14 October: We have been stuck in yet another wind hole. It has been quite frustrating as when there is wind, we sail hard and fast; but there is little we can do in light winds. We are probably more vigilant about trim and helming to make every minute and nautical mile count. We knew we were in the ITCZ as things became squally rather quickly - some gave us good speed and others sent us in an undesired direction. During one of these squalls, I did have one of the best showers of my life (mind you, hadn’t had one for 8 days prior . . . ). Warner and I grabbed the shampoo and hit the snake pit for a quick hair wash and lots of laughs. What we didn’t know was that the squall joined up with a few others and we spent the next 2 hours having hard, driving rain scrub the rest of our skin and clothes clean as well! This entire trip, I have had some real highs, but they are almost always followed shortly thereafter with a real low. This time, the low came in the form of an e-mail from Clipper, requesting that we actually turn on the engine! I was gutted. So many feelings and thoughts ran through my mind. But, the decision was obvious, we had a Clipper schedule to keep. The reality is, this is their race, not mine. It is certainly far more important to see Pete and crew with a podium finish in Pete’s hometown (Capetown) that everyone will remember than to eek out an 8th or 9th place for Race 2 of Leg 1 that no one will remember. We really need some time to repair and prepare the boat (and crew) for the next Leg. I hated hearing the sound of the engine being turned on. 16 October: 0500 to 0800 hours - again a true low point - I truly started off the day on the wrong foot. After my watch, I went to bed (any bed - we are assigned bunks, but are ‘hot bunking’, so you don’t always have the pleasure of sleeping in your own bed). As someone was already in my assigned bunk, my backpackpack with bedding was stowed away behind them, thus, in accessible. Cold and wet (it is quite lively on deck with waves and spray), I curled up in the bunk, only to find that it smelled of feet- very smelly, dead feet. At 0800, I was given good news - we were raising the sails - but my clothes, arms, and even my hair smelled like feet. I promptly Febreezed my body! The day was saved as Elaine and I had Mother Watch for the next 24 hours. What we had forgotten was what it was like to cook and clean for 18 people, at about 20 degrees of center, while sailing in lumpy seas and decent wind speeds. We deemed our watch ‘Hell’s Kitchen’. Water everywhere, cans and pots flying, bruises, stifling hot and steamy galley (100F), ovens that wouldn’t stay lit, and Neptune’s Stew (see below) trying to escape from its undersized vessel. Elaine and I laughed through out the ordeal. About 1638 hours, we crossed the Equator! All crew were shellbacks (never having crossed before) and were subjected to charges of ‘crimes’ by Neptune’s Court. Of course, we were all found guilty and punished with 2 ladles of Neptune’s evil brew from galley leftovers and whatnots - and then kindly given a bucket of sea water for a rinse. I think I still have lentils in my hair! We are cruising along in the 10 knot range with SE winds from 13-20 knots. It is hot, but cooling a bit from the fresh breeze. The sun is really strong between 10 degrees and the Equator. The sea is an amazing blue that cannot be captured adequately on film. A moderate sea state keeps us on our toes - and off our toes as well. The stars at night are nearly down to the horizon (when not hidden by squalls) and brighter than I have never seen them before (even more than in the most remote parts of Baja). Flying fish are everywhere and are just such silly creatures. As we near the finish mark (still quite a few days out), I am struck with the reality that the first part of my adventure is nearly over. It is a harsh reality. I have been living the life of an ocean racer for nearly 2 months now. I am not sure how I will handle the transition back to my prior life. Please be patient with me if I eat like an animal, throw my toilet paper out the window, pull at the life jacket that is no longer there, check the wind direction, ask for white tea every 2 hours, and seem irritated by modern day living and luxuries. email from Shana today: We are officially in the ITCZ (Inter Tropical Convergence Zone, better known as the Doldrums) - squall-o-rama! It dumped on us all night last night during our watch and my oilies are soaked through and through (there is NO such thing as waterproof). Today, on 0880 watch, I took a shower in the snake pit and then proceeded to get drenched for the next 2 hours (w/ 35+ kts wind at times). Warner and I were laughing like idiots (as usual) the entire time. It’s 32 C and cloudy, the squalls have stopped momentarily but I expect them to regain momentum the minute I am back on watch (1600 for today). Here’s a note from Quannon, who is one of “California’s” crew from Oakland. On California all crew are on one of two watches, affectionately nicknamed the Terminators and the Barbarians. That is, unless it’s your turn to be on mother watch. Each day, at 10:00, one person from each watch is pulled through a sort of time-space continuum into this mysterious third watch. For the next 24 hours the world changes from sail changes, helming, repairs and sleep to long periods of cooking and cleaning interspersed with shorter bursts of cooking. And cleaning. It’s now 22:10 on the boat and Russell and I have wrapped up the day’s mother duties. After a long day of looking after the crew, we’re both eagerly awaiting that most sought after reward that can only be earned after a day of mother duty. After a day of cooking lunch, washing up, cleaning the heads, cleaning the crew quarters, making tea, washing up, cooking dinner, and finally, yes, washing up, mothers come to that quiet time in the evening when they can finally reward themselves with a shower and, in the case of a male duo mother team like ours, a shave. Memories of the day’s hard work soon fade away as one emerges from the shower wearing clean clothes and feeling human again. Life is good. The boat seems faster now. Those dark stormy clouds on the horizon have parted and the melodic chirping of birds (yes, even in the middle of the Atlantic) can be heard. Dolphins leap over the bow, flipping acrobatically while laughing in their sing-song dolphin ways. Yes, life is good. And in this hot and humid tropical climate in which we find ourselves currently sailing, this euphoric state of non-salty, non-sweaty bliss lasts for approximately eight minutes. But it’s worth it. Quannon 10/9 We are finally in the tropcis and the trades. Smooth sailing, no squalls for at least a week. Soon to change in the ITCZ. Last night, I smelled vegetation, despite the fact that we are over 500 miles off Senegal and wind is NE, so it couldn’t be from Cape Verdes. Also have had a few flying fish land on deck - which is a bit disconcerting until identify the strange noise near the sheets. HI! I can’t believe it has been 2 weeks since we left La Rochelle. Time flies when you are having fun, as they say. We have experienced a few squalls, including a Force 8 (35+ knots) storm where my watch had to change the headsail to something a bit smaller, all around 0400 hours and with driving rain and big seas (= we were soaked through and through but laughing). There is nothing quite like putting your foul weather gear on the following night and having them STILL be wet and salty. Eeeew. Antimonkey Butt Powder was a great contribution to the crew supplies. Most of our fresh fruit and veg is gone, but we are still eating very well. No scurvy here! It is incredibly hot down below and sleeping can be difficult due to the temps and the stagnant (smelly!) air. My i-pod helps drown out the sounds of everyone’s bunk fans (which aren’t that effective, but better than nothing) and the constant loud sounds made by the sails, rigging and winches. I haven’t showered in a week! But, I didn’t start to smell funny until today - remedied with a few buckets of salt water over my head. I also typically only change my outer clothes once a week. They don’t smell yet (I think . . ). In this becalmed weather, we were able to wash some of our clothes in a big plastic tub with special soap that works in saltwater. Apparently, we have found our very own windhole and are honing our lightwind helming skills. We are all still a happy bunch, just a bit bored and very eager to get back to some high speed racing. However, our slow speeds have allowed us to “stop and smell the roses” - we have been visited by flying fish (in the snakepit!), birds (swallows), sailfish (we think), many different kinds of dolphins (common, harbour,Atlantic spotted), bait fish, little sharks (they like our dinnerscraps), AND a big Sei whale. In addition to taking my turn working each position on deck, I am also the designated boat marine biologist. I have been logging all dolphins and whales for real scientific research purposes. Unfortunately, we have also observed quite a bit of plastic items and bits float passed. Today, we saw our first bits of Saharan sand/grit which will blow all the way to the Caribbean. Sailmail from Shana on 10/2 It is heating up even more as we continue south. The winds have been fluky for all of the boats, which means hot and blazing days on deck and a very steamy and stuffy bunk area. We