My night watch was 12 to 3 AM. I started early as the winds had picked up. The winds averaged around 17 knots with the occasional gust at 21 knots. At 11:30 PM we had taken the spinnaker down and hoisted the number two genoa and raised the main fully. This created a wedge wing and we increased our speed. We were all buckled in and Greg and Yves went forward to tie the right sheets. I tried to help by pulling the sheets from the cockpit. All went well.
Greg offered to let me start later but after contemplating this i turned him down - why should i get more sleep than the others?
I started my shift and got the blog caught up. The night was cloudier and the noise of the boat louder as we crashed through the waves. I watched a movie (Safe House). With no light to give reference I had to occasionally stop the movie as it felt like we were hurtling through the ocean at light speed. The boat would dip deeply starboard and it I would reach out to steady myself.
I tried to sleep as the boat crashed through the waves and the sound of the now active aqua generator (a propeller turbine towed in the water behind the boat to generate electricity) was humming away keeping me up. Finally I fell asleep.
I awoke at 9 AM and Yves was finally asleep and Greg was up. I got up and made coffee for us. The winds had picked up to the 20 - 24 knot speeds. We were making 'about 6 knots speed.
We hit 25 knots and a cross wind dipped our bow under the water. Yves woke up and in a few minutes we were reefing sails taking the main sail down half way. Again Greg and Yves were harnessed in working the bow topside and I manned the sheets from the cockpit.
Making coffee, eating breakfast, and going to the bathroom are now very exciting events that are carefully carried out.
The wind had picked up again and the swells are 4 feet or so (measured from the mid point as that is 4 feet above the ocean leaving another 4 feet to dip into the swell). On the one hand it is exhhilerating but I also Question the sanity of my deciscion to do this adventure. Yves is manning the helm as the autopilot reacts only to course adjustments while he can do that as well as keep the boat's sails in the right location and try and manage the swells. I don't know how long he can keep this up and wonder if Greg and I will be doing this as well. We just surfed a waves at 11 knots. The winds are expected to increase to 30+ knots tonight and I am on the 3 AM watch.... Exciting stuff!
At least I haven't been sea sick... So far!
By 3 PM the winds have reached 30 knots and up to 35 knots. The swells are over 12 feet (that is 6 feet up the wave and another 6 at the bottom). Greg and Yves have been alternating shifts at the helm at about an hour at a time. I can see how exhausting it is, but I don't have the experience to take this task on. I decide to cheerlead and keep their spirits up. I also make snacks and even cook spaghetti for dinner (well actually just heat it up on the stove - but is in F7 winds so I feel I can brag about something).
At 6 pm Yves and I check the hatches for water. We are swimming in it. The engine shaft has at least 4 inches and we pump that out. The bilge in the bathroom is overflowing and we pump that out. We feel drier now.
At 6:30 Greg notices water coming up from the dining table area. We pul back the engine manifold cover and see 6 inches of water. We call Yves and hit the bilge pump. We then start pulling the floor boards out frantically searching for more water and the source. The shaft area is full again and we pump. We pull the floor boards beside the manifold are shocked and distressed to see the battery compartments half full (water over the battery would short the entire electrical system and that would be a big problem). We hand pump the water out and are frantically clearing the area.
Yves and Greg have switched so Greg is at the helm and Yves and I are doing water duty. We think we have isolated the issue to the drive shaft. The speed of the boat through the water under sail is pulling the propeller housing back versus pushing when in use. This is causing a gap in the housing allowing for water to enter. Yves gets to work tightening the shaft and locking the propeller (we can't use the engine unless Yves open the engine compartiment and switches the lock off - therefore we have no engine if we need one quickly). We finally get the boat pretty dry and feel like we have stopped the influx.
Somewhere along the way at this time we lost power to the fresh water pump. Another thing to worry about.
At 20:30 we make a decision to "hove to" where Yves went out in the thrashing sea and tied the main sail down to 3 reaves and had the genoa balanced against the wind and using the keel to balance against the waves resulting in us bobbing up and down without moving in the Gail (F7 winds are a moderate gail). This was based on the fact that we were tired, had no bearing for the helm to maintain course in the dark, and Yves said it was the prudent choice We hunkered down for the night with Yves on 1st watch.
Visions of Coast Guard sea rescues flash through my head - the helicopters air lifting passengers off boats in the middle of a hurricane. I quickly do calculations in my head and think we are too far for them to fly from a land base. No need to worry I keep saying to myself.
I will never need to go on another roller coaster ride again after that experience. I fell asleep fairly quickly and was snoring soundly (according to Greg).