16 June 2011
Apparently, it was my fault the main halyard block sheared as I was on watch at the time! Well, that was the reason Mark gave me for me going up the mast rather than him. Actually, mast monkey has become a bit of a Cath specialty, but I popped my going-up-the-mast-whilst-at-sea cherry today and I've got the thigh bruises to prove it! We motored pretty much through til 2pm today when the seas/winds got slightly calmer (16knots) Then, donning Lochy's bike helmet, pillow down front/cushion down back of sallopettes, Mark winched me up the mast. The idea was that I would use a safety harness around the mast to keep me from swinging too far away, which worked well, except I had to unclip and clip back on to get past the spreaders and that was really hard. Then up to the top, using my thighs to grip the mast (thank God for my pole dancing lessons back in Jersey!) untie and re-tie a one handed bowline, threading it through a new block. It was like riding a bucking broncho up there and I was wishing at that point that I hadn't left my climbing harness at home; it would have been far superior to the bosun's chair I was in. Holding on to the mast was taking all my effort and I was knackered; my muscles getting tired. When I had to unclip to get past the spreaders on the way back down again. My hands were so tired, I didn't clip back onto the mast, which was the point at which my body and the mast parted company and I went for a bit of a swing. With a shout of "just get me down quick" I was lying on the trampoline in a jiffy, not scared just absolutely. Physically. Exhausted. My muscles are all aching now but the sail is back up and Mark and I feel proud of our joint effort. This trip has made us realise that we do actually make a good team.