AZ(AB) 91 - We still had 306 miles to sail

That night as the sun set on us we still had 306 miles to sail, after 12 days and nights at sea. During the night, as forecast on the weather fax, the wind increased to a Northerly 4/5 giving us between 5 and 6 Knots through the water and we spent the day creaming along under our spinnaker. At 1700 the main 20 gallon water tank finally ran dry and we were on to our reserve of Highland Spring bottles (4 gallons) for drinking, leaving the remaining Whisky for medicinal purposes and teeth cleaning!. As we entered the 13th day of our voyage we only had 186 miles to sail, and as the excitement increased of an uninterrupted nights sleep and the thought of seeing my wife, the wind did the reverse and dropped to a Northerly Force 2, giving us the prospect of an agonisingly slow spinnaker drift into Ponta Delgada where the barometer was reported to be 1026 giving us virtually no wind gradient. With the lack of fresh water, the rising sea and air temperature and the thought of meeting other sweet smelling land based humans, I decided to have a swim from the stern and it proved very difficult at 3 knots to wash with one hand whilst holding onto the rope and trying not to drop the soap to the bottom of a very deep  "bath". That night we saw navigation lights on our Port side and at midnight made contact with Villager, a Rival 32. They had suffered damage to their aerial when they were knocked down in the storm and had also written off their electronic Astral computer and so were very glad to have an accurate fix. With just 100 miles to go, we had a race on our hands and as dawn broke we were neck and neck. Out of the morning mist appeared the 3623 feet high volcano on Sao Miguel , it was a tremendous sight, stark yet inviting. The VHF station whose aerial was sited on summit was coming in loud and quite clear, but we were still too far away to be received, however our attempts were heard by my friend Trevor Leek on Corkscrew, who came in to say that he was just 10 miles ahead. It was good to talk to him as we had been concerned for his safety after the Storm and we spent some time swapping tales and experiences. The wind was now barely a zephyr and we spent the rest of the day chasing "catspaws" on the water as we slowly approached the finishing line. As time was moving on and we weren't, I tried to raise the Coastal VHF station and after several attempts I was able to speak to Peter Kelleher lying in the relative luxury of his bed in Croydon. The reason for disturbing him was to ask him to bring out a replacement Autohelm when he flew out to crew on the return leg. Having contacted Peter, I felt that the return journey would be more restful, but at that moment the calm sea was disturbed by a noise like Compressor Station venting or a Southern region train releasing its compressed air, and a large Whale surfaced along side. I was completely taken by surprise and disgusted by the fishy smell, and as quickly as it had surfaced the whale slid back down to the inky depths leaving little more than a nasty odour and some waves. The colourful spinnaker of John Passmore in Largo , a larger Rival had appeared on the horizon, giving us more reason to trim our sails in the sweltering heat and frustratingly little wind as the four of us fought for line honours. We finally crossed the line at 1400 hours on Saturday the 15th and were welcomed by my wife  and the fantastic Portuguese hospitality.

The only thing to mar our elation was the news that Minitech had lost her keel and sunk. The crew had been adrift in a Tinker Tramp for 6 days before a chance sighting by a Nimrod and finally being rescued by a ship.