We set off from sunny Auckland on 14th January with a good breeze from the NNE. Jostling for the pin end of the line, Outlaw did very well and ended up being the 4th boat to pass the media gates behind Spirit of Helsinki (Swan 65), Pen Duck VI (73ft Bermudan Ketch) and Translated 9 (Swan 65). For a brief period of time it felt like we were a part of the Flyer Class! Truly exhilarating. After some match racing with Maiden in the Hauraki Gulf, the fleet started to split with the majority rounding the East Cape and heading South, leaving us heading East-South East. Unfortunately, the large high pressure system that dominated the 45th parallel of latitude in the South Pacific stretching from New Zealand to the West coast of South America, did not play in our favour. Roughly 36 hours into the race we had a change of tactics and dived South to join the other boats although by this point we were already towards the back of the fleet. The following weeks meant that we worked extremely hard to catch up with the other competitors, a task that was difficult considering we are the second smallest boat in the fleet however the hard work paid off and we ended up finishing in the middle of the fleet.
 
The conditions we endured took me a little by surprise on this leg. Stories of huge low pressure systems with merciless cold fronts, freezing temperatures and waves as tall as buildings had mentally prepared me for one of the toughest 6 weeks of my life. Although at times we had each of these weather conditions, on the whole our experience was somewhat different. In order to meet safety requirements, multiple virtual waypoints had been placed throughout the leg which we had to keep to starboard before diving down south to round the Horn. This meant that for the first week and a half or so we were unable to escape the high pressure system mentioned above, leaving all boats making slow progress in the light winds in a place that the Maiden crew termed ‘the Coldrums’. The second waypoint at 50 degrees South, 100 degrees West felt like a physical barrier which once passed, turned on the ‘real’ Southern Ocean. The rolling mountains came thundering towards us, spectacularly towering over us from astern that meant it best not to look behind when helming. To avoid unnecessarily tiring ourselves out we changed the helmsman every half an hour although even with that rotation, at the end of a session on the wheel it felt like we’d done the most intense arm workout of our lives, often needing two people to be holding the wheel to keep us on track.
 
On the topic of workouts, it’s safe to say that I have seen a drastic change in my level of fitness since starting the race despite my attempts at getting as much ‘phys’ in as possible. Every manoeuvre does of course require a lot of effort however we often go days without tacking/gybing and if the wind is consistent, that goes the same for sail changes. In therefore created a step routine in leg 1 whereby for 5 minutes, twice per watch I did step ups on the bottom step of the companionway. Initially many crew members thought I was going a bit crazy and sometimes ridiculed me for it, however as the temperature started to drop in legs 2 and 3 and being able to feel our fingers and toes became a luxury, my routine became very popular. In this last leg myself and two others; Mehdi our Watch Leader and Glenn our Engineer, decided to take it up a notch and engage in an ‘ab’ competition, each watch holding the plank for as long as possible and doing as many sit ups against the heel of the boat (feet high side, head to leeward) as we could manage. Sadly I cannot say that I now have a six pack however it definitely helped me to maintain a base level of fitness.
 
This article wouldn’t be complete without writing about what an incredible experience we had rounding the mighty Cape Horn. We were lucky enough to pass at dusk, seeing the jagged rock looming in the poor visibility, waves crashing up its sides. A ship passed us a few miles before approaching the rock and when I asked if they had any updated weather information they could give us, the response was “very bad weather Ma’am, very bad weather”. All on board were ecstatic to be rounding the horn, one of the reasons why this race is so special. On the approach we had a lovely conversation with Jose the lighthouse keeper who we learnt is there with his wife, two young daughters and their cat. There are some pretty crazy places to live on this planet, but I would say the lighthouse at Cape Horn has to be near the top of that list, if not the very top.
 
After the month-long stop over in Auckland It felt as though all teams were well rested and raring to go. Crews were pushing the boats and themselves more than they had been in the previous legs. A new fire had been lit which as exciting as it was, was important to remember that the race is a marathon not a sprint and that the boats are very old. Each day we would learn of more breakages from the other yachts over the HF radio including reporting our mishaps. Luckily we didn’t have anything too major besides ripping the tack out of the main sheet towards the end of the leg. L’Espirit de Equipe had issues with their rigging, Evrika Chinese gybed and bent their boom, White Shadow broke the base of their forestay which resulted in the stay flying around and lacerating both their mainsail and yankee, and Translated 9 obtained two cracks in their hull after a nasty couple of broaches and a knockdown close to Cape Horn which lead them to seek repairs in the Falkland Islands, retiring from the race. It felt as though the boats limped into Punta Del Este with extensive jobs lists however all teams have rattled through the work and are all set to slip lines on the 5th March. This next leg is our final stretch back home, finishing at the Royal Yacht Squadron in Cowes and although I am excited to get going again, I have had the absolute time of my life so far and I’m not sure I’m ready for the race to be over. We’ll see how I feel in April!