One Girl One Dream

by Dekker, Laura

  Halfway through my voyage, I’d decided not to return to the Netherlands because of the umpteenth interference by the authorities. Everything that I’ve learnt over the past year and a half; what worked out, what went wrong and the problems I encountered, I shared with the rest of the world. After the lies that were spread, the news about me became increasingly more positive, and I rapidly needed to learn how to deal with the media. Sailing at sea and adapting to this lifestyle was a lot easier than standing in the spotlight. It’s something I still don’t feel happy about and dread having to do each time; sharing my life with the rest of the world that sees me as an example. To have become famous without having wanted to, and to have to accept this from one day to the next, was a very difficult phase that I was forced to go through. It had been a calculated tactic by the authorities after they discovered that I really hated being the focus of any attention. This is something that a lot of people don’t know. While everyone was concerned about the storms I encountered, I actually enjoyed them because it meant I had some peace and was at one with nature. I couldn’t handle the media and broke down every time they spread new lies about me. From an early age I learnt, by trial and error, not to be afraid of the unknown. I succeeded in filling a gap in my heart that I didn’t know I had, and can cherish these life experiences for the rest of my life. The fact that I’m the youngest person to have ever sailed around the world . . . well, that doesn’t really matter to me. I just wanted to do it and now know that it was the right thing to do. Half the world has followed my progress and I’d like to urge everyone to fulfil their dreams and not let their dreams remain just dreams. If you want something really badly, you can always make it happen. I come from a family that never had much money; I used to wear second-hand clothing and went to school on a really old bike, but I’ve fought to fulfil my dream and managed to persuade sponsors to help out with getting a boat and enough stuff to achieve my dream. So, give it your all, work day and night, and go for it! When I set out, I didn’t know whether I could sail around the world; whether I would miss my parents; whether I could handle the boat and manage to get through the storms; but I have always stepped into the unknown and have never, even in times of hardship, regretted it for a second.

  DAY 26: 6 January

  My feathered visitors are singing away again on my solar panels, just as they’ve been doing for the past two nights. I’ve discovered that they are put off when you point a camera at them to photograph or film them. They get confused and shut up for a while . . . A very welcome change! They’re slightly more considerate now, too, because they no longer shit on the solar panels but on the aft deck. A better spot, as at least my mini power station can do its work.

  In the morning, I see a cargo ship on the horizon for the first time in ages. I’ve been expecting this for a while, as I’m only 350 miles off the coast of Brazil. It’s still early but already very warm, and it promises to be a hot day. The Equator is getting closer and, despite being in the doldrums, Gup is still sailing along at 5 knots. Some dolphins come to say hello and dive under Guppy to shoot up on the other side, doing a lovely somersault before disappearing as quickly as they arrived. A pity, as I haven’t had the company of dolphins for a long time and would have liked to enjoy their stunts for a little longer.

  DAY 27: 7 January

  At daybreak it’s very cloudy for a change, but after a few drops of rain the clouds disappear and it gets even hotter than the days before. The black birds have spent the whole night at their post, but I think they’re still feeling insulted by the camera flash, because they don’t chirp a note. Something I really don’t mind! At about midday, Guppy and I cross the Equator and leave the Southern Hemisphere. It’s so terribly hot that I’m sure I could fry an egg on the deck, but the eggs are finished so I won’t be able to give it a try . . . I don’t offer Neptune a pancake this time, but make a fine speech to thank him for protecting Guppy and me on my long voyage. I spend the day throwing buckets of water over myself to ensure that I’m not cooked alive . . . There’s still a 10- to 15-knot wind coming from a south-south-easterly direction, and Guppy waddles on steadily with a boomed-out genoa and mainsail.

  It gets cloudier at night and the moon and stars disappear to leave me in the dark. It’s so dark that I can no longer see the front of the boat.

  DAY 28: 8 January

  There’s a little light towards morning, but it remains very cloudy. Guppy weathers one squall after the next, and sails through enormous downpours. The first few times this happens it’s really refreshing, but the squalls are getting heavier and heavier. The weather changes from short, heavy showers to continuous rain; from sudden calms to winds of 35 knots. Then, wind from all directions, which sweeps up confused seas that throw Guppy from side to side. I’m asking myself if there’s any purpose in adjusting the sails constantly and whether the wind will be back soon. It seems I won’t be escaping the doldrums entirely after all, although Gup has been making good progress in general, thanks to my efforts.

  DAY 29: 9 January

  A calm night with no wind and some showers is followed by a cloudy day with more showers. It hasn’t been dry since this afternoon, and I’ve filled all the buckets, bottles and the water tank. It’s raining really hard, which means that I have to keep the cabin closed if I want to avoid having a swimming pool inside, but this makes it really hot in there. The wind is changing direction constantly, which means that I’m doing battle with the sails all day long while being showered with rain . . . In the meantime, I’ve had wind from all directions again, with speeds from 0 to 30 knots. There are even gusts of 40 knots from time to time, which blow Guppy every which way. I’m already missing the South Atlantic, and hope to be out of the doldrums soon. Towards evening I’m cheered up by a big pod of dolphins that appears before the bow during one of the many heavy squalls with much wind and rain. Guppy runs on through the waves at 7 knots, with the dolphins jumping out of the water as the rain drums down. They give me an amazing performance that lasts several hours. Of all my encounters with dolphins, this is probably the best. An unforgettable experience!

