One Girl One Dream

by Dekker, Laura

  DAY 32: 27 October

  At last I’m able to access my emails and I’m pleasantly surprised by an email from my mother, who writes that she misses me and would have loved to have come to South Africa. Kim is fine and doing well at her high school. Otherwise, life in the distant town of Harlingen, in the north of the Netherlands, doesn’t seem that exciting. Which isn’t the case on Guppy, who is ploughing through the waves in a 25-knot headwind with waves that are building up, and an approaching new storm. I’m not feeling that well for most of the morning, but I’m a little better after a few hours and am getting used to the pitching and stamping of the boat. Guppy is sailing with a reefed mainsail and storm jib, and is 20 degrees off her ideal course. Now that the waves are coming at an angle from ahead, I’m able to leave the companionway open. Suddenly I feel the boat hover, and then there’s an enormous thud as a massive wave rolls over Guppy. The water rushes in between the sprayhood and the conduits near the entrance. Guppy doesn’t seem to notice, shakes off all the water and continues on her way. It might be sensible to close the hatch at this stage if I don’t want to have a saltwater shower inside.

  DAY 33: 28 October

  I’m sitting on the chart table and have wedged myself in with one foot against the steps and the other against the side of the cabin so that I have my hands free to write an email to the home front while Guppy jumps up and down, hardly making any headway. The rollercoaster is in full swing, but fortunately we haven’t done any somersaults yet. I’m amazed at how good I feel, but I can’t see the sense in being flung around like a rubber duck in a gigantic washing machine and getting wet and salty while sailing in the wrong direction at a speed of 3.5 knots. At least the sun is shining! Maybe I’m losing it a little, because I’m feeling great — even laughing when a huge wave washes over me as I’m taking down the thrice-reefed mainsail. The wind gauge hasn’t dropped below 40 knots since last night, and Gup is now sailing only with the storm jib. Sailing this close to the wind in 8-metre-high, phosphorescent waves with the sound of whistling rigging is truly awesome . . . This is when you realise just how powerful nature can be. And Guppy just thunders on. This is so incredibly cool! Sometimes Guppy climbs to the top of a wave, only to make a metres-deep, stomach-wrenching plunge before picking herself up again and bravely climbing the next wave. I’m sure the pleasure would soon fade if this were to go on for days, but so far, so good. Besides the saltwater from the toilet bowl that washed over my clothes cupboard on the other side of the boat, a broken windvane line, and a short time later a broken shackle, it’s all going well.

  DAY 34: 29 October

  The wind picks up even more during the night when I go on deck to look for the light of the first ship I’ve seen on the radar in two weeks. However hard I look, I can’t sight the ship. I only have a couple of seconds to look for the ship every time Gup balances on the crest of a wave, before facing a wall of water in the next trough. The spray blowing over takes away all my visibility. On the radar, I see that the ship passes Guppy neatly, and I stay on deck for a while to enjoy the flying waves, the stars and the sliver of moon while the wind is whistling in the rigging. The sea is growling and bellowing, but it’s fantastic. I’ve got Guppy and I know that she can do it. The deck is constantly awash with water, but I’m enjoying the moment and know that I will cherish this for ever when we come through fine. At the same time I realise how powerful Nature is and what a teeny, tiny dot Guppy actually is in this immense ocean. But she continues to take on the sea and wind, diving into a wave, shaking the water off as if nothing’s the matter. And, yes, there’s little I can change about the situation, so I may as well see the fun in it and wait until things improve. You can love the sea or hate her; but you can never trust her. And that’s probably exactly what makes it all so interesting.

  Guppy is still sailing close to the wind, but her course is improving slowly. I seem to have got used to the violence and the overwhelming noise, but sleeping is going to be tricky tonight. I’m learning how to avoid getting bruised and, besides an amazing bump on my head, I only have a few big bruises on my legs, so it’s not that bad.

