pre-race-blog

The Story Continues...

Sun, 17 Jul 2011 23:26:37 +0100

Well it's been a while since my last post and a lot has happened in a very short space of time! Having finished my big sailing adventure almost exactly a year ago it was apparent to me that I couldn't go back to my life as it was before. But necessity meant that I had to, initially at least, with a mortgage to pay not to mention a still substantial overdraft from having a year without work but I knew that I had fundamentally changed and that my life would need to change to suit it. Without a specific plan - other than I wanted to be on or around boats and the water - I set a goal of having made big changes to my circumstance by Easter 2011. I confided in a fair few friends about this plan (to ensure against me getting cold feet and backing down) and then gradually made moves to seek first redundancy from my job (where I knew there were soon to be large cuts) and then to get my house on the market - at a time when let's face it, the housing market is not at its most buoyant!
The house went up for sail just before Christmas 2010, with a small amount of interest in early January and then nothing. I was offered the chance of voluntary redundancy in early March - which I agreed on, with a leaving date of end of June, which was a gamble with no interest in the house. But they say 'fortune favours the brave' and within 3 weeks I had an offer on the house which I accepted. It was now all systems go - I just wasn't quite sure in which direction!

Lots of people asked me what I was going to do and to be honest I had no fixed plan. I wanted to sail and also to race and with that in mind managed to get a place as crew on a J109 - Jambo - entering in the famous Fastnet Race in August of this year. I also was invited back onto Starcross, the Swan 42 that I had helped sail from Jersey down to Porto, north Portugal last October, this time to sail back across the Atlantic from Bermuda to Azores at Easter. It was another great sailing experience, with all kinds of weather, on solo watches, as there were just 3 of us on board but one that I wouldn't have missed for the world. I made lots of great sailing contacts and also made a very close friend in crew-mate and 'Hot Scot', Simon!

So with nothing more than a rough plan to "do bits of sailing and sail training" across the summer and then " take myself off somewhere hot for the winter, to try and write a book about my last few years of madness', I set about selling the contents of my house and trying to whittle my worldy goods down to a few boxes - whatever would fit in my Mum's loft and garage! About 6 weeks ago, a month before I was due to finish my job, I was contacted by Carey from North One TV. They had made the TV series on the last Clipper Race, had just won the contract from Clipper to make the next series, and offered me a job, on the strength of the filming I'd done as crew on the last race! Needless to say I jumped at the chance and said "Yes!" I left my job on 30th June, moved out of my house that weekend and started with North One the following Monday.
My feet haven't really touched the ground since. I've had to get my head around a new company, new people, the concept of making a TV series, a very packed filming schedule before race start on 31st July not to mention getting to grips with filming kit that I've never used before!
I've just spent 2 days filming on CV2 - one of the Clipper 68s, as the skipper and crew start their final sail training week. It was thrilling to be back on the yachts that I know so well, one of which was home for me for a year of my life. CV8 - which was Hull & Humber in the last race is now the Dutch Boat - De Lage Landen - which I believe means "The Low Lands". I was extremely pleased to note that although primarily blue, there is small amount of Orange branding near the stern of the boat. A little bit of our "Umba" lives on!

