How to describe best the ARC programme? SUPER BUSY!!

Now that most participants have arrived, the marina is busting with activity: the ARC organisers are easy to spot with their yellow T-shirts, so are the participants with their blue wrist bands and ARC badges (it's not compulsory to wear, but it helps with ID and getting discounts in the shops). It feels like we're in a large boat show by day, with all kinds of boats present: multihulls (Lagoon alone has 12 entries), small monohulls, big monohulls, maxi-yachts, racing machines, old schooners, ...there is something for everyone. Then at night, the whole place turns into an even larger Club Med style resort: nightly happy hours (sponsored by the friendly butcher and greencrocer from the Central market!), Welcoming Party, Opening night, Opening ceremony, Family BBQ, crew supper, Owners Cocktails, Costume Party, Lagoon Party, Farewell Party...the kids love it, and somehow they forgot about all these weeks of frustration in mainland Europe and the hard few days to finish school, this was worth waiting for (says Marc!). They are kept busy with the local kids club who has a special program for the 21 ARC children: beach games, museums, field excursions, optimists sailing, ...giving the parents a welcome relief and time to attend to the boat.

All sorts of information seminars are organised during the day, and while we think we know a lot after 20 years of experience cruising, we still book in for some refresher courses in emergency handling, first aid at sea, SSB radio communications and downwind sailing (other seminars include "how to cope with stress" and "provisioning", but that would be like taking the coals to Newscatle). Boy, these seminars have the drastic effect to make me feel terribly inadequate: the speakers starting the session with " we assume that every crew has done a first aid or emergency handling course by now, this is just a reminder". Well, neither Terry and I have done any courses (unless studying for a NSW boat license counts?), we just focus on staying on the boat and not do anything stupid. All these talks about MOB drill (that's Man Over Board for the unititiated), how to cut your rig loose if you must, or ensure you know how to light up a flare, make me more nervous than I've ever been. So when Terry books in Jerry, the rigger for a rig inspection, I studiously tag along and make note of every pins, blocks, wires that requires attention (thankfully not many). Similarly, I check our first aid kit compulsively, and end up buying extra pain killers, splints, burn cream, ...hoping we'll never have to use them.

The ARC organisers obviously see safety as paramount (or at least their insurance company does) and the first thing they have us booked for is an inspection of our safety gear onboard. Having the equipment is not a problem, all participants are issued a standard list at the time of enrolment, so it was merely a matter of spending a few (hundred) euros. But how to use it is another story. Back in Portugal, while bored one evening, we decided to wear and try inflating our lifejackets. That was certainly sobering, neither of us had done it before (except Terry many years ago): Anne was so scared she burst into tears, I could not locate the whistle, and Marc took ages to secure the jacket in the first place. So we decided to carry out a family safety briefing the day before the inspection, led by Terry. Being shown the location of the grab bag, how to cut the liferaft loose, identify and use the different types of flares, spooked the kids a little (after all this is not the fun part of cruising) but at least they do know how serious we are when we demand they stay inside the boat. Marc and I also volunteered to take part in the liferaft launching and boarding demonstration: I figured that would hopefully be the only time we ever do it, and we may as well know how it's done. Now we know, and it is so difficult, we vowed never to have to step foot into one of them!

The funny thing about such a big rally is the diversity of crew around. In the same way there are all types of boats, there are all types of crew: racing crew, charter and delivery crew, short handed families like us, groups of friends after an adventure, some paying guests (much to Marc's surprise "Why would anyone want to pay to spend 2 weeks on an ocean crossing...as boring as!").Terry has found his dreamboat, a Gunboat 66, and befriended the young crew (average age must be 32!), who are happy to show Marc and Anne around the boat. Marc is so impressed, he's starting to wonder if working in the yacht delivery/crewing industry would be a good job. It certainly looks like fun, in events like the ARC, though we remind him that people may play hard, but they work mighty hard as well !! There are so many first timers among the participants, that Terry and I acquire near celebrity status when we mention our 23 years offshore cruising. Terry mechanical brains are in high demand (not to mention his tool collection) and I find myself asked about tips for provisioning. How do you know what to buy? Do I have a menu plan? Well, as a matter of fact, I do. I ask everyone what they'd like to eat, and that's what goes on the menu: we have family favourites ( roast chicken, lamb chops, baked pasta, curries), fast food (hamburgers, hot dogs, pizza), healthy options (lentils, salads, wraps) and desserts (ice cream, brownies, apple pies,...). Most prepared meals are frozen, as is the bread, and meat, in case we catch fish and don't want to have food going bad. Still, I don't rely on catching fish (in fact we have not caught any so far!), and I have plenty either frozen, dry or in tins to last us for a month. Admittedly, the boat is big enough to store everything: 3 fridges, 2 freezers, plenty of cupboard space, storage under the lounge and floor...I go as far as organising "accessible" storage under the floor, for all the pantry items required during the crossing, so that I don't have to rummage under the lounges. Terry thinks that I am taking the organisation too far, bordering on obsessive compulsive behaviour, but I'm not doing it for them really, I am doing it for myself. You see, I am sure to be sea sick, so it needs to be easy for people to find what they want without turning the whole galley upside down. And we're only talking about food here. Even though I planned for drinks (90 beers, 30 litres of water, 20 large bottles of soft drinks), everyone is responsible for their own drinks. Up to them to stock up the fridge. Terry can't complain, as he ends up with double space for his beer since I've decided to make this crossing a dry one for me (perfect detox: sea sick and alcohol free! Might even lose some weight...) Whether my system works for other people, I'm not sure, but I know that we've never starved on our boat, and there is nothing like a batch of pancakes (or popcorn, hot chocolate,...) to keep the crew happy when bored at sea!

So are we ready? Very much so. Someone once said to us that a boat is never ready, it's just a matter of being ready enough. Couldn't agree more: Terry has spent this whole last week carrying out repairs on the winch and the battery chargers, after Laurent from Lagoon flew down with the parts. These were the last items on his list, and as he started to find other "little" problems, I begged him to stop overthinking. Whatever is wrong right now, it's not serious enough to stop us from leaving and surely can be attended to on the other side. Time to go sailing I think!


The photo is a copy of an article written in the local newspaper. In spanish, our boat is described as a school on the high seas!