The Atlantic (2,124nm) – post II

The second entry from our Atlantic crossing series, written by our special guest contributor Katherine “Boat Gym” Smith (Katherine completely embraced the semi-frequent winch workouts on Serenity, despite often collapsing in a heap in the cockpit once the sail change was complete). As with our other Atlantic posts, we start with all our responses to Katherine’s question for the group before moving onto her post.

---

“What change have you seen in yourself as a result of the passage?”

Katherine: Slightly against my will, I ended up spending a large portion of my time sitting on deck, staring out into the ocean. This is because early on in the voyage, we all learned that I apparently get sea sickness (see: projectile vomiting). Luckily, I did get my “sea legs” a couple days in, but I still found it difficult being below deck, as well as focusing on close-range items for long periods of time. Thus, sitting and staring became a favorite pastime. Now, I am not sure if I’ve ever sat and stared for hours at a time before, but I am thankful that I started because it made me appreciate the “slow” of things. I watched entire sunsets. I watched entire sunrises. I watched the moon rise and stars fall. I spotted whales and dolphins and seaweed (I didn’t have a third cool animal). I found myself in awe of the blue vastness of the ocean and how that wave over there is definitely bigger than our boat. I began entertaining myself purely by thinking, and I started daydreaming again! These are mental activities I never realized I stopped doing, so I am thankful to have been reminded of them again. Hopefully, I continue to cherish the “slow” of life and the world around me because I definitely believe it is a change in the right direction.

Parker / Laura: For the last few years, I’ve felt my abilities to lead and work in a team have eroded. I’ve developed low self-confidence and generally a feeling of repeated failure. This passage was the first time in a long time that I started to see a glimmer of my old self come back. I was somehow able to take action when I previously would have been paralysed by fear or indecision. I tackled various challenges head on instead of “ostriching” (sticking my head in the sand and pretending the problem doesn’t exist). Generally, I felt a real sense that I could “do it.” I had confidence in my ability to sail the boat. This is huge for me! And, it’s a self-perpetuating cycle. The good feelings from having success in one area bleed over into other parts of life, and that reinforces it even more.

Ballin: Water was a tight resource on the trip. It isn’t like we nearly ran out or anything, but it was something that we couldn’t use recklessly. And while I can’t say that I’ve already changed, one thing I learned and would like to change about myself is my water usage. I’m a self-professed shower moper (meaning I just stand under the water looking sad, but actually really enjoying it). I also take pride in my dish washing abilities formed over years as a professional dishwasher during high school. In both of these areas and more, I totally waste water. When we get back to the Bay Area, I’d like to change my water usage habits.

Alec: The biggest change I noticed was in my confidence of our ability to solve the occasional problems / challenges that did arise during the crossing. As I’ve mentioned previously, before our time on Serenity I had very limited faith in my DIY abilities and although our successes over the last six months dwarf our failures, I was nervous going into the crossing about how we would handle anything more than simple maintenance in a unstable seaway and without access to additional tools and parts. In fact, the opportunities to solve these problems became some of my highlights of the passage, and I relished these occasions to demonstrate our new found self sufficiency when the safety net was finally removed.

---

The Whale, The Night Watch, and The Power Pose

Looking back at my experience of sailing across the Atlantic, I’m filled with great fondness and a little relief to have made it to the other side. I’m currently sitting in a cushy chair under the air conditioning while browsing the internet at my parents’ house in Texas, and it almost feels like the Atlantic was a dream. Luckily, I still have an uncharacteristic tan during winter as a reminder that it actually did happen. While the entire passage was so memorable, there were some standout memories that keep popping to the forefront of my mind.

Memory No. 1: The Whale

During my daily “sit and stare out into the ocean” session, I was suddenly startled to realize one of these waves was not like the others! There was a large grey blob where there should be clear blue. I jump up, run to the back of the boat, and promptly yell “WHAAALLLEEE!!!” at decibel levels that would have made Ishmael proud (Confession: I never finished Moby Dick, but the reference still stands). Everyone subsequently runs to the back corner and looks for whale nowhere to be seen.

After a few minutes of anxiously staring into the ever-expanding blue, people start losing interest as I profusely promise there definitely was a whale. Then low and behold, the whale, which will be called Whaley from here forth, comes back! He’s about 8 meters, fairly thin and colored grey with white flippers. Spamming our families with these details via satellite email, it is likely that Whaley is a Minke whale. Whaley then methodically performs loops around our boat in a counter-clockwise fashion. The loops themselves seemed to be maybe a half-mile around because we would see him appear every 15 minutes, swimming alongside and occasionally under the boat and then disappearing. I anthropomorphized these actions as Whaley wanting to be our friend and trying to get us to play with him. These circles went on for about an hour and a half until finally Whaley got bored and left us. Now you may be wondering, was this the end of Whaley? And the answer is no!

Fast forward to the next day during another solid sit and stare out into the ocean session, and Whaley comes back! This time he’s bolder. His circles are a lot smaller and more frequent gracing us with his presence every 7 minutes, and he even breaches the surface a few times! I saw a face and dorsal fin, and Ballin even saw a tail. We technically can’t prove it was the same whale or a new whale, but I truly believe it was Whaley coming to say hello and wanting to play again. Now you may again be wondering, surely this must be the end of Whaley? And the answer is still no!

