One Girl One Dream

by Dekker, Laura

  ‘Oh, shit!’ is all I can say.

  A huge breaker crashes over Guppy from the side, taking poor Guppy down a mountain of white foam to land on her side at the bottom of the trough with a mighty bump. Looking through the Plexiglas door, I see the sea wash into the cockpit. Still holding the microphone in one hand with the other on a handgrip, I’m hanging horizontally to the companionway and am looking at the oncoming water in shock. Slowly, Guppy manages to right herself while I survey the chaos inside and the water that is slowly running out of the cockpit.

  ‘I, I, we — Guppy has just been knocked down,’ I stutter into the radio. ‘I’ll call you back in half an hour.’

  I switch off the SSB, click myself into the harness and wait for the right moment to venture on deck. In the meantime, the windpilot has got everything under control again. Almost everything that was in the cockpit has been swept away. The sprayhood has been totally flattened on one side, and I’m standing up to my knees in water in the cockpit . . . I take in the remaining bit of the genoa that’s still attached to the spinnaker boom. With water flying over me, and cursing myself, I insert the second reef in the mainsail; something I should have done hours ago. Several lines are trailing in the water behind Guppy, and I bring them back on board. Half an hour later, everything looks to be under control again. There doesn’t seem to be much damage to the mast or equipment. Cold and soaked to the bone, I get back to Henk and explain what’s just happened. Guppy is more stable now that she is going slower, and I’m more comfortable about facing the night. We chat about life on board. Things that are so easy to do at home are a real challenge on board. Just going to the toilet is a major task, and you have to wedge yourself into a certain position just in case an unexpected waves launches you through the boat . . . But what must be done must be done; including eating liquid food that flies through the cabin the moment you let go of it, and losing stuff you left on deck. Reefing on time, but not too early, in case Guppy becomes a toy in the waves — it’s all part of it.

  It feels as though Guppy has been on a rollercoaster all night. I hear the breakers gathering height in the dark, but only see them when they crash over Guppy with force. The cockpit is underwater regularly. All the hatches have to stay shut tightly, which makes it very stuffy inside. I’m impressed by the waves here; not only are they really huge, but they are particularly steep. Each big breaker could knock Guppy down again, but she’s handling it well and is running at 7 knots on a small piece of sail.

  DAY 19: 14 October

  It’s already light when the wind starts to drop a little. By noon it’s just 25 knots and the waves are becoming longer. The breakers have disappeared. I shake out a reef and unfurl a good bit of the genoa. The situation is improving steadily and I suddenly feel exhausted. I’ve been on standby all night watching the turbulent conditions from behind the Plexiglas door. Before turning in, I check Guppy’s position and see that we’ve made good progress in the past few days.

  DAY 20: 15 October

  The wind has totally died and we start the umpteenth grey, wet day. I can’t even remember the last time I saw the sun. Everything is timeless here. If I didn’t make a diary entry every day, I would lose my sense of time altogether. What does it matter if you’re at sea for 20 or 25 days? Even though there’s a big difference between one and five days. I’m still very tired, miss the sun and sometimes feel like running. At the same time, I’m intensely happy here on Guppy on the waves that have calmed down now. There are times when I’d like to be on land, but there are always more moments on land when I wish I was at sea. The sea continues to draw me onwards, and so does my curiosity to experience what lies beyond the horizon.

  DAY 21: 16 October

  I’m woken up by the sun for a change. It warms me and Guppy all morning and things get a chance to dry, but now slowly but surely the sun disappears once again and so does the wind that has been blowing Guppy along nicely for the past few days. The speed drops to below 3 knots, leaving Guppy to float aimlessly. It drizzles from time to time. The sea is an endless dale of grey waves over which Guppy glides up and down. But, as always, the wind will return at some stage. It’s all or nothing, and it’s actually quite pleasant to be able to walk over the deck without a wave washing over me, and to be able to sit in a dry cockpit.

