All right I'm back from my Clipper adventure. Here's a write up about my experience ...
I started sailing about 4 years ago. I discovered that I enjoy sailing alone and that maybe I'd like to do that offshore too. After a couple of years of sailing in South Bay I started looking into my options. I've had zero luck with other people's boat: I guess I can't socialize enough to meet folks who'd ok my joining them aboard for an offshore race or delivery. Buying a boat and keeping it afloat is expensive. I was eyeing the SHTP race as a good place to start. It would be providing a somewhat safe environment to get my feet wet (qualifiers, safety requirements, etc). That's when I ran across Clipper's ad in Latitude 38. I made contact April 2016. I compared the cost of what they offered and what an SHTP bid would cost me and decided to go with Clipper.
I spent many evenings pondering how many legs and which I should sign up for. My main goal was to experience heavy weather, with a focus on big seas, such that if I'd find myself in similar conditions in the future I'd have had preliminary experience. Of course the rationale behind this is that Clipper provides a safe environment for this (the boat and the skipper). Ultimately I decided to go for the North Pacific crossing which has the reputation of being the hardest leg. I didn't want to go in with no experience and I added the South Atlantic, which is a short ride in fairly good conditions.
I'll skip over the training and pick up my story when I arrive in Punta Del Este. Our boat, Sanya Serenity Coast, had arrived first with no significant damage to the boat, sails or crew. As such there wasn't much work to do on the boat. I moved into a bunk, being the one of two sleeping on the boat, to save cost on lodging. I met with the rest of the crew and for the most part it was a bit of a wait game until race start. We did host an open boat where public comes and visit with the crew touring the boat. We also were scheduled to have a refresher sail for new crew but that was cancelled because it was blowing too hard.
The race start day came and it was still blowing hard. We didn't have a very good start but really who cares on a long distance race. It didn't take long for the horizon to be empty of boats and, before night came down, we had settled in the watch routine (6-6-4-4-4). I was on the starboard watch as assistant watch leader. I didn't keep a blog so everything is a blur. We had the full main on (or maybe one reef), the staysail and the yankee 3, on a fast reach, which was a lot but ok. We had discussed going down a reef but it was discarded as the boat handled fine. On my first night watch I was sitting by the traveller, 3-4 of the crew were sitting on the windward rail and our watch leader was standing in the cockpit talking to them. A random wave came over the rail and washed down the boat. It wasn't particularly big but it was large enough to knock the sitting crew off a bit and send the guy standing across the cockpit and down to the leeward rail. It was blowing around 30 kts and the leeward rail was often pushed in the water. The guy being lightweight was pushed by the water and got nudged under the yankee sheet where it comes out of the car and his feet were stuck in the netting. His life jacket inflated. He was trapped with an arm out of service. Not seeing movement from the crew above him I jumped over the traveller to him; mind you, I remained tethered all along, so it took a bit of time, jumping is an exaggeration. I still got to him first, noticed the situation, asked him to relax (water was washing over his head due to the rail being in the water). I deflated his life jacket a little. At that point someone else came to assist and I asked him to release his feet from the netting and we pulled him over. At that point everybody was ready to assist and I stepped out to let the other folks take him under (skipper wanted one more reef in so we worked on that). He had hit one of the grinders and we discovered when we made landfall that he had dislocated his left shoulder (this was not diagnosed at sea; it was thought to be muscle injury only).
Now this crew had done an excellent first leg from Liverpool to Punta Del Este in conditions that were not close to what we were experiencing and this accident on the first night caused a bit of grief. I found out later that at least a couple of crew were scared. Skipper didn't communicate with me to ask me to step up as watch leader but she did re-shuffle the two watches to even out the skills and I found my self with the other Frenchman on the boat (Ok, I'm Belgian), a really experienced sailor who owned (and loved) an Olson 30 on the East Coast.
