Henrik Masekowitz with the remains of the gennaker
Henrik Masekowitz writes:
I see a light, something like brightness after days of darkness, after rain, fog and wind.
But first things first: Five days ago I was still full of anticipation to finally be able to turn on a south-easterly course. That was the case and since then we have been in an air current between the strong high northeast and a low southwest of us. It's going down south. Perhaps the best way to notice this is that the temperatures drop significantly. I am now wearing fleece and long underwear again. Cheers to Musto, body heat dries this stuff. However, and that makes life much more uncomfortable, it is also miserably damp on deck, below deck, everything gets damp and every drop has to be wiped away. Nothing dries by itself anymore. In addition, a mixture of persistent gusty wind with its twists and downpours. So hot wasn't that nice, but this isn't that much better.
Masekowitz on the 3rd Advent with cookies and family photo
As I said, the joy was great and actually I have to be very satisfied, as my strategy worked well to get us into position close to the St. Helena high so that we can turn off as quickly as possible. Above all, that helped me to set up my own weather system for my competitor Joe, which he can now only look after.
However, life on board is now difficult. In addition, my moral condition has suffered a bit in the last few days. I learned that both children at home with a fever cannot go to school or kiteboarding. With something like that I always suffer a lot and wonder whether I have not thrown myself into my adventure a little too carelessly in my responsibility to the family.
Anyway, the road is bumpy, even the one to the southeast. There is a completely confused sea here. The waves build up to medium-sized castles every now and then. A turret wouldn't be so bad, but locks are too many for even the most powerful autopilot. I'm trying to find a trim where I can get at least an hour's rest. Working outside now always means first two layers of clothes, boots, gloves and then out into the more or less salty rain that sweeps over the boat. Head out, shower, wet hair and so on, every time.
Then, in a moment of deceptive calm, lying below deck without clothes, he came, the evil Rasmus. He came on deck, looked around, and took the gennaker. Not as a whole and perhaps one could have discussed again, no, he let the leeches stand, his head hanging up. He didn't like the rest of it and threw it under the boat. I was frustrated, profoundly. That was it? Cape Town and end-of-over !? Then I continued once (a few days) under Code 0 (Genoa) and 2. Reff in the large. Brooding, sleeping, talking on the phone.
Well then, I'm still driving. The choice of course is somewhat limited, but at least I won't need the gennaker down here to Cape Horn anyway. Cheer up, open your eyes. Defensive - don't risk anything!
Yesterday, December 13th, it was the third Advent and I was at sea for exactly one month. I try to enjoy the day with homemade cookies from the surprise box and a cup of coffee. We are just passing the small group of islands Tristan dCunhim in the South Atlantic. Course still southeast - just not too close, I think. There are tons of seamountains on the map. The depth then jumps from around 4000 to less than 100 meters. That promises unpredictable waves and currents. The weather is still fine for me. However, when it comes to my long-term strategy, it will be clearly tight. Due to my somewhat limited speed in the last few days, I am now very close to the expanding high west of the archipelago. I'm trying to stay north as long as possible and escape the low wind high with the remaining 15 knots of airflow. Or at least work out a small head start.