Dedicating this race to my father - Hendrik Stephanus Stroh 1935 - 2013

Like a potter my dad molded my young mind when he kneaded my basic values into my make up as a person. With his strong hands he folded into my clay body my integrity, honesty and gratitude. My dad was the one who taught me to never give up, and to complete everything I started with all the energy and power within me. He opened my mind irreversibly and made me question everything to the point of total irritation to all the people close to me. I can blame him for my obstinacy and cynicism, but I can also thank him for my unstoppable perseverance and strength. Like a good potter he hardened me up in a kiln of fatherly fire, and never let me get away with mediocrity. He glazed me with colour and brought out the poet and artist I sometimes can be.

My fondest memories of my father are the bedtime stories he used to tell of his hunting and wild life warden days, and all the beautiful books he read to us. He taught my brother and I, and our extended family,  all about the African veld and animals. He was a true romantic and I admired the way he loved, adored and spoiled my mother. 

He was an example of excellent corporate work ethics and calm worldly wisdom. I always knew I could rely on him for advice and support in all financial, spiritual and career decisions – he was always there for me. Always.

I am so lucky that this wonderful man was a part of my life for 50 years. I am sad that I won’t be able to do the Albany to Sydney race as part of my journey around the world, but will go back ‘home’ to celebrate his illustrious life with my family before I join again to do the Sydney to Hobart yacht race, and continue and complete what I have started.

I dedicate the race to my father and will smile every time I tenaciously carry on when I feel like quitting if things are tough, because that is how he proudly sculpted me.

I’ll always walk in his footsteps, be guided by his words, love as he loved, live a full life, and be protected by his ever present spirit.

Thanks Dad!

Lief vir jou Pappa. Van jou Doggie



In the words of my father’s favourite song popularized by Frank Sinatra and written by Paul Anka:

I've lived a life that's full
I traveled each and ev'ry highway
And more, much more than this, I did it my way

Regrets, I've had a few
But then again, too few to mention
I did what I had to do , I saw it through without exemption
I planned each charted course, each careful step along the highway
And more, much more than this, I did it my way

I've loved, I've laughed and cried
I've had my fill, my share of losing
And now, as tears subside, I find it all so amusing
To think I did all that
And may I say, not in a shy way,
"Oh, no, oh, no, not me, I did it my way"

For what is a man, what has he got?
If not himself, then he has naught
The right to say the things he feels and not the words of one who kneels
The record shows I took the blows and did it my way!

Like a potter my dad molded my young mind when he kneaded my basic values into my make up as a person. With his strong hands he folded into my clay body my integrity, honesty and gratitude. My dad was the one who taught me to never give up, and to complete everything I started with all the energy and power within me. He opened my mind irreversibly and made me question everything to the point of total irritation to all the people close to me. I can blame him for my obstinacy and cynicism, but I can also thank him for my unstoppable perseverance and strength. Like a good potter he hardened me up in a kiln of fatherly fire, and never let me get away with mediocrity. He glazed me with colour and brought out the poet and artist I sometimes can be. 

My fondest memories of my father are the bedtime stories he used to tell of his hunting and wild life warden days, and all the beautiful books he read to us. He was a true romantic and I admired the way he loved, adored and spoiled my mother.  He was an example of excellent corporate work ethics and calm worldly wisdom. I always knew I could rely on him for advice and support in all financial, spiritual and career decisions – he was always there for me. Always.

I am so lucky that this wonderful man was a part of my life for 50 years. I am sad that I won’t be able to do the Albany to Sydney race as part of my journey around the world, but will go back ‘home’ to celebrate his illustrious life with my family before I join again to do the Sydney to Hobart yacht race, and continue and complete what I have started.

I dedicate the race to my father and will smile every time I obstinately carry on when I feel like quitting if things are tough, because that is how he sculpted me.

I’ll always walk in his footsteps, be guided by his words, love as he loved, and be protected by his ever present spirit.

Thanks Dad!

