Things were looking good yesterday for Team Hydra as we sped south looking for those Atlantic good times. The brochure said, 20 knot winds, great waves, sun, dolphins and much much more. We had eventually capitulated the lead to Earendil who despite our efforts slowly pulled away from us over a number of hours. Hats off to Catherine and her team who are sailing three up versus our four.
We were almost grateful when we lost sight of our arch rivals and settled into our own rhythm, focused on heading for the south to see if the bigger breeze may change our fortunes and put us back in touch again.
Just when we were at our most vulnerable, 3 days out and starting to thing we were in control, the Atlantic rose up and reminded us of who was boss and one small mistake escalated to a bad day on water. It started with a tack line slipping and ended with one of our team in the water cutting shreds of spinnaker from around the rudders.
Two hours later we had taken our medicine and Hydra was flying south again. It’s been a busy night with gusts in the mid twenties. Top boats speed has been 20.4 knots. On deck the plumes of spray sparkled silver in the moonlight which made them look very pretty before they slapped you in the face. Our eyes are red with salt water, foreheads are crusty with salt but we are smiling. Below decks the noise is a cacophony of swirling and slapping, amplified and in stereo but it doesn’t matter because when you fall onto that bean bag nothing will stop sleep from coming.
Hydra has been down, but she is not out and there are over 2000 more miles to battle it out. Green is the new black!
Pip on Hydra