Day 61. Party

Day 59. Eees Forbidden

“Is no possible to take film or photo”, the Pilot says to me a second time.  He crosses his arms and looks away, as though the conversation is over.  “Yes but we were promised by the Canal Authority we could film in Port Said.”  “And who made such a promise, because I know is forbidden.”The Admiral plus several other senior managers the previous day had given us permission, but it seems the message never got through.  

I pull the card off the giant bunch of flowers in the galley and hand it to the Pilot.  “Perhaps you can speak with this man”, I suggest.  He takes the card and looks over it suspiciously.  “I have never heard of this man.  Who is he?”  “He’s mudia cabir” (big boss) I say in my best Arabic.  The Pilot raises his eyebrows questioningly and then starts making calls on his VHF radio.  After a few minutes the Admirals raspy voice suddenly cuts in, and he lambasts the Pilot in a 60 second tirade.  

The pilot finally puts his radio down and looks at me sheepishly.  “He is not the big boss.  He is the big big big boss, and he certainly likes your boat.  Where would you like to film?”  I point to the beautiful mosque on the opposite side, plus the canal authority building we’re close to.  He picks up his radio again and within a few minutes we have a couple of police boats to escort us around and help with the filming.

Port Said is an amazing old port town.  It has been a maritime hub for the Mediterranean for as long as people have traded here, and then became even more significant when the canal was built over 150 years ago.  It’s also a very strategic area.  Four wars have been fought over the canal and the adjacent Sinai, and it remains militarily very important.  The entire 90nm canal is littered with military installations, tents, mobile bridges and weapons.  
We finally idle out the main channel and into the Mediterranean, having finished off the filming, complete with Police escort.  Glassy water and no wind are there to greet us. 

GPS:  35 01.033N  21 15.487ETotal Distance covered:  22,401nmLast 24 hours:  511nm This leg:  712nmAhead of world record:  3,687

Hospitality

Day 58: Hospitality

" We would like to present you with this medal, as a thankyou for coming to Egypt, and for all the good work you are doing."  I'd met the Admiral the previous year, and he was very gracious to us then, but this time is amazing.  My crew and volunteers are scattered down a long, formal table, enjoying a fantastic dinner compliments of the Admiral.  He hands over a silver medal, followed by a larger commemorative steering wheel, and then an enormous bunch of flowers. 

I accept the gifts, and sheepishly thank the hosts for such generosity.
Guilt at not reciprocating the gifts though washes over me.  We'd never really expected anything here, and we have no gifts to give them.  Not even a signed poster or book.  The Egyptian people are a bit of an enigma.  They are incredibly polite and generous, and the banquet here tonight is amazing, but probably not out of the ordinary for here.  I remember a friend of mine Emad back in Australia who typified this generosity of spirit.  He was probably one of the nicest blokes I've ever had the pleasure at meeting, but many of his endearing habits are typical of the Egyptian people. 

And yet on the other side, the Egyptian economy is rife with bribery, corruption and graft, and the people seemingly more intent on scamming things rather than working.  This country exudes the best and the worst of the Arab world I reckon.  I look down the table, and my crew look like a ragged bunch of dogs hanging around the butchers shop, compared with the formal neatness of our Egyptians hosts.  We probably all smell, well the boat crew at least.  But there's also a certain charm about this very egalitarian team, motley and unkempt as they are. 

GPS:  32 05.609N  31 03.821E
Total Distance covered:  21,890nm
Last 24 hours:  201nm (canal transit)
Ahead of world record:  3,426

Half way house

Day 57:  half way house

It was a long night last night.  It took the best part of three hours to change the lift pump, but thankfully this did sort the problem.  The weather had been gradually deteriorating however, and it was a very lumpy sea as we got back up to full speed, exasperated (mmm not sure if that is the right
word) by the minimal fuel we have on board, giving us no options to ballast the bow.  So it's a fatigued but relieved crew as we idle into Port Suez to start refuelling.

"How's the canal transit looking."  Adrian is busy sorting refuelling, and he's already got smears of biodiesel over his face and clothes. 
"Well good and bad", he says slowly.  "If you'd have been here two hours ago, you'd have gotten right through today, but it seems now you'll only get half way today, and then you'll have to complete the transit in the morning."  Which is bad news I guess, but funnily enough I'm not that disappointed.  I know we're close to getting the record if we can just keep our noses clean, and a lost half-day here won't do us too much damage.  I'd allowed a full day in the original schedule anyway.and the thought of my first shower in ages is quite appealing.

