One Girl One Dream

by Dekker, Laura

  DAY 8: 3 October

  Beep, beep, beep. The radar wakes me up at 03.00 . . . There’s a light in the distance, and half an hour later another one and then another one. There are no navigation lights, and I’m beginning to wonder if they are actually boats because I’m not getting any response on the VHF . . . The wind springs up: this could be a squall. It’s a bit scary and I can’t figure out what those lights are. I avoid the mysterious lights all night while squall after squall breaks over us. After many hours of nervous irritation, it slowly gets lighter and the black clouds disappear. The night’s mystery is solved when I look at the last white light through my binoculars and see that it’s a fishing vessel. I think Guppy has been sailing through a whole fleet of them. I count eight spots on the radar and none of them seem to be moving. I wonder what they are doing 800 miles from the nearest coast? As if there aren’t any fish swimming close to shore!

  The sun shines brightly when I wake up from snatching some sleep. The wind has shifted and Guppy is finally right on course with a broad reach which gives us speed. She is running at 7 knots on a 260-degree course; a little higher or lower doesn’t really matter at this stage of the crossing.

  DAY 9: 4 October

  Flap, clunk, flap, clunk . . . Huh? I’m suddenly awake; Guppy lifts right up and prances on the turbulent waves. The wind has dropped entirely and has left Guppy with wildly flapping sails. The moon and stars disappear behind pitch-black clouds and there’s a squall close by that’s clearly visible on the radar. I’m almost certain that there’s some wind behind the next squall, but my patience continues to be tested. I can’t sleep due to Guppy’s staggering up-and-down motion and the anticipation of a squall. I sit at the chart table with one eye on the film Elf, and one on the radar waiting for the squall to hit us. The film is about someone who’s brought up by elves and then returns to civilisation. It’s all pretty vague, but a good laugh and that’s exactly what I need right now.

  The rising sun is colouring the sky orange again when the squall, carrying a huge amount of rain and a shifting wind direction, hits us. As usual it turns into a battle with sails and the course, after which my beloved constant wind returns and Guppy can continue on her way. Good, time to catch up on a few hours’ sleep as I’m dead tired.

  During my inspection round of the deck in the afternoon, I discover that the storm jib drum has lifted 2 centimetres. That shouldn’t be possible and would mean that something has broken or something is wrong with the bearings. It still furls up without a hitch, and I don’t know what’s wrong. Hmm, something to keep an eye on. Otherwise Guppy is bearing up well and moves on with dignity, while my life follows its normal course.

  DAY 10: 5 October

  I haven’t been reading much these past few days, but time flies past. I chat with other sailors on the SSB and am playing the flute a lot. My guitar remains in the cupboard because nothing that isn’t secured is safe. I’m looking at potential arrival places: Durban, Port Elizabeth or directly to Cape Town. Between Durban and Port Elizabeth a strong current flows in the opposite direction to the prevailing winds. The pilots warn sailors about the extremely high waves that make it impossible to make any headway with a yacht in these conditions . . . Hmm, I’ll see. Before I know it, my tummy reminds me that it’s evening again. I’m going to cook a nice meal for myself tonight: brown beans with mushrooms and string beans. It will make a change from spaghetti. The last two times I made spaghetti I didn’t get it quite right. The first time was five days ago when I mixed in some pesto. I’d forgotten that the jar of pesto had been open for a while and couldn’t remember for how long — BIG MISTAKE! It didn’t taste quite right. . . The second time I cooked it in salt water, but that should have been half saltwater and half freshwater as I usually do. I’d stupidly forgotten to add the freshwater and it was super salty — YUCK! I ate half, but couldn’t manage the rest and fed it to the fish. They probably had less of a problem with the saltiness . . .

  DAY 11: 6 October

  It seems as if the wind is waiting for me to fall asleep . . . Yes, she’s almost sleeping; in a little while . . . And then it drops away and Guppy starts to roll from gunnel to gunnel on waves that are coming from all directions, while the sails flap wildly. I’m wide awake and standing up on deck before I know it. After battling with the sails for hours, I can’t stand the sound of the flapping sails anymore. Poor Guppy shudders with every flap and it hurts me to hear it, knowing that something is going to break. There’s just too little wind tonight to be able to sail with these big waves.

