Windhorse Sailing

Day: 7
Position:  45.18 South  64.41 West
Airtemp:  48F
Heading:  SW
Weather:  Cloudy, wind NNE
Seas:  4′ Northerly

As stated in the Patagonia and Tierra Del Fuego Nautical Guide:  “The route between Rio De La Plata and Cabo San Diego, the SE extremity of the continent, is considered, without exaggeration, one of the toughest a yacht is likely to meet. A long record of wrecks, accidents and misfortunes, amplified by time, could not but strengthen the discomfort sailors feel leaving Mar Del Plata.”

After making almost no ground for 48 hours and taking quite a beating in the southerly gale Luke described yesterday Shangri-la is again pointed south and making great speed.  We are gently rolling dead downwind with full main and poled out jib averaging 7.5 knots and Luke and I are all smiles.  But a smile would have been hard to find as recently as yesterday.

I have been trying to quell something I’ve yet to experience in almost 40,000 miles at sea on Saoirse, my own yacht which we’ve sailed throughout the Pacific over the past 6 years, nor commercial fishing in the Bering sea, nor on various other sail and motor vessels in all kinds of heinous conditions over the years:  sea sickness.  I always thought I was immune and while wholly sympathetic to those who suffer I never really understood what they felt, and how debilitating it could be.

This isn’t the puke your guts out, turn green, want to die sea sickness that I’ve seen many times in others, but a general sense of unease and lack of ability, or I guess desire, to do anything at all. If sea sickness stems from a mental rather than physical nature, as I’ve always presumed then possibly the above quote is why I cannot loosen the knot in my stomach.

I’d like to think it’s just getting used the motion of a different yacht, or maybe it’s because I’m crew instead of Captain and can afford the luxury of letting someone else do the lion’s share of the work.  Maybe I’ve always had the tendency but when you’re a Captain and responsible for others, getting seasick isn’t an option and thus have somehow mentally fought it off.  Time will tell and hopefully this sense of unease will pass but I can say that after our battle with the gale I am much more confident than I was in two very critical things of which the success of this expedition hinge.

The first is our vessel. Shangri-la has proven herself a remarkably able and strong ship.  Her wind vane steers in the most challenging of conditions perfectly, allowing her crew ample time for sleep and rest, which are critical components of safety when shorthanded as we are.  Her rig is solid, her sails well balanced, her hull capable of withstanding a hell of a bashing.  She is easy to handle, easy to reduce sail, and quick to alert us to her needs, which are few.  While we are likely to experience at least one more full gale or storm on our route south I am supremely confident in our vessel and her ability to weather what is to come.

The second is my captain, Luke.  It was exactly this time last year that Luke and Francis hatched the idea of sailing around the Horn while sailing with Jody (my girlfriend) and I in Fiji.  We were in very different roles back then.  I his captain, he my client, and sailing in the southern ocean a world away.  To be honest, I never really took their idea very seriously.

To purchase and equip a yacht, find crew, learn all that is required to sail around the Horn, and do it in a year- a very daunting task to say the least.  It seemed nothing more than an ill-thought-out dream that sounded rather dubious at best while gunk holing around paradise.  We entertained their plans and gave encouragement where needed, but I never thought it possible that he would get this far.

Luke returned to Saoirse later in the year to take part in his first offshore passage from the Solomons to Darwin.  He proved an excellent student, capable sailor, and remained ever positive to move forward with his dream.   He has worked tirelessly, against a mountain of hurdles and yet he still climbs.  His resolution to complete this journey against such inevitable adversity is simply remarkable.  I don’t think either of us would have ever imagined our current reality.  He my Captain, I his crew, sailing around the Horn together, both fulfilling dreams that are difficult to define, and harder to justify. 

And, here we are, and for the past week, one of the toughest I’ve had at sea Luke has proved that Captain’s shoes are anything but too big.  I am enormously proud of my once-student and can only be thankful my first trip around the Horn will be with someone so capable.

Gavin McClurg, heading for Port Deseado, the last safe haven before the long push to the cape.