One Girl One Dream

by Dekker, Laura

  I’m standing on the foredeck enjoying the way she’s taking on the wild sea. This is more like it! She’s now sailing at about 6.5 knots and I see the Cape Verde Islands — Santa Lúcia, São Vincente and Santa Antão — disappearing on my starboard side.

  I’m sitting in the cockpit enjoying everything around me. At night the starlit sky is amazing, and I spend hours looking at it. At about 11, I try to get some sleep, but it’s not to be. I’m just behind the last island and the wind and sea are very variable, which means that I’m going to have to watch that Guppy sticks to her course. At about 04.00, I eventually allow myself some sleep and dive into my bunk.

  When I wake up a little later, the wind has swung 180 degrees and Guppy is sailing back on her tracks. Hmm . . .

  DAY 2: 3 December

  At daybreak the first rays of sunshine wake me and Guppy is still on course. There’s a strong beam wind, and under full sail Guppy is sailing at some 7 knots. That’s even better than yesterday. For the first hour I just enjoy watching Guppy dashing through the waves. A pod of dolphins breaks through the white horses on the sea, but they only play with Guppy for a short while and then quickly disappear out of sight. I play some Nirvana and go into the cabin to get some breakfast.

  Towards the end of the morning, Guppy has sailed 123 miles and still has 2100 to go, but two hours later the wind drops and we experience light variable breezes from all points of the compass. Damn, it was too good to be true! I hoist the code zero, but even this sail collapses like a soufflé. There’s nothing for it but to update my blog and send it off to the home front, but even the satellite phone is not responding. After the third ‘transmission error’ warning, there’s a light breeze on deck. I quit updating my blog and busy myself with the sails. More sail is needed! Up goes the genoa; I think it’ll help Guppy sail closer to the wind. As the wind continues to freshen, I decide to leave the code zero up as well. Guppy is now sailing well with mizzen, mainsail, jib, genoa and code zero. There’s nothing more I can put up and she’s going well. The speed is about 4 knots with only 10 knots of wind. I wouldn’t mind going faster, but this is fine for now.

  It stays a little overcast the whole day, and now that the sun is setting I’m beginning to feel cold, and that at a latitude of 17 degrees north. I certainly seem to have got used to the heat.

  At night the wind falls away entirely and Guppy cruises on the Yanmar at about 3.5 knots. I’ve rolled up the genoa and jib. I hate these light winds and being becalmed, but there’s nothing I can do about it. Guppy has covered 207 miles and we still have 2016 to go. She’s done only 84 miles today. Argh, this could take some time. Damn wind, come back!

  DAY 3: 4 December

  After a lovely freshwater shower from my water bottle supply, I go and read on the foredeck and gaze over the mirror-like, endless blue sea. Every now and then there’s a gust of wind that I try to catch with my code zero. Due to Guppy’s movements, the code zero is chafing the rigging and might tear. At last there’s some wind, but when it blows, it’s a headwind. Nevertheless, I keep on trying. Guppy is still making some progress on the little Yanmar in order to avoid swaying as much as possible. Oh well, I continue to hope for wind from the right direction and carry on reading my book.

  Just before dark, a lock of hair blows into my face. Wait a minute — wind! Yeah, a breath of wind. It’s a headwind but better than nothing. Taking a more southerly tack, the sails fill and I can switch off the engine. It’s good to see the sails doing something other than flapping listlessly to and fro. As opposed to how I felt on my previous two voyages, I’m now feeling really great and have got back into my sailing rhythm after only half a day. It’s a wonderful prospect to have a few weeks of open sea and space around me and to be able to feel at one with Nature. Tonight I’m going to make rice, chicken and satay sauce. I’m feeling on top of the world.

  DAY 4: 5 December

  Oh no, we’re becalmed again! I must have slept in an awkward position last night because I have a stiff neck this morning. There’s a crappy mega-high swell that’s got Guppy rolling heavily. Now that I’m truly awake and sitting in the cockpit, I notice a small tear in the code zero. Shit, it’s probably been flapping against the spreaders and diamond rigging half the night. Armed with some tape, thread and needle, I lower the code zero. As always, I’m attached to the lifeline, and that’s certainly no luxury today. Now that the sail has been removed, Guppy rolls from gunnel to gunnel. This swell is really something. Guppy is pitching so much that I’m worried that the code zero will tear completely if I hoist it again. I decide to roll out the genoa to the point that it doesn’t hit anything, and this, together with the taut mainsail in the centre, helps to steady her a little. Even so, the genoa continues to flap, but, luckily, it can take more than the code zero.

