Hello friends, Day xyz… Whoever you ask, nobody in the team knows the date, the day of the race or the time of day. We live in our little world of twelve square meters with five men
With a speed of up to 25 knots, the Open 60 is on course
So now we are - as expected, far north on the Great Banks. Two days ago we longed for a bit of coolness, now my fingers are almost too stiff to type from the cold. Cascades of spray hit the cockpit roof and flood the stern. We watch under our roof, constantly looking back, into the sight of white mist, a bright nothingness, interrupted by cascades of gas.
It's this thin cold water mist only on the ground. You can sense the sun very well, a diffuse, glaring white light, like on a mountain top while skiing.
We have a match. "Varuna" is a fixed reference for us, almost the most important one. Thanks to them, it really feels like a real regattan.
Without "Varuna", I would have been much more relaxed about having been forced to avoid an oil rig earlier. That explains that spike in our course line on the tracker. We didn't quite make it to windward, so we had to jibe, a major loss of ten miles.
According to Race-Tracker, "Malizia" has currently overtaken competitor "Varuna"
It mostly goes ahead of the wind. If the angles to the wind were more acute, I think we could pass "Varuna". But of course we don't know the potential of the enemy ship, we can only speculate and of course we have hope of finding our chance somewhere. However, the forecast does not look advantageous for us: everything is VMG running, i.e. cruising in front of the wind, so to speak. Conditions that you would normally be happy about, but we are pretty much equally fast on this course - or "Varuna" has a bit of an advantage.
Within 24 hours it went from barefoot and shorts to sleeping bag and hat, from 33 degrees to 9 degrees water temperature. Icebergs swim only 150 nautical miles, i.e. ten hours away.
Our German team is doing well, walking leisurely, you could also say stoically, following their rhythm and submitting to the conditions, the rough movements, the penetrating damp cold. There were two falls below deck with minor scratches and one small cut - a warning to always hold on to. This abrupt stop in a wave can happen at any time.
We often see 25 knots on the speedometer. As I try to fall asleep, I think of a video by Alex Thomson in which he talks about the "Mighty Bang". I hope this infamous blow, which we somehow always dread, never comes. A piece of wood, a fish, a tree trunk …
Routine has returned on board, everyone goes about their business
"Rambler" is a major loss for the race. The crew and owners were well prepared and invested a lot. It is very unfair to see the flagship of this race retired so early due to debris and rudder damage.
You live intensely, but it is the lack of irritation that characterizes the day. One thinks how the other ships are doing, which sail "Varuna" is using, what is the mood on "Dantes" and "High Yield" and on "Red". We know many of the others very well, and one would love to take a look at their cockpit.
To be cut off in these times is strange. What is the world news doing? Trump and NATO? We asked a friend in Hamburg to send us at least the minimum, a few headlines once a day. Otherwise one begins to wonder whether there is even a world beyond this thick fog outside.
Small refreshments in between
Speaking of which, the strict instruction to avoid the oil platform came from a woman's voice. What is it that ended up 300 miles from Newfoundland in the eternal ice and fog?
Currently a small Gennaker C6 and a large reef - keeps sending us good winds!