ETA - what ETA?

Paul Larsen recounts the slow life on board Doha 2006 as she creeps up the Indian Ocean

Well if we are going to spend more time than expected sailing around out here trying to finish, at least we are blessed with the right conditions to make it more enjoyable. Progress has been slow that's for sure and every favourable little puff is pounced upon. As you would imagine in these light conditions, the sea-state is very flat and Doha 2006 just glides along with as much sail up as is possible.

She is probably lighter than she has ever been, having shed around 750 kilos of food, 350 kilos of diesel fuel and 75 odd kilos of bottled gas. Considering that we removed the main drive engines and prop shafts before the start while adding a much lighter sail inventory, she is in fine form to deal with the light conditions.

All the hatches are open as we try and get as much breeze as possible flowing below decks. A lot of the humidity has gone and as we plug away North we have lovely hot blue days and cool, clear nights. The breeze tends to drop away in the early hours and this morning, for the second time, people have been swimming off the boat. We had parked up again.

Of course it could have all been completely different had the other two big boats remained in the race. It was one of my questions to various crew members as I conducted individual video interviews today, 2What do you think would be happening now if Cheyenne and Geronimo were still in the race?" Everyone interviewed agreed that this finish, in fact this whole ocean, would have turned into an absolute pressure cooker considering what we have seen on our climb back north.

The weather routers struggle to predict what is coming and we end up sailing re-actively to whatever we get. We've had to deal with cyclones, double Doldrums, squalls, lengthy park ups and alot of light fickle stuff. Throw $1,000,000 dollars prize purse into the big picture of the end of a 60 odd day circumnavigation with leads growing and evaporating at maxi-cat rates and there is little doubt that what could have been... could have been pretty tense. I'm sure that this is the stretch that the big trimaran Geronimo was itching for.

Last night we got an absolute hammering from the flying fish. Even Jacques Vincent has never seen so many... and this is from a guy who spends so much time out here he reckons he can smell whale shit across a windswept Southern Ocean!!! Seriously, there were long periods where dozens of these winged oddities of the ocean were smacking into both the hulls at once, barrage after barrage. Inside it sounded like a class full of school kids were running up and down the outside playing drumsticks on the hull with their bare hands. These multihulls make a pretty good trap for flying fish as they are spooked by one hull and then fly off into the other.

People on deck hit the floor to hide and a crash helmut was even brought over for Sharon who was just waiting to cop the oft quoted 'slap in the face with a wet fish' that everything else is supposed to be better than. In between barrages we ran around gathering the bigger ones which Damian and Jonny cleaned and cooked in Olive oil. Wow, a different taste and texture. When cut open, their stomachs were full of bio-luminescence which glowed bright blue (I'm hoping here that there isn't someone out there who studies such fish thinking 'Oh my god, they didn't eat the glowing,blue gutted ones did they'). So far there have been no side effects.

I think that everyone has given up on wondering about ETA's. It's accepted now that it is pointless as no-one knows. Comments like 'well we ONLY have to average 10 knots to get in on Friday' are great until you spend 24 hours barely doing half that.

Neverhteless, all our clothes are washed and we are all looking remarkably fresh. It will be a nice way to finish if it lasts. The tensions from a few days ago have evaporated and an air of light hearted humour has returned.

Life onboard is so simple. It's about this stage, right near the end where you begin to contemplate some of the things that you aren't looking forward to on shore. The useless distractions which are shoved down your throat on a regular basis, the constant fascination with the worries of the world through all sorts of non-stop media, traffic, pollution, the on going struggle to lead even a humble existence... yep, life is pretty simple out here. Your objectives are pure and easily defined. Soon it is all going to be over so it's a good time to pick a quiet corner of the boat just to sit and reflect on how lucky we are to have this time in our lives.

Sure it's slow, but it's still a nice way to finish.
Paul

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