  They are celebrating Sinterklaas in the Netherlands today. (Otherwise known as Saint Nicholas, this is a traditional Dutch feast on 5 December during which gifts and sweets are exchanged. Not to be confused with Santa Claus or Father Christmas.) I wonder if Sinterklaas visits people at sea. He might even bring me some wind! I’ve had no wind for two days and I’ve had enough of these strange cross-seas. Sigh. There’s nothing I can do about it. I have to respect the ways of the sea and the weather; they rule out here and are mightier than Guppy and me.

  I go to bed early, and while I’m asleep the wind picks up. I fly on deck and hoist the code zero. It opens up and stays that way. Yippee! I switch off the Yanmar that has been running for the past two days and listen to the silence and my courageous Guppy. She’s making speed at last. My neck is still aching, and I wonder what strange posture I must have slept in with all that rolling.

  DAY 5: 6 December

  The wind continues to blow. Olé, olé, olé! And this time in just the right direction. Guppy is sailing at some 5.5 knots on the code zero, mainsail and genoa, and, after four days at sea, I see my first yacht. I pick up my binoculars. Wow: four spreaders. It’s a big ship. Why on earth are they sailing without sails? It’s approaching fast and definitely not on the wind. I call the ship on the VHF and they tell me there isn’t enough wind. Guppy is doing 4.5 knots with far less sail capacity, so a ship like that could be doing 5 to 6 knots in the same wind. Oh well, to each his own logic. It’s a beautiful day; a little cloudy, but I don’t mind that right now. The sea is still pretty turbulent. The swell comes from ahead, and the waves and wind from astern. The L-shaped chocolate letter I started eating to celebrate Sinterklaas has melted in the heat, so I gather the bits in a mug and let them melt to drink later.

  A spell of teasing winds warns me of a possible squall. I know that the weather can change in minutes. Suddenly it starts to blow much harder and I spot a heavy downpour ahead. I run and quickly lower the code zero. Just as I’ve stowed the sail through the fore hatch, it starts to pour and there are enormous gusts of wind. I also take down the mainsail, and I’m left with just the jib and mizzen. Guppy sails on merrily. I’m fully enjoying the rain and strong wind on the foredeck. This is my first really heavy squall and it’s quite an experience. The rain suddenly halts, but the wind continues and Guppy speeds through the waves at 7 knots. It’s cloudy and I’m wet and soon feel cold. I take shelter behind the sprayhood until the hefty storm subsides. It continues to blow for a while. In the evening the wind drops a bit, but Guppy continues to sail at a steady 5.5 knots. After preparing a tasty macaroni cheese dish for myself, I relax on deck and enjoy the sunset that manages to be different every day. Today the unusual clouds make it even more awesome. At about 19.30, it’s dark and I’m looking at a pitch black sea and sky. No stars tonight . . .

  DAY 6: 7 December

  Crash, bang! I’m thrown from one side of my bunk to the other. There’s a strong beam wind and the waves are coming from all directions. Guppy is being tossed around, but is going like the clappers — up to 9 knots at times. There are no dry spots to sit, so I remain under the sprayhood near the cabin entrance. Oh crap! Not a day to sit inside and read, really . . .
Burp! It’s OK, I’m managing to keep everything inside, but they could tone down these waves for me. I’ve just calculated that if Guppy keeps up these speeds, I could be on Saint Martin as early as 17 December. It would be so awesome to reach Saint Martin exactly a year after my attempted escape from the Netherlands to this island. I’m really looking forward to seeing everyone I know there again, and to explore the island properly this time. I wonder if that boat I wanted to buy at the time, the Duende, is still for sale.

  It’s wintertime in the Netherlands, where it’s cold and dark, while I’ve got the sun shining right above me and it’s really hot. It’s wonderful to be alone at sea like this, hundreds of miles away from rocks, shallows and busy shipping routes. It does, however, make me super-happy when I receive a text message from Dad and I’m able to send one back.

