I’m not sure if Donald just hit a better wind pattern or if finally emptying 400+ liters from his ballast tanks from the big storm several days ago has given Power of One some “giddyup and go,” but, despite lack of wind autopilot, Donald is definitely picking up steam. He’s done 249 nm in the past 24 hours, significantly more than his surrounding competitors. The nearest boat is 300 nm ahead, but has done 100 nm less over the past day. With possibly 8-9 days left in the race and continued winds in Donald’s favor, who knows? There are several boats banded together in the next group, so we’ll see if he can make up for that unfortunate layover in La Coruna.
Here’s an update since last evening:
“Perfect conditions for spinnaker, but resisted urge. Too much squall activity and my resources are down if there’s drama. Think I’m just going to have a cuppa (tea) some calorie snacks and sleep.”
And this morning:
“…doing well, but hard work without wind AP. Going to get some sleep.”
This afternoon:
“Been a long day, but huge progress. Unfurled gennaker at 4:30 a.m. and been flying every since. 10 -18 knots. It’s going to be a long night, so I’ll be brief, so I can get some rest and food. Heading fast in right direction. First Class 40 finished today. Amazing. Will be a record at 16 days.”
So, a quiet and fast day today. Hopefully, the favorable wind continues. It’s about time he got a break!
He seems in good spirits and sent me this photo with a message:
If I can send pics of boat damage must be able to send pic of me . Sooo missing you!!!! ️️️️️️
Possibly a little worse for wear, but not as bad as I expected and definitely in good spirits!
Always entertaining (and I think I could almost pass my sailing certification by the time this is over.) Read on:
“What a long night with little sleep. On a positive note, I think I’m getting on top of power. It’s a balancing act and the batteries are screwed from electronic guys letting them go flat (we think.) But I seem to have got Efoy working in fits and starts. And solar panels are coming into play now. So, after switching off computer monitor from time to time, I’m actually getting a net positive charge into the batteries. Tonight, it could be chaos again, but for the time being, my confidence in getting to Guadeloupe with proper power is growing. I’ve also had a vague niggle about sufficient water because of being held back by those endless headwinds, but I went into a massive rain squall earlier with one reef in and the folds of the reef must have collected 30+ liters of water. I’ve figured a way of collecting it, should it come to that. So, I’m feeling more confident all round today. Life onboard is changing quite rapidly in subtle ways. No longer am I crawling into a Goretex bivvy bag in my wet foulies (from Debra: I love that S. African expression!), with a base and mid layer underneath, then covering myself with a fleece and Goretex blanket, but now starting to take my gear off and drape the blanket over me. And finally, the wind has switched. It was a beat all night and the Gribs said I would be lifted to the point of sailing downwind. But instead, I was headed … (upwind?) The forecast was that the wind would fill in from the NW and come to me, but it clearly wasn’t, so I tacked away onto port (first time in days) and voila, two hours later, I had my wind in the middle of the rainstorm. Now averaging 10 knots and spinnaker weather, but haven’t done so with all the squalls around. And nightfall coming. So, I’m taking a measured approach. May still put up a gennaker today. Other big positive is that I’m headed directly to Guadeloupe. Yeehah! Another good thing about the brief tack onto port was that I heard schloshing around under the aft weather deck. I discovered it was full of ballast water from the night of the gale on the 15/16th. I thought I had emptied it, but was pretty out of it then and it slipped my attention. I might be wrong, but I think there are 400 liters of water in there. So, for three days, I’ve been carrying an extra 400 kg on the wrong side!! Not great sailing, but without that tack, it could have been longer. (Btw: I’ve found that in big boats traveling long distances, it doesn’t pay to put in short tacks, but this time it did, big time. I reckon I got into the wind many hours earlier by doing that). “
Okay, hopefully, he emptied those ballast tanks and is cruising along! Some of you have mentioned the website is easier to track the live progress vs. the app. For those of you who want the link, here it is:
Donald is taking a deep breath and dealing with a myriad of mechanical issues:
“… the ring attaching the staysail/storm jib furler to the tackline broke this morning, leaving me ill equipped for more high upwind sailing.
