Alone on a Wide Wide Sea Page 13

  1600 hrs Thurs 13 jan 45’ 41”S 156’ 19”E 5 knots

  Love your emails. I love y’all. Miss y’all. I read them over and over. Yes Mum head’s fine, no concussion. Yes Grandpa course I’ll keep the Greek flag flying all the way, right up there with the Aussie one. Kitty 4 is a real beaut. Got y’all to thank for that, and Dad and Mr Dodds. She’s a real marvel. Nothing I can teach her. She’s teaching me. Got to be honest, it’s a whole lot easier living alone on this boat. Dad was the best sailor in the world, but the untidiest. And he always hated me tidying up after him. He liked his own mess he said, knew where everything was. So I’d have to wait till he went up on deck then just tidy everything away quickly while he wasn’t there. When he came back he’d never even notice I’d done it. Sound familiar Mum? He just loved living in a tip, that’s all and I didn’t. But give Dad his due, he was a brilliant cook (never washed up but he cooked like a dream).

  He’d do all the cooking and let me sail the boat. All right so it was baked beans with everything. But he made the best bread, learned it off you Mum, the tastiest bread I ever tasted. Can’t be bothered much with cooking at the moment. Just open a tin of something, anything, wolf it down then have my hot chocolate. That’s what I live for, hot chocolate. I sit there all cold and wet and drink it down. It shivers the cold right out of me, warms me up from the inside up, reaches toeses and noses, all my freezing cold bits and pieces.

  Decided this morning to learn The Ancient Mariner all the way through before I get to England. Think Dad would like that. Know the first verse already. Here it is. Not cheating, promise:

  It is an ancient mariner

  And he stoppeth one of three.

  By thy long beard and glittering eye,

  Now wherefore stopp’st thou me?

  Up on deck earlier going along nice and easy, brilliant sunshine. Saw the albatross again. It’s the same one, sure of it now. He brought some of his friends with him to check me out. Seems to like me cos he stayed around for a while, they all did. He came so close I could see right into his eye and he could see into mine. I can’t get it out of my head that maybe it’s Dad keeping an eye out for me, doing this with me just as he always wanted to. When he flew off a few minutes ago I missed him, and the whole ocean seemed so empty and hostile too. I felt alone for the first time since I left.

  Waves 10 metres and higher. Winds 30-40 knots all the time. Set the storm jib, not easy with the whole world pitching and rolling around me. Been up on deck doing too many sail changes, fifth today. Got to think ahead more. Got to limit the sail changes. Each one takes a lot out of me. When I get tired I make mistakes. Took the skin off my knuckles the last time I did it. Stupid. Little wounds don’t heal out here easily. I’ve got two ginormous blisters already. Must look after them else they’ll fester and festering isn’t good, leads to all sort of nasties.

  Wind patterns all over the place down here. Got to learn to predict the unpredictable, Allie – I can hear Dad saying it now. Doing my best, Dad. Halfway to Stewart Island, halfway to N.Z. Hot chocolate to celebrate. Listened to Coldplay. One or the other cheered me up – don’t know which. Any news about Kitty, Mum? Be so so good if we could find her. Love you. A

  And Now the Storm Blast Came

  1700hrs Sat 15 Jan 46’ 50”S 162’ 49”E

  Biggest storm last night, worst I’ve had. Gusts over 80 knots, waves 10 metres plus but the self-steering brought us through, easy as pie as Dad used to say. Can’t say I enjoyed it much but Kitty 4 took it all in her stride. Made for it she is. Sat down below, wind howling all around and learnt another verse of the Ancient Mariner – can do the first eleven verses now without looking:

  And now the STORM-BLAST came, and he

  Was Tyrannous and strong:

  He struck with his o’er taking wings

  And chased us south along

  Little strange and little funny to be sitting down here saying that over and over. I had to shout it out loud so I could hear myself. But it passed the time, kept me happy, made me think about something else besides the next towering wave out there. It was “Tyrannous and strong” all right. that Coleridge bloke knew what he was talking about.

  Better now, heavy seas still but not anything like it was last night.