  I haven’t exactly done a lot today, but the day seems to have flown past; and talking of flying, if Guppy continues this way she’ll soon take off. The speed doesn’t drop below 7.5 knots. I’m surrounded by dark clouds, but there’s no rain yet. Wow, the average speed has now reached 8.5 knots. I think I’m going to reef, but when I get up on deck I change my mind. I’m so enjoying the feeling of Guppy speeding over the blue ocean so bravely. She gives me a wink with her foamy, white moustache, and I give her free rein for a while. This is such a blast! It’s getting too dark to write. Let’s hope the clouds move on so I can see the stars tonight.

  DAY 7: 8 December

  When I poke my head through the hatch in the morning and wake up after a couple of seconds, I notice something that troubles me. Guppy is sailing calmly, but we’re surrounded by pitch-black clouds. A lot of wind is on its way. I prepare a quick breakfast while I can, and my crackers stay on my plate for a change instead of flying across the cabin. I’m having my breakfast in the cockpit when a flying fish lands on my shoes and smears them with its sticky scales. There are another two on deck and one on the swimming platform. Air pirates! Can’t they watch where they’re flying?

  The wind has picked up a lot and I see one curtain of rain after the other. Amazingly, none of them close over Guppy. I could’ve done with a freshwater shower. The weather remains variable all day and I have my hands full changing the sails.

  As night falls, I have some frankfurters for dinner and experience a fleeting moment of loneliness. Strange . . . I suddenly miss land, trees and people. It’s not that I’m bored, and Guppy is putting in a great performance, but I really wouldn’t mind going for a walk or a run or having a good conversation with someone. Fortunately, the feeling doesn’t last long and I’m cheered by the fact that I could be on Saint Martin within 10 days at this speed.

  DAY 8: 9 December

  The strong wind continues overnight, and when I wake up in the morning Guppy is going very fast. In the afternoon, I decide to reduce sail and reef the mainsail. Not a bad decision, as the skies get darker and darker and the wind velocity increases. Suddenly there’s a mega-squall with a blast of wind. I try to roll in the genoa, but the furling-line guide block breaks in two. Shit! Now the furling line has to run straight off the winch, which damages the edge of the cockpit. The wind and waves come from all sides and I need to man the rudder. Guppy is still sailing with the mizzen, reefed mainsail and storm jib, which is way too much sail. The wind is now at least 9 on the Beaufort scale and I’m trying to keep Guppy hard up to the wind with her nose into the waves. The white horses are flying horizontally across the sea as Guppy is hit by wave after wave. When there’s a lull after a while and both rain and wind drop a little, I take my chance to drop the mainsail. Just in time before the next squall hits us. Guppy can now run downwind and I finally have the situation under control. I’m freezing and let the windvane take over the steering while I shelter inside from the pouring rain and crashing waves. Shit, that wasn’t exactly fun! Certainly not a good experience to be out in 45 knots of wind in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean with way too much sail up. If Guppy had been under full sail in those conditions, she would have surfed and risked capsizing.

  From behind the Plexiglas door I watch the turbulent weather and high seas that are tossing Guppy around like a rubber duck. That’s exactly how I feel, too, I observe, and wedge myself into a bunk to try to read while the wind whistles through the rigging and the sea thunders by. I love the sound of whistling rigging and breaking waves; it takes me back to my childhood dreams of storms and high seas. As an eight-year-old I loved to sail my Mirror over the tidal estuary in stormy weather and rain; sometimes using only the jib when it was really rough. But right now, I wouldn’t really mind if the wind dropped a little.

  DAY 9: 10 December

  The wind hasn’t dropped much, but now that it’s on a broad reach I’m going well on the mizzen and storm jib. It’s not really comfortable and seawater continues to cascade over Guppy, but it’s a little less cloudy than yesterday and the sun is warming up a little. Great, I love the heat! Sitting at the cabin entrance under the sprayhood I see the second yacht on this crossing. It gives me a good feeling to know that I’m not the only one who’s knocking about out here. I’m a little sluggish today and not doing anything much. I look at Gup chasing through the water and that’s enough for me. In the meantime, it’s 13.30 Cape Verdean time, but that probably doesn’t apply to my present location.

