After the St Malo Race my blog seriously upset our navigator, Gareth. His tactics were spot on and I was well out of order to publicly question them. However there was a mood in the crew that we could and should do better.
The Channel Race flew by. Puma stole a march on us leaving the Solent, partly because we still need an awful lot more practice. When we were all becalmed outside The Needles the sea was like a mirror and I fell asleep in the hot sun. "Wake up you dozy old fool, the wind's filling in."
The turning mark was the sewer outfall at Saltdean. But this time we were not going through the motions. A fast run in from Saltdean saw us claw back some of the we had lost to Puma and 14th place in class. The wind speed and direction evidently suited us and we were able to unleash our A sail. Also the vote to use only the better helms had been vindicated.
The days flew by and we were on the start line again, for The Fastnet. I have never been in a more crowded race start, 71 yachts in our class, mostly piling into the Cowes shore to avoid the tide. A spectator tied to one of the visitors buoys had a rude awkening when he was T-boned. We were protested by a Skipper pumped up on adrenaline.
As we left the Solent Alice fell heavily and at first I thought her race was over. When we got going again a vicious tide rip nearly threw us on the shingle. I was soaked from head to foot. I looked into the adjacent wave trough and could see orange shingle. The next thing I remember is Stacy and his dongle as we passed Lands End. At some stage Jacko had fallen and was discovered laying on the aft deck with a nasty cut below his eye. The cut was patched up by Jimbo. Jacko looked distinctly second hand.
Gareth, Master Tactician, set us a course to a point East of The Fastnet to take advantage of the forecast wind shift. "Get tidied up and be prepared for a wild, wet and windy night."
And so it proved to be, a bumpy ride in the pitch black conditions I truly hate. I could barely see the instruments in the rain, never mind try and steer a course. The numbers flew up and down following the action as the waves knocked us off course. I twice soaked Conrad to the skin as I drove through waves which foamed over the companion way. Poor Jacko was mute witness to my shocking helming.
I saw little of Dom at this stage, he was on the other watch, but whenever I did see him he was on the wheel and wearing a broad smile. " Swiss sailors are the best in the world.", " Yeah, like get real !"
We rounded The Fastnet in a light breeze. In about 20th place. Not bad. Not bad at all. Thanks largely I suspect to Gareth's excellent routing. And Jacko's ability to tweak the sails and find an extra half knot of boat speed. I concentrated hard on the racing but did note that half the sky was flaming red, promising sun and light winds ahead. By now we were in a routine and it seemed like moments later it was sunset again and we rounded the Scillies, still in about 20th place, passing close to the lighthouse.
I was below when it all went Bong, Pete Tong. I heard a sound like a sack of coal being falling to the ground. Alice had fainted. She was helped below. Alex and Jimbo nursed her. We took medical advice. Although just outside St Mary's we should motor to Penzance where Alice could be checked out and proper hospital facilities were available. For you Tommy, the race is over. We arrived at dawn. Buoyed by thoughts of a slap up breakfast we awaited the outcome of the medical check. We could continue.
A highly divisive vote was then called: should we motor back to The Scillies, restart the race and apply for a time allowance? Our adrenaline was gone. It was decided to motor into Plymouth. Dom and Jimbo were particularly upset. It will take a long time for them to come to terms with being denied the opportunity to complete the race.
The Fastnet is a tough race. Frankly this year not tough physically, but mentally for us it was as tough as it comes. That's what you sign up for and that's what you get. We will never know what might have been.
Allie and the crew of Puma gave us a riotous welcome as we motored up to the dock in Plymouth. Alice was sufficiently recovered to party like a wild child and various plans are being hatched to get back on the water again.
Its a big thank you to Jacko, who with his new scar looks even more like Captain Jack Sparrer, to GT, the great tactician and of course a big thank you to the rest of the crew, for putting up with me.
Mrs Whall says she has enjoyed the break.
