A game of two halves

We have been debating on the boat as to whether the World Cup has started. We think it was last night and hence I am using a well-worn football term to describe our journey so far.

We discussed the weather and tidal options before this race and quite frankly, the final diagram was an absolute maze. Leaving New York saw us sailing upwind with a variety of kites (spinnakers) and we wondered what the fuss was about talking about the cold, high winds and big seas. Shorts and T-shirts were the order of the day. We continued in the warmth when our strategy of getting to the Gulf Stream worked and we were carried by a 4 to 5 knot current of water at 25 degrees. This went on for longer than we thought and our place in the field reflected that, second. People were happy and there was much talk about how great the reception is at Derry and what a party they put on. Then the whistle went for half time and we entered the 'second half'.

The Gulf Stream diminished and we hit the cold Labrador Stream coming down from the north. The winds shifted and we are now heading into the wind with all the bouncing and crashing and were also heeled over and the temperature has dropped. We now have a sea temperature in single figures and are posting lookout watches for icebergs as we have had notification that although we are at a latitude just south of the icebergs, we may still encounter one.

The lumpy seas have brought out the seasickness in many of the crew with a small number not even able to get on deck. We are picking up the wind in the low pressure systems and must ride these as long as we can.

We now get less sleep because we have to be up earlier than usual to enable us to put on more clothes and all of our foul weather gear. Moving around the boat is harder and cooking at between 30 and 45 degrees is a real test. However, I pride myself in making a cake two days ago when I did my 'mother' duty for the day. I think that was the last time we had a full complement of crew eating.

So these are the hard times and everything is energy sapping, particularly with waves breaking over the bow and over us. But amongst these difficult times, we do get moments of joy. Yesterday morning I was just about to go below to get another sail up on deck when the cry of “dolphins” went up. Swimming towards us were a large number of them, some leaping out of the water. Then one jumped clear out of the water, just 5 foot from the boat and 10 feet away from me. What an incredible and beautiful sight, one which will stay with me for a long time.

Best wishes from the north Atlantic.

Malcolm

NOTE: For those reading this via email update, don't forget to visit the blog at https://malclipper.blogspot.com where you can pledge support via donations to Malcolm's chosen charities - the Bobby Moore Fund tackling bowel cancer; the James Whale Fund for kidney cancer; and Prostate Cancer UK.

Telling the Flying Fish story as we leave New York