The match race between Ollie Heer (Tut gut) and Jingkun Xu (Singchain Team Haikou) continues but takes a slight twist today as their respective courses diverge at the Azores. The Chinese skipper has elected to go north of the island archipelago where stronger winds and bigger seas are predicted – up to 40kts and 10m seas – whilst the Swiss German sailor Heer is sticking to his safety first strategy.
Heer reported early this morning, “I have finally left the grip of the high pressure area a couple of hours ago and so I now have downwind conditions and the breeze is building and I am making good speed. I just made the decision to go south of the Azores. In terms of speed an ETA it does not make a big difference whether I go north or south as the routes join again just after the Azores but the sea state is significant in the north, we would see seven metres of swell whereas on this southern route I only see five so I will stay south and gybe in a couple of hours. "
Hanging in there
Antoine Cornic (Human Immobilier) is less than 100 nautical miles to Cape Finisterre this morning and has reaching conditions, 20-22kts of wind from just north of west. He is making steady progress, keeping focused and staying safe as he seeks to complete the final 500 miles or so across the Bay of Biscay to the Vendée and the finish line which he should reach on Thursday of Friday. He is likely to be quite slow across the final miles to the line as high pressure and light winds are set to prevail later in the week and so Cornic is going to have his patience tested. But completing the Vendée Globe has been a long held dream for the skipper who took 20 or so years out after racing the Mini Transat in his 20’s to pursue a career as a restaurateur on the Ile de Ré. The former French judo champion and rugby player has proven his strength of character on this personal odyssey and even though he has recently complained that he is finding the last week or so difficult, feeling so close to the finish and yet so far, he will stay the distance for sure.
And so a couple of days to go. I can’t wait to hit the finish line which I will hit together with Jacky which is nice. Yes, it would be nice to finish ahead of him, but honestly my number one goal has always been to not risk anything but to finish this race and I will stick to this strategy so I will take it quite easy. And the last couple of miles I still can’t use my keel on port tack and that will cost me a bit as there is some reaching to do on port between the Azores and Cape Finisterre and so I will be sailing a bit with the handbrake on in this area. I am enjoying my last week at sea and everything is going well.
Correspondingly at about 35 miles behind Heer, Jingkun explains,
I haven’t decided whether I’ll go north or south of the Azores yet, but the northern route seems more likely. At the moment, the low pressure systems are moving very quickly, so I’m keeping an eye out and monitoring the situation. Even after three months at sea, I haven’t really developed any particular habits. What I love most is the sunrises and sunsets. Every day, I observe the nature around me, the changing landscapes of the ocean, and this beauty makes me feel like time flies by. When I feel lonely, I think about my arrival. I imagine friends from all over the world coming to see me, the hearty meals waiting for me, and a nice soft bed where I can finally rest. These thoughts always give me hope and motivation to continue.
Denis across the Equator
And all of the remaining fleet are in the northern hemisphere now as Denis Van Weynbergh (D’Ieteren Group) crossed the Equator at 0507hrs UTC this morning. He crossed only 6hrs and 4 minutes behind Fabrice Amedeo (Nexans-Wewise). The last trio are less than 80 miles apart and emerging out of the Doldrums into the NE’ly trades.
Manu Cousin (Coup de Pouce) said this morning “The Doldrums are particularly complicated this time, much more active than what I have experienced before. I have crossed a good fifteen in my life, but this one is really tough! The sky is black, storms are breaking out everywhere, and torrential rain is falling relentlessly. We hardly have time to breathe, we have to stay on alert at all times. The exit is to the north, we know that, and the faster we get out, the faster we will be able to enjoy the northeast trade winds. In the meantime, it is almost an end-of-the-world setting. At times like these, I often think of the first sailors who faced these conditions without understanding what was happening, due to a lack of knowledge and weather maps. Already, with our satellites and our technology, it is far from simple, so without anything... Crossing the equator to return to the Northern Hemisphere is more than a symbolic milestone. It’s the return to an area that we know much better, to what we could call “our back garden”. It’s also the idea of going home. But be careful, we mustn’t relax: there’s still the equivalent of a transatlantic crossing to cover, and it’s not a walk in the park. That’s the psychological trap: we feel closer to land, to the end of the adventure, but we have to stay focused on each day. Otherwise, the remaining 15 or 18 days can become interminable.
Three months at sea is a long time. The boat suffers as much as the sailor, if not more. I inspect everything constantly, I monitor every detail to avoid unpleasant surprises. In the evening, I listen to the radio, especially sports broadcasts. It allows me to keep in touch with life on land, to stay connected to what’s happening outside, in the “real world”. When the solitude becomes heavy, I grit my teeth. I think back on all the progress I’ve made, on my loved ones, on my partners who believe in me and support me. This is a lifelong project, and I don’t have the right to give up. Even if, on a sporting level, I was hoping for a better result, I want to be proud of the work I’ve accomplished. I want to be able to look back and tell myself that I gave it my all.
And Fabrice Amedeo echoes the sentiments of Cousin who, like Amedeo, is looking to complete his second Vendée Globe,
“When you set off on a Vendée Globe, at first, you are carried away by the frenzy, the excitement of the land, the shouts, the goodbyes, the adrenaline of the start. But, gradually, you slip into long term mode. Because on the ocean, the days segue into each other, and this vastness of the ocean just ends up becoming another reality. It is dizzying to spend so much time at sea. You end up blending in, forgetting your usual marks. But now, with the finish line still far away, but getting closer all the same, the temptation is great to start counting the hours, the days, to calculate ETAs, to make plans on the comet. But that is a trap. An unbearable trap.”
“So, I try not to mark time. I learn to let it flow. To take each day as it comes, as I did in the South Seas, where each breath of wind, each wave dictated my pace. I focus on the essentials: my navigation, the pleasure of steering, of feeling the sails adjust perfectly to the wind.
This pleasure is crucial, because, honestly, it is not easy, psychologically, to be at the back, to see others advance, arrive before me.
The key is resilience. Not to let yourself be overwhelmed by frustration. I remain focused on my objective. However, I do not regret anything. Not a single moment. What I have done, what I have experienced, I would not trade it for anything in the world. Yes, it is difficult. But it is also what makes personal victory even more precious. So, I hang on. Until the end.
