Volvo Ocean Race - Like ducks in a row, we march south

by Team Alvimedica on 16 Oct 2014 Like ducks in a row we march south towards the Canary Islands in the Volvo Ocean Race. Rather unexpectedly, the binoculars continue to be our primary means of recon rather than the position reports. I’m not sure one 'sched' has been read aloud to date; there’s no need when you can see everyone with your own eyes.

The obvious question is how that’s driving the tactics, and as we roll into another jibe here—our third in the last hour of this busy night—it’s clear the answer is a lot. We are racing the fleet, tack for tack, jibe for jibe, and it is incredibly tiring for the guys. I’d say that’s the general mindset onboard right now: exhausted, begging for a rhythm, but really excited to be in the hunt. One watch you’re up, the next you’re down. Patience and consistency are going to be key for this mini-race through the Canary and Verde islands where the corridor of travel is quite narrow.

Quote Charlie Enright: 'It’s good for us. The longer we stay together the more time we get to experiment different modes. High or low, different sail combinations… The more we can compare speeds, the more we can learn.'

All of the comparison to past races, to the last race in particular, of course it makes you think. Yesterday, in the remnants of the night’s nastiness, my new boots—notoriously slippery with fresh rubber and chemicals on the sole—failed me. As I was coming down the hatch, one hand on my camera the other on the hanging strap from the ceiling, my feet lost their grip. All of my weight on my shoulder, it dislocated (as it does too often, an old ice hockey injury), I let go, and landed, awash in the bilge. Camera saved, I put my shoulder back in its place and then started bailing that bilge and the rest of the boat for the next hour. Never told anyone. Not that I would ever feel sorry for myself, but I chose to come back here for more and at that moment I started to wonder why.

Yesterday passed just fine but last night’s sunset was as good as ever. Everybody noticed it, and Dave quietly acknowledged that this race gives you 'just enough of them to keep bringing you back.' As I rattled off some 300-pictures in 20 minutes of intense orange sunset-fed obsession, I looked around and realized I was back doing something that made me really happy; why would I want to be anywhere else? The friends you make, the ways you challenge yourself—we all give up a lot to be here—sometimes it’s a shoulder, other times a family. But for most of us it’s ultimately worth it in the end. I left Alicante ready for weeks of sailing to Cape Town, but I think the reality of being a part of this great Race again is finally setting Team Alvimedica