Lief vir jou Pappa. Van jou Doggie

In the words of my father’s favourite song popularized by Frank Sinatra and written by Paul Anka:

I've lived a life that's full

I traveled each and ev'ry highway

And more, much more than this, I did it my way

Regrets, I've had a few

But then again, too few to mention

I did what I had to do , I saw it through without exemption

I planned each charted course, each careful step along the highway

And more, much more than this, I did it my way

I've loved, I've laughed and cried

I've had my fill, my share of losing

And now, as tears subside, I find it all so amusing

To think I did all that

And may I say, not in a shy way,

"Oh, no, oh, no, not me, I did it my way"

For what is a man, what has he got?

If not himself, then he has naught

The right to say the things he feels and not the words of one who kneels

The record shows I took the blows and did it my way!

Mindlessness

There are many ways to 'commit suicide'. When the pain of life becomes unbearable many people choose to end their lives, or some become vagrants or vagabonds, or maybe they retreat into a monastery or ashram. At times a weary soul needs to step out of reality and become mindless.

Mindlessness is a beautiful state where you forget what day it is, you don't have any concept of what is going on in the media, no endless list of emails to go through, no traffic to contend with, no intellectual challenges, no idea of what is going wrong in your bank account, no shopping to do, no mobile phones, and no relationship ‪issues to have to manage. Your mind is consumed by the absolute basics of life: the next meal, toilet needs, basic hygiene, core chores, and staying safe, warm and dry. Raw survival. That is what many people crave when they don't have it in them any longer to cope with their lives and decide to end it.

Mindlessness provides space for nothingness - an opportunity to grieve, regroup, rethink, redefine, gather yourself or simply just be. A moment in time to create an emptiness where you can walk through the bare rooms of your vulnerability, draw the curtains, let the sun in and enjoy the warmth of the light. Minimalism provides room for a spiritual connection to your very being and helps you face the pains and sorrows in a much more comfortable way.

This is what this race is to me - a year to stop my crazy world, get off, go around it, and then I might have the courage to get on it again. All I need to worry about is how to tie a knot, coil a sheet, getting up and dressed on time for my watch at 3am, making sure the spinnaker sail doesn't collapse, cooking for twenty every ten days, and ignoring the people who might have the ability to upset me. Apart from these types of very mindless basics I find peace in the big blue noise of the waves, the light playing catchup with the water, watching the birds fly for hours on end, and sharing jokes and chatting about trivialities to my crew mates. Nothing is really important nor stressful. There is quiet and calm, even in the middle of the most ferocious storm.

This race is my year to take breaths as deep as the oceans I sail, fill my soul with crystal clear air, and know that I will be happier and more alive than I've ever been. I can leave bits of my pain in the wake of the boat and give up everything that ever attached me to any broken dreams. Detachment frees an exhausted spirit.

Every person owes it to themselves to find their mindlessness. This doesn't look like anything specific - it could be the simplest of actions or inaction - going for a walk, doing a yoga class, just sitting in your favourite spot for hours, or taking a road trip. Just being in whatever way you want to be. Creating a state of nothingness and space is the best way to 'commit suicide'. Nothing else matters and you ironically really start living.

Going, going...

If you can imagine yourself on a boat like this one I am sailing around the world on, what would you think would be one if the most valuable commodities? Water would probably rate the highest. We have a water maker on board to provide fresh water. (The water is wonderfully pure and cold as it comes directly from the 13 degree C sea.) Of course fuel and battery power is very high on the list.

Apart from that it seems that food, but more specifically snacks, cause a lot of bickering, especially when people steal the snacks from the collective storage, or when they take anything from the opposite watch's snack box! Probably not important, but certainly valued.

But today we have now realised that one of the most sought after commodities is toilet paper!!!!

This is a long leg - not as long as leg one, but definitely more challenging in terms of the weather and managing our resources. To stay within our budget we need to plan our food and general usage products well. It seems that we our now fast running out of stuff and have not managed all our needs and usages very well. And yes you guessed it - we realised today that we are very low on toilet paper. Bog paper is now rationed to one toilet roll per person for the rest of the race!!! So today we each got one roll in a plastic bag, and we will have to get by with that one roll until we arrive in Albany. I can just imagine how interesting things are going to become if people start taking other people's rolls - someone apparently already took two today because we were one short when they got divided up. Some have also started negotiating exchanges for Weetbix, which is down to two and a half per person per day.

