This morning I woke up to read this article on Abby Sunderland, a young sailor, who is attempting an around the world sail singlehandedly. If you sail, then you know how dangerous this is, and as this article indicates, perhaps that danger has now placed Abby’s life in danger.
I grew up in Youngstown, Ohio, and never though much of sailing. While in college I read about a guy who had worked for the Cleveland Plain Dealer, the largest newspaper in Cleveland, and who had managed to plan and sail the Atlantic Ocean in a boat that was just over 13 feet long…about the size of your car. His name was Robert Manry, and what he did influenced me to become a sailor when I found my way to San Diego some years later. Here’s a very short clip about his adventure.
But this story about Abby, a single day of which is recounted below from her blog, instructs us in the great adventure that awaits us every single day, doing the important, doing the mundane, living, longing, experiencing this opportunity to be the best we can be.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
A Tale from the Sea
Hey everyone,
Sorry it has been so long since I wrote. There were some problems with one of the Inmarsat satellites and so I wasn’t able to get online. That’s all sorted out now though and hopefully won’t happen again.I have had a pretty busy past few days. Things went well getting out of Cape Town – everything was working well and I was having a lot of fun with my new auto pilot. I’ve been able to carry a lot more sail with the working auto pilot and making some pretty good speeds.
A few days ago (I’m sorry I don’t know exactly how long – the days started to blur together after awhile). I was sailing along nicely doing about 12-15 knots in perfect conditions. The wind started to pick up just as it was getting dark and was a bit too much for the sail I had up, so I went out to reef, but the sail wouldn’t come down. After a while I realized it was stuck on the top spreaders.
There was a line on the top of the sail meant to help when pulling it down so I don’t have to climb all over the boom. While I was in Cape Town I think someone may have messed around with it a bit. I had never had trouble with it before. The wind was starting to pick up even more and it seemed like the only thing to fix it was go up the mast. I called one of the guys from my team just to run everything by him. Well, nobody was too excited about the idea of me going up the mast in over 30 knots but there was no doubt that it would have to be done to free that line. While the team went to check the weather forecast for a break in the conditions I went down below and dug out my boson’s chair, helmet, padded suit and all the gear I needed to pull myself up the mast.
Back out on deck it was dark out now and Wild Eyes was almost heeled all the way over on her side with the auto pilot struggling to keep her on course. Eventually, the autopilot couldn’t handle it though. I had to get Wild Eyes hove to. It was too dark to see anything and my little flashlight wasn’t much help. With Wild Eyes headed just off the wind and riding the waves it was still a pretty wild ride. The seas seemed to have no backs to them and Wild Eyes would plow up and through the waves and seemed to fly through the air before crashing back into the sea.
It wasn’t all that easy keeping myself on board while trying to get the spinnaker halyard down and get my bosun’s chair hooked up. I was trying to think positively. In general things like this wouldn’t have scared me, but I couldn’t help thinking how I was going to get myself almost to the top of the mast when I couldn’t see what I was doing and was having a difficult time just standing on deck. I kept telling myself worrying wasn’t going to do any good. I had enough to focus on in front of me without getting bent out of shape over going up a mast I had been up hundreds of times before.
As I pulled up the halyard it kept getting stuck on everything because of the wild motions of the boat. If I couldn’t get it up with out it getting stuck then it would definitely get stuck when I was trying to let myself down and this was not a good night to get stuck at the top of a mast, not that any night is.
I like going up the mast and I like heavy wind, but going up the mast when it is pitch black, when it’s gusting well over 30 knots and wave after wave is breaking over the whole boat, well, that’s just a bit much. I wasn’t going to be going up the mast, at least not that way. I still had the back up main halyard so I went out to the end of the boom were it was clipped on and started getting that ready. It was wrapped around something but I couldn’t see what. I tried to get it untangled, but not being able to see what it was tangled around I was just getting it tangled even worse. That was the only other way for me to get up the mast. I needed to get it untangled. I couldn’t see that high up with my flashlight no matter how hard I tried. It was maddening.
I needed to get up there but I couldn’t. I had done just about everything I possibly could, but I was at a dead end. I was completely out of ideas and beginning to get more scared that I couldn’t do anything about it than I had been about going up the mast in the first place.
I called Jeff from my team again and told him I was stuck for ideas. He said that the weather was going to get better the next day and that I should wait until daylight to take a better look at things. I spent the night sitting up at the chart desk. There was no point in trying to sleep. I knew that I wouldn’t have been able to.
The next day the wind started to lighten, not much but enough that I could sail with my main where it was. It was still a bit rough out but if I could sail I could get somewhere with lighter wind and get up the mast safely. I was just headed out to set things up outside when I heard something hit the hull. I jumped outside to see what it was. My bowsprit was hanging in the water attached by one line on the bottom of the boat. Hanging down off the front of the boat, I could almost reach the line, waiting for the boat to rock so I could pull it up. The boat did rock, a little more then I had hoped for and I had to pull myself back up to keep from falling in. I dug out my boat hook and gave that a try. It was still almost impossible to get the line up high enough that I didn’t have to hang down off the side. It seemed like everytime I got the line up on deck a wave would hit and I would have to hold on, dropping the line of course, then having to start all over again on cutting the line. It took a good long time, but eventually I was able to cut through the line. Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to get it back on board. Fortunately, I only use it with my Code Zero that I only use in very light wind so the loss wasn’t too serious.
This blog is starting to get pretty long so I’ll hurry things up a bit. I spent that day and night sailing towards a spot where there was some lighter wind, still not ideal for going up the mast alone, but out here you can’t be too picky about that sort of thing.
I was on the phone with my mom the next morning, just giving her my position and letting her know what was going on. The Iridium phone had been having awful reception down here and so I went outside hoping to get a better signal. I was looking around at things out there and saw that the line didn’t look like it was stuck any more. I set the phone down and went to let the main down. It came sliding right down just as fast as it usually does. I picked the phone back up, told my mom and quickly got off so I could get the line off the sail before it got stuck on something else. I got the line off and my main back up and changed course heading back south into the stronger winds.
It was an incredible relief. I just sat on the side of the boat watching as the sun started to come up. It had been an interesting past few days. I would have been very happy if none of that had happened, but, it’s gonna make a great chapter in the book!!
Today, I have a good 25-30 knots with the auto pilot working perfectly and making a steady 10 knots on course eastward. I have had a good night’s sleep and am feeling happy again to be out here doing what I love!
Abby, may the wind be fresh and steady in your face, and may you be safe, either atop the crests, or in God’s loving arms.
Me….I’m happy to be doing what I love.
Ed says:
Wow, well put, though she might have checked some of that equipment _before_ heavy weather/nightfall.
What an incredible tale. Once I had just to get a haliard off the end of a boom under way. Everyone on board (a bunch of old salts) thought I was a hero just for that!
Whew!
June 10, 2010 — 3:29 pm