Thursday, April 14, 2016

War Wounds

430 nautical miles to the finish line with another 120 to Seattle.  
VISIT SEATTLE is the white boat.  Martin is almost home!
I have been texting with Martin all day today.  It has been so wonderful.  He said that they have had winds at 115knots and that it has been "wicked".  I would say so!

We officially have two more days before our family is reunited.  I can not wait.  Martin can't wait a little more than me.  I think he will be one happy man to get off the boat onto dry land.  

Remember when I wrote that I have been a little worried about Martin due to the weather in my last post? Well, I've had this one on the back burner since yesterday knowing about Martin's hands.  It's had me worried since I read it.  He's really suffering because the gloves that he has been wearing have never completely dried out all the way.  Oh man, the misery.  Well, why don't I just let you read it in his own words.... Enjoy!


"This endurance race across the North Pacific has taken its toll on both the boats and crew. These boats are built to take it, but yesterday we heard that Garmin and Da Nang - Viet Nam were damaged in the heavy seas. From the limited information we heard, it sounds like their helming stations were damaged and possibly disabled from heeling over too hard. Da Nang - Viet Nam also ripped out part of their mainsail track, requiring them to drop out and motor the remainder of the way. Earlier in the race three of the boats, including us on Visit Seattle, lost their bowsprits as the toll for pounding through the steep oncoming waves.

Last night we encountered a big blow with winds gusts in the 90-knot range.  One gust measured 115 knots. Although during the storm we were running with just the storm jib and no mainsail, we took a massive wave over the side that auto-inflated three of the deck crews' life vests.

There has also been the usual wear and tear on our boat, which makes us currently look a bit ragged. We are about to lose our Visit Seattle logo from our mainsail due to chafe, and many of our previous tape repairs have come undone and are barely hanging on.  

As for the crew itself, we have held together fairly well. Aside from the first part of the race when more than half the crew suffered with fever and a bad chest infection, we are all in one piece. 

As for myself, I'm holding together, but continue to fight the nausea when it comes. I've also recently had a talk with the Clipper Race medical support team at PRAXES and they diagnosed my hands as having the equivalent of Trench Foot (think soldiers in WW1) from the constant wet and cold. Turns out that Rich, our embedded Clipper Race cameraman, has the same type of red splotches on his foot.

Here is to us holding it together for our last week crossing the Pacific.