Logbook of the Nausikäa
Home
The Boat
The Crew
The Logbook of the journey
Sign Guestbook
View Guestbook
The Weather forecast on our route
A day from Mira’s diary (Crossing the Bay of Biscay)
As most of you probably have noticed, I (Mira) am not much of an internet-writer. But I do keep a diary during this trip. To make my contribution to our website I decided to translate stories out of my diary (almost uncensored!). I hope you enjoy them
(I’ve chosen this day, because I’ve tried to give an impression of what a day looks like during a crossing)
Friday, 24th of August 2001, Bay of Biscay
It’s starting to get dark and we are sailing somewhere on the line of Brest, miles away from the coast. It’s my watch now and the weather is very calm. We decided to have watches from 3 hours, which means that after every watch, you have 6 hours off.
We left Falmouth more than 60 hours ago and we are not even halfway. We did have lots of different types of weather, so far it’s not boring at all. We started of without any wind, out of which a small breeze developed. The first night we sailed with the spinnaker which was tiring, because the self-steering needed almost constant correction. The next watch I can’t even remember! Anyway, next morning the spinnaker was gone.
Thursday night again no wind after some hours of perfect sailing. But during my watch, just after Jeroen and Ton went to bed the wind started to blow, I could roll out the jib, and I had such a superb time that I didn’t want to wake up Ton to take over from me. When I did, unfortenately for him the wind turned so it came straight ahead, which means lots of bumping, jumping, rolling etc. Very uncomfortable, also for the people trying to sleep, because that is nearly impossible. The sound of the water against the hull, the lines on the deck which try to keep hold of the sails (sometime they are so tight, it sounds like a guitar when you touch them), the mast doing its best to keep standing, all these sounds together are like a war inside. It’s not even nice to sleep in that kind of noise.
During my next watch I had to steer by hand because the self-steering wasn’t doing what I asked it to. Just when I was dozing of I saw dolphins! What a beautiful way to enter the French territorial waters! In the night I had hoisted the French flag to surprise Jeroen and Ton, but in daytime it turned out to be the Belgium flag (also a nice surprise of course).
This morning Ton and I had a nice talk. It’s worth telling, because the three of us don’t do a lot of talking, much to my surprise, being together on such a small boat. We are either to tired, or busy with cooking, fishing (but not catching anything), navigating, catching weather reports, changing sails or sleeping.
This afternoon I took a shower with ¾ litre of water. We have to be careful with water because that will be the first thing which will be short. We still have at least 350 Miles to go, which will take us at least 4 days and nights and we don’t have very impressive water storages.
Already another watch! It’s hard to describe how I experience this sailing trip. Some impressions:
- I have the feeling you don’t do a lot during 24 hours.
-You have 3 times a watch of 3 hours in which you are steering or letting the self-steering do the work (like now). During a watch you put down a mark on the chard (the position at that moment) two or three times which takes you 10 minutes each time. Every 2 or 3 minutes you look very carefully around for other ships (I’ll do that right away……. no ship to be seen, like the last 22 hours). It’s misty now and very dark (I’m writing with the help of our oil lamp) which means that you don’s see a ship until it’s very close, which is scary, and makes it even more important to look around almost constantly. I feel like my watches are over before I can blink with my eyes, not a boring moment so far. The only other thing I do during a watch is thinking what I’m want to do and learn during this crossing. Always long lists, but well……….
-After a watch you have 6 whole hours to yourself, especially at the beginning that is such a luxurious feeling. First you look on the chard for the Miles that you have sailed during your watch. You treat the new watch with coffee (Ton) or tea with milk (Jeroen), and something to eat. You take of your oil suit, have a pee, brush your teeth, and all these daily activities take up triple the time compared to a non-moving apartment, somewhere in a noisy neighbourhood in Utrecht. So after this first hour you’re ready to sleep. Mostly not more than 2 or 3 hours.
After waking up the same story, putting on your clothes, peeing, looking at the chard whether they made good progress during your sleep, a little chat, something to eat, drink, and your next watch is starting without having done anything useful at all during the last 6 hours.
Wow, there is a very beautiful, fragile moon struggling to shine through the mist. The first piece of moon I’ve seen so far during this crossing, so I’m going to enjoy that for a moment. And stars!! It feels like the wind will increase which will be good, we’re not going very fast at the moment.
-Something else. Any activity is totally dependent of the movement of the boat. At this moment it’s very quit, which makes writing this diary, sleeping etc. possible and nice to do. But during daytime today, when we were sailing in the direction of the wind, force 5, every movement or activity is a struggle. Going to the toilet is a total disaster. Before you are able to land with your ass on the right place, you’ve been thrown for or backwards at least three times getting your pants down, which means at least one blue spot is gained. After peeing the same story is applicable. After this very important and regular activity I need at least 15 minutes of sitting down and doing nothing, otherwise my mood is in a terrible state. Especially bumping your head is awful. When that happens twice at a row I better be left alone for some time.
Unfortunately the moon is gone again.
-Watches are almost always very pleasant. Although without any wind it’s hard. The sails are making such a noise that it is almost (I repeat almost) just as bad as starting the engine.
-Sleeping is not very comfortable. You’re constantly moving and trying to lay still. Which makes my legs after some sleep sometimes more tired than before. Except with very calm weather, like now, you have the chance of really getting some rest.
-Cooking: (Unfortunately it’s getting do damp to write on now. I’m going to put a mark on the chart, wake up Ton and aim for a very peaceful sleep.)