  DAY 30: 10 January

  There’s an enormous squall during the night with a 40-knot wind and pouring rain, making sleep impossible. At daybreak, it gets calmer and promises to be a lovely day. The wind is steady at between 10 and 15 knots on the beam, and Gup happily fizzes on under full sail through the waves. What’s more, there’s some current in the direction we are going, and we’re making good progress. Just 1750 miles to go!

  I’m dreading my arrival more and more. I don’t really care about the fact that I’m the youngest person who’s ever sailed around the world. It doesn’t matter to me how many people there’ll be to welcome me. For me, the ideal reception would be simple: just my best friends, parents and sister. When you’ve been dumped really hard by a country, it really takes a lot to be able to forgive, and I haven’t managed to do that yet. I had a handful of people on my side, but it felt as though the Netherlands had rejected me. What happened has filled me with an anger that has controlled my life until now, but I’m now fighting this. I just had a dream, one that wouldn’t bother anyone. A dream to sail around the world. A girl with a tremendous lot of sailing experience, hope and faith in her ability to fulfil her dream. But she made one mistake, and that was to utter her wish. I regret I ever did that. I wouldn’t be sitting here right now dreading a big reception with a lot of media attention, dreading having to smile for the very journalists who spat me out a year ago but now want to be the first to send their reports.

  Luckily, there was always one person to steadfastly believe in me. Dad always supported me, believed in me and had the courage to let me go. I wouldn’t have come through the bad times without him. Because of him, I’ve had the chance to win back my self-respect and confidence, by doing what I said I would do.

  DAY 31: 11 January

  It looks like we have left the worst of the doldrums behind us. While Winddancer, the New Zealand boat that le
ft a week after me, remains 950 miles behind me and is still enjoying the trade winds in the South Atlantic, Guppy and I are now sailing at a good 6 knots in the trade winds of the North Atlantic. At the moment, she’s the only yacht that I have contact with via the SSB. And that’s more than enough for now. I’m trying to enjoy all the peace and space around me to the full. Just another 12 days before my unity with nature is going to be broken. And, unlike Durban, I won’t have two days to get used to it slowly. I sometimes really dread the idea of my arrival. Of course I’m looking forward to achieving my goal, but, quite honestly, I achieved that goal some time ago. I’ve got to know myself, have learnt and seen a lot and got to know colourful people and countries. The Pacific gave me all the unknown beautiful islands I had dreamt of. The Indian Ocean was a rude awakening out of that dream world; the bad weather, storms and calms; but also the long stretches of sailing that I longed for. The South Atlantic gave me a light trade wind so that I could absorb all my impressions. But is this enough? Soon my world, which consists of Guppy and all my wonderful memories and life experiences, will abruptly make way for crowds and media attention. I’m glad I still have 12 days in the North Atlantic to get used to the idea, because that commotion and attention never featured in my dreams.

  DAY 32: 12 January

  Gup and I have now found the true North Atlantic trade winds, a good 20-knot beam wind that causes the waves to regularly wash over the deck. It’s still very hot and I have the choice of either taking a saltwater shower on deck and getting ice-cold in the wind, or sitting below in the stifling heat because I have to keep all the hatches and the companionway closed to keep out the breaking waves. I decide to alternate between both options . . . Guppy is completely in her element and doesn’t understand why I want to go much slower. She’s chasing through the waves at more than 6.5 knots, and the miles to the finish are diminishing before my eyes.

  DAY 33: 13 January

  The wind freshens at night and the waves continue to grow. In the meantime, the beam seas have become steep and tall, transforming the sea into a churning pot. The view out the portholes below deck looks more like the inside of a washing machine. A flock of birds has been flying close around Guppy and over the tops of the waves all day. The birds look like they’re having a lot more fun than I am, as it’s not really comfortable at the moment. The waves are slowing Guppy down, but she’s slicing through them and we’re making good progress.

  DAY 34: 14 January

  The wind doesn’t let up. The waves are longer and more regular, which means that fewer of them land in the cockpit, making life on board a lot more comfortable. Guppy is still going like a spear under storm jib, reefed mainsail and mizzen. We will be down to a three-digit distance to Saint Martin the day after tomorrow! The birds have escaped to somewhere calmer, but I’m seeing plenty of flying fish again. A few of them land in the cockpit, and I see a school of flying fish being chased by a predator that looks like a dorado. It’s catching up on them, so a few of them are unlikely to survive. Otherwise, it’s difficult to spot much marine life with all the white horses on the sea and the waves that wash over Guppy.

  DAY 35: 15 January

  It’s getting calmer and the companionway can stay open again. It’s lovely to sit in the entrance, from where I can keep an eye on everything without being hit by a wave. Alas, this is not the case for the flying fish that continue to jump onto and over Guppy. I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this, but they continue to attack me . . . I was just trying to enjoy a few rays of sunshine when — wham! — a huge flying fish struck me on the head. If I hadn’t blocked its way, it would have landed inside again! The waves are still big, but Guppy is really enjoying herself and sailing at a speed of 8 knots. It’s beginning to look as though my arrival in Saint Martin is going to be earlier than expected . . .

