Weymouth Weekend
( Last Updated: 13-11-2007 )
It was late to bed followed by an early start on Friday morning. We had been up till the early hours doing last minute preparations on the boat in readiness for her media launch that morning. She transformed in front of our sleepy eyes from “a good looking boat” to simply “Stunning!” All logo’d up we set off with the boat in tow for the Weymouth and Portland National Sailing Academy, the venue for the 2012 Olympic Sailing events and our launch.
It was a fine morning which turned out to be a truly glorious day. We arrived to the whirring cameras of Weymouth College media students who had been lined up by Sue Handford of Chocolate Dog to make some documentaries as part of their degree. As we went about our general business of putting the boat in the water and cleaning her off, the rest of the media arrived, including film crews and reporters from the BBC and ITV and two freelance photographers.
The morning flew by with various posing for shots, interviews and rowing of the boat as the media followed in a RIB laid on kindly for their use by the Academy.
Around 2pm we were finally able to grab some food (none of us had eaten since lunchtime the previous day) and re-fill our tanks in preparation for our row from Weymouth, West bound… as to where, we weren’t sure at this stage.
After lunch and arriving back at the boat a fair amount of final preparations was still to be done. Little things like sorting out the foot plates, tightening riggers, adjusting the rudder (or bailing it out which I’ll explain later.) It was a race against the on-coming darkness and the tides. We asked ourselves if it got too late should we take the boat out of the water and trailer it literally just a short hop over onto the other side of Portland Head onto Chesil Beach or take the longer route out of Weymouth and row around Portland Head?
We ended up simply rowing straight out of Weymouth harbour. As the sun set, calmness fell on the waters surrounding us. We were treated to the spectacular sight of a pair of dolphins accompanying us out of the harbour which we all took as a thoroughly good omen! They stayed with the boat for a good ten minutes before heading off to find some food- I doubt our freeze dried rations would have been to their taste. Spurred on by this sight the boat topped 8 knots.
From an early stage the crew had agreed upon a 2 hour watch for our 24 hour row. With the first watch on being Ben, George and Guy, the second watch (only Mike and Simon, as Ian was held up in London with work) took over just as we cleared the Lighthouse on Portland Head. At this stage true darkness came. Steadily over the course of the next 4 hours we rowed further and further away from the twinkling lights.
By the time the moon came up we were out of sight of land and we were beginning to notice the full effects of being at sea. We were rowing against the wind and the waves were rolling in broadside to us. Although not large they made more than just one of the crew ill. However, gutsy as Mike and Ben are they still pulled hard without slackening their pace.
Rowing at night was a pleasant experience. Although you have the company of your fellow watch you tend to start thinking a lot. You have to as it helps pass the time. I’ve never known the stars to be so bright viewed in the UK but on that night it was crystal clear and we were able to spot shooting stars and orbiting satellites, the latter of which I had only seen high up in the Himalayas and thought not possible here.
Dawn broke and we were still not in sight of land. For two of the crew it was the first time they had been out of sight of land. It is usually an odd experience to feel. Personally I think it encouraged all to row that little bit harder, (something which proved to be getting trickier.) During the night the bow seat’s foot plate had broken, which meant Guy’s stroke was affected as he couldn’t take a full length stroke or drive as much power through the water. This caused undue strain on hips and legs but not a single complaint was heard from him. The high-tech rudder was not working so we had to lock it into a straight position. This meant all steering had to be done by power of oars alone. Bums were beginning to get sore as we had not yet fitted any padding to the small carbon fibre seats and as a consequence legs were going numb as feet heights were out of sync with the seat heights.