Other reasons for my jumpiness and inability to sleep last night: having trouble with power. Efoy, the methanol fuel cell system which helps charge the batteries has been going on the blink so batteries are running down quicker and requiring more regular engine charging, so fuel is a concern. Efoy device is way back in the transom, so getting there is like crawling through the stopes on the mines. I’ve made a few trips down there and discovered a faulty connection, probably corrosion. It would work for awhile and then stop. But this morning, I went in armed with rubbing alcohol and doused the plug in it. Then after giving it a hefty blow, I reconnected it and it’s been working great all day. (I didn’t mention it at the time, for fear of worrying you more, but things are quieter now and less challenging, but when I discovered it, it did rattle me somewhat. )
After that big storm, it was still bloody rough, but the wind has now moderated. I noticed that with the pounding, my Furuno GPS antenna had broken off its mounting and was hanging by its cable. While securing it, I then noticed the two front padeyes, to which the life raft was lashed, had torn out and there was nothing holding it onboard. A few more light bumps and it would have slidden off the transom. It’s slick like a piece of soap and no handles on it, so it was difficult maneuvering it under the halyard winch housing. It won’t go anywhere, but not ideal if needed urgently, which now, I think is unlikely given the road ahead. It was just another thing that added to my jangled nerves. Haha. Now that I have the power under control and there is no imminent gale, I think I’ll sleep better tonight and be a little more agreeable tomorrow. 🙂
Despite being back in beating mode with two reefs, I’m now going to have a nice cup of tea and something to eat. “
“Just something that made me chuckle. I’ve discovered I do have wind autopilot. It’s me at the navigation system looking up at the Windex (masthead unit at the top of mast) with my finger on the autopilot control panel and making direction changes. It’s quite effectively actually, but labor intensive. :)”
“The other issue to do with power is that the batteries are depleting faster than they should, which is odd because batteries are new (February.) We think it may be the electronics guys who spent a lot of time working on the boat without recharging the batteries, which could have damaged them. But with fuel cell, they’re doing okay.
My other source of angst has been that none of my mobile devices through which I do all my communications would charge with any of my countless cables (backups everywhere.) It’s the intense moisture and salt that just corrodes everything. But this morning, I hauled out the alcohol again and cleaned them all with ear buds. So I’m back in communication. With lack of sleep, all these things start to get to one.
Now, back to my cuppa tea! 🙂 🙂 :)”
My word! When I got back to Savannah, I was frustrated because I couldn’t figure out how to get the pilot light going on the hot water heater and the toilet is persistently running despite everything I try. I think I won’t complain! (But I’m going to have Donald fix when he gets back 🙂 🙂 :))
At 14h on Saturday 17th November, Emmanuel Le Roch, skipper of the Class40 Edenred, informed the race management of the Route du Rhum and his partner Edenred, that he had suffered damage. The skipper, who was in 23rd place, is forced to make his way to Madeira, located about 350 miles from his position.
Emmanuel Le Roch reported that a larger wave than the others seriously damaged the Class40 Edenred. Emmanuel quickly found that his two autopilots were out of service and that the structural bulkhead of the mast had cracked at both ends. He waited until sunrise to look at repairs and after spending the morning trying – unsuccessfully – to find solutions in connection with his technical team, Emmanuel decided to go to Madeira.
The explanations of Emmanuel Le Roch, skipper of Class40 Edenred:
“I had negotiated the crossing all day on Friday. It was not so much about the wind but the sea was crazy. At the end of the day, the boat jumped on a huge wave and fell back violently. I heard a big crack and I immediately noticed the damage on the partition. Now without autopilot, I’m on the helm going downwind to try to get clear of the sea as soon as possible. As soon as the conditions are more manageable, I will try to repair the partition and secure my mast. ”
In good health, Emmanuel Le Roch keeps his spirits up and remains focused on driving his boat to reach Madeira where he is expected in a few days.
After reading about Donald’s close competitor’s collision with a freighter last night (see Previous Update #1), I was relieved to hear from Donald. Thank heavens he headed west a few days ago after he lost his AIS warning system in the storm.
