Tuesday 5 May (Day 14) at 07:04
« J’aime pas trop beaucoup ça »
It’s too calm… really too calm, wind-wise, on Monday 4 May. Despite a southerly course change for two hours this morning and no warnings from the various wind and routing models, I have to admit that I sailed all day, and late into the night, with at least 2 to 3 knots less wind and at an angle 20° higher than expected!
Located 20 nautical miles further south, the group led by Alex didn’t experience this ‘accordion effect’ and, behind them, Régis and Clémence didn’t get stuck in this lull either. In short, the loss is significant, morale has taken a hit and, when you add the early arrival of the Sargassum, you could easily describe this day as a ‘shit day’…
Admittedly, the route is long and, ahead, the weather situation isn’t settled, but high-pressure systems are overhead and the danger comes from above the route, with a particularly sluggish Thursday/Friday, though there are still usable wind bands that I’m trying to track on the ECMWF and GFS models.
As for the Sargassum, we can only watch helplessly as it arrives earlier and earlier in the Atlantic, and we’ll have to make do with it, applying the famous knotted rope technique to remove the seaweed that has accumulated on the leading edge of the keel. With an elastic band wrapped around the bow, I thread my rope under the bobstay (the line holding my carbon bowsprit) and then throw it downwind, with the other end attached to the shrouds. In short, this rope wraps around the keel and, by pulling it up — the faster the boat goes, the more physical it is — we fling those pesky seaweed away. I must have done it 20 times yesterday; it was a proper ‘ocean gardening session’ – it really got on my nerves!
s 5 am UTC, the night is pitch black and I’m at the chart table. I love these moments when the mind wanders, but the senses are alert. The wind has just picked up to 15 knots under a tight spinnaker course: I’m going to ease off the sheets and, why not, make myself a quick coffee!
— JP
