By Jonathan Wye
Watching the five other faces peering intently over Bruce's shoulder as screen after screen full of isobars and pressure gradients clicked past, I flashed briefly on visions of tribal elders in a different society peering intently at a scattering of chicken bones while they tried to divine the future and the prospects for their voyage.
For me, a relative newcomer to this project, it was the biggest milestone yet achieved. If the bones aligned correctly, they would sever their ties to land, head east, and take Bruce one more giant step toward the ultimate holy grail, the culmination of thousands of volunteered hours of labor, sweat, and effort, the start of the 2004 edition of the solo, nonstop, around-the-world race known as the Vendee Globe.
Looking around the boat, to see what had transpired since my last trip to Maine—a two-week sojourn of 18-hour "short" days and the occasional all night push, to get Ocean Planet ready for her scheduled launching party on July 14, 2004—my eyes settle on the deck to hull support knees in the sail locker.
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Nine months earlier, after following Bruce Schwab's adventures in the solo race "Around Alone", on a cold and damp mid-January day I'd first walked into the shed at Portland Yacht Services, at 58 Fore Street, Portland, ME, and been handled a Sawzall, an effective, if vicious, electric tool used for sawing apart chunks of walls and beams in land-based construction demolition. One would be no more likely to associate Sawzalls with yacht work than one would associate Salt Lake City with America's Cup racing. On that January day my assignment was to cut away four, two-inch thick mahogany knees that helped give rigidity and support to the cross cabin beams and hull circling ribs supporting the unstayed carbon fiber
rig.
I cut the knees away, and with that action joined the concerted effort to remove 500 pounds from
Ocean Planet as part of the extensive refit and preparation for the Vendee Globe. A week or two later, foam, carbon fiber, and
epoxy resin had been vacuum bagged into place to provide the necessary replacement strength, and approximately 24 pounds of material had been removed from the boat.
There was a certain unlikely symmetry those knees being one of the first objects I worked on again, when I joined the push for the relaunching in July. This time I was sanding the rough and razor sharp edges of the carbon fiber that had been left when the vacuum bagging and release fabric had been removed. In the general hierarchy of jobs to be done, that sort of finish work (protecting the crew from barbed razor like particles to be thrown against), had been left until after the exterior of the hull had again been made weather tight and finish painted.
On this rainy September day those knees are hardly visible, covered as they are with hanging sail bins, rolled up sails and the assorted hanging foul weather gear of the five-person crew that is now huddled around the computer screens waiting to begin the voyage that will deliver
Ocean Planet to Les Sables d'Olonne, France.
The delivery crew is a fascinating cross section of the thousands of individuals who have helped Bruce get to this point.
John Eide is a talented local teacher of industrial arts who can seemingly fashion anything out of any material. He's worked with Bruce since shortly after Bruce arrived in Portland, ME, and, among other triumphs has built a beautiful scale model of
Ocean Planet, rigged and stepped the mast, (the real, 85-foot one) and organized and packed much of the
rigging "spares." All this at the cost of his own long term restoration project, a 39-foot Concordia yawl. At any time he is likely to be deep into the maintenance and repair of one of the ships systems.
Ernie Reuter is a full-time canvas maker, has built a number of important pieces for
Ocean Planet and was instrumental in getting Bruce out to the "west coast of New England" for his talk at the Lake Champlain Yacht Club in Burlington, VT, last January 24. The Reuter's hosted Bruce in their home during that winter weekend.
Bette Reuter, whose professional life is deep within the bowels of IBM Corporation. She works with customers and the production department coordinating the wishes of the clients design department into compliance with what can actually be produced by IBM. This gross over simplification of a complex list of responsibilities is necessary because I can't even spell phonetically much of what seemed perfectly clear as she explained it. On board
Ocean Planet her efforts at organization have given each crew member an individual storage place for their "stuff" made it possible to find edible food in a reasonably varied consumption pattern.
Mario Espin, shivering in the "terrible" 60-degree New England cold, is retired from a 30-year history in the telecom field and currently works for West Marine in Key West, FL. As with all of the above people he is a long time and accomplished sailor. His speech is peppered with the analytical abilities shaped by business school and 30 years of big business, in the same breath he easily make the analogies work for the situation at hand, a rare skill.
As a group, these people are all bright, quick, and good humored. No one seems to have brought an ego with them or show a need to prove themselves. A problem comes up, a few thoughts are shared, consensus reached and action taken. They have been working together enough days already that they appear settled into the routine. Any issue that might affect the long term running of the boat, i.e. survive the delivery to when Bruce is alone, is referred to Bruce so he knows what's going on.
Today, though, the problem isn't the heavy rain and 30 to 35 knot gusts now sweeping Portland Harbor, the problem is the predicted track of Hurricane Karl, which earlier TV station forecasters had assured their viewing public, "had changed course and was heading "safely out to sea."
The problem facing the OP crew on this day is divining the uncertain probabilities of a hurricane's actions and balancing them against the possibilities of ground covered in this fast sailing vessel.
Once again Bruce runs through the scenarios. "If we leave now, we follow this trough along here and (click) this moves up here (he points to the screen) and then we can jibe over and carry this over to here (again pointing at the screen)".
"How far is that?" asks another voice. "Well," said Bruce, "if we figure 300 miles a day it puts us here, and if we figure 250 miles per day it puts us here." (Again, each here, is followed by a location on the screen) "But," he says," we have to balance that against the computer model, which puts Karl here, also five days from now."
Meanwhile, on the dock, someone knocks on the hull and announces the Coast Guard wants to know if you are leaving. The soaked crowd on the dock, surprisingly large at 75 people or so, given the heavy rain, looks up expectantly.
No one viewing Bruce's computer can miss the fact that the two points, locations projected five days away, are in virtually the same location. Watching, I am reminded of a game at Chuck E Cheese's I used to play with my young daughter. The game involved a four-lane highway and what the operator had to do was gauge the speed and spacing of each of the four lanes of traffic, and try to get the frog to hop across without getting flattened by the cars.
The theatrical noises and color graphics when the frog doesn't make it, and goes "splat," are nothing compared to the potential imaginings of this crew. Everyone in this huddle has been through at least one serious storm at sea.
Eventually, thought is given to the ramifications of not leaving on this scheduled date, and the realization is made that if they go, and successfully dodge Hurricane Karl, they will arrive in France one week ahead of the container and *everything* needed to complete the remaining work.
After clicking through the screens one more time, another voice sums it up: "We can sit here another couple of days, risking boredom, or we can try and out race a hurricane". With that, Bruce announces, "We are staying here for a couple of days to monitor the weather in mid Atlantic."
The Coast Guard is informed, the crowd at the dock listens to the same announcement, and Bruce takes the time to explain to anyone who asks what the factors are. He thanks them for coming down to wish them good luck in such miserable weather.
Each crew takes a small bag and heads back to the house of a long time supporter just up the street from the marina. I hear muttering about having a chicken dinner in a day or two and saving the bones
—possibly to help the computer with it prognostications.
Bruce Schwab is the only American entering the 2004 Vendee Globe, a nonstop, solo, circumnavigation. Bruce plans to be the first American to finish the Vendee Globe. Without a major corporate sponsor, Bruce and the "Made in America Foundation," along with hundreds of volunteers who have donated cash and labor, have readied
Ocean Planet to compete in the Worlds Toughest Race.
Learn more about
Ocean Planet and Bruce Schwab, or make a donation to the effort, by going to
www.bruceschwab.com or
www.oceanplanet.org.
