Friday, January 28, 2005
Have A Wetass Weekend...
I Have Seen The Future....
I've said it before and I'll say it again. The best sailing on television isn't on television. It's on your computer, in the form of Swedish Match Tour TV. They have just added the 2004 Nippon Cup and a 2004 highlight program, so tune--or click--in. Both are well worth watching (try the Full Screen button), with great camerawork and announcers who don't dumb it all down. And there's plenty of tight action with miked-up skippers cussing at each other, and trying to spin the umpires. The hell with the networks. I hope these guys steal their lunch...
"Damn you, Gilmour! I know the producers love the crunch of gelcoat, but..."
"Damn you, Gilmour! I know the producers love the crunch of gelcoat, but..."
Posted by Tim Zimmermann @ 7:55 AM 
Department Of Doppelgangers...
It's nice to go through life thinking you are special, unique, unmatched and unparalleled. But you never know. For example: I recently received an e-mail from a gentleman who also goes by the name Tim Zim. He is also 43. He is also into boats. He also has a blog. Okay, he's British, and he's not married to a Brazilian doctor. Plus, he's a lot more crazy, I mean ambitious, than I am. Because his blog is all about his spontaneous purchase (he had never skippered his own boat before), and restoration of a clapped out, rusting, steel fishing trawler that was built in 1963. And it's a great read. Part technical (with lots of pictures and details of the systems he is working on), part Zen (yes, restoring a fishing trawler can lead to new friends, new adventures and a new take on life), and part romance (he meets the love of his life as a result of this Quixotic project). So here's to all the blogging TimZim's out there. If I come across any others we're going to start a union and meet annually in Florida...
MFV Lady Jane: "Isn't she a beaut? Just wait 'til I get the hot tub installed..."
MFV Lady Jane: "Isn't she a beaut? Just wait 'til I get the hot tub installed..."
Posted by Tim Zimmermann @ 7:21 AM
Ellen Gets North...
Little Big Mac returned to the Northern Hemisphere last night, setting yet another solo record: Ushant to the Equator, 60 days, 13.5 hours. That's 1 day, 11 hours faster than Mon. Joyon, so there's a lot of relief onboard B&Q. And, to top it off, Ellen called in this morning (to her HQ, not TWC) to say she thinks, hopes, and prays she's through the Doldrums early. Why? Well, she's got winds of 14-16 knots from the northeast. If it holds, that will be a humungous boost to her record prospects, but she'd better hold her breath and cross her fingers because the Doldrums sometimes seem to disappear, only to reappear again (which is a cruel, cruel joke from Neptune, if you think about it). The prognosis for the coming days is: sail on the wind, and pray that the pounding doesn't break something important. You can read all about it in the latest daily report. And you can watch this short clip (Quicktime only; Hey, it's not my fault! Forward all complaints to Offshore Challenges) of B&Q sailing along on a calm, moonlit sea to see that even in frustration there is beauty.
The race to the finish is going to be tight and tense. Ellen has just over 3,000 miles to go, a very complex North Atlantic weather picture, and a competitor (Joyon) who had just one or two slow days on this part of the course, and put up some big 400 mile days as he approached the line. Stay tuned...
"Damn, this whiskey tastes good..."
The race to the finish is going to be tight and tense. Ellen has just over 3,000 miles to go, a very complex North Atlantic weather picture, and a competitor (Joyon) who had just one or two slow days on this part of the course, and put up some big 400 mile days as he approached the line. Stay tuned...
"Damn, this whiskey tastes good..."
Posted by Tim Zimmermann @ 6:37 AM
Thursday, January 27, 2005
More Winter Wetassing...
This time, slightly more conventional: DN iceboating. The DN World Championships just slithered to a close on the frigid pack of Lake Mendota, Wisconsin. Check out the website for lots of cool photos and race reports. And here is some great video of what a start looks like (click here), and what DN iceboats look like at speed (click here). For anyone who wants to sail really, really fast (and enjoy the thrill of horrendous crash potential, on top of the possibility of a frigid dunking) an iceboat has to be the cheapest, easiet way to go...
Pre-Start Maneuvers: "This Porta-Potty is damn convenient. But lousy aim is slowly melting the ice underneath..."
Pre-Start Maneuvers: "This Porta-Potty is damn convenient. But lousy aim is slowly melting the ice underneath..."
Posted by Tim Zimmermann @ 1:08 PM
Incoming....!
