A Thorough Beating

I have just been through the worst sailing of my career. Seriously, I was almost ready to stop. The last eighteen hours has been back to back thunderstorms and squalls. It was like a bowling alley of them all night long. I’d have 40 knots from the east, then 40 knots from the west, then no wind at all. It was just constant and there was no way to keep up. Le Pingouin kept getting knocked down over and over. I tried hand steering through it dealing with all the sheets and lines as well, and I couldn’t keep up. I just simply could not change direction fast enough. The seas were coming from all directions and it felt like a washing machine. The storms rolled through 1-2-3 and on and on they kept coming in the pitch black night with no moon. In my exhausted state I was just waiting from something bad to happen, because the entire situation was so hard on me and the boat.


In my scurried state of trying to keep some semblance of order, I was standing at the back of the cockpit looking astern in an effort to inspect the rudders because the boat simply wouldn’t steer responsively (it turns out solely because of the incredibly confused sea state), when it felt like Mike Tyson slugged me directly in the back. Not just anywhere on my backside, but exactly where I had 2 extensive back surgeries many years ago to fix herniated discs and dural sack damage. I crumpled over into the cockpit floor in pain while grabbing a line, to then see that it was a massive flying fish (looked more like a flying trout with attitude – and quite an altitude as he hit me about 10 feet above the waterline). As I gathered my thoughts and stood up again, another one came hurdling at me and hit me on the shoulder. I have a nice bruise to prove it. This entire incident or series of incidents left me in pain and concerned about the boat, but also wishing this was all on tape because it was so unbelievable. I know this sounds like an April fools scam but the only one getting messed with was me at the hand of God or Neptune or something like that.

My whole body is sore from the endless winching and work to get through the 16 or so hours of chaos. I feel like I can hardly move. In a 10 hour period I probably tacked 30-40 times and was knocked down 6-8 times. The boat looked like a yard sale gone wrong, with lines and flags dragging behind the boat. There is diesel from the header tank that opened all over the floor down below, so it is like an ice skating rink down here. The heat combined with the diesel just stinks so bad I can hardly stand to go down below, so I did crash on deck for 30 minutes following the trauma and the feeling that I was dangerously close to hallucinating. It will take days to clean all of this up. I am now trying to work my way north and more to the west to remain clear of the huge clouds that create such fiascos and rest as much as the weather allows. From my childhood sailing to now, through dozens of runs in the Gulfstream and 2 ½ circumnavigations alone, I never expected what I experienced last night could happen. I am both stunned and pleased that Le Pingouin made it through without any major damage. I am also praying that the pain in my lower back is a knot of muscle and not something more. I wish I could have provided a picture of the flying trout but he flipped and flopped back into the water before I realized I really wanted to eat him or at least memorialize his back breaking girth. Sometimes facts are stranger than fiction and I swear this is not an April fool’s gag.

Thanks for checking in,

Brad

Pushing Hard to Keep the Lead

I have been pushing really hard in pretty rough conditions. Right now I am tight reaching with 20-25 knots of wind with it gusting a bit higher. Le Pingouin and I are covered in water almost all the time on deck. She is handling it well – I must say better than I am for now.


Derek is a man on a mission and he is not letting up. It is a great to have a small lead, but I am definitely dancing on the edge of control. I have to believe he is as well. Derek is a tenacious bugger and his boat is fast. In fact our boats competed against each other in the 2002-3 Around Alone race (now the VELUX) with their previous owners onboard and his boat (then named Solidaires) beat my boat (then named Tiscali) by quite a margin. I think we are both anxious and excited to be sailing toward home in North America. I can almost smell the sweet reward of arriving in Charleston. But for now I need to deal with a low pressure system coming off of Rio, and trying to stay in front of the fleet. The introduction of stealth mode should prove to be a fun dynamic to the tactics of this leg, and I look forward to seeing who uses it and when. Thanks for checking in and stay tuned as we race up the coast.

