A summary of the doldrums phase, with diving action and drone images
A pronounced calm had the boats firmly in its grip yesterday. Mileages of between 50 and 60 nautical miles speak for themselves. Team SCA took the opportunity to catch up, while Dongfeng was able to pull away a little further at the front.
The emails from on board were interesting in these conditions. Because for the crews, a calm means an unpleasant life below deck. Stefan Coppers from Team Brunel describes a particularly impressive episode that is worth passing on:
By now, everyone should know that Brunel's sailors sleep in the bow when it's calm. (To get the wide stern out of the water and thus reduce the wetted area, ed.) At temperatures of 45 degrees, this is not exactly the most inviting place to sleep, and yet there are favourites even there.
The most popular seats are the two aisles to the left and right of the ballast tank. There is room for four people. As the tilting keel means that the boat is constantly heeling a little, the gangway prevents you from rolling to one side when the boat tilts.
The worst place to be is in the centre of the tank. Every little gust makes you slide to the side. You try to hold on and sleep at the same time. That's why there are even sailors who skip meals after their watch in order to secure a good spot.
Holy sh...t, was I tired last night and greedy for a good night's sleep!
No wind outside and total darkness inside. I shine a light into the bow while poking at a packet of kung fu noodles and see an empty seat. This is my night!
While the water boils in the kettle, I jump into the bow and make myself a nest out of clothes and bags. Nothing will keep me from a fantastic four-hour sleep. Just a few more minutes, I just have to prepare something for the boys.
While I'm tipping the water to the oriental meal, I see out of the corner of my eye how the damn Capey (Andres Cape, navigator) slowly creeps into the bow. It looks like he's smelled a good bed.
"Where do you think you're going, Mr Navigator," I think.
But I'll just say: "Good night, Capey"
It's like the phenomenon with the cat that always sits on the newspaper when you're about to read it and gives you a look that says: "No chance of getting me out of here."
This is the look Capey gives me as he makes himself comfortable on my bed. Capey, the cat. "Now get your arse up, Mr Capey! I haven't seen you in the bow once in the past two weeks! Back to your navigation screen!"
These words run through my head as I hear myself stammer: "D..D..Do you think I could just get my headphones? They should be there somewhere."
The sleeping place on the tank feels as bad as ever, but the gentle purring of our navigator gives me a warm feeling. Let him sleep it off, we still need him..."
In the current position report, the boats had picked up speed again at eight to nine knots.
Lars Bolle
Chief Editor Digital
