November 25, 2007 Day 1

237 sailboats circled a tiny area, waiting. Just beyond the well-wishers on the shoreline, a warship to port side and a large yellow buoy to starboard marked the starting line of the 2007 ARC. The racing boats were already full sail, speeding back and forth in the crowd of boats, coming within a few meters of the cruisers as they warmed up. Their crews were intense, shouting, disciplined men dressed in uniform gear. A rainstorm had passed, soaking the crowds onshore. In its wake was a sunny sky and placid sea. At last, a single petard was fired from the warship, and the racers were off. Exactly twenty minutes later, at 13:00, we would be too. Cap'n Mark steered the Maverick Dream toward the commercial port where container ships are loaded and unloaded. The port blocked the wind and provided a safe place to raise the mainsail. We faced directly into what wind there was, and the sail was deployed. Mark then jockeyed us back toward the starting line. All a matter of timing now. Too fast, and we would have to turn and circle around toward the back of the pack. Luck was on our side. As we came near, another petard was fired, and we were off.















As a school of playful dolphins escorted us past the Canary Islands and the coast of Africa, we were greeted by 30 knot winds. Our position put us in line with the white capped waves. Rather than riding up a wave and down the other side, we were surfing. The genaker sail was deployed; a splash of black and orange sail stood out sharply against the white boat, white mainsail, and white jenoa sail at the bow. The sun was smiling. The winds were strong. We were moving fast, topping 17 knots at times - a full ten knots above what Barry might describe as "cooking speed".Louie stood on the platform behind the ship's wheel, a satisfied smile on his face. For the first time in weeks, he said, he was not congested. Tom also looked quite satisfied. Barry and I were very happy to at last be underway, but we had our own problems to resolve. Our speed and position on the waves meant that the boat was coming to the troughs at a diagonal. The starboard side bow would plunge into the water first, then the the boat would right itself. The entire boat would then rock violently to port before coming even. But there was not a lot of coming even.Within the first 180 minutes, we had our first tragedy. The black and orange genaker had flopped listlessly for a only a moment, then a gust filled the sail. The sail, however, was at a strange angle, and a tear developed at the top. Within seconds, the tear had shredded all the way to the bottom. The gennaker was in tatters and destroyed. Our speed did not subside.Not one hour later, as Barry and I struggled to find our legs in the galley, we came to the bottom of a particularly large wave. The starboard bow tucked deeply into the sea, scooping up several hundred gallons of water which washed across the deck. The power of that water forced open one of the port windows atop the deck, and about 15 gallons of the sea made its way into the captain's quarters. Happily, the bed where Barry sleeps was missed, but the water covered blankets, cushions, and a lot of floor. While we cleaned the mess, Louie rigged some exercise weights atop the window, which will keep out the majority of the sea until something else is worked out.Barry faced the near impossibility of preparing food in the galley. I, in turn, face the very-near possibility that I might start yacking and never stop. Like some mythical beast on the stern, I would howl into the night with a gap-jawed cry that would keep away all sea monsters. We each worked hard to stay out in front of our demons, and we emerged somewhat victorious. Barry laid a table of mashed potatoes and cheese, salad, bread, and water. There may have been other things as well; I did not spend much time looking at the food. I was in bed by 20:30, my stomach being rocked to sleep.Tom and Barry took the first night watch, then Mark, then Louie. I awoke around 02:30 and went up top to try to get some sailing lessons from one of the best. Only two other boats were in sight. After Louie left, I watch them like they were mad dogs who might overtake us at any moment. The sails banged around a lot during my 03:30 to 06:00 watch. Mark came up and trimmed them accordingly. We have all had breakfast of Muesli and fruit. Tom has the audacity to attempt to bake a loaf of bread as we continue to hurtle forward into our first full day at sea.More tomorrowcheers from cap'n Mark, skipper Louis, pirate Tom, chef Barry and boat scribe Keithoh..and here's a little something from Tom for those able to read Dutch..it's all Greek to me.

• Zielsroerselen van TomJe weet niet waar je aan begint om 16 tot 18 dagen aan boord te gaan voor een oversteek zonder land te zien.Wat ik denk is een belangrijke voorwaarde is kan de bemanning door één deur met elkaar en is de boot wel comfortabel genoeg.De start van een week voor de start met elkaar te zijn was een goede test.Op de avond van de 25 ste gingen we de 1ste wachten draaien met als supervisors Mark en Louis voor de aanpassingen aan zeilvoering en koers.Ook die test hebben we goed doorstaan. De ochtendwacht van 6.00 uur tot 8.00 uur is het mooiste want dan komt de zon op.Morgen gaan we verder
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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