A Beastie Boys Kinda Night

Think about sailing, visions of wine and cheese served to a soundtrack of Southern Cross come to mind. This is not that kind of a sail. The past 24 hours brought us thirty knots of sustained winds and 10’ seas with a periodic 15’er, just to keep it interesting. All this on the nose as the Caymans are a close haul to starboard. These conditions turn a relaxing sail into a heavy metal concert. It is loud. Loud as in “can’t talk to the person next to you on watch” loud. It is wet. At this point of sail, running at 10 knots, the cockpit is awash with seas shed from the foredeck. Ankle deep water at the helm is a constant companion. Waves break over our dodger. A constant crashing.

When we say wet, it is not just wet on deck but everywhere. The seas atomize, a sheen of saltwater coats the cabin sole, turning it into a hockey rink, making any movement below decks a two-handed effort. You slide, you slam. Into counters, walls and even cats. Tomorrow at our mooring we will all be licking our wounds.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow is three dark hours away. A moonless night. The wind howls. The seas crash. We are plunging through a cacophony in total darkness, eyes peeled for navigation lights, instruments on, searching frantically for other boats. Blind and deaf, we roar through the night with the Beastie Boys at full volume, running hard to the wind. We have a schedule to keep. Wine and cheese await under a clear blue sky.

Image courtesy of © Anna-Lena Elled/Team SCA /Volvo Ocean Race