He crossed the Atlantic because it was there, and the Pacific because it was
also there.
He made both crossings in a rowboat because it, too, was there, and because the
lure of sea, spray and sinew, and the history-making chance to traverse two
oceans without steam or sail, proved irresistible.
In 1969, after six months alone on the Atlantic battling storms, sharks and
encroaching madness, John Fairfax, who died this month at 74, became the first
lone oarsman in recorded history to traverse any ocean.
In 1972, he and his girlfriend, Sylvia Cook, sharing a boat, became the first
people to row across the Pacific, a yearlong ordeal during which their craft was
thought lost. (The couple survived the voyage, and so, for quite some time, did
their romance.)
Both journeys were the subject of fevered coverage by the news media. They
inspired two memoirs by Mr. Fairfax, “Britannia: Rowing Alone Across the
Atlantic” and, with Ms. Cook, “Oars Across the Pacific,” both published in the
early 1970s.
Mr. Fairfax died on Feb. 8 at his home in Henderson, Nev., near Las Vegas. The
apparent cause was a heart attack, said his wife, Tiffany. A professional
astrologer, she is his only immediate survivor. Ms. Cook, who became an
upholsterer and spent the rest of her life quietly on dry land (though she
remained a close friend of Mr. Fairfax), lives outside London.
For all its bravura, Mr. Fairfax’s seafaring almost pales beside his earlier
ventures. Footloose and handsome, he was a flesh-and-blood character out of
Graham Greene, with more than a dash of Hemingway and Ian Fleming shaken in.
At 9, he settled a dispute with a pistol. At 13, he lit out for the Amazon
jungle.
At 20, he attempted suicide-by-jaguar. Afterward he was apprenticed to a pirate.
To please his mother, who did not take kindly to his being a pirate, he briefly
managed a mink farm, one of the few truly dull entries on his otherwise
crackling résumé, which lately included a career as a professional gambler.
Mr. Fairfax was among the last avatars of a centuries-old figure: the lone-wolf
explorer, whose exploits are conceived to satisfy few but himself. His was a
solitary, contemplative art that has been all but lost amid the contrived
derring-do of adventure-based reality television.
The only child of an English father and a Bulgarian mother, John Fairfax was
born on May 21, 1937, in Rome, where his mother had family; he scarcely knew his
father, who worked in London for the BBC.
Seeking to give her son structure, his mother enrolled him at 6 in the Italian
Boy Scouts. It was there, Mr. Fairfax said, that he acquired his love of nature
— and his determination to bend it to his will.
On a camping trip when he was 9, John concluded a fight with another boy by
filching the scoutmaster’s pistol and shooting up the campsite. No one was
injured, but his scouting career was over.
His parents’ marriage dissolved soon afterward, and he moved with his mother to
Buenos Aires. A bright, impassioned dreamer, he devoured tales of adventure,
including an account of the voyage of Frank Samuelsen and George Harbo,
Norwegians who in 1896 were the first to row across the Atlantic. John vowed
that he would one day make the crossing alone.
At 13, in thrall to Tarzan, he ran away from home to live in the jungle. He
survived there as a trapper with the aid of local peasants, returning to town
periodically to sell the jaguar and ocelot skins he had collected.
He later studied literature and philosophy at a university in Buenos Aires and
at 20, despondent over a failed love affair, resolved to kill himself by letting
a jaguar attack him. When the planned confrontation ensued, however, reason
prevailed — as did the gun he had with him.
In Panama, he met a pirate, applied for a job as a pirate’s apprentice and was
taken on. He spent three years smuggling guns, liquor and cigarettes around the
world, becoming captain of one of his boss’s boats, work that gave him superb
navigational skills.
When piracy lost its luster, he gave his boss the slip and fetched up in 1960s
London, at loose ends. He revived his boyhood dream of crossing the ocean and,
since his pirate duties had entailed no rowing, he began to train.
He rowed daily on the Serpentine, the lake in Hyde Park. Barely more than half a
mile long, it was about one eight-thousandth the width of the Atlantic, but it
would do.
On Jan. 20, 1969, Mr. Fairfax pushed off from the Canary Islands, bound for
Florida. His 22-foot craft, the Britannia, was the Rolls-Royce of rowboats: made
of mahogany, it had been created for the voyage by the eminent English boat
designer Uffa Fox. It was self-righting, self-bailing and partly covered.
Aboard were provisions (Spam, oatmeal, brandy); water; and a temperamental
radio. There was no support boat and no chase plane — only Mr. Fairfax and the
sea. He caught fish and sometimes boarded passing ships to cadge food, water and
showers.
The long, empty days spawned a temporary madness. Desperate for female company,
he talked ardently to the planet Venus.
On July 19, 1969 — Day 180 — Mr. Fairfax, tanned, tired and about 20 pounds
lighter, made landfall at Hollywood, Fla. “This is bloody stupid,” he said as he
came ashore. Two years later, he was at it again.
