02/04/2005: "Global Challenge update from Don"

Here's the LAtest from sailing buddy Don. This yacht race is AWESOME. I promise an originally authored entry on Superbowl Sunday. Go philly... I like their cheese steaks.

From Don...

Dear family and Friends,

This project started one evening in March a few years ago when I was sitting on my couch reading the latest issue of Latitude 38, a free local San Francisco sailing monthly, and came across an ad for the Challenge Business. It had a low-quality black and white photo of someone at the helm of a yacht, wrapped in heavy foul weather gear and supposedly rounding Cape Horn (Cabo de Hornos) against strong winds and 18 foot waves. The ad was an invitation to sign up for one of their round the world races. Therefve been times since then, including one or two in the last couple of months, that I wished I had just turned the page and gone on to the next article. I didnft turn the pageB I tore it out and took it to work the next day and called them asking for an interview.

Now itfs a late afternoon in December, 2004, and Ifm at the helm of our yacht under a wild wintry sky with mixed sun, rain, driving sleet and strong head winds and wefre crashing into steep closely-spaced 16 foot waves with ice-cold spray flying everywhere. The huge majestic twin-domed island rock is coming into view and itfs much bigger than I had imagined. Wefre finally here bashing our way around Cape Horn and across the infamous graveyard of the clipper ships. Wefre having a blast!

According to maritime tradition a sailor earns the right to wear a gold earring after rounding Cape Horn, the southernmost point in South America. The earring is worn in the ear that faced the Horn as it passed. So our starboard rounding earned us the right to wear earrings in our right ears and indicates that we rounded against the prevailing wind and waves. Only one of our crew was actually prepared to put in an earring but our medic refused to poke the hole.

Racing

Leg 2 was a great race! We started in Buenos Aires under warm sunny skies and light winds. Because of botched communications between our bowman and skipper James who was at the helm, we were over the starting line early. It was a minor infraction and we were required to take a 720 penalty (make two circles) which didn't cost us much. Six weeks and over 6000 miles later, we approached Wellington in sight of three of the other boats.

The Atlantic part of the leg was mostly downwind with lot's of spinnaker work. Most of the boats stayed close together and there were a lot of place changes. This was a nice change from leg 1 which turned into a merry-go-round with most of the boats maintaining a constant position in the fleet for weeks at a time.

There was a lot of anxiety about the conditions in the Southern Ocean as we approached Cape Horn. As we sailed south from Buenos Aires, the temperature dropped steadily and the skies turned grey and wintry. We added layers to our clothing as the days grew longer. Tempers got shorter. We approached the northern edges of the storms that were passing Cape Horn and even though the winds were moderate after passing over the steep Patagonian mountains, it was clear that tougher times were near.

The wind died in the De Maire Strait allowing most of the boats at the back of the fleet to catch up. The De Maire Strait is the passage between Cape San Diego, the horny-looking tip of the Argentinean mainland that points to the east (sometimes mistaken for Cape Horn), and Ile de los Estados Island. This race gre-starth would happen again at waypoint Alpha in the middle of the Southern Ocean and to a lesser extent towards the finish near New Zealand. Waypoint Alpha is an imaginary point at 52 deg south latitude that we were required to stay north of in order to keep away from icebergs. Otherwise, the shortest course from Cape Horn to Wellington would have taken us above 70 deg south.

Headwinds picked up as a low pressure system moved in from the west as we sailed past Tierra Del Fuego (land of fire) at the southern end of the South American mainland. We don't often see land during the race but we sailed close to shore through the De Maire Strait and along the coast towards the Island of Cape Horn. Tierra Del Fuego gets its name from the smoky-looking fog that is common there and the scenery was fantastic with tall steep rounded mountains and misty valleys in between. It looked like an eerie fantasy land.

After rounding the Horn, we expected severe weather systems to pass every three of four days and to move quickly from west to east, against our progress. The systems we encountered were fewer in number and larger, weaker, and slower moving than normal.

Shortly after passing waypoint Alpha, I came on deck one morning to join my watch after handling some navigation and weather tasks below. I was shocked to see Save the Kids a hundred meters off our stern. James was on deck and he told me to look around. There were four other boats in sight and within a few miles of us after 3000 miles. Great racing! This is what keeps us going in a long race.