  Averaging 5-8 knots, so that means we’ve done about 700 miles so far. Yippee! Hee hee!!! Well done Kitty 4 well done me! Good to know just how well Kitty 4 handles herself, feel she could cope with anything. I’ve always had confidence in her, but last night she really proved she could take it. She’s so brave, so clever and I’m so lucky to be doing this with her. Lucky, lucky, lucky.

  Lots of birds about today and best of all my albatross is here too. Just making sure we’re all right after the storm, that’s what I think. He really is the king of birds. He’s got to have a wing span of 3 metres, massive, magnificent, MASSIFICENT, better word, my word. invented words are better words, mean more, say more. maybe that’s the first time anyone has ever written that word. I like that, doing something for the first time, like going places no one’s been before. At sea you do that all the time. I mean you sail up a wave and every one of them is unique, a new discovery, never seen before. You see clouds no one’s seen before, and birds too. Course other sailors have seen albatross but not here not now not exactly the way I’m seeing mine. Difficult to put feelings into words but just want to say that’s what’s so great about being here cos it’s like no one’s ever been here before, that I’ve discovered it all for the first time. That’s what it feels like anyway. Going on a bit. Sorry but I do love it, makes me feel so good, so lucky to be alive.

  You should see my albatross. he doesn’t fly, he doesn’t need to. he just finds an airwave and floats – and you don’t see his feet at all. They’re tucked up neatly underneath him. There’s hundreds of little birds all around him, recognised some storm petrels I think – Dad was better on birds than me, knew them all, knew so much. They dash about showing off, wing tips just not skimming the sea. And they’re so fast, here, gone, swirling away. Wonderful.

  Drying out after the storm, both of us, Kitty 4 and me. Soaked through, sodden. nowhere’s dry, down in the cabin or up on deck. Not complaining, just dripping.

  Reported sightings of icebergs little way south. got to be careful, really careful. icebergs worry me silly. So lots of cold sleepless nights ahead up there on watch. Wish the self-steering could do lookout as well. That’s what I’ll do one day, invent a self-steering system that does lookout as well. Easy. No problem. Make my fortune. Cool or what? Call it Stavros self-steering, all right Grandpa?

  1641hrs Sun 16 Jan 2005

  Sorry to hear about your cold Grandpa. You’re always going on about me taking my vitamins and you go and get a cold. Stay in the warm. look after yourself. promise?

  Fog now and rain, so got our lights on all the time. Icebergs don’t see lights but other ships might. All you can do is listen and hope. Not too worried I tell myself cos there’s a lot of water out here and very few ships. Still you think about it. It niggles at you all the time. Did a bit of fishing, but no luck. 82 miles now to the Snares south of Stewart Island. Cooked myself a great feast cos it’s so miserable up there. No fish, so baked beans (of course) sausages and eggs and…and…and…wait for it two mugs of hot chocolate. Feel a lot better. Fog lifted a little so I could listen to Dad’s Beatles CD, played his favourite song – here comes the sun – thought it might make the sun come out. Great song, but still no sign of sun up there. Read some of Dad’s story. I love the parts when he was at his happiest, when Marty and Dad were living with Aunty Megs. Love the bit about that wombat “Henry’s horrible hat hole,” always makes me laugh.

  No albatross today. Probably can’t find us in the fog. Thought I saw a dolphin though v close to the boat. Can’t be sure. Sea goes very quiet in fog. Even the waves seem to whisper. Can’t spend too much time down below. Too risky. Got to keep an eye out. Got to keep listening. v. tiring. want to sleep. mustn’t. got to go. Miss y’all. Think
of you. Love you. A. P.S. Any news about Kitty?

  1015hrs 17 Jan 41’ 57”S 167’ 31”E

  Fog’s lifted but feeling a bit low. Not enough sleep. All last night on watch and got to thinking about Dad again, I mean about him being here with me. Maybe it was reading his story that upset me, remembering all the sad things that happened to him. I shouldn’t be sad because I know that he had good times too, specially during the best parts of his life, and with you and me Mum. But I just couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted to be here doing this with me, that he made so much of this boat with his own hands. Maybe it’s because I’ve always been so used to being on Kitty Four with him.