"It's cost us four grand in bride money though", Adrian says, almost as an afterthought, "and you're still not through.  "They're bloody burglars here.
Although I've given up trying to work out which money is legitimate and which is a bribe.  "  It's about double what it cost us to get through last year, and its not like we've got 4k spare.  In fact I'm amazed Fiona managed to scrounge any money at all, as we were basically skint in Salalah.  But if
we are through the Canal inside a day I'll settle for that.  

I look at the enormous length of hose, snaking its way around buildings and down to Earthrace, almost 80m away.  "Dodgy looking join", Adam says as I'm eying up where two pieces of hose have been joined together.  There's a piece of pipe inside, and two clamps holding them together, but already there's biodiesel leaking out, and the pump hasn't even started. 
A couple of locals helping us are arguing over it.  They wave their hands around and gesture at each other aggressively. 
"We'll chuck some silicone tape on there to hold it", I say to Adam, who has started to undo the clamps.

A few hours later and our Pilot arrives.  He's very tall and impeccably dressed in white.  "Are you ready to go Captain", he says to me, extending his hand out.  "We have a surprise for you in Ismailya."  Ten minutes later and we idle out into the Suez Canal.

A blockage?

Day 56:  A blockage?

There's a subtle shift in engine tone.  Nothing major - just a slight change in loading for a few seconds and then back to normal.  Mark and I both look at each other, then start poring over the engine display for clues.  Five minutes later and the change comes again, this time for maybe 20 seconds.
The engine speed drops off, fuel burn goes up, and loadings go up.

Probably a blocked air filter, I say to Mark, who is already pulling on his coveralls.  He disappears into the engine bay.  Ten minutes later and we're back up and running with a new filter, but a short time later and the same problem appears. 

"If it isn't air", says Mark, with beads of sweat now dripping off his chin, "its gotta be fuel.  The trouble is we're showing too much fuel.  It doesn't really make sense."
I ponder this for a few minutes.  If we really were burning all the extra fuel, there would be heaps of smoke in the exhaust - but there isn't.  So maybe the engine only thinks it is sending more fuel. 

We continue working the throttles and checking numbers, and discover if we load the engine to only 40%, which still gives us 20 knots, the fault doesn't appear.  So we decide to run with it like that to Port Suez, where we can hopefully trouble shoot the system and get it sorted. 

Or at least that was the plan.  Then around midnight, the fault starts appearing at only 10% load, limiting us to just 16 knots. 
"I reckon it's the lift pump", says Mark confidently, "and that was what Tino reckoned as well."  It's a big job though changing a lift pump, especially in rough seas like we have here.  But we're losing time doing just 16 knots. 

"I'll change it if you want", says Mark, but with a hint of trepidation in his voice.  He's covered in sweat again from his few minutes in the engine bay, and it'll be a horrible job down there in this heat.  We're also all tired from the long day in rough weather.  But we are losing time, and it would be good to have it sorted, or eliminated, as the cause of the problem.

"Yeah lets do it.  I'll wake Adam up to give you a hand."


GPS:  24 23.579N   36 25.344E
Total Distance covered:  21,298nm
Last 24 hours:  514nm
Average speed:  21.4kn
This leg:  1569nm
Ahead of world record:  3,336

Where are you?

Day 55:  Where are you?

"Hey Pete, phone call for you."  It's unusual to get a phone call this late at night.  I scamper up into the helm and grab our Iridium satphone. 
"Hey Pete, Its Michael Morcos here, where are ya?" 
Michael and I worked in the oil industry together, and he's helped out at a couple of key times during the history of Earthrace. 
"Well we're about 300 miles into the red sea", I reply.  "Just follow the links on our website and you can track down where we are." 
There's a long pause as the signal works its way from our phone, to a satellite somewhere in space, and then snakes its way through the phone network to Michael's place in Dubai. 
"I've been following you religiously for the last fifty odd days," his reply finally comes through, "but the tracking must have stopped working.  One link has you nearing Mozambique, while the other still has you stuck in Oman."

The website tracking has two transponders, one on the roof, and one on the horn.  The roof one especially takes a real hammering.  It was sponsored by a company Daestra in New Zealand, and has been beaming out our position for the last two and half years without ever missing a beat.  The trouble is, every wave that comes over the top of us lands on it, and it seems it might have finally succumbed to the beating. 