  DAY 35: 30 October

  The weather improves towards morning and the wind drops to about 30 knots, which feels like a light breeze by contrast. Guppy is sailing on a beam reach with a double-reefed mainsail and storm jib while the wind is getting more and more favourable. She is pounding a little less and beginning to pick up to a good speed. For the first time in three weeks I see a cargo ship; and that’s not only on the radar. It’s far off and travelling in the opposite direction, but it’s a sign of life in this vast, empty ocean. A little later, I see a dolphin jumping high above the waves. So lovely! I keep looking to see if there are more coming, but the stunt is sadly not repeated. This is the first marine creature I’ve seen since Darwin, and it makes my day. Guppy has another 1500 miles to go and, if the weather charts are anything to go by, it’s not exactly going to be a holiday. Probably I’m going to have to wait a while for that first cold Coke . . .

  DAY 36: 31 October

  During the night, the wind drops even more and I’m worried that it might disappear altogether, which won’t be much fun in this heavy swell, but there’s wind two hours later and I manage to get some more sleep. Mother Nature seems to want to make up for the storm front and all the violence that she’s thrown at Guppy and me, and rewards us with wonderful sailing weather. The waves have subsided and there’s a 20-knot wind and a very long swell. Guppy is cutting through the waves with a beam wind at a good 6 knots; a speed that I’m more used to from her. I’m enjoying the sun in the cockpit and spot another ship. There’s more shipping traffic now. When I step inside the cabin I’m confronted by the enormous chaos the storm has wreaked and am keen to establish some order. It’s high time, too, as the rough weather has made everything salty and dirty, with wet clothing and things scattered throughout the cabin. Now that the boat is stable enough for the dishwater to stay in the basin, I spend hours scrubbing Guppy and making her liveable again. The ants seem to appreciate my efforts, too. I hadn’t seen them for days, but they are now coming out of all the nooks and crannies. They don’t have long to live when I see them, but their numbers don’t seem to diminish. I find them in the strangest places, and they even run over my keyboard and my charts. But I don’t really mind them, and they are a whole lot better than cockroaches!

  At 23.00, I see the light of a ship in the distance. The Echomax peeps almost constantly, which means that there are more ships within the 30-mile zone. Once the ship has passed, I set the radar on a 6- and 4-mile range and go back to sleep.

  DAY 37: 1 November

  When I wake up in the morning, I hear a fizzing sound along Guppy’s hull, which is how she tells me that she is going nice and fast. From my bed, I see that the sun is rising from the right spot, telling me that we’re not only going fast, but in the right direction too! There’s a beam wind, which every now and then shifts to become more on the wind, and it feels great. I’m able to stick to my course and that makes me happy. Guppy is going like the clappers for the first time in a long time and we manage to sail more than 140 miles in 24 hours, but the wind continues to shift and change in strength, which keeps me busy. I’m asking myself if I should put a reef in the sail, but as soon as I do this the wind drops again. Hmm . . . Guppy begins to roll because I don’t have enough sail up in this high swell and I need to remove the reef. This carries on all day, and it’s exhausting keeping Guppy constantly on course this way; with not too much, but especially not too little, sail up. Nothing has changed by evening. Every time I get into my bunk, the wind drops or changes direction. Hard as I try, I don’t get more than about three hours sleep in total. I hope it’s better tomorrow so I can catch up on the lost hours. But we’re making progress and approaching South Africa fast now. Just 1250 miles to go!

  DAY 38: 2 November

  The predominant northerly wind disappears during the night and is replaced with rain and shifting winds,
which means even more work. I have to adjust the course and trim the sails constantly, but my efforts at least keep Guppy moving and prevent the sails from flapping. There’s a pelting burst of rain which flattens even the waves, and I take a lovely, but cold, freshwater shower while I’m filling pans and buckets with heavenly water. It ends in drizzle, which I’ve had so much of on this ocean. The rest of the day is dark, rainy and very overcast. I even have to switch on the light when I want to read inside in the middle of the day. I’m feeling tired and try to catch up on as much sleep as possible in between the many sail changes and course adjustments. During one of my catnaps, I’m woken up by the course alarm after only 15 minutes when the windvane is unable to maintain its course. When I look at the log, I see that Guppy is going at half a knot; I hear the flapping sails and feel how she is rolling. Hmm, it looks like I’m going to have to exercise a lot more patience . . .

