EBAY TO RODNEY BAY
so much time there nobody looked twice
as I went into the workshop. Fifteen
minutes later it was patched and welded
and I was on my way back to refit the part.
Still with a long list of jobs to finish it was
eventually time to go. We sailed around
Weymouth Bay to test the new equipment,
provisioned in Weymouth, and then that
was it. No big send off or fanfare, we just
sailed off in to the morning mist catching
the early tide: our adventure had begun.
Whirlwind passage
We were already seven weeks behind our
original schedule so the first part of the
journey was a whirlwind. Crossing the
Channel in fog, we bypassed Alderney
and Guernsey and arrived at Roscoff at
midnight in the pitch black. Then down
the French coast navigating the Chenal
Du Four and Raz de Seine in one go –
something we would never have
contemplated the year before.
Jan was still taking things one step at a
time, convinced we would never make it
to Gran Canaria in time for the start. We
had seen no other ARC boats, so I began
to plot where they were using Vessel
Finder. It was surprising to see where the
participants were; some in the Med, some
already waiting in Las Palmas but some
hadn’t even set off. This was a relief but
we’d soon be undertaking passages that
would take us further and for longer than
ever before, not to mention the big one
looming: Biscay.
After long deliberation we decided to
start the Biscay crossing from La Rochelle.
Time was still tight in our minds with such
a distance yet to go. Bad weather or
southerly winds could delay us at any time.
We departed La Rochelle during the
afternoon of 30 July and anchored off Ile
earth just above our atmosphere – a sight
I find reassuring from a navigation point of
view. Then the stars reveal themselves
one by one – great constellations
incomprehensibly far away but still
twinkling, fulfilling their part in the
performance. Not to be outdone the sea
shows its hand with iridescent sparkles
from photoplanktonic life as it is agitated
by the movement of the bow-wave, a trail
of green emitted among the prop wash
like some futuristic plasma drive. All
around you, sudden bursts of green light
as individual organisms ignite their life’s
supply of chemicals in one last explosion
just to be noticed. It’s mesmerising and
before long is brought to a close as the
sun reappears, wiping the canvas clean
ready for the next performance.
With the sun came the wind that allowed
us to turn off the engine. The peace and
quiet is wonderful and brings that feeling
of self sufficiency longed for by sailors.
We’d been fishing since the start ofTOP Solar panels are adjustable to make best use of available sunshine
ABOVE Twenty Twenty making smooth progress under headsail and reefed mainde Ré where we made fools of ourselves
trying to pick up a mooring buoy. Ironic
that just before we set off on the biggest
journey of our lives we couldn’t manage to
do the very skill that we had mastered on
day one of owning the boat.
Morning broke to the most beautiful
sunrise I’d ever seen. A golden globe rose
beyond the road bridge which connects La
Rochelle to the Island. A mirrored finish to
the sea reflected the rays back up into the
sky intensifying its colour. Just the windlass
broke the silence as we slipped away on
the longest passage we had ever done.
It was obviously not going to be a fast
and furious start to the passage but we
sailed without the engine until night fell
when we needed to motor-sail to keep up
our speed. Sailing into the night is an
experience I’ll never forget. With the
absence of light pollution the universe
opens up its curtains and puts on a
personal performance just for you.
First to appear are the satellites orbiting ➜