Navigating my way through to the start line

In one month and three days time I will be setting sail from Hull as the start of this crazy challenge begins. Where the hell has this year gone? It seems like just the other day I was driving through a blizzard to get to the interview, and now here we are, in the final countdown.

I spent the weekend in Cowes, enjoying the tail end of Cowes Week and the start of the Fastnet race. We watched lots of boats out sailing and even more seriously yachty types strut their nautical stripes down the parade. Not to mention the fireworks and the Red Arrows who put on a spectacular display.

And I got really excited - we’re going to have the Red Arrows at our race start too. Seeing all the spectator boats heading out with the yachts as they set sail for the Fastnet race just gave me butterflies in my tummy, knowing that very soon we’ll be sailing out with just as many spectator boats following us, cheering us on and sending us on our way.

But before then, I have a little more work to do. Tomorrow I face the last of my big training weeks. Unfortunately, this one doesn’t involve being on a boat. It’s one solid week of sitting in a classroom learning about navigation and meteorology. In preparation for this ‘intensive and challenging’ week (as it’s been described) I’m supposed to have learnt all the International Collision Regulations. I haven’t. I’ve tried. I keep falling asleep.

In case you aren’t a mariner and aren’t familiar with these, its just under 40 rules (and their related appendices) that are roughly equivalent to the Highway Code (for boats).  It is death by legalese.

It tells you how to not play chicken with a container ship when you’re in a small sailboat. And who has the right of way (not that you’re going to care once you’ve been mown down by a cruise liner). And it has a thoroughly scintillating section on what lights you need to display at sea, including diagrams of black background with tiny dots of colour. You need to guess what the vessel is by the lights on display.

So you can imagine how the time is going to fly…We also have to work out tides and compass bearings.  You know, like those delightful sums you got in school: train A travels at 10mph from the west and train B travel 23mph from the north. At approximately what time will they arrive in Devon? (much like the questions from Dame Slap’s school in the Faraway Tree books).

I just know they’re going to ask me to figure out how to get the boat from point A to point B taking tide and winds and international shipping lanes into account. And I know I’m going to be pants-tastic. Because I don’t do maths. My brain doesn’t work that way.  I am going to be the obligatory dunce in the class.

I know that I have questioned my ability to do many of the things on this race, which I have since realised I am quite capable of doing, as long as I give it a shot. I’m hoping that this will hold true for this week, but I have a sneaking suspicion that this time I’ll have met my ability match. I am almost certainly going to come away with a headache and an F on my exam. But let’s be positive. You never know, I might pass. And I might just manage to help us avoid hitting any ships while at sea. Which would be handy.

And after this week of learning, we still need to sort out the food issue. Thanks to everyone who contributed ideas for our meal planning. I think we’re getting there, although we’re still over budget. I fear an even greater number of beans might be called for to balance the books.  The doldrums will be of no consequence to us given the amount of wind we as a crew will be able to generate ourselves.

Then there’s still some media training to be done as I’ve offered my services as a boat media person. I should be helping out on the boat during prep week but not sure how with kids in tow. Then the mad rush to hold a birthday party for my four year old, organise the house/business, buy all the last minute things I need before heading off to Hull for all the festivities there. 

So much like the rest of the year, this last month is no quieter. I feel I might like a rest when I get home from Brazil.

I’ll report back with a swollen brain in a week’s time.

Tags: cowes, Fastnet, meteorology, navigation, Training

2 comments August 10th, 2009

Feeling fab

I’ve just returned home from my second week of training to find a very quiet, empty house as my husband and the boys are still driving back from my mother in law’s house. So I thought I’d use the few moments of peace to fill you in on how it went.

In short, it was AWESOME!

Last Sunday I set off feeling very tired and slightly nervous but a bit more prepared for what lay ahead of me. I felt far more confident about what to pack, meaning I could get away with a bag half the size of the one I used last time. Which in turn meant I could actually carry it to the boat without pulling a muscle.

Arriving on the pontoon I discovered that I would have the same skipper that I had on part A, which was great as it meant one friendly face. Then, even better, the marvellous Chris - aka Captain Turbo - another member of my group from part A was also on my part B. I immediately felt at home. Unlike last time, I was one of only two girls with many strapping young men to do all the heavy lifting. Another bonus!

Much like last time, we started off with team building exercises which at one point involved my face being inches away from a stranger’s crotch as we all attempted to stand on a very small dot on a sail, so the ice was well and truely broken by bedtime.

This time we stayed on (and sailed) the actual boats we’ll be going on for the race. They’re a lot bigger than the others with slightly more room below deck - like toilets you can actually sit on without your feet sticking out the door (not to mention toilet door zips that actually zip up). I was quick to nab a bed that was in the middle of the boat to ensure maximum stability but given we didn’t do any night sails, it didn’t make too much difference.

Day 1 involved a good long sail out through the Solent to the Needles to refresh everything we’d learnt on Part A training. Standing on deck in torrential icy cold rain that stung my eyes as I attempted to look up at the sail certainly brought back memories and once again I questioned my sanity in doing this.