So, 2 weeks today I'll be back onboard one of the Clipper 68s, setting off on Leg 1, first down to Madeira and then on to Rio. I remember only too well the huge sense of excitement, mingled with slight apprehension of the unknown that we all felt. And I feel for the crew that are about to throw themselves into this great adventure. This time I have the advantage of knowledge. I know just how hard it's going to be for them to get into the swing of life onboard an ocean racing yacht; coping with going the "heads" when the boat is at a 40 degree angle and bouncing around erratically; hanging on in the galley - hanging on to protect yourself from injury and hanging on to the supper as you cook it, to stop it from flying across the galley before you can get it into bowls to feed the hungry crew; dealing with the new pattern of working and sleeping, every 3 or 4 hours and trying to figure out when you clean your teeth and when you "wet-wipe" - your daily hygiene routine; having the confidence to put your 5 weeks of sailing training into practice, and race this hugely powerful yacht in an actual race across an actual ocean. Up to now it's all been talk, a dream, a mission. Suddenly now it's very real and this is the point when everyone has to find out if they are actually up to the challenge or not.
My last few days back on the boats have reminded me of all of this; reminded me of just how basic the boats are; of the mountaineering skills you need just to be able to climb into your bunk; the lack of any kind of personal space there is; the unpleasantness of blocked and leaky heads (loos) and now I wonder if prior knowledge IS an advantage or not. Am I mad to want to put myself back in this situation again, knowing all the challenges that it can produce? Also how am I going to cope with being on board and not being able to sail? This time I must be an observer not a member of the crew. I can't jump on the helm or get stuck in and organise the snake pit when I see it's a mess. This time my challenge is to conquer the new filming equipment I've been given; to keep it intact and working through all conditions; to successfully capture the events, life and emotions of the new Clipper recruits; to follow them on their journey into the unknown and to end up with a series that shares all aspects of this incredible adventure, the dark times and the joy and to hopefully inspire another wave of individuals to break the shackles of everyday life and reach for the unreachable.
As I set off on what appears to be Part 2 of my relationship with this crazy Round the World Yacht Race, I intend to resume the blog that has charted my personal journey from non-sailor to circumnavigator. I had thought that my work here was done but it seems that The Story Continues...

Post Race - 7th April 2001

Thu, 07 Apr 2011 11:41:13 +0100

Passing the Baton

It's half past midnight and I've just put a cake in the oven. That might seem a little unusual but it wouldn't be if I were on a 68ft yacht taking part in the Clipper Round the World Yacht Race. Bread baking – along with cake baking (especially if it was a crew members Birthday the next day) was common place on night watch. Well it was on Hull & Humber anyway.

So I've just got back from Hull Marina – Greenbricks Pub to be exact, where a whole gaggle of people gathered to watch the final episode of Against The Tide – the TV series made about the last race. It seemed a fitting place to come together each week – the scene of the start and finish of the 09/10 Race; the place from which I left with 5 whole weeks sailing experience under my belt and came back to, 10 months later, after 35,000 miles at sea, having lived through an MOB, a crash, the wilds of the Pacific and a Skipper with a broken leg, hearing that our friends on California were in trouble, and with no communication for 24 hours not knowing if they were alive or if the unthinkable had happened. We've had too much wind, not enough wind, been frozen and frazzled, been frustrated, elated, shared tears and so much laughter and joy. It's been fabulous to live through it all again during the series but good as it's been, it can't even begin to convey what it really feels like to live through the Clipper Challenge.

And a Challenge it has certainly been. Each week as we've gathered - friends, past crew, members of Hull Sailing Club (who have been helping me with my newly found addiction for sailing) and of course the new guys, the ever growing number of 11/12 Crew that turn up - each week people ask me what was the most challenging leg, or what was my worst or best moment. Funnily the answer is often the same to both. The worst moments – normally in the most trying circumstances - are also the times I regard as my best. I'm sure if Sir Robin were to hear that, he'd nod and smile knowing that the Clipper magic is still delivering; that people like me are walking away taller, braver and more sure of their own potential, that they can achieve anything that they set their minds to.

Now tonight, at the end of the series it feels like the end of an era. I need to say farewell to my Clipper adventure. It's now the turn of the new guys; of Lizzie and Steve (sporting his lovely new Red 11/12 Breeze jacket), of Lynn and George, of Wendy, Julie, Kay and Leonie and of the Lady (who's name I forget) who came up from Lincoln tonight to watch the programme in the company of her new crew mates. I see the excitement in their faces, the hunger for adventure in their eyes; listen to the stories they already have from their completed weeks of training and feel their anticipation for the journey that awaits them. It will be race start before they know it!

It seems fitting that today the new skippers were announced. As our race series ends, their campaigns start right now and they will already be competitive and planning how to achieve the ultimate overall race win. I envy them all the adventure they still have to come and a big part of me would love to do it again. But now I have to start a separate adventure, the next of many I hope. And so it really is time to pass the Baton on. Good luck to all the Clipper 11/12 skippers and crew. If you gain half as much from the experience as I have, it truly will be the best thing you have ever done...so far!

