It was a frightening thought that the next time I would see land or other people besides Richard and Coen would be in about 2 weeks time. As the Namibian coast disappeared behind me, I hoped I hadn't made a mistake.
I tried to do some teaching but my student suffered severe sea sickness the first day. Richard and I took the first night watch from 7pm-10pm, we were wrapped in blankets and wore beanies and tracksuits. The weather was rough and waves were crashing noisily against the side of the boat, cautious I put a safety harness on and attached myself to a line. The autopilot hummed. We looked above us and about 100nm away from Luderitz, the stars were the brightest I have ever seen. We chatted cheerfully about the trip and the time passed quickly.I fell into a deep sleep in the warmth of my cabin while Coen took the next 3 hour a shift. A 3 hour sleep wasn't nearly enough and was exhausted and confused when I got woken up for my second shift.
A very creepy occurance happened on that second night shift. I was telling Richard an old sailing legend of how it was bad luck to whistle on a boat ,as it is 'calling strong winds', in the olden days it would often cause confusion and ships to run aground as whistling was used by the captain to give orders to crew and if crew started whistling it caused chaos. As I finished up I noticed the scared look on Richard's face and I whistled playfully as a joke. Just then the VHF radio crackled and the sound of another person whistling gave us a jolting fright, there were no other ships to be seen. We looked around us and suddenly a huge wave crashed against the boat causing a enourmous 'CRACK' sound , then the most dramatic event occured, the autopilot made a few weird slipping and squeking sounds and just stopped turning the wheel. Richard took the helm while I woke up Coen.
Coen had a look at it and said it should be easy to fix in daylight and we should just handsteer the rest of the night. Me and Rich took turns handsteering the rest of our shift but we both found it very difficult to stay on course because of the rough weather and the compass was hard to see. Daylight finaly came but after stripping the wheel , Coen couldnt find a solution to the broken autohelm, we would be handsteering until St Helena! OH NO! We worked out a system where each person would steer for two hours as anything more than that was unbearable. The 4 hours you got off at a time went by very fast as there was always something to do: cook, clean, eat, shower, trim sails and most importantly : CATCH UP ON SLEEP.
I found living on the boat very challenging but I enjoyed those challenges. I loved cooking on the quick and easy gas stove and becoming creative with meal ideas as our fresh food started running low. I experimented with making bread and the Galley Guide onboard was a huge help. The guys were always highly aprreciative. We ate well, Coen was a great cook and Richard could make uh..eggs. Most importantly we caught a huge dorado which fed us for over a week with sushimi, fish pie, fishcakes, boiled fish and fried fish.
Showering aboard was something I didn't enjoy quite as much , it basically involved me and Richard throwing buckets of water over each other in our underwear, I craved a hot bath.
There is an on-deck toilet that I swore I would never use as everyone can see you doing your business, but I soon warmed up to the idea of it after I grew tired of pumping the bowl of the small, cramped toilet downstairs.
The 12 days we spent at sea were exhausting, the night watches took seemed to take an eternity and I felt like I never got enough sleep, but giving up is not an option when you are in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. We grew strong as a crew and all knew the boat so well. Seeing St Helena come into view at first light on that 12th day was incredible , and even though I was sunburnt and exhausted I was overwhelmed with excitement and me and Richard couldnt stop running around the yacht and taking photos of St Helena's magestic cliffs. It looked like something out of Jarrasic Park and seemed so unexplored, beckoning us for adventures. We couldnt wait to anchor and head ashore.
St Helena was like something out of a storybook with its old Colonial buildings, beautiful gardens filled with hibiscus trees, and their jolly friendly people who were all neatly dressed and incredibly polite. Our week long stay there was incredibly enjoyable.
We noticed that our friends , Matt , Kyle , Alex and Aussie skipper, Shaun, on 'Sister Moon' were anchored nearby. The young crew invited us snorkeling where we saw lots of colurful reef fish and crayfish in the clear water along the cliffs. It was warm and mild and was so nice to walk around in Tshirts and shorts. Matt taught Rich to spearfish and the boys from 'Sister Moon', invited us over for a delicous fish and crayfish feast. Richard, clumsy as always, tipped his cup of juice over the Captains meal.
We went on a tour of the island and saw the house Napoleon lived in, his grave , the 'oldest' tortoise in the world, whose name was Jonathon, and the beautiful diverse scenery of St Helena.Our tour guide, a very young looking 80 year old ,was bemused by mine and Richards sibling like antics and was shocked to find out I was his teacher. In our spare time we climbed Jacob's ladder, a steep 699 flight of stairs which, Richard quickly clambered up, I ascended steadily and Coen completed with a lot of effort. We also visited the museum and were surprised to find Zulu chiefs and Boers had been sent into exile on the island, a beautiful place to be imprisoned, I must say.
Coen took a last look at the autopilot but looked irrepairable. We knew how hard the sail another sail would be without it. Knowing our prediciment, Kyle from Sister Moon, offered to sail with us from Ascension to Salvador to ease the load, if Coen would fly him to Paris afterward. After dicussing it with us, Coen agreed and we slept our last night on the waters of St Helena.