  I therefore partially roll up the genoa so that it can’t slap into anything and set the mainsail in the centre. Sigh. Mr Yanmar will have to keep me company to prevent Guppy from breaching the waves, or we won’t be making any progress. Guppy is still rolling heavily, but the waves are not tossing her around like a ball that much now. It’s my third night with little sleep and I’m feeling a little under the weather, but I’m going to sleep now.

  I wake up later that afternoon because Guppy is calmer and is listing to starboard . . . Huh? Wait a minute, WIND! I shoot outside to set the sails. I’ve had a good bit of rest and the wind is really behaving itself, with Guppy sailing at 7 knots. I feel reborn!

  In the evening, I chat to Henk on the SSB about everything ahead of us. He’s sailing about 900 miles ahead of me and has also been plagued by high waves and little wind. I use the SailMail to access a GRIB file and it doesn’t really look favourable. There’s another area of calms ahead, but it looks like it may pass below me. Please, let that be so! I change my course a little more westwards, so that I don’t move too far south and can avoid the calms. In the evening, I watch the film Happy Gilmore, and then dive under the covers.

  DAY 12: 7 October

  I’d got my hopes up too soon . . . The wind is back to normal — that is, no wind, headwind, shifty wind and everything between 0 and 10 knots. Of the 12 days that I’ve been out at sea now, I’ve only been able to sail properly for about 24 hours and have only enjoyed one good night’s rest. Up until now, this is not likely to be the most pleasant crossing. Guppy is bobbing around and is rolling from side to side. The swell is not as bad as it was, but not ideal either. It’s dark and grey around me, and it’s not likely to get any lighter today. One shower follows the next; it drizzles, but there’s not enough rain to collect the water and I end up with four litres of brackish water because everything is still covered in salt. Damn it!

  In short, a good day to catch up with some schoolwork. I’ve almost completed havo 5 (Year 11), but am wondering about doing my exams in a country that has done its best to break me. They still haven’t given up and continue to bother my parents, who are constantly receiving threatening letters by registered post about all sorts of things. They continue to do everything they can to stop my voyage before I can complete it. The Dutch media also continue to publish nonsense without any verification. I have been anxious about the possibility of sabotage all along the voyage, so that they can say ‘I told you so!’ Just like my departure from Portugal, when the Dutch authorities tried to use their influence there to stop me. Fortunately, we had seen it coming and had thought up a plan B; the departure from Gibraltar without the media in attendance. Anyway, they would only have caught on when it was too late, as we hadn’t informed the media where I would be starting from. I keep thinking that they might try again when I reach South Africa. What could they do? All sorts of thoughts run through my head: sabotage one of the stays, poison my drinking water? Whatever, I have really had it with the Netherlands! In Australia I replaced the Dutch flag with the New Zealand flag, and I haven’t regretted it for a moment.

  In the afternoon I climb into my bunk with my laptop and a good film, with the cosy sound of rain falling on the deck. Guppy is rolling slowly from side to side and is hardly making any headway. It’s so dark during the day that I need to switch on the cabin light. I drift into a different world for a moment; away from the Dutch authorities, the lack of wind and the dark clouds
.

  In the middle of the night the breeze Guppy enjoyed for most of the night falls away. The ocean is almost smooth and she is rolling gently. Every now and then a sail flaps and there’s a breath of wind . . . After looking around in the dark for a moment, I close my eyes and slip back into my dream world.

  DAY 13: 8 October

  When I wake up, it’s light and the sun is shining. Yesterday’s dark clouds have disappeared and there are only a couple of white clouds above us. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves, because there are more squalls on the horizon waiting to strike. I’m really glad the sun is shining again, because the batteries are running low. My mood lifts immediately. There’s not much wind, though. I try opening a jar of apple sauce that has a rusty lid, but it doesn’t open. I eventually grab a screwdriver and end up breaking the glass, which means that I no longer dare to eat the apple sauce. Defeated, I open a tin of pears and have them for breakfast. To my delight there’s a little wind, and Guppy is leaving a trail of ripples behind her. I’m not entirely certain that the wind is here to stay, but surely there’ll be good winds sometime?