Race 13 - Day 3, Sun 11th July

Wed, 14 Jul 2010 23:07:45 +0100

I rejoined my watch at 3am this morning and once again positions were changing all the time. The rest of the fleet bunched up again. We were back under white sails and still holding onto first by the skin of our teeth. As the dawn rose and we sailed past Portland Bill and then the friendly training waters of the solent and the Isle of Wight, we spotted Qingdao hoist their spinnaker through the dim light of morning. We followed suit quickly, just managing to hold them off but soon as the sun rose we could see an array of spinnakers – as almost all of the Clipper fleet emerged around on the horizon – some now much bigger and therefore closer than we could have liked! We hadn't led all this way to lose the lead now though so we were on with the trim and ready for battle.

By lunchtime we reached a major landmark – if not THE major landmark of our journey of the last 10 months. We crossed our outbound track by Royal Sovereign Lighthouse, just off Beachy Head, thus completing the circle and “Tying the Knot”. This was the point when those of us – the remaining 8 of us that had set off from Hull last September – could at last claim that we had indeed Sailed around the World. We marked the moment with a tot of Benromach Whiskey each – from a bottle donated by one of the fleet sponsors, and cake made by Albert's mum. It was pretty emotional – well it was for me anyway, as the enormity of the achievement sank-in, and I thought about the incredible experiences and huge challenges we had faced over the past months. Mainly though I was very grateful to have shared that time with some fabulous people – a great team and some new great friends. The bond amongst the crew had undoubtedly made the trip the very special and memorable trip it had been, and this was in no small part down to our original skipper Piers. His great leadership, seamanship and patience with us all, also his determination to ensure everyone got out of the trip what they wanted to and his own sense of fun and passion for sailing, were key in making the Hull & Humber boat the huge success it is. Justin had done well with us since and has undoubtedly driven us forward as a team but we spared a thought and raised a toast to our founding skipper, who we all wished was here to celebrate along with us. If nothing else he would have loved the silly animal masks we all wore to help us celebrate! Nobody knew why we were wearing them but it was a daft thing to do and we'd certainly been nothing if not a daft crew who liked to have fun and that will certainly be one of my lasting impressions of the crew for years to come.

We marked the moment in style but swiftly – we were afterall still racing and several of the other boats having headed closer into the coast, had picked up some additional current and were now slowly creeping ahead. We watched helpless as the lead slipped out of our fingers and we realised as we rounded round the headland of Dungeness, that we had slipped back into 4^th place. Finland, Australia and Cape Breton were now in front but only by 3 miles and with about 180 still to go all was not lost.

With every tenth of a mile counting I positioned myself in the nav station keping an eye on all the other yachts checking on their course and speed. I soon spotted that the yachts in front all slowed considerably – they must have hit a wind hole. We immediately changed course to try and avoid the area of light wind and start to regain the lost distance between us. It appeared to work for a while but we still got caught in some of the same area and most of the ground we made up we lost again as we slowed and the other boats sailed out the other side and into more wind. Still we had made back some of the distance and at this stage every little counted. I eventually forced myself to bed for an hour and half before the start of our next watch. It was hard to sleep now but with another 18 hours or so of racing still to go, we'd need to be on the ball for every minute of our on-watch time.

Race 13 - Day 2, Sat 10th July

Wed, 14 Jul 2010 23:17:42 +0100

Our first night watch last night (11pm – 3 am) was pretty cool. We woke up to find we were ahead of the fleet – just. Actually 'woke up' is untrue as no sleep was had whatsoever. The boat was so heeled over it was hard to haul my bunk up high enough to stop me falling out of it. So I was mainly lying on my lee-cloth and the metal frame at the edge of my bunk. Add to that the frequent bouncing bomb effect – with Umba as the member of the fictional 633 Squadron every time she took off over a wave, leaving me to be the bouncing bomb in my bunk and the conditions were not exactly condusive for sleep. The 2 elements to add to the orchestration were the constant rattling and rapping of the spinnaker pole and jackstay, vibrating against each other on the deck directly overhead and the gushing waterfall effect that came pouring through the closed hatch every time a wave engulfed the foredeck – which I after half an hour I calculated to be an average of every 45 seconds! I was lucky enough to be on the high side so while climbing into my bunk was a major mountaineering move, the gallons of seawater intent on hitching a left with us was at least drenching some poor other person! At least everyone's protective shower curtains were already in place – an essential piece of round the world kit which funnily enough hadn't been on our list of 'must buys' from Clipper!

