We were in podium position for a long time, even first for a while. Then we
we dropped to eighth. Now, I think we're fifth, with ambitions on fourth.
How did all this happen so fast?
First, I think positions were always pretty close, though there was a while
when we thought we were way ahead of the trailing part of the pack. But the
real problem has been the current. I think I mentioned a 5 knot current we
were fighting a few days back, but that we were getting out of it. Well,
that never happened. We kept fighting the current and kept losing ground.
We had more wind than the inshore boats and better water speed, but it
didn't net out for us. Matt says he's been giving it a lot of thought, and
I'm sure he has. One particular gybe, we were headed inshore but actually
moving away from destination, and he decided to come back out. If we had
carried on, we probably would have rejoined the pack in good position.
Matt says the current wasn't where it was indicated on the charts, or maybe
that it was wider, but that doesn't seem to have caught the others. I think
he's a bit sensitive to the fact that several tactical decisions haven't
gone our way. At our team meeting yesterday, he took us through the routing
options for the final stretch to Airlie Beach and explained his selection.
He offered to take anyone interested through the details of the current,
tides, etc. that informed his decision, but nobody took him up on it. I
might ask for that later, not to second guess, but just to understand more.
At the time though, I was just interested in getting some sleep.
I hadn't slept well for a few off-watches. I've mentioned the heat and the
cramped bunk. I've also been on the high side for most of this race, so
there's the added paranoia about falling out. (You might remember that in
the first race, I was on the low side and had a constant drip onto my bunk,
so....) However, I don't think I've mentioned the noises this boat makes.
I had always thought of sailing as being peaceful. No engine, just the
sound of the wind and the water. Not the case. The loads in the lines are
immense, so every time something moves, there are loud creaks and groans.
The winches we use to handle these lines make a might racket. Jammers
sometimes need to be hammered in to make sure they catch. A lot of this
gear is right over my bunk. And for sounds coming from anywhere else, the
hull of the boat is like a big fibreglass drum, resonating with everything,
transmitting and amplifying it.
Two night ago, I finally gave up and tried to sleep on deck for a few
hours, but couldn't find anyplace that would stay dry. But yesterday, I
figured it out. The sail locker! The hatch was open, but it was shady
below, so the temperature was perfect. It was a long way from the noisy
hardware, and the white noise of the bow cutting through the water drowned
out more other sounds. And I could sprawl out on top of a bagged Code 2
without having to worry about falling anywhere. Best four hours of sleep
I'd had since Sydney! I almost didn't want to tell anyone about it, but I
felt too revived not to share. Headed there again now. Hope it's free.
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