Fast forward to the third day, and Whaley comes back for a final goodbye! This time, he just does a quick breach by the boat and then swims off into the distance. Whaley and I mutually understood this would be his last visit. I love this memory because one, it’s a whale so that’s awesome, but two, it really showed that these huge creatures have their own personalities and traits. It was amazing to see the curiosity and growing confidence of an animal that so few rarely ever see, and I highly doubt I’ll ever have another experience like it.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

Memory No. 2: The Night Watch

I can admit that I was probably the weakest link in the crew. I wouldn’t say I was bad at sailing per se; I just wasn’t as good as everyone else 🙂 (Skipper’s sidenote – with seasickness as a strong mitigating factor, and our complete reliance on Katherine’s baking skills during the passage, this assessment is strongly disputed). Given this reality, fate would have it that my night watches were when everything decided to break. On my very first solo night watch, the wind was a bit gusty, so I asked Parker to help me reef in some of the sail. After reefing, I glance forward on the port side, and the conversation went something like this:

K:“Huh…that boat seems really close to us.”

P: “Yeah, maybe we should check the AIS to make sure we’re not on a collision course. I’m sure it’s fine though.”

K: “I need to do the log entry anyway; I’ll go down and check.” [looks at AIS and boat is within danger circle projected to interact with us] “Um, so yeah, I think we’re gonna hit that boat…”

P: “Really? Let me look.” [runs down into the cabin to check AIS] “Oh yeah, we are definitely gonna hit that boat. Ok, be right back.” [Runs up to the cockpit]

K: [Sitting watching AIS, then feels dramatic lurch to the Port side]

P: “OK! We’re good!”

Later Parker shows me how the AIS projected us to be within 0.01 meters of the other boat in the next 5 minutes. So on my very first “solo” night watch, I learn why it is super important to always have someone watching because if not, you’re gonna hit a boat.

• 

• 

• 

• 

Other night watches would provide a second collision course trajectory incident, the GPS suddenly stopping for no apparent reason, and my favorite debacle which is the Hydrovane incident. For context, the Hydrovane is a mini-sail attached to a rudder that acted as a mechanical autopilot. They are very convenient given that it doesn’t use electricity and was also critical to the success of the Atlantic passage. I had the first night watch that night and to help set the scene, the moon has yet to rise, so it is close to pitch black outside. The boat has a light on the back of the hydrovane that causes an eerie glow to emanate across the water. The waves are approximately 8 ft in size. Very early into the watch, the Hydrovane sail literally falls over. Parker is currently the only other person still awake, so I call down to her with the unfortunate news. She comes up and calmly assesses the situation. She then confirms that yes, it is broken but can be fixed without waking up any of the men.

Parker goes down to the cockpit and brings up a variety of tools. She then goes into fixing mode which is my signal to go into eager helper mode. As she removes the boat’s security lines and barriers, I perch in the tiny seat that juts out the back near the hydrovane. Parker then straps herself to a rail in a fashion that is reminiscent of the wooden mermaid at the front of an old pirate ship. She is literally dangling off the boat with that eerily glowing water splashing below her. With our headlamps being our guiding light, we get to work. Parker talks through what she’s doing, and what she needs me to do. This mostly consists of me manning the monkey wrench and stabilizing the vane while Parker removes, fixes, and wrenches it back in place. In the last few minutes of completing the fix, Parker executes her only mistake… she mumbles, “I hope I don’t drop this wrench.” As any decent foreshadowing goes, I subsequently look up to a clank, a bounce, and a plop as the wrench falls from her hand, hits the hydrovane, bounces off a fender, and sinks to the ocean floor. I stare at Parker’s astonished face and let out a bark of laughter at the irony. We then both bust into giggles at what just happened, and Parker chimes, “We have backups!” A few minutes later, she restraps herself to the back of the boat and finishes the job with a new and improved wrench.

I love thes memories because as a not particularly handy female, it was very empowering to be part of an all-female fixing crew. It provided me with a new confidence to take on tasks that I typically would wait for Ballin to complete. I also love thinking about the image of Parker dangling off the back of the boat in the dark of night while I’m leaning over the side rail praying I don’t let go of the hydrovane. It’s an image I hope to never forget.

Memory No. 3: The Power Pose

It is around Day 8 and I am Hype Man for the day. I want to get people amped, so I string together some amp-inducing activities: a makeshift Haka, power posing, and screaming into the ocean. All three of these things can be uncomfortable to do in front of other people. The haka is a Māori culture chant where you basically scream and hit various parts of your body in a very aggressive fashion. Power posing is from one of the very first Ted Talks where, before you go into an important meeting, you take some private time to stand in various “powerful” positions such as standing at the front of a boardroom with your feet shoulder-width apart and both hands placed firmly on the table. It helps induce confidence. Finally, screaming into the ocean is self-explanatory.

I love this memory because without a hitch, every single person was game to do it. I walk through the moves for the makeshift haka (it has similar moves to Globo Gym’s snake chant in the movie Dodgeball: A true underdog story) and then count down. Three…Two…One, and we all scream:

KA MAH-TEY, KA MAH-TEY
KORAH
KA MAH-TEY, KA MAH-TEY
KORAH
HIGH-YOU-KEN! HIGH-YOU-KEN
AHHHHHHHH RAH!

Then I yell:
POWER POSE!
POWER POSE!
POWER POSE!
Where at each new shout, the entire team chooses a new power pose to perform.

And finally:
FIND YOUR CORNERRRRR!!!!!!
Where each person runs to a corner of the boat and screams as mighty and loud as they can out into the ocean.

By the end, we’re all laughing and pumped for the rest of the day. I love this memory because every single one of us went all-in, and everyone was totally open to do something they could have easily sneered away. I think it is a fortunate situation when the people around you are willing to be ridiculous, and I hope we never forget to always have a little silliness in our lives. Unfortunately we were all so hyped doing the haka, we didn’t get any photos, but here are a selection from some of our other favourite activities.

• 

• 

•