Day 22: mopping up Irene’s mess

Last night was pretty uncomfortable at first as the wind died but the enormous swells took much longer to subside, so the boat rolled horribly until the early hours. It didn’t help that what little wind there was kept changing it’s mind on where to blow so I kept having to rush up on deck to change the set of the sails or fiddle with the autopilot.

In the end I did what I usually do and just left it to do what it wanted while I slept. I have the utmost respect for solo racing types like Ellen MacArthur and Pete Goss but honestly can’t imagine myself ever doing what they do. If the wind shifts they immediately rush up on deck all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, tweaking a sail here or tightening a line there to squeeze the last fraction of a knot out of the boat.

I’m afraid I really can’t be bothered as it’s all far too much like hard work and besides I’m in no rush. France isn’t going anywhere for the time being and I’ll get there in my own good time, thank you. The thing I dislike most about this trip is the constant interruptions to my sleep from the boat which always seems to want attention at the most inconvenient times. I think next time I’ll be done with it and buy a nice big Sunseeker complete with marble bathrooms, shag pile carpets, and an attentive crew in little white uniforms. It’ll whisk me across the ocean at 40 knots and I won’t have to do a thing.

Meanwhile, back in the real world, I’ve spent the morning trying to make a start on tidying up after Irene. The first job was to get all the bilge water out of the fridge. Yuk! I didn’t know it was there till I poured the milk onto my morning cereal and it smelt suspiciously of diesel and rancid socks. I’m no chef but even I know that’s not right, and further investigation revealed a scummy tidemark around my beer and cheese. It seems there’s a drainage pipe from the bottom of the fridge into the bilge so any spillages don’t linger, but with the influx of water yesterday combined with some silly angles of heel it all came gushing upwards.

After that I tried to make some of the hatches a bit more watertight as most of them still leak, despite my efforts to do it before I left. It seems the sealant I used at the advice of the boatyard is not up to the job and is not flexible enough to cope with the inevitable movement of the boat, so has cracked and come away in places. I can’t do much about it out here so plastered masses of good old duct tape all over everything.

The bedding in both main cabins is soaking wet but luckily the little crew cabin seems to have escaped the floods, so I’m sleeping in there now. It’s got a brass plate over the door saying ‘Captain’s Quarters’ so I feel very grand as I retire to my personal cabin at night. I haven’t yet decided which of the passengers to invite to dine at my table tonight so will leave them to sweat it out till the last minute before I end their misery. Mind you, the only bona fide passengers are Clarence the dog and a small plastic fairy called Anne, and I certainly wouldn’t dream of inviting any stowaway cockroaches to dinner unless of course they were dressed appropriately

Progress today is slower but at least we’re still heading in vaguely the right direction, despite an annoying north-easterly when I was hoping for a westerly. These so-called trade winds are very fickle so I can’t imagine how they ever came to get their name. It’s surprising any trade ever made it over the Atlantic in the days of sail unless all the ships were captained by Ellen MacArthur and her ilk. Meanwhile I’ll just carry on ambling across the pond at my own leisurely pace, taking in the scenery as I go.

Oh, and before I forget, I’m afraid I claimed my first roadkill victim today. In Florida I seemed to have a thing for squashing iguanas beneath my wheels, and now the fish are leaping out of the water and committing suicide when they see me approach. Yes, today I found my first ever flying fish on deck. Sad little thing it was too, all slender and fragile with long wings and big eyes. Too small to fry (even for a vegetarian) so I donated him back to the food chain.

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