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Our brand new 2020 Bali 4.1 “Viewfinder” is on her way to her new home in blue Lagoon, St Vincent with the famous ARC race!

 

As we wish Jonathon Davis and his crew all the very best in this Trans Atlantic race from Las Palmas to the beautiful Caribbean waters, we share a little of their adventure along the way.

Meet the Crew!

Francis, Alex, Kelcie and Jonathon

Francis joins us from Montreal.  He’s the most enthusiastic of the bunch and brings joy to the trip.  Without his curiosity and tech savvy we’d be sunk and you’ld have to find something else to read.

Alex is a captain in his own right.  Joining us from Mallorca, he’s been onboard since day 1.  The differences in culture and cuisine have been invaluable to the trip and much of these influences stem from Alex.

Kelcie is our caretaker and amazing in every way.  In addition to holding a captains license and all of the delivery duties, she’s keeping ya’ll informed and feeding us better than anyone deserves.

There are too many food ics on the internet but not enough from the middle of The Atlantic…stay tuned.

Dave and Jonathon are friends of 30 years.  He’s spent more time on the water as a paraplegic than most captains ever will.  As Executive Director of Turning Point Gulf Coast Dave has helped countless others over the years and I would attribute his extreme contentment to that.

Jonathon’s sailed a lot of miles and learned a lot of things over the years.  Opinions vary, but most have one….

Day 1: The Start

The start. A mad rush to the start. With the impending race and the rush to find a drill to complete our final tasks… We are happy to admit we were only 5 minutes late to the start and we still found a drill and were ale to complete our outstanding tasks.

Early morning was met with processional check outs and emotional check ins. With a final boat rub down and clean up we had a fiasco we’re calling a rescue for emergency rescue, between a dock and a hard place. The cap covering for our emergency steering location was off to show off our newly fabricated and yet another completely mcgiver-ed success, our emergency tiller. During our crazed dash for a quick an complete clean up the cap was inadvertantly kicked off the boat. Continuing with the theme of crazed dashes, our much needed cap followed suit and promptly, no immediately sank 8 meters into a deep dark abysmal fecal and urine filled waterway that lie below our beloved vessel. With much shock and dismay and not least of which disappointment, Alex stood there realizing the fact of what was unfolding next. Not just a casual dip into the sea green with inky undertones water but a dive 8 meters down into a water wasteland.

Francis, an innocent bystander could not only see the overwhelming devastation of what had just occurred rose up to help his comrade in need. He immediately sprang into action, grabbed his mask snorkel and flippers changed into his swim trunks and dove in before the reality of what he was about to do sank in after our cap sank down. A few explicative provided a colorful commentary on water temperature, filthy salt water, and an impressive depth filed with treasure. After a few dives it was a raging success. As crew we cheered in unison celebrating this epic feat and victory before our Captain was any of the wiser.

Our drill had died so our captain borrowed one from a neighboring boat, “The second blue one”, he said when we asked where we needed to return it. We received this borrowed drill in hand and got immediately to work.

With about 30 percent finished, not even half an hour worth of work and BLAM….our the borrowed drill died. Cue our captain in yet another pursuit of another drill, this time not a borrowed one. He sought a drill of his own. On a Sunday in Las Palmas it’s almost a sure bet what you need to be open won’t be. Alas he never did find his own drill but with more creative thinking he quickly called his friend who was supposed to be in the arc but his trip was cancelled due to his captain taking a punch to the face knocking out two teeth.

So after that guy’s trip to the dentist and some ill will against the crew member who hit him the trip was called off. So luckily for us we now had access to a drill! With stars in his eyes, our captains that is we waited with building anticipation for a new borrowed drill. Some time passed and we cheered as he came down the dock hand delivering this drill. Our captain was more than quick to his feet and was like a mad man drilling holes everywhere he could think we would potentially need them since we no longer have a drill of our own.

Some backstory…. Our drill died after a drilling accident that had something to do with drilling holes in our beloved vessel at the waterline. You have probably guessed how it died… it met its maker….water. It got wet and died. With our captains crazed drilling session he was successful and we were able to continue our final tasks right up until the start and a little afterwards.

Spinning on our second rotation in route to our third and it is safe to say we are beyond a jibe. Onto our 4th rotation and all of the warm fuzzy feelings are gone. I am no seasoned sailor but this is strange. Rotating still with our spot tracker flashing gives off an ominous vibe and with distant yells from our captain… I don’t know what is happening.

Things are falling all around us and the rotations are still in constant supply. Another jibe. At this point I have lost track of rotations. The slamming on the boat is intense. David and I are in the main salon while the rest of the crew are up on deck. The motor has come down some and the rotations have subsided. Joe complete and another assumed success. Success is a loaded term and come to find out no success at all. Reason of which the captain came in arms up tossed off his life vest, tore off his jacket threw it down and exclaimed this is going to be a long three weeks. Christmas in Cape Verdes.

What is next is unknown, truth be known I am terrified to ask and for the time being I will remain out of the way and ready for instruction if such arises. Moments later…. “The spinnaker is being put in its bag…without being in it’s convenient sock. Not a good sign”, David mentions. Francis comes down looking a bit defeated and says “The spinnaker has been ripped to shreds. Its no longer in working order.” RIP WINGGAKER. A cup of coffee, a cigarette, and a complete surrender, the Captain exclaims, “Head us for the Cape Verdes”. A minor victory, the fishing pole survived the chaos, our captain looks up with a grin and a touch of sarcasm and says “Oh now there’s something for us to do.’