On approach to Wellington, which lies inside Cook Strait between New Zealandfs north and south islands, most of the boats were divided into two packs. The leaders, including Sark, BP, and BG were to the north of the other pack which included Me to You, Samsung, and Sony. We were primarily dueling with Sony for 5th place. Samsung was nearby but they had turned back earlier in the race to assist Unisys with a medical emergency and so they were eligible for redress from the race committee which would put them well ahead of us. As predicted, there were strong headwinds funneling through Cook Strait and progress was slow and rough against steep seas.

Entering Cook Strait, we had a six mile lead on Sony and should have easily beaten them to the finish line. But we made a huge tactical error and stayed south of the rhumbline (shortest course) to take advantage of stronger winds. Through the night, we failed to cover them as they sailed a shorter course and by dawn the crews of both boats were shocked to see that our positions had switched. They were well ahead of us and we had no chance to catch them in the last few miles. While the decision to stay south wasn't mine, as one of the navigators, I should have realized the mistake and recommended a shorter course. Se la vie.

We ended up in seventh place after Save the Kids received a reduced sailing time and additional points to make up for assisting Unisys. By my calculation, we're eighth overall for the first two legs and since the scores are very close, therefs plenty of opportunity to improve on that as the race goes on. Spirit of Sark, BP, and BG are emerging as the toughest yachts to beat.

Sailing in the Southern Ocean

Helming in the Southern Ocean in heavy weather can be exhilarating. One day the waves were steep and up to 35 feet high with strong winds but with good visibility and sunshine. At the crest of the big waves, I would feel a moment of vertigo as I looked down into a deep canyon. It felt as if the boat were going to drop off the cliff. We would accelerate sharply into the trough and the sea and horizon would disappear behind steep glistening grey walls of water. We would shoot up the far side of the canyon and the sea and horizon would re-appear. These excursions would usually throw us off course I so would immediately counter-steer and then prepare for the next wave. This was a fantastic wild ride! But similar conditions in the dark can be a nightmare. Ifve been thrown from the helm to the leeward sole (floor) of the cockpit a half dozen or so times by unseen or unexpected waves and so I clip on (my safety tether) when Ifm steering in nearly all conditions.

After the adrenaline rush of the Horn, we adjusted to life below decks in rough weather which can be more dangerous than on deck. The heeling of the boat is manageable but when the bow falls off of wave tops it feels like itfs hitting concrete. It then jerks violently and unpredictably to one side or the other. Moving from one placed to another is a combination of walking, climbing and crawling. Therefs a pretty good selection of handholds for getting around and wefve become creative about using doorways and safety straps for maintaining balance and holding on. Before getting any hand or foothold, I always consider that the boat may lurch in any direction and make sure that my wrist or ankle isnft in a position to be wrenched or broken by the sudden movement.

On deck in the Southern Ocean we wear drysuits. Theyfre made of Gore-Tex and the design is a cross between a dive suit and a straightjacket. It requires assistance to get into and out of because the waterproof zipper starts behind the left shoulder. It crosses your chest on an angle, ending at your waist on the right side. They have integrated booties that go into our sea boots and have watertight rubber seals at the neck and wrists. They work really well at keeping out water and wind and so are worth the struggle. We also wear insulated rubber diving gloves with waterproof seals at the wrists. We can perform most tasks while wearing them but the second one is a real struggle to get on. The inside of the gloves eventually became slimy and smelly and so some folks cut out the linings. My hands got really cold while helming so I put up with the additional inconvenience.

Under the dry suit, we wear an insulated mid-layer salopette (must be French for overalls) and jacket. Under that we wear thermal long-johns and underwear. This system works great as long as you keep it dry. Nothing works when wet so keeping dry is a critical but impossible goal. During storms, the damp air permeates everything. Moisture finds its way into your clothes, bunks and sleeping bags. Also, while the drysuits keep you dry on deck, they get you wet when you carry them from the wet locker where theyfre stored to your chosen station for suiting up. During watch changes, each crewmember finds a place where he or she can lean against a wall or wedge between walls and doorways to keep from getting thrown around during the critical moments when your arms or legs are tied up as you change into or out of the dry suit.

