Publicerad: 26.12.2019
After shower and breakfast, we set sail. Nice wind and some waves push us past the next island and to the south of Gran Canaria.
The 4-hour rhythm is quite good, Simon and I have a watch every day at 04:00 and 16:00. More steering is done under sail, as the autopilot consumes power, so we are all diligently practicing steering and are busy. No one has been seasick so far, but Nina and I can already feel it. I'm sleeping in my bunk the other way around now, with my head towards the bow (front of the boat). So I'm lying with my head at Nina's feet, but no longer in the entrance.
After saying goodbye several times on the phone to all loved ones at home for the next few weeks, we unexpectedly have a very long island reception. That's also nice and I can download some music, but it's also strange because saying goodbye is even harder.
Second day at sea. Very convenient that we set off exactly on the 1st of the month. And also on the 1st Advent. But there is no Christmas atmosphere, although Nina has made an Advent calendar out of 2 packs of chocolates.
When the wind east of Gran Canaria died down, unrest set in. Something is wrong with the new diesel filter, it's leaking a bit. It was tightened a little at night, but during the day we wanted to do it better. We should have left it alone. The second attempt broke the sight glass of the water separator. Since the wind hardly generated any speed, the waves rocked us more and more and the sail fluttered dangerously. The engine can be accessed from the companionway (stairs between the deck and the salon) as well as from the two aft cabins (the rear ones). But everything is incredibly tight and cumbersome. Fortunately, Birgit still has the old diesel filter with her, which is also slightly leaky. This was then installed with loud cursing, unintentionally causing an all-hands-on-deck maneuver. Everyone was awake, tense, and the mood was on the verge of breaking.
After the part was installed and the engine was running, I turned on loud sing-along music and the situation relaxed again. A school of dolphins visiting us rounded off the moment.
Since yesterday, we have been rocking even more. No one can sleep properly anymore, they are trying out the most exciting lying positions. So we are all a bit exhausted and not doing much except steering and lying around.
A proper meal is always a highlight, as no one feels like cooking and washing dishes down in the rocking kitchen. Usually, vegetables and fruits are cut upstairs and then someone ventures into the kitchen, with the constant fear of being hit by a hot pot. The stove is swing-mounted, so it can move with the motion of the waves to some extent, but that also has its limits. Yesterday the coffee ended up on the floor.
Occasionally, it drizzles briefly, but it hasn't rained properly yet. One thing that bothers me is going to bed with dirty feet. We are barefoot 80% of the time here because it is practical and safe. Only at night do we wear shoes, but they often get wet from waves splashing in. Wet socks rinsed with saltwater hardly dry again because salt attracts moisture. But washing feet in the mini bathroom and under water scarcity is also not an option. Maybe I will come up with something.
Since yesterday evening, I have been somehow annoyed. Actually, everyone is slightly irritated. We are still being rocked steadily and don't get the sleep we need. Birgit is now sleeping on the floor in the salon, wedging herself between the bed and the table. Everyone tries to steer as calmly as possible, but it takes a lot of experience and practice. We knew that we would get into this crossfire again, but that doesn't make it any better. For exactly these times, I brought some nice movies on my phone and today I withdrew a bit. It was also nice.
At some points, we can sail quite fast with strong winds, but it was too cold for me to shower. I was looking forward to it. But a thorough scrubbing with a washcloth had to suffice.
Just in time for dinner together, the weather gave us a break. The wind became calm, the sky cleared up, and we were able to surf on a long, straight wave. Although we had to turn on the engine again, secretly everyone was happy about it.
After several hours of rest, the wind and waves gave it their all again today. We only have a small part of the foresail out, and we're still speeding along at 6-7 knots.
Steering is exhausting, everything else too. But we take it with humor. My pen is acting up because I'm writing while lying down. With a heel angle of about 30°, which constantly changes sides, you try to find a reasonably comfortable lying position downstairs as quickly as possible. We also had a short rain shower. The waves seem to be at least 10 meters high, but according to Birgit, they are only 2-3 meters.
Yesterday, we tried to do some "exercise" on deck since our bodies are stiff, but everything is about 10 times more strenuous on the boat. So now I'm lying in the front of my bunk, letting myself be rocked properly and listening to the water rushing loudly right next to my head.
I found the salvation: earplugs! Actually, I knew it all along, that's why I got silicone earplugs that can be pressed into the entire ear in anticipation of the trip. Normal earplugs don't fit into my tiny ear canals. But since I really don't like having anything in my ears, I avoided using them until now, completely sleep-deprived. So this morning, I finally gave them a chance, and lo and behold, despite the wild rocking, I slept for about 3 hours. So it really helps a lot to block out the noise for a while. The mood is better again, but the wind and weather are still intense, so cooking and showering wouldn't be fun yet.
In the afternoon, Birgit finally motivates me to take a shower. We pour saltwater over ourselves with a bucket while sitting on the aft platform. It felt good, and the water was relatively warm. Then you shampoo vigorously, rinse again with saltwater, and finally, you can rinse everything with as little fresh water as possible. In the meantime, we are tied around the waist with a bowline knot so as not to get lost if we fall in.
Birgit always says that it will get better soon. The wind will come from behind, the waves will be long and calm, and the temperatures will rise. Apparently, it will be like this in 1-2 days. I'm curious if her prophecies will eventually come true.
The night was tough, and the day is too. Yesterday's salvation was a bit premature and euphoric. The earplugs do help, but I'm currently constantly changing sleeping places because it's hard to lie down anywhere stable.
We forced ourselves to cook, which was delicious but also dangerous. Simon got a bruise, stew was spread all over half of the kitchen, and I had to briefly lean on the burning stove. Luckily, nothing serious happened. Cleaning up something underwater while everything you put down - including yourself - flies away is not fun.
I am sure that better times will come, but everyone is soon at their breaking point. And even though I am very grateful for the experience, I have already decided internally to fly back home and am actually really looking forward to it. Not because it's so terrible here, but because I have always loved flying and after this alternative test, flying ranks much better in my mind again. A crossing like this is associated with a lot of time, money, effort, nerves, and dangers, and all of this should also be taken into account. Not just the CO2 emissions. I can adjust my travel destinations accordingly and proclaim flying to be something very special again. Mindful flying, as my mom would say.
Oh yeah, I know I'm repeating myself, but my feet are wet, cold, and dirty. I haven't found a solution yet.
Simon's realization of the day: 'Only when the soul is at peace can the body also find peace.' We're not there yet.