25-08-07
0900HRS
LA CORUNA

Well we got the forecast we wanted thanks to the friendly night watchman at QAB. Northerlies for the rest of the week, force 5 to 6. Perfect for the 450 mile crossing to Spain. We left at 0700HRS on Tuesday 21st and killed the engine just outside Plymouth entrance; little did we know that we would not use the engine again, or change starboard tack until entering La Coruna.

Leaving Plymouth

The forecast held true and the force 6 was accompanied by gust of 7. What a difference to be going with the wind this time. Pete helmed and surfed down some of the waves which by now had grown in size. I was a tad alarmed when the boat occasionally headed up and as we rounded more towards the wind I appreciated how windy it actually was! Pete put my nerves at rest and I tried not to feel anxious as we had only gone 20 miles off the coast of England! The motion of the boat was strange. Not bouncing like heading up wind before, but rolling. The waves had a certain pattern about them; for a few minutes it would hold regularity in the angle of the following waves, but then the boa t would be knocked by several steeper waves that bashed into us rather than pick us up. We averaged 6-7 knots and on one occasion she surfed down a wave and recorded 10 knots on the log!

Swell

I found great comfort in trying to act like normal, doing all the things that I usually did. Checking the bilge I found ANOTHER BLOODY LEAK!!! This time I traced it back to the aft port side, again it seemed to pour in on the swell. Funny that the exhaust for the generator is on that side too…After bailing several bucket loads we decided that we would reassess the situation at Brest and if we needed to go seek a marina then we could.

We always wondered whether we would become sea sick. The sailing we had completed up until now was not severe enough to let us know. Although I had never felt any unease or sickness before, I just hoped I would be ok. On odd occasions in the past, Pete has felt a little queasy and it was not long into the passage that he commented that he did not feel too good. Lying down helped but it was the getting up and down, into and out of bed that was proving difficult. Although he was never sick on the whole journey, it troubled him that he felt ill, especially at night as although he usually felt better once he had returned to the cock pit, the blackness meant there was no visible horizon on which to focus on.

The sea swell that followed rolled us about and by nightfall we had reached the traffic separation scheme off the west coast of France near Brest. The wind dropped off and with it the leak subsided somewhat and so we began our first night of watches. With an early power nap before night set in, I took the first watch whilst Pete got some sleep. Well I say sleep, more like a record breaking attempt to kip on a rollercoaster, in an amphitheatre, with a rock band blasting out noise; virtually impossible until later on in the passage when you were so desperate to sleep that it did not matter. The boat has always made ‘noises’ and obviously as the conditions become harsher, so did the sounds. I tried to reassure Pete that it was like being on an old galleon as the wooden interior continuously creaked and stresses of the conditions on the boat carried around the inside. It was almost like the boat was talking to us, telling us how hard she was working and it drew on our emotions (I imagine like a mother trying to ignore the continual crying of a baby). When you woke up, (if lucky enough to get any shut eye), you momentarily forgot what it was like before you went to sleep and it seemed like a gale must be blowing. But after the quickest re-dress, when you popped your head outside it was no more windy than when you left!