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"Gruelling" is the word that best described it. I would pick the coldest week they could
remember ever having for an Induction sail, wouldn't I? And there was I with my tropically thin blood hoping to be eased in gently……no way!
Earlier strong winds that week had already
whipped up a huge Atlantic swell off Plymouth in SW England. My log reflects force eight freezing gales on the first day, lack of balance and nausea on the second and three inches of snow on deck on the third. Finally,
the sun shone over Toshiba II in the afternoon of the fourth day. What bliss! Only when I was warm, dry and good humoured again and with company (much later in the train going back to London!) were four of us able to
enthuse about our new experiences.
Had you been there on the boat with us, you would have laughed. I recall a particularly comical moment while the yacht was pounding up and down through what
seemed like huge waves and a ferocious, biting wind. It was freezing cold, we were all well soaked on the outside and cold and damp within and it was my group's turn to change the yankee - the sail at the very front of
the boat. Just to get there, it entails clipping your safety line onto the jackstay with one hand while holding onto the yacht with the other. The further along the deck you go, the more unclipping and clipping goes on.
It's not as easy as it sounds with bitterly cold hands and the boat at 45 degrees! I found myself closest to the bow and at one point looked back and laughed at how ridiculous it all seemed. There we were,
people of all ages and from all walks of life, feeling varying degrees of seasickness and cold, some grovelling on hands and knees, attached in a line to the jackstay like convicts in the chain gang. With waves crashing
over our heads (this was December in England, remember), this seemingly impossible task took us novices about 30 minutes to achieve instead of ten. Were we crazy or something?
Before the course finished, we made a visit to DML in Devonport to see the prototype for 2000 – our yacht and home-to-be for ten months. The deck was bare but marked to show the position of the
winches, the coachhouse, the single mast and soforth, every mark being meaningful. We moved about on deck nodding approvingly and looking knowledgeable (but actually knowing so little), and then we went below. The hull
was almost empty bar the engine still wrapped in its factory plastic. We sat and listened as the Skipper gave us the final briefing of the week and I wondered if I was the only one with a huge lump in my throat,
thinking that this was going to be serious stuff indeed.
Unlike the Whitbread which races around the world from west to east, the BT Global Challenge races from east to west against the
prevailing winds and currents. Moreover, unlike the Whitbread, the only professional sailors in the BT Global Challenge are the Skippers of each yacht. The rest of the crew are very much amateurs at the time of
interview, mostly with limited sailing experience. For that reason, each Crew Volunteer has to complete a series of training sails to build the required knowledge and skills before the race starts. Additionally,
each Crew Volunteer pays £24,850 for a berth. Chay told me, 'You know this is going to change your life?' Change my life? I thought, maybe. It's certainly going to change my bank balance!
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