August 2, 2000

Our present position is 42' 35" N and 41' 18" W. If you drag out an atlas, you can find us! Initially we had to stay south of Sable Island (43' 60). Then to put your minds at ease over shades of Titanic, the Race Committee required all ships to sail south of 42 50 N to avoid ice spotted by the iceberg patrol. Just FYI, it is a 2,600 mile rhumb line (straight path) to cross the "pond." So far will have logged 1,065 miles.

The start of this leg of the race from Halifax was grand! To see so many magnificent ships under sail was remarkable. Some of the larger ships use intercom systems to give commands. The huge Russian ship, Mir, took the lead right from the gun. Her racing design is proving its merits! She is still first in Class A.

Each day all ships report their position to the Race Committee outpost on Mir.
After calculations are made, they announce our standings. Presently Pride II is first in Class B and 7^th in fleet. One of our competitors in Class B, Arung Samudera from Indonesia, broke one of her masts and turned back to Halifax. We had to give her 8 hours of corrected time in the Boston-Halifax Race when we finished ahead of her, but she corrected to place 2 hours ahead of us. She was our most serious contender - but no more.

Shortly after the start, the wind died out. It was so calm that some of the crew made paper boats from torn up trash and placed them in the water. You could see the crew's reflection in the water as the little boats just sat there - I suppose that settles any question of wind! The temperature was chilly at the start of the race, but when we entered the Gulf Stream, it became quite warm. The water temperature last night was 83F. However it was cooler a day ago. We are probably going in and out of warm water eddies. Whatever. Today is once again T shirt weather. No doubt mid-calm everyone wished for wind - so "they" gave us wind! A low moved by giving us 30 knots plus and reaching 46 knots at times.

As the winds gradually increased, the biggest jib (staysail) developed a rip. We put a much smaller storm sail up in its place. Captain Miles also lowered the main and hanked on a small storm sail above it. Pride II handles well with the reduced sail plan. She isn't exactly the kind of boat you sail on her ear. None the less, the seas have grown to 15 feet. I have taken lots of video. Guaranteed to make all you landlubbers sea sick!

Mountainous seas rise up on the starboard quarter (back right). They crest like breakers with turquoise tops gleaming through the foam. Because the seas are so large and lumpy, Pride II rolls all over the place. Poor Andy the Cook is belted to his sink or stove, and pots and dishes take flight from time to time. Still, he hasn't lost his sense of humor. Yesterday at lunch he tossed some fruit into a basket for the taking as he says, " I bought apples and oranges, and I don't want anyone comparing them!" At night I have taken to loosely tying a line from a huge bolt in the hull around my hips to keep me from rolling out of my bunk. Ironically, I slept well that way since my body relaxed without the fright of tumbling out.

The good news is our race weather gurus have "advertised" that this low is moving on. Another small front may blow through tomorrow, then a fair weather high is forecast. Right now, the sun is out. An occasional baby rain squall passes. But all and all, it is a big improvement over last night. The seas are still huge and they will take time to settle, but it is basically dry.

Unlike Pride II's Pacific crossing to Asia, there is no feeling of isolation out here. Although no boats can be seen, we plot their positions daily from the radio reports. Once a day, Captain Miles radios his friend on Brilliant who is in first in fleet and Class C. He also studies the weather fax, listens to Race Control's weather report, and contacts skippers around us to ask about their conditions. Some of the blokes are Brits and the conversation can be quite amusing. Such as, "Oh, yes, the front? Jolly good, I dare say. Quite a performance, that one. Never you mind, we've got some bits of blue now." We've also heard medical requests. A woman on Pogoria broke her leg so they radioed Kruzenshtern who has a doctor on duty for medical emergencies in the fleet. Kruzenshtern stopped racing and waited till Pogoria caught up to go to her assistance. Earlier, the ships were also playing a preplanned game for points based on questions and answers that are radioed to the ships. "Which continent has the largest uninterrupted coastline?" Questions like this had the crew scurrying through atlases and pilot books. The game served us well when we were becalmed, but it has been delayed due to the weather.

Our cadets (passengers 25 and under) have faired well. Just after the start, the learning curve was vertical. The nomenclature alone is overwhelming. But now they are a regular part of the ship. At sea, the crew settles into a routine of watches and each watch has two cadets. They are plotting positions, taking turns at the helm, sharing cleaning duties, and adding greatly to the overall muscle power of the ship. And since it only happens with muscles on this ship, the crew is pleased to have them. Early on, one cadet commented that he thought the ocean would have larger waves. As I caught on film the aft deck rising and falling with the mountainous waves, I reminded him to be careful what he wishes for. Even some of the veteran crew were green when the first bad weather arrived. After climbing the rig on a belly full of breakfast to stow the foretop, apparently several bowls of Cheerios and some of Andy's best efforts were launched from aloft.

I have taken over nearly all responsibility for Kodak moments. Andy jumps in when my hands are full of video equipment, and the crew will snap a picture if I leave the camera on deck. Mostly though, it is my rice bowl as everyone else has their hands full. Never mind, though, for it has been a labor of love. Besides it gets me on deck from time to time to take in the fresh air. And as Jan said, " It doesn't get any fresher than this!"

Breathing the freshest air in the Atlantic,

Leslie Bridgett
Teacher Stowaway

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