2,683 NM of big blue sea and we've landed in Darwin. While generally sailing is all rainbows, sunshine and unicorns (Editor - that was a swordfish) sometimes it isn't. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin...
I'm not superstitious BUT it was the 13th. There was a bird on board. And I’d broken the yolk of an egg for breakfast. They say things happen in 3’s right?
The night of the 12th, I was very happily doing my watch 0000-0200, when I was disturbed by the sound of its horrendous flapping. 20 minutes that fiendish noise went on. Then it happened. Not even 2 foot away from me. Staring at me in the moonlight, with its beady demonic eyes. You know when you were a child, and you felt something was in your bedroom, that monster under your bed, or in my case, my mirrored wardrobes, and you don’t want to breathe, just in case it could see your chest moving, or it might hear you, or smell your breath??? That was me, I was screaming for Franco silently, trying not to look it in the eye in case it saw it as a threat and one of my biggest fear would actually become reality. The bird the size of a large Jack Russell, black. Blue beak, white chest. Webbed feet, looking at me. With its wings out. That's how I knew that today wasn't going to be a good day.
Anyway, it waddled off, and sat on the bow away from me, and it didn't kill me. It did, however, leave a touch of doom.
About 10am, we realised our starboard engine's propellor shaft had fallen off, and we were still a good 600 miles off Darwin. Hell hath no fury like 4 Italian men who want to reach land, especially one of whom had recently spent $4k fixing something that had just broken again. Now although my Italian has improved, I don't think even native speakers could understand the Italian the guys were talking so fast. The only words I made out were the swear words, which were every other word. That's when I realised that maybe what they were discussing potentially wasn't about the books they were reading. I’ve learnt over the years with Franco that when Italians are angry and a bit confused, don't step in, don't ask what's wrong until their swearing has gone down to every 5 words. Then very gently ask what the problem was, and try solve it in a calm sweet manner. Anyway, it's still broken, but it's held on with some line, so we just have to wait till we touch down in Darwin and fix it. Hoping there’s someone with the parts and the ability to fix it.
Nothing cheers people up like flying the spinnaker, so we got ready to hoist it again, in all its sky blue glory to make everyone smile. Ready, Steady, Hoist. Sail. Nice. Wait. What's that? 4 ladder like holes. Oh. *More Italian swear words.*
No bother really in my eyes, I know we can fix that ourselves anyway. But again, hell hath no fury like the man who just brought this spinnaker for an obscene amount.
The day went on, time to drop the spinnaker. We know our jobs, and because we are on a big posh boats, its got one of those sock-condom like covers which you just pull down over the sail and then its already packed. So off we go.
Ease our the tack and sheet,
“pull it down. pull it down! PULL IT DOWWWWWW-“
*More Italian swear words.*
It's not coming. One of the crew (about 70kg) literally went 4 foot into the air being pulled up by the line that wouldn't come down. Like a bell ringer in a church.
No bother! We can just do an ordinary drop! Of course, then we realised the rest of the crew had never done an ordinary spinnaker drop. Franco and I decided amongst their chitter-chatter that we would just do it between us, Franco on the halyard, me on the sail. I quickly just told the owner “when you see me pull the sail, you pull too” he vaguely understood. Boom, down. In, in, in, I'm covered in blue plastic all over the bow, and the shock on the other crew members faces was hilarious. No damage done. Work finished. Our one engine left that works. Oooh - and dinner is ready.