Day 48 – Frustrating Headwinds

 Hi everyone,Welcome to day 48 of our voyage. Today has been another one of those days when we have just had to battle against strong headwinds and as much as would like to be able to do something about it the reality is that we can’t and regrettably reading the current forecast we still have got another 24hrs of it to go.Despite these conditions the World Voyagers have still kept busy writing letters to themselves which will be posted to them in six months time. Also there are always watches to be kept sails to be set, yards to be braced and a number of other things that keep the Ship running.Writing tonight’s log is Kirra and Vicky who both reflect on their time onboard, please enjoy!Until tomorrow, take careYours AyeCaptain GavCaptains Log: 10June15Kirra & VickyJune 10th, 2015. Not a lot has happened. Watches have been kept as per usual, Pip was our Sailmaster, there were some climbs, some spews, the standard fare in the galley, naps, letter writing and singing. All in all, a bit of a nothing day.…It’s funny how quickly this has become our normal life. Realistically, today was an adventure! We’re sailing up the English Channel, smashing head on into swells that have been three meters high. There’s been waves crashing over the bowsprit and their spray has reached well past the bridge. We’ve climbed thirty five meters up the masts, rocking wildly from side to side, and bow to stern, barely managing to hold on to the ratlines, and not quite managing to hold onto our lunches.We’ve helmed (steered) a twenty two million dollar vessel, kept lookouts through a dangerous channel of water, put navigational fixes on our charts and done thorough rounds below decks to maintain the safety of the ship. We’ve braced the yards back and forth to keep them at the best angle for the wind, taken over the role of Watch Officer and Watch Leader and managed to safely and competently run all aspects of the ship that we were charged with today. We’ve sat in the Challenger Room, only noticing the VHF radio because it felt so strange to be hearing English communications again, after weeks and weeks of garbled foreign language from all sorts of European and African vessels all through the Mediterranean, and noted passing French and British warships off the starboard quarter as if it were a perfectly normal daily occurrence.When our WO’s and Watch Leaders have called for sails to be set or furled, for yards to be braced, to tack or ware ship, instead of the initial freeze/panic/confusion/general deer-in-headlights moment that followed a call in the first days and weeks aboard, it’s now second nature. Our crew is safe, efficient and well drilled in all the aspects of sailing required for us to man this vessel.We’ve nearly managed to take this beautiful ship all the way home to the United Kingdom where she was built twenty eight years ago. This will be the first time she’s returned since leaving for Australia in 1987, and every person on board is excited and honoured to be given the opportunity to take her back to greet her architect, Colin Mudie who will be meeting us alongside in Southampton.Pip, a thirty year old engineer from Melbourne took on the role of Sailmaster today, planning out the schedule and running the show for the entire ship, going by the name of Celebrity Sailmaster Pirate Pip. The crewies cheered her on during morning brief, and she put on a fantastic day full of both activities and siesta time.Heading down to the café for lunch, we were greeted with six different meal options, each more delicious than the next. Jenko, Sarah and Nik had been at work all morning, preparing this glorious feast for the hungry staff and crew, and then redoubled their efforts to put on an amazing three course dinner, complete with the most enormous banana cake for dessert.As a crew we wrote letters to ourselves, to be posted back to us by the Navy in six months time. The letters detailed our highlights, lowlights and goals of the voyage, and personal comments to inspire us again six months down the track. As people finished off their letters to themselves and put their unsealed envelopes up on the fridge, they set about writing short notes to other crewmates, letting them know how much they care, how glad they’ve been to have them aboard, and small personal moments they never want to forget.The realisation that we only have three days left aboard, and that tomorrow is our last full day of sailing has really started to hit home, and the love and affection that this crew has for each other can be seen and felt everywhere you go on our little forty four meters of ship. It’s hard to believe that we’ve been at sea, learnt to sail and visited seven different ports over the past two months. On one hand it feels like a lifetime ago that we all met in Istanbul, but on the other it feels like we’ve only been at it for a few weeks. We’ve been through so much together, and the remaining time feels far too short, but we know that this has been an experience that will never leave us, and one that we will talk about to our grandkids in years to come.SHOUTOUTSHi all! Cameron here. We’ve three days to go. And this is a pretty sombre fact! Hope everyone is well back home. Dad, I am probably quite close to the location where Grandpa’s B24 went down. Say hi to Fi and Tris, Andrew and Nat. First adventure is coming to a close, whilst the second begins in a week or so! Much love to you, and all others following these logs.