Roaring Forties part deux
Clark April 23rd, 2007
April 23, 2007
44º00′ South, 75º00′ West (even numbers)
Underway, near Isla Guafo
Still getting my ass kicked in the Roaring Forties, but with three of my limbs clinging to the boat and one hand typing I can write.
It’s rough as guts out here. The wind is only averaging about thirty-five, which is OK, but the seas are huge and confused and never seem to let up. At least the wind is coming from the right direction and I’m making good time. I’ve got the boat in full combat mode, where everything that isn’t already screwed down or glued down is now tied down, strapped down, or put away…prepared for a knock-down, but haven’t even been close yet. It’s fatiguing and frustrating. Everything takes ten times as long to do, or can’t be done at all, because of the violent motion. The least motion is lying on the floor in the main cabin, but even there I have to brace myself. No, I’m not having fun at the moment.
Yesterday was a bizarre day, also rough and frustrating. I saw some wandering albatrosses. I didn’t know they came this far north, but with a wingspan wider than the boat, they’re always impressive. Then this school of dolphins came around and just started doing weird things. They were all throwing themselves out of the water at odd angles, doing full gainers and landing on their tails, like they’d all gone nuts. Never seen them behave like that before. I got it on film. Then I spotted this thing behind me. It was hard to gauge how far away it was, and looking through the binoculars just made me seasick after while. It looked like a sportfisher with a tuna tower, and that’s what I would have said it was if I were in Southern California, but there wouldn’t be any boat like that here. Of course once I knew this thing was there I couldn’t go below or relax, for fear of colliding with it. This went on for several hours, with the thing staying roughly behind me, meaning it was following me.
It turns out it was a submarine, cruising along with its turret, or whatever you call it, above water and most of the body not visible. It headed toward the channels, so I’m guessing the Chileans have a sub, and were probably tracking me as some exercise.
Needless to say I got no sleep during the day or night. I’ve been setting the alarm for fifteen minute intervals, as solo sailors supposedly do, but I couldn’t have slept more than twenty minutes night before last. So, since the wind came around northwest, and since Isla Guamblin looked a likely candidate, lying far offshore all on its own, I went there seeking shelter. It was the worst anchorage imaginable, but I did anchor the boat for a few hours and got some uninterrupted sleep. Now I’ve been at it all day, pounding along under a small jib and mizzen. If I keep up this pace I should get to Valdivia in two or three days, but the wind never holds for that long.
No comments yet.