Baptism by water – when one small mistake nearly leads to disaster

Tonight I was taught the lesson of the snowball effect from one small action I forgot to do while gybing yesterday. Cut to the end of the story, I woke up at 5.15, having over-slept my alarm, lying in a pool of water on the floor and the boat going slowly with not enough sail in the air.

When Medallia joined my team in June as title sponsors, the first thing I did was invest in the boat. I was already committed to taking part in the race and had built an incredible family of sponsors around me who were making my bare bones entry a reality. I had gained the skills, the miles, the qualification to race in a boat that was tired and at times problematic. But we did it with what we had, all the while building a wish-list of kit that I thought would help with reliability and therefore performance. And somewhere near the top were hydro generators.

For those not familiar with them, hydrogens are like outboard engine legs that you drop over the back of the boat and as the speed of the boat drives the propellers, so they generate electricity. They're nothing short of brilliant. I haven't had mine on the boat that long. We installed them at the end of August, have done quite a bit of testing but nothing like the hours I have just put them through in this first week. I'm happy with them.

It's taken me 11 years to learn my craft of solo sailing. 11 years of following process, learning manoeuvres, being meticulous and attending to details. Sometimes I don't need to think, other times I need a list to make sure I do things right. This is the first time I have raced a boat with hydrogens and I keep forgetting they are there during manoeuvres. Twice in the first week I tacked with the legs still down. No damage done, but I tried to make it stick in my head to lift the things.

Yesterday was a big day, Didac and I went storm chasing! (Well sort of it was more like storm following at a safe distance and when the big gust came, I gybed and ran away). We both saw an opportunity to get south by jumping onto the back of storm Theta and then sailing into bigger breeze, only getting as far towards the centre as was comfortable then gybing back out again. It went well and it was a lot of fun being neck a neck with both this sailor and his boat. I raced Didac in the mini transat in 2011, we both had pogo 2s and Kingfisher his boat was of course the boat that Ellen MacArthur came 2nd in the VG in 2001.

When the barometer had fallen as much as I dared, I gybed to stay out of the stronger winds and here my story started. I forgot to pick up the hydrogen leg, the gybe was good (always a heart pounding moment in over 25 knots) but the lazy sheet flapped its way free, went under the back of the boat and instantly wound itself around the still running hydrogen prop. Hmmmm. 30 mins later and I have the rope and the hydrogen back on board but have broken a blade. (At this point we salute Joff who manages my boat and put spare blades on board because he knows this stuff). I can swap the blade today in the lighter airs and anyway I was on the other gybe so I use the other hydrogen (I have one on each side of the boat).

After 3 or so hours my other one was making a strange noise. I head to the back of the boat and discover that the pull-down rope holding it in place has shredded so I am trailing the leg along behind me in the water and there is no way to secure it in position to generate power. Again, an easy fix but not one when you are surfing at 23 knots.

So, it's all ok, Medallia is flying, I am loving life but the batteries are low and I now don't have a useable hydrogen to top them up. At 2.30 this morning I decided I needed to run the engine to charge the batteries and while I was at it I may as well run the water maker to top up my fresh water supply. At 3 am I decided to have a half hour nap - I was / am exhausted. It's a permanent state I need to manage but yesterday was a big day, I didn't sleep, I could see an opportunity to make some miles and I took it...… and I was having fun.

I guess it was the heat and the noise from the engine. I slept like a baby, didn't hear my alarm, the watermaker, dutiful soldier that it is, kept making water, all the way out of the top of the tank, all over me, lying next to it on a beanbag on the floor. I woke up with water sloshing around my head on my beanbag island. I looked at the time, swore a lot, scrabbled to my feet and so the crazy world begins again.

Now back in the saddle, full main up, sails trimmed, water baled (it's fresh water so let’s call it my weekly spring clean), bean bags are very soggy and hanging up to dry in the hot engine room and I am drinking tea and eating breakfast looking at what the next 24 hours will look like and adding to my job list. I am still coasting south on the last of the Theta breeze but that will die out later today so every mile matters. It's about 15-20 knots of wind out there from the NW and the pilot is still managing the odd cheeky surf on left over waves.

I was disappointed in myself when I woke up. All of this was preventable, I made extra work for myself and put the whole race at risk through not being able to generate power. But I've had to finish kicking myself... that takes time and quite frankly I don't have any room in my busy schedule today.

I've written myself a message on the way out of the hatch; maybe that will help. How many messages am I going to need to fit up there?


Pip