Sailing Toward Cape Horn

The Sea Gives .. The Sea Takes 
29 November 2013

Report by Arie: On the Oosterchelde

“The sea gives…the sea takes. A heavy saying in a fishing community, because fish is paid for dearly. As dramatic as in times gone by –when fishing vessels with full crew would not return from sea– we don’t have to endure. But still the sea takes her toll.
The sea gives… beauty, endless horizons, beautiful white horses, who run over the deep blue waves. The sea gives all the oportunity to let your thoughts run free, to philosophize. The sea gives clean air to clear the city lungs.
The sea offers the connection between continents, which makes interaction possible. The sea evaporates which powers the raincycle, and feeds our rivers (and glaciers) with clear fresh water, a condition to support life. To these enormous amounts our watermaker on board (2 liters per minute) does not compare, but we are happy with it. Without such a device a journey with this many people would be a lot less comfortable.
The sea takes… or better deprives us from sleep. You never get used to sleeping on a heavily rolling ship. The sea takes her toll, Neptunus demands his fare for the trip. As a payment some things break: sails, yards, glass or pottery. Also the people on board are not spared. Three days ago we got to know the enormous power of the ocean waves in that matter. In rough weather (7 Bft) we had to do a job on the low side of the ship. On the way back to the raised aft deck a big wave swept the deck and swept us off our feet. In the corner of my eye I could see one of us fight the water. Next to a painfull shoulder, the sea also claimed his glasses. I found myself back on the high side of the ship, being swept from port to starboard, thrown into the scuppers. Next to thoroughly drenched, it gave me a painfull shin. A crewmember fished my camera out of the salt water… claimed by the sea. The memory card did contain the spectacular images I made before. During the 1st dog watch things calmed down, but the sea still gave us a little nudge: the helmsman got swept off his feet by a sudden wave and soaked him for the second time that day.
By these events the pulling power of our watch has deminished. Out of the six men (average age 68) only three remain available for deck duties.
Luckily our skipper has the goal to get the ship and her crew safe and sound to the Falklands and avoid bad weather and deep depressions. “Are we a bit off?”, a comment of our skipper Arian, when we deviate a bit to much from our course. The helmsman tries to defend himself, but craftsmanship is undebatable. Some of us have done six or seven trips, but in the area of helmsmanship we are all beginners. Admirable is the craftsmanship of the crew. The ship is in good hands. A lot of respect for the cook, who in difficult conditions –rolls of 25 degrees are no exception– prepares meals for the 28 persons on board. Out of experience I know how hard it is to keep the porkchops from jumping out of the frying pan.
As an avid Klaberjass card player I haven’t been able to play a hand. Not one of the voyage crew plays the game, the academics are too finely strung for this game. They rather busy themselves discussing if a certain saying originates from Seneca or Cicero. The question what should be the next trump card does not fit in the discussion. For a game of card I will have to get some of the permanent crew together, but due to watch duties I have not been able to get the required four players together.
Little by little we are closing in on Cabo de Hornos, the cape that has been speaking to our imagination for so long, about which so much has been written. Where heroism, nostalgia and romance come together.”