Jonathan Crinion Ocean Racing

Position: 29,25.42N , 18,50.95W
Speed: 5 knots, Course: 61 deg.
UTC Time: 12. August 2006 16:18
Solar panels producing 4.5 amps


On a boat you listen for noises. A flapping sail needs attention, something clinking needs tightening. After a while you learn all the sounds and can sleep well, but last night I could hear strange rattling above my bunk.

I looked out the window to see the base of the inner shroud (holds up the mast) flapping loosely behind the sail. Looking up the mast I could see that all the inner shrouds were quite loose which means that the whole mast was unsupported and could fall over or break if we got a sudden wind shift.

We quickly dropped all the sails to take the pressure off the mast and that's when we discovered that we were low on fuel as well. La Palma was visible to our East under a full moon, but the idea of pulling into a port was scuppered when we realised we had no detailed charts of the Canary Islands.

A glance at the sailing instructions for La Palma warned us to stay off shore 1.5 miles to avoid a rocky coast and the only port also warned of unmarked rocks around the entrance. The ideas of finding refuge in a port was not an option in the darkness at 3 in the morning.

With not enough fuel to get us to Madeira, which is still three days away, the only option was to motor slowly with what little fuel we had left, to stop the boat from crashing in the waves. In the morning it was time to go up the mast and tighten the rig. Its hard enough going up a very tall mast at dock side but in a swell the mast can swing from side to side a few meters and it is amplified as you go higher.

With my climbing harness on, wrenches tied on and a strop to lash around a shroud to stop me from flying off into space, I headed up. The lower spreaders were not so bad and I managed to tighten the inner shrouds as I flailed around. The problem being you need one hand to hold the small wrench and the other hand to hold the big wrench which left my feet to hang on with.

The top spreaders were almost impossible as the boat was swaying from side to side and I was being tossed around like a bat-a-ball. I could barely hold on, let alone hold the two wrenches to tighten the turnbuckle.

I had just looped the safety strop around the spreader when the boat lurched forward, I swung out and then the boat lurched back again and the spreader hit me hard in the lower rib. A bit like someone hitting you with a base ball bat. Every breath felt like a knife in my rib.

Back on deck the rig looked solid and we hoisted the main sail and then the genoa. It looked good, so we're back in business. I'm taking it easy today, I've had a cracked rib before, so I know what it feels like, and this is what it felt like. It's a bit hard grinding winches but I'll be ok.

It's a beautiful day, flat water, only ten knots of wind but at a constant speed and the boat is quietly and effortlessly skimming along. We've lost a whole night of sailing in the process but have averted a potential major disaster. We have a spare can of fuel for an absolute emergency but it's come all the way from Cape Town and I'm determined not to use it just yet.

All the best
Jonathan