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The current race standings as of today. Team Visit Seattle is the white boat |
Hi All-
I have been a little late in posting this and I apologize. Martin sent this out on Monday and well, I have had a wedding, taxes, guests, taxes, planning a grand welcome home party for Martin and had some shift changes in crew that I have had to deal with on AMARA. So, as you'll read below, you'll find that both Martin and I have had to deal with some pretty rough waters these past few days. But our heads are above water now and we are hoping for some smooth sails going forward.
I think you'll love this post that Martin sent because it really gives some great insight on what he is currently doing aboard Visit Seattle and how he is dealing with his seasickness (which he isn't all that well).
Enjoy!
—Kym
"Our Clipper Race sailboat has a crew of twenty which functions as a small
little society in the middle of the ocean. In some ways we are
like two
large families named Starboard Watch and Port Watch living in the same
house and using the same facilities. For 4 hours at a time at night, and
for 6
hours during the day, one family sails, manages the boat, cleans, and empties
bilges while the other family sleeps. Then at the watch changes the
roles reverse, and those coming off watch, take the warm bunks of
those who just went up on deck to start their shift. Hot bunking as we call it,
affords us little personal space of our own, as we are stacked in together
liked sardines. I'm on the top bunk and if I raise my elbow, I hit the ceiling.
Our off watch time, isn't just for sleeping, as there are often support duties
like packing up sails, eating, and fixing things that can easily eat away at
the time. Just getting into and out of our foul weather gear and putting
on and taking off our life jackets takes up to 30 minutes. To protect our
night vision and not offend those sleeping, everything is done under red
lighting.
We have been sailing for 8 days and covered over 1500 miles and are some
800 miles off of Japan. Our initial few days were in the relatively calm waters
crossing the Yellow Sea and the Sea of Japan, but as soon as we got
into the Pacific Ocean, the rolling sea swells and head on wind waves
made me gravely seasick. We bounced around like we were inside a washing
machine. For 2 nights I slept on the floor on top of a sail, unable to get out
of my own life jacket and foul weather gear as I threw up repeatedly. On deck,
I didn't feel any better and remember laying on deck after throwing up, and
someone came by and washed the puke off the deck, not too worried if I got
doused with water in the process.
In addition to the constant bouncing motion, the boat is usually healing
over (leaning) at a 30-50 degree angle. This creates challenges getting around
and doing things like cooking, eating, or going to the bathroom. As a result,
there is no table to eat at, we simply sit near the galley or on deck and usually
have one bowl meals. Actually served in dog bowls, as they function the best.
In the micro sized head that makes an airplane bathroom look spacious, everyone
sits down. Also interesting is that there are no toilet seats, which I'm told,
is for male safety reasons in the rough conditions.
As we are a racing sailboat, the process of sailing goes on 24 hours day
and 7 days a week. We are always looking at the weather, our routing, and
the
position of the other boats, and think about how to gain an advantage.
We are constantly working to make our boat go a little faster by
helming more efficently, trimming sails, or changing them to best suit the
conditions. On board we have 14 sails, including 3 spinnakers and 3
yankees that get changed often depending on conditions, and a staysail and a
mainsail. Our largest yankee weighs about 250 lbs. and has to get from
the sail locker up on deck, then hanked (clipped) on to the forestay, and
manually hoisted up the mast. It is very tiring to lug around and takes a
coordinated team effort. Fortunately we have "coffee grinders" which
allow us to turn the winches faster then just using the manual winch handle.
Every headsail that comes off the forestay must also be folded up and
packed away, and folding big sails on the windy deck can
be challenging. After several days of bashing through the waves
our
bowsprit has broken preventing us from using our spinnakers.
Our little society or crew is made up of people from all walks of life
and nationalities with a great esprit de corp. Athough I'm just
sailing the
Pacific leg of the race, many of the crew are doing a full
circumnavigation.
I've really enjoyed getting to know them as we talk through the night,
share duties, or a bunk. We each bring something different and uniquely our own
to our Visit Seattle team. Our skipper Huw Fernie, manages the overall
process of sailing this Clipper ocean race, keeps us safe, informed, and
sometimes entertained as well. Because he was asked to throw out the first
pitch at an upcoming Seattle Mariners Baseball game, today we held pitching
practice and the crew cheered as he practiced pitching rotten oranges down the
deck and over the side.
I’ll share more insights on the crew in the future.
So this is life aboard Visit Seattle. I've learned that it is
partly an ocean sailing race, partly a very challenging expedition, and partly
a fun adventure similar to summer camp. Thanks for reading; I hope you
will join in with us for the voyage.
—Martin"