Leg Five - The Least Popular by far!

Written onboard: Monday, 27th January

When we talk about sailing around the world, romantic visions of far away lands and blue oceans might evoke feelings of envy of the current adventure we are experiencing. But I'd like to provide a small insight into our lives on the boat on this leg of the race from Brisbane to Singapore - a full four weeks at sea! It definitely is all but glamorous! (And please take note: I am not whingeing, merely explaining what we are going through.) 

To say that I am not enjoying this leg at all is an understatement. We Round-the-Worlders have agreed that it is the worst leg of all those we have completed thus far. The heat is overpowering, and then there is the constant beating into the wind, the crashing down of the bow over the stormy waves, the severe angle we have to try and move around in, the heat, the humidity, everything being damp, frustratingly calm wind holes and drenching squalls, and did I mention the heat?! You constantly feel like your skin is turning inside out as the sweat just oozes from you. You are forever dehydrated and probably the worst part is that we are all getting heat rashes - some worse than others - because of the constant dampness and heat. Sailors endearingly call it yachty-bottie; not very charming at all! This is a very severe form of heat rash that presents itself in an acne-like appearance starting with your butt and then your legs and all over your body.  Very painful, itchy and horrible!

Going on deck is a decision of whether to sacrifice getting wet from a wave pouring buckets of water over you, or wearing your foul weather gear but then being over heated and worsening the heat rash. There is no escaping it, and nothing seems to really help much.

We are all mentioning body odour (BO) to each other because this would have to be the longest most of us have ever been without a shower. Doing a wet-wipe shower just isn't enough, and you mostly feel that it is not worth the bother because by the time you have cleaned yourself you are sweating so much from the exertion merely trying to keep yourself standing while doing it. Any back of the boat showers are impossible in this sea state, so we are just tolerating our own and others' human smells. There is no shaving, we are all rather sunburnt, we all have oily, sun-bleached hair or dreadlocks starting to form for the longhaired amongst us, and bruises all over our legs and arms. 

photos taken in dock at Sydney Harbour

Getting anything done, even walking around the galley counter to get milk from the fridge is just too hard. One hand is always somewhere on the boat because the 45 degree angle is so exhausting to move/climb around in and you are constantly in danger of falling or getting hurt. We are also getting accustomed to the motion of the boat when you can feel the bow moving up, float weightlessly for a second, and then it seems everything and everyone braces themselves for the crash down. The bang smashes relentlessly through the boat and one's body, and everything seems to dislodge itself as items become airborne or liquids spill everywhere. Being on mother watch (cooking for the crew for the whole day) is particularly challenging and an OH&S nightmare when working with boiling water and sharp objects.

Because the boat is bending, moving and twisting so much, leaks are occurring and cubbies are getting full of water, and paper or cardboard items are all damp. I was sitting on deck the other day when a Wilbur Smith novel came flying out from below deck and whirled overboard rendered soaked and illegible. A little over halfway through this race we have now run out of fresh fruit and vegetables, and the last few onions and cabbages have rotted in the storage space leaving a putrid smell hard to get rid of. 

With the boat beating on and heeling over at a severe angle in these conditions, you can imagine how excruciating this is to pay a necessary visit to the heads (no matter what the circumstances, when nature calls one has to answer)! I have considered not eating or drinking to minimize having to go through the humiliation and struggle of trying to stay on the toilet seat, wiping yourself, getting your pants up, and not falling through the canvas curtain every time the boat smashes down.  Oh yes, and then there is the anxiety of trying to 'flush' by pumping as much as you can to empty the bowl and ensuring all doesn't bubble back up again! One of the crew members had a rather uneasy and distressed look on his face while he wondered out loud if anyone would be upset if he did his business from the back of the boat as the sailors of old used to do. That was frowned upon and he was forced to face the small cubicle of horror.

But after offloading all of that I have to tell you that if I had a choice again, knowing what I know now, I would again choose to do this damn race around the world.  One would sometimes see a crewmember throw a tantrum or utter a loud exclamations of not ever going sailing again - especially not ocean racing! But as with everything in life - negative and positive - this too will pass, and I know that I will, in a year's time, yearn to be on this boat somewhere in the ocean close to Palau. I'm still loving being right here in this moment and experiencing an incredible journey.