Sunday, 30 May 2010
Here is the extract from my ebook 'Voyage of the Little Ship Tere Moana':
'The watch system has been changed to two hours on and four off, and they will run it through the night.
As the wind is coming over her port bow, they have backed the staysail, and our little ship is now riding in the ‘hove to’ position. All being well, she will ride out the night like this, without losing too much ground, and a decision will be made in the morning whether to go back into sailing mode.
Another wind reading shows it has risen to almost fifty knots and howling around them. The storm surge has arrived and the waves are five metres plus, with some even higher. The motion is still reasonably comfortable because the fetch in between the waves is so long that our little ship has time to rise up the face of the oncoming wave, over the top, and down its back into the trough, just in time to prepare to do it all over again with the next wave.
If the seas stay like this, they will have no trouble. The danger though, is two fold. If one of the larger waves roaring along rises up before them and its crest breaks exactly onto our little ship, there is the danger of being swamped by the tonnes of water suddenly dumped on to her. This weight can roll a boat, inundate her and possibly cause her to founder. The more worrying aspect though is that these storms, being circular in their motion, have a habit of the wind changing direction and subsequently pushing up murderous cross seas. These can then come at a boat from any direction, causing extreme havoc. So far, the wind has been constant and her captain hopes fervently that this does not change.
Dripping wetly down the companionway he hands over the watch to WK who starts upward with a mile wide grin and gleam in his eyes – he loves these conditions! The hatch slides closed with a click and the cacophony of noise topsides is replaced with an eerie stillness below. The roaring wind is replaced with a dull moaning sound, belying the ferocity of the extreme conditions outside. Happy to wash down a biscuit with tea, our captain falls into his bunk.
Seconds later, or it seems, sibling crew is waking him. In reality he has been asleep for almost four hours, but cannot believe it. Grabbing handholds out in to the saloon, he looks around in the dull red glow from the nav area. The noise from outside sounds as though it has gone up a notch or two, with the pitch and yaw of our little ship also more violent. A wind reading shows that it is coming in now at more than fifty knots. Some waves have been breaking over the boat, so it is decided to call off the watch, seal the hatch, and everyone below until daylight. Her captain goes up for a few minutes to look out and make sure in his mind everything is safe and secure.
‘Don’t worry’, she assures him. ‘I am quite comfortable in this mode, I will ride out the storm all night’.
Crouching under the spray hood he looks out in wonder. Dark as it is, and it is pitch black with no stars to inject any light into the raging scene, he can see surprisingly well. Walls of water march continuously toward them. Some huge and black as they rise up and look to break, but don’t, others breaking with the roar of an express train and passing by with a loud hiss of troubled, turbid, boiling foam.
On the point of turning to go below, out of the corner of his eye, something makes his heart stop. Far off in the blackness, rearing above all the other waves in between, is a solid white wall which looks to be a hundred metres wide. He has heard and read about rogue waves, but never seen one. This looks like one coming now. It is massive and dwarfs everything else around it. Higher and higher it rises and is coming directly at our little ship. The front wall is just a mass of boiling white froth tumbling and crashing down its own face. No boat could survive being caught up in that.
Looking down the tunnel of his life, her captain decides he will be better off below and vaults down the hatch, crashing, in his haste, to the cabin floor. Scrambling to his feet, he slams and bolts the hatch shut, managing a strangled cry for the others to hang on. Watching from the cabin strip windowlight and gripping the overhead handhold he sees it close on them, looming to an impossible height in front of her. Ever higher it rears, up and over them, till it seems it is going to crash onto her with all of its terrible weight. At the final moment, as once again her captain is peering down that tunnel with a range of life events parading before his eyes, the monster subsides a little at their end, and will largely pass to starboard.
Even though out of the main path of this freakish brute, and therefore not going to take the main force, it hits our little ship amidships with a huge crash, and she shudders convulsively in her tracks. The view through the glass is obliterated with innocent bubbling water as it gushes over her deck from stem to stern. Then, it is gone, hissing into the distance. Our little ship, amazingly staying mostly upright, kicks herself over the top, rights, and readies herself for the next wave.
An eerie silence succeeds, and on looking around, a small trickle of water from the hatch track rail and the kettle leaping from its holder on the stove, is the only evidence down here of the behemoths’ passing. Our three stalwarts, now all in the cabin, gaze at one another speechless, but with a glow in their faces, happy that they, and our little ship, are still in one piece. Having witnessed and felt the terrible power of nature, and survived who knows what might have been, they all look heavenward, nodding their thanks – no atheists here tonight!