  Maybe I was just imagining things, but I don’t think so. I just felt he was there with me all night. I even thought I heard him humming London Bridge. I thought maybe telling you about it might help me make some sense of it. But it hasn’t. Mum, I’m really beginning to believe he’s still here with me on Kitty 4, like we really are doing this trip together just as we’d always planned we would. But there’s something more. I need to believe it. I think the only way I’m going to get to England is to believe he’s with me. at the same time I know I’ve got to stop feeling so sad about him, stop missing him so much. So I mustn’t read his story again. I won’t think of the past. Just focus on the here and now, it’s the only way. Not going crazy, Mum, promise. We’ll make it. Dad and me and Kitty 4. We’ll make it. No worries. xxx A

  1250hrs Tues 18 Jan 47’ 31”S 170’ 36”E

  Hi Mum hi Grandpa. Feeling a whole lot better. Not sad any more. Slept really well. Didn’t want to get up at all. Always the same. Tell you why.

  1. You don’t want to get up there and get wet again soon as you stick your nose out up top.

  2. Socks. You can always smell where they are and you don’t want to go near them ever again.

  3. Boots always waiting for you where you left them. Step right in, they say, and it’ll be lovely and wet and cold, hee hee.

  But once you’re in your boots, in your wet weather gear which is always still wet, it doesn’t seem to matter any more. It’s done. I make a nice hot chocolate to warm myself through. Then suddenly I’m up there in the cockpit out of the stench of socks and diesel and damp, and the ocean is heaving all around, and it’s the best place in the whole world to be. And this morning, guess what, my albatross was back. He was there waiting for me. And…And…And…he’s brought dolphins with him, dozens of them dancing all around me. Never been so happy in my life. What was it you called me once, Mum? Moody? Moi? OK you were right. Waves go up and down – why shouldn’t I?? Even my blisters are all better. Love you lots. Allie

  Just Staying Alive

  1830hrs Sat 22 Jan

  DUNEDIN NZ!

  Hi Mum, hi Grandpa. Sorree. Sorree, sorry you haven’t heard much from me for a while. Been a bit busy just staying alive. Can’t say I wasn’t warned. Grib weather forecasts were the worst ever, so I knew it was coming. Trouble was I couldn’t get out of the way of it. Ellen MacArthur would have been able to go round it, dodge it, or race ahead of it. She can do fast, I can’t. Kitty 4 doesn’t do fast. But she does do brave. And it wasn’t just grib that warned me, my albatross did too. Not kidding. For two whole days before the storm he never left us. He was telling us, I’m sure he was. He just hung there above us looking down on us. He’d never stayed so close before nor for so long.

  The storm came suddenly, 50-60 in squalls and huge blue waves so high you didn’t want to look but you had to. And blue so deep you could see right into it. Just before it happened I was doing a sail change and clipped on, thank goodness. You know how you can feel thunder is about before you hear it, like the sky is taking a deep breath before it lets rip. It was like that. There was a strange silence and a stillness all around. Like the sea was waiting for it to happen. Then I looked up and saw this wall of water 15 metres high at least and it was breaking right over me, and my albatross was skimming along the crest of it like he was telling me to hang on. So I hung on. Kitty 4 was knocked down, rolled through 140 degrees. The mast was under the water. I thought that was it, that she’d just go on rolling and turn turtle and that would be that. End of story, I thought. But it wasn’t the end of the story. She lay there on her side for a few moments like she was having a bit of a rest and then she just flipped right back up again, a bit like Kitty in my bath back home when I was little. Everything was crashing about. I was chucked about like a wet rag doll. Not a single bit of me that wasn’t bruised. But no broken bones, and what’s a bruise or two when you’re still alive.

  And that was just the beginning. Went on for nearly thirty hours. By the time it was over Kitty 4 had taken a real battering – she was in a much worse state than me which is why Mum, Grandpa, I’m here in Dunedin. Had to put in for repairs. The light fitting on the mast head needs draining for a start. Needed a new set of steering lines cos they had chafed badly. Can’t do without my self-steering gizmo. It’s my magic pathfinder through the waves, like my best friend. Got to look after him. And there’s a mainsail that’s torn, so that needed fixing too. In a way I’m glad I got knocked down, glad I had to come into Dunedin. Taught me a lesson. Been a chance to reorganise, tie everything down properly that flew around. thought I’d done that already but the stormfound me out. Won’t be my last knockdown on this trip. Be better set up next time.

