Comments onboard
20/08/2008 - 07:00 - Equatorial night
“The equator is an imaginary line which separates the earth into two hemispheres…” we learn soberly at the school of landlubbers. For the sailor the word equator has a very special significance. For us it designates instead “a rather uncertain, complicated zone with its own share of surprises"...
At this latitude the atmosphere, swollen with dampness and heat, is a melting pot of weather phenomena. They are born here, develop, move, grow or die at spectacular speeds. Often overtaken by their speed of evolution, meteorologists have long been tearing their hair out trying to understand, rationalise, or predict them… at best. Of course the grand principles are known entity: pinpointing the principal air masses as they progress, the satellites observing and measuring them and the modern recording stations providing us with increasingly pertinent information. Despite all that, randomness is the key word here. On the ocean of realities the sailors suffers the whims of this infernal zone. In a state of total anarchy, it produces its calms, its clouds, its storms, its squalls, and throws any fine theories to the wind. It’s the Doldrums!
In order to make the Java Sea further south, hit the tradewinds and filter down into the Indian Ocean, Gitana 13 has been tackling this perilous exercise since yesterday. Sylvain, our weather router, is flat out. With a solid arsenal at Météo France and in permanent receipt of the boat’s position, he is defining some great lines. For my part, I send him observation from the ‘front’ and together we refine a strategy.
In the equatorial stickiness, the boat is very gradually slipping southwards. The wind is light, the sea smooth and the storms are lighting up Borneo in silence; the latter being invisible but almost palpable 25 miles downwind of us. The Indonesian fishing boats are circulating along the horizon and require particular attention at times. With eyes on the dials, the helmsmen take it in turns. Concentrated, each of them are hoping in turn to finally catch up with the SE’ly tradewinds which are synonymous with the way out. The hours pass by and the clouds too. The night is dying and we’re still wading towards the equator. Everyone is awaiting ‘Mister Doldrums’, in his immense generosity, to finally let a few snatches of tradewind pass our way... Patience.
Dominic Vittet
18/08/2008 - 12:51 - Bad and good
No, decidedly Gitana 13 doesn’t like it! She detests these long days beating against 20 - 27 knot winds and in particular this short, little chop, which the two floats never quite manage to position themselves on at the same time. Unrestrainedly twisting the platform, the waves restrict the carbon. The fibre rebels as it seldom enjoys these ‘elastic games’, and responds by springing back violently, which makes life on board pretty unbearable: sleeping becomes an impossibility and consists of hanging onto the bunk with both hands. Eating is an extremely perilous exercise too and despite the numerous precautions, only part of the water from the kettle ends up in each cup. Each crew member on watch is given a real dowsing and the hood becomes a highly sought after refuge.
At the keyboard, it’s like being a child of two who is learning to eat… In short these headwinds are transforming our descent towards the equator into a long, laborious exercise and it has already added a few extra days to our record. We knew this would be the case when we set off, but we’re just hoping that this will be the difficult part of the course and that the Indian and Atlantic Oceans will dish up their customary big surfs.
As regards food, the crew has got back into their ‘good’ habits. No fried food: it’ll be Chinese noodles and freeze-dried food all the way to the finish now. Fortunately, together with Ronan Le Goff, we got a good supply of fruit prior to our departure: bananas, apples, watermelons, mangos, oranges, lemons and grapefruit will be our only fresh food during this long spell of ‘stomach punishment’. We’ll have to make sure that everything’s consumed in a certain order and at a certain time...
Tomorrow we’re going to reach the waters of the island of Natuna, midway between Borneo and Singapore.
