Lionheart 7

I HAVE had my first real piece of equipment failure after about 15,000 nautical miles. It started when I noticed a grating sound in the furler, which rolls the forward genoa around itself and allows quick and easy deployment of the sail. I spoke to dad and we assumed it was dried salt. However, the next day the furler had visibly come apart and I could see and feel where the bearing seal had separated. Dad looked at some of the models and we spoke to the manufacturer about what could be done. There were two options - pick up a replacement part in Cape Town and forgo the unassisted aspect of the record or take the furler off and hoist the sail in the conventional method. I decided to remove the furler. It took a whole day by the time I removed hanks (sail clips) from the spare sails and altered the genoa to slide on the forestay. To take the furler off I had to undo the forestay (wire holding up the mast) and take the sections of aluminium tubing apart. Even though the wind was light, there was enough sway up the top of the mast to send the forestay with all its weight wriggling like a snake. I felt like a fireman trying to control a high-powered hose while undoing impossibly small screws at the same time. I cried in frustration and wondered how the job was ever going to get done. There was nothing else to do but cry or persevere and it took too much effort to cry. Eventually I worked out how it was put together and got the whole thing off. I tell you what though, it was with great satisfaction that I hoisted the altered genoa and Lionheart slowly picked up speed again. I slept like a baby.

22.06.99

WELL, it's another good friend's birthday. Happy birthday, Andrew. Next birthday will be mine - another sign that I'm getting closer to home. It was on a quiet night this week that I got out of bed to see if the wind had picked up. I stuck my head out of the companionway and surveyed the horizon for any shipping.

As I faced towards the bow of the boat I met my hitch-hiking friend for the first time. Only centimetres away from my face was a bird perched on the companionway slide and he wasn't the least bit scared of my big ugly face gawking at him. I couldn't help but test how tame he was, so I tapped softly under where he was roosting. He didn't care one bit and so it wasn't until I reached out and touched his wing that he leaped a couple of feet away, only to resume the same, perched sleeping position. I went back to bed and it was nice knowing I had some company - even if he wasn't much for a conversation. I have received a question from Ben Curtis at Ballam Park Primary School. He wanted to know if I have found any messages in a bottle. No, I haven't, but I've been thinking of sending one myself. Firstly, I have to wait until the barbecue sauce is finished, though. Chris, from Eastbourne Primary School, asked what the temperature was at the equator. During the day it hovered between 20-28 deg. and at night it dropped only one or two degrees.

I had to use a fan above my bunk or else I couldn't get to sleep. Thanks to everyone who sends me questions but I have been getting 200-300 a week and obviously I can't answer them all. I try to answer the questions that haven't been asked before. I was shocked and saddened to hear of the death of the mum of one of my good mates. I can't even start to comprehend what it must be like, but I'd like to tell Dan and his family that I am praying for them.

29.06.99

ANOTHER week goes by and I'm closer to the finish line. I'm still not that far off the coast of Brazil. This is because the south-east winds have kept me on a hard tack for more than two weeks. I have been averaging only 80-100 nautical miles a day. My weather adviser, Roger, says the wind should be going around to the north-east soon and then a front will come through and take me further south and into the Westerlies of the Southern Ocean. The past two days I've had 25 knot winds and it's been a bit wet outside so I've spent my time in my bunk eating, reading and listening to music. I haven't seen any shipping since the northern hemisphere, but I keep the radar switched on just in case. Usually I automatically wake up when Lionheart needs my attention. I can be asleep and notice a change in the way she handles or the sounds generating from all over the place bring me back to consciousness and I get up and attend to it. It is quite an advantage because it allows me to rest when things are under control while being on standby for adjustments. Emma Stephans at Melton South Primary School has e-mailed me to ask if I think I would do a trip like this again. Probably not, but who knows. The reason I say no is because I would have already achieved it and there are other challenges and places I want to see. However, I would recommend the voyage to anyone. I have no regrets for undertaking it in the first place.

I was also asked by Susie and Natalie from Mt Gambier North R-7 School what it is like being on a boat by myself. Well, I suppose it is like living in your bedroom. There is not a great deal of room to move around and I never make my bed! I often just sleep-in in the mornings until I can't any longer and then I munch on something for breakfast (if I haven't eaten it the night before) and take up reading a book of some sort.

This is punctuated by checking the horizon for shipping and making alterations to the sails and boat course. I'd say there's about two square metres that I basically live in. The remaining small amount of surface space of Lionheart gets visited only every now and then. It's a bit tight and repetitive but I have my whole mind that I can explore and so I often just sit or lie down and think about anything and everything.

I love my bunk. It is such a nice feeling to get horizontal. You can really feel what the boat is doing as it rocks you in between dreams and reality and it is always cosy no matter what the conditions outside are like. I'm so used to my environment moving all the time that I wonder if I won't go mad trying to sleep on a still bed in silence when I get home. Who knows - when the time comes I might just keep sailing . . . forever!

06.07.99

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