Ocean life Days blurred into one another. Morning coffee. Fresh focaccia. Wraps for lunch. Steak with air-fried vegetables. Reading books. Watching tropical squalls develop on radar. Trying to predict which cloud would bring twenty knots and which would leave us drifting. The full moon lit the Atlantic like daylight. There were no city lights. No traffic. No land. Only endless ocean. We even solved life’s great mysteries. For example — why do toilet seats never stay aligned? Apparently, that’s something you have far too much time to contemplate during two weeks at sea. A lucky escape Not every excitement came from the weather. While changing from the gennaker to the Parasailor we discovered the tack shackle pin on the bottom of the furler had completely worked itself free. It fell out only because the halyard tension had just been released. Had it happened while fully loaded, the consequences could have been very different indeed. A replacement pin. A cable tie. Problem solved. Sometimes offshore sailing rewards good fortune. The final push As the miles counted down, average daily runs climbed above 240nm. Our average speed over ground remained around 8.7 knots despite the light start. The tracker became compulsive viewing. Could we catch Cooinda? Would Idefix catch us? How much fuel had everyone else burned? How many miles had they sailed compared with us? With communication so easy, we were in regular contact with some of the other competitors to compare progress and conditions. With only 467 miles remaining we even held an ETA sweep. The prizes? Anything from butternut pumpkin to cans of peas. Serious racing. Blurry ‘action shot’ of the Yellowbrick race tracker, the hand-held excitement clearly visible with the accompanying comment “Cattiba out in front!” 71 Royal Queensland Yacht Squadron Yearbook Mainsheet 2026 ARC Feature
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