After the usual sail parade and a mock start at the Seattle waterfront we were sent off by numerous spectators on land, by several yachts around us and even by a boat of the fire brigade that used its water cannon as sign of farewell. The motoring out of the Puget Sound and through the Straits of Juan de Fuca took us again more than 12 hours, during which the new joiners had the chance to settle themselves in and were introduced to the rules and practices on our boat. The start eventually took place on April 29th at dusk and once again with a Le Mans starts procedure. The question that was on everyone’s mind: When can we finally sail again in shorts and t-shirts? Sailing with a lot of wind is great but after mastering three weeks of continuously wearing foulies (main sailing gear), big boots, hats and gloves the crew was craving for warmer temperatures at this point. The weather prediction for the first days was about 25-30 knots mainly from the north. Our foulies made their appearance on deck only on a few occasions, either during the night or when smaller squalls passed us. For most of the time we were able to fly our asymmetric spinnakers (wind from behind the beam, but not directly behind). In these conditions the boat speed averaged around 9-10 knots and thus days with more than 200nm sailed were no rarity. After about a week of sailing we were at the same latitude as Los Angeles, however, the good progress had faded, as the temperatures began to rise.
The sleeping down below was a real challenge and the few fans mainly circulated the warm, sticky air, since the hatches (small windows on the boat) are extremely small. The crew up on deck battled for some sort of shade and the use of sunscreen was reaching its peak. Even when you were not doing physical work the sweat just dripped down your face and looking at the turquoise blue water around us made us all want to go for a swim. In a few very rare occasions we could convince our skipper Max that we should go for a swim. The crew enjoyed these refreshing breaks with the halyard swings being the most popular attraction (featured in my next video, which will be published soon). However, it is also a weird feeling to be in the water knowing it is more than 1,000 meters deep with no other ship or land in your proximity. Soon the night watches in shorts and t-shirt became the some enjoyable time of the day. After about another week, roughly at the latitude of bottom tip of Baja California, the wind conditions were an utter nightmare, as predictions did not seem to be accurate with wind holes randomly appearing. This of course dimmed the mood on the boat whilst days seamlessly merge into each other. Therefore, it was crucial to keep the boat moving (even though it might not always have been the best course to the finish), but moving a 25-ton boat, which had been stationary, turned out to be extremely hard. Towards the end of the second week the winds once more picked up and at this stage of the race we definitely were pleased with the proximity of the whole fleet.
Nevertheless, I can’t complain: the life on deck sometimes seemed like a holiday as the three pictures below demonstrate. Not only due to the occasional swim breakouts but also because the sunrises and sunsets were just indescribable moments while the dolphin pods playing around our bow were no rarity anymore. As I wrote in one of my earlier blogs already, it is a pure joy to watch the dolphins swimming and twisting themselves around the hull, instantly creating a smile on everyone’s face. The closer we got south, the more we once again had to be aware of the squalls that could hit us any moment. In contrast to the first leg, the squalls mainly consisted of slight wind shifts and increased, but mainly out of a lot warm rain. At some point none bothered getting their foulies on, but instead brought their shampoo up on deck and had a nice shower, which was refreshing and cleaning at the same time.
Before the race start it already was clear that we most likely would not be able to sail all the way to Panama due to the typical low winds in that area. Therefore, the race director had set up several finish lines, allowing him to choose the most appropriate one with regard to the weather conditions. Since we had fixed slots for the crossing of the Panama Canal it was crucial to arrive in Panama on a certain date. In the end, we managed to cross the first and the second line. The race was called off on the 22nd day of the race and roughly 80nm before we would have crossed the third finish line. This was for sure a disappointing moment for us, as the crossing of a finish line after four weeks of sailing is the moment that everyone looks forward to. However, a highlight and definitely a story I will remember for the rest of my life, was the rescue of two turtles. As we motored our skipper Max suddenly saw a ball of twisted and raped fishing nets and buoys. After a closer look we saw that two turtles had been caught in the whole mess. I volunteered to jump into the water with a pair of fins, goggles and a knife, in order to cut them lose again. I managed to free the smaller one of the two turtles, yet was struggling with the bigger one. In an amazing team effort we managed to carefully lift the bigger turtle slightly out of the water with our cargo net and free her too from all the fishing lines around its fins.
Check out the video below that one of my fellow crew members shot during the turtle rescue and read the entire story here: Link
This incident dramatically showed us how the ocean pollution affects the wild life and naturally raised our awareness for a more conscious usage of plastics and generally a better treatment of the ocean. I can only imagine how many animals are cruelly caught in rubbish that humans just dumped in the oceans.
Back to our aim to reach Panama next, it was quickly clear that our fuel would not last to motor-sail until Panama. Therefore, the race committee arranged a three hour stopover in Banana Bay (Costa Rica), where we refuelled the boats and managed to go for some cold beers and a bite. The remaining 30 hours to Panama were a pure joy, as the atmosphere was extremely relaxed on the boat with music, drinks and the excitement of soon crossing the Panama Canal.
Check out my next blog to find out about the Panama Canal crossing: Blog #37
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