Cheers,

Brad

On the Way

After an anxious start morning where I sorely missed the usual send off from my wife Meaghan and the kids, it was finally time to get on with the ocean sprint 4 from Punta del Este to my hometown of Charleston.  The family had a great adventure following the race around the world but with budget, business and school hanging over the 'reality' portion of our world, it was time to pay a little attention to the need for the family to re-enter into a more normal life.  Net result was that Meaghan and I had to process the necessity to be apart for the first time in my 13 year career of solo racing starts.

The weather was picture perfect for a nice send-off and the fleet delivered a textbook start from just a few yards off the jetty on the Punta Del Este waterfront. Big crowds turned out to watch us go under bright blue skies and it was a very special way to leave.  It is wonderful to now have a few days of favorable conditions on the cards while we get in the groove and get some miles towards the north under our belt. The weather is forecast to get very tricky in a couple days time, so some time in good conditions while we readjust to life racing alone at sea is always appreciated.

As I write this in the early morning I am only a few miles from the location where I was violently dismasted in terrible weather while sailing this race in 1999.  It is a nice milestone to be charging along in nice conditions this time as I process the emotions and memories of what was one of the more difficult things I have ever dealt with.


The current running of this leg from Punta to Charleston represents an entirely different set of mental challenges for me. The fact that Charleston is now home and my family and friends are the light at the end of this tunnel is going to make for a leg full of anticipation and a whole new set of incentives for a good performance.  I have told myself over and over to relax , be careful and just sail smart but I wish I had a magic button to make the boat or at least the clock go faster.  I am sure I will settle in as things proceed but for the moment it is hard to forget that Cape Horn is behind me and LP, and that Charleston is the next stop.

The stopover in Punta Del Este was as hospitable as could be and I recommend the beautiful city on the peninsula to anyone who is interested in a fantastic South American adventure.  The people, food and beaches are a really cool mix of city and resort type atmosphere.

All the best from off the coast of Southern Brazil!

Brad

South American Hospitality and Final Days on Land

I love Punta, but let’s get on with it, as I am ready to Rumble.


Yesterday we took Le Pingouin off the dock to test all the repairs and go for a sail during a beautiful Punta day, that proved perfect to do our final boat inspection. After yesterday’s outing it is official; LP is ready to roll and so am I.

I was sitting on deck at one point after calibrating the B & G autopilots and looking at all the Quantum Sails tugging LP along at 11 kts in 10 kts of breeze, and I quietly thought to myself, “boy it would be nice to just drop the team on that photo rib and hang a left and haul ass home”. However, I am sure the last few days in Punta will be a great chance to enjoy the wonderful hospitality and finish provisioning as we wait for a nasty front to come through with squalls and ugly winds from where we wish to go.

This stopover has been as wonderful as a ‘post Cape Horn’ stopover can be, and a perfect antidote to all the stress that has gone before. One of the activities laid on for us was a wonderful outing that presented a rare opportunity for all the skippers to spend a little bit of downtime together. We were hosted by Velux at a beautiful Uruguayan Estancia (a remote ranch with a restaurant and swimming pool etc) and were escorted around the working cattle ranch in some of Uruguay’s most stunning terrain via horseback and on foot. The four skippers on horseback was a bit of an odd assortment of fish out of water but a fun exercise as a group. We even had the true adventure experience of coming across a nasty venomous snake that spooked the horses on a tight section of our trail back to the ranch house.

A big thank you goes out from me and Team Lazarus to the Punta Del Este Yacht Club, Velux and Clipper Ventures for what has been a remarkable stopover but it is now time for LP and me to get focused on a real highlight for this race around the world. Getting stuck into the leg home to my hometown of Charleston.

Cheers,
Brad

Settling in South America

It feels fantastic to be here in Punta del Este. The last leg was emotional and full of stress, with the rounding of Cape Horn as the pivotal moment. My target has changed. It has been rounding Cape Horn and now it is the finish line in France. It really is a different feeling once you pass the Horn and start sailing in the Atlantic. A huge relief!


The yacht club here in Punta is fantastic and it is great to see so many familiar faces from my last visit in 1999. When I was dismasted about 24 hours after starting the race here, the entire community came together to offer their support. It was endearing and the same friends are here to welcome the Velux fleet. It is also very cool to see the healthy attitude and accessibility of sailing for kids. There are about 150 young sailors here getting ready for the Optimist Nationals, and the community is super supportive. It obviously does not matter what neighborhood you live in, and typical yacht club exclusivity doesn’t mean a thing. These kids want to sail… and the people around them are helping make it happen!

