We Did Mean to Go to Sea

I have been sailing small boats since I was very young and I love being in, on or near the sea. Two years ago I sailed on an old Baltic trader, the Queen Galadriel, with my Guide Company and I thoroughly enjoyed it. After that voyage I was really keen to sail on an even larger ship, particularly on a square-rigged tall ship, and I decided to find out about the Cutty Sark Tall Ships Race. I collected information from lots of different companies offering berths in the race and decided to apply for a space on board the Jubilee Sailing Trust's boat, the Lord Nelson. The Lord Nelson is the only tall ship designed to take able-bodied and physically disabled crew - people in wheelchairs, or with missing limbs, or who are blind or deaf. I was offered a place on the final leg of the race, from Santander, on the north coast of Spain, to Portsmouth, on the south coast of England. The trip was very expensive so I was most grateful when the 'Ship's Baby Fund' very generously helped me to pay for it.

I caught the plane from Bournemouth Airport to Santander on Sunday 4th August to begin the adventure. I was rather nervous at first and I was a bit worried that there would be very few other young people of my age (16) on board, but when I met the other voyage crew I found that over half of the 40 were under 25, the ratio needed to qualify for the race, and out of those 12 of us were 16 or 17.

We had a day in Santander on the Monday, where we had a chance to look around some of the other ships, such as the huge Russian training ship 'Mir' and the Polish ship 'Dar Mlodziezy' which was nearly as big, before setting off on the Tuesday morning. We took part in a parade of sail for the people of Santander on the Tuesday afternoon and then started the race at 5 o'clock. The start was a really impressive sight, with over 60 tall ships and large training yachts all lined up with their sails up and engines off. We set off northwards to cross the notorious Bay of Biscay, to go round Ushant off the NW coast of France, up the English Channel, and to the finish in Portsmouth, over 700 miles away. That evening as the drizzle stopped and the sky cleared we sailed away from the other ships, and this was the last we saw of any of the other ships in the race for the next seven days.

There was a lot to learn about sailing a square-rigged tall ship. Three masts and lots of new names for sails and ropes. I found it very different to the sort of sailing that I am used to in dinghies and small yachts. The fore and main masts were square rigged with four sails on each - the course at the bottom, then the topsail, the t'gallant and the royal at the top. The mizzen mast had fore and aft sails with the lower and upper spanker then the spanker topsail. All three masts also had two or three staysails (jibs). As well as all the sail names there were also all of the rope names to learn - the clewlines and the buntlines to pull the sail up and the sheets to pull the corners of the sail down, the halyards to pull the yards up and the braces to pull them round. Knowing the names was confusing enough, but we also needed to know where each rope was - which of the 146 cleats and pins each rope was made off onto.

On the first Monday evening, whilst we were still in port, I had my first chance to climb the rigging. We all had to wear full body harnesses, which fitted over the shoulders and between the legs. We climbed up the shrouds on the ratlines, then we clipped our harnesses on to the safety wire while we clambered onto the first platform. From up there I had a really good view of the tall ships moored all along the quay wall. When the next opportunity to climb the mast arose, I eagerly volunteered, even though we were out at sea and it was rough and windy. This time we worked in teams of four on each half of the yard to do a sea stow, where the square sails are tidied away more securely. We cautiously walked out on the footrope beneath the yardarm, and pulled tight on the gaskets. We did this on both the course and the topsail, on both the fore and the main masts. I worked aloft on the yards several more times - to take out the sea stows and then, when we were entering Portsmouth, to harbour stow the sails, lifting them on top of the yards to make them look neater. I also worked up the mizzen mast to harbour stow the spanker, which was considerably more awkward as it was a difficult balancing act. On Wednesday morning I climbed right up to the top of the fore mast to thread a halyard through a block in order to lower one of the sails, and then, on Friday, when we were in Portsmouth, I decided to go to the top of the main mast, so that I was at the highest point of the ship.

