0408hrs 06 Feb 2005 UTC 48’31”S 160’20”W Map Ref 48 2388nm
We seem to be dropping out of the high and getting some of the breeze from all the isobaric spaghetti to the south of us. Twin poling and tracking just north of east (T) at 4834S. Looks a bit windy below 49 so we wont go there. The seabirds are back – we’ve only seen the occasional albatross or black petrel for the last three days or so – not as many today as before but several different species, some in pairs. Do they travel round the oceans in flocks or is it just coincidence? All interested in the potential feed from our turbine. We have just pulled the turbine in to check the knot at the end of the line for chafe and it was lucky we did. I will keep the chafed end for Gerry’s safety and sea survival courses.
On which topic, wearing my instructor’s hat, I’ve been thinking about what we can learn from our knockdown and all the other interesting things that happen down here. I think the lessons from the knockdown are obvious – stormboards really work, poor stowage can leave you in deep trouble (lucky, for instance, that we were both on deck), never ever assume that it’s not necessary to clip on, lashing sails to the forward rail is an absolute no-no in those conditions even though they were well above the deck so water could flow underneath – and a seaworthy boat is a good investment. And all the things we got right too, listed earlier.
I was quite badly hurt – still cant sleep on that side or sneeze without a nasty twinge – and I think we were very lucky that only one of us was hurt. Once we’d sorted the cockpit and repacked the spare diesel tanks, untangled most of the mess and I’d got myself below, I managed to do some essential cleaning up, sorted the laptop and sent the one-liner, made a couple of radio calls, found the autopilot and sent it up to Pete, logged our position, and fed Pete with goats milk tea and other delicacies and then fell in a heap on the floor and tried to stay warm and braced so that it didn’t hurt. The wet weather gear seals had kept most of the water out so I was partially dry. Once the initial effort was over and I could actually feel the injury and shock was kicking in, I was no use to anyone (resist the temptation please Mr Fenwick). And I didn’t want to stick possible broken bones through other potentially useful bits of tissue – at the time I thought I could actually feel them grating. If Pete had been in the same state, we’d have had to do our best to drop the storm jib and just park for however long was necessary. Perhaps till the guinness ran out, although I can’t think of a better way to recover.
And I dont think we could have avoided some kind of knockdown from that wave. We might have fared a bit better if we could have run diagonally down it, which Pete was trying to do but without time to get the steering lines off and the tiller over. Pete is an old surfie and he can recognise a dumper when he sees one, and his main concern was to avoid getting his head banged on a winch, so he sort of dived under the tiller and wrapped himself around it. All in hundredths of a second by instinct. We copped it almost squarely on the beam. As I think I said, you can’t win em all and we were only partially prepared and very lucky. We hope there won’t be any more that bad, but we also hope that we’ve learned enough to be in much better nick if there are. In retrospect, I think the basic and most potentially dangerous stuff-up was forgetting to screw down the bunkboards. We got a reasonable pass on most of the rest.
And the mung beans are sprouting, after I thought I’d drowned the poor little things.