Southern Ocean Scuffle–First Blood: Well, Cheyenne managed 485 miles toward Cape Horn in brutal conditions, but she got the crap kicked out of her while she was doing it. Next up in the firing line–following Guillermo Altadill’s drubbing at the wheel–was Nick Leggatt. With green water coming over the side, Leggatt was thrown face-first into the compass binnacle, opening up a nasty gash. Here’s Nick’s description:

“I was on watch, standing in my customary position in front of the wheel. Damian was on the helm, doing a good job in rather difficult conditions. We were reaching under double reefed main and solent, and getting a lot of green water over the boat as the wind and seas have picked up ahead of an approaching storm. One hour earlier Guillermo had been on the helm and after being hit by a huge wave he was left unable to breath for a few moments, in a crumpled heap on the deck aft of the wheel.

Since then we throttled back the speed as much as we could and were trying to keep it to under 25 knots to minimize the risk of damage but even then when the wave hit me it was a good solid one. There was not much I could do other than wait for the binnacle to use my head to stop me getting washed overboard.

The good news is that it was only my head that was damaged – so no vital organs to worry about there – and at least the cut is in the shape of another smile. Dr. Scully and Nurse Slattery did a great job of cleaning everything up and taping it all together, and then I was given a bit of bed rest to make sure that it didn’t all open up again and I wasn’t concussed. All ready for action once again.

Dave says that I must make sure I don’t get the wound wet and he is putting me on antibiotics. Not sure if he joking about not getting the wound wet in a Southern Ocean storm!”

It wasn’t all in vain, because Cheyenne’s lead over Orange 2002 is back up over 200 miles (chart here). But the stress of these conditions is starting to prey on the crew, and the approach to Cape Horn–2400 miles away– is looming. Rounding Cape Horn is one of the most dangerous points in the voyage, because boats are forced south to 57 degrees South, right into the heart of the Southern Ocean storm track. And if a massive storm just happens to arrive at the same time, well……

Back in the Atlantic, Geronimo notched up 488 miles, to give her a big lead over Orange 2002 and a small lead over the recent ghost of Cheyenne. De Kersauson and his crew have been going over the boat carefully to get ready for the Southern Ocean, and are crossing their fingers in the hopes that they don’t find any icebergs as they rocket south…



Lacerated Leggatt: “And I thought sailing was such a nice, easy sport….”

Wetass Profiles–Snowboarder Steve Klassen: He’s a snowboarding legend, and now he’s designing some of the best boards in the business. MountainZone checks in with him, and asks him to describe the run that won the 2003 Verbier Extreme competition:

“Well, I tried to get through the top section fast and relaxed to conserve my energy. My run really started when I launched that first big (40ft) cliff. When I landed, I had a little more speed than I expected, but I was prepared for anything off of that first cliff so I was sure that I could clear the next rock band. At the bottom of the course there’s a bit more room for freestyle, so I threw a corked seven off the next drop. The landing wasn’t as clean as it could have been, so I stuck a back flip off the very last cliff, just before the finish line.”

Well, okay then. See the full interview here.



Chamonix, 2003: “Dum-de-dum-de-dum…”

Arctic Agonies–Wetass Hero Dominick Missing…: It’s a brutal season up on the Arctic ice. French-born Dominick Arduin wanted to become the first woman to trek solo to the North Pole. To do that, and get into the record books, she had to start from terra firma. So when she faced 50 kms of open water off Cape Arkticheskiy instead of the usual pack ice she made a gutsy, gutsy decision: instead of accepting a helicopter ride over the open water with some of the other adventurers–and giving up on her ambitions–she decided to try and paddle across in a kayak. Arduin estimated it would take her two days when she set off last Friday. But strong winds and storms quickly swept into the region and she hasn’t been heard from since. Russian authorities are desperately looking for her but their helicopters have been grounded until tomorrow by the bad weather. It’s not looking good…

Meanwhile, Frederic Chamar-Boudet (who also turned down the helo ride and tried to ski around the open water) barely escaped with his life after falling through some thin ice without his drysuit on. Frederic suffered severe frostbite of his hands and feet, but Russian rescuers managed to find him and helicopter him to safety. The rest of the Arctic adventurers hunkered down in their tents to ride out the blast. It’s very, very ugly up there on the ice pack. Here are some excerpts from Wave Vidmar and Ben Saunders, written at the height of the storm:

Wave: “It’s blowing 30kts, with gusts of 50-65kts. I was going to continue on in-spite of the weather, but my tent is difficult to put up when it’s calm, which could be dangerous or deadly in a storm. Visibility is very limited (about 40 feet), and yesterday I saw a huge expanse of open water just to the East…

Night is upon me, which means darkness and more cold. The ice forming inside my tent is violently shaken off by the winds, and lands uncomfortably on my face. The winds have intensified and no longer is it just gusting 50-65+ – I hope my tent holds-up, I don’t fall into the frigid ocean, or be crushed by colliding ice.”

