One Girl One Dream

by Dekker, Laura

  Henk left on Sogno d’Oro a week ago, and slowly more and more yachts are leaving Fannie Bay. A strong whirlwind passes Guppy, and the rainy season is almost on our doorstep, but for the moment it’s still hot and dry. Dad and I decide that Guppy needs to come out of the water after all. There are two tall, rusty poles standing upright on the beach, which is dry at low tide. We inspect the poles and decide that it should be possible.

  The alarm goes off in my ear; it’s 04.00 and cold. We heave up the anchor and I slowly manoeuvre Guppy between the anchored boats, closer and closer to the upright poles on the beach. Guppy doesn’t like it and wants to go back to deeper water. I tie her to the poles with a lot of fenders to protect her. The water drops, and half an hour later she’s 10 centimetres from the sand, then 5 centimetres and . . . , then yes, she’s touching the ground. The water ebbs steadily and, securely tied against the two poles, Guppy shows more and more of her hull.

  The 7-metre tidal range means Guppy is dry in half an hour. Then the sun comes up and the work can begin. First we need to get rid of all the barnacles and other growth with a putty-knife, which is easier to do than we thought. Only then can I apply a coat of anti-fouling while Dad works on the rudder-shaft packing. After working for nine hours, it’s high tide again and we need to watch that Guppy doesn’t crash into the poles in the wind and swell. We have a quick meal before the tide starts to ebb again and we can apply the second coat of anti-fouling. It’s midnight by the time we crawl into our beds, tired but satisfied. I miss the familiar sound of water lapping against Guppy and her gently swaying me to sleep. She is standing high and dry on the beach next to my dinghy with the water at least 200 metres away. I’m feeling like a fish out of water! By 05.00 Gup is happy and floating again and we anchor her amongst the other yachts. It’s the first time in a year that Guppy has been out of the water and it was really necessary. But I’m glad it’s behind us now, as I get a bit nervous when Guppy is on dry land. We’ve been able to save a thousand dollars which we badly need for the rest of the refit. And so the days fly past.

  I give a presentation for the local kids at the yacht club and follow it up with one for the Carbon Club. Then there’s a big surprise for me: the chairman hands me a cheque to give to the sailmaker for the repairs to Guppy’s sails. The Carbon Club has sponsored the entire bill!

  Today I’ve been invited to join the Dutch Solar Car Team, which is going to run the well-known 3000-kilometre race from Darwin to Adelaide. It’s a nice change from working on Guppy. The car is made entirely of carbon fibre and is even lighter than I expected. There are an amazing number of factors at work to make the vehicle go as fast as possible, which is really interesting. Guppy’s electrical system also runs on solar energy, but the car is something else. It’s pure high-tech, and both Dad and I are impressed. They, in turn, seem to be as interested in my voyage as I am in their vehicle. They ask many questions. I get to know a lot about solar car racing, and they get to know all about sailing around the world.

  It’s 20 September — my birthday! Jillian surprises me with fresh doughnuts in the morning and we decorate Guppy with balloons. I celebrate my sixteenth birthday with Dad, Jillian and a few local friends at the yacht club. Suddenly a big cake with Happy Birthday Laura iced on it appears. It’s not every day that I’m given such a delicious cake, and I now have a good excuse to help myself to a big slice. This is my second birthday on my voyage. Having left Gibraltar when I was 14, I celebrated my fifteenth birthday in the Canary Islands and now find myself on the other side of the world on my sixteenth birthday. In the evening, we eat at the fancy restaurant in the harbour and light sparklers on the beach.

  Jillian is flying back tonight and I say farewell to her at the yacht club. I have one more day left with Dad, and we talk about my trip to South Africa, which I want to complete non-stop. Dad asks why I don’t want to stop at the islands along the way. It’s difficult to say why; I just love it when it’s just Guppy, water and me sailing towards infinity. The excitement of the big, new challenge of sailing 6000 nautical miles non-stop. The next day we say goodbye to each other.

  ‘Be careful and look after yourself,’ Dad says as his taxi pulls away. After Dad has left, I see David returning with his windsurfer and ask him if I can try it out, but the sail is too big for me in this strong wind . . .