If you happen to keep your sailboat at Michigan City harbor, Indiana, you'll be guaranteed lots of excitement...even before you go racing or sailing on Lake Michigan. That's because when conditions are just right, you get this:
"Our Father, Who art in heaven..."
"Say, Bob, I think I understand both your boat name and all the velcro beer holders now..."
"Morrow, you bast*rd! When you said we'd be surfing today, I thought you meant WITH the waves..."
"Our Father, Who art in heaven..."
"Say, Bob, I think I understand both your boat name and all the velcro beer holders now..."
"Morrow, you bast*rd! When you said we'd be surfing today, I thought you meant WITH the waves..."
Posted by Tim Zimmermann @ 11:34 AM
Good Lawdy, Miss Maudy....
Solo French rower Maud Fontenoy is just two weeks into her trans-Pacific blister-fest, I mean oceanic row, from Peru to French Polynesia (which is Tahiti to most of the world; they just can't give it up, can they?). She's covered 591 miles, which is a decent 42 miles per day. But she's got, gulp, 3,729 to go, which likely means at least another 100 days at sea. Luckily, she seems to have a full supply of magic mushrooms to help her cope, at least that's what I conclude from this recent dispatch (I mean, I know I only talked this way when I was shrooming...):
"I rowed late; the sun went down as if looking for the freshness of the ocean.
The heat is so important that you think all the elements are boiling. The sea is bubbles, clouds of condensation appear at the horizon, The light is so bright that it blinds me.
The sky is mantling bit by bit, my eyes adapt slowly and I can see the first colors of the sunset. The clouds around the sun becomes like a tinged with pink; I can see a flower. Standing in my cockpit, I’m dreaming….
And slowly, quietly the night comes and my favourite lighthouse appear: it’s full moon and this quiet light calms my anguish. I can’t take my eyes away from it. The sea takes mysterious tincts. I hear the waves purruing near OCÉOR, but I already think to something else….how, after all that, is it possible to have doubts on what made me come here !
Don’t forget to look up."
Very freaky, Mme. Maud. Unfortunately the supply apparently is not sufficient to 'shroom every day (even if that were possible). Because here is the next dispatch she sent in:
"Storm / breaking waves / sky with thick clouds.
The daylight has disappeared. A clamy heat makes breathing difficult.
I'm tired.
Hope that it will be more quiet soon."
You can just feel her head throbbing. So let's call it hangover Haiku. All foolin' aside, it's worth reading through Maud's dispatches because they are endearing, revealing, and full of interesting detail about fishing, the pleasures of a clean T-shirt, and the battle against salt...
How To Survive 150 Days Alone On A Rowboat: "If yesterday was mushrooms, today must be spliff-day. And I know my stash is in here somewhere..."
"I rowed late; the sun went down as if looking for the freshness of the ocean.
The heat is so important that you think all the elements are boiling. The sea is bubbles, clouds of condensation appear at the horizon, The light is so bright that it blinds me.
The sky is mantling bit by bit, my eyes adapt slowly and I can see the first colors of the sunset. The clouds around the sun becomes like a tinged with pink; I can see a flower. Standing in my cockpit, I’m dreaming….
And slowly, quietly the night comes and my favourite lighthouse appear: it’s full moon and this quiet light calms my anguish. I can’t take my eyes away from it. The sea takes mysterious tincts. I hear the waves purruing near OCÉOR, but I already think to something else….how, after all that, is it possible to have doubts on what made me come here !
Don’t forget to look up."
Very freaky, Mme. Maud. Unfortunately the supply apparently is not sufficient to 'shroom every day (even if that were possible). Because here is the next dispatch she sent in:
"Storm / breaking waves / sky with thick clouds.
The daylight has disappeared. A clamy heat makes breathing difficult.
I'm tired.
Hope that it will be more quiet soon."
You can just feel her head throbbing. So let's call it hangover Haiku. All foolin' aside, it's worth reading through Maud's dispatches because they are endearing, revealing, and full of interesting detail about fishing, the pleasures of a clean T-shirt, and the battle against salt...
How To Survive 150 Days Alone On A Rowboat: "If yesterday was mushrooms, today must be spliff-day. And I know my stash is in here somewhere..."
Posted by Tim Zimmermann @ 11:14 AM
Wednesday, January 26, 2005
Wetass Video Of The Week....
It's Oscar time, and TWC's nominee for Best BASE Jump Video, Most Soothing Soundtrack, and Most Beautiful Location comes from (he's on a roll this week) Uncle Bob Steele. It's shot in Norway and is the first BASE jump vid that makes me think: "Hmm, maybe I'd like to do that..." Except there's one problem. Is it just me, or do some of these jumpers have to maneuver mid-air to avoid becoming Norse ketchup on some of the outcroppings? Check it out for yourself...