This time Ms. Cook, a secretary and competitive rower he had met in London, was
aboard. Their new boat, the Britannia II, also a Fox design, was about 36 feet
long, large enough for two though still little more than a toy on the Pacific.
“He’s always been a gambler,” Ms. Cook, 73, recalled by telephone on Wednesday.
“He was going to the casino every night when I met him — it was craps in those
days. And at the end of the day, adventures are a kind of gamble, aren’t they?”
Their crossing, from San Francisco to Hayman Island, Australia, took 361 days —
from April 26, 1971, to April 22, 1972 — and was an 8,000-mile cornucopia of
disaster.
“It was very, very rough, and our rudder got snapped clean off,” Ms. Cook said.
“We were frequently swamped, and at night you didn’t know if the boat was the
right way up or the wrong way up.”
Mr. Fairfax was bitten on the arm by a shark, and he and Ms. Cook became trapped
in a cyclone, lashing themselves to the boat until it subsided. Unreachable by
radio for a time, they were presumed lost.
For all that, Ms. Cook said, there were abundant pleasures. “The nights not too
hot, sunny days when you could just row,” she recalled. “You just hear the
clunking of the rowlocks, and you stop rowing and hear little splashings of the
sea.”
Mr. Fairfax was often asked why he chose a rowboat to beard two roiling oceans.
“Almost anybody with a little bit of know-how can sail,” he said in a profile on
the Web site of the Ocean Rowing Society International, which adjudicates ocean
rowing records. “I’m after a battle with nature, primitive and raw.”
Such battles are a young man’s game. With Ms. Cook, Mr. Fairfax went back to the
Pacific in the mid-’70s to try to salvage a cache of lead ingots from a downed
ship they had spied on their crossing. But the plan proved unworkable, and he
never returned to sea.
In recent years, Mr. Fairfax made his living playing baccarat, the card game
also favored by James Bond.
Baccarat is equal parts skill and chance. It lets the player wield consummate
mastery while consigning him simultaneously to the caprices of fate.
October 10, 2011
The New York Times
By WILLIAM J. BROAD
Sea explorers announced Monday the discovery of a new sunken treasure that
they plan to retrieve from the bottom of the North Atlantic.
Off Ireland in 1917, a German torpedo sank the British steam ship Mantola,
sending the vessel and its cargo of an estimated 20 tons of silver to the seabed
more than a mile down. At today’s prices, the metal would be worth about $18
million.
Odyssey Marine Exploration, based in Tampa, Fla., said it had visually confirmed
the identity of the Mantola with a tethered robot last month during an
expedition and had been contracted by the British Department for Transport (a
successor to the Ministry of War Transport) to retrieve the lost riches.
In recent years, cash-strapped governments have started looking to lost cargoes
as a way to raise money. They do so because the latest generation of robots,
lights, cameras and claws can withstand the deep’s crushing pressures and have
opened up a new world of shipwreck recovery.
“A lot of new and interesting opportunities are presenting themselves,” said
Greg Stemm, the chief executive of Odyssey. The new finding, he added, is the
company’s second discovery of a deep-ocean wreck for the British government this
year.
In such arrangements, private companies put their own money at risk in costly
expeditions and split any profits. In this case, Odyssey is to get 80 percent of
the silver’s value and the British government 20 percent. It plans to attempt
the recovery this spring, along with that of its previous find.
Last month, Odyssey announced its discovery of the British steam ship Gairsoppa
off Ireland and estimated its cargo at up to 240 tons of silver — a trove worth
more than $200 million. The Gairsoppa was torpedoed in 1941.
Both ships had been owned by the British Indian Steam Navigation Company and
both were found by Odyssey during expeditions in the past few months. Odyssey
said that the Mantola’s sinking in 1917 had prompted the British government to
pay out an insurance claim on about 600,000 troy ounces of silver, or more than
20 tons.
Mr. Stemm said the Mantola’s silver should make “a great target for testing some
new technology” of deep-sea retrieval.
The Mantola was less than a year old when, on Feb. 4, 1917, she steamed out of
London on her last voyage, bound for Calcutta. According to Odyssey, the ship
carried 18 passengers, 165 crew members and diverse cargo. The captain was David
James Chivas, the great-nephew of the Chivas Brothers, known for their Chivas
Regal brand of Scotch whiskey.
Four days out of port, a German submarine fired a torpedo and the ship sank with
minimal loss of life.
In an expedition last month, Odyssey lowered a tethered robot that positively
identified the wreck. The evidence included the ship’s dimensions, its layout
and a display of painted letters on the stern that fit the words “Mantola” and
“Glasgow,” the ship’s home port.
Photographs show the hulk covered in rivulets of rust known as rusticles, which
look like brownish icicles. One picture shows a large sea creature poised near
the ship’s railing.