I finish the phone call, which was so scrambled I couldn't understand much of what Michael was saying anyway, and grab my little LED lenser headlamp to take a look outside.  Sure enough the Daestra transponder has a crack down the side.  It must have taken one wave too many.  We'll get a new one and install it closer to the radar dome for protection next time. I then climb up on the horn to check the second transponder.  Physically it looks fine, so why it isn't working remains a mystery.  There is definitely power to it, but none of the LEDs are lit, so there must be some internal damage. 

I wander back inside and open up the laptop.  There's a bunch of emails from various people, some wondering if we've called off the attempt, some wondering where we are, and a few who figured out the transponders had stopped working.  I diligently reply to them, assuring them all that we are continuing, and on track to get the record, if we can successfully complete these last two legs.


GPS:  16 58.444N   40 54.345E
Total Distance covered:  20,784nm
Distance to go:  2,720nm
Last 24 hours:  516nm
Average speed:  21.5kn
This leg:  1055nm
Ahead of world record:  3,072

Day 54: Boat Speed

It’s been playing on my mind for a few days now.  We seem to have lost some boat speed.  For the amount of fuel we’re burning at the moment, we should be doing around 24 knots, and yet we’re just over 22.  “What’s causing it?”, Adam had said to me the previous day.

Well, a combination of things most probably.  Certainly the propeller we changed in Singapore has had an impact.  The previous one was the very latest from Hytorque in Canada, and it was super-efficient, especially compared with the older prop we’ve now put on.  Also the repairs we did in Singapore will have had an adverse affect. The P-Bracket is now fatter and with a slightly rough surface, which wouldn’t help. Finally repairs to the bow and rudder were relatively rough, and these would all add slightly to drag.  It surprises me though that we’ve lost so much speed.

“What does it matter?”, Adam had replied  “A one or two knot difference will not really affect us will it.  As long as we finish we should get the record.”

Which is mostly correct.  It’ll affect our times a little bit, but probably not by enough to stop us getting the record.  I’d still like to know where all the speed has gone though, in case there are other things also affecting us, and that may get worse.  But right now I can’t think of anything.


GPS:  12 22.967N   46 51.093E
Total Distance covered:  20,076nm
Last 24 hours:  494nm
Average speed:  20.5kn
This leg:  539nm
Ahead of world record:  2,806nm

Day 53: Oman

“Just tying off the last of the fenders”, Mark’s voice crackles to me over the radio.  I look out the starboard window and can just make out Adam clambering down the side with one of the Taylor Made fenders.  We actually had one of these fenders last year, and it became known as trusty.  It didn’t matter where you put him, he wouldn’t let you down.  He was also the only fender that really worked on the aft end of the sponsons because of his unusual shape.  He quickly became our favourite fender, until he was eventually stolen in Florida.  So when Taylor Made offered us half a dozen trusties earlier this year we jumped at the chance.

A few minutes later and we’re tied off in Salalah, and clambering ashore to clear customs and get loaded.  It’s a weird sensation each time we get ashore.  The people, the smells, the sounds, they all are so attractive relative to the blandness we get immersed in on each leg, and so you linger, wanting to talk to people and soak up the atmosphere.  For everyone on the dock it is nothing special, for us it is a real treat to just experience some fresh faces and voices.  It’s also a struggle motivating yourself to get working.  We’re only in port for a few hours, and while we know we must head back out to sea as quickly as we can, the temptation is to delay the jobs and hang around a little longer.

“No filming”, Fiona suddenly barks at Rob.
“Why not”, he says innocently.
“Because we’re not allowed to.  And you already knew this.”  Fiona has her School Teacher voice going which works really well on several of the lads.
“Yeah but what about all of these guys”, says Rob angrily, gesturing with his arms at all the locals busy photographing and filming Earthrace.
Fiona pauses and looks flustered.  “Look check with the agent”, she says finally, “but we were told very specifically no filming.”  Rob wanders off looking for the agent, who is busy clearing paperwork for the fuel.

In terms of sights, the Salalah port is actually pretty ordinary.  It could be any other medium sized port around the world, with just the local Arab garb giving things away. Even then there’s only a handful wearing the traditional clothes, the rest being labourers and foreign workers.

It turns into a long stop. Almost five hours in fact.  There’s an increasing feeling of guilt as I try and extricate Tino and the Cummins Mercruiser Technicians from the engine bay.  Tino can be like a limpet.  Once he gets near the engines it is hard to remove him.  Which is a good thing in some respects, as I know he’ll have everything sorted by the time he leaves.  But it is frustrating to see precious time ticking away like this while the boat and crew sit idle.

