TWC Quick Hits…

Al Qaeda May Have Developed Terrorist Naval Force Of 15-30 Vessels: Rum and sodomy banned. But lash very popular…

‘Agamemnon,’ Lord Nelson’s Favorite Ship, Found Off Coast Of Uruguay: Ship on which Nelson lost an eye and seduced Lady Hamilton (note: incidents were separate); “This is one of the most important maritime finds in history”…

Penguin Jokester (click for very funny clip): Thanks again to Dave Ross…



“Heh-heh. Sometimes I laugh so hard I fall over myself…”

The Perils of Cheyenne–Flying Fish Attack: Steve Fossett and his crew are rocketing toward the finish and projecting a 58-day circumnavigation if the mast stays up, if the hulls stay pinned together, if the mainsail doesn’t split, if they don’t hit anything, if….you get the picture. Quick stats: 483 miles run last 24 hours, 2000 miles to go, 4 1/2 days ahead of Orange 2002. For now, the major threat is flying fish. Here’s watch captain Brian Thompson, on some sweet sailing:

“Last night was another good night, with the bonus of seeing the pole star, polaris, for the first time. It was almost on the bow, and a great reference to steer by. High above us, the moon was illuminating the boat brilliantly for most of the night, and will guide us in all the way to the finish now, getting bigger night by night. This moonlight did not help the flying fish who must have bad night vision. It was looking like a fish market and at dawn I threw out at least 20 from the leeward cockpit, and apparently the watches before also spent time clearing out the scuppers.

I saved a couple of the biggest ones for Nick to photograph, and on receiving them he proceeded to get out his knife and cut them up. I thought it might be out of scientific curiosity, but when the pressure cooker and tabasco sauce came out, it became clear he had suspicious culinary motives. In fact, I had some of the results, and they were delicious. It made a great change from the freeze dried food of the last 53 days.”

Cheyenne also raced close by a 40-foot cruising yacht doing about 25 knots. Surprised the hell out of the skipper, who popped his head up just as she flashed by….



“Steve? Steve? Please let me come down now. I promise I’ll never stink up the boat with flying fish casserole again…”

(Photo: Nick Leggatt)

The Hell With Mother Nature–Indoor Windsurfing Kicks Ass: The Professional Windsurfers Association went to France’s Bercy Stadium for their latest indoor blast-fest. A line of massive fans, putting out 20-plus knot winds, sent some of the best boarders in the world skittering around the pool at warp speed, and up into the air for jawdropping freestyle action. Check out the event summary here. And, more important, the photo gallery here.



“Look, Ma, one hand!…Wait a sec, how the hell am I going to land this f*cker?

(Photo: Brendan Pyatt)

Wetass Video Of The Week…Go Commando?: Never step into a bullfight ring wearing underwear…Click Here to Download Clip and Find Out Why (Windows Media Player required)



“Fruit Of The Loom, Hanes, I love ’em all…”

(Thanks to Dave Ross, self-described “NO 1 WETASS FAN and COMPLETE CHICKEN”)

JV Jumble–Sub-60?: It’ll probably jinx them to mention this, and cause the mast to fall down or the rudders to fall off, but here I go…If Cheyenne puts up decent average speeds for the next week, she has a very good chance of becoming the first sailboat to sail all the way around the globe in under 60 days. Here’s the math: Cheyenne has 7 days to sail about 2500 miles. That means Fossett and his team have to squeeze just 350 miles a day out of their battered boat, which is an average of less than 15 knots (click here for all the numbers). They routinely cruise at 18-20 in decent wind (and just sailed 430 miles in the last 24 hours), so this all comes down to the weather, and (“thank-you Neptune”) the weather is cooperating big-time. As it happens, there is a handy-dandy little low pressure cell developing in just the right place to send them screaming downwind for the finish. The hard part will be judging how much stress the boat is under and avoiding a catastrophic breakdown. Can you imagine how Fossett and his crew would feel after almost two months at sea to drop their rig when the record is almost a certainty? I don’t think anyone will sleep much in the coming week. They’ll be spending all their time examining and monitoring every little critical terminal fitting, and trying to avoid running over any floating containers or other junk in the sea. If they survive and nail 60 days it will be an incredible achievement (particularly given all the breakdowns), the equivalent of the 4-minute mile, and probably very close to the limit of what this current generation of maxi-multihulls can do. For comparison, the first non-stop voyage around the globe, in 1968, took 313 days. The first sub-80 day circumnavigation was achieved ten years ago. Fifty-five days might just be possible with perfect weather and a newer generation of maxi-cat, like Bruno Peyron’s latest Orange. I think sub-50 is impossible in anything we currently recognize as a sailboat. Stay tuned. This is going to get tense…



