Leg 5 Race 1.. Sneaky, speedy snails.

06 February 2024

There is a trend this leg of squirrely squalls appearing out of the blue around every wave peak; these squalls come in all shapes and sizes, some small and vicious, raising the wind to tempestuous levels for just a few minutes to throw you off course, or large sky scape spanning sprawls of grey rain that suck all movement from the air, leaving you dead in the water and wet. Some you can spot on radar as big red masses of cloud, but it’s characteristics are unknown until it hits. Preparing for the worst is the only option. At other times, however, you may see a squall visually that won’t present on our systems, but are just as nasty. Each squall presents an opportunity or a catastrophic downfall. May the best boat navigate this wild untameable ocean, to the victor goes an easy sail repair job in Vietnam.

We are still heading North, pushing away from the main fleet still and chasing down Dare to Lead. This move is starting to pay out majorly for us as we find ourselves in second place, with Zhuhai trailing just behind. The squalls ahead of us were large lightning fuelled rainstorms that bellowed thunderous growls as we approached. Though Dare to Lead had a kite up ahead of us, we preferred to keep our white sails up to keep calamity at bay, whilst maintaining similar speeds. Gaining and pulling away we played hide and seek through the rain, starting seven miles ahead they were leading, then suddenly, one peekaboo play and we appeared just 1.3miles behind them.

The satellite imaging that had come out earlier in the day had identified a long angry wall of cloud that continued along our shortest course to the mark. Instead of continuing our pursuit, we made an educated gamble and decided to further our track north in search of the elusive trade winds that may carry us beyond the absolutely pants weather we had been experiencing over the past day. Before doing so we decided it was time to enter into our stealth mode, hoping that the rest of the fleet wouldn’t catch on and we would fly by unnoticed. Zhuhai caught on before we could slip away and followed us into the night. Initially this paid off, pushing away at decent speeds, but as the night darkened the wind became irregular. It was as if the wind was running in all directions, wisps coming together forming conferences in the sky as we did our best to join in. What ensued was a long night watch of much change. Initially becalmed, five miles abeam of Zhuhai, we watched their light and them ours; we could see them on AIS, however, in line with the race rules around stealth mode, we had turned ours off; they knew exactly where we were visually, but had very little clue as to our course and speed. Wiggling through the dark we decided the best course of action was to point on course and hope for the best, following the wind only slightly if beneficial to our main goal: get closer to the finish.

Zhuhai took the other route and followed any wind they could, going searching for it in different directions, sometimes heading south east (absolutely wrong way). The weather was undeniably pants. We watched the clear stary sky for dark blobs of cloud. They snailed along until they met us and asked us, rather impolitely, what we were doing in their patch of the sea, spitting us out the other side. This squall riding was how we managed to survive the evening without losing too much ground to the others. Adjusting our sails regularly, from close hauled to dead downwind, we worked hard for progress; I think we hoisted and dropped the staysail five times through the night.

At the end of our stealth mode we had left Zhuhai four miles behind, but had dropped to fifth place in the rankings, there was better wind south this time. You win some you lose some.

Will x