All sorts of people join in this adventure, some of them sailors but all of the leaders in their own way. One thing that is certain is that by essence not everyone will have the same experience. There are way too many factors involved:
1. Some crew are "round worlders";
2. Some crew have specific roles (watch leader, engineers, safety officer, victualler, bosun, sail repair, etc), and some accumulate roles;
3. Some are stronger then others.
In the end though you'd hope everyone finds satisfaction. Personally I was happy being an assistant watch leader. However things didn't pan out the way I'd thought. Skipper was an interesting character at sea. Unfortunately she didn't take kindly to me. Every time she'd address me it was with a critique with a tone of anger or condescension. Besides that there was no communication, not even to provide me with instructions when I ended up stepping up as watch leader. I made the best of it for a while but it got to me and I blew up. More on that later.
I'd say more than 75% crew is British or related. As such the culture on board is very much British. I hope this doesn't come across wrong but that's not the most uplifting culture if you know what I mean. It's certainly not an uplifting, encouraging culture like one finds here in the Bay. I came on and was doling out compliments, trying to recognize folks' contribution and it came a bit as a surprise to the rest of the crew.
Time went by, I continued to dislike skipper's communication with me but tried to not take it personally. Sailing conditions eased and we started changing sails. We were having fun too, lots of joking and dancing, somehow getting to be the "happy watch". I started making changes on our watch as well. When I joined only a limited number of crew were helming and I decided to expand that to other crew, to give us more options.
It took about 4 days I'd say for the crew to shake off the first night's injury and get back into racing mode. The first night and thereafter I found the team to be a little lethargic and our position in the fleet suffered. We never really recovered and arrived in 7th position in Cape Town.
As we were making progress nights were getting a little colder and they were certainly wet, with constant splashing about. Steering involved a lot of looking at the compass.
When the wind died down we dropped the main sail to repair a batten and re-close a batten pocket. The mast track also gave us trouble, preventing us to shake reefs. A reef line broke too. But generally speaking not much happened.
My day in the galley came; every 24 hrs a member from each watch is assigned galley duty, which includes feeding the crew and a few other things. The benefit is that one can get an uninterrupted sleep. At that point my mood wasn't particularly high, like it was when I joined. My galley partner ended up being a little bossy and sparks flew about. We apologized to each other but I don't like getting angry at people and it put yet another damper in my mood. That's when I got my injury. I went into my bunk for a sleep. I reflected at how passively angry I was when pulling my sleeping bag's zipper, which slipped out of my hand and the sharp end went straight into my left eye, which I didn't have enough time to close. I stayed in my bunk, did the next (night) watch with my eyes mostly closed and then decided to retire at the end of the watch as the pain was getting too strong and I couldn't keep my eyes open. An eye scratch was diagnosed and I took pain killers. I staid off deck for 48 hours. It took about 36 hrs for the pain to subside. If you haven't had an eye scratch ... it's like a needle in the eye, basically an open wound with salt on it.
While I was out we had a third injury. The same scenario played out (wave across the beam) and one guy broke his wrist (again this was not diagnosed until Xrays were taken in Cape Town).
There were a few light wind days. My best memory is being at the helm with the code 2 spinnaker up and feeling in control, steering down as waves would pick up and accelerate the boat, calling trim to the trimmers and going fast.
We did broach once (my first broach). We were just about to change watch and was telling the helmsperson to stay a little lower as I felt we were pushing it. In fact as he was communicating the course to the new helmsperson I interjected to start 10 degrees lower first and then pick up if he felt ok about it. And that's when it happened ... Oh boy, was there panic aboard. We had preventers on, which was good as the boom somehow ended up high in the air and we could have gybed there. I was near the main so I dumped that. Eventually we recovered but again some of the crew got scarred and remained scared.
We had a major overwrap on one of the primary winches, which require lifting the winch to remove it (i.e. remove the drum).
Besides my injury I'm happy to report that I didn't screw up.
