Day 4 - Life at 45 Degrees - by Crewman Holland
It's Day 4 of the Atlantic crossing on Rafiki, and we're all starting to get into the groove of things.
'Getting into the Groove' basically means getting used to living at an angle of around 45 degrees. It's a bit like living on the side of a very steep hill. During a very noisy earthquake. With five other vaguely unwashed men. Standards of hygiene are French at best, although we do make the best effort we can. It's just that the 45 degrees moving target thing can really meddle with a chap's aim. Anyway. We all seem to have found our sea-legs. No-one's been sick yet - or if they have they've managed it with a heroic level of silent secrecy.
There's been no complaining at all - yet. This is partially due to the high standard of rations we've maintained since leaving port. (We shall see how we all fare if we're still 24 days in - all fighting over the last squishy apple). As it stands we've been enjoying the finer things.
Day four heralded the grand carving of the Rafiki jamon, resplendent in it's wooden stand - hoof aloft, which Damien fixed to the table with a G-clamp to counter the slope. This ingenious fix allowed me to hack away at the expensive Spanish delicacy like a deluded English wally, until Nacho took over with effortless Spanish skill, slicing away quicker than we were able to eat. Fortunately, Nacho wasn't left too much time for ham-based big-headedness. As the reel on his fishing rod began to scream, Nacho confidently grasped the handle and began the fight of his life, battling away with the monster catch that was going to provide us all with a fantastic fresh fishy dinner. We had absolute faith in his hereditary Galician skills, hailing as he does from one of Spain's fishiest regions. As we scoured the horizon for the leaping Tuna we had all imagined, we slowly realised that Nacho had in fact hooked us a delicious plastic wind-turbine, sitting on the roof of our boat, that was spinning away reeling in his line. Gutted!
Denied a fish supper, the gourmet boat theme was continued with dinner as James Cofone opened up 'Honest Cosmo's Pizzeria' in the kitchen, knocking up 6 amazing pizzas from scratch. Seriously good stuff. N.B. - If this blog sounds like one long list of food, then its a perfect insight into the passing of time on a long crossing like this. Time is measured in meals and watches. This was a damn good meal - but we were eating our dinner at about 5pm - Spanish lunchtime. The reason for this was the weather forecast, which basically predicted an enormous portion of windy 30 knot doom (or so it seemed to me), with a side-serving of vicious 6 metre waves. Delicious! Just the sort of thing that helps the dinner go down (and stay down!)
We cleared the decks, battened down the hatches and reduced our sail, each of us waiting for our watch, secretly hoping that the crappy weather would begin about 5 minutes after we finished our watch and got below, so someone else could deal with it. When the sun went down, the clouds conveniently blotted out any light whatsoever. It was the darkest night we had yet encountered. There was not a single light in sight from any other boat. We were all alone. Typical! By 4am the 30 knots was no-where to be seen, but sunrise was still 3 hours away......
Will our plucky heroes survive the long dark night? Will the terrifying moderately-strong winds arrive before daybreak? Tune in to find out, this time tomorrow, for another thrilling episode of - 'RAFIKI'