So having not slept at all it was great to be on deck back in the thick of it...oh and still in the lead! Not by much though. We could see 3 or 4 green starboard mast-head lights behind us...but not by much. The night was dark and cloudy so no star-gazing – yet again. My first job was to try and stuff an tea towel under the aforementioned spinnaker pole to stop it shaking someone else's brains. The plan was a good one. However after 3 complete dunkings under water - one of which I nearly had to swim out of, I think I may have managed to stop one vibration but hadn't ceased the loud rapping that I was sure was coming from the jackstay but couldn't figure out why or where! It was fun trying though and I couldn't help giggling at how ridiculous my struggle had been or how wet I was just to try and stop and irritating noise!

The winds picked up again during watch and we were soon putting a reef in the mainsail, all the while keeping a beady eye on our nearest rivals to make sure they weren't closing in on us. The helming was great fun, not too challenging but needing 100 % concentration nonetheless to keep our course and speed accurate. With the fleet so close together now and therefore in the same wind and weather conditions, unless we were under a different sail plan it was all about good, fast accurate helming and spotting any changes in wind direction or speed quickly.

The watch flew by – I was sent to bed slightly early as I'm on motherwatch tomorrow,. It was weird to think that by the time I was next up we would almost certainly be back at Lands End and well and truly back in British waters. We really were nearly home!

Well what a difference a day makes! Or in our case, a few hours. Sure enough by the time I awoke – this time from a very deep sleep, land was very much ahoy, the sea had calmed and the boat was less bouncy castle and more gently rocking hammock. We watched with mixed emotions as we slid past Lands End and Lizard Point. I'd holidayed on the Cornish Coast many, many times as a child so this coastline was all too familiar – although not normally seem from this viewpoint. We really were almost home and I was surprised at how excited I was. We were also surprised to see Qingdao just behind us. They had followed us staying north across the Scilly Isles while the rest of the felt had taken a more southerly route. So here we were still clinging onto the lead and with Qingdao hot on our heels.

Jezza was my co-mother for the first time on this race and now for our last mother-watch of the race! This was the start of our “last of” things to come! The day passed very pleasantly, pottering in the gallery, filming on deck and while not the beautiful scorching weather we'd been hearing about 'back home', it was much clearer, warmer and sunnier that it had been for a few days now.Half way through the afternoon the wind dropped and we peeled form the heavyweight to midweight spinny. I was filming on deck and it became obvious an extra pair of hands was needed so pitched in. Just about everything that could go wrong did, so as the heavyweight spinnaker went for a swim behind the boat and a few of us tried to persuade it back on deck, Qingdao went soaring past us looking very amused at our predicament. Annoying though it was we just had to get on with it, repack the very wet kite and work hard to regain the lost distance to Qingers.

Hors d'oeurvres – of which Jeremy is king, were duly served up as we did our bit to keep up morale with a supper of sausages, mash and beans and onion gravy, followed by vanilla sponge with hot chocolate sauce! By the early evening we'd regained the lead and our self-respect and Jezza and I did a ceremonial passing of the last saucepan to be washed and then dried by us on our last mother-watch of our Round the World journey. It was one element neither of us were too emotional about saying goodbye to!

Race 13 - Cork to Ijmuiden, Day 1 Friday 9th July

Wed, 14 Jul 2010 23:01:43 +0100

It's now just over a week before we'll be sailing home into Hull, having completed this amazing adventure known as the Clipper round the World Yacht Race and there are certainly mixed feelings floating around inside me. Having thought so much over the last month or so about how I want my life to be from here on in nd the changes I want to make I thought I was past the “dreading it all being over” stage and had moved onto the “it's the next exciting chapter of my life stage”. However, all it took was for Albert to flash a packet of smoked salmon at me in the galley this morning saying how we were going ot have a few treats for the last days of our trip, and the emotions overflowed into tears and I had the first sob – of no doubt many to come over the next week! We set off from Cork on a dull, grey, rainy lunchtime. It was that kind of light rain that while not heavy gets you really, really wet through! Despite this there was still a surprisingly large number of spectators lining the banks of the River Lee to wave and beep their car horns at this strange breed of amateur yachtsmen on their ten Ocean Racing Yachts. We waved back enthusiastically as the people from both Cork and Kinsale had made us feel as welcome as any port during our race and their friendliness, interest and kindness was something I won't ever forget.

