| Breaking
News |
| 9th
August - Reykjavik
Harbour |
| |
| Location: |
Reykjavik
Harbour |
Time: |
16.54
(GMT) |
| Weather: |
Changeable |
Team
Member: |
All
Expedition members |
| Report: |
|
| Charlie:
Our last leg was a real mixed bag of experience and emotion leaving
sooner than hoped and still exhausted from the Labrador Sea there
was a sense of in trepidation. This worried departure was due
to having to meet the weather window forecast set by out meteorologist
in the UK. The first 12 hours we travelled through some of the
most beautiful landscape I have ever seen with sheer rock faces
rising out of the fjords along with seeing endless glaciers, icebergs
and even a close whale sighting.
|
| Leaving
the fjords, we moved out into an eerily still calm open sea for
the longest open sea leg of 721 nautical miles across the Davies
Straight towards Iceland. 12 hours later our weather window was
firmly slammed shut 150 miles out, as the weather picked up dramatically.
Believing that things were only going to get worse and that the
storms had arrived early, I began to fear the worse as night closed
in. Soon our ability to pick our way through the waves disappeared
and in the darkness, waves broke and hit from nowhere.
|
| Trying
to sleep under half a sodden tarpaulin up to our waists with waves
pouring over us as the boat lurched over the steepening seas was
more than a little disconcerting. I was genuinely very scared.
I was even re arranging the emergency flares and radio on my dry
suit. Bear managed to put through a call to our UK base to inform
coastguard of our situation. Am morning came up the weather seemed
to get worse with some masterful helming from Bear and Andy, the
ride became more comfortable as they slalomed through the 20ft
sea.
|
| Not
until around 4.00pm, 24 hours from the beginning of the really bad
weather, was there any sense of relief. Though we could see land
on the chart, we did not get visual confirmation under the dark
sky and rain until we were 4 miles off shore. Almost all of our
electrical systems were down due to the sheer battering and wet
conditions and the physical sight of land was the most welcome sights
I have ever known. We had made it, tired and emotionally exhausted
after 56 hours on the boat. |
Iceland
ahoy!
|
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| Nige:
After such a calm & tranquil day and a half, it seemed a shame
that the wind started to get up. Life on board changes dramatically
when you can't wander around the boat and are restricted to the
area behind the console. The spray started to build and I thought
nothing of it compared to what we had gone through on the leg
from Canada to Greenland. At dusk, I realised that this was more
than just a brief gust. A look at the barometer made me feel quite
humble. A drop of 10 millibars (mb) within as many hours indicated
that the night would be eventful at least. A few hours later sure
enough we were being tossed around in the boat again. Unable to
hold a conversation, sleep, eat or drink, people's humour soon
ran out. |
| During
a time while I was supposed to be resting, I remember sitting in
the 'deck' chair behind the driving position being pelted with old
icy water with every wave. This was one of the worst moments I could
remember. I have never wanted to be somewhere else so much! The
water was getting everywhere and my feet and hands were numb with
cold. The wind continued to increase and for the first time in almost
1,400 miles on this boat, I genuinely felt scared. The barometer
had dropped another 5 mb. Why didn't anyone warn us about this?
I was virtually resigned to the fact that we would end up in the
water; I was expecting every wave to tip us over. The engine just
couldn't fail now. A look around the boat made me sure that if the
boat did flip, it was unlikely there would be 5 survivors. I was
planning exactly what I'd do if the worst did happen and with every
wave, I was reaching for the life lines so that I would at least
stay with the boat. Not much good that would do in pitch darkness
in a storm-ridden sea though! How did we deploy the life raft, how
do we set off the Epirus would there be anyone close enough to hear
our calls for help on the VHF were the only things going through
my mind during these miserable hours. I'm not particularly religious
but I did find myself asking someone for some help. |
| I
remember having a few peculiar dreams almost hallucinations due
to the complete exhaustion. Somehow we saw dawn arrive and although
the sea did not change significantly, the arrival of light seems
to make things much better. Although the ships computer said we
still had 10 hours to go, I was at least happy to be in the boat
as opposed to drifting around helplessly in the North Atlantic,
which a few hours ago seemed a distinct possibility.
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