  I’m sitting on the beach with my laptop on my lap, the sun has just dipped below the horizon and the last bit of daylight is draining away. The darkness of my last night in Darwin is creeping in and the waves are lapping on the beach. I’m feeling good; I’m intensely happy. Everything is fixed and Guppy is ready. We are going to do it; we can do it! I hear the bustle from the yacht club, there’s music coming from somewhere and there’s the noise from the dinghies and laughter. The sea is whispering and Guppy is swaying gently at anchor in the distance . . . Why should I leave? Why do I constantly have to go? Because the sea is calling. I want to find out what’s beyond the horizon and I want to know if I can do it. I’ll follow the ocean until she brings me to the place where I will find my future . . . New Zealand? Australia?

  In the morning, I’m at Customs in town with my ship’s papers, filling in more forms. Planned departure date? Hmm, tomorrow. Planned arrival date? No idea; honestly. Next to me someone else is clearing outwards on his way to Indonesia. It’s going to be his first major trip, he tells me proudly. And how long have I been sailing? Oh, for more than a year now. All the way from Holland? Well, yes . . . Then there’s silence . . . until he asks me how old I am. Fifteen, I tell him proudly, and then correct myself quickly. No, sixteen! I still have to get used to it.

  When I get back, I check Guppy again and again. The water and diesel tanks are full, and Gup and I are totally ready. Just one more night and I will be leaving Darwin behind me. My time here has flown. I’ve met a lot of friendly people and am amazed at the fact that the schools here have sailing on their educational curricula. I’m going to miss everyone and everything here, but that’s all part of sailing around the world. Ahead of me there are many, many miles at sea to lure me on to new adventures.

  Darwin–South Africa: 6000 nautical miles

  DAY 1: 26 September

  After a good night’s rest, I’m watching how Darwin slowly disappears in Guppy’s wake in the early-morning light. I sail through the shipping lane towards the open sea while the sun rises and it slowly starts to get really hot. There’s a container ship coming towards me and then another, but slowly it gets less busy. My mobile phone no longer has reception and I put it away for more than a month’s rest. It feels great, and I’m slowly getting used to life at sea again as peace returns on board Guppy. The wind could be coming from a more favourable direction, but at least there’s wind! Amazingly enough, I’m able to cope with a speed of 2 knots and a course that’s far from ideal. If I’ve learnt one thing, it’s not to be in a hurry to get anywhere. Guppy bobs about for half the night, taking us further from my charted course, but we’re also making some headway in the right direction.

  DAY 2: 27 September

  The wind lets me down, so I switch on the engine and point Guppy’s nose in the right direction for the first time since my departure from Darwin. The sails are loose and flapping from side to side and I take them down. Wait a minute, why doesn’t the genoa want to furl up? Oh no, the only thing I can think of is that the halyard has got snagged around the forestay! It’s pitch dark, and even with the use of a spotlight I’m unable to see what the problem is. Well, there won’t be any wind tonight, so it can wait until tomorrow.

  DAY 3: 28 September

  I’ve had a good night’s rest, because Guppy has been motoring calmly on her little engine because of the lack of wind and a strong swell. Early in the morning I’m standing on the foredeck; the sun is already burning hot without a breath of wind to cool me down. I peer up the mast and jiggle the halyard and genoa until everything falls back into place. I’m sitting in the shade enjoying the sunrise and see an enormous number of jellyfish float
by amongst the golden brown dust that covers large parts of the sea here, too. Just when I’ve cleaned Guppy’s entire hull! At this stage, I’m not too sure whether I’d rather carry on sailing or be sitting in Darwin with an ice-cold Coke . . .

  While I’m making breakfast I notice a rotting smell that gets stronger when I open the fridge. Oh no, not again! I’ve once again left something in the fridge which I switched off two days ago. I can’t have the fridge on at the same time as the navigation lights and instruments, as this uses too much current. The last time it was a cucumber, and this time it’s some slices of ham that are the villains.