Currently, Donald remains in 24th position, which is outstanding considering his boat, along with others, sustained significant damage in a storm several days back and he had to make a 3 day pitstop in La Coruna, Spain. And it looks like a boat ahead of him just dropped out of the race (not sure why yet), so that should move him up to 23rd. Here are his words:
“….although dog tired from the events of the previous few days, especially that last gale, I struggled to sleep at first, maybe adrenaline, but when I did, I crashed solidly. And then today, it’s been gorgeous sailing, not exactly champagne, but a nice 25-30 knots on the beam with some gusts/squalls stronger. Had some nice flurries at over 18 knots. Haha, my sail selection has been unusual. After the gale, I was too tired/lazy to shake out the reefs. (I had the max of 3) and just used the Solent to drive us through an incredibly confused and large sea with wave caps breaking in different directions. Weird. I was also wary of driving too hard and then falling down the other side of those steep crests. But as the wind filled in to around 25 knots, the sea stabilized and the boat was nicely balanced. Pounding was remarkably minimal. And today, I’ve continued with 3 reefs and the Solent with full ballast in both tanks. That, together with stacking, is a lot of weight and a few times, when the weather helm on the autopilot was too strong, she couldn’t bear away. Other than that, I’ve been reasonably chilled, just taking stock of stuff…water and fuel consumption to date and likely days left, that sort of stuff. And I seem fine. “
“Now to strategy. I think within next 24 hours, I’ll be up to 23, 6 places up from when I left La Coruna (Note from Debra: due to boat delamination), which is encouraging. But my decisions over next 24 hours will determine if I get into the top 20 or not. There’s a group of 6 in front of me and if I try to play in the same area as them, they will hammer me, most of them have newer and faster boats and all of them have their wind instruments.” (Note from Debra: Donald’s blew off in a violent storm a few days back and he thought the backup one also blew off, but it sounds like it’s still there now, but just not linked to the autopilot?) “I have the advantage of being closer to the Rhum line (Note from Debra: most direct line to finish) kind of more upwind, which I need to think carefully about. It may mean going back in that area again, probably more beating, which doesn’t excite me, having done nearly 10 days of it, but it may give me passage past the guys upfront. I’m currently studying weather files and routings and humming and hah-ing. Problem is getting long range data with my little Iridium. That’s my priority for this afternoon. So life on board Power of One is good. So proud of my girl, she’s taken a hammering and still gets out there for more. Tough and enduring… “
“Horrific what happened to Clair Pruvot. It really shouldn’t happen. Ships have all the detection equipment they need and people on watch. I’m glad she’s ok, race committee said she’s really shaken. I really don’t blame her and I hope the matter is taken up with the appropriate marine tribunal. And poor Alex Thompson, leading relatively comfortably, and running aground. I’m surprised, I would’ve had thought his alarm system would have warned him.” (Note from Debra: this is a different race category and the leader slept through his alarm and ran aground right below a cliff in Guadeloupe.) “They penalized him 24 hours for using his engine, so lost his victory. A shame. Moral victory sounds kind of empty. Talking about running aground, I’m going to be passing the most SE island of the Azores, Illa Do Porto, by nightfall and must make sure I don’t hit it. But a nice cold beer, shower, good meal and a nice sleep there would go down well.”
“Oh, and I meant to mention I do have a single mechanical wind instrument. My masthead Windex survived the onslaught and I can see it through a window in the coach roof. Saves me having to go on deck sometimes when it’s ugly. Talking of that, I got out of my dry suit and boots for the first time yesterday. It’s still cold, but I’m using lighter, more comfortable gear. The dry suit is amazing and a complete godsend but cumbersome and not well suited for performing one’s daily constitutional!”