And so onto race start – our penultimate race start. As we had both Wayne from North One Productions filming with us and Emma for BBC Look North, I felt very able to abstain from filming and so for the first time in ages was actively involved in the start. We spent ages tacking and gybing around the start line in the run up to race start, making sure we were aware exactly where the line was and strength and direction of the wind in relation to it. By the time we heard the gun which meant 4 minutes to go my arms were already screaming at me as I'd been hauling on the yankee sheet like my life depended on it for a good half an hour! We slightly mis-timed our approach to the line – we were too early and had to tack off so we didn't cross it before the start gun was fired. Even with that we crossed the line neck and neck with the leading boats – we could have been fourth or first – it was hard to tell. Within the first hour the wind was picking up and we had to change down from the No1 yankee – the largest of our headsails to the No.2. We did that just before tacking round the first mark just as Australia, Finland and Singapore crossed in front of our bow. We missed Singapore by about 2 metres! Having rounded the mark in fourth place, our gear change on the sails paid off and we were soon ahead of Singapore and drawing level with the other 2 boats. By this time it was watch change-over and supper time and I went to bed exhilerated and buzzing from the start and the fact that even though soaked to the skin from being dunked under waves up on the bow, here we were, back out sailing and racing again – it felt mighty good! I tried to spare a thought for poor Emma who had turned very blue and if puking had been an Olympic sport would have won the Gold medal hands down. I've been very lucky on this trip and have only really been ill once. I love the rhythm of the waves too much for them to make me ill and even though not sleeping, I got huge pleasure from feeling the pitch and roll as Umba dived into troughs and flew off the tops of the waves I just knew she was loving it too!

Race 12 - Day 10, Mon 28th June

Mon, 05 Jul 2010 10:33:17 +0100

We took over again at 3am this morning and within an hour we spotted a white masthead light through the gloom off our port beam. This had to be Qingdao. The fact the the light was white meant we were behind them, but as it gradually became green for longer and longer periods, we knew we were catching them,. WE were now approaching the Fastnet Rock off the coast of Ireland. We had to go between this and the mainland – a gap of only 3miles – so it was inevitable the yachts would funnel together. This was going to be another exciting finish that was down to the wire!

My back was still not right so I became self appointed tea maker and Nav station watcher, calling out distances to the Rock and the mainland. As the angle between us and Qingdao narrowed the 2 yachts got closer and closer. The wind was such that we were struggling to hold our angle with the spinnaker flying but Justin wanted to hold onto it for as long as possible so that we moved ahead of the other boat – who were now only about 20 metres away and alongside us!
Eventually we knew we'd need to drop the spinnaker and hoist the yankee 2 to get the angle to the Rock. I was called on deck as we were short handed. We went for a hoist of the headsail but it wouldn't go up. Something was wrong and we suspected the halyards were twisted. This was critical now – we had to get this right or we'd lose third place. We needed to get the sail down quickly and sort. From there it went from bad to worse. We tried twice unsuccessfully to hosit the sail. There was something very wrong with the halyards up at the top of the mast – which in the darkness and with the light of flashlights, was almost impossible to see. Some of the other watch were roused to come and help. Tom got into a harness and was hoisted half-way up the forestay to try and untwist some of the lines but even that didn't help. Meanwhile Qingdao had crossed to our starboard side and were pulling away from us. The wind had backed which meant we couldn 't hold the angle with the spinnaker up and were still traveling at a rate of knots – but now straight towards the mainland coast! There was nothing for it but to send Tom up to the top of the mast to try and untwist the mess. It was dark, the wind was bouncing the boat around like a rubber ball and the spinnaker was flying erratically around all over the place. These really weren't the conditions for anyone to be going up the mast. We had no choice though and up Tom went, his body being tossed around up there like a rag-doll. Justin was on the helm and we had someone in the nav calling up the distance before we hit land. We were getting perilously. We would have to ditch the spinnaker and go bare-headed or we would run aground. “Get Tom down. NOW!” came the urgent bellow from Justin - “we're gonna hit the bricks”! Tom was hastily descended – much to his surprise and all the while the boat was rounding up fast which meant poor Tom was being bashed and bruised to bits. With the spinnaker down – just in the nick of time (!) we were back on course and the conditions were easier for Tom to give it another go. He was up and had sorted the lines and back down again in a trice, we had the headsail hoisted and were back in the race. We had miles to make up again but we still had just under 50 miles of racetrack to do it in. Clawing back a couple of miles in that distance was very do-able. The heavyweight spinnaker was re-packed and back on deck ready to be re-hoisted.