November 4, 2006
Filed at 7:07 a.m. ET
The New York Times
By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
LONDON (AP) -- Groaning with gifts and larger
than any sleigh, the world's biggest container ship docked in Britain Saturday
on a maiden voyage to deliver thousands of tons of Christmas presents,
decorations and food across the globe.
The MS Emma Maersk, which weighs 190,400 tons, set sail from Gothenburg, Sweden,
in September, collecting and delivering festive supplies in Yantian, China, Hong
Kong and Tanjung Pelepas, Malaysia.
Operated by a crew of 13, the vessel is the largest at sea -- a quarter-mile
long, 200 feet high and powered by the biggest diesel engine ever built.
Among goods packed into 11,000 containers are 2 million Christmas decorations,
12,800 MP3 players, 33,000 cocktail shakers, 168 tons of New Zealand lamb,
thousands of frozen chickens and 138,000 cans of cat food, said the owner,
Danish shipping company Maersk Line.
Around 50,400 tons of goods were due to be unloaded Saturday at Felixstowe port,
in southern England, before the ship sails to mainland Europe to deliver 8,000
containers of cargo.
The voyage is the ship's first from China to Europe and was specifically planned
to deliver Christmas stocks to shopkeepers -- including a haul of electronic
dinosaurs, radio-controlled cars, pinball machines and computers.
Maersk Line said the ship could travel about 200,000 miles every year -- the
equivalent of seven and a half trips around the world.
Most of the goods have been produced in China, which last year exported $30.5
billion worth of goods to Britain, said Caroline Lucas, a European Parliament
legislator with Britain's environmentalist Green Party.
That should make Britons think twice, Lucas said. ''People should see the ship
as a little microcosm of all the major problems with world trade.''
''The thousands of tons of goods being delivered are items which once would have
been produced in Britain and Europe, but which are now made in China, where
exploitation of the labor market means we cannot compete on price,'' Lucas told
The Associated Press.
The ship's two-month voyage also highlighted concerns about the environmental
impact of transporting goods and food long distances, she said.
January 13, 2006
The New York Times
By MICHELLE HIGGINS
WHETHER it's providing a helicopter pad or
installing jade-inlaid marble in the master bedroom, William S. Smith III has
grown accustomed to satisfying every request from his custom-yacht customers -
except when it comes to finding places where they can park their outsized boats.
Many megayachts have grown so big - sometimes as long as a football field - that
their very size rules out docking at most marinas, which don't have large enough
slips to accommodate them. To combat the crunch, Mr. Smith, vice president of
Trinity Yachts in Gulfport, Miss., one of the top custom yacht builders in the
world, has begun to design vessels based strictly on where the owners plan to
take them.
"If an owner tells me he wants to be in St. Bart's on New Year's Eve, that means
he can't build over 200 feet," Mr. Smith said. "If they tell us they want to do
the Bahamas, which is relatively shallow, the boat can't have more than an
eight-foot draft - no matter what size."
More and more, limitations like these are frustrating the growing megayacht
crowd. In recent years, the production of these nautical behemoths, which range
from 80 feet to more than 200 feet and can easily cost as much as $200 million,
has been outpacing the availability of dockage long enough or deep enough to
accommodate them.
There are an estimated 7,000 motor yachts over 80 feet long in use, said Jill
Bobrow, editor in chief of ShowBoats International, a yachting magazine. That's
up from about 4,000 a decade ago.
"Boats are getting bigger and bigger," Ms. Bobrow said. "It used to be that 200
feet was big. Now the largest boats are 400 feet." Contracts for motor yachts
150 feet and larger increased 15 percent, to 118 from 103, in 2005, according to
ShowBoats International. Of those 118, 33 percent are more than 200 feet.
By contrast, there are roughly 440 marinas with berths big enough and water deep
enough to accommodate vessels 100 feet or bigger, according to Superports, a
British magazine that publishes an annual list of megayacht marinas. It is a
problem that has vexed Ira and Audrey Kaufman ever since they built their dream
boat, Gray Mist III, a 150-foot yacht fashioned after their home in Highland
Park, Ill. - complete with antique furniture, a working fireplace and a dining
table that seats 12 - about five years ago.
"Many places that we go to, you can't get in the marina because our draft is too
deep," said Mr. Kaufman, 77, a senior managing director at Mesirow Financial. He
ended up purchasing a dock slip at the Fisher Island Club, one of the few
Miami-area marinas that can accommodate such a large boat. He estimates his dock
slip would sell for about $7,000 a foot today. Most marinas have only a handful
of slips for these large vessels. And because boating is seasonal - with owners
typically heading to the Caribbean in the winter and the Mediterranean in the
summer - megayachts are constantly competing for the same dock space.
"There's so few marinas now that you can get a boat in," Mr. Kaufman said.
