Vasco da Gama – PE to Mossel Bay – Thanks a mil guys

By Keith Shearer of 1st Knysna Sea Scouts

Hey Tony, Ja been out of Facebook a while.

I wasn’t too sure how to comment on this thing … joy, fear or education. So to put something in words, I thought I’d just try and explain to you about my cup of tea at sea. Now that sounds like a simple thing, but you need to start by understanding that a cup of tea is optional, and if you don’t need to do anything more than you might need to do on this yacht thing, well then why would you want to do it. Because anything you set out to do on yacht is a difficulty. And when I say difficulty it’s usually coupled to risk, and that kind of implies death. Our scouts will recite 100 ways you can die on a canoe – hey guys, this is much more fun, with about a 1000 ways to die. Anyway what I was meaning was made very clear on day-one … skipper introduced to us harnesses … it’s like a safety belt with 2 carabiners on it. Heavy duty stainless steel jobs with man-size jaws and double locking biting things …

“So there are several positions on the boat where you can clip on, and suggest you do it before we leave the breakwater” … check your life jackets, lots of metal clips a flashlight and the ball strap – a leash from back to front of life jacket via the crouch … turns out it helps not to lose your yellow waterproof trousers.

So there we are, waterproofed, life-jacketed, harnessed, light rain, good wind, and heading for the ocean on the motor. OK, so all good, no turning back. Up with the sails, and into the ocean we go, skipper shouts, “out with the main”, “in with the genoa”, “cleat the furling”. The crew all start operating, he turns the wheel and before we know it, the yacht is 45 degrees with the wind tugging at the sails and all us newbie’s clawed into the plastic fuselage. Looking up, I saw somewhere between the clouds, Zimran’s face, teeth clenched and eyes as big as saucers. I guess mine was the same. The boat bounced back, skipper quite unperturbed corrected all our mistakes and off we went, harnessed all the way to Mossel Bay.

I clearly remember this 45 degree angle making an impression. When we were kids we would just enjoy the thrill, but now as an adult I have a knack of evaluating the risk, and then safetying it up. You want the risk, just not the accidents. And at that point, I was thinking, everything is wet and slippery, everything is moving and wobbly, rain and wind are adding difficulty, usual shipping hazards, and we’re small out here in this massive ocean, and the realisation that, that was just the first 30 mins, wind wasn’t that strong, swell wasn’t that big, and that us crew weren’t that well trained, in fact besides the 2 skippers, none of us had actually done 39ft yacht. My little brain just wasn’t going to do the maths, I already knew there were too many things multiplying up to make any sense. Like it was “E” on the calculator.

So now why would you want that cup of tea ? Ok so on the run-up to the event, skipper asked me to get some provisions, top up what was there and get some more for our journey. There were suggestions on the list, but generally the food was basic. I happened to notice on the “already got” list, 2 dozen eggs, so I did the obvious, and bought 3 packs of the best bacon I could find, you know the one that looks like a chop – great nothing like a hot breakfast on the boat, and beating miserable weather with good hot food is the easiest morale booster trick in the book.

Then just after my little deckhand duty – get out a rope, bucket, tie knots to bucket and boat, dip and draw water twice, rinse sea-sick off the gunnels, and then put everything back, which took no less than 30 mins! The skipper joked – so what you gonna do with that bacon ? Ha ha, I was beginning to understand – pass the rusks thanks.

Then later Tony actually made coffee for some of us, and perhaps this renewed my spirit. Although after that, with a thud Tony was expelled from the kitchen and deposited on the chart table. He took quite a tumble, although we were now just doing our usual rolling motion over the endless swell, which seemed to be fairly constant average around 3m and 30knots wind all of Saturday and night.

And then on another 30 minute chore – trip to the bathroom – you cannot imagine how difficult this could be, and don’t forget about that ball strap, life jacket and rain suit, all in a space as big as your broom cupboard and with the only 100% leaky window in the house. We joke with our scouts “no bos-kak no Springbok badge”. Well this would be the badge of all badges in that department. Definitely add to bucket list … so on this journey, I had to pass the galley, and the cute little stove was swinging away on its sea designed hinges … I just had to beat this ocean somehow.

But now it was time for some shut-eye, because we taking turns for the night sailing, and Tony and I were 22:00 till 1:00 and then 4:00 till 7:00, Brian and Bruce in between. Now you must know that this yacht is not that easy to steer – on the one hand you want to keep your heading, on the other you want to point it optimally to the wind tension your sails and not lose your position to that force, and then you want to ride the waves like a speed boat for speed, comfort and less struggle. And unlike a car, the rudder is at the back of the boat, and seems to respond like it was the last one to get the order too. Then just when you think you understand that, it seems to stack up all your compensating turns and use them after that too. So not so easy, and if you stray too long, it all get worse with wind and sails starting to complain too. Ok, now let’s give the helm to the novice and let him get some training before bedtime. So already one is fearful, and one’s attention is drawn for every pitch, creak, wave knock, sail shudder, hull slam, or other sound to identify. What do you call it, when you are on this edge, ready to what, react to what, just ready ? … Scared.

So time for some sleep. Ha ha, let’s call it shut-eye, I didn’t sleep, I tuned into every sound and motion on this awesome death-trap. But the motion was nice, and being lower in the boat and horizontal with nothing to crash into, it was relaxing and nice. Even my mind doubting my fate was interesting. Nice in the dark, and all the sounds are exaggerated in the fuselage, ropes and ratchets are quite loud. Comforting that the crew are awake and doing their duties, anxious going through the gybes.

