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Trip Report for TAEPING from Funchal, Madeira , 31/10/98 to San Salvador , The Bahamas , 23/11/98

31/10  Adrenaline is returning to our bloodstream, replacing the alcohol that has washed our bodies the last three days in Funchal.  Leave berth at 9:30 in a stiff east force 6, jockeying for a first place across the start at 10:30 .  Break the start line first inches ahead of Mermerus with Thermopylae just behind.  Head due south to clear the backwash from Madeira .  Have some difficulty getting all-purpose spinnaker (“AP”) properly trimmed and see several boats pass us.  Around 16:00 we are catching up on Chrysolite, who is steering an obstructing course to hold us back.  Just about to overtake her doing ten knots when spinnaker uphaul shackle opens sending spinnaker pole into the ocean, scary moment with severe strain on rigging.  Pole is retrieved after 15 minutes of frantic effort, Chrysolite gleefully putting distance between us.  Fortunately no permanent damage, Nick recovers uphaul from top of the mast, we reset AP and start making up lost ground.  These early hours also see Serica breaking her spinnaker pole and Ariel broaching, dipping her mast in the drink with pandemonium down below decks.

                        Our tactic is to head S-SW to pick up trades as early as possible.  Antiope, Thermopylae and Mermerus head more West, which is a more direct course to San Salvador .  Heard in Madeira that Hurricane Mitch had done extensive damage in the Caribbean , another effect it has had is to disrupt the prevailing NE trade winds across the Atlantic , which have become weak and disorganized.  Forecast is for rebuilding trades in the next few days, let’s hope!  The shortest distance, along the rhomb line, between Funchal and San Salvador is 3,093 nautical miles; however, this takes us right across the Azores high which is notorious for lack of wind.  I reckon we will sail closer to 3,500 miles in our pursuit of favorable trade winds further south.

 1/11                Keep southerly heading, Ariel and us play cat and mouse all day looking for optimal winds.  They seem to have a faster boat.  Winds SE force 5 before lunch dropping to S force 3 later, not easy to make southerly progress to the promised land of trades.  During the night fine dust from Sahara can be seen by torchlight.

 *                     Log distance is measured by the boat’s log meter and is situated below the waterline in the bow.  It is not completely accurate as it fails to account for any currents and its calibration may be off.  DDTG 24 hours is the difference in DTG between our position at 17:00 GMT on the previous day and our position at 17:00 GMT .  It is measured by GPS and is accurate to within a few feet.

 2/11               Gareth makes fresh bread to great acclaim – a breadmaker is born.  Ariel appears again heading West, again with greater boat speed, how do they do it?  Winds stay fluky all day, consider sacrifices to Neptune, even human ones.  Small holes discovered in mainsail near boom, repaired with tape glued on with hot kettle.  Problems receiving weather faxes and weather prognosis from HQ is not worth the paper it is written on.  Better off ignoring report and going on intuition.  Nick makes a rare appearance as chef for dinner.  Much effort goes into the cheese sauce, which does great until 5 minutes before serving.  The dreaded lumps appear and furious beating by Nick aggravates the situation.  Everything is forgiven, as it tastes great. 

 3/11               Making painfully slow southerly progress at the expense of race position in an attempt to hit the trades early.  Ariel who was SE of us has gone further West and made lots of ground on the whole field.  Winds are still not kind to us.  Set AP for the first time on this leg at 12:20 .  ETA San Salvador is slipping to at least 21/11.

 4/11               Ariel and Thermopylae are at it again, pulling away.  There is a sense of inevitability about it, we don’t luck out with the wind.  Visit by dolphins cheers us up.  Hoisted aloft by its neck, our mascot, the Wimbledon Womble, receives cruel treatment.  Sanity is easily lost on a day like this.

 5/11               The wind died today.  Lots of bright ideas for getting Taeping moving, including farting astern, swimming ahead or paddling behind.  By noon we had moved 3.5 miles!  Our spirits were high though, celebrating Gareth’s 19^th birthday with extravagant gifts and cake, courtesy of Charlotte and Patrice, delicious.  As the boat wasn’t moving we did instead.  Diving into the Cape Verde Abyssal Plain, a crystal clear 5,500-metre column of water.  Like threading glass, anybody down there?  Cliff managed to dive in with his glasses on; they are now at 5,500 metres providing optical services to the creatures of the deep.  Swung off the mast using the spinnaker halyard, trying to swing from bow to stern failed painfully!  And this is ocean racing?  More like monkeys at sea, hanging from the halyards.  The day we lost the race.  ETA San Salvador is set back to at least 23/11, maybe at this rate we will celebrate Xmas there.