  I have some stowaways on board again. This time it’s ants! Not really a surprise, as there were a lot of them in Darwin. Fortunately, it’s a tiny species that doesn’t bite. Every now and then one of them runs across the kitchen counter. Anyway, their presence ensures that I keep the galley clean and do the dishes in good time. I’m not really keen on an entire ant colony. While I prefer them to cockroaches, I’d rather just sail solo.

  At night, the shifty wind and slapping sails drive me nuts. I’ve had it with adjusting the sails and changing course constantly. I really need a good night’s rest, so I furl up the genoa, set the mainsail in the centre and put little Mr Yanmar to work. In the middle of the night there’s a squall for an hour, and usually I’d use the wind to sail a bit. After some hesitation, I let it go and decide that while it won’t make much difference to motor for another hour, it will make a huge difference to the amount of sleep I get!

  DAY 14: 9 October

  The sun’s heat wakes me up, and Guppy is sailing over an almost flat sea at a speed of 3 knots. The warmth is lovely. There are hardly any showers on the horizon, and today could be a really nice day. There’s a little wind from the north. I switch the engine off and peace returns as Guppy sails on.

  My hair is beginning to irritate me; it’s always full of knots, hangs over my eyes and is very salty. I don’t have enough freshwater to wash it regularly and I really have to use water sparingly if I want to reach Durban. What about the rainwater? Well, it has drizzled and I’ve managed to collect half a bucket of brackish water over the past four days. The sails, the sunscreen; everything is covered in salt! Saltwater washes over Guppy with each squall, but I’m happy with everything around me. The bird that has perched on the mast all night with its bum lit up red and green by the top light, the calms, the squalls and the slow progress; it seems as if it were always this way — or will it change? I spend half the day gazing out over the sea and dreaming of South Africa, the Atlantic Ocean . . . and then? Brazil? Saint Martin? And on to the Panama Canal again? I’m really looking forward to leaving the Indian Ocean behind me. I’m eating too much as it’s a good way of passing time and I have enough food, but I hate the feeling of being constantly full. I resolve to eat less and pay more attention to my books.

  A big liner passes me. It’s amazing; I’ve seen a ship every day for the past four days on the endless ocean. And even here I still come across an old wooden fishing vessel from time to time. I was glad to leave Indonesia behind me, because I was following the movements of these boats closely every time I came across them. Now that I’m 800 miles from Indonesia, I come across another old wooden fishing boat. On the SSB I hear that there was a pirate attack near Madagascar so I’ll be glad not to encounter any more of these small, sinister boats.

  DAY 15: 10 October

  Finally, some wind, but it’s so dark and grey outside that it looks as though the clouds will envelop Guppy at any moment. There’s a 4-metre swell and I’ve been having squall after squall breaking over me for the past two weeks. The wind isn’t constant for more than an hour at a time, which entails adjusting the sails and the course regularly. I dive into a book so that I can forget everything around me, but every time I get up there are dark clouds, drizzle and little wind. During my crossing from the Galápagos to the Marquesas Islands, I’d covered 2600 miles in the same time it’s taken to cover only 1500 now. This ocean hasn’t done me any favours, and I’ll be glad to leave it behind me. The most irritating thing is that even though I’m surrounded by rain clouds and showers, I’m not managing to collect a drop of rain for a shower or to replenish my water tanks. Guppy is running at 3 knots and bobbing along like a useless rubber duck on the high swell. At the top of the waves, I have an infinite view of endless grey sea that changes into drizzle on the horizon. I have to accept it because I can’t change it anyway, and things are bound to get better.