Meanwhile – after 2 headsail take-downs, tailing a very jammed halyard with all my might, a spinny take-down (where you pull for your life) and a re-pack, my back had thrown in the towel and was telling me in no uncertain terms that I had over-done it. My sleeping bag was fetched into the saloon as I couldn't move anywhere else and there I lay, frustrated, listening to everything going on on above, still in disbelief over the drama we'd had on deck for the last hour and a half and trying to remain positive that we hadn't thrown it away in the last few hours.

The wind eased and the mid-weight was hoisted – shortly after Qingdao hoisted theirs. We would have one gybe to do around a mark just 5 miles from the finish line. I listened as Justin briefed the guys on deck. With only one spinnaker pole we would have to do a 'dip-pole gybe'. Something we'd never done before. It would all rest on this gybe going ok. We'd managed to catch Qingdao and there were literally only meters between us...we had just edged in front.

The pole would have to be raised at the mast end very high so that the other end could swing down and inside the inner forestay without having to take the pole off the mast completely – which would take too much time. In the meantime the down-hauls would be switched from port to starboard and the kite would be flown from the sheets alone – a very tricky thing to do for both the helm and the trimmers on both sheets.

The miles disappeared and the time for the gybe arrived. This had to go well. I listened with frustration from the saloon. The pole was moved, the kite flying from the sheets and the new lines reattached. The call came to throw the pole out over the new side to get it into position. I waited and 10 seconds later the skipper let out a stream of expletives. Then there was a pause and then the call I was waiting for – get the kite down. One mistake had meant that the pole had gone straight through the bottom of the kite, ripping the foot off it completely. The bits were salvaged and the heavyweight immediately hoisted but it cost us third place. Qingdao slipped a half mile ahead and with only 4 miles to run there was no way we could catch them. It was frustrating as I listened to it all from the saloon. The call for the finish line, the immediate drop of the sail (as the line was very close to the harbour entrance) and then the applause and 3 cheers for the Qingdao Clipper that had for the second time in recent races beaten us to the third podium position. This was also our last big ocean crossing and I was bitterly disappointed not to be involved at the very end of it.

Almost as distressing, was that I could hear the beer being handed out on deck among the finish celebrations and the team photo being taken. It was horrible not being in the thick of it all with the others.

Pretty soon it was agreed that I should go to hospital to get my back checked out. I was helped up to the local Kinsale Yacht club where a car was organised with super efficiency to take me to the University hospital in Cork, before I'd even had time to contemplate scaling the steps up to the free flowing beer and Irish breakfast that everyone else was already tucking into. Sometimes life sucks, I thought. But then had to quickly remind myself that I was very close to having just spent 10 months sailing round the world. I really didn't have too much to complain about!

Race 12 - Day 9, Sun 27th June

Mon, 05 Jul 2010 10:30:11 +0100

The 3am – 7am watch was pretty eventful. The winds are easing and initially the sea state still confused but undoubtedly easier to handle than yesterday's evening watch. Even though we have been putting the clocks forward an hour each day for the last 2 days, to bring ourselves in line with BST, it is still light at 3am. The full moon is still up but is soon overshadowed by the sun who warms our spirits as it bathes us in the glow of a beautiful amber morning.

We finally make a move to shake the final reef out of the main as we need to move faster if we mean business. However mid way through setting up for this, we head-up and the starboard pole makes a strange 'Twang'. It bent, under the force, at a 90 degree angle. That's NOT supposed to happen!

