21 März 2015 - Fairtransport
DATE:21-03 GMT:01.11 POS:25.11 N,69.01 W COG:005 SOG:4.3
GENERAL SYNOPSIS: ON BOARD THE TRES HOMBRES
WIND DIR: ENE
WIND SPD: 3 BF
SEA STATE: slight
SEA TEMP: 26
AIR TEMP: 23
AIR PRES: 1020
The Romantic ship
Whales!! When the sun is on the east again, two blue whales are giving there morning sign to us. The fourth day in a row this amazing, calm, huge animals are around us. They don’t show a lot of themselves, the reflecting water doesn’t give away her treasures, but the sound of the blower and the soft and gentle move of the head and back with the little fin, is giving directly a calm and peaceful feeling. The knowledge that they are around is fantastic. Fourteen privileged people are staring after the lunch to starboard, in full silence. The whales must be aware of this big slow, silent boat around them, because our smooth sailing is sometimes like a lazy camel in desert. No wind, zero point seven knots, then a few days between two and four. Slowly through the Bermuda triangle, on our seventh day on the ocean.
The rum, wine, melasse and mostly the cacao beans are smelling in the aft and while stirring you feel a more heavy weight to manage. The ship is lower in the water and on our way back it is becoming more and more clear for me: we are working to bring this beautiful cargo to Europe. ‘It is a working ship, not a romantic ship!’ Everybody been on the Tres Hombres knows that sentence. But for this philosophic trainee girl is everything romantic and can it be both in the same time. Especially in the nights with thousand and one sparkling lights. Thanks to a perfect application on my phone, I recognise for the first time the constellation of Scorpio. For the people who don’t know this one yet, find it, beautiful! Virgin and Lion are in front. The southern cross behind us, Centaurus next to it. Knowing when Jupiter and Venus are coming up by being aware, every night. Getting knowledge of the rhythm of the turning constellations around the Northern star and of course I’m following the rhythm of the moon. The most fulfilled girl is on the north Atlantic ocean.
And while I’m writing this in a dark chard house I hear the sound of speed. Sounds of the movement through the water, the noise of the turning windmills, I feel the light heeling of the ship. Full and by, five point eight knots. We just left the tropics officially. Long trousers and jackets are coming out the chests, we are sailing north. I think we are lucky that we had some slow, warm days and nights, to say goodbye to the colorful, hot and lovely tropics. Now a healthy tension and curiosity are knocking on my door. What kind of weather will we get? What kind of winds will blow us to the east? Do I know the right lines in the dark when the weather gets rough? Will my bed stay dry with my improvised plastic covering? And while I’m reading old stories of Dutch sailors, I’m happy to sail this route now a days. What, ‘this is not a romantic ship?!’ This ship is sharping my muscles, my brains, my fears, my patience, my social skills, my respect and amasement for nature. It is giving me the most lyric dreams during my rests and the most beautiful knowledge during my watches. Let’s write down this new stories for new books, so people have something to read about us in 2115.
as every day the tide is changing, our course over ground is changing, the side where the sails are set is changing, the meals as well. Although something never changed since we left Amsterdam; the motivation expressed from all buddies on board. Yes, it is hard not to sleep well because of the boat bouncing […]
It has been a 48h of tacking in the very agitated sea and sky… With the tide, we came back exactly where we were the day before in a distance of 15 miles straight line. The reality is that we needed so many little straight lines to reach this 15 miles further south. The explanation […]
So here we are, back in Amsterdam, with an empty cargo hold, preparing for the next trip. Six months have passed since we first left Den Helder on that grey November day. I still remember the steady sound of the tugboat, like a frantic clock rushing us. Soon the time would not matter that much, […]