Friday (Day 4) at 23:24
A small gap will become a big one!
Well, friends, I think I may have pushed it a bit too far with my slightly wider course today…
Clearly, all day long, this gap allowed me to get back among the leaders thanks to good wind conditions and a promising wind channel further offshore. The routings warned of a risky transition with the arrival of the thermal wind. So I had to choose the right moment to head back towards land and accept two hours of tacking into the wind on the other tack. I had to capitalise on the miles, winning without being too greedy!
Laudato [Régis and Clémence Vian’s JPK 1050, which I’d left well behind, set off a little earlier than me on starboard tack whilst I was expecting a sharp drop in wind… which eventually did arrive, but didn’t last long with the arrival of total calm, and much later, fresh offshore wind.
I was stuck in this transition zone for a long time with no way out, only to realise that the others had found wind again and were pulling ahead once more. It’s a double pain, because in this position, my course towards Lisbon is less windy. It’s 11 pm and I have to gybe, tacking across the wind, to avoid sailing parallel to this wind zone without really benefiting from it.
So I’m not very proud of myself, because this morning I told myself I mustn’t miss the train, and that’s probably exactly what’s just happened. It’s a long way to go and I’ll be on the lookout for openings…
Alex, I won’t leave you in peace!
— JP
Saturday (Day 5) at 11.58 pm
Wait for me, lads!
It was the perfect day for sailing, and what’s more, for a cruise where the only aim is to have fun and enjoy the pleasure of being on the water. In a race, the stakes are different, and we’d rather be sailing in front in the rain than behind in the sunshine; the ideal is to be sailing in front in perfect conditions – we’re not savages, after all!
In fact, I spent the day in a state of wonder and frustration: wonder at the sheer beauty of it all, and frustration at seeing the ‘Club of 5’ inevitably pull further ahead at every mark. This is undoubtedly where the competitive spirit comes to the fore, where events are experienced with total intensity, only for them to cease to matter the moment the finish line is crossed.
The explanation for today’s loss of miles reveals just how sensitive these new planing boats are: at 13 knots, they don’t plane; at 15 knots, they plane at the right angle. Stuck 20 miles alongside the leading group, I had to wait until 4 pm to reach that minimum wind threshold and finally push the boat, with speeds exceeding 17 knots in the evening. But the loss of miles has certainly happened, and we’ll have to work hard to make up for it! It’s still a long way to Madeira, which we’ll reach on Monday around midday.
The next question concerns the route – north or south – to reach the Caribbean. The trade winds are light and very low in the atmosphere, which means a significant detour, almost touching Cape Verde! The other route is less appealing and involves unknowns in the third week of the race, but it drastically reduces the distance.
I imagine everyone is thinking hard about their crossing strategy, a mix of wanting to sail in the sunshine under spinnaker and, of course, going for the win.
On Persaivert, we’re persevering, we’re not giving up, and we’re preparing our next move for the sheer joy of the game!
— JP
Sunday (Day 6) 01:39
We’d left each other feeling a bit tense because restarting had been really tough… A few hours later, the night is peaceful with a beautiful moon and a gentle breeze rustling the spinnaker’s light fabric. I let my mind wander and enjoy the moment, trying not to think about the rankings, which are going in the wrong direction for me.
At 2 am, I lie down for a 40-minute nap and set my alarm. Fast asleep, a shrill alarm suddenly rouses me from my slumber, and I realise it’s not my alarm clock but another alarm: the central system has crashed – this isn’t good! With no pilot, the boat has gybed, spinnaker in the wrong way, rudder up… But nothing’s broken, because luckily the wind is light at 12 knots.
I get the boat back on course and hold the helm steady to see how to handle it. As I don’t want to lower the spinnaker, I’ll have to act fast… It’s NOW: I have to let go of the helm, go down to the chart table, switch the autopilot ON/OFF to try and get it going again. It’s a mad dash to get back and forth in 3 seconds!
In the end, I engage the emergency autopilot – thanks, Julien [electrician at JPK Composites] – and I can manage. Two hours later, my spinnaker martin breaker opens by itself (!) in stronger but manageable wind, and in the evening it’s my ethanol battery causing me a few minor issues. At 1.30 this morning, the lashing of the ring at the end of the bowsprit gives way. At that point, I had no choice: I had to lower the A2 and go forward to redo the lashing, with my feet braced on the bobstay, and really focused because it’s a bit daunting being above the water!
Now I’m back on track, and I hope there won’t be any more trouble for a while!
Good night …
— JP
