A day of Dramas

Cat-man-do
Sun 9 Dec 2007 07:27
I'd love to tell you the day dawned warm and sunny,
but it didn't. The storm had stayed with us through the night and all of the
morning with some very high winds and torrential downpours. So torrential in
fact that Howard and myself decided to follow Robin Knox-Johnsons' example and
collect water in a pan to make a cup of tea! The rain was so heavy, it didn't
take long and we eagerly "brewed up" to see if it would in fact taste any
different/better. We both agree it tasted "different" but find it hard to decide
if it was actually "better"
After sending the blog and E mails at yesterday
lunch time, we received an E mail that a yacht had sent a Mayday and giving it's
last known position. We checked and it was 60 miles or so in front of us. We
contacted Falmouth coastguard, the recue co-ordinators and they asked us to
respond. "Spam" is a Prout catamaran (an early version of this one) and 31 feet
long. It had lost it's mast, which had then punctured the hull and she was
sinking. The crew were abandoning to the liferaft.
Though not part of this event it was obvious that
vessels taking part in this were likely to be nearest. We set off in the
direction of the yacht with as much sail up as we dared and the engines giving
us an extra push. Fortunately after 10 minutes or so, the coastguard rang us
back to say that another yacht had arrived on the scene and all the crew had
safely been taken on board. It later transpired that their liferaft had also
been punctured too, not a good position to be in.
Other dramas of the day fortunately didn't involve
us, but several yachts in the fleet were reporting damage through the
weather and having varying degrees of difficulties. Most serious however is a
member of one crew who was hit by the boom of the boat and knocked unconscious,
unfortunately he remained unconscious afterwards. A cruise liner in the area was
sent to liaise with the yacht and the crew member taken off the yacht. I
don't his current condition but our thoughts go out to members of the crew
and of course the crewman's family.
As for our day, it's been hard going, although
I love the sea when it's rough, after a few days it can get a little "tedious"
Our Autohelm was unable to keep the boat pointing the right way in these
conditions, so a lot of the day has been spent doing half an hour each of
steering by hand. It was whilst Rob was steering that we decided to ring Rebel T
and see how they were getting along. I was happily chatting to Tim when the
stern (back) of the boat was felt to lift and we started surfing down a wave.
This in itself is not that unusual but it normally only lasts a short time
before the wave overtakes you and you slow down. On this occasion though, it
just kept going and going. All eyes went to the speed readout, as this is the
time you normally manage to get the big speeds. It proved to be no
disappointment as we surfed to a new record of 21.7 knots! We were all screaming
like a bunch of schoolgirls at a Take That concert. Tim, who was still on the
phone at the time, wanted to know what was going on. I explained and
he very coolly and calmly (as only Tim can) asked " Don't you
think that's a little TOO fast"?
Rob had taken my record and no one could see that
speed being beaten.
A little while later, I was on the helm and all was
well with the world. We were occasionally surfing, nothing special but enjoyable
non the less. I was keeping a wary eye out behind for any big waves so that I
could steer accordingly. About 15 minutes into my session I noticed a wave
behind that looked a little on the large side, but nothing too excessive.
However by the time it reached us, it had gathered it's strength and was
going to let us have it. The stern of the boat reared up, but where usually
you get to the point that it stops lifting, it just kept going. All I could see
was a huge trough deepening in front of the boat as it got lifted higher and
higher. I knew this one was going to be different. Eventually the boat balanced
on top of this huge "cliff" of water and the bows started to drop into it. As it
did this, for the first time ever in my (albeit short) sailing career I shouted
a naughty word and earnestly meant it. The bows continued dropping until we were
very nearly vertical at the top edge of the wave.
I could hear the others in the cabin, they were
looking out of the front windows into a great void where all the water had
disappeared beneath us. Nine and a half tons of Catamaran then launched itself
down the void. All I could do was desperately try and keep it straight. For the
boat to go sideways now would have certainly ended very badly and in all
likelihood us being the next Mayday call. It just dropped and
dropped as the hulls vibrated loudly in protest at being pushed so far
beyond their natural speed.
I managed one glance at the speed as we still
accelerated down this cliff of water and it was showing 24.7knots. What the
final speed was, I have no idea, and was certainly too busy to watch. We finally
reached the bottom of the trough, which can be dangerous part. If the bows
decide to "dig in" because of the angle they are being forced down, there is
a real danger of the boat "pitchpoling" (where the boat ends up upside down
after standing on it's nose and going over) Fortunately due to good design, good
luck or a combination of the two, the hulls dug themselves out from under the
water and we levelled out as the wave passed us by.
There followed a brief period of silence followed
it has to be admitted, by rather a lot of expletives.
Everything was ok, and no damage done. I ended my
stint of driving shortly after and was immediately offered a
Scotch for my "efforts"
You'll be pleased to know that as I type this on
the Saturday night, the weather appears to be calming down, and the autohelm is
now coping again. Hopefully we'll have a quieter night of it
tonight.
It's now 4 in the morning local time, with Howard
and myself back on watch.It's strange how as time goes on, things change.
Sleeping at first was difficult, with the motion of the boat and the noise. Now
however, it would appear virtually any weather, the problem isn't getting to
sleep, it's the waking up again afterwards. Only getting a maximum of four hours
at a time does leave you feel a little "groggy" most of the time.Sleep
deprivation is certainly an issue, with myself working shifts I guess I
should find it a little easier to adjust.
You'll remember that I mentioned earlier that the
weather seemed to be calming down? Apparently whilst we've been asleep the
wind's been consistently in the Force 9 range. So much for my theory
then.....
I will however tell you this before I
go.
The sky tonight is finally, bar the odd very small
cloud, clear. There's no moon and there must be thousands upon thousands of
stars in the sky, so many in fact, that in parts it looks like there's a thin
milky stain smeared across the sky. Way, way in the distance is a bank of
cloud sat low on the horizon, from behind which there are constant flashes of
lightning, probably hundreds of miles away. These illuminate the clouds from
behind throwing them into stark relief with rounded almost transluscent edges as
each flash occurs.
To cap it all there's been a stunning display of
shooting stars, leaving bright glowing trails across the sky for a second or so
as they go.
Wish you were here?
B xxx
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