No matter how well you think you have prepared for a voyage, there are always things that slip through the net. Usually they are minor items that didn’t make the final hitlist as preoccupied minds were concentrating on the big picture. On this occasion, halfway to South Georgia from the Falklands Islands, and having crossed the Polar Front, we were lacking an armory of wooden mallets and rubber hammers. We only had one. And a 50kg bag of rock salt would not have gone amiss either.
Southern winter, August 19, and we were sailing on a broad reach in 30 knots true, an established south-westerly airstream sweeping up from the Antarctic. What appeared to be a stationary high well away to the west was blocking the usual depressions marching through this part of the Southern Ocean — ideal sailing conditions for us really, and the temperatures hovering between 4° and 7° of frost would not have otherwise been an issue. But even a light sea spray coming over the beam was causing substantial accumulation of ice on deck and up to three metres on the rig.
Read more at www.yachtingworld.com.
Read more at www.yachtingworld.com.