  DAY 16: 11 October

  When day breaks, a few squalls pass by, causing the wind to come first from behind and then head-on, just to give me a hard time, before falling away altogether. This isn’t much fun with the high swell and the cross-seas . . . Guppy is rolling very heavily and the sails are flapping in all directions, but once the squalls have disappeared on the horizon I feel it — WIND! Wonderful wind. Guppy flies forward and is making real speed for the first time since Darwin. It’s going well and she’s jumping over the waves at a speed of 7 knots like a young foal, and looks as though she’s enjoying it as much as her skipper.

  A glance at the solar panels shows me that there is work to do. I can start cleaning them all over again as it seems to have become a regular shithouse for all my feathered friends. Not good, and I’m pissed off about all the lost current that I need so much. Seeing that I’ve hardly had any sun, Guppy’s batteries have not been charging optimally, which means that I can make only limited use of my radar and beloved SSB radio, which both need a lot of electricity. A pity because my SSB offers me something else to do other than staring over the grey sea and skies.

  Towards afternoon, my mood improves when the weather starts to clear gradually. I’m proud of Guppy as I watch her cut nicely through the sea. We have covered so many miles and experienced so much together. I think back to my first crossings, years ago in my little 7-metre Guppy. At the age of 10 I didn’t have a clue what lay ahead of me, but that never stopped me from venturing into the unknown. After the first plunge into the deep end, many more followed, but I never regretted my decisions. I’m glad Dad gave me the freedom to discover things for myself, but never before he was certain that I could handle the situations I would be confronted with. This voyage of mine has already taught me so much. When I left the Netherlands I didn’t have a clue what I wanted to do in the future, just like any other teenager, and now I have loads of plans. I want to go to New Zealand, finish my schooling there, and then do something in the sailing field. But most of all, I’ve come to know myself very well. I have consciously faced the fear of the unknown; confronted myself and conquered anxieties and loneliness. I’ve become stronger mentally and feel on top of the world. I know I will get to South Africa richer for the experience of having crossed 6000 miles of the Indian Ocean.

  DAY 17: 12 October

  No bird shit today, and no squalls either, but a strong wind and something to go for! It’s still cloudy, but the sun breaks through from time to time and that cheers me up. The wind gives me a broad reach and I’ve boomed out the genoa. The sheets are still getting chafed by the spinnaker pole and I invent a new solution. A sort of safety rope. I make a short loop in the eye of the genoa and fix the spinnaker boom to this. This line is sure to tear, too, but that’s not serious. It’s holding so far, but then I think of all my other attempts — the duct tape, Rescue Tape, the patches bound around . . . But theoretically this should work. Guppy is in her element and races through the waves.

  I’m too late to see
it coming . . . A massive wave breaks over the cockpit and soaks me to the bone. I’ve had my shower, but it leaves me even more salty. When I go below to change into some dry clothes, I feel Guppy balancing on the top of a wave and, before I know what’s happening, I’m flung through the cabin, along with everything else that’s loose. Everything in Guppyland is back to normal . . . Welcome back, wind!

  DAY 18: 13 October

  In the meantime, the wind has got a little too frisky. . . Braids of white foam are flying over the water and the seas are mounting. In contrast to the Pacific, the waves are steep and high with a swell that’s coming from a different direction to the wind. Guppy is being blown forward at a speed of 8 knots while massive waves wash over the deck. The companionway has to stay closed, and I see walls of water chasing past when I look outside. But Guppy is handling it well; I’m proud of her and know that she will continue to thunder on until the sea calms down again. All I have to do is keep watch. I’ve been at sea for 18 days now and this has been my longest crossing so far in terms of time; and I’m not even halfway yet.

  Sitting on the chart table with one foot on the cabin steps and the other firmly against the cabin wall, I switch on the SSB. Guppy is occasionally surfing off the waves at speeds exceeding 10 knots, and is rolling dangerously from side to side. I have to reduce sail, put a second reef in the mainsail and possibly set the storm jib before night falls, because otherwise it is simply too dangerous. I’m busy thinking about all this when I receive a call from Sogno d’Oro. We’ve been talking for a few minutes when Guppy starts to surf faster and faster off a wave.