I tried to do some teaching but my student suffered severe sea sickness the first day. Richard and I took the first night watch from 7pm-10pm, we were wrapped in blankets and wore beanies and tracksuits. The weather was rough and waves were crashing noisily against the side of the boat, cautious I put a safety harness on and attached myself to a line. The autopilot hummed. We looked above us and about 100nm away from Luderitz, the stars were the brightest I have ever seen. We chatted cheerfully about the trip and the time passed quickly.I fell into a deep sleep in the warmth of my cabin while Coen took the next 3 hour a shift. A 3 hour sleep wasn't nearly enough and was exhausted and confused when I got woken up for my second shift.
A very creepy occurance happened on that second night shift. I was telling Richard an old sailing legend of how it was bad luck to whistle on a boat ,as it is 'calling strong winds', in the olden days it would often cause confusion and ships to run aground as whistling was used by the captain to give orders to crew and if crew started whistling it caused chaos. As I finished up I noticed the scared look on Richard's face and I whistled playfully as a joke. Just then the VHF radio crackled and the sound of another person whistling gave us a jolting fright, there were no other ships to be seen. We looked around us and suddenly a huge wave crashed against the boat causing a enourmous 'CRACK' sound , then the most dramatic event occured, the autopilot made a few weird slipping and squeking sounds and just stopped turning the wheel. Richard took the helm while I woke up Coen.
Coen had a look at it and said it should be easy to fix in daylight and we should just handsteer the rest of the night. Me and Rich took turns handsteering the rest of our shift but we both found it very difficult to stay on course because of the rough weather and the compass was hard to see. Daylight finaly came but after stripping the wheel , Coen couldnt find a solution to the broken autohelm, we would be handsteering until St Helena! OH NO! We worked out a system where each person would steer for two hours as anything more than that was unbearable. The 4 hours you got off at a time went by very fast as there was always something to do: cook, clean, eat, shower, trim sails and most importantly : CATCH UP ON SLEEP.
I found living on the boat very challenging but I enjoyed those challenges. I loved cooking on the quick and easy gas stove and becoming creative with meal ideas as our fresh food started running low. I experimented with making bread and the Galley Guide onboard was a huge help. The guys were always highly aprreciative. We ate well, Coen was a great cook and Richard could make uh..eggs. Most importantly we caught a huge dorado which fed us for over a week with sushimi, fish pie, fishcakes, boiled fish and fried fish.
Showering aboard was something I didn't enjoy quite as much , it basically involved me and Richard throwing buckets of water over each other in our underwear, I craved a hot bath.
There is an on-deck toilet that I swore I would never use as everyone can see you doing your business, but I soon warmed up to the idea of it after I grew tired of pumping the bowl of the small, cramped toilet downstairs.
The 12 days we spent at sea were exhausting, the night watches took seemed to take an eternity and I felt like I never got enough sleep, but giving up is not an option when you are in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. We grew strong as a crew and all knew the boat so well. Seeing St Helena come into view at first light on that 12th day was incredible , and even though I was sunburnt and exhausted I was overwhelmed with excitement and me and Richard couldnt stop running around the yacht and taking photos of St Helena's magestic cliffs. It looked like something out of Jarrasic Park and seemed so unexplored, beckoning us for adventures. We couldnt wait to anchor and head ashore.
St Helena was like something out of a storybook with its old Colonial buildings, beautiful gardens filled with hibiscus trees, and their jolly friendly people who were all neatly dressed and incredibly polite. Our week long stay there was incredibly enjoyable.
We noticed that our friends , Matt , Kyle , Alex and Aussie skipper, Shaun, on 'Sister Moon' were anchored nearby. The young crew invited us snorkeling where we saw lots of colurful reef fish and crayfish in the clear water along the cliffs. It was warm and mild and was so nice to walk around in Tshirts and shorts. Matt taught Rich to spearfish and the boys from 'Sister Moon', invited us over for a delicous fish and crayfish feast. Richard, clumsy as always, tipped his cup of juice over the Captains meal.
We went on a tour of the island and saw the house Napoleon lived in, his grave , the 'oldest' tortoise in the world, whose name was Jonathon, and the beautiful diverse scenery of St Helena.Our tour guide, a very young looking 80 year old ,was bemused by mine and Richards sibling like antics and was shocked to find out I was his teacher. In our spare time we climbed Jacob's ladder, a steep 699 flight of stairs which, Richard quickly clambered up, I ascended steadily and Coen completed with a lot of effort. We also visited the museum and were surprised to find Zulu chiefs and Boers had been sent into exile on the island, a beautiful place to be imprisoned, I must say.
Coen took a last look at the autopilot but looked irrepairable. We knew how hard the sail another sail would be without it. Knowing our prediciment, Kyle from Sister Moon, offered to sail with us from Ascension to Salvador to ease the load, if Coen would fly him to Paris afterward. After dicussing it with us, Coen agreed and we slept our last night on the waters of St Helena.
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