“I am really rambling today, things are obviously easier, but haven’t mentioned two beautiful expressions of nature in the last couple of days. The first was the end of my second last front, just wondering when it would bloody end and this school of dolphins surrounded me in ever so playful a mood. Leaping out of the water with gay abandon, oblivious of the wild conditions around them. It was almost like they were encouraging me that easier, more fun filled times were ahead. They were pretty small and had a youthful, playful energy about them, but too many of them to all have been juveniles, must’ve been a particular breed I’ve never seen before. And then about 10 minutes ago, there was a beautiful rainbow framing the transom of the boat. Stunning, but gone before I could get a picture.” (Note from Debra: our friend, Etienne, just emailed a YouTube video of the spinner dolphins. It sounds like them.)
One last text from Donald after I expressed my concern about more potential storms:
“Sweetie, just to console you, I’ve looked at the charts and there’s no more ugly stuff. In fact, all rather boring, but might be quicker. Current charts say another 13 days. I was hoping less but that’s the light winds ahead. Nothing dangerous. ” (From Debra: THERE IS A GOD!!!)
I haven’t heard from Donald yet this morning, but he’s maintained his 24th position and is closing the gap to his next competitor, around 90 nm ahead. It looks like he finally has good and favorable wind.
I looked at the Skippers logbook on the website and Claire Puvot, who was in 26th position, relatively close to Donald, but further east, so still in the shipping lanes collided with a container ship last night. She’s okay, but had to be rescued. Here is the description from the logbook:
“
Abandon of Claire Pruvot
While sailing last night off the south of Portugal, Claire suffered a collision with a freighter. The boat was badly damaged, which required a rescue operation. After securing her boat, Claire was picked up by the cargo crew 45 minutes after the incident. The Civic Service skipper is shocked but is doing well. It is on board the German container ship Dalian Dalian Epxress which is heading towards Port Said, Egypt. Claire will surely be in Malta. The impact took place around 0h15 in the night from Thursday to Friday as the ship was heading towards Gibraltar. The Civic Service boat suffered a shock on the starboard side, it is open on 3m50. “
If you’re interested in seeing the actual collision on the live on the chart, and you don’t yet know how to view the chart, go to:
https://www.routedurhum.com/en. (If it pulls it up in French, click the “EN” button at the far right of home page.) Choose the “From the Racecourse tab on top left.” Choose “Tracker.” Give it a few seconds to load. In the big white box on left, Click “Class 40 Tab (yellow).” Then click the Options Tab. You’ll want to track “ALL”, then I have the first three boxes checked in the next section (Skipper label, Grid, Trails), and Skipper label “normal.” You can pick wind, etc.. to your preference. The bottom box should be clicked for “Hide the boats” ; otherwise, you’ll have too much information. Donald’s boat is in gray #24 near the Azores. Zoom in to it.
Finally, if you look at the bottom of the chart, there’s a play button. This traces the previous path of the boats. Claire’s boat is #26/27th in the bright pink (to the SE of Donald). You can see it all of a sudden going sideways.
Thank heavens Donald is now away from the shipping lanes. Crossing fingers and holding thumbs.
Debra here: I wake up every morning to check the Route Du Rhum app, bracing myself to see a huge zig or zag that typically means something went wrong and Donald had to “hove to.” I’d been forewarned that a huge storm was brewing last night and was prepared for the worst, so needless to say, I was pleasantly surprised to see that Donald was still in a straight line and had even moved up to 25th position. Given that his wind autopilot stopped functioning two days ago, this wasn’t expected. I texted Donald to let him know and here was his response:
“Oh my God, Baby! I caught up two places whilst getting the worst beating I’ve ever had. That is truly the toughest thing mentally and physically I have ever done. The conditions were substantially worse than Bay of Biscay (where his boat delaminated). Wind much stronger, sustained 50+ knots in a difficult pounding sea. I did not and still have not had a wink of sleep since noon yesterday. I was steering her from the autopilot control down below, trying to keep speed down, but momentum going. So, up in the gusts and down in the lulls. The punishment to my poor girl was so intense that I wondered at times if she wouldn’t just break up. There’s a long tale to be told, but first, I must get some sleep. I’m falling asleep writing this….”
As many of you know, Donald has a way with words, so when he has a chance to write a full narrative, I’m sure it will be interesting reading.
I’m not sure how long he can continue to hold up given the extra constraints of losing his wind autopilot, but let’s see how it plays out. I’ll keep you posted.