But once the rain cleared and we got a fab view of the Needles, it all started looking up.

Day 2, the sun was shining and we got to learn all about spinnakers. After a morning of cleaning (a non-stop job on a boat) and theory, we headed out to try out our spinnaker hoisting skills, which were somewhat lacking. Luckily so was the wind so we were able to play around with the huge sails without too much drama. Well except for one of the spinnaker sheets getting stuck in the prop and the skipper having to dive into icy water to sort it out. Here he is emerging a bit chilly from the water:

We also got to pack the spinnaker’s back into their bags. Imagine a sail the size of a tennis court. Now imagine trying to get that amount of sail cloth folded the correct way in a confined space while going over waves. It involves a lot of patience. Here I am with crew member Jen folding one of the spinnaker’s up. It’s hot work, hence the red face:

Day 3 we had a fabulous sail down past Selsy bill. Sitting lined up on the side of the boat with the sun on our faces and a breeze blowing us along while we gazed out to sea was bliss. I also got to hone my skills in the snakepit, the part of the boat where all the halyards and lines come in to and can get themselves into a massive knot unless you’re constantly flaking them out on the deck behind you. It’s a job that requires you to know which rope to pull when while you communicate between the foredeck crew and the helm. It’s normally girls who get to do this job well because it involves communications skills and the ability to multi-task. I loved it!

I was also on Motherwatch duty which involves cooking food for the entire crew and cleaning up. Unlike last time, this time I was able to cook in relatively calm seas although if you look at the pic below, take note of the angle of the cooker in the galley - it swivels to the angle of the boat so that the pots don’t slide off it when the boat is heeled over. Still not exactly an easy cooking experience but at least this time it didn’t end with me vomiting over the back of the boat.

Day 4 was another light wind day but we got to race the other training boat in some seriously competitive races. I really enjoyed the racing and the fact that we were finally starting to work together as a cohesive team without millions of mistakes (not entirely mistake free but we certainly looked a bit more professional). It felt far more like what the real race will be like and for the first time I really started to understand why doing this is going to be such a blast.

That night we moored up in East Cowes and had a fab night out eating and drinking and generally behaving the way sailors normally behave when they’re remotely close to a bar.

Day 5 We set off first thing in virtually non-existant winds and tried to understand tide charts and weather systems before setting off on another race, this time a long one some way out to the East of the Isle of Wight. We won by ten minutes - yay! By now the wind had picked up a lot, with gusts up to 35 / 40 knots. And I got to helm. Gulp.

I know how to steer a boat. But steering a 68 foot, 35 tonne boat in big seas and strong wind isn’t easy. By the time we got to the first mark my shoulders were rock hard, my arms and legs aching. And then we got to do the downwind leg. For anyone not familiar with sailing, this means you have the wind behind you and the potential to gybe at a moment’s notice (which is when the boom swings across the boat taking out everyone in its path - not a good thing really).

So we’re heading downwind fast, surfing big waves, the wind threatening to gybe the mainsail. Coming directly towards us was a rather large container ship. Coming at us in the opposite direction was a fast ferry to the channel islands, with the boat we were racing coming at us on the opposite tack (and they had right of way). Let’s just say that I needed a stiff drink by the time we got ourselves out of that sticky spot. That night I slept very, very well.

Day 6 Was our last day of sailing, but the winds were very light once again. After a final bit of racing, we got back, derigged and had to write an exam.

Then it was off for our big crew supper that involved plenty of chinese food, lots of wine and lots of talking seventeen types of shite.

And talking shite was a major feature of the week. Not a single meal went by without a discussion about poo. Get 8 men together and talk tends to gravitate to poo and willies. Remarkable. I thought it was simply a phase my 3 and 5 year old boys were going through but apparently it’s a lifelong affliction.

But I can honestly say that I haven’t laughed as much in years. It was a great taste of the comaraderie that develops on board. You meet brilliant characters like:

and

These two are known as foredeck monkeys, mastmen or grinding gorrillas i.e. they’re the hired muscle. But every job was done with a chuckle and a joke about poo, willies or testicles.

Living on a boat with a bunch of strangers has all the makings of a potential disaster - but you live in this amazing bubble where the rest of the world ceases to exist. You become an entirely different person to the person you are in your day to day life. I’m known as Mel on board. I’ve never been Mel. But somehow I am Mel when I’m on the boat.

You revert to the person you were before children, husbands, mortgages, school runs, work or being a grown up. It’s like being 20 all over again. It’s completely liberating. You focus on the task at hand - sailing a boat - and you forget about everything else.

So while I am back, tired and covered in bruises and have aching muscles, I look and feel healthy, happy and relaxed.

I dread the huge amount I have to do in the next two months but the old adage of a change being as good as a holiday really does hold true.

Now I just wish I was doing more legs of the race - but there’s always 11/12 race for that….

Tags: cowes, isle of wight, sailing, spinnakers, Training

5 comments May 3rd, 2009