Drifting in the Fog. Day 54

Drifting in the fog. Day 54. 570 miles to Cape Horn. A momentous event occurred during the night: we exceeded the maximum track size in the navigation software. We’ve now covered more than 5,000 nautical miles. The navigator suggested creating a new file and archiving the old one. That’s a hell of a distance we’ve covered in one go, though. .. .. .. During the day, another momentous event caught up with us: the mainsail tore. The genoa has long been sitting quietly furled, awaiting repairs, but the main sail had never seriously let us down before. Yet in the strong following wind, a seam chafed through against the spreaders. The weather allowed us to take down the main and haul it into the saloon to stitch it on the sewing machine. I couldn’t help the captain and the sailor with this important task, so Nastya kept the machine from falling off the table while simultaneously feeding the stiff, heavy sailcloth through it. That was because, just ten minutes earlier, a beam-on wave had rolled the boat so sharply that the salad-and-sauce mixture of canned fish and runny Mexican salsa, blended in a container, did a somersault and landed upside down on the galley floor. It looked, pardon me, as if someone had thrown up in a washing machine a couple of times. The spicy fish sauce covered the walls, the stove, the cupboards, the mast and even the ceiling! Never mind the floor. There was nowhere to stand; the only patches free of the stuff were directly beneath my feet. I won’t quote verbatim everything I had to say—or rather, yell into the foggy distance—about that. It took me forty minutes to clean up. And everyone went without salad sauce. . . . .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ... .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . The forecast promises a headwind lull. The winds curl around it so amusingly: it looks as though the sharp barbs, first with three feathers in their tails, then two, and now only one, drunkenly launched into a dance and failed to pull properly out of a steep dive. And so now it’s blowing from the Antarctic Peninsula, but only weakly. The sails are slatting, the yacht is wallowing, and we’re getting nowhere fast. We’re still making 2–3 miles per hour, but we can’t boast about the direction. For now, we’re being set north. We did manage to skirt the main headwind slightly, which is good. And the captain and sailor have just come back below from the deck, saying how warm it is without the wind! About eight degrees. They hardly even froze while taking down the staysail. Of course—why would they be cold? In the mornings it’s about 10 degrees above zero inside the boat, and there’s no wind there either. So no one freezes. . . . .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ... .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . This morning I decided to take a firm hand with the younger young sailor’s studies, and wrote an assignment on the board in marker detailing what a first-form pupil was required to do. The child was so impressed by the solemnity of the occasion that she even pulled herself together and sat down to do maths. But without a regular habit of studying, it took a long time to set the problems out in her exercise book. She could have rattled through all the problems orally in an hour, but in writing she had to wrestle with the abbreviated working, which her teacher—that is, me—was making her do in table form today, so that later she would find it easier, and more familiar, to calculate money in Exel. We quietly shifted the English and Russian lessons to tomorrow, but Lada, having skipped the proper number of hops for a young lady during break, nominated herself for a technology lesson. She is cooking bean soup with nuts for the whole family, following a recipe from a book for girls. So I, personally, have been spared from preparing yet another dish to be splattered over the bulkheads. I hope the young sailor’s soup meets a more enviable fate and the crew won’t be left without dinner. In honour of the Old New Year, we decided to open that very 0.33-litre can of Coke which, for the duration of the expedition, has been designated as champagne. . . . .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ... .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . Alongside all the cleaning and sewing, we are working on another project without giving our brains or tongues a moment’s rest. And this is where we need your help, because a proper brainstorming session requires more brains than those contained in just four skulls. Folks, please join our brainstorming session. Write in the comments in the groups or on the website what you imagine when you hear the words Life and travel aboard a yacht. We’re interested in everything, from emotions and the first images that pop into your head to everyday life and all that. We want to understand what comes to mind for people whose view hasn’t been clouded by yachting, because ours is no longer objective—it is thoroughly clouded. Thank you, dear friends, for all your feedback, your warm words of support, your good wishes, comments, anxieties and joys, and for being here with us, at the very edge of the world! . . . .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ... .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . For everyone who may have missed something, here is a reminder. Friends, our circumnavigation has not gone off course, been interrupted or even slowed down. It is currently tropical-storm season south of the equator. Instead of quietly waiting it out in New Zealand or on an equatorial atoll, we decided to go by way of Cape Horn. Along the way, we conducted a scientific and practical investigation of the phantom islands of the South Pacific, including the Maria Theresa Reef made famous by Jules Verne. You can find the expedition chronicles and results in our previous reports. By the end of hurricane season, we plan to return to our route and continue westward through Oceania. We decided on this 10,000-mile detour to fulfil a childhood dream. . . . .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ... .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . Hugs to you all from a foggy and rainy, but not very windy today, point at coordinates 56.38S and 84.28W! We should still be visible under MMSI 273334590 on marinetraffic.com. We wish you all a New Year rich in joyful events!. . .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. ... .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. .. . And an enormous thank-you for your tangible contribution to our expedition project via PayPal.me/TravelyFamily to Igor K., Pavel Sh. from Israel, Yaroslav V. from Moscow, Tatiana D. from Surgut, Alexander B. from Novosibirsk, Alexey U. from Kazan, and Lyudmila P. from Vladivostok! Our dear companions and comrades-in-arms, you motivate the first mate to pull herself together and go save the world. Thanks to you, more and more people are fulfilling their greatest dreams!