Dominic Vittet
17/08/2008 - 16:11 - Beating in the monsoon
In order to escape the scorching China Sea, and make our way out into the Indian Ocean in favourable winds in a few days time, we’re going to have to battle against the headwinds, which are characteristic of this region at this time of year. In reality, the SE’ly tradewinds which blow this side in the southern hemisphere, are crossing the equator and spilling over into those on the north side as they bend to the south-west: it’s the monsoon phenomenon. There is nothing violent for the time being; 13 to 20 knots maximum, and with all the sail aloft Gitana 13 is able to relieve its windward float by thrusting its fine bows into the short little chop at an average speed of 15 knots. It mustn’t get any fresher than this! In truth, our proud 33 metre catamaran, loathes this point of sail… As soon as the wind exceeds 20 knots and the seas get bigger, it begins to slam, shake and lash out, and all that makes life on board a real ordeal.
We’re closing on the coast of Vietnam. Léo got out some very light foulie tops yesterday which may well prove useful to us very soon as some huge stormy masses are heading up from the equator and are likely to punctuate the next watches with squalls and gusts. There are doubtless a few manœuvres in view.
The local gannets, which have orange feet here, swallow the flying fish as they take off in a bid to escape Gitana 13’s hulls.
Dominic Vittet, 200 km to the east of the Vietnamese coast
16/08/2008 - 11:15 - The ‘agonies’ of the China Sea
The China Sea is showing its summer face: a light S’ly breeze, direct from the equator, with general humidity and a stifling heat from mid-morning to early evening. We’re having to put in some southward tacks to close further on the equator in this oven of hot water which is already bordering on 30°C.
From 1100 hours the helmsmen – who are in the worst possible position in these circumstances – take it in turns more often. The sun is really beginning to take its toll and they’re having to think of a hundred and one ways of avoiding being hit by the local weather phenomena: gloves, long-sleeved t-shirts and hats of all kinds. You could almost believe you were in an ‘equatorial adventurer’ style competition; it’s worth the trip!
With each manœuvre physical movement costs a few litres of water. The seats in the shade, like the entrance to the cockpit or under the boom, are highly sought after. This is also the case for the bunks which are barely habitable, even with all the hatches open.
During the night, the conditions are ideal but another trap awaits us under the cover of darkness. As soon as the water becomes more shallow, the sea is lit up by hundreds of fishermen’s lights which are carried off into space, impossible to separate. Navigation lights, radar, binoculars, bearing compass… those on watch are using all their safety gear. This takes up a vast part of the night as the boat is forced to slalom through the mass of drifting nets. We wonder what the fish do to survive... aboard we refer to it as ‘the Great Wall of China’.
It’ll take a few more days of cooking and patience before we catch up with the E’ly tradewinds which blow copiously across the north of the Indian Ocean as far as the waters of the Java Sea; almost a week to round to the south of Borneo whose landscape is such that it prevents the establishing of an overly powerful tradewind. In October, with the powerful NE’ly flow which sweeps the land, we would have been propelled towards Java in 3 days!
Dominic Vittet
14/08/2008 - 20:55 - Hong Kong …
What child hasn’t dreamt of Hong Kong? Already, with a name like no other, this town was destined for a special fate. The English call it “the fragrant city” as spices fill the air...
Today it is a financial hub and the cargo ships have replaced the thousands of wooden sampans which once covered the waters of the port...
And so we’re off! The start line, positioned outside the city to the south of the eastern channel, was crossed at 1555 local time amidst an atmosphere of general happiness. With it came an end to the packed streets and the stifling air as we head out into fresh breeze. We’re turning our back on this mushrooming city whose furiously vertical habitat, coloured by hundreds and hundreds of towers standing at least 50 floors high, is rapidly disappearing over our horizon. The last skyscrapers are evaporating behind a whole bunch of lush green Chinese islands which surround the former British trading post. Under blazing sunshine, freshened by 15 to 18 knots of SW’ly breeze, we head due south towards our fate, across the infamous China Sea. 1,000 kilometres to our SW lies Vietnam and, to our SE, the Philippines. A little further to the right, Malaysia and Singapore, and to our left the island of Borneo, sliced in half by the equator. Next, due south in the Java Sea, lies our first goal, which we’re set to reach in a week’s time.
Soon these beautiful pages in the atlas will become a reality!
Dominic Vittet
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