21st September 2025
Update for supporters of team Washington DC
I thought you’d like to know a bit more about life on board. Many of you may be sailors, but some may not, so I’ve shaped this post for everyone.
This leg is a long one, probably the longest stretch of consecutive days at sea we’ll face. So far, we’ve been lucky with downwind conditions, although the wind has been confused and patchy at time through the Canaries. This is a welcome relief from the pounding of the boat and the mountainous climb up from the low side while beating (tacking upwind from side to side at 40 degrees to the wind; we can’t sail directly into it). Downwind, the boat flattens and life becomes more stable, making it easier to move around. But of course, even when it feels calmer, there are challenges.
We’re sailing with a relatively small crew of 14. That means 6 people on each watch, with the remaining 2 on cookie duty (cooking). On deck, the roles break down into a watch leader (coordinating activities), a helm (steering), a check helm (because steering is demanding), and the pivotal role of trimmers (fine-tuning sail tension to optimise speed) and grinders (to assist the trimmer). That leaves one person “unaccounted for”…. Sailing under spinnaker might feel smoother, but make no mistake; it’s both hard work and an art form.
We change the spinnaker’s size and material depending on the conditions. Easy, you might think. But these sails are vast. Each change means rolling and “wooling” the one coming down, preparing it for its next hoist. It’s a bit like preparing a joint of meat and tying it neatly with string: if it’s not tight and tidy, it will fall apart. When the sail goes back up the mast, the wool has to hold until the sail is fully hoisted before the wind catches it, then break in sequence so the sail billows out like a giant parachute suddenly filling with air. A small but important change this year is that we now use a lacing line, wrapping a lightweight rope around the sail instead of wool. It does the same job of keeping the sail tightly packed, but unlike wool, nothing breaks away into the sea. It’s one of the many small but meaningful shifts we’re making to reduce our impact on the oceans. Managing a spinnaker takes many hands, sometimes for us, those hands belong to crew who are meant to be asleep. It’s a testament to the grit of this team that off-watch, they choose to sit rolling and lacing, rolling and lacing and simply dealing with it.
That phrase ‘deal with it’ rubs alongside our values of kindness, positivity, and assuming the best of others. These shared values have created a really special culture on board, but when it’s dark, cold, and the sea is relentless, sometimes the only thing left to do is just deal with it.
And then there’s helming. Helming under spinnaker is an art form in itself. It’s like an unchoreographed dance. Some seem naturally fluid, but everyone can learn. Even the naturals have to refine their craft, to really know and respond to their partner with all her moods, rhythms, and temperaments. We sail with two partners: the sea and our boat. One of them, the sea, is particularly mercurial. Sometimes she’s still and silent and we must coax her, teasing her along. At other times she’s furious, throwing peaks and troughs at us from every direction. Even when she’s playful, a spinnaker demands constant attention; one slip, and it collapses with a flog that can stop us dead in the water, or worse, tear the sail. That means being vigilant, watching the leading edge like a hawk, never too flat, never too loose; responding instantly to its flutter with a gentle ease on the sheet so the sail billows, breathes, and drives us forward.
But sailing is not just a solo dance at the helm, it’s a group performance. Multiple crew members, each with their own role, moving together in unity. It takes practice, patience, and trust. As we sharpen our coordination and craft our skills, we hope to see our position in the fleet rise. One day, we imagine ourselves on the podium, knowing that the hours we put in now, rolling, lacing, steering, trimming, were worth it.
Whatever the standings, though, we feel privileged to share this extraordinary journey together.
Fair winds, Ella
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