 6/11               Day after catastrophe winds pick up, but from the SW – our chosen course.  Like pulling teeth.  Arrive in the tropics (Tropic of Cancer, 23° 30’) at noon .  Ariel and Thermopylae make a dash south, wise move.  Back on mother watch with Gareth.  Cleaned floorboards in galley and several lockers.  Some had not had a clean since Plymouth .  Wiped out several organic colonies in the process.  Important to keep things clean, morale deteriorates quickly on a dirty boat.  During the night meteorites are frequent sights.  Cliff, our Ernest Hemingway lookalike, with a three-string guitar and an out of tune voice, has great knowledge of the sky.  Amateur astronomer but also a great help with anything electrical.  Flying fish are very common; one commits hara-kiri flying straight into our galley.

Many boats record negative DDTG 24 hours as San Salvador is at 23° 56’ N 74° 36’ W, with boats heading south of this latitude in the hope of catching strong trade winds.

7/11                Another day, praying for wind.  Trades are not established, keep blaming hurricane Mitch for the poor state of affairs.  Cliff and Steve are on mother watch, serve up a mean, hot dish of unknown ethnic origin.  Sphincter muscles are severely tested after dinner.  Nick has given up control of his and leads the way in high- and low-pitched discharges.  Morale boosted, morals lowered.  In this jolly mood the night hours pass.

8/11                Dawn in the tropics, but trades is weak.  Ariel and Thermopylae are doing it again!  Lady luck must be shining on them.  Sight Mermerus at 11:00 , making a dash south for more wind must have given up on Ariel and Thermopylae .  This gives Taeping the chance to move one up in the ranking.  Our goal is to finish among the top three.  We know the boat has speed, except on closehaul.  Mermerus will have a fight on her hands.  At 17:00 Mermerus is out of view SE of us.

9/11                Tuning into BBC World Service on short-wave, Hurricane Mitch still top news item.  She passed this area three weeks earlier, but no sign of tropical wave activity, hope she is the last one of the season.  Time for change, clocks reset to GMT – 2 hours as we have passed 30° W.  Mermerus complains on air about the state of wind, probably because she can’t catch us.  Squalls at night are becoming common, never know what they bring rain and no wind, no rain and lots of wind, or lots of both.

 10/11             Mermerus fancies our company, still behind us, disappears S around 15:00 .  Stiflingly hot day, make reasonable run, but top competitors make more.  Back on mother watch, scrubbing the favourite heads and floorboards.  No bread today, “bread curfew”, only get it every other day to ensure it lasts to San Salvador .  Have to get inventive with beef and potatoes in various forms, fried, boiled, and baked.  Spinnaker halyard is raised 3 inches to prevent chafing.

 11/11             Not a good day!  Wind picks up around midnight as squall line approaches; suddenly gusts were in excess of 25 knots.  Nick shouts “All on deck”.  Without contact lenses, no night vision and the AP flapping violently, the foredeck was a hairy experience.  As the AP was lowered it caught the ocean and immediately filled.  What followed was predictable; a seam parted from head to foot and another seam along the foot gave way.  Add to that a few horizontal rips and we had an AP beyond repair while at sea.  It took a while to appreciate the enormity of this calamity.  No longer able to set the AP we would have to rely on the lightweight spinnaker (“LWS”) and the asymmetric spinnaker.  It would take its toll on us.

                        The old Yankee 1 is poled out, it had already served Taeping around the world and was worse for wear.  Within six hours it starts to rip along the foot.  Down she comes, up goes the Yankee 2.  Down goes the Yankee 2, up goes the LWS.  Mermerus is sighted again, but as long as she is in our wake we are confident we can beat her.  She gets within 4 miles before Taeping pulls away again.  With last night experience fresh in mind, at sunset the LWS is lowered and the repaired Yankee 1 is poled out.

 12/11             Old Yankee 1 is ripping again.  LWS goes up after sunrise.  Mermerus heads south having failed to overtake us on our course.   She has more wind down south but it is a more circuitous route.  Ariel and Thermopylae keep adding the odd mile on us every day.

13/11              Cross the Mid-Atlantic Ridge (45° W).  Mermerus comes back into view around 15:30 .  At the closest she was 2.9 miles behind us her spinnaker logo clearly visible.  Another marathon battle ensues.  She knew our AP was gone and wanted to hit us when we were vulnerable.  Apparent wind above 10-12 knots requires us to drop the LWS, whilst the AP can handle 15-16 knots.  By midnight we increased the distance to Mermerus to 4.7 miles.  Taeping’s crewmembers are night owls; we do our best under cover of darkness. 

