Transatlantic Part 2

Sunday, 08.12.2019

Sometimes you think it's finally less bumpy. The waves are still quite big (actually alarming), but they seem to be somewhat more sorted now. And then it suddenly gets wild again. I was just in the process of checking the storage crates for bad fruit, squeezed between the table and the bed. Every item is touched and inspected, but so far we have had to throw away very little. Suddenly a big wave sloshed on deck from the side and mostly straight down the companionway (boat entrance) into the galley. Birgit stayed cool at the helm (so it wasn't a steering error from us beginners). Nina and I cleaned up down below. Simon had his window open and was woken up by a splash. The most important thing in such cases is to remove as much saltwater as possible, as salt constantly attracts moisture. Not an easy task with limited fresh water.

Afterwards, I embarked on a cooking odyssey at about 20° heel (boat tilt). I made eggplant-coconut curry with rice.

Monday, 09.12.2019

Note to self: Do not buy coconut milk in Lanzarote. Unfortunately, my cooking efforts yesterday were not very profitable. It tasted pretty good, but the coconut milk was probably bad. It was already difficult to find some. Apparently, it is not a common product in the Canary Islands. Anyway, a few of us didn't feel so well afterwards.

In our morning shift, Simon and I cracked the remaining 1,999nm (nautical miles) distance (as the crow flies). So we have completed about 1/3 of the way from Lanzarote. Feels good, even though it should have been nicer and warmer long ago. Last night, we also received a weather forecast saying that it is supposed to get worse instead of better. But we are reasonably optimistic and try to keep each other in a good mood.

We make a logbook entry every 2 hours with the time, coordinates, air pressure, cloud coverage, temperature, distance travelled, sail position, course, and comment. We mainly need to continue heading west and just a little bit south. Normally, on the Barefoot route, you are supposed to sail south until the butter melts and then continue west. But we are still far from that.

Later on, the day turned out to be quite nice. We were all awake most of the day, cooking together, practicing steering, and listening to music. The sun even came out at 23°C and almost everyone went for a swim. During our evening watch, the others crawled into bed tired. Having a bit of rhythm and normality feels good and makes me miss my family and friends even more.

Tuesday, 10.12.2019

Last night, I couldn't sleep, but the morning watch was eventful. First, a wave splashed onto the deck from behind and soaked me from head to toe at the helm, then a flying fish smacked me on the shoulder. It stinks. Also, I stepped in dog pee again because the dog toilet is not working well at the moment. Luna is supposed to do her business on the foredeck, but it's still too bumpy for that.

Birgit - our captain and alpha female - said this morning that she doesn't want to continue anymore, she's had enough of this **** rocking, it has never been like this before, and she wants to go home. Those were her words after she spilled her breakfast on the floor again because of the waves.

After a 3-hour power nap in the morning, I was fit for the rest of the day and it became sunny and slightly warmer. But the situation remains tense and the waves are diagonal and strong. It's almost impossible to sleep without earplugs, and Nina and I find it difficult to share the cabin as we keep rolling onto each other. The boat is mainly tilted to one side. I have tried almost every possible sleeping spot on the boat, but with the creaking, squeaking, rattling, and shaking, there is no good quiet place. The best place is outside, but there is too much risk of getting wet.

Wednesday, 11.12.2019

Today, I am proud of myself. Although I still sometimes feel like we are going to sink our little nutshell in the vast ocean, they say my driving style is the most relaxed. I was able to give Nina some tips on steering, and even Simon learned some things from me, even though he taught me how to steer only a few days ago. This morning, I was also at the helm when we shifted the sail from one side to the other.

There are three principles for steering:

1. Drive conservatively. No slapping sails, not too much pressure on the rudder, minimum use of autopilot.

2. Drive calmly. Try to avoid rocking, jerking, and swinging of the boat as much as possible in order to maintain the crew's sanity and enable somewhat restful sleep.

3. Steer according to course. We do want to arrive at some point. The order may vary.

When Birgit used to say at the beginning, "You can feel it," we beginner sailors would only roll our eyes and had to acquire this feeling ourselves. But now, you can actually feel the wind direction on your ear and cheek. My surfing and horse riding knowledge helps me a lot in feeling the direction and strength of the waves from behind. And when you steer with your fingertips, you can also feel the current at the rudder. So, it's going well and even becomes really enjoyable at times.

In the morning, it briefly looked like the waves were calming down, only to get even stronger throughout the day. After a short night, sleep is once again out of the question.

Simon and Birgit have been trying to catch a fish for weeks. Today, they had success for the first time. The last few fish jumped back into the water right in front of the boat. The whole crew was on deck, more or less involved. I have mixed feelings about it. I actually think it's cruel and unnecessary, but I still cheered and helped. What surprised and disappointed me was that the fish (a 50cm dorado) was not swiftly killed, but had to suffocate upside down. Birgit has the most fishing experience and said this is the simplest and quickest method, and there is no such thing as a humane way to kill a fish anyway. Nina cried. So, should I be happy or sad? Could I have changed something? Can I do something differently next time?

Thursday, 12.12.2019

Last night, I helped myself with a sleeping pill because I was soon running out of energy and motivation. The morning shift was tough because of that, but it helped.

Today was laundry day again. This time, I washed my whole body (without hair) and almost all of my underwear with about 0.75L of fresh water. We are definitely learning a lot here about conserving water, which is hardly a topic at home. It sheds a whole new light on all the countries where there is a permanent water shortage.

It was mostly sunny and warm, and the waves are now longer and more sorted. However, they are also higher and stronger. Currently, we are only sailing with the headsail on a broad reach, which means the wind is mainly coming from behind. But since we still roll quite a bit on the waves and don't want the sail to flutter, we always sail with a slightly angled wind and therefore also slightly angled to the waves. It would be more comfortable to have the wind directly from behind so that the waves pass straight from behind to the front under us. Our boat, the Azzurra, has a second boom for this purpose, which can keep the headsail sheeted to one side. But this hasn't been tested with Birgit's new headsail yet, so today we were tinkering and trying things out at the front. We haven't managed to attach the boom to the sail yet, but we'll try again tomorrow.

I'm currently in the evening watch and enjoying the view of the moon and how it illuminates the waves. Yesterday or last night was the full moon. The sea has relatively calmed down, and on some courses, we occasionally feel like we're floating. The wind feels less strong because the actual wind from behind and the apparent wind from the front cancel each other out to some extent. And today it's even calmer than usual because the wind generator has started to act up recently. Very idyllic.

Friday, 13.12.2019

The start of the day was very nice. During my morning watch, I did senior gymnastics for an hour at sunrise to mobilize and stretch a bit. Then I had some muesli, and the laundry was folded. After that, I did the dishes, and all of this while the boat was completely calm since everyone else was still asleep. This is not at all a given here, and this sense of normality felt wonderful. When I told Simon about it, he just said, "And she can cook too, finally the perfect woman. Will you marry me?" (Of course, that was just a joke, we are both in happy relationships.) It's funny how I can only enjoy such things when I've spent weeks on an extreme trip across an ocean.

Today is officially halfway, which means we have completed about half of the distance from the Canary Islands. Birgit baked a bread, and in the evening, we had a snack together, toasted with Aperol Spritz and juice spritzers. Unfortunately, the mood was rather subdued. The sky was overcast all day, and I think everyone had imagined something different halfway through. It's still very challenging, and there is hardly any time to relax, reflect, or enjoy the ocean.