have fans installed, but they only seem to move the hot air around. I have had one glorious ’shower’ since La Rochelle and will not have another one for 5 more days. For some reason, I don’t care about whether or not I have shaved my legs or whether I can get a comb through my hair. We are in racing mode, even when the winds are light. Butwhen the weather is appropriate, we do throw buckets of salt water on each other. If you ask me, I don’t think I am smelly. I do have many merino wool layers and take frequent baby-wipe baths, but you landlubbers may disagree with my assessment. I am having a personal war with the port head. It is a hand pump marine variety toilet (nothing luxurious here) and hates to fully pump all of the water out when you really need it. I have had two near up-the-rim events whilst the boat was heeling. Privacy and modesty were long thrown overboard, but it was still a bit embarassing when I had to ask Dan, one of our engineers, to help get the water down the pipe. Yipes-it’s a good thing we are all friends! We are on a two-watch system, where two groups alternate racing the boat to its best speed and position. The hours are 0200 to 0500, 0500 to 0800 (breakfast), 0800 to 1200 (lunch), 1200 to 1600 (team meeting),1600 to 2000, 2000 to 2300, and 2300 to 0200. This way, we all share in the best and worst watch times and enjoy all of our meals together. Although we may have 3 or 4 hours for an off watch, you rarely are able to sleep the entire time. Most of us have adjusted to this system already and we have realised in times of bad weather, you really don’t need that much sleep to function. Some nights have been crystal clear with brilliant stars (so nice tohave a star to steer the boat by) and others filled with cold, dark clouds and squalls. Recently, my watch had to perform a headsail change around 0400 in a Force 8 storm. At one point, Emma W and I were on the bow collecting the Yankee 1 as it dropped, with rain pelting in our eyes and the ocean splashing over the our legs in the dark - and we were laughing like maniacs because we actually thought it was really fun. It certainly takes a different kind of person to do this kind of race. I am on a boat with 17 of them! :) Super-Dave, this one’s for you: When the late night and early morning watches are slow, I have turned the coffee grinder area of the deck into a ‘gym’. I have converted a few crew to join me in planks, press ups, crunches, and more. It keeps us warm and helps pass the time that always seems to come to a grinding halt when it is dark. We have seen dolphins, whales, flying fish, and even a few curious sharks. We hope to see Rio in the near future instead of, say, Christmas time! But each and every day brings new sights, adventures, laughs, and types of bread, so we really can’t complain. Signing out at 2250 for a quick kip before my next watch at 0200. I can’t belive it is already October! Bagley. Here’s an excerpt from the crew log and pictorial reference: As the race from La Rochelle to Rio nears the end of the first week the intense rivalry heats up along with the temperature (26 C). But this competition is not with the other Clipper boats that are considered to be a minor annoyance to our victory podium glory in Hull next July. Oh no, this is far more serious. The two watches aboard California - Terminators and Barbarians - are in a titanic struggle to prove who is the premier crew. After every watch our resident statistician Paul Oen logs in all the data: change in log, boat speed, apparent wind and, the ultimate arbiter of victory, “velocity made good”. That means speed in the right direction (not much point in cracking along at 20 knots in a northeast heading if your intended destination is Rio). The result after each watch is anticipated with heightened expectancy along with verbal sparring that would make the trash talking before a boxing fight seem like a debate at a Quaker meeting. But the overwhelming important variables of wind speed and direction during the watch are not taken into consideration which makes the exercise statistically meaningless. From that last statement I could be seen to be eating a lot of sour grapes from someone on the free-riding watch. Even the “Mother Watch” where a member of each watch does the cooking and cleaning for the crew is not immune to this feuding. The photo of two watch champions facing up to each other in the galley before they start their duties exemplifies the Darwinian struggle that exists on California. Anonymous (retribution could be severe if my identity were known) (Editor: Hint. Shana has a distinctive tattoo on her arm) We had a great start in very light winds, but those that were slightly ahead of