Well I did it, my gig is up. My time on Bob, or the Big Orange Boat is over & I’m very happy to report that I didn’t embarrass myself or my kids by falling in!
As this will be my last blog for nickysailsforblackdog.com I would like to say a heartfelt thank you to my family, friends and supporters for your kind words of encouragement all along the way.
It made a huge difference knowing I had so many people following me from the moment we sailed under the Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco, were picked up by the huge Pacific rollers surfing at 28 knots down into the troughs while California & the Baja slipped by, the fluky & fickle breezes blowing us backwards or not at all on approach to the Panama Canal & finally making our way through the sailing playground of the Caribbean and out to the Atlantic Ocean.

Having dealt with the tropical heat & challenges coming from every quarter of the compass it was such a happy moment to see a girl in a white dress bouncy up & down and from side to side under the palm trees and a tall handsome lad by her side as we motored into Port Antonio, Jamaica at the end of the race last Tuesday,
There to welcome me were two of my children, Libby & Thomas who had flown in from London the night before. To make sure they didn’t miss the boat’s arrival, Libby had woken Thomas at 8.30 am and they had been sitting on the beach next to the Errol Flynn Marina waiting patiently until 4.30 pm when the Hull & Humber finally rounded the peninsula & followed Spirit of Australia into the harbour. It was such an emotional moment & one I will treasure forever.
Having had my feet firmly back on dry land for the last three days, it is now time to reflect on the end of my relationship with the the boat, the lifestyle and the adventure ,
I have gazed on thousands, if not millions of waves by day and thousands, if not millions of stars by night. I have seen the deepest of deep blue seas.,.I have experienced the incredible beauty of 25 sunrises and 25 sunsets, I have experienced the ocean, one minute so unkind & harsh and the next so peaceful & relaxing and more than once the big baddie ‘ The Wind Hole ‘ duly tried us in Neptune’s Court.
I joined the three mile deep club swimming around the boat when the wind left us in the Pacific and I have seen schools of dolphins swimming and leaping under the bow, twisting and turning to look up at us in their cheeky way as they watched us watching them from the guard rail.,
Helming was exhilarating, whether it was surfing the waves by day or under a canopy of stars at night, with Jupiter behind us & the warm wind on my face, it was my favourite thing to do and I couldn’t wait until my turn came around again. Being so near the Equator in Panama, the horizon seemed shorter and the world smaller. It was as if there was a sharp line at the edge where you feel you could have sailed off it. Mind you, after seeing nothing but ocean for 20 days in a row there were times when I thought, there was just too much water out there .
Every day on the ocean is about simple survival, deep reliance on & trust in your crew mates and adjusting to living far outside your usual comfort zone. The sea does not distinguish between Olympians and novices and as a crew we needed to be ready to face exactly the same challenges as those experienced by the professional racer.
I was not a sailor but I have learnt so much from my skipper, my watch leaders & my crewmates. They patiently explained how to helm, how to anticipate what the boat will do by watching the movement of the bow, how to set course to the wind rather than the compass, when to use the Yankee & Staysail & when only the Windseeker will do & how to sweat up the halyard & work the winches.
As a team we made mistakes, We irritated someone or were irritated by someone, we suffered seasickness and sleep deprivation, we put up with the rank smell of 18 unwashed bodies, wet sails and sweaty bunks and even cried, but we also improved, apologised, discovered how to see things from 17 other perspectives, persevered, tried to keep focused, adapted, & most importantly, laughed & joked with each other.
As an individual you don’t have time to sweat the small stuff, you just sweat. My hands got so sodden with sea water, from washing in it, washing up in it, washing clothes in a bucket of it and heaving ropes in the rain, at times they looked more like sponges & I wondered if they were ever going to return to normal. You begin to dream about everyday conveniences such as a push button loo without a lever which has to be pumped twenty times and harpoons your backside when you sit down and a comfortable bed which doesn’t throw you up & down leaving me pondering if this is what it felt like to be the poor cat I once read about which was scooped up in the dirty towels & thrown into the heavy cycle of it’s owner’s washing machine.
I have felt extreme highs & extreme lows & yet every single one of these events was not experienced alone. In the end it’s all about attitude. the only thing we can change when things get a bit tough is our attitude. My father always told me, it’s 10% about what is happening to you and 90% how you react to it.
Having lived with these discomforts I have such respect for ocean racing, & how tough a sport it really is.
I count myself very lucky to have experienced sailing in the North Pacific Ocean and the Caribbean Sea and coming second, our first podium finish in the race was the icing on the cake.
Having been starboard to Spirit of Australia’s port from early morning on Tuesday, hour after hour passed with the entire crew sitting on the high side with virtually no wind, It was a case of whose flapping spinnaker caught what wind there was & then we somehow drifted our way over the finish line, just 3 1/2 minutes behind the Australian boat .
When I wave goodbye to my team on the 24th it will be with a real sense of achievement.
I will wish them all the luck in the world but for me, my big adventure is over & it’s time to pass the baton..
From now on if I tell my husband I want to go on another crazy adventure I hope he will hit me on the head with a hammer. I’ve had my midlife crisis & from now on,being a normal mummy again, doing normal mundane things is what I’m looking forward to most and as far as sailing goes, a nice fair weather sail around Pittwater north of Sydney will do me just fine!





