Loco

Having just published Kate’s email, I wanted to show you where in the world she is, and how incredible technology is.

Not only have we been able to receive emails from the boat for the last three weeks (read them all here), but the level of detail we can see with Googlemaps and the satellite tracking the boat is amazing.

I’ve started fully zoomed out so you can see that they are in the middle of the Pacific:

Now here’s one showing the island that they’re anchored next to:

And finally here’s the really amazing one:

Note that the boat didn’t actually sail right across the island as the blue line suggests! The reason it goes across is because the satellite takes a reading every day or so and then draws a straight line between two points.

Thanks of course to Google for making all this possible. If you want to have a play around yourself, you can do so here.

Kate has been at sea on a yacht in the Pacific Ocean for the last 24 days after leaving from Mexico bound for Australia. She wrote this yesterday off the coast of Nuka Hiva, the largest island in French Polynesia.

Sailing half way around the world is not quite as exciting as it sounds. Forget the great piratical rambustifications of Kate ‘aaarrrgghh me harties’ Andrews, a daring tale of mystery and intrigue full of swashbuckling pirates and hidden treasure. The reality was a rather bizarre mixture of the surreal and the mundane; think 10 things to do before you die meets Good Housekeeping magazine.

I’ve done some things that most people only dream of, from sailing across the Equator with a glass of fake champagne, to showering in a rain storm and barbecuing steaks off the back of the yacht while drifting through the Doldrums. I’ve seen more flying fish and dolphins than you can shake a stick at (this was hindered only by the fact that I didn’t have a stick to hand), but most importantly, I survived. All this excitement, however, was on the good days…

A 24 day ocean crossing leaves plenty of time for boredom to set in. After all, the fact that you can’t see land is only interesting for the first few minutes. After that, well you just can’t see land, or indeed anything, except sea and sky, sky and sea, one or the other, or both, depending on the direction you look, riveting I know. So in order to keep boredom at bay and to preserve my sanity I became a model housewife.

I’ve cooked, cleaned and baked bread, I’ve mended holes in my clothes and done my washing in a bucket. Short of darning socks and bearing children I’ve been a perfect 1940s stay at home mother. So if you’ve thought of me with even a shred of envy at any point during the last 3 weeks you can console yourself with the knowledge that while I was sailing across an ocean in true environmental warrior style, there is also a good chance that I was cleaning a toilet.

This is not to say that the voyage thus far has been without excitement. Let me paint you a picture (yes, another one): imagine you are doing something very ordinary, like for instance cleaning your teeth, now imagine that the entire world is tipped on a 45 degree angle and is rocking back and forth, sending you flying around the small bathroom, toothpaste all over your face. The only solution is to hang on for dear life on anything that you can get your hands on, perhaps the shower curtain, the result of which is you, arms in the air, hips thrusting, staggering all over the place like some kind of possessed upside down weeble wobble. For those of you who don’t remember the timeless egg man toy that never falls over, all you need to know is that I looked like an idiot.

Now take sleeping, something that we all take for granted, the simple primordial act of laying your head on the pillow and shutting your eyes, drifting into a calming dream of tropical breezes and gentle lapping waves. Except that this sea is not calm, it a bastard evil demon of doom that is hellbent on keeping you awake at all costs. You might just get comfortable in one position and starting drifting off when all of a sudden you find yourself rolling down the boat, slamming into whatever obstacle lies in your paths.

Some nights I actually went to the extreme measure of using elastic bungy cords to secure myself to my bed. Great for the stomach muscles, not so good for sleeping. And that’s not even mentioning the noise, water sloshing, boat creaking, ropes whipping, head banging. Pissed off is an understatement. I have never in my life been so irritated by inanimate objects; I have called the sea a wanker, the cupboard door that will not stopping banging a loser, and the fridge, ah the fridge that just won’t stay closed, milk carton falling out every time you open it, well I’ve called it several things, none of which are suitable for your innocent little ears.

And as for the sailing part of this expedition you will be happy to read that I have learnt the basics of how to make the wind blow us in the right direction. I have not unfortunately climbed any rigging, but I have scrubbed the deck and I do intend to shout “land ahoy” when we finally see some later today. But on a daily basis there isn’t really much to do. If the wind blows at the same speed from the same direction for 48 hours then all you ever have to do is press a button every once in a while on the autopilot.

As the least experienced member of crew I often left the sailing business to the more salty sailors and I earned my keep with the aforementioned bread making. And when I wasn’t busy playing house I was left to consider the important things in life, the questions that mankind has struggled with since time began, like whether fish have eyelids, and at what point I simply won’t be able to get any more tanned.