  I’m trying to distract myself from the prospect of sailing 6000 miles without wind by finishing the book Fashionista and then starting on Déjà Vu. All of a sudden I feel . . . yes, WIND! The flag fluttered! And it’s coming from the right direction. Unbelievable! I set the sails and Guppy does over 3.5 knots. For the first time since leaving Darwin we are SAILING in the right direction! A hundred miles further on, there’s a labyrinth of reefs and oil rigs, but that’s for tomorrow, and I hope to finally leave most of the windless area behind me. I immediately feel a lot better. Let’s hope that the wind stays, because it’s certainly good for my mood. I play some music and start to write again, something I haven’t done for three weeks. My flute playing is improving, and it’s a lot easier on a moving boat than trying to play my beloved guitar. I try to play the tune from Silas, a German children’s series that I was crazy about as a child. Playing guitar is more fun, but my guitar has enough scratches from all the flying lessons it’s had on Guppy . . . In the afternoon, the wind slowly but surely lets me down again, while I retreat as far as possible into the cockpit to stay in the shade. Towards midnight, I start the little Yanmar that keeps me company for the rest of the night with its putt, putt, putt . . .

  DAY 4: 29 September

  Beep, beep, beep. I’m woken by the alarm for the umpteenth time. This time it’s not a ship, but an oil rig that slowly comes into sight on the horizon as it gets lighter. Guppy approaches it painfully slowly, and there isn’t a trace of wind. At night the stars are reflected in the water, which makes it look as though we are gliding through space. Clouds are now reflected in the light swell. The oil rig is disappearing behind Guppy when I feel some wind. It slowly strengthens to a light breeze and, at last, the sound of the engine makes way for the lapping waves that are being parted by Guppy’s bow. Sadly, the wind is not coming from entirely the right direction, but for the moment I’m happy that there’s any wind at all. I’m still not quite into my rhythm and am annoyed with the lack of wind, but I’m hoping to leave this area of calms when I leave Australia behind me. I want to get some real sailing done now!

  Sunset tells me that another day has passed. The clouds and stars are no longer reflected in the water, but the ripples are not really convincing. The wind has dropped to about 5 knots and the windpilot is not doing a thing. So I’ve switched on the electric autopilot. Well, there’s still some wind and Guppy is running at 2.5 knots for the moment. The diesel tank that feeds the Yanmar is already half empty, and that’s a bad start for a trip of almost 6000 miles. I really hope that I can continue sailing from now on.

  I finally manage to get hold of Henk on the SSB. The reception is very bad, but I’m able to gather that he’s about 1200 miles ahead of me.

  DAY 5: 30 September

  Guppy has continued to sail through the night, and almost in the right direction too. But the wind is dropping and there’s a very irritating swell that manages to bring Guppy to a complete stop with every second wave. ARGH! So I switch on the engine and we putt-putt along slowly. Wind, please! Haven’t I waited long enough? It really annoys me that I’ve already used up so much of my diesel supply at the beginning of this trip; but if I don’t use the engine, the wind and current will take me right back to Darwin. I don’t have a choice; I must get out of these calms as quickly as possible.

  I’ve put the clock back an hour and the wind has freshened a bit. I’m still not able to follow the desired course, but the most important thing is to get Guppy sailing. Now the wind drops again and I think I’m going to go nuts; if I’m not nuts already. I’m drifting straight towards a reef, but it’s 40 miles away and it should take a while for Guppy to get there at this speed, so I needn’t worry too much. I’m sure the wind will either shift or drop before we get there.

  I spend most of the day reading and thinking about my voyage. The SSB radio chat starts in five minutes’ time; let’s see if I can reach a couple of boats. It’s always good to hear from other people, even if I don’t know them personally, and it will take a while before we have more to talk about than just the wind and our location. Every human contact is welcome at this stage. I manage to speak to three sailors, besides Henk, whom I chat to almost every day. They all mention the lack of wind and we share our frustrations.