"This is so damn beautiful, I hope I don't forget to pop my chute..."
"This is so damn beautiful, I hope I don't forget to pop my chute..."
Posted by Tim Zimmermann @ 8:09 AM
Annals Of Stoicism: Winter Wetassing II...
Okay, here we go. The weird winter sports are starting to trickle in to TWC Central. Here's a great tip from reader Thomas Robert. He writes:
"Here is a true winter wetass competition sport: ice canoe
It all takes place on the great St-Lawrence River, in the region of Quebec City (French wetassing!!). There are 5 teammates per canoe: 4 rowers, and a helmsman. The concept is simple: when you're on the water, you row, and when you get on the ice, you jump out of your canoe and start pushing through. The blocks of ice can stream down the river to a speed of up to 4-5 kt, depending on the tide, creating advantageous openings, or closing on promising paths...strategy, anticipation and physical fitness are key.
The competition is at the highest level, with over 40 teams (including 10 women-only teams) competing this year. From almost-professionnal crews, using carbon-fiber canoes, to amateurs, using old heavy fiberglass canoes."
Soounds like fun, right? Thomas didn't get into the apres-canoe, but I'm sure it involves something hot and highly alcoholic (at least I hope it does). Check out the website if you are ready to sign up. And just in case you are on the fence, here's what it looks like...
"Alright, alright, I'll get out and push..."
"Shouldn't we throw a lemming or something in first, to check for killer whales...?"
"Oh merde! Last year that tug maniac sunk four of us, and here he comes again..."
"Here is a true winter wetass competition sport: ice canoe
It all takes place on the great St-Lawrence River, in the region of Quebec City (French wetassing!!). There are 5 teammates per canoe: 4 rowers, and a helmsman. The concept is simple: when you're on the water, you row, and when you get on the ice, you jump out of your canoe and start pushing through. The blocks of ice can stream down the river to a speed of up to 4-5 kt, depending on the tide, creating advantageous openings, or closing on promising paths...strategy, anticipation and physical fitness are key.
The competition is at the highest level, with over 40 teams (including 10 women-only teams) competing this year. From almost-professionnal crews, using carbon-fiber canoes, to amateurs, using old heavy fiberglass canoes."
Soounds like fun, right? Thomas didn't get into the apres-canoe, but I'm sure it involves something hot and highly alcoholic (at least I hope it does). Check out the website if you are ready to sign up. And just in case you are on the fence, here's what it looks like...
"Alright, alright, I'll get out and push..."
"Shouldn't we throw a lemming or something in first, to check for killer whales...?"
"Oh merde! Last year that tug maniac sunk four of us, and here he comes again..."
Posted by Tim Zimmermann @ 7:36 AM
Cats And Tris, Flying Along...
This is getting ridiculous. Bruno Peyron and Orange II are only 2 days into their non-stop record run and they are already 1200 miles down the track. If they keep this up they'll smash the Ushant-Equator record of 6 days, 11 hours by about a million hours. During the first day the big cat was cruising along between 28 and 35 knots all the time. It's hard to even imagine what that must feel like. Since then, she's slowed down to ONLY 20-25 knots. Believe it or not, I bet the crew feels like they are just crawling along at that speed, which tells you how quickly you get used to--and start to expect--ridiculous speeds in these big multihulls. Anyhow, they're kicking Cheyenne's butt for the moment, and you can check out the comparative courses, as well as get all Orange II's nav data on this handy dandy page (I may find it annoying that I can't rip photos from Orange II's site, but I have to admit that it's chock full of great info...).
They're not exactly on a collision course, but about 3000 miles south Ellen MacArthur is heading north for a combined closing speed of about 50 knots. The southeast trades have finally kicked in for Bic Mac, and they are stronger than forecast which has put her back ahead of Francis Joyon by a meager 68 miles. Forecasting technology these days is incredible but you never know exactly what you are going to have for wind unless you are actually there. Ellen will need a little more of that because the forecast ahead still isn't so great, and Joyon had a very fast passage of the Equator and virtually non-existent Doldrums. Here's Ellen's latest take:
"I think I am dealing with it okay, trying to be philosophical and having some sleep really does help on that front. But it is just the unknown - I am just so nervous about what's going to break, what's going to go wrong, are we going to get through the Doldrums, what are we going to be dealt in the northern hemisphere, is it going to be an 80 knot storm that Britain has been hit by so many times before, or are we going to run into a high pressure - we just don't know what's going to happen. There are so many unknowns and we are getting closer to the finish - its literally just a case of 14 days and then its all over whether I've broken the record or not. I've just got to do the best I can in that time and I feel pretty nervous about that.
