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| Day 99 |
14 July 2000 |
| Aru Sea |
| "Hitching a ride on the waves" |
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By breakfast time a bit of optimism creeps back into my mind as
we pick up a current that is going our way for a change. The
wind is still strong from straight ahead and the sea is still
quite lumpy, but I decide we should have another crack at
sailing. We set the foresail and mainsail and cut the engines.
The peace is bliss.
Duyfken's motion is much kinder under sail. The sails heel her
over but they steady her up so she doesn't roll nearly so much.
She is also at a greater angle to the waves than before, so the
ship rises to them and lets them slide past under the keel
rather than bashing through them head-on as before. Much more
comfortable.
As the wind gradually eases we set more sail. First Andrea's
watch hoists the mizzen because John, on the whipstaff, is
complaining of lee-helm, which means that the ship wants to fall
off, away from the wind. Setting the mizzen, right at the stern,
will help keep the ship heading up on a course close to the
wind, making it easier to steer. Once the mizzen is drawing John
complains of weather-helm. The mizzen has over-compensated and
the ship now wants to round up into the wind. Gary abuses John
for never being satisfied, and John, in reply, accuses Gary of
being the fussiest sail-trimmer outside of the America's Cup.
Don't be too alarmed by the bad language that passes between
these two. They are always arguing. Robbie thinks they should
get married. The fore-topsail is loosed (shaken free of its
gaskets, or securing ropes) and hoisted, which cures the weather
helm.
Next to go up is the main-topsail. The two topsails are strong
pulling sails because they are up in clear air, above the
turbulence caused by the waves. Last to be shaken out of its
furl is the spritsail, the smallest of Duyfken's sails. Slung
right forward under the bowsprit, it acts to aid steering more
than it helps pull the ship along. Still, it strains at its
sheets like the rest of them, so it must be doing something.
We make two good tacks and by evening have gained ten miles to
windward of where we cut the engines this morning. Then John
pulls in a beautiful big Spanish Mackerel. Things are looking
up.
Until we tack again. Our new course takes us back over our track
from this morning. The current we had in our favour has gone.
That's the trouble with hitch-hiking: your lift can drop you at
any time.
But hark! I think I hear the sound of diesel engines.
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Peter Manthorpe
Master
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