News from the rail, a synopsis of the 5th leg by LG FLATRON crew-member

by Bob Bell on 28 Apr 2001 A lot of water has washed over the decks, literally, since my last journal from Sydney! The trouble is, some of it was
violent enough to damage the communications dome on the boat, leaving us without our normal email and Internet
access little more than a week out from Australia. So no crew emails home from the boat on this leg I'm afraid - a
real shame as there was quite a lot that I would have liked to tell you about at the time.

However, you may still be interested in a retrospective view of the leg from the boat so here is the first part of a two
part journal - the second part will follow in a couple of weeks time when I get back from a train journey up to Victoria
Falls and Chobe National Park. I'll catch up with and respond to your emails then also but in the meantime, thanks
so much for your messages and good wishes - marvellous.

For those that may not have been following it on the web site, let me start with the best of news - we did it again! Our
third leg win of the race and I would have to say that this time, we did it with some style, finishing over 200 miles and
26 hours ahead of the second placed boat and over 500 miles and four days ahead of the tail-enders. And with our
closest rivals well down the field, we are now 12 points clear of the pack for the Princess Royal trophy for the overall
race.

A great position to be in with just two legs remaining, but don't get the idea that we are in any way complacent about
that - we will be trying as hard as ever to win those two remaining legs and as previous races have shown, anything
can happen. But if nothing else, perhaps we can justifiably be called the champions of what the race is mostly about,
the Southern Oceans - few can argue with wins in the two longest and toughest legs, a very close second in the
short sprint from Wellington to Sydney, and the fastest overall time between the two Capes - Cape Horn and the
Cape of Good Hope.

But what of the leg itself? Well, there was the race and there was the experience.

The race was fascinating, although it did start with something of a whimper - the urgency of the starting gun could
not be matched by the yachts as they limped across the line with spinnakers flapping in next to no wind! Something
like four hours later, we at last cleared the harbour in sixth place - even the accompanying flotilla of well-wishers had
given up by then and left us to it! Twenty-four hours later, we were heading south in gale force winds with the rest of
the fleet hard on our heels.

We were determined to push hard for the first, critical 72 hours, effectively following the route of the annual
Sydney-Hobart race down to Tasmania, which claimed five lives in the storms of the 1998 race. So while we were
disappointed, if not surprised, by such an early, rough ride at the hands of the large, steep seas of the Bass Strait,
we were relieved to complete its crossing having lost little more than the contents of a few stomachs and gained just
a few sprains and bruises.

That we were fortunate was confirmed by news of the terrible accident experienced by Veritas. An excellent and
moving account of this was posted on the website and is well worth a read but in essence, a large wave washed two
of the crew down the boat and one of them into the spokes of the wheel, then spinning out of control. The injuries
were horrendous - broken thighs, shins, ankles, ribs, vertebrae, elbows and fingers - which had to be dealt with by
the crew in the most testing of conditions. It was nine hours before the injured could be landed back in Australia,
marking the end of their race of course, although Veritas, minus its communications dome, was able to rejoin the
race after 24 hours.

It did make us all stop and think but we were racing hard and by then had established a thirty mile lead through the
bad weather. It was then that we made one of our most important, tactical decisions - to continue on a more
southerly route past Tasmania rather than head immediately on a more westerly one. The idea was to avoid a large
wind shadow believed to be building in high pressure to the south-east of Tasmania. It worked like a charm - whilst
we were able to keep going through the increasingly light conditions, the rest of the fleet, by then some sixty miles
to the North, parked up pretty well together and by the end of the first week, our lead had been extended to over one
hundred miles. It was an important, early breakthrough.

Storm two arrived with 65 knot winds and a wave that, because she happened to be on the helm at the time, became
known as Annie's wave. Following hard on the heels of a smaller but steep wave which robbed the boat of its
momentum, LG Flatron struggled towards the top of this monster. She didn't make it - suddenly, the boat was being
swept from stem to stern by tons of green water as she dipped her nose through the top few feet of the wave.
Vulnerable at the stern, Annie was virtually submerged, knocked off her feet and thrown back against a steel guard
rail behind her which, in daylight, was shown to have bent six inches out of true. Thankfully, Annie herself was more
shaken than damaged and until the aches and pains started the next day, seemed more concerned at having lost
her favourite hat overboard!

But for the boat itself, Annie's wave had even more impact, as one look at the communications dome the following
morning showed. There, to one side, was an enormous dent surrounded by cracks and missing chunks of gel coat.
Whether caused by the wave action itself or by Annie colliding with it was uncertain, although with very little
imagination, we all felt we could see Annie's imprint, cartoon style! The dent was punched out and the cracks
patched over with tape in the vain hope that the gubbins inside had survived intact, as indeed they did on Compaq in
a similar incident. But it was not to be - that was the end of emails with home and even more importantly in the final
analysis, Internet access for real-time weather information. We would have to make do with forecasts from race
headquarters, radio and fax from here on.

After a storm, gales and near gales seem no problem at all and so it was that we made our way south and west,
mainly in steady 30 to 40 knot winds for days on end. Through the roaring forties and down into the furious fifties
again, sometimes able to sail directly along our great circle route in favourable winds and at other times, tacking
back and forth as the winds came directly from where we wanted to go. The cold came as no surprise of course, as
did the endless days of featureless grey - this was now familiar, if unwelco