  DAY 36: 16 January

  The waves are becoming less rough, making life on board more comfortable. Unfortunately, Guppy is surrounded by squalls that have been plaguing me all day with sudden strong gusts on the beam or from ahead, but no rain. It means that I’m kept busy all day with the sails and the course. Through my efforts, Guppy is still sailing at an average speed of 5 knots. There are just 780 miles left between Guppy and the finish now, and I think I will reach Saint Martin on the 21st at this speed. I still haven’t absorbed the fact that I’ve more than sailed around the world. It’s such a strange notion that the one thing I’ve dreamt about since the age of eight has now been fulfilled. My life’s journey is now almost behind me and I’m overwhelmed by the feeling that I don’t want it to end yet.

  The squalls are keeping me awake at night, and the heavens have opened over Guppy. I’m glad about that, because it’s getting rid of most of the salt that covers Gup and I can take a good, if icy-cold, shower. An hour later, Gup and I receive another salty wave breaking over us, so we don’t really get much time to enjoy being clean.

  DAY 37: 17 January

  Towards morning, the squalls disappear and it turns into one of the nicest days since I left the South Atlantic behind me; with just a few clouds, a good wind and some gentle waves. Guppy has gained even more on Winddancer, who now lies 1130 miles behind her. They’ve just reached the Equator. I haven’t had contact with them for a couple of days as there was something wrong with their SSB radio microphone, but they’ve managed to fix it. Now we can have our daily chat again, which is a nice change from the infinite seascape around me. Guppy still has 610 miles to go, which should take approximately four days in these favourable winds. It’s now getting fearfully close, and I’m no longer able to ignore the thought of my arrival that easily.

  DAY 38: 18 January

  Now that the end destination of my voyage is coming closer, I regularly think back on the experiences along the way but especially the year that preceded it. The painful recollections sometimes take up hours of my day and hurt badly. Now I’ve been almost right around the world, entered difficult harbours, avoided dangerous reefs, survived the heaviest storms and taken full responsibility for both Guppy’s and my own safety.

  DAY 39: 19 January

  It’s going to be a beautiful, sunny day with less wind than yesterday, so it will be peaceful sailing. Guppy is still sailing at 5.5 knots, fast enough to arrive on the 21st. Another 280 miles to go and I think I’ll see the first islands tomorrow. This means that this is the last day of my voyage in which I will start in an infinite trough of waves that undulate all the way to the horizon and end it in the same way. I still haven’t really got used to the idea that in two days’ time I will be the youngest person ever to have sailed around the world. In the meantime, I’m beginning to look forward to my arrival a little more. Eating fresh food, walking, running and seeing my family. Moreover, my 34-year-old mate, Guppy, also deserves some rest after nearly 6000 miles. She’s done brilliantly and demanded little maintenance; something I have to thank Dad for. It’s thanks to his enormous experience with yachts and these kind of voyages that Guppy has been so well equipped for my big voyage.

  DAY 40: 20 January

  It’s slowly getting lighter; I have 160 miles ahead of me according to the plotter, and the first small island is in sight. Guadeloupe is hiding just below the horizon, but will probably come into sight this afternoon. Just 365 days ago I was on the other side of Guadeloupe and sailing off in the opposite direction, with a string of barrels and nets that I’d just sailed through . . . Since then, a whole life has passed before me. It feels just like yesterday, but also as if it were centuries ago. At that stage, I didn’t have a clue that I would ever come back here; a year later with a whole lot of life experience and over 27,000 more miles under Guppy’s keel. But I’m really here and have sailed all around the world. Yes, it’s beginning to dawn on me very, very slowly . . . but I still can’t absorb it all.

  The finish!

  DAY 41: 21 January

  The darkness and amazing starlit sky of the last evening at sea is disappearing slowly, and the lights that have been
twinkling on the horizon change into islands. I see Saint Martin in the distance, Saint Eustatius behind me, Saba next to me and Saint Barth right ahead of me.

  The scheduled opening of the bridge in Saint Martin is at 15.00 and I will have to sail at a speed of 4 knots to make it. Guppy is doing 5.5 knots with the mizzen, reefed mainsail and partially furled genoa. Exactly 366 days ago, I was heading south on the other side of these islands and watching Saint Martin disappearing below the horizon. I recognise the shapes of the islands, and it’s slowly sinking in that I once again have Saint Martin lying ahead of Guppy’s bow and that it has taken exactly a year to circumnavigate the world.

  A heavy squall blows over Guppy and she’s going way too fast. The islands disappear behind a heavy downpour, and it’s frustrating being so near to Saint Martin but having to wait to be allowed to sail in. On the other hand, what are a few hours compared with the 41 days that I’ve taken to make the crossing from Cape Town? I eventually stop Guppy on the leeward side of Saint Barth and wait for a signal from Saint Martin that I can sail in. Finally I receive the message to come in . . .