Volvo Ocean Race - Spring on board Team Brunel

by Team Brunel - Robbert-Jan Metselaar on 21 Mar 2015 Today it’s spring on board Team Brunel. It’s not as if there are suddenly girls in skirts strolling over the foredeck and the men of the team have absolutely no beer in their water bottles. But it feels like spring.

Yesterday it felt like winter, and then the most oppressively cold, miserable winter that you could imagine. With a bitter 27-knot wind, the team had a lot on its plate. To make things worse, cyclone Pam had also left us a number of eight-metre-high parting gifts. The boat rammed through the waves in the depths of the night with a deafening boom boom! The men were roped up, which was a good idea as huge masses of water swept over the deck time after time and took everything that wasn’t lashed down into the watery depths. It was even dark during the day. A part of the crew were wrestling with sea-sickness, another quarter had long since lost the fight. “Last night was really the end,” said our new recruit De Ridder. Even skipper Bekking had not eaten for 48 hours. “I think that if I took one mouthful that would be it,” he admitted.”

The boat is not a cosy place to be in the winter. Hardly anything is eaten. Hardly anything is said. All our energy goes into surviving. Some of the lads don’t even know our position. It’s fireman’s helmet on, eyes on infinity and ram forwards.

After two days on oxygen, even I got down on my knees and begged God for a short pause for breath. No more pounding, please. No more Alpe d’ Huez downhills. No more stomach turning inside out.

And then it’s spring. 27 knots of wind becomes 19. What a heavenly feeling! As if that hangover from an evening’s serious tequila drinking has suddenly disappeared. And, oh my God, here’s the sun!

One hungry sailor after another comes down to my little galley for something to eat. Jens Dolmer combs through the boat like a true Sherlock Holmes, checking that everything is still where it should be.

Pablo Arrarte is teaching the men dirty words in Spanish. Two gigantic albatrosses fly along with us playfully. Rokas does his penguin impression. We laugh. I close my eyes and enjoy it all immensely. “Life is made for you, amigo”, laughs Arrarte from behind the helm.

“Si, it’s spring mi muchacho,” I reply, mashing up our languages as usual. “Enjoy. Tomorrow it might be winter again. Para mas, mas dias.'