I also realised, during my many hours of reflection that this voyage was a great opportunity for the men aboard our vessel to experiment with comedy facial hair. How often do you get the chance to try out a Craig David look, or a Gandelf for that matter (I think he had a beard, if not then the one in my imagination at least is impressive) without the judging eyes of civilisation looking on? However, I am sad to report that my encouragement fell on deaf ears and none of them took up the challenge. I have grown my eyebrows into a new style but you wouldn’t know it to look at me, and anyway it’s just not the same. A wasted opportunity I say, wasted.

All in all the trip so far has not be especially exciting, but all this is about to change as we are a mere 100 nautical miles from Les Marquises, our first stop of many. Once I’ve finished writing this, I will go and sit on deck staring at the horizon until my beloved land comes into sight. Apparently land has a particular smell, I’m not convinced about that one but I’ll let you know. So this time tomorrow I will be doing a different kind of staggering, thanks to the legendary land sickness that often follows long periods at sea. And I will be staggering first, towards a bar because I really really want a cold beer, second, to somewhere that sells ice cream, and third, well frankly, I might just lie on the floor and appreciate the stillness.

If you’re reading this then it means I made it to land and have found my way to an internet café, I’ve had rather a lot of time on my hands so it’s all sort of poured out of me. In summary it was about boats, and beards and bastard things that go bang. So now I am landed for four of five days before we set sail again, this time to Tahiti. But the longest leg of the journey is finished, and if we keep this speed up we should be in Oz before the end of June, bring it on!

P.S. land smells like wet trees and reminds you of everywhere you’ve ever been. It’s weird that I’ve never noticed before. And another important piece of news is that the locals here are covered in mad tats, warrior style, don’t let anyone ever tell you that tattoos aren’t cool.

We’re within spitting distance of the Marquises as I write to you, making a night time entry to drop anchor somewhere off the coast in a sheltered bay. I’m very happy to be here but somehow feel a little underwhelmed, I wonder if there’s something wrong with me, I’ve just crossed another Ocean, the largest in the world, and my second in under a year, yet somehow it doesn’t feel like a very big deal. Funny that. Oh well. Strange that my entire adventure thus far just seems a bit incidental (is that the word I mean?) like this is all very normal or something, not quite sure about that one. I’ve had too much time to think lately, revelations pending.

We won’t actually make it to land tonight as that will require blowing up the dinghy and motoring in (this is because there is are only anchorage points here no Marina) but tomorrow I should be putting my feet on dry land for the first time in over 20 days. I will be on the phone faster than you can say Skype. So I will be on land for my birthday, bonus!

Anyway, I’d better go as I’m half way through cooking dinner.

Kate xxx

I wrote that a few hours ago and it hasn’t been sent yet so I thought I’d add a little update. Consider me whelmed. As we approached land I suddenly understood what everyone has been talking about, it does have a smell, like a forest, wet and fresh. And totally bizarre as it seemed to conjure a thousand memories at once. We are now at anchor and I am experiencing the very weird sensation of not moving, not rocking back and forth like a bloody pendulum, although if I shut my eyes I can still feel the rocking motion, like how the beat lingers in your ears after a rave.

The bay is nice and sheltered and we have just enjoyed a celebratory drink in the calm sea. We’ll head for land first thing but I have the distinct impression that I wont be able to sleep tonight as I am now very excited. I’m going to take advantage of the calm and sleep tonight so that as soon as I open my eyes I can the island in all it’s glory. For now I’ll have to be content with staring at shadows. From what I can tell Nuka Hiva has a pretty dramatic landscape, and a very tiny town. So excited!

Sadly I did not get the opportunity to swim across the equator, not due to fears of being swept away as we were cruising at the dare devil speed of less than 2 knots, but due to the fact it was dark. Adventurer I may be but idiot I am not, at least with the benefit of daylight I might have seen the sharks coming. The Ocean looks awfully big when it’s black like oil and eerily calm so I chickened out. Talking of wildlife, we have seen almost nothing since the pods of dolphins we saw off the coast of Mexico right at the beginning of the voyage. Apart from the occasional bird and schools of flying fish we are sin wildlife. If I were am American I would sue David Attenborough for false advertising. Apparently there’s a good chance we’ll see some more stuff when we near land. I hope so.

I am a sleepy sailor today, having done the 8-10 last night my brain kept me awake until gone midnight then I was back on 2-4am. And then, as if your prayers were answered, we got wind at 5am, fast, boat rocking, bed shaking, sleep depriving wind. So we’re moving along at a good speed but I am tired as a badger.

That’s all for now, if all goes well we’ll be on the Marqueses (which I consistently spell wrong so check it if it’s in the blog) in a few days. Please please please please (James Brown style).