  And anyway I needed to do some shopping too, more plasters and antiseptic cream. baked beans and hot chocolate supplies were low. Everyone v. kind here in Dunedin, v. helpful. Lots of press people came to see me so lots of posing by Kitty 4. Maybe you saw some of it. Don’t worry Grandpa I made sure I had my Stavros Boats cap on. you’re going to be selling loads of boats in Dunedin after this, all over NZ. And guess what I’ve got free bed and breakfast for all the time I’m here – gift from the town. Isn’t that the best?

  2015hrs same day

  Just spoken to you on the phone. So good to hear your voices. Made me cry though. And like I said Mum don’t worry, I promise I wouldn’t be going on with this if I thought the boat wasn’t up to it. She’s fine. She won’t get there in a hurry, but she’ll get there,bobbing all the way. Best bobbing boat in the world. I’m fine. Like I told you the bruises don’t hurt like they did. pretty dramatic to look at though. got one all the colours of the rainbow right across my ribs. spectacular. Been having lots of sleep in my nice warm bed and I’ve had lots of long hot baths. I’m taking on all the warmth I can. Like a camel taking on water before a journey across the desert, I’m going to need it, I know that. Told you most of my news on the phone, but must tell you about my albatross.

  Saw him last night, but only in my dreams. Dreamt of Dad too. Can’t remember all that much of it, never can remember my dreams properly, but I think I remember Dad and the albatross seemed to be one and the same somehow. One or the other of them, and I don’t know which, was singing London Bridge is Falling Down. Weird or what?

  All being well should be on our way again soon. Weather pattern looking better, so that’s good. Bout time. I want some nice easy sailing. Oh yes, and I can do up to verse 20 of the Ancient Mariner by heart now. v pleased with myself! Been learning a couple of verses a day in the bath since I’ve been here. Don’t think I understood till now why Dad loved it so much. I just lie there soaking in my bath saying the lines over and over:

  God save thee ancient Mariner!

  From the fiends that plague thee thus!

  Why look’st thou so? – with my crossbow

  I shot the ALBATROSS

  That’s verse 20. Sad but so beautiful. I’ll know it all word perfect by the time I get to England. Promise. A

  P.S. Still no news of Kitty? Keep thinking and hoping no news will soon be good news.

  1002hrs Sat 29 Jan 48’ 12”S 173’ 45”E

  6 knots. heading south in brilliant sunshine, reef in the mainsail. The mend is holding well which is good news. It’s all good news because my albatross is back. It’s like he’s been waiting for me out here a
ll the time I was in Dunedin. Seen plenty of them about, but they just fly by on their way to somewhere else. He’s the only one who hangs about. He’s like my guardian angel. So I’ve got Dad’s lucky key and I’ve got a guardian angel too. I’m well looked after Mum. I keep throwing him some scraps because I really want him to stay. The trouble is that as soon as I throw him food his friends come back and bully him off it. I’ve decided to do some more fishing from now on – never did it with Dad, he didn’t like it. It’s too easy just to open a tin. Besides I love fish, full of protein and good for me. Keeps me strong. Don’t like the idea of killing them, but do like eating them. So I’m going to keep a line out and baited whenever I can. I’ll get lucky sooner or later.

  1122hrs Sun 30 Jan 49’ 02”S 175’ 38”E

  More fog. Can’t see a thing, except a bit of sea around us and my albatross. flies in and out of the fog like a ghost, a welcome ghost though. Doing less than 2 knots, not even enough to charge the battery with the turbine and there’s not enough sun for the solar panel to be much use either. need a minimum of 4 knots to keep going and that’s with everything off except the laptop and the instruments. Can’t afford to use diesel to motor out of it. Can’t afford to use laptop any more either. So I’m turning you off. Byeee Mum. Bye Grandpa. A