Logbook entry from Mikael Ryking on Class40 boat Talanta
Report #5 from Talanta/ Ryking Ocean Racing in the Route du Rhum
Yesterday was a calm and nice day and I was just about to write a post about life in the storm. But the writing was overtaken by an event… The linear drive of the autopilot stopped working and Talanta accidentilly tacked just after I passed in front of a large cargo ship. Felt a bit stupid, they had just changed their course to avoid collision with me and then I tack… Like I could have done 30 minutes earlier. But I guess from the manuevres after they understood something wasn’t completely right!
Anyway, the broken linear drive cost me seven hours of standing still. The secondary linear drive was also broken as before the start everything on the to do list was overtaken by event – like the new main sail, the wind transducers and the engine. But the primary drive unit was new in June this year and had only made one transat – seems like Raymarine linear drive Type 2 has got a substantially lower quality these days. So after taking working parts from both linear drives I could make one working!
So, back to yesterdays mission of telling about life in the storm. The Doors singing Riders on the stom is going on in my head, just like it did last year when Irina and I set the transatlantic world record Bermuda to Plymouth. That time seriously worse conditions were prevailing and this is only a small piece of the starter on that menu. But still, same song singing in my head.
It may be hard to really undertand the conditions. Boat is bouncing up and down, to the right, to the left, forth and back. I made a sandwich at one point. Must have looked like a spider, standing on my knees with legs and arms in all directions to hold on. Each 15 to 30 seconds I’m lifted from the floor. Ok, I take out one piece of bread. Put it on the engine box. But the engine box does not behave like the kitchen table at home. This one is rocking and the sandwich does not intend to stay on it. Ok, I put one hand to hold the sandwich. The other hand I’m trying to get the butter out of the butter box. But then I need a hand to hold also the butter box, so one finger on the sandwich and two finger for the butter and other hand for the knife. Using arms and body to keep myself in the same position. Finally, a few minutes later a lovely sandwich was ready to be eaten!
“…will this brake you down and praying on your knees? No! I’m going down on my knees to make sandwich – not to pray for mercy!”
The banging of the hull into the waves makes a terrible noise and also things falls apart. There’s a hatch under the navigation table that lost its place. Some electronics hanging down and I go under the nav table to fix before all electronics being ripped out. Tool box is now under my face and then a very rough wave hits the boat and I am totally face planted hard into the tool box… Now the reader may imagine myself looking up with screw drivers and spanners pointing in all directions from my face and head, but it never went that bad. Only a severe nose blood and a cut in my lip… ??
Tons and tons of water is flushing over the boat and some of it comes into the aft compartment of the boat. For some reasons the bilge pump (which has a smart hose I can take anywhere needed in the boat) doesn’t pump properly anymore. So I need to crawl back with a bucket. Boat is doing 12 to 15 knots outside, bouncing in the seas and then I fill the bucket and crawling backwards out again. Waves slams onto the hull, which propagates to the bucket which then makes the water inside shoot right up into my face. Very nice, very appreciated… No, not at all. 20 buckets later the aft compartment is dry. For a short time. Then it begins again.
So the reason why I pulled out sailing south east two days ago was to save the boat from too hard banging into the waves. Talanta is like a war machine, she takes unbelievably lot – so far only small issues. But I try to not find the level where bigger things happen. Of course this has made me fall down in the ranking, but this was needed. Yesterday morning wind finally started to drop and I was out of the storm. Now heading south for the trade wind. But then the autopilot broke… And stood still for seven hours.
Today I was supposed to have a nice north westerly wind, giving me a nice ride to south west. I sailed well into the new wind and then I could finally relax. Had a good night with loads of sleep. But then in the morning…. A hole in the wind found me and my boat! This is the worst that can happen a sailor. No wind and big swells! Like a real hard core mental test that Mother Nature puts you on!! She’s saying – how about this, will this brake you down and praying on your knees? No! I’m going down on my knees to make sandwich – not to pray for mercy! ?? I’m looking forward to get out of this in a few hours time, and then at some point – who knows who knows who knows – I just go where the trade wind blows! Last sentence is from a song by Proteje – just awesome reggae! (if you want a nice reggae list you’ll find one on my public Spotify)
Skipper Boris Herrmann’s logbook post from the other day gives some insight into the experiences – mental and physical – that these offshore sailors face each day.