Ben: “Telltale signs you’ve chosen the wrong holiday destination no. 12: you start using your freshly filled pee bottle as a hand warmer before tipping it away…

Last night was unreal – the kind of weather I’d expect in Antarctica rather than up here – howling, battering, tent pole-flexing winds and blown snow part-burying the tent. The good part is that the storm blew me TEN nautical miles north in 24 hours. It was hard to tell with the tent flapping around, but at times I’d swear I could feel the ice moving. I didn’t sleep much, but thanks to my trusty Hilleberg tent, I’m still here. Amazing.

My thoughts today are also with Frederic Chamar-Boudet and Dominique Arduin…Sometimes the Arctic is the most beautiful place on earth. Others, it’s the scariest.”

Stay tuned…



Beautiful….And Scary

JV Jamboree–Geronimo On Pace, Cheyenne In Survival Mode: Olivier De Kersauson and his merry crew only knocked off 368 miles on Day 13, but they are still about 90 miles ahead of Orange 2002, and neck and neck with Cheyenne’s pace through this part of her record run. So The Admiral can’t be too grouchy, and there is more wind on the way, which will give his big trimaran the push into the Roaring Forties he’s been waiting for. Now, we’ll see whether he can match Cheyenne’s impressive Southern Ocean legs.

Cheyenne has indeed been blazing fast in the Southern Ocean. But after a string of 7 500-plus mile days the big cat finally slowed to just 478 miles. Cheyenne’s course has also been slow, as she headed north to avoid the worst of a storm passing between her and Antarctica, taking her away from the next mark, Cape Horn. That’s reduced the lead over Orange 2002 to about 1850 miles (i.e. they gave up a day of a five day lead; chart here). Fossett has gybed southeast again, but will have some rough sailing over the next two days as Cheyenne has to push hard through winds over 30 knots and confused seas in an attempt to outrun the light winds of a massive high pressure system sneaking up on them. It ain’t easy out there, right now. Here’s Fossett:

“Now more trouble. The spinnaker halyard broke and this big sail was draped over the deck and being pulled into the water. ‘All hands’ managed to muscle it back on board and get it stowed below. The winds are building as our first storm front is approaching and it is too rough to send someone to the top of mast to get the halyard back in so we are done with the spinnaker. Our jibs will be our downwind headsails between here and Cape Horn.

In addition to being slower, we also have a worse angle to the waves. Already a wave has come over the side and knocked down the helmsman Guillermo Altadill and the other crew on deck. Guillermo had the wind knocked out of him and may have bruised ribs but continues on his sailing watch. It’s dangerous on deck.

The wind and seas will build over the next 24 hours. We will be hunkered down in survival mode until this major cold front passes over us.”



Guillermo Fending Off Another Southern Ocean Wave, 2001: “Hey! Stay back! Please…Por Favor…Mama!!!”

(Photo: Club Med)

Annals Of Inanity–RoboRace: Best not to be a jackrabit in the desert this weekend on a line between Barstow, CA and Primm, NV. Because that’s when up to 25 robotic vehicles will be racing the 250 miles of sand, scrub and ravines that separate the two towns (basically it’s LA to Las Vegas). The vehicles will be entirely autonomous–no human control or input allowed–and if any of them can survive the course and get to Primm in under 10 hours they will receive Dr. Evil’s favorite sum: One…Million….Dollars. The contest–called the Darpa Grand Challenge— is geek nirvana and is the brainchild of the Pentagon’s Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency, which is always looking for innovation. So what are the challengers like? Well, let’s see. At the brutish end of the scale there’s a Humvee that’s decked out with a full Itanium server, cameras, radar and laser range-finding sensors. This baby will try to go around obstacles, but its builders from Carnegie Mellon are hoping its got the grunt to go over and through them, too. At the other end of the scale–the elegant, graceful end–there is “Ghost Rider,” a motorcycle that uses a highly sophisticated inertial measurement unit similar to that of the Segway to stay upright, while it weaves its way around obstacles detected by its front-mounted camera. And in the middle, there is a stripped out Dune Buggy with an electric motor, a generator, and a buttload of computing power onboard. “I like to think of our vehicle as a cockroach scuttling across the floor,” says the builder. “It goes pretty quickly; it’s not that intelligent; it doesn’t see everything in great detail, and it doesn’t see anything directly in front of it.” (Okay, I’m not putting my money on this one). Gentlemen, I mean microprocessors, start your engines! This thing is going to be a riot, with a lot of twisted metal and fried computers littering the desert….



