TJV: It's a wrap
It’s amazing how quickly the scene changes in this crazy Vendee Globe journey.
Just four days ago I was dizzy and jubilant from finishing the Transat Jacques Vabres race, 24 hours before that focused, hot and tense dealing with a nail biting final drag race to the line. And now I’m frustrated, stuck waiting for the second day for my paperwork to be cleared; pacing the floors, chewing my fingers and tapping my feet. I am desperate to leave Brazil, turn left up the Atlantic and set my sails for home and the next phase in the campaign.
As I have been involuntarily grounded I guess it’s a chance to share with you all the story of our race and my final thoughts before the moment has really gone.
The TJV was my 17th Atlantic crossing and my fourth time crossing the equator but the race in no way felt any less significant than the others. To sail from France to Brazil is an epic thing to do no matter how experienced you are but this race was super special for me, it was my first transat in an IMOCA and it was also a ‘dry run’ for the first 4000 miles of the Vendee Globe Race which will pretty much take the same route next year.
When we eventually crossed that start line on 27th October I was emotionally and physically exhausted and relieved. The build up to this race had been a battlefield. I’ve made a point on not sharing my doubts and demons too often but the combination of losing my co-skipper three weeks before the race as well of the stress of delivering this whole project as a one woman team seemed at times to present insurmountable hurdles. I had a couple of days where I would open my eyes in the morning and just feel like I couldn’t take anymore. I doubted if I had the strength to keep moving forwards.
But I did move forwards. I never believed that this race would not happen and I have always understood that the only way to get out of the mud is for me to pick up one foot at a time and walk. And so with two weeks to go I found my co-skipper Ysbrand, then with one week to go my amazing friends descended on the boat in Le Havre and helped me prepare for her biggest race yet. Crossing the start line was a great victory.
The first week of our race was technically easy, the weather was gentle for a Biscay exit and the passage down to Finisterre fairly straight forwards. We recovered from a poor start and found ourselves a good position in the fleet. We had to sail with caution, Ys was still fairly new to the boat and I was super aware of the consequences of early damage; as the final piece of my Vendee Globe Qualification it was going to be essential that I finished this race. Damaging the boat through pushing too hard would have far reaching consequences. SuperB is strong but she is tired, I have raced and trained in her for a full year and she is ready for her refit.
Our passage down the Portuguese coast was not the best. The weather situation was tricky and I didn’t have a clear plan for what to do. I think I had been so focused on just getting the start out of the way, before the race I had not been paying attention. I had naïvely or maybe hopefully thought the route through the high pressure would show itself once we had reached Finisterre, but of course it did not and I did not have a plan and was too tired to think strategically. So through lack of decision making we lost some places. It was a difficult medicine to take and a hard mistake to admit to, but I know how I can do better. This will not happen again.
In a way though being behind when we left the Canaries was not a bad thing; maybe the pressure was off, we were trailing the fleet and that was the worst that would happen. Receiving news of the MASCF hitting a rock at the start and Hugo Boss losing their keel I felt that just getting to the finish with my old boat in one piece would not be so bad. Sure my pride would be hurt but I sometimes need to reality check myself on expectations: just remember….. old boat, tiny budget, less than one year racing in class IMOCA…. Go on Pip, just give yourself one tiny break.
But as Ys and I became more comfortable sailing Superbigou so we both started to naturally push. Yes we could have stayed in our position, flying a smaller more manageable spinnaker, keeping the pressure off, not daring to believe we might be able to pull back those 157 miles we had lost. But each of us is curious, we love to push, we love to know and naturally we started to pick up the pace, adapting our style and effort. Forgoing easy nights with the pilot for hand steering one hour on one hour off, picking our way through the stars and the waves, riding the fine line between should we, just enough and too much.
Initially we did not look at the tracker. Ys wanted to but I didn’t want our sailing style to be dictated to by others. I needed to know that we were pushing hard because we wanted to and because we believed we had learned how to do it well not because we were desperate to claw back some miles.
When I eventually acquiesced and we checked in on the rest of the fleet the gains were incredible. First we made up 40 miles, then every time we logged on the split got smaller. We powered ahead of Un Monde Sans Sida and all of a sudden from such a way behind there was Alexia and Joan; we had a race on our hands as we entered the doldrums.
The rest of the TJV was just awesome. Being so close to 4myplanet; within sight much of the time, battling for every mile, first them then us. It made the race for us. We pushed we drove we never gave up living every second of every minute.
On the final day it was anybodies race. As the sun rose 4myPlanet were ahead and we were determined to take their place. The battle raged throughout the day and eventually with our bigger spinnaker we pulled ahead managing to finish this 4350 mile course just 11 minutes ahead of the other boat and in 24th position. What a finish for us both. Ys and I sailed our socks off as did Alexia and Joan.
I was riding the high of arrival for two solid days after landing in Salvador. These last three weeks have been my sanctuary, my escapism from the hard graft of the year. I immersed myself in the race, gave myself permission not to think about the rest of my campaign.
This is what I was born to do and it is an absolute privilege and pleasure to be able to devote all of my energy into racing one of these magnificent boats.
Two days ago though I crashed back to this planet. The Vendee Globe Race is less than a year away and there is so much more to put in place to help me deliver the best imaginable campaign. From Brazil now and from my boat in the next three weeks while sailing home I need to get back on the programme, making sure everything is in place for my refit, keeping up with the search for funding, looking ahead to all that needs to be in place for a full on solo year in 2020.
I hope to set sail tonight for the UK. With an aim to be back and to lift the boat out before Christmas. We need to be safe and cautious not to break anything but I need to sail quickly to make the most of the little time that we have. SuperB just has to look after me for one more Atlantic and then she will get all the love she deserves. Emerging fighting fit and sleek in the New Year ready to take on the world once again.