  I battle with the sails all night while I’d rather be sleeping, but the wind has its own ideas about that and keeps on shifting. At times it drops away only to come back later, throwing in some thunder and heavy showers. Halfway through the night, I can hardly keep my eyes open and decide to take down the sails to prevent them getting damaged when the wind shifts or dies. I start Mr Yanmar, switch on the autopilot and hope to get a few hours’ sleep.

  DAY 39: 3 November

  When I wake up, it’s lighter and the wind seems to be more constant, but it’s coming from ahead. I set the sails quickly, even though it means sailing 40 degrees off my planned course. But at least Guppy is moving and the wind is fairly steady, so that I manage to sleep for a few hours. I wake up in the afternoon feeling totally fit. The clouds have disappeared and Guppy sails on happily, while the sun actually shines!

  DAY 40: 4 November

  I hear doink, boink, doink when I open my eyes; no wind, sigh. I’m up early and do my inspection round. I try to use the bilge pump to get rid of some water and discover that it doesn’t work. After struggling with the pump for a while, I get it working again. I also top up the oil-guzzling Yanmar. When I go to my cupboard to look for some clean clothes, I notice that many more of my clothes are wet and salty. The ones that were wet from the salty toilet water had been laid out to dry . . . But the sea seems to have found yet another way to come in during the last storm. I use the sunny, calm day to dry everything, and this keeps me usefully employed while Guppy floats along very slowly. My cheerful mood is interrupted when I find a packet of spaghetti that is full of bugs! Alarmed, I immediately dig into the rest of my food supplies. All the other packets that I bought in Darwin are infested with bugs, which means that almost my entire supply of spaghetti is spoilt. After a futile attempt to filter out the good spaghetti, I throw everything overboard. This is a total spaghetti disaster! The supplies that should have lasted for weeks, have been reduced to a few packets . . . I still have enough rice and tinned food on board, so there’s no shortage of food, but I’m rather fond of my spaghetti meals and will now have to make do with rice . . . I recall the last time I cooked rice — a total disaster which put me off eating rice for some time. I do, however, manage to get it right this time and it’s more than edible, so my culinary skills must be improving.

  DAY 41: 5 November

  ARGH, the wind really doesn’t know what it wants, and there only seems to be a choice of either a lot of wind or no wind at all. Towards evening, there’s finally a lovely breeze that freshens quickly. The wind is soon up to 30 knots, on a broad reach which has Guppy accelerating like a galloping horse at 8 knots throughout the night. In the morning, the wind drops more and more and comes from ahead, until Guppy is sailing close-hauled at 25 degrees off her ideal course. Looking at the weather charts, I expect the wind to fall away altogether, but we’ve managed to cover quite a distance overnight and only have another 800 miles to reach South Africa. Guppy will make landfall in just over a week. That will take some getting used to after a month and a half of only waves, horizon and clouds. Something else I need to get used to is the number of ships that are increasingly appearing around me; mainly cargo ships, but also some fishing boats. While I’m enjoying my breakfast in the cockpit, I’m gazing at the heads of foam on the waves when I suddenly see a tall white one . . . After a good look at it through my binoculars, it appears to be a sail. When Guppy gets closer, I discover a yacht below the sail — the first one since leaving Darwin! I jump for joy on the cabin roof and then dive below to call them on the VHF. No response. The hours pass and the boat gets closer and closer until I hear ‘Crackle . . . crackle . . . sailing vessel, crackle . . .’ from the VHF.