us caught the first bit of wind and took off like rockets and missed the incoming negative tidal influence. We have been fighting our way up to the fleet and are currently off of northern Spain. Chute flying the entire time, weather is beautifully warm (finally). My current nickname (other than Bags) is Three Hats as I have been known to wear so many during the chilly night watches. I seem to have lost all Viking and Norwegian cold weather mojo our family once had. We had a rip in the spinnaker and I was chosen (er, volunteered) to go up and out the pole to spike it (to release it). What fun! We have a great crew and skipper and are really having a good time and some great fresh cooked meals (Finland is currently eating cup of soup so we hear!). Sleep is broken but solid and I may have to rig a suspended bunk at home :). I am hoping to keep busy grinding sheets and sweating halyards to lose those few pounds of cheese I ate during our extended stop-over in lovely La Rochelle. The ocean so adored by legendary French sailor, Bernard Moitessier, was in a benign mood this morning. As a watery sun rose over the town of La Rochelle, the Clipper 09-10 Round the World Yacht Race fleet was lead out of the port by Joshua, the yacht raced 40 years ago by Moitessier in the Sunday Times Golden Globe race. Clipper Race founder and Chairman, Sir Robin Knox-Johnston, won the Golden Globe while Moitessier, so in tune with the simplicity of life at sea, turned his back on the race and completed another circuit around the Southern Ocean before making landfall in Tahiti. As the ten o’clock start gun fired for the race to Rio de Janeiro, crews across the ten boats had to work hard to harness what little breeze there was. A mere zephyr blowing at just three knots meant that a mixture of lightweight kites and wind seekers were hoisted, generating the smallest amount of boat speed for the teams. With 28 days of racing ahead of them, it will be a frustrating first 24 hours at sea and intense concentration will be required to gain the maximum speed through constant sail trimming. Team Finland set a strong example and it quickly meant that they headed the pack half an hour in to the race. First to cross the start line was Cork, Ireland, followed by Qingdao,Team Finland, California and Uniquely Singapore. Jamaica Lightning Bolt may have been sixth across the start line but her choice of windseeker over spinnaker was a good one and the team was quickly chasing down the Finnish boat. Hull & Humber, Edinburgh Inspiring Capital and Spirit of Australia completed the starting order. Viewers of BBC’s Breakfast TV programme, plus those watching on BBC World were able to get a crew member’s view of the race start from on board Edinburgh Inspiring Capital as the start gun fired. Team Finland, Jamaica Lightning Bolt, Spirit of Australia andCalifornia were leading the fleet approximately half an hour into the 4, 890-mile race to Rio de Janeiro in Brazil. Well, we came in last place but still had a great time. We seemed to have taken a much longer route than the other boats. Even after a few protests against 2 other boats, we didn’t move up in rankings. We intentionally didn’t race hard and unlike other boats, we didn’t break anything or anyone. We are one of the most tight knit and happy crews and that is what we are going to remember from this race. not necessarily how we placed in every race. We will turn up the heat as the race progresses. The Nroth Sea was kinder to us on the eay down than it was during the delivery. We also had a moderate sail through the usually treacherous Bay of Biscay. Winds were up to 30 knots and the temps dropped low at night. I never quite acclimatized to it, but I think it is mostly warmer sailiing from here on out. Hope all is well at home. We are enjoying the sites of La Rochelle today after 2 hard days of boat work. I can now repack winches, fix a marine head, replace hanks and do sail repair! I just hope I don’t have to do any of it while underway. Next Up: Clipper RTW starts the next leg to Rio de Janiero on Sept 22. Then, 28 days at sea including crossing the Atlantic and the Equator. End of Leg 1 to Rio
Tuesday, October 20th, 2009 In the ITCZ
Wednesday, October 14th, 2009 Into The Tropics
Friday, October 9th, 2009 SailMail, 10/5
Monday, October 5th, 2009 Somewhere Off Africa…
Saturday, October 3rd, 2009 An Informal Contest On “California”
Thursday, October 1st, 2009 Race 2 Begins
Tuesday, September 22nd, 2009 
9/19-Reached La Rochelle
Sunday, September 20th, 2009
Sunday, March 31, 2013
2009/2010 Clipper Race - Leg One Blogs - Part 2
Wednesday, October 14th, 2009
Wednesday, September 23rd, 2009
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