Nightshift – my turn on deck again … 10 mins just to get out of bed and back into the gear. Now it was a different ball game – black sea, can’t see the surf coming, just feel it hit you, and if you not convinced, the occasional sea spray in your face, and some down your neck just to keep you sharp. Dinner ? nobody really bothered, dry worse and a rusk. Then the steering, hmmm, I had got to like using the compass to hold my general heading, and its roll seemed to have a predictable motion for me. OK so, lets take that away – the battery and light had some issue. So now I was down to just the windex, at the top of the mast, and the chart plotter which was glaringly bright and killing my night vision. So now basically I was navigating the beast with my head pointed straight up at the windex on top of the mast – not only the strangest driving position, but also with the stars swaying about it, a totally different type of motion confusion, like having my head shoved into some sort of 3D telescope – interesting, but difficult. So here we were 20 – 30 Knots wind, with serious swell getting bigger as we ventured further from the coast, blind to the ocean, blind to the skies, driving yacht head up, looking something like Stevie Wonder.

So deciding that a cup of tea was out, I thought I’d reconcile my thoughts and decided to chat to Tony about the theory of keel-boat sailing …
Me: “basically these things can pitch right over and because of the big heavy keel will just naturally right themselves, right ?”
Long pause, Tony not giving me anything …

“Well, yes you’d think that, but … “

And then like someone telling ghost stories, Tony as he so naturally sailed the Rotary Scout, proceeded to tell me how it is, and why they have certain emergency tools – basically to dismantle the boat when it’s upside down; cut away the life raft. Skippers chat you know, same reason dive instructors and skydive jump masters have knives. He and Brian had already had their own level 2 chat.

Somewhere here I had now decided that this was crazy, it was fun, it was work, and I think I was enjoying it. Part of my ease to endure was my trust in the boat and the skippers. And I must say a big thank you Scouts and all the people and their efforts in maintaining the Rotary Scout, she was in good nick, sea-worthy and with 99% of stuff all working, which with all the equipment it has and since we lost a life ring thing on our 2 day voyage is about as good as it gets with these things. Well done all, and a brilliant venture by Scouts to undertake this passage touching so many different people. The two skippers, first time they had met each other, and they worked well together. One gets the feeling that that a yacht skipper will only relax if he’s 100% certain about safety – I should know, Tony asked me to wake up skipper Brian about a dot on the chart plotter that we couldn’t fathom out electronically or with manual charts. But trust comes when the vibe is that the one skipper trusts the other, voices are relaxed, and even in the stormy conditions no cross checking or questioning. Feeling that “easiness of experience” that the skippers both exuded certainly made everyone feel safe. And I thought Tony just played with bicycles and surf boards – respect bro, you are a very professional skipper. I really enjoyed this time with you and I admire your natural skill, I think everyone did.

Then the shift was up, back to bed – don’t worry, the other 2 will do the work. So now my mind had answered everything, taken it all in, the trick was to accept it for what it was, and these conditions were already quite mean, and the boat could take more. OK shut-eye, try get some real sleep. I was thinking I was now wining this psychological onslaught, when B & B decided it was time to execute their worst gybe ever. You hear orders, ropes an ratchets so you know it’s coming, but this time there was a problem some ropes that had tangled, and they had to fix it, obviously Brian had it all under control, because the flapping and beating of ropes on the decking meant he would have been nose into the wind and sorting out one problem at a time. But from where I lay, it sounded like panels coming lose and beating against my cabin.

Morning shift back on deck with Tony, and then an incredible sunrise as we came past Robberg. Someone came up with a plate of yogurt. Out here you don’t bother with 10 second rules and any of this new age crap, a clean plate and spoon is another 10 minute effort with risk of injury. So as soon as he was done … pass the yogurt, plate and spoon, thanks bud, geez that was good, to hell with the bacon and egg – too difficult. Then Tony did the same, and polished off the yogurt. Cool.

And now I was able to put it all together – I’ve done various adventure sports and there is always an element of fear and or risk – but the feature of yachting that distinguishes it from the rest, is scare endurance. I would say that I was somehow scared for 24 hours. And that was the thrill, not fear, fear gives you dry mouth, this was scaredome, edginess, “what if” alertness like no other. Other factors like, “no way out … for 3 days” give it grip, and “responsibility for other’s lives” rounds off the experience.

So on that understanding, me and yacht, and big ocean, and crew buddies, I made that cup of tea. Not many takers, most were like – why waste your time with tea of all things, but this was my egg and bacon, another step towards conquering this thing. Even though the pouring from kettle to cup was also another story on planet yacht.

Finally I passed out and got some real sleep. By Definition, so real zzz’s.

I came to with Tony surfing her down the waves making mini speed records each time. Our boat speeds was 5 to 10 knots, mostly 7-8 and peeking 12’s.
Then onto the engine project – there was a problem with the engine cooling system and we needed it to get into port and what would a yachting experience be without something to fix. So we had a real good all round experience, which is what I had hoped for.

So that was my yachting experience. Of course as soon as we hit land we were all heros, but let me tell you it was genuine scary at the time, like 24 hours scary, and according to me the only way to get that experience is by yacht.

So when we sailing again ?