  DAY 22: 17 October

  Drizzle and more drizzle. There’s still little wind and the grey horizon ends 500 metres further off. Eating has become an important part of my day; something to look forward to. I try to make a special meal out of the large stock of long-life products. This will require a little imagination . . . I watch a film from time to time and read a lot. Now and then it rains a little harder, which means I’ve managed to collect 10 litres of lovely rainwater. I’m happy, even though there’s little wind. Guppy has just passed the halfway mark and we have another 3000 miles to go before we reach South Africa. When I open one of my laptops to download my email via SailMail, I notice that it hasn’t survived the wave crash we had earlier when it flew through the cabin. The screen has a huge crack in it! Fortunately, I have other laptops on board and have installed the SailMail programme on one of them as well.

  How is it possible to be at sea for three weeks without having two consecutive days of good wind? Guppy floats into the night surrounded by spooky whitish-grey veils of rain. Everything is wet and damp on board. But Guppy is still moving forward, and the sails aren’t slapping. It may be miserable weather outdoors, but it’s really cosy inside.

  Triggered by an approaching rain front, the radar alarm goes off in the middle of the night. Wham! A few minutes later, there’s suddenly 35 knots of wind and Guppy is up to her portholes in water and begging me to reef the sails. All the stars have disappeared behind a big black cloud and the rain pelts down. I furl in the genoa halfway in the streaming rain, reef the mainsail and sail with a broad reach until it gets a little calmer. It’s all over an hour later, and I now have a 20-knot wind. I’ve lost my bucket of lovely fresh rainwater in the squall. A pity, because it was still half-full and good for a nice freshwater shower. Oh well, shit happens . . . I should have tied the bucket down or put it away!

  DAY 23: 18 October

  At first light, Guppy is still sailing with a good broad reach and, although there are some strange cross-waves, she’s running well at more than 7 knots. While I’m making breakfast in the galley, a big wave comes from nowhere and almost throws Guppy on her side again. Its twin follows and washes over the entire boat. The plastic flap in front of the entrance hasn’t been able to keep the wave out, of course, and a good deal of water washes inside and over me. Dripping water, I try to find what’s left of my breakfast . . . In the cockpit, the water washes over the seats while the windpilot brings Guppy back on course to continue undeterred. While I’m mopping up the water that drips from the steps, I notice that they have worn and decide that I’ll sand them down and varnish them in the coming days. The wood of the cabin steps has been wet for days, and this saltwater doesn’t do them any good. But there isn’t much I can do about it at the moment. I’ve had countless grey days. I read an entire book, forget to eat, and log in my position. Before I know it, the day has passed.

  DAY 24: 19 October

  A sunny day at last! That’s good for the batteries and for me. The wind and waves also offer good sailing conditions. Guppy and I enjoy it while it lasts, and are making good progress. I’ve managed to cover a good many miles on this journey so far, and I enjoy looking back at all the lovely places that Guppy and I have visited. I’m feeling great and decide to bake some bread. A little later, the entire cabin is full of the delicious aroma of fresh bread. Yum, this is a real treat at sea! I can open the companionway now that the rain has stopped and the waves seem to have calmed down. It’s great to be able to let everything dry and to feel the warmth of the sun.

  DAY 25: 20 October

  The sun is shining on my face when I wake up. I move immediately on deck to discover that the wind is still good, and finally
everything on deck gets the chance to dry. I’m glad that the solar panels are doing their best to charge the batteries. I never sail without the radar, mast light and Echomax, so I really need to charge the batteries well after all the rainy days we’ve had. This is also good for my morale; the sun feels so wonderful! Funny that I should say this now, because I was cursing the sun while I was on the Equator . . . All in all, I’ve made good progress over the past few days and everything is taking its course on board, but sometimes things do break and I repair them; such as a broken fastening, a worn line or the water pump. I’ve also repaired the jib drum with some improvising, and hope it holds. And so the days pass.