“All finished boss.”  Tino finally emerges from the engine bay, oil and grease covering his face and stomach.  “Let’s get ready to rumble”, he yells at Rob, who has been happily filming for the last few hours.  Hasta la vista baby!”


GPS:  16 28.250N   53 31.867E
Total Distance covered:  19782nm
Last 24 hours:  254nm (monsoon and port stop)
This leg:  45nm
Ahead of world record:  2,562nm

Day 52: Monotony

“I’m bored”, says Mark, with a sudden burst of energy.  He jumps up from the driver’s seat and collapses in a heap on the beanbag, a small puff of beans squirting out from under him.  The beanbag has seen better days.  It’s now covered in gaffa tape, but it seems every few days a new tear or hole appears.

Mark fossicks for a few moments in our blue bin for a book, and emerges triumphant.  “Actually, I think I’ll read this”, he says slowly, holding up a copy of the Bible.  “I’ve promised Jen I’d read it one day anyway.  He opens the cover and starts reading aloud.  “In the beginning, God created the heavens and earth.”

I settle back to the movie I’ve been watching on Ipod.  It’s Apocolypto, which is a Mel Gibson movie.  After he directed “Passion of the Christ”, I went off Mel Gibson.  It seemed like just 2-1/2 hours of groaning.  Thankfully he redeemed himself with Apocolypto, which is a brilliant movie.  Probably one my daughter Danielle would really enjoy I reckon.

There’s a sudden whooshing sound as we pass through a wave.  We’re going really slowly, but even so, every now and then a wave goes over the top of us.  The waves have eased back a bit overnight.  Just 3-4 metres now, and the wind has also died down a bit.  From here the conditions should gradually improve over the next few days as we head towards the Red Sea. 

It’s been a torrid week though.  This is now our sixth day of monsoon, and everyone has had enough.  We all seem to seek escape in one way or another.  We just want to be passed the crap weather, so the quicker we can pass our time right now the better. For several of us its movies and tv programs loaded on Ipods.  The trouble is we’ve seen nearly everything already, so we’re starting to watch reruns.  Music is the other escape.  I’ve listened to so many great albums on our fantastic Fusion system over the last 50 odd days, although nothing to replace Kora, Module and Tiki Taane albums as my favourites.

I look over at Mark who is now deeply engrossed in his book.  No doubt with some serpent telling Eve to eat an apple.  Or thereabouts.  While my movie has people being sacrificed.

GPS:  16 36.299N   057 33.700E
Total Distance covered:  19528nm
Last 24 hours:  263nm (monsoon)
This leg:  1178nm
Average speed:  11kn (monsoon)
Ahead of world record:  2,558nm

Day 51: Monsoon

It’s several minutes before the Lacie hard-drive has completed downloading all the photos from Singapore.  It whirs away sucking down the last of them from my laptop, and I begin the slow process of picking out the best of them.  “That’s a great shot”, says Adam, admiring one of him on top of a giant tug fender.  There’s a certain rugged beauty about the Semco salvage yard that contrasts so starkly with all the rest of Singapore that we saw.  Should be some awesome footage from there I reckon. 

I’m suddenly jolted, as a 6m wave smacks us from the side.  The waves have been gradually increasing over the last 24 hours, and they’ve also slowly been swinging towards our port beam.  It remains a confused sea though, with many waves still steaming down directly on our bow.  The monsoon is certainly in full swing, and the spray we send up shoots horizontally across our bow.

“How much longer we gonna be in this”, says Rob, looking gloomily out at the angry sea.  He’s on his second shift of the day, and like all of us, he’s had enough of the monsoon.  ”Well, we’ve got another day like this, then maybe another 2 or 3 where we’ll be in monsoon, but just not this bad.”

”You mean past Oman”? “Yep.  All the way up the Gulf of Aden.”  Rob frowns, and pulls his Sennheiser headphones back up over his ears.

The monsoon is actually a trade wind.  Arab traders would sail their vessels from the Middle East to India and Asia, utilising the westerly winds over the next few months.  Unlike most trade winds however, this one reverses its direction later in the year, allowing the traders to then return, again with the wind behind them.  Right now, however, the wind is against us, and it sure is grinding us down. Bring on the Red Sea.
 

GPS:  15 46.623N  61 57.120E
Total Distance covered:  19,265nm
Last 24 hours:  265nm (monsoon)
This leg:  915nm
Average speed:  11.0kn (monsoon)
Ahead of world record:  2,545nm