Driving down the A34 towards the Hamble, the trees bent over in the wind, the shipping forecast warned of winds force 5 to 6 with occasional force 7 in Wight, Portland and Plymouth.  There was no mention of the wind dropping.   I made a mental list of things I didn’t really fancy doing this weekend; number  1, flying the spinnaker in winds above 30 knots, number 2, broaching in afore-mentioned wind, number 3, going onto the foredeck to get sails down in a big sea, number 4, being sea sick.

So when I arrived at the dock, to hear the debate centring on which spinnakers to take, it was the first I had heard that the wind was forecast to drop towards Sunday.  Welcome news.

With the direction forecast, the plan was a single fetch to the Rock with a fast spinnaker run home.  So after the start, we made ourselves comfortable on the rail in the expectation of being there for at least 12 hours, if not longer.  Playing Around stayed low heading for Portland, hoping to round the Bill before the tide changed inshore against us.  So far, so good.  The wind was dropping, so the first sail change was called.  The wind dropped to a mere 8 knots.  Was there more inshore?  Was it NW inshore? Was this just a shift or a permanent change in direction?  Boats took different decisions and the fleet spread out across Lyme Bay.  The wind filled in quickly rising to 20 knots, another sail change.  The sea was big, I was on the foredeck pulling down sails, number 3 on my list ticked off.

It had now become a beat to the Rock with attention focusing on trying to read the shifts.  It felt as if the fleet were ahead of us as the sun dropped and the temperature fell.  Dinner was good though, piping hot meatballs with rice, sitting on the rail.  With the race now forecast to be longer than originally anticipated we split into a watch pattern, but not until another sail change.  At midnight, our watch was back on deck.  I spent too long down below changing and came up feeling queasy.  I focused on the horizon scanning for lights and boats to avoid.  To no avail, I don’t want to have those meatballs again, number 4 was ticked off my list.  A banana and a bottle of water later and I felt like a new woman.  Start point lighthouse seemed never to move and the time to the Rock edged further away.  We were relieved from our watch and settled into our bunks in the certain knowledge that someone, Sarah, would be needed on deck as we rounded the Rock to hoist the spinnaker.  Sleeping through the rounding I was aware that we were now sailing downwind as the movement of the boat settled.

Waking up was hard, prising myself out of the warmth of my sleeping bag even harder.  The spinnaker was flying and the reality of 25 knots of breeze with the spinnaker up was fast.  The run home should be quick with speeds averaging 10.5 knots.  Looking around, there were few other boats and it was hard to gauge our position in the fleet.  The wind was increasing, as was our maximum speed on the waves.  12 knots became common place with a new maximum of 14 knots.  Keeping the boat under control under these conditions was challenging for the helmsmen with all weight needed at the back of the boat.  As the gusts increased to 30 knots, the smaller spinnaker was called for.  With 2 crew on the foredeck for the sail change, the boat broached, numbers 1 and 2 on my mental list ticked off.  In fact that was all 4 on the list, what was left?  A letterbox drop and a smaller spinnaker, everything felt more manageable.  Speeds were fast and a new maximum of 15 knots caused whoops of excitement amongst the crew.  Or was it 15.4?

We were further inshore than the rest of the fleet, we watched as others lost spinnakers, relieved to have survived a single broach, the kicker breaking and being repaired.  The biggest problem surely was the loss of the flapjacks overboard during the broach.  Still unsure of our position in the fleet, we were aware of eating up the miles as we crossed Lyme Bay.  Dinner in the pub became more than a possibility.  A gybe was called for.  An addendum to my list perhaps?

The wind and waves felt different on the new gybe.  A crash gybe, another broach and another gybe weren’t even items on my list.  The spinnaker stayed up a while longer before changing down to the Jib top foresail.  Gusts increased to 34 knots and the maximum speed of 15.4 knots, though never repeated became less impressive than a sustained speed above 12 knots.

12 hours and 15 minutes after rounding the Eddystone Rock and 125miles later, we crossed the finish line. Time enough for another shower and dinner in the pub, surely?