A Hummer with no driver? Now, there’s a good idea….

(Photo: Red Team Racing)

Annals of Achievement–Jean Luc Van Den Heede Smashes Solo Westabout Record: It took him four attempts. But last night, good ol’ VDH sailed his aluminum cutter Adrien across the finish line in the English Channel after the fastest solo passage going the wrong way around the world–which is to say against the prevailing winds, which is to say the really, really hard way, which is to say the crazy way. His time: 122 days, 14 hours, 3 minutes, and 49 seconds. That comes to, let’s see….a full 29 days, 5 hours, 50 minutes and 47 seconds faster than Philippe Monnet’s old record! Holy Merde! That’s not just a new record, that’s a whole new standard. Hail VDH!



VDH Comes Sailing Home: “Hi guys! Did you miss me?”

JV Jumble–Just Another Day At The Office: Ho-hum. Now, we’ve got both Geronimo and Cheyenne clocking up 500-plus mile days (Cheyenne did 557 and Geronimo ran off 517). Thanks to sailing more than 1000 miles in two days, Geronimo is finally about 92 miles ahead of Orange 2002’s pace, and has also snuck ahead of Cheyenne’s position at the same point in her voyage. De Kersauson still has a lot of work to do, though. Halfway around the bottom of the world, Cheyenne is now about five days and 2200 miles ahead of Orange 2002 (chart here) and working her way north to get out of the way of a big Southern Ocean depression that is barreling towards her to the south. Are the crewed worried? No. Are they having a blast? Well, here’s Justin Slattery on what he’s feeling:

“My last watch was probably the most fun watch I’ve had so far. Two hrs into our watch Jack Vincent my watch leader (and seven times around the world veteran of Volvo’s, Whitbread’s, Jules Verne attempts – you name it!) passed the helm over to me at a heading of 75 degrees, just north of east at a speed of 30 kts. For the next hour and a half I drove at speeds of between 27 and 34.6 kts, Cheyenne just seemed to be loving the conditions surfing from one wave to the next in 25 to 27 kts of wind at 130 degrees true wind angle with solent and one reef in the main. Hard to describe the feeling!”



Fearful (and Fuzzy) Fossett: “Everyone off their asses and back to work! Can’t…let…De Kersauson…catch…us…”

(Photo: Nick Leggatt)

Wetass Hall of Fame–Surf’s Up, Again…And Again…And Yet Again: Dale Webster is 55 and very, very tired. Why? Well, how about because a week ago, on Sunday February 29, he completed his 10,407th straight day of surfing. He’s been at it for more than 28 years, and hadn’t missed a day since he started in 1975, and then pledged on Sunday, February 29, 1976 (a Leap Day) to continue to surf every day until Leap Day fell again on a fifth Sunday in February. Maybe he didn’t realize at the time that he was committing himself to almost 3 decades of riding the waves. Maybe he did. Either way, he stuck to it and pulled off one of the most pointless–yet undeniably inspiring–surfing quests in the history of a sport with no shortage of pointless quests. At 10,000 days he went into the Guinness Book of World Records. At 10,407 he retires into the Wetass Hall of Fame. Here’s part of what one Cali paper, the Press Democrat had to say about the feat:

“There were costs– financial, physical and emotional. Webster put off marriage for 10 years while his girlfriend, Kaye, now his wife, recorded the daily surfings for posterity. He took low-paying night jobs so his mornings would be free. He never went on vacation.

Now he needs ear surgery to remove calcium deposits built up by the relentless exposure to water. His eyes are partially covered with scar tissue from too many years of looking into the sun.

He remembers the morning he woke to such excruciating pain that his wife had to drive him to the beach and he crawled on his hands and knees to the edge of the water. After he’d surfed, his wife drove him to the hospital where doctors said he was passing kidney stones.”

I am not making this up, I swear….



Weary Webster: “I was in the water so damn much, I shrunk….”

