2:17 AM Tue 15 Dec 2009 GMT
Sunday 13th December 2009 at 01.13 UTC/ 09.13 local
Steering the Chai Line
After celebrating the 1000 nautical mile mark three nights ago, all the while enjoying steady winds, we have now struck upon the lighter winds of the high pressure area off the coast of Western Australia. Now, keeping on top of sail changes and choosing the best course for speed is key.
Over the last 24 hours, we were able to sail with the Yankee 1 headsail pinned in with four to ten knots of wind on the nose keeping steady speeds but by yesterday morning and throughout the day and night it was a question of lightweight spinnaker up then down, heavyweight kite up, then down, Yankee 1 and Staysail back up then down, then mainsail down and Yankee 1 up only to get the lightweight back up again. We've become masters of fast spinnaker packing that's for sure.
Our onboard tactical team led by 'Tea Bags' Gerry (Vandergrift) and Skywalker (Luke Dampier) is on constant alert for new weather data. As soon as the so-called "GRIB' files and synoptic charts come in once a day (usually at 13:00hrs GMT) they dive down into the Nav station to analyse the files and re-plot the course which they hope to be to our advantage as we try to navigate our way through the high pressure system, estimated to be 800nm north to south and 200-250nm across. We have our fingers crossed that we have found the shortest route. It's certainly making the race exciting if frustrating as boat positions will be made and lost over the coming hours and days. We've clawed our way back after the fateful wind hole early on in the race which saw us drop from first place back to sixth and miss the scoring gate opportunity and we're now in third place but the position remains as fickle as the wind and concentration to keep up boat speeds with a fluttering spinnaker and maintain course is critical.
Gerry's taken on Jan's (skipper) meerkat routine, popping his head up into the cockpit barking up to the helm to keep on course all the while checking the best course for speed and best wind angles. 'Come to Port ten degrees' we hear or 'Hey guys, don't lose concentration!' or something stronger not for publication. The kettle is brewed at regular intervals as Gerry concocts another tea blend - he has convinced the crew they will be rejuvenated by the polyphenol-enriched blend of second flush Assam and February production high altitude Kenya tea. Well, he is the president of a North American speciality tea company! He tells me his Metropolitan Vanilla Chai uses a blend of January growth Malabar spices, second flush Assam, high altitude February Kenya tea and high altitude Nuwara-Eliya Ceylon tea and a blend of Cardamon, cloves, pepper, ginger and cinnamon spices. 'It's got to be made very strong, consumed with twenty per cent milk and sugar for the true Calcutta flavour', he advises. 'We've noticed that this blend is nurturing our forecasting and predicting capabilities and so wish we'd drunk it to spot the wind hole before the scoring gate disaster", he says.
Now Chai or Irish Breakfast are the order of the day. 'It improves the mind and makes you healthy', Gerry says while Jan quietly slips a standard tea bag into his cup. 'We invite all the boats down to our course to play and if they get close enough, we'll throw 'em some Chai!' he quips. ?
'You've just picked up half a knot of boat speed', Gerry just told David on the helm as we adjusted our course by five degrees to follow the 'Chai line'. Gerry's just told me the nearest opposition's positions and we're now gunning for second place after nudging Uniquely Singapore from third place on Saturday afternoon. But there's all to play for as the race viewer will no doubt show but here on Cape Breton Island the crew are confident about how to maintain morale and focus to manoeuvre out of wind holes successfully. There is, understandably however, the hope that this time we will have a healthier share of luck with the wind. That's been sadly lacking so far.
As well as luck with the winds, helming in light winds is the make or break for this race now. Last night, David R was on the helm. 'Look, I'm going faster than the wind', 63 year old farmer David Raeburn and our most senior crew member said with glee. 'I can make water, now I can make wind. All I need to do now is be able to make wine now!' he said cheekily. He had 4.7kn of boat speed and a true wind reading 4.0kn. I said I felt a blog coming on and Katharine suggested: 'David: Is he really God?' as a working title.
Back in the Nav station, Luke and Gerry were debating crew tactics as they pawed over another new weather file and created a simulation akin to the kind of military war gaming simulations I've seen as a former defence journalist. ??The only difference being that 'enemy' positions are being marked up with more endearing symbols. A crew favourite is the yellow rubber duck (some think it's a chicken) for Team Finland. We were looking last night at a day - Sunday 13th December - with zero to five knots of wind if we were lucky. Katharine was already pondering a good clear-out and clean in the ghetto and galley (she would be on mother watch) that day and perhaps getting a little festive on the boat. We're not ashamed to admit there is a box of fairy lights on board but Katharine was pondering paper chains using a used copy of Yachting World. She also decided we would have a review of our food supplies - we need to prepare the crew to loosen their belts to consume as much as possible before we reach Australia as confectionary, cakes, snacks, even honey, condiments, herbs, you name it, are banned on entry.
That explains the baking frenzy of the last few days with scones, toast, rolls, flapjacks, sponge cake, chocolate brownies, rice pudding, prepared by our 'mothers'. The crew's longing for the Australian surfer /beach babe body has been short lived as a result.
Luke appears with a bowl of cup noodles: 'We've a cunning plan!' he announces to us all as we stare out at the vast expanse of ocean watching for gusts as light winds gently fill then drain away from our tennis court-sized spinnaker. We're slowing up as the wind dies. This promised to be a painful 48 hours as we pinned our hopes on the accuracy and reliability of the weather files we were being sent to steer our new Chai line.
Cape Breton Island standing by.
by Carol Reed
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