Skipper update 29th April
I am not sure of the exact process for allocating crew. I know that the aims is to get a similar number of round the worlders, and a similar mix of ages, genders, sailing experience and nationalities. There is probably a desire to get more crew from a home nation on host port boats. Some crew request specific skippers and then there is consideration of specific skills sets. Ideally there will be a doctor on every boat (although not always there wasn’t one in DC in the last edition), and someone with engineering experience. This is compounded by some crew not even signing up before race start and those who were signed up withdrawing at the last minute. It must be a logistical puzzle with moving pieces right up until the race begins. And even once the race is underway, the picture keeps changing.
As I have talked about previously there are loses along the way. We are down to 4 round the worlders whereas other boats still have 8 or 9. On paper, the boats are identical. In reality, the crews are not. We’ve consistently been one of the smallest crews in the fleet. Since Cape Town we have had the regulated minimum number of 12 needed to run the boat safely. A medivac at the start of the Australian coast-to-coast meant we sailed that entire leg with 11. At times other boats have had nearly half as many crew again as us. That difference is enormous.
“Many hands make light work” didn’t come from nowhere. Having half as many people again is like adding an extra rower in a pairs race. It’s the difference between a V6 and a V8 engine. Manpower matters. Take sail changes; one of the defining factors in racing performance. How quickly you can change sails, and how often you can adapt them to conditions, can decide positions. But that takes people. More hands at the mast means faster hoists. More bodies hauling sails from the locker. More rotation on the foredeck, where the work is relentless and punishing. With minimum crew that can mean waiting to watch change over for a sail change, with these taking over an hour, this eats into valuable sleep time. What should be 4 hours on a night sleep (minus toileting undressing and redressing for the next watch) quickly becomes 2. But it’s not just about power in the moment. It’s about endurance.
Fatigue builds, hour by hour, day by day, week by week. We’ve just spent 27 days crossing the North Pacific with minimum crew numbers. As skipper, I’ve had to constantly read that fatigue: when to push, when to hold back, when a sail change is worth it; and when it isn’t because the cost to the crew is too high. I’ve watched my team. I’ve seen their effort, the grit, the quiet resilience. And I’ve heard their comments at prize givings, when crews with far greater numbers step onto the podium and admit how hard it is, even for them.
So DC supporters, as we motor in Puget sound, this is the message I will read to my crew:
“Look around you for a moment. Five who have been forged by this race, and seven who have stepped aboard carrying questions, doubts, and expectations. That’s honest. That’s human. But what matters now, what defines us, is what we choose to believe next.
Because here’s the truth of it. We have consistently been one of the smallest crews on this entire race. While other boats carried half as many crew again, we fought hard and punched above our weight. And that matters.
“Many hands make light work” didn’t come from nowhere. Extra crew means faster sail changes. More bodies, More hands hauling sails from the locker. More strength on the foredeck. It’s the difference between a 4 cylinder and a V8 engine. Between keeping pace… and powering ahead. Manpower matters.
But here’s the part that matters more.
Five of you, have just crossed the North Pacific in 27 days with the bare minimum. I have watched you dig deeper than you thought possible. I have seen the fatigue in your eyes, and still you showed up for every watch, every manoeuvre, every moment. And I made calls, not because you weren’t capable, but because I knew how much you were already giving.
And to the seven joining us now: your belief is not a small thing. It is not passive. It is fuel and it feels real and powerful. Your energy has not gone unnoticed.
If you step onto this boat thinking we’re already beaten, you are adding weight we cannot carry. But if you step on believing, truly believing, that this crew, this exact crew, can win; then you are not just joining a team. You are transforming it. Silence the doubts. Not by pretending they don’t exist, but by choosing something stronger. Bring your turbo to this engine. Because yes, we may not have the numbers of a V8. But we have something else now. We have experience carved out of hardship. We have resilience built under pressure. And we have something you cannot measure on a crew list: Hunger.
This is a home port leg. That means something. That should light fire in your belly. That goes beyond fatigue, beyond numbers. This is where we decide who we are. Not the smallest crew. Not the tired crew. The crew that refuses to be defined by either.
So when it’s time to grind, we grind harder. When it’s time to change sails, we move faster. When it’s time to dig deep, we go deeper than anyone else out here. Because belief is power. And if every single one of you commits to that fully then this boat now feels like a V8. It feels unstoppable.
Let’s go show them exactly what that looks like. Let’s do this! Let’s go DC”
Ella out.
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