Before you complain you’ve had a nasty moment on the water … Harty gets things in perspective.
I returned from Brazil in mid January and immediately did something I’d never done before, which was to catch the ‘flu’. I’d always been a bit sniffy (sorry) about people retiring to the sick bay with this supposed debilitating condition. “Oh for goodness sake, just blow your nose and get back to work!” But there I was cowering in a darkened room feeling as if I were playing the lead in ‘Alien’ with a disgusting, slippery, multi-limbed creature stuck to my face. I discovered the only thing you have the energy to do with flu, is read. My ‘go to’ non-fiction books are the extraordinary feats of our ancient mariners, many of whom were hardy and resourceful on an almost unimaginable scale.
My favourite is the ill-fated Earnest Shackleton expedition to the South Pole in 1914. Even more interesting than the efforts of the leader himself, are the feats of some of his lesser-known crew.
Windsurfers may well have heard of Tom Crean; because having survived both the Scott and Shackleton expeditions he retired to his native Kerry and realised his lifetime ambition of running a pub. The ‘South Pole Inn’ in Annascaul, lies equidistant from the glorious wave sailing spots of Inch and Brandon Bay. It’s still there today and is absolutely worth a visit. Although you’ll no longer be served by Tom himself, you will get to sup a pint of Crean’s ale or lager, so named in his honour. But arguably the true unsung hero of the trip was Shackleton’s captain and legendary navigator, Frank Worsley. I’m sure you’re familiar with the story. The Endeavour got trapped in the ice. The crew were eventually forced to abandon ship and made camp before heaving three lifeboats across the floes to the western shore where they set sail for Elephant Island, a miserable uninhabited lump of rock. From there a select party took one of the boats, ‘The James Caird’, and sailed it 800 miles to South Georgia. They beached on the south shore and trekked over uncharted glaciers to a Norwegian whaling station 22 miles to the north. There they summoned help, commandeered another boat and finally, some four months later, rescued the remaining crew from Elephant Island, all of whom, incredibly, were alive. Now there was a triathlon to make an ‘Ironman’ seem as stressful as a game of dominoes.
Superhuman
But it’s only when you unpick the details that you grasp what a feat this was. For example: “a select party took one of the boats ‘The James Caird’ and sailed 800 miles to South Georgia.” Right, we’re in Antarctica, ‘The James Caird’ was just 22 ft. long and apart from the shelter offered by a flimsy canopy, was open to the elements. It was so cold they had to keep chipping ice from the deck because it was affecting the boat’s buoyancy. The sea state was wretched. They were constantly drenched. How did they not catch hypothermia? I’ve just put the bins out in my pyjamas and had to race back indoors and have a hot shower! However, the truly staggering feat was Worsley’s navigation. If they missed South Georgia, they faced nothing but open ocean and would perish. He only had a sextant and only caught the briefest glimpses of the sun from which to get readings; and yet despite being tossed around like a cork in a liquidiser, he managed it.
Wimps
Reaching for another ‘Lemsip’ I mulled over how they really don’t make them like that anymore. Yes there are some incredibly skilled and brave seafarers out there. But most of them have a GPS to tell them where to go; and a helpful voice is just a satellite phone call away. But then my loving wife popped in with a copy of the Sunday Times. In it was a feature about the recent Vendee Globe round the world race. If you followed it you will know that Welshman Alex Thompson came second despite trashing a foil. We love Alex because not only is he a very keen windsurfer who cut his teeth in the waves of Rhosneigr but he was also mentored by Ken Way. Ken was the pioneering English windsurfer I interviewed last year, who was Leicester City’s performance therapist the year they won the Premier League. But this wasn’t about Alex. It was about a New Zealander called Conrad Coleman who finished an embarrassing 5 weeks behind the leaders but did incredibly well – in an Earnest Shackleton sort of way. He capsized and was thrown over-board in the Pacific. The boat caught fire in the middle of the Southern Ocean. Then 800 miles from home his mast broke and his rig tumbled to the sea in spaghetti of canvas and rope. The Vendee forbids outside assistance so in huge waves and without a sewing machine, a table, fresh water or another pair of hands, he set about re-cutting a mainsail using just glue and double-sided tape. He made a mast out of the boom, which he then somehow erected by himself. It was a feat that would have been a mission for 5 men in a centrally heated sail loft. This jury rig powered him over the finish line in France.
Man Up
I quote these inspirational tales because they are just that – inspirational. In times of stress, we windsurfers need a bit of that and perhaps a sense of proportion. A little bit too desperate to get out after something of a windless winter, I launched in a failing north westerly on a very cold February afternoon. The first wave was good enough to warrant another go. But as I reached the outside, the wind shut right off. I started to swim the kit in. I was a way out. I don’t know why I wasn’t wearing a rubber hat. After the fifth bomb on the head, the ice cream head was so severe I started to wretch. In a moment of clarity I thought of the crew of the ‘James Caird’ cast adrift for 3 weeks in the icy Scotia Sea dressed in sodden every day clothes. I was wearing the very latest in wetsuit technology. I could see the welcoming lights of the pub in the distance. Spielberg wasn’t likely to be begging me for the film rights to this titanic ocean struggle. For goodness sake lad, get a grip. And I did. Claw, kick, claw, kick, relax and think of warm places. Now had I trashed the sail and been forced to fashion a new one using only seaweed and plastic bottles, I may have struggled. But the whole subject of rebuilding a windsurfer in the churning sea could be the subject for another time.
PH 23rd March 2018