Tea, Vegemite, sun glasses, sun block and lip balm seem to also rate high on the list of necessary commodities according to a quick little survey I just did. So is milk and the Skipper's cigarettes!

Watch this space on how the rations are going to go for the next few days. People are getting creative and the jokes are reaching really low and basic levels!

I am currently offering 10 Australian Dollars for a piece of chocolate! Haven't had any offers yet. I am going to buy myself a huge block of dark chocolate as soon as we get to shore!

To all our PSP supporters - keep your faith because as you can see we are slowly but surely catching up on our competitors. We still have a third of this race to complete and anything can happen. We are determined to get a high position.

Sending you all my love and miss my friends and family incredibly!

If you can imagine yourself on a boat like this one I am sailing around the
world on, what would you think would be one if the most valuable
commodities? Water would probably rate the highest. We have a water
maker on board to provide fresh water. (The water is wonderfully pure and cold
as it comes directly from the 13 degree C sea.) Of course fuel and battery power
is very high on the list.

Apart from that it seems that
food, but more specifically snacks, cause a lot of bickering, especially
when people steal the snacks from the collective storage, or when they take
anything from the opposite watch's snack box! Probably not important, but
certainly valued.

But today we have now
realised that one of the most sought after commodities is toilet paper!!!!

This is a long leg - not as long as leg one, but definitely more challenging
in terms of the weather and managing our resources. To stay within our budget
we need to plan our food and general usage products well. It seems that
we our now fast running out of stuff and have not managed all our needs and
usages very well. And yes you guessed it - we realised today that we are very
low on toilet paper. Bog paper is now
rationed to one toilet roll per person for the rest of the race!!! So today we
each got one roll in a plastic bag, and we will have to get by with that
one roll until we arrive
in Albany. I can just imagine how interesting things are going to become if
people start taking other people's rolls - someone apparently already took two
today because we were one short when they got divided up. Some have also
started negotiating exchanges for Weetbix, which is down to two and a half per
person per day.

Tea, Vegemite, sun glasses, sun block and lip balm seem to also rate high on the
list of necessary commodities according to a quick little survey I just did. So
is milk and the Skipper's cigarettes!

Watch this space on how the rations are going to go for the next few days.
People are getting creative and the jokes are reaching really low and basic
levels!

I am
currently offering 10 Australian Dollars for a piece of chocolate! Haven't had
any offers yet. I am going to buy myself a huge block of dark chocolate as soon
as we get to shore!

To all our PSP supporters - keep your faith because as you can see we are slowly
but surely catching up on our competitors. We still have a third of this race to
complete and anything can happen. We are determined to get a high position.

Sending you all my love and miss my friends and family incredibly!

The Roaring Forties

A day like we experienced yesterday was an example of how challenging this leg of the race has been so far: we prepared for a predicted 40 knots wind storm, which started on our watch at seven in the morning. The morning ended up giving us over 80 knots of wind and the gusts apparently went over 115 knots!!!! The swell was enormous, we had hail, (the previous day we even had some snow), rain coming horizontally at us, the noise was overwhelming, and the bashing about on the deck was just crazy! At some point we had to move to the foredeck to bring down the stay sail, moving about being clipped on all the time. But my fingers were so frozen that clipping and unclipping as I had to crawl forward was painful. At times the waves would totally lift you up and bash you back down on the hard surface again, and as the bow moved through the waves we got submerged to the core. The force of nature was overwhelming and humbling.

Taken from PSP Logistics Skipper's Reports

Most of the time we would sit on the deck (we always need a minimum of four people on deck, so we take 30 minute turns to defrost below deck) in the icy cold wind and rain, with waves being dumped on us every couple of minutes, and the wetness creeps into every little fold of your clothing. The foul weather gear can only keep so much out, and no pair of gloves or seal skin socks are proving to be water proof. So after each watch you just get out of your wet gear, get into your damp sleeping bag and hope that your base layers dry out a bit (but inevitably they don't), and then you get up 3 hours later to put your soaked gear on again.

