The Bluest Blue

The bluest blue

One would think that blue is blue, and the sea is obviously blue. But you would be surprised, once you?ve sailed half way around the world, that the sea could be the most varying different shades of blue and green and black or metallic silver, and even variations of brown? Yes, I have now sailed over twenty thousand sea miles from London and have crossed four oceans (the North Atlantic, South Atlantic, Southern ocean, Indian ocean, and currently on route to crossing the Asia Pacific Ocean).  We?ve completed four legs and seven races (including the Rolex Sydney to Hobart race) and the sea has been completely different in colour and of course sea state, in different places across the globe so far. But it?s the colour of the sea that most intrigues me.  And the most beautiful to me is the deep blue, the bluest blue, of the Southern Ocean on a bitterly cold, sunny day.

On the first leg, sailing through the Doldrums and crossing the Equator (becoming a fully fledged shellback) the sea had an aqua marine colour in places and was as warm as 25 to 30 degrees. There were parts of the trade winds route that provided a deep purpely, almost violet blue sea.

Flying our kites and surfing down the front of deep rolling swells across the South Atlantic on leg two from Rio to Cape Town was another deep blue experience. We spent many hours watching the awesome waves and the Albatrosses glide over the steel blue surfaces.

Leg three was my favourite blue leg ? the sea of the Southern Ocean and the infamous Roaring Fourties, is a royal, electric, somewhat fluorescent and inky blue. My limited set of adjectives can?t describe it, but I can tell you that if you haven?t sailed this icy deep ocean, you cannot understand how blue this blue can be! 

Contrasting the indigo blue the Southern Ocean of course also provided the most intense 120 knots gale force storms we encountered thus far. This blue was ferocious and wild, foamy grey in its unforgiving coldness in both the height of the waves, as well as in the bucket loads it served up over us on deck. 

The race from Albany to Sydney was a figurative blue as I mourned the death of my father and missed the calming and restorative power of the ocean. But the Rolex Sydney to Hobart, and the route back up to Brisbane didn?t disappoint in its true Ocker Aussie blue.

We are now on leg five of our race, having sailed the tough beat up north past the Gold Coast and Northern Territories of Australia, and feeling the heat of the tropical Pacific Doldrums north of Papua New Guinea (I am still humbled and stunned that I am actually sailing this Bismarck sea past live volcanic islands and remote little communities). The seas here vary from a sapphire blue to a strange light green, to slate grey under the squally skies. 

The blues sometimes match my moods - sometimes dragging me a bit down, and sometimes lift them -  but mostly they inspire and amaze me. The crystal aquamarine when the light shines through a breaking wave at the bow, moonlight playing on the blue-black surfaces, the hues of the seas blending into the skies, or other colours reflecting in rainbow shades at every sunrise, or the gods? fingers contrasting through dark rain clouds at sunset... this beauty of the blues at sea still takes my breath away.