I thought Arnhem Land was remote, but this place is something else. Physically grand and forbidding, St Helena carries its history on its sleeve. Jamestown turns out to be an English-style village sitting in a narrow green valley dwarfed by the barren, almost vertical cliffs each side. Someone forgot to wind the clock here – no ATMs, no use of credit cards, virtually no mobile coverage. The ‘Saints’ as the locals call themselves, are a motely lot, blissfully ignorant, it seems, that the world went digital. About 20 years ago.
No matter, they get by. We arrived with our unbearably abused spinnaker to the local seamstress, in her tiny work room. ‘Sure, I do sail repairs!’. But how? The sail threatens to bury her, her machine and the room itself. Two full days later of painstaking work, she and her husband emerge from under a pile of burnt orange with big smiles. 250 St Helena pounds. Not pretty, but it will get us to Brazil!
RELAPSE
So what did you expect? It all went pear-shaped when we visited the local distillery. The man’s name is Paul and he either deserves a medal or a punch in the nose. A true eccentric brit who married a saint, Paul went off to Germany and bought himself a big shiny thingy which now sits, I kid you not, in his garage, from which he makes everything from gin to rum to scotch, and a coffee liqueur which kicks like a mule. It must be rocket fuel, because it put the Mad back into Mad Mike. When the rest of the fleet finally arrived, we all shared a pig roast, and the Ressie-after party was, well, epic; debilitating. We threw ourselves off the wagon. Crap.
St Helena Transport
Blame this shiny thingy….
RESSIE REHAB V2.0
There’s really no choice. Back to sea. Mocktails and workouts. The weather is glorious, the winds fair but light, the repaired spinnaker a godsend. We sail with it for 5 days straight, then, as the alchoholic fog finally clears, have a brainwave – why not avoid Salvador, and head straight for Cabadelo? So we turn right, to the surprise of many of the other boats. But the logic is so compelling – avoid a really slow, boat breaking and uncomfortable sail to Salvador and instead reach in stronger winds; avoid then a 450nm upwind and against-current sail from Salvador to Cabadelo; save a marriage… (we’re talking Cupcake, who would otherwise be the upwind crew).
The sail thereafter was glorious. We nursed our way back to health with fabulous food, exhausting workouts, and a total facebook detox. Days melded into each other; our conversations meandered without need for closure; time floated by. The last few days raced past and then suddenly, there was Cabadelo on the horizon.
RELAPSE, V2.0
It turns out our cunning plan got us into port a full week ahead of virtually every other boat. Speaking of planning, the boys had wine and beer cooling in the fridge for the last two days of the trip ‘just to be sure’. Talk about setting intentions….
Cabadelo is a laid back place. We’ve managed to survive two nights without a boatshed moment, but that is only because the boys are still ‘surveying’, whatever that means. They’ve now headed off to Salvador, to ‘see what we can see’. Right then. Next stop for me is New York for some work – talk about from the sublime to the ridiculous – and then meeting Cup in Salvador for Carnivale!
The latest video is finished but Brazil apparently has slower internet than Ghana. Can’t upload a wet blanket, let alone a blockbuster production. Stay tuned….