We saw lots of birds and dolphins a couple nights; I think the other watch may have spotted a whale. The food was good, with lots of fresh ingredients. Sleep was ok, although I don't remember anyone having to wake me up (i.e. it wasn't deep sleep). As far as personal hygiene is concerned I wanted to push the limits to see what works and what doesn't. And pushing I did ... I was the lowest of the low! I didn't change clothes for the whole trip (merino brief, capilene t-shirt, fleece, nylon pants); the only thing I changed were socks. I didn't use wet wipes to wash. I used hand sanitizer after each use of the head and brushed my teeth every 3 days or so. And it was fine. In other words I didn't smell bad, no itching ... I felt clean ... except for the feet. I need to change socks daily. For all its miracle wonders merino wool doesn't work with my feet ... I've always had stinky feet and merino wool wasn't able to put a dent into that. It must be noted that we didn't sweat much up until the last days of the crossing as most activity wasn't heavy work. Towards the end though we started changing sails more often, dropping yankees, hoisting spinnakers, dousing spinnakers. And that's a little more demanding. I think the sweat may cause more bad smell so I'll have to monitor that for the next crossing. But really the lesson learned for me is that I didn't need half of what I brought with me, and that wasn't much: weighed down everything was 53 lbs (including boots and foulies; everything, except the clothing I was wearing at the airport when I weighed my luggage).
We made landfall in Cape Town and received a warm welcome. I stayed on the boat for another 4 nights then moved into a tiny Airbnb bedroom and visited the area a little. After a few days on land I realized what I had just done: I sailed across the South Atlantic and made landfall to my birthplace (I was born in Kinshasa). I gained a little more offshore sailing experience and I learned that just maybe I my be able to race offshore.
Sea sickness did affect a good part of the crew, with some not really ever recovering. I personally didn't get sea sick, which was good. I did feel queasy at times at the beginning but managed to avoid the worse by moving quickly in and out of my bunk and minimizing time under.
The presence of Clipper in any town is an important event; it's marketed everywhere with road signs and everything. If you're inclined to you could feel like a rock star with all the folks coming to see what everything's about or addressing you on the street with questions because they recognized the Clipper branding on your clothing. And I guess that's part of the attraction for some. I'd rather stay out of the spotlight.
I learned that I've still got a long way to become the person I want to be (i.e. more relaxed, more apt at handling conflict). I didn't learn much on the matters of sailing. I was hoping to learn more about the finer points of trimming but honestly not much of that happened. We did adjust halyards here and there but that was it. Reflecting on racing the Clipper boats I feel like it's mostly about three things:
1. Sail the shortest path, unless a major reason commands a deviation;
2. Don't fuck it up (i.e. spinnaker wrap, sail in the water, things/people breakage, etc);
3. Have the correct sails up and check trim regularly.
This is all best achieved when the crew is positive about their environment. I think actively engaging in complimenting, supporting, encouraging is half the battle.
One thing that is certain is that everybody will have a different experience. With so limited real estate and such intensity the three important things are: "personalities, personalities, personalities".
Here's my position on Clipper's proposal: none else offers you a sailing adventure around the world. If that's your goal do it as it's probably the best way to go about it. If you'd rather gain offshore sailing/racing experience there are better and cheaper alternatives out there, as I found out a little too late, although very few of these truly involve crossing oceans.
So what's next ... I did have a short conversation with skipper in Cape Town and I'm mildly hopeful that things will improve come March next year. For sure I won't let things carry on as I did this time around. I'm unlikely to be in an assistant watch leader position again so I'll be able to "just crew" and do my thing (vs bearing responsibility for the crew's mechanics).
I need to visit Double Espresso, bring back my repaired #3, go for a sail and debate on buying a new #3. I need to start practicing hoisting, trimming and dousing the spinnaker in breeze over ten knots. I still need a life raft.
I do like to be offshore; it so simplifies life. I'm already thinking about what will come after the SHTP 2018. Sailing solo around the world is tentatively on my bucket list. I'd like to do it in less than 6 months if possible, which defines what boat I can do it with. In fact if you think you could recommend a boat for this purpose (I was told a Class40) I'm all ears, preferably using PMs (I have not committed to this yet so I don't want to spoil this thread
I have not allocated a budget yet either. I'm still unemployed ...
Questions about my Clipper adventure? I'd be happy to answer ...