“Hey, Steve. I found this little bugger nibbling at our rudder stock. Funny, he only speaks French….”

(Photo: Nick Leggatt)

Annals Of Aspiration–15 Days Underwater?: An Englishman (why are these guys so often English?) is planning to try and smash the world record for living underwater, which currently stands at 8 days. Mark Webber thinks he can take sub aqua existence for up to 15 days and has had a special tank delivered to a warehouse near his home. The tank has a bed in it and Webber plans to sleep at regular intervals, while wearing a full face mask that provides him with oxygen. What about boredom? Oh, Webber plans to spend his time playing tic-tac-toe on the glass tank wall with visitors, and may even invite another diver or two into the tank for some underwater chess. Good thinking, Dude, but aren’t you forgetting some, err, more basic practical issues? Like eating and drinking? And, umm, peeing and ummm….? Do pet stores even have filters that big? Just asking….



“Thanks for inviting us to play hockey, Mark. But why am I getting this nasty rash all over my body?

Arctic Agony–Skivvy Break: It’s been a while since we checked in on Englishman Ben Saunders, who is skiing solo across the Arctic Ocean, from Russia to Canada via the North Pole. We didn’t miss much. It’s cold. It’s hard. It’s white. But yesterday Ben came in with a pretty good description of how much effort it takes to be out there skiing and pulling a sledge. Plus, he’s been out there four weeks and is almost at the 100 mile mark (just 814 to go!; click here for a route map). So, over to you, Ben:

“A new record today – nine hours of skiing. The mileage wasn’t spectacular, thanks to a dozen or so enormous pressure ridges, but I’m happy – a shade under seven nautical miles, my boot repair held together and I’ve just had beef stew for supper. Mmnn.

To get a rough idea of how my day went, head to your nearest gym, turn the air conditioning down to -30 or so, find one of those cross trainer machines and churn away on the highest setting for nine hours. To simulate the pressure ridges every 30-40 minutes, fill a plastic bathtub with the entire dumbell rack, head outside, drag it up the steps of the fire escape until you’re on the roof, lower it down the other side, stop to break the icicle off your nose and return to the cross trainer.

In a weird way, I really enjoyed today and I can’t believe I’ve been out here for nearly four weeks. Time to contemplate my first underwear change, I suppose…”

Interesting info, Ben. Apparently Arctic adventurers endure the same pair of underwear for roughly the same amount of time Southern Ocean sailors go without a change. Coincidence? The main difference is that Ben has a much higher risk of a highly inconvenient frostbite when he makes the swap…



What About Peary?: “Underwear? Underwear? We didn’t even wear it!…Which of course helped keep the polar bears away.”

JV Slugfest–Cheyenne Disintegrating: It’s going to be a miracle if Cheyenne makes it to the finish without falling apart completely. The latest near-disaster was discovered when some odd creaking was heard from the starboard bow area. After so many miles, these guys are tuned to every “normal” sound the boat makes, so the new noise sent Fossett and Nick Leggatt racing to the bow. What did they find? Oh, just that the hull was about to separate from the beam. Fossett picks up the tale:

“The carbon and steel bushing holding the front beam to the boat had broken in the middle and worked out halfway on one side. Another two hours of this upwind sailing and it would have finished coming out, the beam separated, and the mast fallen over from lack of support. That was a close call.

We slowed and the crew went to work trying to pound it back in to place. It only went part way back in. Then the drilling and bolting was started. The whole operation was completed in four hours. This temporary fix is likely to hold until the finish, but we have to take it easy on the boat. What a shame, because we have an excellent wind pattern into the finish and we would love to pour it on. Instead we are sailing slower and conservatively.