Injuries

The greatest danger at sea is an injury in a remote area where help isnft available. There were several serious problems during this leg. A member of Stelmarfs crew became ill near Cape Horn and they had to stop into a port in Southern Argentina. Later their bowman broke his upper arm when an unexpectedly big wave wrenched him around the forestay near the bow. They were a about 1000 miles from land and had to return once again to South America to drop him off to be transported to Buenos Aires for surgery. A member of Unisysf crew punctured an intestine wall during a fall below decks and eventually had to be airlifted from the boat when it got within range of New Zealandfs airborne medical services. In the week or so before the rescue, two boats, Save the Children and Samsung, had to rendezvous with their boat to provide medical supplies.

Unisys retired from this leg of the race and Stelmar returned to the location where they turned around and continued racing. They were two weeks late arriving in Wellington but received a herofs welcome from the towns people and the Challenge sailors that were still around.

One of our crewmembers was thrown against a metal bar in one of the forward storage cabins and bruised a kidney. He briefly lost consciousness but recovered within a few hours. He was okay after a couple of days of rest but the first few hours of the incident really scared us.

Wildlife

The albatross rules the Southern Ocean. Ifll never forget the silhouette of this soaring glider against a wintry grey sky. The albatross looks like a huge white seagull with very long slender brownish wings, a broad blunt head, and a long beak that curves up at the end and then hooks down. They swoop and dive and climb and soar and hardly ever flap their wings. Theyfre very curious and sometimes followed our boat for hours or days.

A huge Wandering Albatross visited us one rare sunny morning. I didnft see it approach; it just appeared about 30 feet from me from behind the sails at the front of the boat. It had a 12-foot wingspan and looked like a magnificent prehistoric creature. It circled the boat at close range for about 15 minutes surveying the strange creatures on deck wrapped in bright yellow Gore-Tex and staring back from under day-glo green hoods. Then, with two slow motion flaps of its gigantic wings, it glided away on the wind. It was stunning!

Wildlife in the Southern Ocean also included other birds, seals, dolphins, and whales. The birds were interesting because they were all long-distance cruisers. Most were gliders but there were some smaller varieties, including Storm Petrels, that rely on constantly flapping wings. One of the most interesting to me was a small fat brown and white patterned Cape Petrel that looked like a flying penguin. Like the Albatross, they were very curious and followed the boat for long periods. They would swoop closer and closer to the boat as they got up their nerve and finally, they would play chicken with our sails, flying straight at them and then swerving away just before hitting them. The Southern Ocean birds donft get a lot of visitors and we must have been something interesting and different for them.

We saw seals on the rocks in the Strait of Le Maire and then again in the waters near New Zealand. In the calm waters of Le Maire, we also saw albatrosses roosting on the water. They stop when the sea is calm for meals of squid and fish but they usually feed at night so this was a rare sight.

We occasionally saw large whales either in singles or pods. Sometimes the whales are curious and approach the boat and at other times, they just seem to be going our way and donft pay much attention. The most impressive sighting was of a pod of 50-plus foot Sei whales. They were dark grey with white patches on the sides of their heads. They followed along side us for a while but apparently we were too slow for them so they eventually carried on without us. When whales are sighted, the on-watch notifies the off-watch and everyone scrambles to the deck wearing whatever they happen to be wearing. Therefs an unspoken rule that life jackets and technical clothing arenft required on deck when whales are present! Sail trimming and racing are also briefly suspended.

Near New Zealand we saw Dusky Dolphins. Theyfre relatively small, green, black, and white, and are the most acrobatic dolphins Ifve ever seen. They swim in pods of 50 or more and leap high out of the water doing forward and backward summersaults, or dance vertically along the surface slapping their tales. Pure entertainment!

On Boxing Day morning (the day after Christmas), our decks were littered with zooplankton that washed onto the deck with the waves. These are half-inch long crustaceans that are similar to tiny shrimp. They can only swim vertically and come to the surface to feed on algae which grows in the sunlight. These little creatures, along with the slightly larger krill are key links in the Southern Ocean food chain.

Christmas and New Years

Our social committee did a great job of creating Christmas on the boat. We drew names in Buenos Aires and brought along secret Santa gifts and we also allowed ourselves one small gift per person from family or friends (I bought myself a gift of some chocolates to share). The boat was impressively decorated with a Christmas tree with lots of ornaments and colored ribbons. Tinsel and more ribbons were everywhere, and we even had a nativity scene for which we had absolutely no room. We also had a variety of modern and traditional Christmas music.

