N. Fa:  “At 35-37, we go with the waves, the boat nicely settles on top of raising backs of the waves and surfs with them for minutes. As wind reaches the 40 knots, Miss SoH goes wild and jumps after the wave and tumbles into it, wanting to stab it – sometimes succeeding”

Nandor Fa skipper Spirit of Hungary  17th February 03 20 UTC in the morning

The whole morning I’ve been holding the autopilot in hand, trying to keep the boat on the right wind-angle which is 145 – 150°. This is the angle, on which the boat is the most stable, doesn’t head up and doesn’t fall off to gybe. The wind strength is 35-45 knots with adequate wind, which isn’t friendly at all.

It is not a good idea to slow the boat because then on the one hand we wouldn’t progress, on the other hand this is much safer. If we are slow, we are much more vulnerable by the waves. They don’t care about the beauty of the boat, they beat it wherever they can. The only safe mode is running fast. In our case, this varies between 15 and 24 knots, with two reefs on the main, plus the stay jib. So I keep it in broad reaching as much as I can, but the waves want to rotate us very aggressively. The faster we are, the less we run into the waves in front of us. Even this way we do sometimes, which slows the boat, and the waves run across the deck, water flows everywhere. Meanwhile the boat shakes so aggressively that we always need to hold on to something, otherwise you just fly until something stops you.

I waited until it reached the 44 knots and then went out to do the third reef. Now it’s more stable and still fast, however not as fast as before. It’s not enough to just go fast, you need to get there in one piece. They forecasted even stronger winds for the night. Of course every time when you’re done with reefing, the wind calms – so it happened this time. I’m not going to provoke it, I’ll keep it like this for a while.

Back then, I was dreaming about having a boat that keeps direction, and which I can go fast with in the South. Now I can report: I have one, the Spirit of Hungary. And I’m being assured of this as we are sailing within big young aggressive waves. I have very good feelings, while conditions are becoming rather inhuman.

Although it’s very cold, I sat outside to have my meal. It’s a real experience to just sit and watch how the boat smoothly rips its way across two-story high waves. At 32 kts of wind the waves can still catch us. At 35-37, we go with the waves, the boat nicely settles on top of raising backs of the waves and surfs with them for minutes. As wind reaches the 40 knots, Miss SoH goes wild and jumps after the wave and tumbles into it, wanting to stab it – sometimes succeeding. Our TWA is still 145-150° and we do not turn more than 10 – 10°. Usually we have 35 – 42 knots of wind and we are able to keep going towards East in good pace.

At 06 50 UTC our position is 44° 59′ S, 109° 47′ E, and we are 230miles from Leeuwin.

Now it’s in the afternoon here, C got up, makes some lunch and takes the helm. I’m going to have a visit in my cold wet sleeping-bag… it’s a good place after 10 minutes.

Conrad Colman co-skipper Spirit of Hungary

Position 45 Degrees 06 South 111 Degrees 29 East (155 miles before we pass the longitude of Cape Leeuwin, the SW point of Australia)

So, another day, another Indian Ocean gale. Its par for the course in these parts and we’re loving the opportunity to make some good miles east. Unlike more normal yachts, there’s no need to batten down the hatches because this type of racing yacht is conceived with these conditions in mind. As such, we can easily change sails to have a safe amount of surface exposed to the houling gale and we are never in danger from the crashing waves.

So, another day, another Indian Ocean gale. Its par for the course in these parts and we’re loving the opportunity to make some good miles east. Unlike more normal yachts, there’s no need to batten down the hatches because this type of racing yacht is conceived with these conditions in mind. As such, we can easily change sails to have a safe amount of surface exposed to the houling gale and we are never in danger from the crashing waves.

It can be tricky to know how hard to push however. On the one hand, if we are over powered we’ll charge down the face of the 7 metre swells and the autopilot, doing its job admirably under the circumstances, will plough us into the back of the wave in front. This sends tonnes of water cascading over the boat and slows her suddenly, putting intense pressure on the rigging and mast. If we are too conservative however, it is hard to maintain enough speed, and thus steerage, to resist the waves pushing us from side to side. We are like a surfer who has to paddle hard to move ahead of the wave before benefitting from its push, we need to stay ahead of their curling tips lest the waves break on top of us!

At risk of repeating myself, I love it down here. Its an incredible sensation to surf down a rolling blue mountain of water, touching 25 knots of boat speed, while standing at ease in the entry. Having run up the back of the wave ahead, I can stare across a glittering valley, torn by our white foaming wake, as the next swell picks up and comes charging at us again. So we pass our days continually riding the best parts of the world’s raging rollercoasters as one stand watch and the other tries not to fall out of bed! Nandor and I are in fine form, as aside from a few frantic sail changes when the wind jumped from 28 to 40 knots, these are easy days. We escape the cold and wet by spending decent hours in bed and when it comes time to change we regale the other with stories of monster surfs and breaking waves captured on camera

Carnet de bord du 17 février

Position : 45° 06’ S et 111° 29’ E (à 115 milles du Cap Leeuwin)

Une nouvelle journée dans une dépression de l’Océan Indien. Ça fait partie du quotidien dans ces latitudes et nous apprécions cette opportunité de bien progresser vers l’Est. Contrairement aux bateaux plus classiques, pas besoin de se préparer au pire à bord puisque les IMOCA sont conçus pour ce type de conditions. Du coup on peut facilement changer de voile pour adapter la surface au vent et éviter le danger des vagues qui déferlent sur le pont en permanence.

Le plus difficile finalement c’est de doser notre puissance. Si nous avons trop de surface de voile nous allons, certes, filer à toute vitesse sur des pentes de 7 mètres mais le pilote-automatique, en faisant super bien son boulot, va nous emplafonner dans la vague suivante ! Là, le bateau va passer en mode « sous-marin » pendant quelques secondes, ralentir et dans ce cas la pression sur le mat et les gréements va être vraiment très forte, trop. Mais si on n’a pas assez de toile dehors ce n’est pas mieux puisque nous n’avons pas assez de vitesse pour garder notre cap au milieu des énormes vagues qui arrivent de tous les côtés alors on doit ajuster. On est un peu comme un surfeur qui doit ramer fort pour pouvoir se trouver pile au bon endroit, juste au sommet de la vague, pour ne pas se faire engloutir !

Mais au risque de me répéter : j’adore ce coin de la planète ! Je ne me lasse pas des sensations à la barre quand on dévale ces « montagnes » d’un bleu profond à 25 nœuds. La vue quand on arrive au sommet d’une vague au milieu de l’écume créée par notre propre trace et juste avant la formation de la vague suivante, c’est magique. La photo vous donnera une petite idée… On passe nos journées sur les meilleures montagnes russes du monde avec l’un de nous 2 en veille et l’autre qui essaye de ne pas tomber de son lit. Nandor et moi sommes en pleine forme malgré quelques changements de voile un peu sportifs quand le vent passe de 28 à 40 nœuds en 5 minutes !! On se réchauffe comme on peut dans nos sacs de couchage tout en racontant à l’autre des histoires de surfs monstrueux que l’on essaye tant bien que mal de capturer avec nos appareils photo !