While we were at sea we worked on a four watch system - forward port, forward starboard (that was mine), aft port and aft starboard - where you had 4 hours on watch and 12 hours off watch, unless you were on one of the dog watches, which were from 4 - 6 or 6 - 8. We did not stop at night, so we were on watch during the night as well as the day. There were 10 people in each watch and whilst we were on watch we had various duties, such as looking out, helming, writing up the log, setting the sails and other jobs such as plotting the positions of the other class A (square rigged) ships on the chart and testing the immersion suits. In one of our watches I took the position of watch leader, where I had to organise the watch.

Even when I wasn't on watch, I found that I was busy most of the time. When we tacked, or needed to change the sail setting of more than one of the sails we would all be asked to help. Every day we had 'Happy Hour' from 9 to 10, in which we had to clean the ship, polish the brass and scrub the decks. There were also lots of other maintenance jobs that we were asked to help out with, such as rust busting and painting the anchor chain.

In our first two days at sea we saw some dolphins in the distance and then on the third morning we saw a whole school of dolphins about twenty metres away. I was really pleased to see them, because I adore dolphins and I have never seen them in the wild before. About 10 of them started to play around our bowsprit. It was fantastic. They were jumping and swimming under the bow, in and out of the bow-wave, and were literally within an inch of the boat.

When we started the race the captain followed the Spanish weather forecast and decided to take an easterly course near the coast rather than a more westerly course like many of the other boats, in the hope of getting more favourable winds. To begin with this seemed to pay off and by the end of the second day of racing we were 2nd in our class and 8th overall. However, the forecast NE winds we had hoped for, never arrived, and to get round Britanny, the westernmost point of France, we would have to beat straight into the wind that was now blowing strongly from the NW. Because of her design, the Lord Nelson does not sail upwind very well, and our progress was very slow and in the wrong direction. Early on the Saturday morning we were close to Ile d'Yeu and realised that we were not going to be able to get to the waypoint near Ushant, off the far west coast of Britanny, within the time limit set by the Race Rules. So, unfortunately, we had to retire from the race, and put on the motor to make progress to windward.

It made me realise some of the difficulties the ships and sailors of olden times faced, and how they could become embayed and drift onto rocks when confronted with head winds. No wonder there are so many old wrecks.

After a rough and uncomfortable passage into the strong head wind all day and all night, with many of the crew feeding convenience food to the fishes, the captain decided to give us a break and call into Brest, a huge natural harbour in NW France. As our visit was unscheduled, the captain asked me to use my French knowledge to speak to the harbour master to arrange berthing for the ship. On Monday morning, in the protection of the harbour, we hoisted each of the 'wheelies' (people in wheelchairs) up the mainmast.

At midday we left Brest and had a fine sail, with virtually all the sails set, up the English Channel. On Tuesday night thick fog rolled in and, at times, we could not even see the bow of the ship. We could hear, but not see, other ships around us. It was very strange and eerie. We had to steer a very straight course so that other ships could work out where we were going on their radar, and many of my watch did not want to helm. The wind died and we motored to anchor off Bembridge on the Isle of Wight. We waited here for high tide so that it was deep enough for us to enter into the dock in Portsmouth next to the 'Victory'.

It was exciting coming into Portsmouth, when we were closely followed in by 'Stavros', with all the Portsmouth Harbour crew lining the yards and then the Bulgarian ship 'Kaliakra'. The atmosphere in Portsmouth was amazing, with all the crews from all the different boats mixing and chatting together. It was really nice meeting people from so many different countries, from Latvia to Australia, and sharing our experiences of the ships and the sea, and how we had fared in the race. We found that about half of all the competitors had retired from this leg of the race due to the difficult conditions, so we were not alone. We had a crew parade through the streets of Portsmouth, where we carried our flags, others hooted their foghorns and all the naval cadets marched along in their uniforms.

The whole voyage was a great experience for me, and I can't wait to go aloft again. I really enjoyed my trip and I would recommend it to all other STARS and TARS.

Thank you Ship's Baby Fund for giving me the opportunity.

Katie Handasyde Dick