It takes us a good half an hour to gybe the headsail, get the damaged pole down and made safe before rigging the other pole and re-gybing the headsail back in place. Then we finally get to shake out the reef – the job we'd started initially. By this time we are all desperate to strip off several layers of clothes – a result of hard work and the sun doing it's job well!

Even with the reef out we start to feel that we should be going faster and are chomping at the bit to put the heavyweight spinnaker up but we all know the sea is still a little too lumpy and it would probably collapse in the troughs of the waves, more than it would fly at the moment. We just need to sit and wait for the sea to settle for an hour or so.

Eventually just before end of watch (as is quite often the case when you're most looking forward to your bunk) Justin arrives and declares us ready for the kite hoist! We get it flying and I then realise that he must have got the latest schedules in. The other boats are out of stealth mode and Qingdao have overtaken us by 3 miles! We really DO need to put the foot to the floor if we are to hang on to 3rd/4^th place (dependent on Cork's position). We'd like to do better but realistically a third place is the best we can hope for now. Still – we have a first and second place pennant to fly so perhaps it's only right that we should get the full set!

By the time we take over at 7pm Qingdao are now 5 miles in front of us and we really need to start pushing. We are confident that they won't have the angle to fly their spinnaker though, so we are hoping by the time the next sched comes in we'll see the benefit of an extra half knot an hour that we should be getting. The night is once again dark, with stormy clouds around and we watch nervously as black clouds threaten rain and potentially big winds shifts that could mean we have to do a swift drop of the kite. We prepare all the lines in readiness and even change into full foulies so we don't get drenched but most of it passes in front of us and we hold onto the kite.

Towards the end of our watch I start to gets pains down my left leg while holding onto the spinnaker sheet and no matter which position I shuffle into I can't find one that is comfortable. Frustrated I have to relinquish charge of the sail trim and sit out the last hour, desperately trying to stretch out my spine, hoping that whatever might have nudged out of place will click back in quickly. As we go off watch I hope that despite the roll on the boat a few hours flat on my back in my bunk will do the trick.

Race 12 - Day 8, Sat 26th June

Mon, 05 Jul 2010 10:27:29 +0100

Last night was the first time I've seen the moon and stars since leaving Cape Breton. It was however only a fleeting view of a few minutes before the clouds rolled over and spoiled my chance to brush up on my constellations. The sea is still pretty wild and the helming fairly challenging – even though the wind has eased considerably, the sea state is still pretty big and confused and we now don't have enough power in the sails to drive through it. After much debate we finally change from the yankee 3 up to the yankee 2 – which gives us more pace and drive and ultimately better speeds.

Team Finland continue to put distance between us and them – a few miles each sched and it is now looking unlikely that we'll catch them. We take a few miles from Cork one sched and then they put on another back, the next. It's hard to know just how much gap we need to have closed on them, to be in front of them by the time their handi-cap is retro-applied. So we have no idea if we are in second or third place at the moment. Jamaica, Qingdao and California are all in stealth mode so we have a nervous 24 hours to see if any of them manage to make grounds on us. All the while we are pushing as much as we can with the conditions that we have.

The sun comes out to brighten the morning and stays intermittently with us, lifting the mood considerably. Double choc chip cookies made by Tom and Charlie on mother-watch, also help to lift the mood – I declare them to be almost as nice as the final bar of Fruit & Nut that we share – to celebrate the fact that we have less than 500 miles to go to the finish. I thought I was paying Tom a compliment on his cookie baking, but he seemed rather insulted that I still prefer a “mass-produced, machine made” treat rather than something that had been individually hand-crafted by him on the boat. There really is no pleasing some people!!!!

It now looks like we'll be in on Monday sometime – which will make it an 11 day crossing from Cape Breton – much faster than the 14 days Clipper had originally estimated. Everyone is busy trying to book hotel rooms in an already fully booked Kinsale and inbetween sailing we are calculating how much work there is to do on Umba and how much free time we might have to sample what Ireland has to offer!

Early evening and the winds pick back up to gusting 40 knots again. We hang on to the same sail plan but the helming is physically tough and I bow out letting Brett do our hour sessions entirely. He's stronger and better at keeping Umba on a straight track when it's tough like this and we need to maximize every second and every knot now if we are to try and chase down the leaders and fight for third - or fourth place.

