Vendee Globe - Nandor Fa remembers some of the old days

by Vendee Globe on 10 Dec 2016 The wind had increased and turned, but not continuously. At night there was a big drop in wind speed, then it came back soon. I saw on the AIS that Stéphane’s speed went down to seven knots. I started worrying about him, then I met the reason too: there was a massive fog - just as if we were sailing by Ireland. I could see only 50 metres, which means one and a half waves. It was a pretty unique atmosphere.

I’m very thankful for my great clothing, which protects me in such ice cold weather. I remember vividly when we were sailing down here onboard St. Jupát without any special sailing garments (in 1987). Everything was wet all the time, and we were freezing to our bones in those simple cotton and rubber clothes. Now only my feet are cold.

The wind had increased and turned, but not continuously. At night there was a big drop in wind speed, then it came back soon. I saw on the AIS that Stéphane’s speed went down to seven knots. I started worrying about him, then I met the reason too: there was a massive fog - just as if we were sailing by Ireland. I could see only 50 metres, which means one and a half waves. It was a pretty unique atmosphere. I’m very thankful for my great clothing, which protects me in such ice cold weather. I remember vividly when we were sailing down here onboard St. Jupát without any special sailing garments (in 1987). Everything was wet all the time, and we were freezing to our bones in those simple cotton and rubber clothes. Now only my feet are cold.

I just passed the corner of the ice border. From now on, I could sail downwards again as far as the Kerguelen, it would be a shortcut. However I’m doing the exact opposite of that, sailing on a curve to the North, because this is how I can keep following the good wind connections. The lower curve is going to be dead calm in the following few days. A thousand miles long high-pressure lane is developing in a NW - SE direction in front of us. Those who can keep the pace with these last gusts won’t be stuck. My routing says I can get through.

The wind increased to 36 - 38 knots, which is too much for the J2. I decided to change it for the J3, I thought that’s just an easy routine operation. I took on all my clothes, went out and bore away 20° so that the sails wouldn’t clap as hard while loosening them. I wanted to furl out the J3 but it stopped halfway. I didn’t understand why. I ran to the front to take a look at it: two halyards were somehow stuck at the top lock.

As the half of the sail was clapping, its ropes were thrashing everything around them like whips. It was dangerous to go near them. It took 20 minutes of running back and forth to adjust the level of tightness of the halyard to break free. I was trying to pull the other halyards away so that I could check what I was doing but my glasses were wet and I couldn’t see a thing. Actually, it’s a miracle that I still have them. Once it was slapped off my face by the sheet, then the sheet took my hat, thrashed my mouth, and hit me everywhere it reached. The sail was still stuck. Should I climb up there in such weather?! The boat started surfing, splashing a lot of ice-cold water in my face and my neck. But I didn’t care anymore, all I thought about was to solve the problem.

Finally I decided to take down the whole sail like that, half-furled, clapping. I managed to keep it on the deck. There was a fair chance it might end up in the water. This sail was hoisted before the start and had been kept up there ever since. I fixed the problem in the lock, rearranged the ropes and started to pull it back up. I barely dared to start winching again, the ropes were doing such an aggressive dance. Finally it was up again. Then I went behind the protection and just stared in front of myself for a while. There isn’t a part of my arms and hands that doesn’t hurt. Now I just need to change into dry clothes and then we’re done with the “routine” action. According to the Adrena this little adventure took one hour and three minutes.

I’m in an emotionally difficult position now, only 30 nautical miles away from the abandoned and death-sentenced Bastide-Otio. It’s probably still above the surface because we can see it on the map. It’s still sending the signals. It’s a very sad story with Kito. Both of them are really unlucky. Kito was forced to abandon the last VG too, due to a collision with a fishing boat. The boat was originally the Paprec-Virbac, with Jean-Pierre Dick they lost their keel only 2000 miles before the finish line. With a genius way of sailing Jean-Pierre managed to take the boat home. Then it became the Hugo Boss for the BWR in 2015, where it dismasted. And now she’d come to the end of her carrier.

It’s a very tough ride but I need to keep the rhythm and the direction. It would be much more comfortable if I bore away a bit, but then I wouldn’t reach the connection to get out of here. Water is constantly running through the deck. My leeward door is always closed, otherwise the ocean spray comes in. I have to get dressed completely for just 10 seconds while I go out to set the hydro-generator.

Position on 9th December, 16:20 UTC: 43° 33,4' S, 055° 33' E, We’re doing good!