 14/11              By 06:00 Mermerus is 6 miles astern.  Barney must be pulling hair, teeth and castrating crew.  Served baked potatoes with condiments to wild acclaim.  How many ways to eat a potato?  Still counting.  Our luck keeps running out.  Just before sunset Patrice discovers holes in the LWS.  Had just gibed, a good move that put another 2 miles between Mermerus and us, before she gibed too.  But with LWS down for repair that advantage soon disappeared.  With metres of repair tape the LWS was patched and rehoisted, race on again.

 15/11             Spinnakers are like thoroughbreds, treat them like porcelain.  During the morning the LWS exhibits another rip.  Drill is repeated, down goes LWS, on goes repair tape, up goes LWS.  Listening in on Barney’s conversation with another boat.  He was lamenting his inability to pass Taeping even considering the problems we were having with our spinnakers.  However, we are creeping north, will the trades follow us there?  The winds turn more southerly pushing us further north.  I ask Nick if we should tack to keep a more southerly course, but he keeps his own advice.

                        At sunset Gareth spots a funnel cloud 4 miles to starboard.  Cloud quickly develops into a waterspout 3 miles to starboard.  Water is seen disappearing up into the clouds.  LWS is lowered as a precaution.  The squall never reaches us, but with Nick uncertain about the evening’s weather he decides to keep LWS down.  The combination of going too far north and not rehoisting LWS costs us dearly.  Mermerus had taken a more southerly course enjoying fairer winds and with no need to lower her AP steams ahead.  A day I would rather forget, the mood is strained to say the least.

 16/11             LWS finally hoisted 00:30.  Winds die during morning.  At the 05:00 GMT radio call it was clear Mermerus had made a brilliant tactical move south and was getting the winds we were not.  We shall make the best of what we got, but mood is definitely subdued.  After having beaten her one-on-one over seven days it was galling to see a bad call blow it so quickly.  At the 17:00 roll call we are 34 miles behind her – a catastrophe.

                        On the bright side the LWS is holding up well and the night sky gives a spectacular show as hundreds of shooting stars rain down on us.

 17/11             Finally boat is picking up speed again.  Curse all poor tactical decisions, we live and learn.  The early morning sky has seen a display of meteorites like I’ve never seen, a couple every minute on average, bright, fiery streaks, some coloured, some breaking up as they burn up in the stratosphere, leaving vapour trails.

                        Mermerus has outpaced us more than 50 miles in two days, but the hemorrhaging has ended.  Need to watch Chrysolite which has gained 76 miles in the last four days, she will pass us in three days if we don’t get our shit together.

                        Keep a westerly course.  Due to squall activity Nick decides to lower LWS, raise the old Yankee 1 and bear slightly further north.  Dislike this lowering of LWS intensely, Nick is very concerned about ripping a second spinnaker and facing Sir Robin’s wrath in San Salvador.  I say screw that – we got a race to win, keep the fucking kite flying – enough said!

18/11              Chrysolite is on a rip, my prediction of yesterday is getting a certain air of inevitability.  But let her get close and taste Taeping’s revenge.  Finally put up LWS at 07:00, 11 hours without it keeps costing us dearly, where are Nick’s balls?  Buried up his ass rather than hanging in his scrotum?

                        Back on mother watch, our stores are getting depleted.  Most of the favourite dishes are long gone.  Remaining are pilchards, sardines, corned beef and whatever leftovers the galley can provide.  Happy hour is “touchy feely”, with crew trying to identify fellow crew blindfolded by touching body parts – great fun.  Know thy fellow man (or woman!)

                        Squalls return in the evening.  The radar is closely monitored as an early warning device.  Nick is starting to take a more measured approach to lowering the LWS.  His balls seem to be returning to where they belong.

 19/11             Day starts ominously – “All on deck” for squall duty.  Squall passes, LWS still flying.  Around 06:00 another squall rolls over us, LWS goes down, old Yankee 1 goes up, equals loss of boat speed.  Rush the LWS down below for repacking ready to be set again at the earliest opportunity.  Two hours later LWS is back up, probably only lost two miles on the competition.

I’m on the helm from 11:00 to 12:00 with true wind gusting to 23 knots and apparent wind reaching 14 knots, exceeding the LWS design limit.  But knowing that Serica flew her LWS into Funchal with apparent wind exceeding 18 knots, I feel confident that the LWS can take this level of strain for a short time.  Most spinnaker rips are caused by one of three things:

1.                    Luff develops and spinnaker loses shape, rapping itself around the forestay, when it regains its shape the sail is put under severe dynamic stress with seams or other points of weakness giving way;

2.                    Broach fills spinnaker with water, sayonara spinnaker; and,

3.                    Inept handling during lowering of spinnaker, when it can catch on a number of protrusions and a dreaded ripping sound is heard.

