Leg 1 is one of the most varied and challenging legs of the entire race, spanning thousands of miles across the Atlantic Ocean. From the chill of the English Channel to the heat of the tropics, it delivers every shade of ocean racing: the brutal, the beautiful, and everything in between. For us it’s been a leg in which we’ve built something far deeper than skill alone.
The opening stage to our European stopover in Puerto Sherry was tough from the outset. The English Channel demanded precision, and the Bay of Biscay was a true baptism of fire that tested every nerve and sail. But through it all, we began to find our rhythm. The noise of the wind and the slamming of the hull in heavy weather can be overwhelming. It’s a sensory storm that tests even the most experienced sailors. Some crew found courage in facing it head-on on at the bow; others dug deep to overcome fear. Both acts took bravery. This is not a sport free of risk, and the sense of responsibility we hold for each other can be immense. But we face it together. That’s what makes us strong. Trust in the person beside you, in the boat beneath you, and in yourself is pivotal.
Stage two felt like a turning point. Sailing into the trade winds brought a sense of flow and confidence. The boat began to hum a sound of speed, of movement, of purpose. But even in the steadiness of the trades, we faced the first of many tactical puzzles: how to approach the Canary Islands. Then came the notorious Doldrums, sailing in the tropics brings lots of changing weather, big squalls one minute and wind holes and mirror-flat seas the next. It’s indescribable unless you’ve lived it: the heat, the silence, the sudden violence of rain and wind. Yet amid it all came moments of joy: watching dolphins carving through phosphorescence, whales rolling beside us and seabirds dancing on the updrafts. Exiting the doldrums corridor and in the trade winds once again we reached towards South America. Another treat awaited us as we sailing down the coast of Brazil, navigating oil platforms and tricky local winds. Then after nearly a month at sea and more than 6000 miles sailed, we arrived to a glorious reception in Punta del Este.
We have encountered some challenges along the way. Our mast track was damaged early on stage 1, forcing us to sail with reef three. Later, a tear in the mainsail meant we’d be continuing under reef one until Punta del Este, but the crew didn’t grumble, they problem-solved, they laughed, they carried on. These are the realities of ocean racing: things break, plans change, and sometimes it’s nobody’s fault. Accountability matters, but so does perspective. We take responsibility, we learn, and then we move forward; together. Amid the exhaustion, the learning, and the repairs, there’s been so much laughter. Shared meals, silly jokes, small victories. The joy of trimming a perfect spinnaker, or the quiet pride of helming through the night. We’ve found meaning not just in racing fast, but in how we race with integrity, empathy, and a sense of shared purpose that runs deeper every day.
I can’t help but feel a deep swell of pride. This crew has faced everything the ocean could throw at them and responded with courage, humour, and grace. They’ve stepped fully into our purpose and been held by our values, the foundation that has carried us from one horizon to the next. What an extraordinary achievement. What an incredible team. And what an honour it is to be their Skipper.
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