Leg 6 Race 2 .. A swallow’s blessing.

02.04.2024

Wallace and Smiley have been scheming. It seems they have become discontented with the way the boat operates, and keep oodling and pointing fingers to middle management. Talks of a formation of a union are spreading through the galley to the CCZ, I may need to find a compromise; Though I think wenslidale might be somewhat difficult to find on the boat, I may have to turn to chuppa chups to coaxe them into calming the escalating interest in forming a union.

Fast kite sailing was the talk of the morning of the 1st of April, the wind gradually rose to gusts in the low thirty knots, forcing just enough power into the helm to provide a slight struggle. With our Code 2 up this became perfect to offer some practice to helms that had not yet experienced heavy downwind sailing; something we haven’t had a huge deal of for quite some time, and necessary practice for the big weather we are soon to run into. We pushed to the end of our watch with barely a broach before the powers of fate, and tradition, decided it would be a great joke if the tack were to release on its own accord. We quickly mustered to bring it down, avoiding damaging the precious canvas; fortunately, Mushu watch had just finished lunch, and were able to lend a hand in all this as we quickly sent the kite downstairs and hoisted the Yankee 1. This turn of events proved to be less catastrophic than imagined as we continued to surf at 14knots under white sails.

The Yankee stayed up through the afternoon until the wind dropped to nothing again for another slow wind hole. The trend of fluctuating winds, ebbing and flowing from high to low speeds, continues; Japan’s waters are making their mark in our minds as an indecisive and fickle sea. The stars through the night were beautiful and bright as we moved further from smoggy skies and closer to the civilisation void. As we bobbed the moon watched over us with a toothy smile long through the morning as a pale orange glow sounded the coming of its partner on the horizon, burning and bright, meeting the shimmering white of the moon’s reflection with its own calm pink over the big blue canvas of the well rested sea.

Rick had his wiggle on. We had given up on a course by this point and had focused on filling the sail with what we could whilst pointing in vaguely the right direction. For three hours he helmed to the tune of “American rock anthems”, full concentration, while we lounged around enjoying the sunrise; he did bring us from five miles behind of perseverance to one ahead during this time though. The wind began to build again through the day prompting another kite hoist in the early afternoon. This went smoothly, until we had our second kitemare in 24hours, or, rather, I had my second kitemare. My canary yellow croc decided it had been overworked and mistreated and jumped ship; very sad times, maybe we should start a union, for croc retention.

We eased into a beautiful evening, slightly frustrated that, though being the fastest boat on every report, the others were pulling away as we approached the final mark before the big blue. But no time for stressing, we had made a friend! A lovely, friendly, old swallow came and joined in with our conversations. She flew around, had a chat with everyone, making sure everyone was alright; she checked all our kit, lines, rigging, MoB gear, before completing a full inspection of the galley. The sun began to set, and as it dropped down into the ocean the sweet little swallow continued her migration to another place.

Will x