We will be relieved on Wednesday when we are done with this pounding from sailing upwind in the Tradewinds.”

You can click here if you’d like a more detailed account from Watch Captain Brian Thompson. It’s hard to push the boat when you are always worrying about something important breaking. But one of Fossett’s strengths is the ability to impose tight discipline in situations like this. Even though it’s apparent that the weather forecast is starting to look pretty good for a fast finish, and that Cheyenne has a shot at a sub-60 day circumnavigation, Fossett is the kind of guy who will make the crew sail at 10 knots all the way home if that’s what it will take to get the boat home safely and ahead of the record–even if he breaks it by just five minutes. We’ll see how it goes…



“Hmm. I wonder what the rules say about starting as a catamaran and finishing as a monohull. Better check it out…”

JV Slugfest I–Geronimo Reeling: Life has been brutal aboard Geronimo for the past few days as they try to survive a true Southern Ocean storm. De Kersauson and his team have worked their way north, which has reduced the blast they are enduring from 50 knots to 35 knots. But The Admiral has been shaken by the experience and even hints that they may have to abandon their attempt if the risk of capsize becomes too great. Ironically, they are still more than 600 miles ahead of Orange 2002 (though significantly behind Cheyenne’s pace). It’s rare to hear De Kersauson so beaten, which is a measure of how bad things have been:

“We’re not racing anymore, we are just suffering,” De Kersauson said from the boat. “The sea is incredibly violent, dangerous, hard, icy and dense. It’s moving from the pack ice up to our latitudes and further at between 30 and 35 knots. I’ve been here many times before, but I’ve never been attacked like this – I get the impression that it’s already winter and we’re too late. The sea is coming at us from the south and the wind is beam-on to our route. We’re surfing at 35 knots with very little canvas. It’s not the wind that’s giving us the problem, because if it were, then all we’d have to do is shorten sail and Geronimo would stay manageable. As things are, it’s the sea that’s making the decisions and sending us off downwind or wherever it wants. It’s wholesale slaughter. We’re trying to get further south at the moment, because if it carries on the way it is, we won’t even be able to get round Cape Horn. The depression is a long way north and very active. It’s blocking our route and forcing us as far north as 48 or even 46° – it’s sidelining us. We’ve still had no breakages on Geronimo, either because the boat’s so well made or because it’s a miracle. What’s certain is that we can’t stay in seas like this for too long, because something’s bound to get broken sooner rather than later. I’m looking at it from every angle, but I can’t see any way out. The door is closed. This depression spreads over 5° from north to south and 20° from east to west. We’re already 4° further north, but it’s not enough. We’re going to be forced to go 8 or 9° – nearly 1000 kilometres… To put it bluntly, things are not good…

There’s no fun in it, no competition, what we’re doing now has nothing to do with a record. This crew is all about attacking, but for four days, we’ve done nothing but curl into a ball and submit. The guys are physically worn out. It’s impossible to sleep below decks and above decks, things are really wild. Geronimo is surfing at between 25 and 27 knots under mast alone. It’s out of hand and exhausting. Didier (Ragot) has been confined to his berth for three and a half days after damaging his lower back. Otherwise, nothing’s broken, nothing’s fractured, no open cuts, just bruises and terrible fatigue. It’s sheer brutality coming from every side…

We’ve been off course for 4 days. We’re just surviving, and like all survivors, we hope that things will get better in the next 48 hours. If nothing changes, the only thing we’ll be able to do is to run for the north and not round the Horn at all…In 2 or 3 days, we’ll have to evaluate the true risk. As things are, we can’t risk capsizing the boat. At this time of the year, in these waters… we’re not in the North Atlantic where there are people around. If you capsize here, you’re dead.”

Chilling stuff, and it’s hard to second guess the guy. It must be a nightmare out there. Hope things improve, because these sailors deserve a break and it would be nice to see them finish…



“I’m so damn tired. Maybe I’m finally getting too old for this sh*t….”

Bandwidth Boner: Too much traffic, too many pictures, not enough bandwidth. Oops. Sorry. Fixed now…