  For some reason, the other yacht is going much faster than Gup, and this with less sail. It’s a much bigger yacht, so that figures, but it bothers me . . . Shall I add the genoa? Guppy’s speed is now dropping below 6.5 knots sometimes, and that’s not good enough. It could be better. With the genoa up, she’s going much faster, but not in danger of broaching. Great! Below deck, I write up my blog at the chart table and then send it through to Dad via the satellite phone. The wind seems to have dropped a bit, and Guppy is again going a little too slowly for my liking, so I decide to hoist the mainsail with a reef in it. The wind has dropped to about 25 knots on a broad reach. It should work, so I go on deck.

  Guppy teeters on top of a wave and only just avoids surfing. It gives me a great view over . . . well, endless water. The mega-yacht has disappeared from the horizon. It’s spectacular out here and Guppy is almost flying. The windpilot is doing a great job steering Guppy just as well as I could. I spend a while up on the foredeck until an enormous wave hits me and hauls me back to reality. My tummy is rumbling and I need to make something to eat. After having eaten my creation, I lie on the couch to digest the meal and read a good book. Burp! I may have eaten too well and too much. The sun sets again, making way for the night.

  DAY 10: 11 December

  I’ve managed to sleep a lot better, despite the radar alarm going off from time to time to give warning of a big wave or a squall nearby. The wind is still around 25 knots. I eat a cracker with some jam in the ray of sunshine that finds its way inside the cabin. Yum! I’ve managed to find a brilliant spot to put my plate so that it doesn’t fly off. I just set it down on my cardanic stove and that works. In future, I’ll sit on the kitchen counter and eat off the stove.

  After breakfast, I take the reef out of the mainsail. Guppy is now sailing with the mainsail, mizzen and half-furled genoa. It’s ridiculously hot today. I stand on the foredeck for a while and enjoy the wind blowing through my hair and the fizzy bow wave. It’s simply wonderful to think how everything has changed since my departure. I’ve been tested severely several times on this voyage. I’ve learnt so much and have changed my views about quite a lot of things in the world. Below deck, I continue to read Dove by Robin Lee Graham. It’s a biography, and there’s a lot that I can relate to. In 1965, the author is the first 16-year-old to sail around the world in his yacht Dove. On his voyage, he falls in love, marries and only gets back home five years later.

  Halfway through, I decide to do something different and work on getting the hatches covered with insect gauze. I haven’t had much trouble with insects so far, and certainly not at sea, but they almost ate me alive on Saint Martin the last time I was there and I want to get this done be
fore I arrive.

  After a meal of mashed potatoes and beans (the meat is finished, alas), I put on Metallica. I’m loving it and get totally hyped-up and happy. Before I realise it, I’m giggling. I tell myself that this is really silly, and then shut up when I realise I’m talking and listening to myself . . .

  DAY 11: 12 December

  I wake up very early when I hear an enormous bang and rising wind. I look outside to see that the mainsheet is hanging in the water, having torn off the trackway. I see that the shackle holding the sheet block has broken off. Damn! Now the boom is chafing against the shrouds and has already caused some damage. I haul the boom in to avoid any further damage, find a new shackle in my box of spare parts, and the problem is soon solved.

  It’s daybreak and I stay in the cockpit to enjoy the sunrise. Gup is sailing fast, but it’s comfortable. I now realise that what I experienced yesterday wasn’t a long squall but a full-blown storm. A passing cargo ship informed me that the wind velocity had reached between 40 and 45 knots and that makes it a storm. The wind is now about 30 knots and Guppy is doing well with reefed mainsail, mizzen and storm jib. A little too much sail, but we’re really going fast. It’s wonderful to see Guppy sailing like this, and I love it. Guppy and I can weather everything and every storm. Yes, we can!

  Timewise, I’m four hours behind the Netherlands. When I text Dad a ‘good morning’, the answer comes quickly: ‘thank you, but it’s already afternoon’. Hmm . . . This is going to take some getting used to.

  I can’t find flying fish on deck this morning. They probably were there but got washed off in the storm. I play some music and try to make some breakfast in the swinging cabin. It’s cornflakes this time as the bread is finished.