I just want to feel like we're going home and, right now, we're still three days away from the Equator. To take four days longer than Joyon in the South Atlantic is just terrible. I keep telling myself it's not over, we only need to break the record by a second, you know, we've just got to hang in there and do the best we can with the weather we've got. Hopefully, if we don't hit too many hurdles, we're still in with a chance...
I've put everything in - my heart, my soul, my flesh, my blood, just everything. I've never pushed this hard, I've never driven myself so hard, I've never got so close to the edge for so long - never, ever. And it's not through choice, its just through pushing so hard and the changeable conditions and the demands of a boat like this. It's been a real rollercoaster - I really had to grunt up, and it's not over yet, we're not there yet. When we get north of the Doldrums, I'll start to feel happier, I think. It will start to get cooler and we should have some relative concentrated north-east Trade Winds, even if they are not that strong, it should be relatively fast sailing and if we can have that and get some miles in to the finish... We've just got to do the best we can."
I guess she'd better break the record, because it's hard to imagine going through this again...
B&Q Struggles In The South Atlantic: "Pretend I'm on holiday, pretend I'm on holiday..."
(Photo: Royal Navy)
They're not exactly on a collision course, but about 3000 miles south Ellen MacArthur is heading north for a combined closing speed of about 50 knots. The southeast trades have finally kicked in for Bic Mac, and they are stronger than forecast which has put her back ahead of Francis Joyon by a meager 68 miles. Forecasting technology these days is incredible but you never know exactly what you are going to have for wind unless you are actually there. Ellen will need a little more of that because the forecast ahead still isn't so great, and Joyon had a very fast passage of the Equator and virtually non-existent Doldrums. Here's Ellen's latest take:
"I think I am dealing with it okay, trying to be philosophical and having some sleep really does help on that front. But it is just the unknown - I am just so nervous about what's going to break, what's going to go wrong, are we going to get through the Doldrums, what are we going to be dealt in the northern hemisphere, is it going to be an 80 knot storm that Britain has been hit by so many times before, or are we going to run into a high pressure - we just don't know what's going to happen. There are so many unknowns and we are getting closer to the finish - its literally just a case of 14 days and then its all over whether I've broken the record or not. I've just got to do the best I can in that time and I feel pretty nervous about that.
I just want to feel like we're going home and, right now, we're still three days away from the Equator. To take four days longer than Joyon in the South Atlantic is just terrible. I keep telling myself it's not over, we only need to break the record by a second, you know, we've just got to hang in there and do the best we can with the weather we've got. Hopefully, if we don't hit too many hurdles, we're still in with a chance...
I've put everything in - my heart, my soul, my flesh, my blood, just everything. I've never pushed this hard, I've never driven myself so hard, I've never got so close to the edge for so long - never, ever. And it's not through choice, its just through pushing so hard and the changeable conditions and the demands of a boat like this. It's been a real rollercoaster - I really had to grunt up, and it's not over yet, we're not there yet. When we get north of the Doldrums, I'll start to feel happier, I think. It will start to get cooler and we should have some relative concentrated north-east Trade Winds, even if they are not that strong, it should be relatively fast sailing and if we can have that and get some miles in to the finish... We've just got to do the best we can."
I guess she'd better break the record, because it's hard to imagine going through this again...
B&Q Struggles In The South Atlantic: "Pretend I'm on holiday, pretend I'm on holiday..."
(Photo: Royal Navy)
Posted by Tim Zimmermann @ 7:03 AM
Tuesday, January 25, 2005
Skandia Donates Her Keel To Neptune....:
Pity poor Nick Moloney. He survives the battle for sponsroship. He survives the Southern Ocean. He survives a brutal collision with an Unidentified Floating Object (UFO). He survives a variety of mechanical and charging problems. And just as he is approaching the downhill stretch to the finish of the Vendee Globe...Skandia's keel falls off (Okay, maybe he didn't survive that collision with the UFO). Here are the sordid details:
"The Open 60 Skandia overnight suffered a major technical failure to the keel, which has led to the keel breaking away from the boat, approximately 30cm below the hull. The boat is still upright, with no sails up, and water ballast tanks full to keep the maximum amount of stability possible.