Watch took over from watch and we steadily drew nearer to land. With 5 miles to go to our waypoint we were able to appreciate what a feat it will be if we safely make it to Antigua, let alone break the record. Not only is it obviously a very long way to row in a big Ocean in a small boat, it is the sheer repetition of rowing and being on a boat which is usually designed to accommodate 4 men. Simple things like moving around the boat becomes an obstacle course and a balancing exercise no “swiss ball” would be able to replicate! None of us really ate as we felt a bit ill so taking the time out to prepare proper meals, keep ourselves clean and general chores will all be important. What we all wanted to do was just sleep when not on watch as what else was there to do? Yes, the Record Attempt Row is going to be a whole different ball game but with this row we can start to appreciate that and prepare accordingly both physically and mentally.
The final few miles were the hardest. Our power failed with what turned out to be quite bad flooding in the rear bulkheads, causing the batteries to short. These will now have to be replaced. The extra water we were carrying weighed the stern of the boat down into the sea, causing her to pivot from the stern and allowing the bow to be freely drawn around by whatever current or wind there was.
After what seemed like an eternity, the tide must have changed as our speed had crept up from it’s all time low of 1 knot to 3, but as we approached the small islands off Torquay the under currents must have been pushing the water out from underneath us. Without a rudder and our dagger board stuck firmly down, we found the going hard; simply keeping on the correct bearing was tiresome. It took the fresh and rested legs of Mike and Simon to pull us through into the quieter and protected waters of Torquay Marina, our final destination as it turned out. We had rowed for 23 hours and 30 minutes covering a total distance of 86 miles but it had been one of the longest 24 hours I had experienced. It proves first hand that the first 5 days into our row are going to be exhausting until our bodies adjust to the new routine.
With our feet on terra firma and the boat packed up for the night, we embarked on our next mission… Refuelling ourselves at the local fish and chip shop and heading back for some much needed shut eye.
Waking up at 8am on Sunday morning after a sound 12 hours sleep we all reconvened back at Torquay Marina at 10.30am. Mike had had to leave to help manage Marlow Half Marathon and although Ian had managed to greet us in Torquay the day before, he had received an emergency call and had been called back to London for work so couldn’t participate in the second test of the weekend. I think he was a little frustrated as it was obvious he was bursting to get into the boat and try it out first hand. So whilst Simon was off collecting the trailer from Weymouth, Guy, Ben and I repacked the boat accordingly, fit for rolling her over.
We had the whole of the marina to ourselves… ish. With the three of us on board and the added company of Guy’s oldest son Jack, we rowed slowly out to some spare space, Jack did a man over board and swum safely to the steps of the marina and Guy and I attempted to roll the boat over leaning out on ropes and bouncing her. I failed to keep my balance… twice, so Ben was called upon and with the three of us we had just enough strength and weight to lever her over. You can understand how this particular design of boat and hull has never had a roll whilst out at sea. Even at a 45 degree angle she still wanted to roll back onto her hull. However we dragged her over, stopping any momentum and let go. She popped back beautifully and all this with only half of the ballast in place. It was reassuring to see. During this I can safely confirm that no Jacks were injured in the process!
A steady crowd had formed and with perfect timing Simon appeared with the trailer. What would normally take 30 minutes loading the boat back onto the trailer took well over an hour as passers-by, clearly intrigued by the boat, came up to us either to ask questions or to wish us luck. An Ocean Rowing boat in all it’s garb attracts that sort of attention and I’m glad the sight of me in my wetsuit didn’t put people off coming up to ask a question or two.
Finally it was time for the crew to depart and to go their own ways. The next time we will all be together is out in La Gomera. It’s that close! As I write it is 12 days until we arrive out there and little under a month before our actual challenge begins!!!
The boat has already embarked on the first part of her journey. On Wednesday she was packed in her container and safely stowed on board for her journey south to La Gomera. We fly out to greet her on the 20th November.
So we have a few quiet weekends left for our own business. No doubt this will be filled up with last minute purchases and discussions via conference calls with the crew to check how they are getting on with their tasks.
Selfishly there will only be a small bit of time to fit in the shopping for Christmas presents for those loved ones we will be leaving behind. It would be useful if we could slow time down for a bit but, as always, it’s when you haven’t got enough of it that time seems to disappear at it’s fastest!
Until next time,
George
8th November 2007