"There's not room." Without a spot at the dock, megayacht owners and their
passengers are relegated to dropping anchor off the coast and lowering a dinghy
to get ashore. But after spending untold millions on a yacht and used to getting
the V.I.P. treatment everywhere else they go, most owners prefer not to do so.
"A lot of times, it's first come, first served," said Chris McChristian, who is
working on his British captain's license and until recently worked as a pilot on
a 107-foot yacht, the Anne-Marie, whose owner Mr. McChristian declined to
identify. "If you get there and it's too tight, you'll go to a facility that's
not as good or be at anchor somewhere having to commute in by tender. With
owners, that's a very awkward position to be in." The megayachters, he added,
"like to step on and off the boat."
But all that is about to change.
IN an effort to capitalize on the megadollars that megayachts can bring to a
harbor area, coastal resorts around the globe are racing to build or retrofit
their marinas to accommodate the colossal cruisers. Nowhere is the pursuit more
pronounced than in the Caribbean, where there are still large chunks of
undeveloped shores, and in Florida, where a real estate boom over the last few
years has been fueling new waterfront developments.
From Miami to St. Thomas, new marinas with names like Super Yacht Harbor and
Yacht Haven are being developed with berths for boats as long as 450 feet,
roughly half the length of a 2,000-passenger cruise ship. To keep megayacht
owners busy - not to mention spending - while their boats are parked at the
marina, developers are surrounding their ports with high-end restaurants and
retail shops. To entice yacht owners and their entourages to stay longer, they
are also building luxury condominiums and five-star hotels.
As a result, a new real estate concept is beginning to emerge centered on the
lifestyle of the boating elite. Island Capital Group in New York is transforming
an existing port, Long Bay Harbor in St. Thomas, into a megayacht marina called
Yacht Haven Grande with 48 slips averaging 120 feet in length. Twelve luxury
condominiums, four waterfront restaurants, high-end shopping and a private yacht
club around the 32-acre harbor are scheduled to open in the fall.
In Miami, Flagstone Property Group is designing Island Gardens, a $480 million
development to be built on Watson Island, between downtown Miami and South
Beach. Island Gardens will include a 50-slip Super-Yacht Harbor for vessels up
to 450 feet, a Westin hotel and a Shangri-La Hotel, to open in 2008, offering
round-the-clock butler service. Shangri-La will also manage 105
fractional-ownership residences on the site and CHI, a 20,000-square-foot spa.
Developers believe the megayachts will be an inherent attraction, drawing other
visitors to the destination as well. "It's not only a place to visit for the
megayacht owners, but also a great opportunity for people to enjoy viewing the
megayachts," said Mehmet Bayraktar, chief executive of Flagstone Property Group.
"That's how places like Monaco and Portofino became famous. People want to get
close to that lifestyle."
Bigwig boaters who pull into these new marinas can expect white-glove treatment.
Uniformed dockhands will greet owners upon arrival, help bring boats in and
assist crews in obtaining provisions. The owner will be able to step off the
boat for fine dining or for a massage. A concierge office will be available to
arrange car services or sightseeing excursions.
Many port towns see these new developments as a way to increase the flow of
high-end tourists and help their economies with new jobs and revenue from
servicing the big boats that stop by - a 155-foot yacht can guzzle 16,000
gallons of gas at one fill up, for example - as well as pampering their owners.
In 2002, the average expenditure of a megayacht visit to boatyards in Broward,
Dade and Palm Beach Counties in Florida was $140,000, according to a report by
Thomas J. Murray, a marine business specialist at the Virginia Institute of
Marine Science at the College of William & Mary. The direct economic impact of
megayacht repair and maintenance projects at local boatyards was an estimated
$181.6 million.
Already, yacht owners and real estate investors are showing interest in the
houses and condominiums being designed around the harbors. The first phase of
construction at Cupecoy Yacht Club, a new marina development being built on St.
Martin by the real estate arm of Orient-Express Hotels, is not expected to be
finished until fall 2007. But 20 percent of its 169 planned condominiums sold
within two months of the project's announcement last year. Sales included
condominium units with one to four bedrooms and a penthouse for $1.3 million;
the sales generated $23 million in revenue.
Chub Cay Marina & Resort, a private island in the Bahamas that is being
redeveloped to expand a marina for megayachts, has sold roughly 75 percent of
its new 57 colonial-style villas and has raised the prices to $1 million to $3
million, from the $850,000 to $2.5 million range it had been charging. On West
Caicos, an 11-square-mile island in the Turks and Caicos where a new marina
resembling an 18th-century seaside village is planned, 15 of 30
Ritz-Carlton-branded condominiums have been sold.
For the most part, because the megayacht industry is still relatively new,
developers are taking an "if you build it, they will come" approach with the
marinas. In a few cases, megayachts have already shown up at unfinished
developments.