Skandia skipper, Nick Moloney, contacted his shore team at 0500 GMT this morning [25.1.05] to report that he had a problem but it was not until twilight, three hours later, that he was able to fully assess the damage. In the intervening period Moloney stabilised the boat as much as possible by reducing sail and filling the yacht's central water ballast tanks, with a total of over 5 tons of water. At just after 0830 GMT, the keel completely broke away.
Skandia's position is approximately 120 miles south of Rio de Janeiro. The wind is around 22-25 knots from the north with a 1 to 1.5 metre swell. The priority for his shore team is to secure the safety of the skipper and they are working on getting an escort boat to Skandia as soon as possible. Nick is unharmed, is safe on board Skandia and dealing with the situation as best he can. "I can't believe this, I just can't believe it, things were just starting to look better for me and I was really getting locked in to the thought of the finish in Les Sables," said Nick. His race is over but all thoughts of that are secondary to securing his safety and that of the boat.
Moloney was on day 80 of the Vendée Globe with under 5,000 miles left to go on the solo round the world course. It was his first participation in the race and it dramatically ends his long-held dream to complete 3 big round the world sailing goals - of crewed round the world [1997-98 Whitbread on board Toshiba], fastest non-stop round the world [2002 Jules Verne Trophy on board Orange] and, finally, his ultimate goal of solo, non-stop around the world which has now cruely come to an end."
"Major technical failure." Is that what they call it now when the keel falls off? Nick is now under engine power, headed toward Rio and a tow vessel. He's had a chance to talk with his shore team via sat phone, and here is his description of the failure:
"Well I’ve been struggling to go round this weather system and as I started to see the end of the tunnel, I made my last tack to clear the coast north of Rio, and I tacked about 3 o’clock in the morning. About an hour later I just finished tidying up and sorting everything out. I sat down at the chart table and I started to get some sleep and I heard a bang, it sounded like plastic breaking and I wasn’t terribly concerned and I started trying to drift off to sleep and the boat just started heeling over more and more and as then the boat speed dropped to 4 knots. I went out on deck and I was saying to myself I think we’re going to tip over. I ran down below because I just thought the keel had released because I’ve had a problem with my keel dump switch and I tried to sort it out yesterday and I thought well maybe I’ve pulled out the wrong wire or something and the keel’s dumped to leeward. I went down there and the keel head was the right way and I was looking and I’m thinking, am I tired? Am I looking at this situation clearly or what? What’s going on? And then I tried to de-power and keep sailing and the boat was on it’s ear, completely on it’s ear. I just ran to the windward rail with a torch and I’m trying to look over the side to see the bulb, there were lots of waves breaking over the boat because there was about 25 knots of wind at this stage and quite big waves. I couldn’t see the keel and then I laid on the deck and hung right over the hull and I could see the bulb on the centreline of the boat and I thought oh this is wrong, because it’s gotta be out to the other side. So I went down below and de-powered a bit more, and went down and rang Mark [Turner, Project Director OC] and said I think I’ve broken the keel and we were sort of both talking about it and we both came to the conclusion that’s it couldn't be possible - and that I must have a big net or something. I couldn’t get the boat speed over 6 knots and the boat was just tipping over, so we got Neil Graham [Technical Director, OC] on the line and Neil said if you are losing your stability there’s a problem with the keel, so get the sails off and just hang out until daylight to have a look. It wasn’t until daylight that I could actually see the fin. I chucked my goggles on and I hung out of the escape hatch in the stern and I looked under the hull and I could see the keel was vertical and swinging, and I obviously knew that wasn’t very good. So I ran back inside and I got the endoscope which is a small 90 degree sight tube and I saw the top, looked like the top foot of the keel was together and then the rest of it was snapped off and hanging down so the top of the fin was 45 degrees which it shouldn’t be with the rams pushing the head over and then the keel’s hanging vertically and swinging. I rang Mark and said the keels broken and it’s gonna come off and I really, really was sure it was gonna come off, so I got the rest of the sails down and filled the ballast tanks to try and stabilise the boat. Then it was just a terrible thing to have to do…to break the seal on the engine and engage the engine and that was it for me – the race was over. Then anyway I couldn’t motor upwind [towards Rio] as the engine kept overheating and we went downwind and we tried dropping the keel on to the centre line, and then soon after it snapped off completely."
Totally brutal. Grant Dalton, who has been around the world more than most, always says that that part of the South Atlantic is the place he fears most in a round the world race. Boats are coming out of the Southern Ocean, fatigued and battered, and then they hit this zone, which often throws crazy weather and brutal head seas at them. The result: rigs come down...and keels fall off. Nick wasn't the first to have his boat fall apart here. And he won't be the last...