Christmas dinner was excellent (relatively speaking). The main course of turkey and cranberries was freeze-dried as were the mashed potatoes but we had real stuffing, good chocolates and a bottle of wine for each watch. We had a great meal that wasnft prepared in a single pot. After dinner we exchanged gifts with our own watch and then went up on deck to take over for the others. We all enjoyed the traditional Christmas atmosphere and a nice break from our routine.

The fleet conducts a daily VHF radio chat show hosted each day by a different boat. The Christmas day host asked each boat to prepare and perform a skit or song for Christmas. Most crews created and performed irreverent radio skits about the nativity, the virgin Mary's immaculate conception, or other parts of the Christmas story, interspersed with obscene versions of popular Christmas songs. We owned the VHF airwaves in the Southern Ocean and could get away with things on the radio that we wouldnft attempt back in civilization..

New Years was a little more subtle. I thought it was going to pass without any formal recognition but just before midnight James came up on deck with a bottle of horrible Argentinean Champaign, some excellent chocolates, and some party poppers. We all toasted with half a plastic coffee cup of Champaign, ate a piece of chocolate, popped our party poppers, shook hands, and then proceeded with the next sail change.

The actual time we celebrated New Years was somewhat arbitrary. All of our navigation and communications are on Greenwich mean time (GMT) but our watch system (when we work and sleep) is on a local time of our own choosing. So when we notice that itfs 11 pm and the sun is still high in the sky, we move our clocks back an hour or two. The local time was changing relatively quickly since we were traveling from east to west at a high latitude and our only real restraint was that we wanted to be on or near New Zealand time when we reached Wellington.

Wellington

We arrived in Wellington to a rousing welcome from the other yachts, family and friends, and many locals. Wellington is a sailing town and the people are very friendly and interested in our race. It's great to be here and Ifll surely come back. The boats are parked at a downtown wharf and mobs of people walk by to see them and visit with the crews.

One of my jobs ashore was to lead a team to inspect the sails and prepare them for the sail makers. We were working in a large wharfside warehouse with only a single small door open to the quay for access but hundreds of people found their way in during the first three days to see what we were doing, ask questions, and just to chat. It was great to not be able to work because people were so friendly and interested. The Challenge Business eventually set up a public walkway through the warehouse to control the flow of people. This was a great contrast to Buenos Aires where I often asked people if they had ever heard of the Global Challenge. The usual answer was no. It was difficult to find a taxi driver that even knew the location of the yacht club where the boats were.

After our arrival in Wellington and celebrations and many beers and some real food, we found our way to the hotel. I took a very long hot shower. Because we had problems with the watermaker onboard, this was my first shower in over a month. I scrubbed off layers of filth and dead skin; my feet were particularly disgusting. I had lost about ten pounds and all of my finger tips were white and numb from minor frostbite. Since then the color has returned and the feeling is nearly back to normal. I donft think therefs any long-term damage but Ifve been searching the outdoor shops in Wellington for better hand-wear for helming during the next Southern Ocean leg.

Miscellany

We lost one crewmember in Buenos Aires. Emma, one of our cockpit crew, decided to leave because of conflicts with our skipper and some of the crew. She was a legger (a person not doing the entire race) who was scheduled to race with us until we reached Sydney. She was a Global Challenge employee and knew the boat and maintenance procedures very well. She was also an aggressive and motivated sailor and I think wefre worse off without her.

Milestones for me this leg included rounding Cape Horn (at the helm), an even longer ocean crossing, crossing the International Date Line at sea (at the helm), my furthest foray south (above 60 deg south latitude), first time in New Zealand, and not changing my underwear and socks for a month.

The next leg will be a short 1300 mile sprint to Sydney which will take just seven or eight days but the racing will be very intense since it counts as much as any other leg. Ifm looking forward to getting back on the water.

Don

p.s. In my leg 1 letter I mentioned the adventurous ride up the Rio Platte to Buenos Aires. We had a good laugh after several of our team members met some American sailors who had steamed up the same river at about the same time. They were forbidden on deck on their 445 foot, four thousand ton US Navy Frigate because of the rough conditions!

www.globalchalleng2004.com (race web site)
www.metoyou.co.uk (sponsorfs web site, including race coverage)