  DAY 26: 21 October

  The wind is easing, but Guppy is still making steady progress. After a good start this morning, the sun disappears, alas. There’s just a watery sun now and it’s fairly cold, but Guppy sails on at a good 3.5 knots, so I can’t complain. I’m going to use this calm day to check everything and carry out the necessary maintenance. I grease the rudder bearings, cables and discs again. While I do this regularly, I have neglected doing so over the past few days because it wasn’t possible with the waves washing over a staggering Guppy. My extra lines for the genoa aren’t really working as well as I’d hoped; they are wearing faster than I’d anticipated, which is why I’ve come up with something new. I’ve attached some stainless-steel rings in the hope that this will work. It’s hard work bending the sprayhood frame back into shape, and it takes me a few hours before I can look at my work with satisfaction and get an approving wink from Guppy. Eventually, it’s back in place and looking pretty good. I then hear boink and a dragging sound behind me on deck. The boom vang has dropped off because of a broken locking pin. This is why the thick pivot pin is also missing. I soon find a spare one and try to repair the troublesome thing. But there’s too much tension on it, which means that I need to get the mainsail down in order to get the pin in. I replace the pivot pin and then the split pin, and now Guppy can sail under full sail again. Let’s hope the wind doesn’t drop entirely so that Guppy can continue to make progress.

  DAY 27: 22 October

  During the night the wind changes its mind, and towards morning it’s calm again and I’ve dropped the mainsail to stitch up a hole and do some other mending. I have the feeling that I’ll be at sea forever, but it feels good. A feeling of peace has come over me. We are just floating around, but that’s just fine.

  There’s a splendid sunset with the sky looking as though it’s had big blobs of white, orange and blue thrown at it. Some are thick and bubbly, and others soft and fluid, and all of it is reflected in the sea which doesn’t have a ripple. It’s enchanting to look at. Lying in the cockpit, I gaze at the sky until it turns black with pin pricks of light that start to glitter overhead. Guppy’s speed is about 1.5 knots; not something to write home about, but I don’t really mind.

  DAY 28: 23 October

  I’m woken in the middle of the night by the sound of slapping sails and busy myself trying to get as much headway as possible out of the wind, which is constantly changing. But when there is no wind, there is no headway. There’s nothing I can do about it, however much I try trimming the sails, and that’s really frustrating. A few hours later, I’m treated to a massive downpour. I’m sitting inside and don’t feel like going out into the dark, cold night to enjoy the freshwater.

  I feel good and am thinking about everything. There are moments when I miss my family and friends and feel like giving them a hug; or going out for an evening with people I know instead of having to make new friends all the time, whom I then have to leave behind just as I’m getting to know them. But that’s what I’ve chosen, and I’ve really grown since my departure in that respect. (And I’m not talking about my height. At 1.63 metres, I’m not really tall.) I’ve acquired a better view of the world and a better idea of what I want to do with my life. I have so many plans that I sometimes worry about how I’m going to pack them all into one lifetime. But the most important plan I have at the moment is to return to my country of birth, New Zealand. I like Australia, what I’ve seen of it so far, and I’d certainly like to return there. People’s attitudes there are very different compared with the Netherlands. Australians and New Zealanders have a ‘can do’ mentality, making the impossible possible and going for your dreams. In the Netherlands, people are put into little boxes and those who say ‘can do’ are given a hard time. I know one thing for sure, and that’s that I don’t fit into one of those little Dutch boxes! I want to fulfil my dreams; something that’s normal in New Zealand and Australia.