Bummer: "Uh-oh. We're suddenly sitting very high in the water..."
"The Open 60 Skandia overnight suffered a major technical failure to the keel, which has led to the keel breaking away from the boat, approximately 30cm below the hull. The boat is still upright, with no sails up, and water ballast tanks full to keep the maximum amount of stability possible.
Skandia skipper, Nick Moloney, contacted his shore team at 0500 GMT this morning [25.1.05] to report that he had a problem but it was not until twilight, three hours later, that he was able to fully assess the damage. In the intervening period Moloney stabilised the boat as much as possible by reducing sail and filling the yacht's central water ballast tanks, with a total of over 5 tons of water. At just after 0830 GMT, the keel completely broke away.
Skandia's position is approximately 120 miles south of Rio de Janeiro. The wind is around 22-25 knots from the north with a 1 to 1.5 metre swell. The priority for his shore team is to secure the safety of the skipper and they are working on getting an escort boat to Skandia as soon as possible. Nick is unharmed, is safe on board Skandia and dealing with the situation as best he can. "I can't believe this, I just can't believe it, things were just starting to look better for me and I was really getting locked in to the thought of the finish in Les Sables," said Nick. His race is over but all thoughts of that are secondary to securing his safety and that of the boat.
Moloney was on day 80 of the Vendée Globe with under 5,000 miles left to go on the solo round the world course. It was his first participation in the race and it dramatically ends his long-held dream to complete 3 big round the world sailing goals - of crewed round the world [1997-98 Whitbread on board Toshiba], fastest non-stop round the world [2002 Jules Verne Trophy on board Orange] and, finally, his ultimate goal of solo, non-stop around the world which has now cruely come to an end."
"Major technical failure." Is that what they call it now when the keel falls off? Nick is now under engine power, headed toward Rio and a tow vessel. He's had a chance to talk with his shore team via sat phone, and here is his description of the failure:
"Well I’ve been struggling to go round this weather system and as I started to see the end of the tunnel, I made my last tack to clear the coast north of Rio, and I tacked about 3 o’clock in the morning. About an hour later I just finished tidying up and sorting everything out. I sat down at the chart table and I started to get some sleep and I heard a bang, it sounded like plastic breaking and I wasn’t terribly concerned and I started trying to drift off to sleep and the boat just started heeling over more and more and as then the boat speed dropped to 4 knots. I went out on deck and I was saying to myself I think we’re going to tip over. I ran down below because I just thought the keel had released because I’ve had a problem with my keel dump switch and I tried to sort it out yesterday and I thought well maybe I’ve pulled out the wrong wire or something and the keel’s dumped to leeward. I went down there and the keel head was the right way and I was looking and I’m thinking, am I tired? Am I looking at this situation clearly or what? What’s going on? And then I tried to de-power and keep sailing and the boat was on it’s ear, completely on it’s ear. I just ran to the windward rail with a torch and I’m trying to look over the side to see the bulb, there were lots of waves breaking over the boat because there was about 25 knots of wind at this stage and quite big waves. I couldn’t see the keel and then I laid on the deck and hung right over the hull and I could see the bulb on the centreline of the boat and I thought oh this is wrong, because it’s gotta be out to the other side. So I went down below and de-powered a bit more, and went down and rang Mark [Turner, Project Director OC] and said I think I’ve broken the keel and we were sort of both talking about it and we both came to the conclusion that’s it couldn't be possible - and that I must have a big net or something. I couldn’t get the boat speed over 6 knots and the boat was just tipping over, so we got Neil Graham [Technical Director, OC] on the line and Neil said if you are losing your stability there’s a problem with the keel, so get the sails off and just hang out until daylight to have a look. It wasn’t until daylight that I could actually see the fin. I chucked my goggles on and I hung out of the escape hatch in the stern and I looked under the hull and I could see the keel was vertical and swinging, and I obviously knew that wasn’t very good. So I ran back inside and I got the endoscope which is a small 90 degree sight tube and I saw the top, looked like the top foot of the keel was together and then the rest of it was snapped off and hanging down so the top of the fin was 45 degrees which it shouldn’t be with the rams pushing the head over and then the keel’s hanging vertically and swinging. I rang Mark and said the keels broken and it’s gonna come off and I really, really was sure it was gonna come off, so I got the rest of the sails down and filled the ballast tanks to try and stabilise the boat. Then it was just a terrible thing to have to do…to break the seal on the engine and engage the engine and that was it for me – the race was over. Then anyway I couldn’t motor upwind [towards Rio] as the engine kept overheating and we went downwind and we tried dropping the keel on to the centre line, and then soon after it snapped off completely."
