Out of Harm's Wave

Day 24 of the Return trip 

 

So firstly, since the last blog we passed a pretty significant milestone:

1000 miles to Cape Town! That's right, our distance to home has dropped by an order of magnitude and is now a 3 digit number.

 

But wait! There's more! As I write this, we are within 15 miles of the Greenwich Meridian. This is big, because the majority of the crew have never crossed this line on a boat. Zero degrees longitude indicates the military time zone 'Zulu'. As such, we have been building up since months before departing for the day we cross the Greenwich Meridian. We have even designated the day 'Zulu Day' and have a whole host of celebrations lined up. You can read more about them in the next blog.

 

If you've been watching the tracker even a fraction as closely as my dad has, then you'll see that we have been putting ocean behind us faster than you can say 'Voortrekker'. Since that howling breeze settled down, we have had 20-25 knots on the beam which has stuck with us for the last 24 hours.

Our average speeds have been outstanding. BUT, where I come from, we have a

saying: "Nothing for Mahala, baba"

 

In the words of Greg Hunt (Rio return delivery 2011): "Hows this rain bru.

F*** and h***."

I could kick myself for the irony of making the 'they pay for it in kak weather' comment in the Tristan blog post. Since the night we left Tristan it has been raining more than not. Just when we were starting to get accustomed to chasing sunrises, the sun stopped rising.

 

EVERYTHING is wet. Anything that didn't get drenched by spray, an open hatch or a leaky stanchion base got nailed by the condensation dripping down everywhere (unless it was in a Ziplock/Dry-bag, of course). We've written off books, biscuits, some electronics, celebratory cigars, and paper towels. Dry socks and underpants have become the most valuable commodity on the boat. The next most valuable is Talcum Powder -  which the boys have just realised does wonders on damp feet and bums. With all the clothes and fine white powder strewn around the cabin it looks like there's been one CRAZY party on Ciao Bella. Add to that the straggly looking adloescents clamouring around the boat with tired eyes, and I think you get the picture.

 

We are down to ONE SINGLE BUNK that is still dry. The port-side quarter berth. Two people now have to share this bunk with all of our bags on the other side of the lee-cloth. It's cosy. Then one poor soul has to have the slightly damp quarter berth on the starboard side. When you get woken for your watch, you have to peel your sleeping bag off yourself, then hold your breath when you put your wet foul-weather gear on.

 

But it's fine. We have passed 1000NM to go, we are moving fast and...

it's Zulu Day!