  They have just discovered me! I have a good chat with the Irish couple on board their 12-metre sloop, who think they are just as fast as Guppy. It makes me happy to think that there will be a boat in the vicinity to talk to for a while, but Guppy soon appears to be much, much faster, and by evening the Irish boat is 20 miles behind me and outside the range of the VHF . . . Well, they shouldn’t have told Guppy that their 12-metre yacht was just as fast as her. :)

  I’ve found some more packets of spaghetti that have only a few bugs in them, and manage to fish the bugs out of the pasta once it’s cooked. There’s a beam wind of about 20 knots and we’re coursing ahead. There’s a high swell and the waves Guppy is cleaving through leave a bright green trail of light in the dark night. Lying on my back in the cockpit, I lose myself while gazing at the moon, the stars and the unbelievable power and beauty of the sea. There have, of course, been enough days when I’ve had to shelter indoors and wouldn’t have dreamt of going on deck just for fun. And when I did have to go on deck, I cursed every sideways slip and every wave that washed over the deck.

  I go below to download my emails via the SSB, and see that there’s one from my little sister, and this, together with the good wind, makes my day. It always cheers me up to receive news from the home front.

  Hey Laura.

  I’ve also emailed Dad and have a reply from him, but I still need to read it.

  I understand why you don’t want to return to the Netherlands . . .

  I’m glad that you’re enjoying yourself so much, and it doesn’t really matter where, but I would like to see you again very soon :) <3 Have you seen any more dolphins? Or sharks :)

  Check my Hyves when you have access to the internet :)

  I’ll bring a giant pack of spaghetti and a calm sea with me when I come over.

  Are you still sleeping in that corner under the cockpit? Or have you moved?

  I’ve moved to the first floor. I live there now :) and the attic is now the guest room.

  Well, happy sailing and cursing the waves.

  No one hears you at sea and you can really shout, a good way to chill. If I try anything like that on the street here, they’d stop me and put me in a nuthouse :) xxx your little sister, i miss you, i love you <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

  DAY 42: 6 November

  My forecast that the wind would drop has, alas, come true. At about midnight the wind disappears completely and Guppy is rolling madly on the subsiding swell. Sleeping is practically impossible, and towards morning the blue sky suddenly turns pitch black and we have a mega-squall bursting over us with hard rain and much wind. Fortunately, most of it passes behind Guppy and, after doing a 360-degree swing, the wind is now coming from the south-south-west, which means I have to sail close to the wind but this time with the sails to starboard. The squall has really got Guppy spiced up. . . When we heeled, a pot of pepper lost its lid and it flew through the entire boat. Achoo!

  DAY 43: 7 November

  At last, a night with some good sleep! There’s a lovely southerly wind that’s helping Guppy along at 6.5 knots. The wind has dropped a little and we’re going well. What I like most is that it’s constant, so that I don’t have to go on deck all the time to adjust the course or the sails. There are many cargo ships about in the morning; three are in sight, of which one is on a collision course. I call them up and ask if they have seen me: ‘Yes, no problem. We will go a
round you.’

  Ten minutes later the ship is still coming straight for me and so close that I can read its name through my binoculars. This really is too close! They call me, asserting that I am too close and that I need to alter course. Well, yes, I’d come to that conclusion myself. Sailing at a speed of 6 knots, Guppy is not able to make way for the fast-coming, terrifying impact, so I answer: ‘How about you altering course?’

  ‘What? Us?!’ Followed by a brief silence, and then: ‘Oh, okay. Yes, we will alter course.’

  The huge ship sweeps past me at a distance of half a mile and disappears on the horizon within 15 minutes. A little later I come across a large steel buoy; the second one in three days. What are they doing here? It has a lot of rope, nets and other stuff attached to it. Guppy has been lucky enough to avoid them so far.

  DAY 44: 8 November

  On 8 November, I get this email via the SailMail. An article from the media:

  Solo sailor, Lucas Schröder, has withdrawn from the Conny van Rietschoten Trophy nominations ‘because of Laura Dekker’