Day 10: It’s not a walk in the park
Last night was special. At the end of a day where we covered a lot of ground, we had the most amazing sunset I had ever seen. The sun set on our starboard side and at the same time, in the exact opposite direction, we had a moon rise. I took a short video to give you an idea. It’s not super stable because I was in front of the boat since we were about to relaunch the spinnaker as we often do, see below.
I am sure everyone heard about the famous green light. On rare occasions, the last rays of the sun can turn green. I have been chasing this green rays but I can’t say I have ever seen it. Up until yesterday. As our beloved star sunk into the sea, it turned from orange to yellow to green. It did not last long. A second perhaps, a second and a half max. And then you turn your head and see a full moon above the low clouds. What a spectacle!
This show of nature was followed by a good dinner with some foie gras, a blanquette de veau courtesy of Marie (thanks Marie) and some Jurançon. This is a sweet wine that goes well with the foie gras. Honestly things could not be better.
I realize that up until now, this trip may sound to some like a walk in the park. For the record, it is not. It’s not like we are taking grandma for a ride around the marina. It’s tough. It’s physically tough and mentally demanding. My shift has been 1:30-4 since departure. This means that I get up at 1:15, get dressed, get on deck, take the helm, rotate with Seb, and come down around 4:15. Then a little while later, the routine repeats. Night shifts can be tough. Last night, the kite was up. Helming with the kite has nothing to do with doing it when it is not. The winds reached 20 knots, the seas were high and at some point a tanker was on a collision course with us. If you add the fact that there was a 100% cloud cover, this makes for a physical and mental challenge. Then you go down thinking that you will sleep but Ruby rolls so much that you do not sleep. You stay awake, and then the next shift begins. I am not sure a single crew member managed to sleep last night. Inside, things are noisy. Every bit of sound outside is amplified by the hull which acts as a sound box. Objects can fly. Today, we lost our coffee maker which flew out of the cupboard and got smashed on the floor.
Now you add problems. We have had problems with our spinnaker halyard since the beginning. And we have had problems with the pole and the guy of the symmetric spinnaker. This means that we need to take the kites down for repair all the time. And then send them back up. There are days where we do this over 6 times. This is exhausting. I think this is the most exhausting for Bertrand since he must be up whenever something serious happens or whenever we undertake a serious maneuver.
I am writing this late as this has been a busy day. I must go up as I need to help with the current shift so I may not post as many photos and videos as I would like.
Be assured that all is well and that we are privileged to live golden moments. I have come to look forward to my nigh shifts. I hope I will get the chance to see some stars tonight.
I will leave you with some wise words from Seb F, who is making a recurring appearance on this blog 😊
Tribute to the crew that is not sailing on Ruby.
The six of us enjoy a demanding but highly privileged and blessed time onboard. Our fast and strong vessel must look fragile and tiny on the immensity of the Pacific Ocean. To be convinced we will succeed in completing this 2300 nautical miles journey, each of us must be confident, determined and positively minded all the time. I am pretty sure this is the case given the mood and the excellence of the sailing skills displayed 24/7 on Ruby. On my side, I could not reach this mindset without the full emotional support from my dear loves, my extraordinary wife Isabelle and my two wonderful sons, Gaspard and Paul. Being at sea for a long period obviously means I miss the beautiful moments we spend together all year long, but also some important events for them, for us. Last night, the modern channels of communication available onboard let me receive two incredible news. Paul has been admitted to the Ecole Normale Supérieure de Lyon, one of the most selective cursus in France, and Gaspard has finished a two months internship with the Paris Court of Justice with impressive remarks from the Attorney he was working with. Despite the fact I was exhausted by the sail changes and jobs we all performed recently, and the timing of these announcements, 3 am local time, I felt so closed with Paul, Gaspard, and Isabelle. I wish I would have been with them to celebrate this, but also realised how lucky I was to be able to cross the Pacific with the blessing and support of my own loving crew. It could have been a birthday, a graduation, a good or a bad time, any event that a family enjoys or requires. I hear our conversations on Ruby and I guess my teammates share this strong feeling, even if this is really personal. I am sure we are all pushing the boat as fast as the safety allows it to be reunited with our beloved soulmates and children as soon as possible.
No doubt, as a sailor, my best moment during an adventure at sea is when I can take Isabelle, Gaspard and Paul in my arms again. Thank you my loves for making this possible.