Race 12 - Day 7, Fri June 25th

Sat, 26 Jun 2010 08:33:12 +0100

Race 12 - Day 7, Fri June 25th

3am arrived and I have to admit to being slightly relieved when I heard I wouldn't be needed on deck. We reverted back to our Pacific crewing of just 2 on deck at any one time with a third person on “step-watch” just inside the companionway to act as comms between on-deck and off-deck crew. I used the time in between to finish the edit of our weekly video and to check our position against the other boats. It was clear early on that having gained miles, since we'd reduced our sail area we were now losing out to some of the other boats. Over the course of the night Team Finland had overtaken us and Jamaica had increased their lead over us. This was not good as both these are teams we need to beat and by several places if we are to try and improve out standings in the overall race.

The wind eases off slightly during the day and the Yankee 3 makes it's first appearance on deck for quite some time as we get some more sail up. We are not doing the speeds of 24 hours ago and in the more moderate winds we are wallowing at the mercy of the still huge waves.

By the time we come onto watch this afternoon we are chomping at the bit to get some more sail area up but within half an hour the wind increases from 20 knots to 35 knots and we start trucking again. The drama of the night before takes a little of the fight out of some of the crew and we know we have to work hard to get back into the race mode again.

The scheds this evening show that Jamaica have increased their lead slightly over us to 27 miles and Team Finland are now in front of us by 25 miles. We have just under 600 miles of the race to run so a good chance of reeling them back in again and as we know ourselves only too well – a high pressure can always sneak in and throw a googly that could turn the race results completely on their head. It's all still to play for – we just have to keeping play hard!!!

Race 12 - Day 6, Thurs June 24th

Sat, 26 Jun 2010 08:32:53 +0100

Race 12 - Day 6, Thurs June 24th

This morning we had a little respite. We must have had a total of about an hour and a half of sunshine spread out in sections across our 6 hour watch, It wasn't much but it was enough to remind us why we love this. Just a small amount of sunshine turns a completely miserable watch into the best place on earth to be. It's amazing the difference it makes and it put us all in a better mood. The early scheds also showed that we were the fastest boat in the fleet overnight and have taken miles out of every other Clipper. Admittedly only one or two in some cases but it was a gain nonetheless and to be celebrated – which we did with another bar of Sponsor Fruit & Nut – as we had now tipped over the less than 1,000 miles to go landmark.

All day we've been getting great speeds – we wound Brett up that the girls had beaten his record but in actual fact we were still a good knot under it. Not for long however. Our first night watch – which really isn't night watch anymore as it stays light ‘til almost 11pm saw the wind and waves continue to build. It was very reminiscent of the conditions we faced in the Pacific and we split the watch in half so we did an hour on and an hour off below deck to have some respite from the challenges of the night. I stepped up to the helm with a little trepidation. It wasn't long before I was in the swing of it getting great speed off the surf – and then before the end of my session, one massive surf that seemed to go on forever and topped out at 20.4 knots. What an adrenaline ride that was! We hadn't been below deck for long when it became obvious the boat was becoming overpowered. We crash gybed a couple of times – a sure sign we were overpowered. We were swiftly summoned back on deck to drop the headsail – easier said than done in winds of 40 plus knots – and banged a second reef in the main. We'd barely drawn breath from that when a massive wave engulfed the boat. I grabbed a hold of the boat with one hand and the back of Raeann's lifejacket with the other as the wave picked her up. We were both clipped on with safety lines but it's still easy to pick up an injury if you are swept any distance. As our skipper Justin found out. We nearly had a repeat performance of the Piers accident as Justin was swept past the helm station and against the emergency tiller at the stern of the boat. Brett who was on the helm at the time having realised Skip had been picked up by the wave, said he had a horrid sense of deja vu when he asked Justin if he was ok and he replied “ I think I might have broken my hand”!!! Luckily it's just badly bruised. Raeann and I made a nasty exit from the snakepit, which was now full of water and doing a very good impression of a jacuzzi! We were all glad to go to bed at end of watch although none of us were relishing the though of getting up for watch again at 3am!!!