10/11 - 22h53
"Wishing for no bad surprises" - Boris Herrmann
Back home in hamburg it has already been dark for 3 hours and cold. Winter, which I have just escaped I realise. Since this morning I have been wearing shorts and bare feet. Another quick sunset of the low latitudes - compared to home.
I see a purple lens cloud to the North in an otherwise clear sky with hazy horizons. It’s the island Santa Maria off the Azures.
I have never been there but would like to. I imagine it is green and quiet with untouched nature.
I have barely seen any birds so far during this trip but when I do I enjoy it. When the wind was up I had some kind of mini Albatros or a kind of storm bird showing up for half an hour. Gliding elegantly behind the boat through the massive long seas of maybe 6 meters. It was a short instance of glory.
Many moments these last few days remind me of my most intense sailing I have done: the 8 month round the world with Felix some years ago. I had found at sea some kind of inner peace that is so precious and hard to come by on land, or in general, when at sea.
We had hundreds of miles separation and up to 40 days at sea allowing us to plunge into a particular rhythm. I remember two cases: in the big south - observing Albatrosses behind the boat and the south Atlantic going back north emerging from the cold - feeling the first warmth again. I remember this moment in moderate light breeze the sun directly from behind with the dots of light wandering smoothly around the inside of the boat with every one of her movements. I took note of things differently, when brewing coffee for us, it was like I was smelling it for the first time. We were listening to Barbara and saying nothing. We were just about to descend from our biggest adventure, the south, on a small boat, the rounding of Cape Horn and we were in the lead (later we lost the lead 45 mins before the finish in Brazil in a thunderstorm!)
The mind can always be occupied with something on a boat: should I change to the bigger/smaller sail? Is the wind turning as I expected? Am I fast enough? Where am I gonna end up in the ranking? Am I loosing or gaining? Am I in the wrong spot here? I should check the batteries, the motor, how much diesel is left, clean the ropes in the cockpit, sponge water from the bilge, repair the broken sensor, the broken rope, in-depth study of the strategy, do some videos and eat better. Finally I should get some rest and then start again at the top of the list over and over again. And even while I am trying to sleep my mind will constantly ask about the race.
With ever changing wind you can never reach 100 percent of perfection in trim and sail choice. You can never stop, it’s an endless quest and I feel very nervous and unsettled thinking about it. Days pass by like an hour and the race so far is just a blur of memory. A fight and struggle. I struggle also with the uncertainty that is always part of the game.
Thankfully, there are possibilities to just let the boat sail sometimes. Like yesterday, when I found this moment just for sunset. Realising that I am not in the storm anymore and conditions are significantly better. I am still upwind with a highly uncertain strategical position - enough reason to be upset but I can for this short moment find peace and disconnect from the race. Surely enough, in a few minutes my mind will start again wandering around the same above questions. Highly obsessed. I seem to find a mood pattern: evening and sunset peace and thankful. Night cool and quiet. Morning lonely and worried. Daytime a bit nervous and a bit obsessed.
This may also have to do with the fact that I started the last 3 days with little catastrophes in the mornings raising my adrenaline so far that it probably took the day to digest. Yesterday in the early morning my satcom didn’t work and I found the electronics compartment under water. Today wind instruments failed and I found myself thrown around in a bouncing foredeck under water in the darkness trying to sort the mast rotation.
Losing both or either the sat com or wind instruments would be a horror for me. Therefore, for the next 24 hours I officially wish for…..no bad surprises! I will gain clarity on the strategy over that period and write about that to you tomorrow. By the way it is about time that a non-French wins the 40 year old French Transat. Alex is sailing an amazing race and I am glad he is set up in such a strong position.
Now it’s time for my evening weather session. Good night and good start of your weekend. Speak tomorrow. Boris
Power of One 