At West Caicos Reserve, there are no fuel, no restaurants and no hotel rooms yet
at the 12-acre harbor. But megayachts have already been stopping by.
"We don't know how they found us already," said Alan Lisenby, managing director
of Logwood Development Company, the developer of West Caicos Reserve. Because
the marina is not yet officially open or providing services, Logwood is not
charging the yachts for mooring in the harbor.
"Basically, we'll let them stay for free if we can take their picture," Mr.
Lisenby said.
Ellen MacArthur tells the story
of her record-breaking solo journey round the
world,
a remarkable tale
of endurance, fear, exhaustion and, ultimately,
exhilaration
as she battled against the sea
and the elements
08 February
2005
The Independent
Day 1, Monday, 28 November 2004
I feel relief to be over the line, relief to be going. I was so nervous and very
emotional even just seeing the guys in the helicopter above this morning... It's
going to be a tough one this, I can feel it.
Day 3, Tuesday, 30 November 2004
Right now we are on top of a low pressure system between the Spanish and
Portuguese coast. It's pretty windy and the wind is going to increase over the
next half hour. It's been a pretty painful night, quite light winds, trying to
get towards the low. We've been trying to get between the [areas of] low and the
high pressure but, unfortunately, we haven't been able to manage to do that as
quickly as we wanted.
Day 4, Wednesday, 1 December 2004
Right now our boat speed is just eight knots and I'm heading for the Canary
Islands. Can't leave the boat for five minutes without something happening -
hope it's going to stabilise soon... Dry mouth ... not eating properly yet ...
not totally got my head in to this ... going to try and fix the leak on the
fresh water tank to make myself feel happier. Problem is that with the wind
shifting all the time, I don't want to get stuck down below, as I keep having to
rush on deck to trim the sheets.
Day 8, Sunday, 5 December 2004
The Doldrums. It's unbelievably hot, and it's good to be on a multihull because
you're moving quickly and you've got a nice breeze over the deck but it's very
hot and humid. The cabin temperature is around 32C inside and 29C at night - it
takes a lot of your energy away.
Day 9, Monday, 6 December 2004
The sky is full of huge great big black clouds and there is no moon at the
moment which is even worse. I must have changed sails about six or seven times
during the night and goodness knows how many times during the day yesterday. My
body is OK but I'm losing a lot of fluids. I'm trying to drink a huge amount
because it's just so warm on board, particularly when I'm charging the
batteries. The cabin turns into even more of an oven - more like a sauna! I've
got lots of salt sores all over my hands and my arms, which appear when you get
sweaty for a long period of time. There's no escape from it, there's nowhere to
go. All the water around you is salty, you're salty, so your sweat is salty!
Day 10, Tuesday, 7 December 2005
Sometimes it just hits you. I was asleep in the cuddy (between the cockpit and
the cabin), and woke up and I know when I wake up that if I feel a bit funny,
that's not the time to push. You have to either get more rest, or do something
to take your mind off the enormity of it. I'm very pleased with the Equator
time, it's fantastic to always be ahead of the record but to cross the Equator
over 14 hours ahead of Francis was brilliant. We know it's still very early days
and although it's a good feeling to be ahead and cruising south with good
breeze, it's also a moment where you know it's just one of the milestones and a
lot could change between now and later, there's no doubt about it.
Day 12, Thursday, 9 December 2004
Still heading south in the South Atlantic and we're approaching a group of
islands called the islands of Trinidad. It's getting a little bit less hot which
is fantastic - now at 16 degrees south so it's not quite as tropical as it was a
few days ago. Didn't have a great night really - conditions were up and down a
bit and I was very worried about what's going to happen in the south because
we're going to have an absolute shocker. The closer you get, the more you
realise it's going to be pretty horrible and we're going to have to plunge south
pretty soon - we're going to be down at 40 degrees south before we know it, and
it's not the best zone for icebergs.
Day 16, Monday, 13 December 2004
I got some sleep this morning and some this afternoon, but I need more, I need a
lot more. I'm absolutely fried, last night was the absolute pits. I nearly had
to pull out. It was that close, I got to the stage where I couldn't breathe in
the boat, I couldn't charge the batteries, I couldn't make any water. I was
absolutely at my wit's end. The main thing is the fumes; the fumes from the
exhaust are now not coming into the boat, because they were the biggest issue as
I couldn't go anywhere in the boat without asphyxiating myself.
Day 17, Tuesday, 14 December 2004
The motto for today is "Sleep more, suffer less". I tried to engrave this on my
brain last night, and try with all my energy to sleep -easier said than done
sometimes, but, hey, we have to try. The sky is grey but I like that ... I
almost prefer it to the beating sun of the equator. The trials and tribulations
of the past few days seem miles away. Things are under control, and we're
heading south!