  In the morning there’s hardly a cloud in the sky and the sun casts a magic glow over the water. I take a nice freshwater shower from the bucket that has filled with rainwater overnight, and realise that it’s not only the air but the water, too, that’s a lot colder here. Whoa, this is a really cold shower! Brr . . . But the sun makes up for it all, and I’m enjoying the space around me. I play music all day long, and check the weather reports on the SSB from time to time. There’s not much promise of improvement, alas, but at least Guppy is making some headway. Towards nightfall, there’s enough wind to keep her on course and make some progress. The stars are awesome tonight; more radiant than they have been for some time. Mostly it’s been too overcast to see much of the unknown world above. Now that Guppy is sailing without any assistance from me, I can sleep through the night without having to battle with the sails every 15 minutes.

  DAY 29: 24 October

  I’m now ‘channel controller’ of the small radio net we have on the SSB. There are just four boats I still have contact with; Dakota is in Mauritius and, besides Artic, another solo sailor, the rest are behind me.

  It’s more overcast today, but this is compensated for by some wind. I’m seeing speeds of 4 and 5 knots again. Guppy maintains her course throughout the night, which is hard to believe. I keep waking up, thinking that the wind has dropped and that Guppy is sailing in the wrong direction because the wind has swung 180 degrees. Every time I can hardly believe that she’s still sailing well and on exactly the right course. It feels like the wind is playing a joke on me. Because I’ve been so restless in my sleep, I spend more time daydreaming and lying in the cockpit today; something to enjoy as long as there are no waves coming over.

  DAY 30: 25 October

  It’s midnight when I’m woken abruptly by squalls with strong gusts, and rain, rain and more rain. Towards morning the wind is coming from all directions; strong, then weak and then from the opposite direction, and so I have my hands full with the sails while it continues to pour. I’ve put all the buckets out to catch water for a nice shower later. In between the squalls, I’m playing Solitaire inside. When the cards start flying through the cabin, I know it’s time to take a look outside . . .

  Guppy is not making much headway, and hasn’t covered the mileage I’d actually hoped for. I’ve lowered my expectations and am hoping for an average of 4 knots — which I managed yesterday. That would mean that Guppy has another 20 days before I see the South African coast. But it would seem that I have little to say about these things since the weather and the wind are in control.

  It appears that I’ve stocked up with more than enough food — something that is so difficult to gauge when I’m standing in the supermarket. Do I have enough of this and that? Fortunately, I’ve polished off all the sweets and biscuits. I consciously don’t take too many of these snacks with me, as they are always the first to be eaten. I know myself too well. Two weeks ago, I didn’t feel like cooking anything and lived on two-minute noodles and biscuits. Now I often eat cornflakes for breakfast, and today I do so with freshly collected rainwater and milk powder. In the evening there’s spaghetti, beans or some other tinned food on the menu. In between, I eat some tinned cocktail sausages or some soup, and that does me fine.

  I can gaze at the sea for hours, or just think about all the countries I’ve been to and the people I’ve met, and I’m never bored. I rarely think back to the period with all t
he court cases just before my departure. I’ve finished the ‘The Netherlands’ chapter and would rather never think about it again. I’m feeling good at the moment, and have at last been able to distance myself, bit by bit, from the awful lead-up to this journey. I no longer have panic attacks when I’m confronted by the media, and I even manage to answer their questions in a normal manner. I can even laugh about all the guest-book messages and other reactions on the internet, even if they are negative. A lot of people support me and that’s nice to know. I no longer have the feeling that it’s me against the world and that I need to prove something. After all, I’m doing this for myself. It gives me a real kick to think that people enjoy following me on my voyage via my blog; especially when I notice that other people have been encouraged to pursue their own dreams now that they see how a teenager from a simple family is managing to do so. At least that’s something I’ve achieved!

  DAY 31: 26 October

  I’ve had some problems downloading my emails and haven’t been able to receive or send mail for two days. I hope this improves when I get closer to South Africa. Guppy is sailing close-hauled and I’m unable to maintain the right course any longer, which means that we are sailing too far south, but at least there’s some wind. Anyway, today has been the least cloudy day up until now, with just a few small greyish clouds and a burning sun. My batteries have been fully charged again and I’m using the extra power to charge everything that can be charged. Long live the sun!