The experience of a lifetime – Updated

I have been following The Clipper round the world race. One of my dreams is to take part in this some day. In their weekly update email, one of the racers Shana Bagley shared her experience. It's well worth reading. You can read more from Shana at her blog Sail Charisma

"As California is currently (still) sailing under the glow of the Southern Cross and nearing the end of one of my three legs in this Race, I, too, am reflecting on the end of my relationship (temporarily) with the adventure, the boat, the lifestyle, and, more importantly, with the skipper and crew. Frankly, I don’t like the thought of leaving at all. Race 2 (La Rochelle to Rio) has lasted longer than projected due to repeated light winds and we are all seriously looking forward to a real shower, fresh fruit and meat and some cold beer (not necessarily in that order).

However, even after 31-plus straight days at sea, I do not want to leave my new found life as an ocean racer and as a California crew member. I am not sure how I am going to manage watching what has been my home and my family for the last two months and over 5,000 nautical miles sail away on Leg 2 (Cape Town) without me. One cannot classify returning to a land-based life and an office as going back to the “Real World”.

What we have been doing since August has been more real than what is typically done at work or at home. Every day on the ocean is about simple survival, deep reliance on and trust in your crewmates, and adjusting to living far outside of your usual comfort zone. You realise just how little you need to survive and to be truly happy. You don’t have time to sweat the small things or to be self-centered – you focus on a much bigger picture and operate like a symbiotic unit. You have no choice, really. This has been another hard fought race for California. We were so determined to earn a podium finish. We tried to sail southwest, heading for the finish instead of the Scoring Gate. But, the winds never permitted our master plan to be implemented; instead, we actually drifted our way through the Scoring Gate. At times, we raced ahead and took miles off the lead of our competitors.

Although unforecasted wind hole after wind hole impeded our progress, our spirits were never broken. We have worked together as a cohesive and happy team since Day 1. We have shared the same challenges of lack of sleep, lack of showers and fresh clothes, pushing our physical limits with repeated evolutions, and pushing our mental limits when those evolutions occurred during squalls or in the dead of night and when we had to make tea for 18 in a Force 11. We have made mistakes, irritated someone, been irritated by someone, felt afraid, suffered seasickness and extreme sleep deprivation, and even cried, but we have also improved, apologised, discovered how to see things from 17 other perspectives, felt like a champion, persevered, adapted, and laughed until we cried.

We have had extreme highs: going out the spinnaker pole for a spike drop, seeing the world from the top of the mast, completing a headsail change in a squall in the dark with waves crashing over the bow and rain pelting you in the face (and laughing like maniacs), warm water whole body shampoo and rinse in the snake pit courtesy of yet another squall, being tried in Neptune’s Court at the Equator, seeing the deepest of deep blue seas and the brightest of star filled skies, tearing up the dance floor en masse whilst in port, and making dear friends for life. And we have had extreme lows: having your head in the sick bucket for 12 hours, watching the spinnaker shear from the mast block and tear in half, hot bunking in a berth that smells like feet or is soaking wet. Every single one of these events was not experienced alone.

There are many facets to this adventure that those at home simply will not understand. However, no matter where we go, there will always be 17 other people who will understand to the core. That is what makes it so hard to leave the boat. For the ten Round the Worlders, the biggest of adventures continues with 8½ more months of racing and several more changes of faces along the way. For two of our “leggers,” their gig is up. One leg seems too short, really. It leaves an empty feeling in your heart and in your soul, it leaves you wanting more. Luckily for the rest of us, there are more legs and races in the near future. What also lies ahead, though, are entirely new and broader horizons. What all 43 members of the California Team do with what they have learned from the Race, learned about themselves and each other, and the opportunities that arise there from is a story yet to be told.”