Day 18, Wednesday, 15 December 2004
Things are getting a little bit chilly and the water temperature has dropped
down to about 15C. The sky is very grey and the sun has disappeared - we're in
our first Southern Ocean depression. We're heading down there for a long time so
mentally things are changing - and physically things are obviously changing too
as it gets colder.
Day 19, Thursday, 16 December 2004
I feel different. I feel much better than I have been over the past few weeks, I
feel more positive. A little bit more cooler in the temperature ... I probably
feel more comfortable in the Southern Ocean than the Equator when it was so hot.
I'm sure that's going to change and I'm going to look forward to getting that
heater on as we go further south.
Day 20, Friday, 17 December 2004
We've got reasonable boat speed this morning and we've got good breeze. I'm
sailing along with blue skies which makes a huge difference after what we were
sailing in yesterday in the front of the depression. There's quite a few petrels
and albatrosses around. And we've just in the last hour dropped below 40 south,
so we're now officially in the Southern Ocean! The Indian Ocean is renowned for
its depressions which fly down off Africa. You have to be extra vigilant to see
what's coming and, obviously, try not to get stuck in something which is
particularly venomous.
Day 21, Saturday, 18 December 2004
It's like sailing over mountains. It's like driving an all-terrain vehicle very
fast over mountains. Sometimes you are coasting down the hills and other times,
you're fighting up the hills and that's just what it's like. Except that the
mountains are moving - you're always sliding along with the mountains. It is
absolutely spectacular and the seas really are big. Day 21 today and I've
finished my Week Three food bag. It will be Week Four next which is quite cool,
and when I finish Week Five we'll be half way round.
Day 22, Sunday, 19 December 2004
Right now, we're north-west of Marion Island, we're about 250 miles north of the
Antarctic convergence and we're heading just north of east at the moment. We're
ahead of Francis by nearly 24 hours after three weeks and it's good to have a
lead on him.
Day 24, Tuesday, 21 December 2004
The last 36 hours even in the storm were just mind-blowing! To be in such huge
seas and to see the power of nature - to be on an ocean that isn't flat in any
way, it's a mountain range! There is no horizon because the sea is going up and
down so much. It was an incredible experience and one that I wouldn't change for
the world despite the fact that it was very windy and slightly frightening at
times - it was just unbelievable. There is a storm coming which will hit us on
Christmas Day.
Day 25, Wednesday, 22 December 2004
I was a bit upset not to see the Crozet Islands yesterday and it doesn't look
like I'm going to get to see the Kerguluen Islands either. But you're very aware
of the islands as there are birds there and there is a lot more wildlife because
of them. It's all pretty special and it's great to be down here and feeling
those islands around us.
Day 26, Thursday, 23 December 2004
I am a bit shaken up after last night - it was a bit disturbed and it was pretty
hard to get some sleep and conditions were a bit all over the place. It was more
of a shock knowing that you had hit something [she describes it as a "living
object"] but the boat seems OK. I was very, very lucky. There is very little
time to even think about the fact that's its nearly Christmas Day and the fact
that I'll be missing my family. So perhaps concentrating on the boat and the
tactics is the best thing.
MacArthur spent the Christmas period battling huge storms and icebergs in
the Southern Ocean. She heard about the Asian tsunami on the radio but was
unaffected by any aftershocks
Day 36, Sunday, 2 January 2005
Just during daytime here, about four hours before sunset, I came across two
icebergs both to the north of me. The first was kind of triangular shape, quite
small, the second was significantly bigger and had several peaks to it. It's
pretty hard to judge how big they are but I guess they were the size of ships -
the second, the size of a large container ship. Obviously, the bergs are moving
from the south towards the north, that's why they are all here. That movement
has obviously continued - these bergs were pretty old, pretty melted and they
were literally sitting in a small corridor of colder water which was moving
south-north. I have crossed the dateline so I am now having 2 January again!
Day 40, Thursday, 6 January 2005
Yesterday was the worst day, with massive squalls, the same wind that was not
predictable. I sat there reading people's e-mailed encouragement, and quite
honestly cried.
Day 41, Friday, 7 January 2005
The support from you all writing in is just mind-blowing. I mean mind-blowing -
I am lost for words. I refresh the page each time I log on for the weather and
read as many as I can. You are unbelievable.
Day 44, Monday, 10 January 2005
Right now, as we approach Cape Horn I have been able to get a little bit of rest
but it's still been incredibly stressful. I think the hardest thing for me is,
because I push myself so hard, sailing the boat when she feels like she's not
going at 100 per cent. In the night we had some squalls, then we had some
lighter conditions, and I hesitated longer than I probably would have about
putting the sail up just because I was concerned about the squall and that's a
very, very stressful thing for me. If the boat's not sailing how she wants to be
sailed, I really, really struggle to rest.
Day 46, Wednesday, 12 January 2005
We passed Cape Horn after 7 o'clock today and we've got horrendous conditions.