Squalls keep pursuing our path and at 15:30 LWS goes down again.  LWS back up around 21:00, probably lost six miles to the competition.  I beg – keep the fucking kite flying, anybody listening?

20/11              Dawn sees Chrysolite on the radar at 9 miles astern, battle is joined.  The prospect of being beaten by a bunch of wossies is not appealing.  We go into battle mode – like Serica and Mermerus before her she will be conquered in a one-on-one battle.  Our trimming and helmsmanship will see to that.  Let us hope that our tactician can read the “tea leaves” and tell tales better so we don’t keep winning the battles and losing the war.  Have a minor flare up with fellow crew re trimming, in the heat of battle tempers are short.

                        Today is a landmark, LWS is not lowered!  At 17:00 Chrysolite is at her closest 5.6 miles astern doing a slightly more northerly course.  At 18:00 distance increased to 6.3 miles.  Ocean racing is won by small margins, 0.1 knots more boat speed adds up day after day.  By 24:00 she is 7.4 miles away on our starboard stern quarter.  Morning will tell if Chrysolite has met her match.

 21/11             Nick’s birthday.  The hemorrhaging has stopped; Chrysolite has been kept at bay.  She has also sailed slightly north, which should not be advantageous for her on the final stretch to San Salvador.  ETA is now in the evening of 23/11; can smell fresh food and see the dew forming on a cold beer bottle.  Life on shore seems a distant memory.

                        Have a birthday bash for Nick, extravagant gifts are exchanged, guitars playing, warm beer, peanuts, cake and all.  Songs composed to this and that, get saucier and saucier as the beer takes effect on untrained bodies.  Haven’t had alcohol in a long while.  Mood is improving, but directly correlated to our position vs. Chrysolite and Mermerus.

22/11              Battle with Chrysolite continues, but with us in the driver’s seat.  That is until another catastrophe occurs.  At 09:15 am the LWS explodes.  Cliff is at the helm, with Tim trimming and John grinding.  I’m in the galley preparing hot drinks.  The wind has increased slightly and one luff develops into a wrap around the forestay.  The LWS does not appreciate the strain.  “Oh shit” is heard from the cockpit followed by the excruciating sound of fabric ripping.  With 240 miles to go Chrysolite has been given another lease on life.  With both our AP and LWS out of commission our twenty-mile buffer to Chrysolite will come in handy.  Within 45 minutes the asymmetric spinnaker is up.  The staysail follows an hour later.  By evening wind has freshened to ENE force 5 and the waves are growing by the hour.  This is no weather for a LWS anyway; maybe lady luck is shining on us.

                        Taeping is racing along at 8.5 knots.  As the night progresses and the waves build she gets harder to control.  The asymmetric is designed for up to 18 knots of apparent wind, we are well within those limits; true wind hovers around 20-25 knots.  Battling the helm is not for the weak or faint-hearted, several times every hour the boom touches water and the boat is balancing on the edge of broaching.  Top boat speed is recorded at 13.8 knots as we surf down the waves.

                        The helmsman is the first one to sense that the boat is out of control.  If the rudder stops responding to helming, because of cavitation, it is only a matter of seconds before the boom hits the water and we are pitched 90 degrees.  The crew in the cockpit will be the next ones to know something is amiss.  The crew down below doesn’t see or feel to the same extent what is going on, they can only pray.  It feels like walking a tight rope and constantly being on the verge of losing your balance – a great adrenaline rush.

                        Under these arduous conditions Patrice, Charlotte and John (Bunge) work ten hours nonstop repairing the LWS with a hand-driven Singer sewing machine erected on a floorboard.  Stitches go in at the rate of one every 2 seconds; we need about 1000 of them.  The other crew battles with Neptune and keeps Chrysolite where she belongs – astern.

 23/11             A night not to forget, riding Taeping for what she is worth.  Our boom dipping has ripped off the protective padding at the end of the boom.  The first two hours see average boat speed of 10.0 knots!  Maximum hull speed is about 10.5 knots.  Chrysolite is a distant memory 23 miles behind us.

                        After 23 days at sea land is sighted around 11:00.  Turquoise water beckons us to jump in.  At 12:53:10 local time (17:53:10 GMT) Taeping crosses the finish line at 24° 00’ N and 74° 34” W.  Sir Robin arrives with a cold case of beer to wild acclaim.  We rush to enter port before the tide makes the draft too shallow.  Chrysolite, arriving three hours later, has to wait until 22:00 to gain a berth alongside.

                        Let the party begin.

 © Haakon Johan Bjorum, the Global Sailor

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