Thanks for checking in. Cheers,

Brad

Tacking Up the Rio de la Plata

Working my way upwind for 4+ days now seems worth the effort. I was sailing upwind in the shallow waters (60 feet or so) of the Rio de la Plata for days before the finish in Uruguay. I had to work close to the shoreline in order to keep west of a high pressure area. It felt a bit like tacking up the beach, which is not necessarily a breeze after 20+ days at sea alone. The good news is that I started to thaw and as the water and air warmed up, I was able to shed my layers of clothing after the brisk Southern Ocean chill. Cheers to warm weather and the always hospitable Yateste in Punta del Este!

Brad

Returning from Battle

Well,


Since rounding the horn the sailing conditions have been, ummm... different!  After averaging 13 knots from the start in New Zealand to the Horn, in a classic Southern Ocean drag race and experiencing the rounding of a lifetime, the change of pace feels something like I imagine it must feel like coming back from battle to civilization.

At first the quiet was welcome and I tended to many boat a personal chores that had been neglected. Then I had the next awesome chance of a lifetime and slowly tacked my way through the Straits of Le Maire.  The Straits are a channel of water that separates the final little island, that is the extreme tip of South America, and the mainland.  The currents and crazy winds are notorious and getting the chance to go through there is always only a small percentage of likelihood.  It turned out when I got to the mouth that the tides were right, so I went for it.

I had done the same thing downwind during the night my first solo adventure through this area, on Balance Bar, and was really jazzed to see it in the daylight. By the time I shot out the other side and into the green waters of the South Atlantic I had a whopping 4 knots of boatspeed through the water in nearly no wind, but was doing 11 knots over the bottom!  Yikes, if you aren't well set up for that current it could be a very bad day and I can see why there are so many shipwreck icons on the charts of the area.  I might add tourism is alive and well in the Cape Horn area and 2 cruise ships not only graced my presence but broke the virgin wild nature of the moment.

Then after a couple hours of watching the swirling eddies, overfalls and whirlpools of the crazy tides the show was over and I was officially flushed into the Atlantic with as much fallen timber and kelp as I have ever seen.  So as I slowly proceeded and sailed upwind dodging the flotsom the excitement of the whole episode wore off and now I am really ready to get back at it.  Suit me up and throw me back in the battle!

I have cleaned, eaten and slept and want my 13 knot averages back!  Unfortunately it doesn't work that way though and I will be battling all sorts of new weather from upwind to downwind light and moderate (hopefully not too heavy) and ticking the mellower miles off, and dreaming of the very bitchin barbecue the Uruguayans have figured out.

Best,

Brad

What a 24 Hours

Wow,


What a 24 hours!  Last night all seemed fine for an approach to the horn with 35 knots of westerly wind.  Then as I approached the shallows the wind filled in to a solid 50 knots which in itself isn't too much and should be fast sailing, but then the seas.  Oh the seas at the Horn have a reputation for a reason and I am thankful I didn't see it in 70 knots like so many have. Some of whom rest in the graveyard of the seas below where LP and I struggled along.  One minute I needed more sail to keep up with the swell that was so steep and short and then at others I would be going too fast and slam into some weird swell from the other direction and feel the boat shudder as the bow went under the swell. 

On 2 occasions the bow felt like someone who was trying to come up for a breath of air desperately and she just couldn't break free until the boat was buried to the mast as the sail plan wanted to keep going and so it did.  Then the stern rose until the rudders got the breath of air the bow needed and let go of the water.  The boat would sit in this tenuous spot for a second although it felt like a year and then would fall on it's side to expose her under belly to the fury of the wave on the surface.  No wonder Derek got rolled in 70 knots trying to get around in 2003!

Then things began to abate as forecast and after a day of gybing to the Islas de Hornos I got the payoff.  I got to pass by the famous outcropping within a few miles at sunset under a mellow 20 knots reaching along with a beautiful southern sky coming and going with the rock bathed in periodic sunshine and even a rainbow.  The picture perfect moment for my 3rd time around the infamous landmark.