Arctic Antics–Guess What? It’s F*cking Freezing…: Both Wave Vidmar and Ben Saunders decided not to swim the 50 kms of open water around Cape Arkticheskiy (believe it or not, Dominick Arduin–who’s attempting to become the first woman to solo the Pole–and a French dude, Frédéric Chamard-Boudet (total Wetasses, apparently), are insisting on paddling across the frigid sea), and got helicoptered to the nearest solid ice to begin their Arctic treks. Yes, it means that technically they won’t have completed a North Pole solo (Wave) or a full trans-Arctic Ocean traverse (Ben). But, really, can you blame them? In any case, it’s not making their expeditions appreciably easier. Here are some excerpts from their first days on the ice pack, as they slowly work toward the Pole:

Wave Vidmar: “I’m nestled in my sleeping bag. It’s damp inside because I must sleep in a vapor barrier to keep my body moisture from escaping and freezing into blocks of ice in my sleeping bag. The vapor barrier is like one big plastic bag…It’s also crowded inside my bag, as I have my water bottle, GPS, satellite phone, connection cables, camera, PDA, and pee bottle inside with me – to keep them warm.

It’s very cold out, how cold I do not know yet. My thermometer stopped working at -35f, and it’s colder than that. At these low temps every move is calculated and planned, from getting dressed to eating to going to the bathroom…I skied across lots of thin ice. It feels solid but I jumped up and down (slowly) and felt it give, swaying and undulating from my movement. I also skied over many pressure ridges, though they were relatively small.

Polar bear tracking were spotted, though they were somewhat old and not too big. They are a constant threat, but I don’t worry too much about them.”

Ben Saunders: “I shared my drop off flight yesterday with Wave Vidmar, Bettina Aller from Denmark and her boyfriend Jean-Gabriel. Bettina and J-G set off first, with light sledges (they are being resupplied) and the four of us have been within view of each other ever since…After stopping early yesterday, I passed Wave’s camp site this morning and shouted ‘morning!’ as I trundled past. Very surreal. I guess it will take a couple of days for us to lose each other.

I spent most of today skiing over a MASSIVE area of very new, very thin ice. Great conditions for getting some speed up, but pretty scary on this scale – impossible to camp on and prone to breaking up. I stuck the tent up as soon as it ended…The physical strain is immense, but it’s the mental part that’s hardest to deal with – the self-doubt, the monotony, the loneliness and the fear of failure.

I silenced some of the demons today by listening to my mp3 player. The difference it makes is amazing, and up here, no one can see you playing air guitar with a ski pole…I’m currently at N82’02.2 which means I’ve covered 13 miles since I was dropped off. It feels more like 300…

I keep breaking things – my ski skins are coming loose, I’ve torn part of my left boot off, broken my sleeping bag zip and bent a tent peg. And I’m only on day bloomin’ four…

A tough day today (can you spot a recurring theme here?) and a hard won 3.4 nautical miles in the bag. The ice was worse today – loads of rubble and a fast opening lead (crack in the ice) at the end of the day. It was too wide to jump and too difficult to ski around, so I decided to do something really bonkers. Swim.

I have a specially designed drysuit for this very occasion, but I’d only tried it in Putney swimming pool and in the Serpentine for a photo shoot. Both times, my feet could touch the bottom; here the ocean is two miles deep and black as ink. Gulp. I suited up and edged in, shaking with fear… IT WORKS!! I bobbed across like a rubber duck and clambered out grinning like a loon. Not many people have done that, I thought to myself.”

Pee bottles, drysuits, MP3 players, sat phones and PDAs. What would Robert Peary think?



“These modern guys are such wimps. Now, that French chick, Dominick–there’s someone I’d be willing to share a sleeping bag with…”

JV Jumble II–Geronimo Busting Loose: Back in the Atlantic, Olivier De Kersauson and Geronimo are speeding south again, and finally got a daily run over 500 miles (523 miles yesterday). The big trimaran is still struggling to keep pace with Orange 2002, and is about 150 miles behind the record pace. Geronimo has been fighting her way through an uncooperative South Atlantic High, but weather forecasts indicate a strong depression about to pass to the south, which could give Geronimo her express ticket to the Roaring Forties and a chance to make up ground. This is the point at which Cheyenne finally passed Orange 2002. Maybe De Kersauson is about to do the same thing….



“No matter how tightly I close my eyes it’s just not the same as dancing with my wife…Damn.”