Clipper Update 4: Qingdao to Seattle

April 21, 2018

Clipper Update 4: Qingdao to Seattle

Clipper Update 4 Qingdao to Seattle

Well, as you may have seen, Nasdaq and her 10 sister ships made it safely across the immense Pacific Ocean from China to arrive, tired and rather travel weary in Seattle, where we have been enjoying some uncharacteristically warm sunny weather whilst we recuperate and adjust flush toilets, hot showers and protein.

The race across the Pacific was somewhat longer than expected due to a slow start in fog-bound calm seas between China and Japan. Although the sun shone and we had blue skies above, on all sides at sea level was thick freezing fog which concealed fishing boats, super tankers and large amounts of weed, some of which got caught around our rudders, necessitating one of the crew to don swimming trunks and a snorkel to cut it free. We also did our bit for the environment by cleaning the ocean of a sail-sized tarpaulin which also managed to attach itself to our keel.

Eventually we rounded the southern tip of Japan, past a steaming volcano and an impressive mountain range, before heading up along the east coast towards Tokyo. We left the coast to turn eastwards before we got close to the main urban centres but encountered lots of commercial shipping and large ferries. From then on we were on our own, with 4500 miles of ocean before us and only a few lonely albatrosses to keep us company. It was plain but relatively slow sailing for the first week, where we kept ourselves amused by calculating whether at the prevailing speed we would arrive before Christmas, or before the tea bags ran out. Whilst the prospect of rationing tea didn't really worry me, the implications were that some of the tea drinkers might switch to coffee and deplete that at the same rate, which would have been a real concern. In reality the diminishing gas supply was a major worry such that we had to restrict our tea drinking and baking to 4 loaves every other day instead of two each day. Whether that resulted in much gas saving was a subject of long debate, but we did arrive with one bottle intact.

The lack of wind meant we were able to use the Windseeker, our lightest sail which is like a cross between a spinnaker and a yankee (our white foresail or jib). Normally windseeker and Pacific Ocean are not words you would use together, as the windseeker has a top windspeed rating of about 8 knots of breeze, but such are the unusual climatic conditions we are experiencing that we had it up for several days, during which it certainly did its job of finding wind.

That was when the storm arrived, building relentlessly through a cold grey rainy day and night, when fortunately i was on mother watch baking bread, and reaching its crescendo the following day which was bright and sunny for the most part, but bitterly cold when I was back on deck. It's hard to describe how immensely powerful it seemed, roaring unceasingly like an express train and how small and insignificant our boat seemed as it was lifted up and hurled down the face of wave after wave. The waves just kept getting bigger and bigger, rising up behind the boat in massive blue green and white flecked walls, lifting us up and then bearing us forward in a plume of white and glacier green foam. From the helm you looked down the deck to see the bow plunge like a roller-coaster, reaching up to 30 knots, which is almost 55km/h before recovering and rising back up again. Helming was a nerve wracking job, which after the wind gusted over 50 knots I was happy to leave to the experts, although even our best helmers couldn't keep up for more than 15-20 minutes at a time as it's so physically demanding. By evening the storm was at its peak, the cockpit regularly filling up with water, which usually drained away quite quickly, the sea-state (ie the wave height) had reached an official classification of "phenomenal" meaning in excess of 14 metres, and the wind was averaging around 70knots (or 120km/h) hurricane strength or force 12 on the old salts' scale. Then we decided to gybe, a manoeuvre which on most boats is quite straightforward if done carefully, but on a 70' clipper requires careful coordination amongst at least 6 people.

Unfortunately we weren't quite as coordinated as we should have been and a sheet got wrapped around a winch the wrong way, injuring one crew member's hand. Eventually it was cut free, but not before the yankee had flogged itself to death and ripped down the luff. It took a while to retrieve all the shredded bits and then we hoisted the storm jib, a small orange sail which helps keep the boat stable in high winds. Unfortunately, again, it didn't go quite by the book, with the shackle by which it is pulled up the forestay snapping, leaving the sail to fall back and the halyard to go to the top of the mast where it stayed until conditions were such that it was safe to send someone up the mast to get it back.

Whilst all this was happening, a tonne of water came over the bow and knocked the cockpit crew over like ninepins. Most of us were ok, if a little wet, but one person was washed down the deck and under the traveller, getting badly bruised in the process. So with two crew members out of action, we had limited resources and decided to stay with the storm jib which we flew for the whole of the next day until we could retrieve the yankee halyard and put up the stay sail. Fortunately none of the injuries was serious but it did mean two of our watch (the crew is divided into two watches with 9 in each, who alternate between being on duty or eating/sleeping) were confined below decks to cooking, cleaning, emptying the bilges and filling in the log book for the rest of the voyage, leaving us a bit short handed on deck at times.

So after a slow start the Pacific lived up to its reputation and we started to recover some ground as the miles to Seattle fell away. It reminded us just how immense the ocean is, and how powerful. It really is the cauldron of the world's weather, with a phenomenal amount of energy falling on it which has to go somewhere. It's also vast in a way that's hard to appreciate by looking at a map or out of an aeroplane window and it's easy to understand that 70% of the earth is water - in fact the planet shouldn't be called Earth at all. The storm was a humbling experience, we didn't conquer the ocean, nobody conquers an ocean, but we survived it using skill, a little luck and some good training, as well as lots of warm clothes, up to 7 layers at some times.

So after a relentless 29 days (not including the free one for crossing the date line) we arrived at the west coast of America, close to Vancouver, and after crossing the finishing line, we were able to drop the sails and motor down Puget Sound to Bell Marina in the heart of downtown Seattle. Seattle put on its finest spring weather and for a week we have been enjoying its hospitality, its coffee, its craft beer, its markets and restaurants, museums and parks before we get back on and do it all again. This time however, we will be heading south, down the coast past San Francisco, Los Angeles and Mexico to Panama, and then up to New York. The race starts tomorrow so be sure to watch it live on Facebook and follow our progress on the race viewer. Also go to the Clipper Round the World site to see some of the videos from the Pacific race, and don't forget to dig deep to support our Unicef fund raising. As always the links to our just giving and local hero sites are here and here

Sail strong, stay stormy

Graham and Jane