Totally brutal. Grant Dalton, who has been around the world more than most, always says that that part of the South Atlantic is the place he fears most in a round the world race. Boats are coming out of the Southern Ocean, fatigued and battered, and then they hit this zone, which often throws crazy weather and brutal head seas at them. The result: rigs come down...and keels fall off. Nick wasn't the first to have his boat fall apart here. And he won't be the last...
Bummer: "Uh-oh. We're suddenly sitting very high in the water..."
Posted by Tim Zimmermann @ 8:19 PM
Annals Of Stoicism: Winter Wetassing....
All hail the wackos who insist on surfing and sailing even when the conditions are positively Siberian. While the rest of the world waits wimpily for the warm weather of spring and summer, they just throw on extra layers and hit the water. Or ice. Or whatever. So here is my ongoing homage to the Hardass Wetasses. Up first is a couple of guys I came across in a Sailing Anarchy forum. They wanted to go cat sailing, so they went cat sailing (after they chipped away the ice, of course). Here are some pictures of their two hour spin (you can find the full set here):
"Damn, what a fine day for a sail..."
"Cr*p! An icicle just went down my neck..."
"What? You thought I would look normal...?"
"Hmm, this is probably what the Titanic sidedecks looked like..."
"Boy, sheet ice really locks in the sail shape..."
Not shivering yet? Then check out their video...
And that's not all. Windsurfers are just as stupid, I mean gung-ho. And thanks to TWC reader Uncle Bob (aka Bob Steele) we've got it on tape. Just check out the video of this determined Dude as he makes like Shackleton trying to get across the brash ice so he can hop on his board...
"I can't believe all the sailors we're seeing these days..."
"Damn, what a fine day for a sail..."
"Cr*p! An icicle just went down my neck..."
"What? You thought I would look normal...?"
"Hmm, this is probably what the Titanic sidedecks looked like..."
"Boy, sheet ice really locks in the sail shape..."
Not shivering yet? Then check out their video...
And that's not all. Windsurfers are just as stupid, I mean gung-ho. And thanks to TWC reader Uncle Bob (aka Bob Steele) we've got it on tape. Just check out the video of this determined Dude as he makes like Shackleton trying to get across the brash ice so he can hop on his board...
"I can't believe all the sailors we're seeing these days..."
Posted by Tim Zimmermann @ 6:12 PM
Monday, January 24, 2005
Multi Vs. Mono: Owned...
For those of you who have always believed that "cruising multihull" is an oxymoron; for those of you who believe that living large and sailing very, very fast are incompatible; for those of you who insist that having a couple of tons of lead under your feet is the only way to go to sea: I have one simple request. Watch this video (Quicktime only; if you don't have it get it here for free). What is it? Well, it's a massive cruising cat called a Gunboat 62 (designed by Gino Morrelli and Pete Melvin, who also ran up a little number called "Cheyenne") absolutely running over an 80-foot Reichel/Pugh maxi monohull (don't know which one). Like it? Go charter it. You can only imagine how hard the Gunboat crew were laughing (and how hard the maxi crew were swearing) as the video boat appeared to add insult to injury. What's the soundtrack, you ask? Very appropriately, it's "Wipeout"...
"Hey, Biff, wanna run those small fry down, too?..."Nah, let's give it a rest, Rodney. I'm still chuckling about that sled, plus I'm waiting for Mari Cha to come along..."
"Hey, Biff, wanna run those small fry down, too?..."Nah, let's give it a rest, Rodney. I'm still chuckling about that sled, plus I'm waiting for Mari Cha to come along..."
Posted by Tim Zimmermann @ 10:01 AM
Ellen, Oh Ellen...
If you ever wanted proof that ocean racing can be a cruel, cruel sport, just consider that Ellen MacArthur has finally fallen behind Francis Joyon after leading for almost 43 days, a lead which stood at more than four days when she rounded Cape Horn. Latest report here. All along MacArthur and her shore team had been looking forward to the South Atlantic, (almost but not quite) gloating over the slow passage Joyon had from Cape Horn to the Equator and figuring Ellen would be able to run up the score on this piece of ocean. Never in a million years did they dream she'd be more than four days slower, the victim of light winds, capricious weather systems and the black humor of the weather gods. Ellen, as is her nature, is hanging extremely tough, and will fight this thing all the way until the end, but the weather ahead so far doesn't seem to offer any miracles and Joyon put up some pretty big runs over this period. Here's MacArthur:
"I am trying to be positive - you know it's been exceptionally difficult, it feels like everything has been against us in the Southern Hemisphere and we've not only lost out on Francis but lost four days in a period where we should have gained theoretically because he was very slow in this area. So things have been terrible, quite frankly, and trying to come to terms with that and come to terms with the fact that the weather for the next week is pretty bad as well, then that is pretty hard to deal with. But what can we do? We can only do our best and we can't do any more than that...
