Closing in on the Horn
Tempestuous weather and big seas abating during the day.
"The sea had risen, the vessel was rolling heavily, and everything was pitched about in grand confusion. There was a complete “hurrah’s nest”, as the sailors say, “everything on top and nothing at hand”.
- Richard Henry Dana. “Two Years Before the Mast”
And then, it caught us. Stormy weather, blustery conditions.
Rounding Cape Horn is challenging us while we get closer and closer.
Waves are steep and high.
The northwesterly wind blows strong and continuous gusts hit the ship during the grey and rainy early hours of the journey.
3, 5, 7 metres. The seas grow.
35, 40, often 50, 55, a gust up to 65. The gale-force wind hits.
8, 9, 11 kn. We speed up towards our goal, we dip the decks, the ship rides the swell, pitching and tossing in the following wind and chaotic sea.
All outdoor watertight doors are closed; water splashes and smashes from one side to the other of the decks. An occasional wave breaks against the port side, washing up all the way to the Poop, Sloop and Fore decks.
Outside, all is tight and secured as much as we could manage in those conditions. Indoors is another story. Clothes, boots and the necessary stuff to dress up and join for a demanding time focusing at the wheel or doing lookouts are sort of spread all over. It takes a while to find this rebel sock hiding in an unimaginable corner or that jacket buried under tons of foul-weather gear hanging along the hallway.
The galley is another world too. A most trying situation to cook a good meal or to do dishes. Nevertheless, breakfast is served; amazingly, there is a tasty good soup for lunch and a delicious dinner. Although some plates and mugs did not withstand the test and flew around breaking into pieces, there are still enough for all.
The rig is now arranged to brave the pretty wild conditions just under topsails and a couple of lower staysails with their sheets doubled on the starboard side.
Cape Horn is paying good tribute to its dreadful reputation, giving us the roughest bit so far. And looking ahead at the forecast, it is promising a properly demanding rounding.
And then, it freed us. The sky clears up, the sun shines, just now and then darkened by fast-passing squalls carrying rain and even sleet. The wind drops to a more comfortable speed of around 30 kn while gradually backing more to the west. Decreasing wind brings abating sea and swell too.
During the most severe conditions we faced in the early hours of the day and halfway through the morning, even the seabirds around us had almost disappeared, but it just takes a bit of time after the worst has passed for them to be seen again. Using their incredible navigation skills, they seem to have avoided the worst of the weather, and then they are showing up again in larger numbers afterwards.
Birds are back, wind is steadier though blowing in the high 30s of knots. A good time to set the Fore Course and keep a good speed towards Cape Horn.
While yesterday (in better conditions though with the sea state growing and wind gradually picking up), we sailed 173 nm (170 in a straight line), having in front of us 366 to go and 4,699 left behind, today, in a combination of stormy weather and easier conditions as the journey went on, we are 197 nm closer to Cape Horn.
The 11th of October was the day we set foot on the Europa, right on the opposite side of the largest ocean in the world, the Pacific. Today, 10th November, the legendary rock lies 171 nm ahead of us. Behind us, 4,897 nm of open oceanic waters since we departed.
Cape Horn is now at close range. Our journey doesn’t end yet. Once we sail around the Cape, we still have to change course and sail many more miles to reach 50° S in the South Atlantic Ocean. Now to our starboard side extends the Drake Passage, 500 nm of treacherous waters to Antarctica.