  DAY 6: 1 October

  Yay, the wind continues to blow! Unfortunately from the wrong direction, but at least there’s wind. Guppy is running at 5.5 knots, but on a course that’s too northerly. I really can’t be too bothered at the moment; I’m just happy that there’s some wind. Guppy is sailing close to the wind and heeling at an angle of 45 degrees, so life on board is a little more difficult, but I can handle that. We are going well; Guppy is cleaving through the waves again and leaving a trail of foam behind her. All the weather reports forecast wind from the south, which gives me hope. In the meantime, the wind is still coming from the west and that is precisely the direction in which I want to go. I’m happy and, if only we could now go in the right direction as well, life would be perfect.

  In the morning I do some work on my book, but give up after an hour and just enjoy the fact that we’re sailing again. I bake some biscuits and offer one to Neptune in the hope of humouring him. The biscuits have turned out a treat; maybe the best I’ve baked so far. They are finger-licking good. Amazing, actually! I’ve sacrificed my last two eggs to bake them. Seeing that I forgot to buy eggs before leaving, and that these came from the refrigerators at the supermarket, I needed to use them up quickly. I was left with a choice of an egg for breakfast, pancakes or biscuits. It’s a toss-up between pancakes or biscuits, but I finally opt for biscuits. I’m not the greatest cook and Guppy’s pounding motion doesn’t help matters. While I’m sitting in the cockpit enjoying the waves and biscuits, a ship comes into sight. It’s an old wooden fishing vessel; it’s coming straight for me and not responding to the VHF calls. I eventually alter course around it and see no one on the bridge or deck. Two hours later, I come across a similar ship and there’s no lookout on this one either. A good thing that I’m more alert than they are! Or do they know that yachts will give way if you’re going full steam ahead in their direction?

  The wind still isn’t coming from the south, which should have been the case by now according to the GRIB files that I’ve got from the SSB. Sigh. We are still sailing close to the wind, on a course of 270 degrees. Alright for now, but I would be happier if I could sail on a broader reach and preferably on the correct course!

  DAY 7: 2 October

  It looks like Neptune is enjoying my biscuits! The wind continues to blow and Guppy is holding a course of 260 degrees and sailing close to the wind. I ease her to 270 degrees because she sails much better on this course. That’s good enough for now, and the wind should shift at some stage to take Guppy on a more southerly course. I’m cheerful and enjoying everything around me. There’s a long, heavy swell, but Guppy is too small to be affected. She just rolls over it like a rubber duck. Up she goes and down she goes. At the bottom of a trough the wind eases, but once back on the crest Guppy heels over again. In the meantime, a rumbling tummy wakes me from my daydreams: I’m beginning to get hungry and have an appetite for good food. And that’s good news as it means that I’ve finally found my rhythm. All it needed was some wind. I go below to make something to eat.

  Another 5000 miles to go and I suddenly wonder what will happen in those 5000 miles. What
will I experience? A lot of wind, storms, calms, and will I get bored? What will my arrival be like? All questions which only time will answer, and that’s a good thing. What would it be like if we could see into the future? There would be no more challenges and life would probably be pretty boring. There’s no such thing as a perfect life and never will be. You have to experience the bad moments to be able to appreciate the good ones; but I’m hoping that Guppy and I can look forward to a good crossing.

  In the afternoon, I eat some more of the delicious biscuits I baked yesterday. With some canned New Zealand butter they are a real delicacy. I’m standing with my back to the mainsail, which has been heaved in tight, and gazing out to sea while Guppy sails close to the wind and ploughs through the waves. She is sailing at more than 6 knots. We’re still 20 degrees off our correct course, but that doesn’t matter. The sun drops below the horizon like a big red ball while I enjoy watching the waves.

  I’ve switched off the tracker because there’s a lot of piracy on the Indian Ocean and this website is easy to hack. I’d rather not let the whole world know where I am at the moment. I text my location to Dad twice a day and that’s enough.

  I’ve seen nothing since the two rickety fishing vessels I saw yesterday. Not even any flying fish, dolphins or other sea life. Just a few birds that are gliding around Guppy; but I’m not really fond of birds. They are certainly pretty to look at, but, however good they look gliding through the air, climbing over the crest of a wave and playing with the sea, they always manage to shit all over the boat. They also have a mean look in their eyes.