Now I am expecting to watch the breeze continue to diminish and by the time I am truly clear and in the South Atlantic on the other side of the Straits of Le Maire I will be parked and if the forecast is accurate patiently waiting for the others to round so we may re-start this leg for the final push.  Ughh! 

Hello Cape Horn - 3rd Times a Charm

Getting here has been brutal, with conditions last night that really reminded me how unforgiving this place can be. As I was coming up on the shelf the waves were very dangerous. You can hear more in the audio file below, but I will say this is a remarkable feeling. I'm going on deck to enjoy it!
http://www.velux5oceans.com/#/latest-news/brad-speaks-looking-at-cape-horn/1552


Cheers, Brad

Be Good to Me Isla de Hornos

I have been working really hard to stay in front of a low pressure system as I make my way to rounding the infamous Cape Horn. It has not been terribly easy, with a ball joint that broke free on my steering system, forcing me to put in several hours of repair. I did take some video of the situation and hopefully you will be able to see that soon at http://www.velux5oceans.com/. I’m currently about 150 miles from Isla de Hornos, the actual rock, or landmass, I will see if I am lucky enough to get a glimpse of it as I pass through this corridor for the third time in my life. How many people have rounded Cape Horn three times? I have no idea, but I can’t imagine it is many.

My mission has been to stay in front of this weather system so that I continue optimum downwind conditions and also keep the intensity of winds and waves under control. Well, I have accomplished ½ of my mission. I’ve remained in front of the low pressure system, so the wind direction is good, but it is gusting to 50 knots and the waves are huge. I was hoping to hang on to 25-30 knots of breeze, but it is hootin’ out here and I am paying close attention to everything onboard. Le Pingouin is wiping out once in a while and I am just hoping to get through the next 6-8 hours unscathed. It is freezing cold and at times I can’t feel my fingers. Despite the conditions, I have to try my best to be gentle with LP. Preserving this bird that can’t fly, means preserving my own well being and also keeping me in the race.

It is emotional coming upon such a landmark. I really hope I get at least a short visual of The Horn. Right now I can only see about three boat lengths in front of me due to the mist and waves. Although it is very intense right now with the wind amped up and towering waves, I believe it may mellow out a bit by the time I am there. My best guess right now is rounding The Horn in the afternoon or early evening tomorrow, Feb 21.

Thanks for checking in and following the race. If you have not joined the Team Lazarus/Le Pingouin Cape Horn Crew, this is your last chance. In addition to the obvious duties I will be attending to, Meg has supplied me with about three dozen beautiful photos of Le Pingouin and a Sharpie for personal messages as I reach Cape Horn. Check it out at: http://myemail.constantcontact.com/Last-Chance-285-Miles-to-the-Rock---JOIN-THE-CAPE-HORN-CREW.html?soid=1102771164396&aid=OCtRFu-iyk0
Cheers,

Brad

Some Background/History (from Wikipedia):

Hornos Island (Spanish: Isla Hornos) is a Chilean island at the southern tip of South America. The island is mostly known for being the location of Cape Horn. It is generally considered South America's southernmost island, but the Diego Ramírez Islands are farther south. The island is one of the Hermite Islands, part of the Tierra del Fuego archipelago.

The Chilean Navy maintains a station on the island, consisting of a residence, utility building, chapel, and lighthouse;[1] A short distance from the main station is a memorial, including a large sculpture featuring the silhouette of an albatross, in honour of the sailors who died while attempting to "round the Horn".[2]

The island is within the Cabo de Hornos National Park.

Mean Temperature: 5.3° Celsius

Maximum Temperature: 20.5° Celsius (February 1996)

Minimum Temperature: -14.5° Celsius (June 1992)

Mean Relative humidity: 86.4 %

Mean Wind Direction: 264°

Mean Wind Speed: 84 knots

Maximum Wind Speed: 119 knots(August 1995)

Rainfall (yearly mean): 697.5 mm.

Maximum Rainfall: 1263.2 (1990)