smashing the course record
Caribbean 600 Race (Day 6) - Barbuda to Redonda to Antigua
Suffice to say, we will be adding “set course record for Caribbean 600” to our sailing CVs. Nobody needs to know that it’s for the longest elapsed time ever.
However, this small victory is tinged with deep sadness. We are mourning the untimely loss of a dearly valued member of our crew. Her last adventure was in pursuit of whales dancing alongside Argonaut. And she fought nobly until the end.
Rest in peace, Richard’s drone.
To console ourselves, we relied upon our usual crutches: plentiful rum and lighting the braai. We threw everything we had left on the braai, up to and including the teak which has been broken off the decks.
Whilst preparing braaibroodjies, Lieneke requests (several times) that we keep Argonaut less heeled over so that the ingredients don’t fly across the saloon again.
Lieneke: “I’m losing everything, including my patience!”
Boat speed is evidently of the utmost priority.
We are nearing Redonda. By this point, unsurprisingly, we are the last boat on the water, with every other competitor having already finished or retired altogether. But we are still out here having fun. James is managing to fly the symmetric spinnaker at 110 true, 60 apparent. He is beaming. As is Charles who, as we drop the kite, is helming with just a towel on. It seems we have all adjusted to Caribbean time.
We joke about doing a second lap, the inaugural Caribbean 1200. We are curious to see what the course would be like if we actually had some wind. And this is not entirely a joke. There is some level of longing for it. We have enough food and a water maker, so why stop? That question was answered as soon as we sampled some of the 90 days worth of dehydrated meals. In true Argonaut fashion, they are funky - ostrich lasagne, eland stroganoff, and kudu bolognese to name a few. But that’s not quite the problem.
Sam: “This tastes a bit like paint.”
Ben: *tries some* “I thought you were exaggerating.”
Charles: *now curious, also tries some* “Oh my God, that is f***ing brutal, it’s like terpentine.”
If we had been forced to endure those dehydrated meals for six days, then I’m pretty sure we would have retired.
Lieneke is tired, so has proposed a late retirement, with 7 nautical miles to go.
“Do we really have to go through the finish line?” - Lieneke
And just like that, it’s over. We have finished. And, eerily, it’s almost exactly to the minute that James’ routing predicted a week ago. And yet, as pleased as we are to finally make it over the finish line, the mood over the last few hours has been somewhat melancholy. Because we don’t want it to end. Our days have been filled with awe-inspiring scenery, non-stop laughter, and the company of some weird and wonderful people who I sense will become lifelong friends. I haven’t stopped smiling since I set foot onboard Argonaut. My heart is full. And although this first chapter has now come to a close, I am consoled by the promise of many more Argonaughty adventures to come.
Photo: Royal Ocean Racing Club (RORC)