During the storm I got hurt quite badly - second time on this leg. The first time I fell backwards three metres while trying to climb to the high side of the boat during a storm, bashed my head and landed with my neck rather twisted. I had a very slight concussion and a stiff neck for a few days. Yesterday a big wave threw a few of us onto each other and through the air with me being crushed between a fellow crew member and the winch. I was totally winded and got my ribs badly bruised.  I came off lightly so far - some people on other boats have broken their collar bones, ribs and other serious injuries. The Southern Ocean and Roaring Forties are living up to the reputation of being brutal. No pleasure cruise this!

But through it all I will still describe this experience as awesome! Looking at those angry waves, hearing the wind howl with such fierce force, watching the albatrosses gracefully glide, feeling the clean crisp air on your skin, tasting the salt on your lips, the sun on the bluest sea, the full moon reflect on the water, and a warm voice ask if you're okay, makes this worth it (even though I do have to admit that I constantly question my own sanity!). To experience such extremes makes you feel completely alive. Surely that is the meaning of life!

I can't believe we are almost done with the first leg - it has been an experience so far!

The short race to, and stop over in Brest was a good introduction, but it is

almost a very distant memory now. This race - the 4500 sea miles so far - has

been full of highlights and incredible experiences. The most memorable for me has

been the encounters with wildlife: we've seen dolphins playing around the boat -

different types. Before the doldrums they were smaller and stubby with yellow

whitish bellies, and they moved extremely fast through the water. Sometimes two

or more of them would swim together and change direction in an instant, as if

they are in telepathic sync. They would jump and frolic around the bow and we

were sure they were looking at us while showing off in perfect performance. The

past couple of days - this side of the equator, they were slightly larger and

grey bellies - doing back roles to our delight. The guys were making fun of me

because I would get into a complete exhilaration state and forget everything

around me in awe of these creatures.

The whales are also a sight to see: a couple of weeks ago a Minkey whale

(spelling) followed us for miles and then swam gracefully around the bowsprit

before she decided to find a new play friend. Yesterday wee almost bumped into a

huge mother and calf right next to the boat - I am sure she was around two thirds

of the length of the boat. It could be quite a disaster if we do happen to crash

into a large whale, so we are on constant lookout.

Night time is an issue in terms of the whales, but we just hope they'll get out

of our way. There are other wonderful sights at night: the phosphorescence in the

wake of the boat amazes me every night. Sometimes big blobs of florescent green

jelly fish go past like watery street lights guiding our journey. And then, in

the full moonlight it is amazing to firstly hear their blow holes, but then to

watch the dolphins swim around right below us.

We've had beautiful sea birds fly around the boat because fish get stirred up by

the vessel and provide a welcome easy catch. A couple of exhausted and lost

swallows landed on the boat but we found the one dead on the deck the next

morning, and the other almost got trampled on while we were scurrying around in a

squall.

Flying fish are probably the most curious creatures we've seen so far. They fly

over the waves for almost 50 meters sometimes, and many have landed on the deck

or even through a port hole on the skipper's bed! These evolutionary curiosities

provide good entertainment for us rail side sitters.

We've even had a couple of butterflies in the middle of the ocean that probably

got swept along with winds from the coast.

Apart from the wildlife highlights there are many others to share, like the

beautiful fresh bread every day!!! More about this and other daily trivia of life

on the boat when I chat again.

Please follow our race and the skipper and crew blogs through our website. I will

be in more regular contact soon.

Love you all and miss you heaps!

Hugs and a big sailor's kiss

Ursula xx

The Social Experiment that is Clipper Round the World

This is the hardest thing I have ever done!!! 

Even my PhD, which took me 7 years to complete and was probably the loneliest and most intellectually challenging project to complete, was not even a smidgeon on this bloody race! 