Several more of these ‘freight trains’ of waves pummel them during the rest of this long night. The approaching nerve taughtening roar, wide eyed breath holding of her crew, until it either slides harmlessly, hissing by, or slams her amidships with the subsequent wait to see how far she will heel, and how long she will take to right herself with water streaming off her decks back into the black turbulence all around. Lightning has not been a feature of this storm and her cabin has been lit only a few times during the night.
With the tired dawn approaching, the wind frees and abates. Sunrise sees an almost clear rain washed cobalt sky all around, containing a few straggling wisps of cloud, chasing the storm down, somewhere over the southern horizon. Now the storm has blown itself out, and the breeze dropping below twenty knots, mildly ruffling the surface, the staysail comes down. The furling genoa rolls out, snapping tight as it fills. Mid morning, the wind has virtually died, but a considerable swell is running still. Around noon, the southern breeze is back, billowing in over her port beam. Within minutes she is bowling along, white wake creaming, as if nothing had ever happened, and last night was just a faraway fantasy.'
Images courtesy Jessica Watson, Sail World and Centreboard Yachts
You can read more about heavy weather sailing and planning for your sailing ' adventure of a lifetime' in my ebook 'Voyage of the Little Ship Tere Moana' downloadable from my website http://www.sailboat2adventure.com
Monday, 17 May 2010
After 210 days at sea this gifted and determined sixteen year old completed her 'voyage of discovery' and arrived home to a tumultuous welcome of wellwishers both on the water and on land. Seeing Sydney Harbour and surrounds one would have been excused in thinking it was the start of the Sydney Hobart classic yacht race.
Watson's circumnavigation route planned to start and end at Sydney and passed near New Zealand on her way to Cape Horn, Cape of Good hope, Cape Leeuwin and South East Cape. In accordance with the definitions set out by the WSSRC for circumnavigations, the equator must be crossed; this was done near Kiritimati. However there is still disagreement amongst commentators whether the voyage complied with the definition of a circumnavigation.
Her boat is a 10.23-metre S&S 34, the same design as used by Jon Sanders, David Dicks and Jesse Martin in their circumnavigations. It was obtained and refitted with new equipment under the supervision of Don McIntyre and Bruce Arms, both skilled and experienced sailors. The refitting included a new galley, reconditioned diesel and water tanks, and a complete rebuild of the electrical system. Jessica Watson was also deeply involved in the preparation of the boat, which she named Ella's Pink Lady. Most of the time the boat is steered by a self-steering windvane system. She has named the system Parker after the driver of the pink Rolls-Royce in the TV series Thunderbirds.
During her 'shake down' cruise, sailing from Brisbane to Sydney, on her first night out she collided with the Silver Yang, a 63,000-tonne bulk carrier at about 02.00 am on 9 September, 2009 near Point Lookout. Watson's sloop, the 10.4 metre Ella's Pink Lady, was dismasted in the collision. She was able to retain control and motor in to Southport. The full report is yet to be released on this incident.
Bringing the boat to Sydney for repairs and additional equipment (upgraded AIS system for one) put back her departure date to 18 October 2009.
The following seven months alone at sea tested her abilities and capabilities to the max and she has come through as a shining light and inspiration to all who have followed her, stepping ashore finally on Saturday at the Opera House, a different young woman from the one that left these shores in 2009.She stepped off her boat reluctantly, shed some emotional tears with her family, composed herself and then graciously went about her business of acknowledging the gathered crowds, accepting gifts and delivering a wonderfully humble, thankful and concise few words that would put most politicians to shame.
Cited as a hero by one and all including the Prime Minister of Australia Kevin Rudd, she immediately and quite firmly refuted this by saying that she was just an ordinary girl with a dream and the determination to follow it through. It is easy to see this just from the set of her face and her clear and steady gaze. Jessica will become a role model for youngsters everywhere.
Tuesday she achieves the tender age of seventeen and one wonders what she will do now. With most of her life in front of her Jessica can go forward and in her own words achieve anything that she puts her mind to - and I am sure she will. Happy birthday to Jessica and like the mighty Wandering Albatross when at sea, rarely lands on water, keep on flying!
You can read more about voyaging and passagemaking in my ebook 'Voyage of the Little Ship Tere Moana' downloadable from my website http://www.sailboat2adventure.com