The record is definitely within our sights - I'm not going to let go of that until the last second-hand ticks over, that's for sure. We've been working on this project for two years, I've now been at sea for over 50 days and now is not the time that I am going to throw my hands up in the air and give up, no way. We're level with Francis - we're not three days or five days behind him and we still have a chance. But we only have a chance if the weather is kind to us - the next three days are going to be terrible, we won't cross the Equator until the 28th and until then we are going to be in pretty light conditions. Once we cross the Equator, we have to see if we get stuck in the Doldrums or not, and that's another question mark. We could get stuck there for 24 hours and, if that's the case, obviously we're in even more trouble. A lot of things can come into play and we've still got a very, very long way to sail..."
Brave words. But you can just feel it slipping away, can't you...
"I always seem to get better wind if I strip down, soooo...."
"I am trying to be positive - you know it's been exceptionally difficult, it feels like everything has been against us in the Southern Hemisphere and we've not only lost out on Francis but lost four days in a period where we should have gained theoretically because he was very slow in this area. So things have been terrible, quite frankly, and trying to come to terms with that and come to terms with the fact that the weather for the next week is pretty bad as well, then that is pretty hard to deal with. But what can we do? We can only do our best and we can't do any more than that...
The record is definitely within our sights - I'm not going to let go of that until the last second-hand ticks over, that's for sure. We've been working on this project for two years, I've now been at sea for over 50 days and now is not the time that I am going to throw my hands up in the air and give up, no way. We're level with Francis - we're not three days or five days behind him and we still have a chance. But we only have a chance if the weather is kind to us - the next three days are going to be terrible, we won't cross the Equator until the 28th and until then we are going to be in pretty light conditions. Once we cross the Equator, we have to see if we get stuck in the Doldrums or not, and that's another question mark. We could get stuck there for 24 hours and, if that's the case, obviously we're in even more trouble. A lot of things can come into play and we've still got a very, very long way to sail..."
Brave words. But you can just feel it slipping away, can't you...
"I always seem to get better wind if I strip down, soooo...."
Posted by Tim Zimmermann @ 9:40 AM
Orange II Is Off....
Bruno Peyron and his boys (all thirteen of them) took off on their non-stop, round-the-world record attempt early this morning. They're gunning for Olivier De Kersuason's Jules Verne record of 63 days, 14 hours, and Steve Fossett's outright record of 58 days, 9.5 hours. Peyron wants the outright record bad (in fact, he's only taken food for 58 days). Orange II is probably the fastest oceangoing multihull on the planet, and owns the 24-hour record of 706 miles. But she hasn't done anything else of note, and Peyron was not at all happy when Fossett stiffed the Jules Verne committee during his record passage, separating the Jules Verne record from the outright record. Amazingly, Peyron and his weather team are looking all the way to the South Atlantic high, and saying that they chose to leave now in order to set up for a fast passage of this traditional weather trap two weeks into the voyage. If they get that one right, hats off!
You can follow along at Peyron's fancy-ass Flash site here. Plenty of good stuff--news, photos, crew bios--including a pretty good departure video over on the Video page which has some footage of Orange II going fast, very fast (one shot shows a very odd flip-up windscreen for the driver). Orange II has the horses to do this. The question is--and this is always the question--will she stay in one piece for a full lap...
"The Old Man must be serious. We'll be living on cigarettes by the time we hit the finish, and, even worse, there's absolutely no Espresso..."
You can follow along at Peyron's fancy-ass Flash site here. Plenty of good stuff--news, photos, crew bios--including a pretty good departure video over on the Video page which has some footage of Orange II going fast, very fast (one shot shows a very odd flip-up windscreen for the driver). Orange II has the horses to do this. The question is--and this is always the question--will she stay in one piece for a full lap...
"The Old Man must be serious. We'll be living on cigarettes by the time we hit the finish, and, even worse, there's absolutely no Espresso..."
Posted by Tim Zimmermann @ 9:14 AM
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