Just before sunset yesterday evening I had to take the mainsail down. We've had
up to 50 knots - actually, 52 knots during the night. Again, we've had 52 knots
this morning and the seas are absolutely monstrous. This morning as it became
light, I realised these are certainly some of the biggest seas I've been in. I'm
looking out of the window and the sea to our port side is awash with white
water. There is a huge wave just broken next to us and there must be a 200sq ft
area of sea which is just foaming white water and then the next rough wave rolls
up behind and away we go on another crazy.
Day 52, Tuesday, 18 January 2005
The waves are right on the nose of the boat and we're getting thrown around
quite violently so it's not much fun at the moment. It will be nice to punch
through to the other side of this and actually start making some decent progress
to the north, albeit slow.
Day 56, Saturday, 22 January 2005
Right now, I feel achy, very, very tired and a bit relieved that we've got some
light winds just for a while to have a stable boat so I can recover a little bit
... I just, generally, feel absolutely empty - it has been a real struggle from
Cape Horn to here - every day has given us new challenges. The bad news is that
the next few days will be terrible - I've got three days of basically no wind
now so we will be going very, very slowly. We will almost certainly lose the
lead. Last night I spent at least two hours up on deck because there were ships
going past and I didn't want to go to sleep with the ships around.
Day 58, Monday, 24 January 2005
I'm hanging in there, bearing in mind that we'll be back in two weeks and if
we're not back in two weeks, it doesn't matter anyway. So I've got to hang in
there for two more weeks, that's the way I'm thinking and I'm trying to look
after myself the best I can. I am exceptionally tired, I'm pretty exhausted and
I'm fairly bruised. I've been up the mast again [to do a rig check], just this
morning, so I'm feeling pretty battered again. The record is definitely within
our sights - I'm not going to let go of that until the last second hand ticks
over, that's for sure. We've been working on this project for two years, I've
now been at sea for more than 50 days and now is not the time that I am going to
throw my hands up in the air and give up, no way. We're level with Francis -
we're not three days or five days behind him and we still have a chance.
Day 59, Tuesday, 25 January 2005
The South Atlantic is amazing, really, you couldn't wish for a more beautiful
place to be sailing in. We've got eight to 10 knots of breeze, a boat that is
slipping along at nine knots. We've got a beautiful moon - the most beautiful
moon I have ever seen. It's like perfection, but you struggle to appreciate it.
You don't get to live moments like this very often but the timing is not ideal
and that is what makes it difficult. And you worry all the time - will we get
stuck in the Doldrums for 36 hours? W hat does the northern hemisphere hold for
us? All these questions: so much rattles around in your head 24 hours a day.
Day 66, Tuesday 1 February 2005
I'm looking forward to having a feeling in my mind where I can switch my brain
off more than anything else.
Day 70, Saturday, 5 February 2005
The hardest part is that I know there is little resilience left. I am running so
close to empty that I believe it is only the energy from others that is keeping
me going. To put it briefly this trip has taken pretty much ALL I have, every
last drop and ounce. I chose to do this and I really don't need any sympathy
from anyone.
Day 72, Monday, 7 February 2005
The past 24 hours have been absolutely horrendous. It's been a very, very long
trip and an exceptionally hard one. I cannot believe it. I don't think until I
see faces again that itts really going to sink in. It's been an absolutely
unbelievable journey both physically and mentally. I'm absolutely overjoyed
The special circumstances which have attended the building of the battleship
Dreadnought brought to her launch today an atmosphere of excitement and
expectation. The great gangs of men, roaring their chanties and waving their
arms when she entered the sea, formed the right background for the ceremonial
finish.
The bow towered 30ft overhead and 20ft below the platform. The Dreadnought's bow
had the usual ram formation. The forecastle is cut away at each side, bearing
out the theory that the first pair of 12in guns will be mounted and two other
pairs a little aft on the upper deck, the cut-away allowing them to be fired
ahead.
A huge slice, 12in deep seemed gouged out of the hull right from bow to stern.
This is the space on which the protecting belt of armour will be riveted. The
sharp lines of the bow towered overhead, the perspective ran swiftly aft to the
cup-like bulge amidships.
Tremendous preparation had been made to ensure a safe delivery to the sea. The
massive cradle which held the ship in position was built of huge logs and held
in position by huge iron clamps riveted into the ship's side. The ways were
partly greased with margarine.
Very quietly, the King arrived at the appointed hour, leaning heavily on his
stick. His Majesty did not look in his usual health, and it was obvious that the
effort of speaking with his officers entailed considerable fatigue. Immediately
the King was seen there was a loud roar of welcome, the workmen hammering their
tools. The King walked into the little stall and grasped the flower-decked
bottle of wine. The wine trickled down the grey bows.
The enormous bulk that seemed as immovable as a cathedral made a sudden
perceptible little spring backwards and, as it seemed, upwards.