Apart from the sailing, which is actually probably the best part, the freezing cold of this Southern Ocean, the extreme physical challenges, difficult personal basics, militaristic watch system, wet-wet-wet and dampness of absolutely everything, and the people........!!!!!! The type of people on a race such as this are all very strong characters who have achieved a lot in their lives, and they are all very opinionated and assertive. But with this comes some weirdness as well - for loss of a better word. The amount of aggression and anger that sometimes comes out, the impatience, the irritation, the nastiness, the gossip, the pettiness, all at times really hard to handle.

This is good for me though because I need to develop a thick skin to survive this for a year! In a way this race is such a cruel social experiment to put people through. But of course there is also the other side that comes out: the kindness, the little acts of generosity, the fighting spirit, the giving, the friendship, and the humour. At times they burst out in song, tell naughty jokes, give a pat on the back, or a nice smile, and this gives you confidence in the human race!

Being a Mother

I've always wanted to be a mother, but I was never granted that privilege. Ironically though I find myself now being a 'mother' every ten days or so to 16 other crew members on this round the world yacht race!

Being on Mother Watch on an ocean racing yacht involves being on galley duty for a full day and looking after people's stomachs. This is one day where you don't get to go on deck to do any sailing, which is rather comforting when it is cold and wet outside, but I usually miss all the action on deck. Being below deck in the galley is damn hard work though (the only consolation is that mothers also don't have to do any sailing watches during the night so they get this one night to sleep right through!).

A mother watch day starts by preparing for breakfast from about 5.30am, which involves making oats porridge, getting cereals ready, and making coffee or tea. I made up a large batch of muesli for this race with some healthy seeds, rolled oats and dried fruit - it's been very popular and ensures we all get enough fibre in our systems. Some mothers attempt pancakes or pikelets, but there can be nothing too fancy at sea.

Usually the mothers on our boat choose a name for their 'cafe' with a theme for the day, and they play their favourite mood creating tunes. The hub of chatter, sharing of watch updates, weather conditions and lots of laughs, is a crucial gathering point for this little family.

The standard Clipper 70 Galley

After breakfast the mothers usually plan the meals for the day, do some cleaning duties, wash dishcloths, provide drinks and hand out some snacks. Yesterday I was on mother watch while the boat was pounding into the wind at 10 to 12 knots and at a 30 degree keel. Performing creative cooking, baking, cleaning duties at this angle is an incredible challenge. You learn to pour boiling water into coffee mugs at a very strange angle. You lean your arched body against the counter and constantly duck to dodge bowls or condiment bottles falling from the upper shelves. Mixing, pouring, serving, or dishing things out are usually done with one hand while the other holds on or stabilises objects or containers. Sometimes you feel as if things are level because you get used to the angle, until you look at the gimble of the stove hanging at its limits to realise that under normal circumstances you would actually look a bit strange standing with your groin pushed hard against the sink!

Photos from various Clipper 70 Galleys from the 13-14 race.

The crew usually appreciate your efforts mostly because they know how they've had to deal with the heat in the galley, or the constant demands for a cup of water, or the request for a cup of tea for all on deck just when you've washed your last big pot!

Bread baking has become one of the favourite and most creative activities, and the smell of freshly baked fruit loaf with cinnamon usually promises a tasty addition to our evening tea. We've had curry bread, Nutella scroll, olive and sundried tomato loaf, and every loaf is keenly devoured.

Lunch and dinners are usually one pot meals that need to be easy to cook and serve. Our boat has chosen to invest in freeze dried meals, to the dread of some of the crew, but it is convenient and nutritious. I guess we have been a bit spoiled with some delicious concoctions so these instant meals are a bit hard to stomach. But we are a racing boat crew after all, so we are slowly getting used to the taste and repetitiveness, and will probably appreciate the ease of these when we sail through the Southern and Pacific ocean in much harsher conditions.

Like the kitchen of a 'normal' family, the galley is the place of warmth, sharing, and comfort. The mother provides a climate of connection and belonging.

The best part of the day for a mother is when the final cups of tea are served and you hang the last tea towel up to dry, with half the crew happily fed on deck and the others in bed. In the red hue of the quiet galley I breath out an exhausting breath before I close up this cafe and turn in for a mother of a sleep.

Strange, but probably also wonderful, how life sometimes grants you what you wish, but in a very different format to what you ever would have thought!