Wednesday, May 2, 2018
And then there was a huge hard BANG ...............
 
One of the fall lines has been broken, in an inexplicable way for us.

What preceded:
At our departure from Banjul we are accompanied by a very enthusiastic group of dolphins. They are very large specimen and I try to make some pictures of them, but that is disappointing.

We were already prepared that we would have to sail a lot on the engine and put the mainsail for the stability and sail largely out of the coast to avoid the fishing boats with their nets. The German boat we are soon lost out of sight, they sail much closer to the coast than we do. There is a lot of wind, gusts up to more than 25 knots and the waves vary between 1 ½ and 2 meters. I do not feel too good at these waves and stay mostly outside, because that's where I feel the best. At one point we see a large wooden Piroque sailing with a number of waving people on it. We wave back enthusiastically, but then they keep waving and use their own garments to attract our attention. Are they in distress? What is going on? Then suddenly I see a very long string of floating balls looming between the waves and immediately throw the rudder and can just avoid it. The fishermen had just dropped a 100 meters long net, which is hardly visible in this swell. Shit. That was close! Sigh .............
We are sailing a bit further from the coast to prevent any other nets. We decide to set up the Genoa, but during the out roll of the Genoa it appears that this is very difficult, or actually not. There is a lot of tension on the lines, this does not feel right. What is going on? The Genoa can only be rolled out for a part, and then there is the BANG and we find that the snapped Halyard has been turned over at the top of the roll sail (Genoa). At this moment it is not yet clear what caused the Genoa not to be rolled out further. We cannot do much about it, with this swell. But fortunately, partly due to this swell, the line is released and we can overtake that piece. Then we see, to our dismay, that the Halyard of the Genoa has also been snapped. It is not with us and after some cursing from our side we can see that it is fortunate that the Genoa is not completely unrolled, so the sail is hanging and we can still use it for the time being. In this way we sail with a smaller Genoa in the coming period.
We sail more Westward than North, so we do not get along much. But according to the weather forecast the wind will start to turn slowly and then we can sail a better course and sail directly to Sal. We still have a lot of problems with the high waves with corresponding annoying swell. I start to feel worse and not much later I hang over the railing to throw out the little I've already eaten. Now I feel completely like a dish-cloth. No, this is not my most favourite trip, it turns out. Meanwhile, I have finished the night watch from Thursday to Friday and long for my bed.

My watch has just been taken over by Fred, I have just undressed, when I hear a very loud bang again, followed by Fred's cry that he needs immediate help. I slip on my vest, shoes and lifejacket. Time to put on a sailing suit is not there, I have to help Fred. The line to roll out the Genoa has been snapped, causing the sail to roll out in one go and immediately sink down. Before we can do something, our entire 60 m2 fore-sail is in the water. Fortunately, we can just tighten one of the Tweakers, so we can still have some grip on the sail. The stress factor is high. The boat dives into the meters-high waves and I start the engine to keep a slight hold on the controllability of the boat. With the engine on the autopilot, I also line myself up and crawl forward where Fred is making fierce efforts to get the sail on board. After a number of attempts we have to conclude that this will not work. We are now getting tired and are soaking wet from the gigantic waves that comes over us. The sail has now partly disappeared under the boat. I crawl back to the cockpit and try to remove the sail under the boat with the help of the wind and the waves. We are lucky, this seems to work and after a lot of effort the sail is back on board! Fred goes back into the cockpit to steer and I go forward to secure the sail so that it cannot blow overboard. Slowly, because I am tired and soaking wet, but in the end, everything is fixed and I also crawl back into the cockpit. All in all, we have been working for a couple of hours. With great difficulty I get rid of my wet clothes as quickly as possible and dry myself off to put on dry clothes, because you do not want to get supercooled. What a bad luck we have on this trip, but fortunately no physical injury and the damage we can solve.

Fred suggests to return and sail to Dakar. This seems to us really the wisest thing to do at the moment. We can be there before dark and do the necessary repairs at the anchorage and then continue our journey to the Cape Verde islands. We are much too tired and then we run more risk and something can go wrong. At 19:00 we will anchor at the CVD. We do not get out of the bank much later. First eat, watch movie to relax and then into our bed. You can say that this was a very exciting trip and certainly not worth repeating!
 
At night I have to think of a statement on a tear-off calendar: "Sailing: a hobby where you get wet and sick while you go nowhere very slowly at enormous costs."