Well yesterday was a real ‘Ball-ache’ as we watched the last bit of what had looked like a brilliant 5 day forecast fade away. It kept us on full standby to the end and then with a final twist of malice... tried to send us into a concrete wall. I’ll admit that I had a good, hard moan about it. 

The day had shaped up perfectly and we hit the speed-course as soon as the tide would allow. At first we were worried that it was going to build. The wind hung around 15-17 knots until mid afternoon. Just long enough for us to begin to lose hope. Then it began to build.

When the gusts hit 21 knots we took VESTAS SAILROCKET up to the top of the course for the nautical mile. This takes us around the top end of the speed-strip and into second lagoon. It means we can hit the very start of the course at pace and use every meter of it. By the time we got to the launch site it was already strong. The team at the timing huts radioed that the wind was gusting to 25 knots. We raised the rig hoping that it wouldn’t build further. It did. Gusts hit 27 knots and we stood there in the waste deep water on standby. I got the guys monitoring the TACKTICK instruments to radio in every 26 knot peak so I could guage their regularity. The day rolled on towards sunset and I got increasingly frustrated. Things weren’t dropping off.

I knew we could easily bag this mile record if given a chance and now I was getting forced into a corner. I can’t just sheet in and ‘shoot’ in this boat... not in winds this strong anyway. The boat gives me no real feel or feedback apart from an almighty shove in the back. In 27 knots of wind she wants to do 65 knots according to the prediction. Of course cavitation, control and structural issues will mess with us long before then. The fact is it will happen in fractions of a second. The water on the course will also be pretty rough. I don’t care about how much wind the other teams have sailed in or how they gamble their runs. We have to stick with our knowledge of our own craft and the pressures of our own project.

As the sun dipped towards the horizon and the big gusts still came through I cursed the whole sport and climbed in the cock-pit. I was going to go for a sail regardless. If we really get pushed into a corner in the remaining two weeks then I might need to just go for it on a day like this. I decided to go for an easy sail with a shallow wing angle and no main flap. I wanted to try lining up on the course to get in close to the shore. This is essential in strong conditions as the water gets rough very quickly just a little way out.

The launch went well. As soon as I headed dead down wind out of second lagoon towards the start of the magical mile I knew it was too much. VESTAS SAILROCKET was partially planing dead down wind and I struggled to keep her where I wanted her. I called to the support team that I was going to abandon. The ICOM VHF’s let me down for the n’th time. I kept trying on the radio to communicate with Nick in the RIB just 50 meters away but to no avail. I quickly made hand signals but I needed both to control the boat as I hit the turn in point for the course. They had no idea of my intentions. I decided to make the final call after the round-up. I left the wing well eased and must have turned in a lull as it went very smoothly. VESTAS SAILROCKET still shot up to the mid 30’s but then sat there due to the 20-22 degree setting of the wing... like half throttle. This gave me plenty of time to line up the course. Visibility was surprisingly good so I stuck on the course and enjoyed the ride. I reminded myself not to get sucked in by the lulls only to get smashed by the gust. It turned out that the peak during the run was 25.4 knots and 17 in the lulls. Gusty, crap conditions. The wind was also around 90 degrees. I gradually sheeted in towards the end but left the flap out. We had made our point by safely and accurately sailing onto the course in strong conditions.

I sailed off the end of the course and into the lagoon as the sun hit the horizon. A combination of the unusually tight wind angle and the tide sent me straight towards the solid concrete wall which lines the esplanade along the lagoon. I was worried that it might be too deep for Alex and Hiskia to keep a good footing in order to stop the lunging boat. The possibility of running into a concrete wall was looming. The... and this really pissed me off... the wind finally died. The controls went sluggish as the wing no longer had the drive to push the submerged leeward pod along. I struggled to hold off a gybe with full lock on the rudder and maximum ease of the wing. I was pointing straight at the wall which was only 80’ away. The boys were now in the water and trying to run up to their wastes. Next up, right on cue with nothing but malice in it’s breath... the wind gusted and accelerated me towards the concrete. I could see by the look on Alex’s face that he was fully aware of the importance of the upcoming catch. Hiskia dived away from the sharp end of the pod and grabbed it on the way by. Alex hung on to the bow for grim death whilst I hurled instructions through the full-face helmet. Together they did a great job of spinning the bow around. The pod swung by the concrete with a foot to spare. I kid you not as I actually though it hit.

We lowered the rig in the dark whilst I cursed the whole of Africa. The team were happy to be towing the boat back in one piece. I had a deep sensation of dissatisfaction. I was gutted with the whole day. We had been denied again. Of course there is nothing we could do about it, but that made no difference to my mood. The only thing that made it better was a few beers and a wicked slice of Nick’s birthday cake back at the house. I lay awake for much of the night considering our options. Losing sleep over such things is always a pointless exercise that the dawn quickly washes away. So we get ready to roll again. The wind is picking up and the forecast is improving. I’m not even going to get remotely excited today. It seems to be counter productive. We will wear this damned thing down. The only thing that will halt my own stubbornness will be the budget.

In case you haven’t noticed... I really, really want this.

Cheers, Paul

p.s. this blog is late because I’ve already written and lost it once before. We all know that joy!