Barb's Turn
05 November 2009
• Newport, RI
by Barb
Wow - I can only say that I was scared, beyond belief, for 80% of the trip that we just endured and I was very glad to have Ron on board with us. I had taken the Stugeron (Cinnarizine 15 mg) throughout the trip that was donated by Heather and Alan Uren and that was all that made the passage tolerable. I was not able to vomit and only nauseous when transitioning from a prone position to being upright. It was quite a different experience from the wobble-headed-ness that I experienced last year with Bonamine. We will have to order some Stugeron - Alan bought it over the Internet prior to leaving Canada. By the way, you cannot buy the TransDerm patches here in the USA either - those are available as OTC meds at home.
We learned a lot of lessons on this aborted passage to Bermuda - Mike has already written about those. For my part I had arranged the salon and galley much like we would have for an offshore passage at home - can you spell STUPID? We think we have found all of the apples and potatoes that flew around and Perry has now consumed the oatmeal cookies that launched themselves out of a tin with a tight-fitting lid. In retrospect I should have made up more sandwiches than the ones we ate on the way out of Newport Harbour. When any of us actually felt like eating it would have been a quick fix. I should also have hauled the vacuum flasks out from under the galley sink and made up a lot of tea and soup - duh, what was I thinking? I had roasted a chicken and sliced it the day before departure and was able to make some pseudo-homemade chicken soup twice, once with pasta and Knorr bouillon and the second time with potatoes, carrots and celery. Most of the time it was just too bouncy in the galley to do too much of anything.
We had water come inboard a number of times. Ron was on watch when we had a greenie over the side and had more than ankle-deep water in the cockpit until it drained out. We also had spray come into the salon a few times. We had water enter all of the low-profile solar powered ventilators when it washed over the decks - onto our bunk and into the vee-berth. Our bunk mattress had a sheet covering it so it is not too much the worse for wear. I had not taken the plastic off the new vee-berth mattress pieces, thank heavens, but some items that were directly under the ventilators were soaked and need to be laundered - a rolled up floor mat, two pillows and a spare sleeping bag. The lovely new upholstery in the salon came through unscathed with not even any salt stains and believe me there was no shortage of water in the cabin with the spray coming in the companionway and also with the three of us coming below in our dripping foulies. Surprisingly we had no water leakage into either of the hanging lockers - the locker in our cabin has been a problem in the past so it seems that the Creeping Crack Cure goopus that Mike has been dribbling into the suspect places has done its job. I was relieved to see that the clips fastening the cockpit splash cloths to the lifelines do actually come undone when smacked with a wave - all we have to do is refasten them. It is better than having the wave take out the cloths and the lifelines as well.
As I said above I was scared for most of the trip - I stood almost all of my watches but Mike did keep me company for some when the conditions were horrific. I was lucky that during two of my watches the conditions were quite benign with the wind never going above 15 knots; the guys were not as fortunate. The failure of the various pieces of rigging was sobering to say the least. I was below when that last front passed through and the noise of the wind generator was deafening. I was on my feet in a shot and poked my head out of the companionway to witness Mike struggling with the main sheet trying to get it under control. The piece of gear fastening the main sheet to the traveller failed once before on our first Halifax to St Pierre race and I felt that it was superior once he had it re-jigged - well we did have a lot of good sailing with it before this failure but I guess it's time was up. The main sail reefing then got stuck in the wind generator and things went from bad to worse. I was up on deck doing what I could to help and by then Ron was on deck as well. Ron hung on to Mike while Mike stretched up to slice the reefing line before the wind generator mast bent, or worse, pulled out of the deck. In the midst of this I did recall how substantial the backing plate was for the wind generator mast but I still had visions of the whole shebang pulling out. Did I mention that it was pitch dark, the wind was howling and we were being tossed about - nasty, nasty. I have a vague recollection of at one point rhyming off in my head the name of every deity I could remember, maybe even made up a few of my own, trying to cover all of the bases in begging for the wind and waves to lay down.
My absolute "favourite" is using the head when you are underway in these harsh conditions. Imagine being in a telephone booth-sized room that some giant creature has firmly clasped in its hand and is shaking it up, down and sideways, and every direction in between but never in a rhythm that you can get the hang of. Then, add to that the challenge of getting your foul weather gear off and yank down about four layers of warm underpinnings, do your business, and then reverse the process. This experience is responsible for a lot of the bumps and bruises that I am now sporting.
I do have two funny tales from in the middle of all of the drama. The first is an Al the cat story. In rough weather he is the luckiest of the crew in that his centre of gravity is closest to the ground. I watched him one evening thump down from his nest on our bunk. He worked his way slowly out to the salon with claws deployed and his legs splayed out to the sides making him even closer to the floor. He was able to figure out the best side of the cabin to travel on based on the heeling of the boat and made his way hugging the wall over to the stairs going down to the middle cabin; I figured he was making for his litter box in the vee-berth. Earlier in the day a dish of his cat kibble went flying and deposited bits of dry food everywhere. I noticed that Al stopped on the stair and was carefully eating the bits of food that were lining the edge of the stair. Remember that the boat was bouncing and shaking all of this time but Al was not to be distracted from any opportunity for a snack! The second is about Perry and me. I was sacked out on the bunk in our cabin, fully decked out in my foulies and boots for a bit of a rest and to reassure Perry. We were, without warning, whacked by a wave on our port side and I was airborne for long enough to move to the side by 10 inches or so - I thumped down on the floor of our cabin with the pillow still under my head and still covered up with a blanket. A split second later poor little Perry-dog landed on my tummy. Well, at that point I started to laugh like a loon and figured that I might just as well stay where I was for the remainder of my rest. I was safely wedged between the side of the bunk and the door to the cabin and couldn't move to the left or right. Perry heaved a sigh and went to sleep and I was eventually joined by Al until I was awakened for my next watch. It really must remember that our cabin floor is a good spot to have a rest if we are ever in such rough conditions again - God forbid.
Mike and I had a serious discussion at one point when Ron was on watch and we were both below - looking at options for the rest of the winter and what future trips would be like - one thing for sure is that we both realize that neither of us have any desire to make lengthy offshore crossings together again. He is now saying that he might do it in the company of a "couple of experienced gorillas" and I could fly to the destination. He also talked about looking into the cost of putting Nelleke on one of the large ships that transport yachts overseas. There are lots of possibilities for not stressing us or the boat.
When we finally got into Newport and were showered we made for The Black Pearl where Ron treated us to a great supper. We were not long out of our bunks after that. I am sure that Mike was asleep before his head even hit the pillow. It took me a bit longer to get comfortable and find a surface to comfortably sleep on that was not bruised too much.
I really regret that we were not able to make it to Bermuda and have the pleasure of Ron's wife, Pye, joining us for a brief vacation before Ron and Pye returned to Canada BUT we made the right decision to turn around and limp back to Newport. I hope that the rest of the rally fleet is making out better than we did.
Comments