This changed at once to a sliding motion, and before the mind had conceived what
had happened one was looking down on another great field of faces where a second
before had stood this vast grey structure. The ship diminished sharply before
one's eyes. There came a roar of hurrahs, the first sounds of the band playing
"God save the King", tugs blowing their horns, the perfume of spilt wine and of
flowers.
The sunlight showed the king and his admirals saluting Britain's greatest
battleship, the waves flecking her monstrous sides.
[HMS Dreadnought, the first of a revolutionary
but financially ruinous breed
of battleship,
was powered by steam turbines,
with a top speed of 21 knots, and
carried 10 12in guns]
The latest voyage of Captain William A
Andrews, which was extensively advertised on both sides of the Atlantic, ended
ingloriously.
The whole enterprise, from first to last, has
been a series of disappointments. The original plan showed that Captain Andrews
was to be accompanied in his open boat voyage across the Atlantic by the
water-walker "Professor" Oldrieve, and an ocean swimmer.
But almost at the last moment Oldrieve met his death in other waters, and the
"swimming net" appears not to have survived publication.
Then, as many readers will remember, Andrews was to bring with him in his little
boat an American woman, Miss Belle Shane, 22 years of age.
Her baggage was to be limited to a comb, a tooth brush and a hand mirror.
Andrews set sail from Atlantic City, New Jersey. Why this person abandoned the
project is not clear.
His boat, a canvas-covered folding vessel, is sometimes spoken of in the owner's
leaflets and newspaper cuttings as the Phantom Ship.
The start was made in fine weather. In the course of former trips, Captain
Andrews had kept a log, but on this occasion he had felt indisposed to take so
much trouble.
He slept during the night, first setting the sails of his boat, and leaving her
to steer herself. "I can't account for my collapse," continued Andrews in
narrating his experiences.
"In this boat I was overcome.
"Whilst sleeping I believe I was asphyxiated - I think by carbonic gas from the
mineral water I had on board.
"When morning came I was dazed. Day after day I did not know anything. On the
27th of June I found myself alongside a steamer, the Camperdown. I did not see
her coming until I was within three feet of her.
"I suppose they had been talking to me but I had heard othing. I put my hand on
her and pushed off. After that - it seemed to me immediately after - I struck
the Bremerhaven, and I asked the captain the date. He replied, 'The first of
July.'
"When I realised that three days had intervened I concluded that there was a
wheel loose in my head.
"I seemed to get worse whilst sleeping, and sometimes I was actually unaware of
my existence. My feet and legs were swollen and I suffered in my throat and
stomach".
He felt the loss of his little boat somewhat keenly. He states that he rapidly
recovered his usual health aboard the Holbein. His intention had been to visit
the Paris Exhibition next year and there show the Doree as "the smallest ship
that ever attempted to cross the capricious Atlantic."
The power of steam has now completely changed
everything connected with naval polity.
The Rapid and the King of The Netherlands are
established weekly betwixt London and Rotterdam. These are both steam-boats, and
their arrivals can be so regularly calculated on, that the agents occasionally
take a boat down the Thames, from a certainty that their meeting with them will
not occasion the loss of a couple of hours.
By the way of Rotterdam, every letter from Russia, Prussia, Sweden, Denmark,
Flanders, and Holland may be received by steam with as much regularity as those
from Inverness, Portpatrick, or Falmouth.
The post office (having a monopoly of correspondence) should in justice direct a
steam yacht at Rotterdam or Helveotsluys, to receive twice a week all the
letters addressed to England from the north of Europe.
It is a fact that at present the expenses of the post office packets cost
government more than they reap. There are four stations, Gottenburg, Flanders,
and Helveotsluys for conveyance of the correspondence with England from the
north of Europe. The two steam yachts, the King of The Netherlands and the
Rapid, could deliver all the letters usually received by the media of these four
stations, at trifling expense to the government, and in a much shorter period,
generally, than any sailing vessel is capable of effecting.
The power and the advantages of steam have been well exemplified in his
majesty's late voyage to Scotland when the James Watt steam-ship absolutely drew
the Royal George sailing yacht to the Firth of Forth, leaving even frigates
twenty-four hours behind them.
From the capital of the Russian empire, by steam, the regular communication
could be reduced to ten days.
At present the regular course of post from St. Petersburg is twenty-one days.
From Paris the communication should be daily, for the two days in each week on
which French mails do not arrive are constantly supplied with information
received by private expresses, to the great detriment of the post office
revenues, and to the greater detriment of individual merchants.
From Spain, Portugal and the Mediterranean, all letters could be received by the
way of Lisbon, or Ferrol, in the short period of sixty hours, by steam packets
from either of these places to Falmouth.
So long as steam navigation is permitted by law, so long are the British
merchants injured by the post office not adopting this plan for the conveyance
of public mails.
