Bulletin: 30th December 2007

TEMENOS II expected in Wellington in 2 days time
 
Despite the light winds being served up in the Tasman Sea, TEMENOS II was still making headway at a very honourable speed under small gennaker, the large one still in the sail locker since problems with the sail on 7th December. The boat, which should fall into a very light patch of wind, is likely to be slowed again over the coming hours. It is expected in the port of Wellington from Tuesday 1st January, towards the latter part of the day (French time).

Benefiting from this calm weather, Michèle sends us a message in which she evokes her state of mind with less than two days to go till this technical pit-stop.

Hundreds of tiny shrimps invade TEMENOS II

"The land is just 100 miles abeam of us. Today we're sailing along the West coast of South Island at 15 knots, wind at 280, it’s perfect! TEMENOS II seems to be appreciating this calm weather after the fury of the past 48 hours. There are gentle, flatter seas and even though we’re still in a universe dominated by grey, we feel like we’re finally out of the ‘tunnel’ of the Indian Ocean. For the time being we’re holding onto a little more wind than that forecast and behind us, Mutua Madrilena is caught in the clutches of the high pressure, whilst ahead of us the leading duo are hot footing it away from us.

The proximity of the coast is waking our ‘land lubber' instincts, and is reminding us of all the things we'd forgotten, blacked out or forbidden on board, all the comfort and well being which we often forget to appreciate the true worth of when we're on land. Our minds stray a little, the nose sniffs out the aromas of land, like that of the scrubland when you make the coast of Corsica in the early hours. What does the South Island of New Zealand smell like? Sheep perhaps?! Nothing could be less certain, and with the wind blowing at 280, I’m not likely to find out straightaway.

Tomorrow we should close on this magnificent coastline a bit more, as the wind is set to drop away momentarily.
Next up, a very localised gale is forecast in the Cook Straits. As a result we’re expecting a pretty sporty start to 2008.

For the time being there is no sign of life around us. We still haven't seen land nor passed any other boat. Our companions the birds have left us. Maybe we weren’t quick enough for them, or did they sense that we were going to leave their universe momentarily?

We'll find them again as soon as we head South once more, we know they'll wait for us 'down there'. Sometimes at the helm, I shout at them, trying to communicate with them. I 'flap my arms' trying to make them believe that I’m a fellow bird. It makes me laugh and speaks volumes to Dominique who wonders what kind of state I’m in and if, at the end of the day, it was reasonable of him to bring me here!

Michéle picking up the shrimps from the deck

I examine this grey circle that the ocean forms all around us. I’d like to be the first to spot land, the first boat, as if to make this first part of the race and these 50 days of oceans concrete. For me it’s a bit like a baptism. It’s the longest period I’ve spent at sea, up till now I’d 'only' sailed for 30 days, in the Deep South.

Whether the race will have a next instalment or not we find out soon, but already we’ve had these past 50 days. The maritime experience is considerable and the experience on a human level has been great. I don’t want to believe that it may well be over in Wellington. I’m sweeping this thought from my mind and remain in the race with Dom and the blue boat.

We have refined the jobs list aboard during this stopover and there are a fair amount of little things to do to make the most of these 'lost' hours, including of course a thorough inspection, hopefully culminating with a rapid repair of the keel…

Michèle"