By Rodney Harris

Editor's Note: Rodney's story about his circumnavigation portrays startling details about some rather extreme events. The reader should understand that the conditions of a circumnavigation are incredibly more challenging than recreational sailing.

I began my sailing career with Offshore Sailing Schoolâs Learn to Sail course in April of 2000 at the Liberty Landing branch in New Jersey. After my first day of sailing, I became so totally engrossed that I absorbed myself with a lot of reading about sailing.  Of particular interest were single-handed voyages and races around the world. I went to Sydney, Australia for a period of about six months to work at the Sydney Olympic Games and further my sailing experience by doing some yacht deliveries.

When I returned to the United States in November of 2000, I enrolled in Offshore Bareboat Cruising Preparation at the Captiva Island facility in Florida. Upon completion of that course I went to the British Virgin Islands where I took the Coastal Passage Making course from Tortola in the BVI to St. Barts in the French West Indies. After returning to New York, I took the Coastal Navigation exam in Atlantic City in January of 2001.

THE DREAM

I would have to say that a book titled The Godforsaken Sea by Derek Lundy was what inspired me. It is a book about the Vendee Globe Race in 1996, a single-handed round-the-world race.  It is, by far, THE most challenging sailboat race because no stops or assistance are allowed.  The sailors leave the Bay of Biscay and sail south around Antarctica!  I simply had to experience the Southern Ocean for myself!

One day I was reading one of the local sailing magazines when I saw an advertisement seeking ordinary people who wanted to do something extraordinary by taking part in a race around the world. It was to be put on by Don and Margie McIntyre of Ocean Frontiers, an Australian based adventure company. They were advertising for crew positions on one of the one-design boats.  I decided that the experience involved would prepare me for one day going it solo.  Until then, I would be in the company and safety of a qualified skipper.

It turned out to be quite economical.  I did not have to buy a boat to do this, only make a crew contribution, which at the end of the day came close to $30,000.00. It was worth every penny to me and cheaper than buying a boat and preparing it for such a voyage! Besides, I had to live somewhere for six months, so instead of paying rent in New York, I could rent a bunk in the Southern Ocean, and have my meals included!

Much to my dismay, the race was cancelled for a variety of reasons. The good news is that there were six other people like me who shared this dream and had the enthusiasm to go ahead. So we convinced Don to build at least one boat -- It was a McIntyre 55, Graham Radford design -- that sent us around the world.

Not only did Don build us a boat, but he also managed to attract a sponsor, the National Investment Institute. They were generous enough to supply us with foul weather gear and some other personal gear for the voyage.

My circumnavigation officially began from the city of Hobart in Tasmania, Australia on November 3^rd 2001 and ended on April 25 2002 in Hobart.  The duration of the whole trip was an unbelievable six months!

Our yacht was named Arctos, after the bear constellation of stars in the Northern Hemisphere.  Our route was to be with the prevailing westerlies so we went the 'RIGHT WAY' around the world from west to east. We departed Hobart and crossed the Tasman Sea to Wellington, New Zealand. From there we went through the Cook Strait, dropped down into the Southern Ocean, and headed for Cape Horn. After rounding the Horn we turned the corner and went up the Beagle Canal to Ushuaia, Argentina. We left Ushuaia and crossed over to South Georgia, an Antarctic Oasis. From there we headed north to Punta Del Este and warmer climates in Uruguay. We departed Punta and continued north to cross the Equator, around St. Peter St. Paul rocks, then set a course for Cape Town, South Africa. From there we headed for the Kergulen Islands, a French Base in the Southern Ocean. The conditions did not allow us to land so we set a course for Hobart, Australia which was home and signalled the end of a long, hard but very exciting voyage.

One of the major highlights was to round the infamous Cape Horn in typical fashion· 60 knots of wind and 10 metre seas. After spending 31 long, cold and tiring days at sea, it is quite a sense of achievement to finally see the Horn, as many famous sailors and explorers who passed before us have done.

No words can describe surfing down Southern Ocean rollers, under bare poles doing 20 knots of boat speed at night. (More on that later.)  This truly is another world·The sunsets, sunrises, whale sightings, dolphin escorts, squalls, storms, the Doldrums and crossing the Equator are all highlights in their own right and shall be the source of memories and many stories to tell.

ISOLATION AND SELF-RELIANCE

The isolation became real to me when I realized just how far from land we would actually be at times. To think that a person could be on this planet and be further away from land than an astronaut orbiting the earth just blew me away.  At this point I realized there was no going back.  I just had to experience this water-world for myself!

Initially the idea of being so far from land seemed adventurous, but as we got closer to departure, my feelings were mixed with fear, anxiety and apprehension.  However, once we put a few miles under the hull, got to know the boat (and each other) a little better, the excitement and adventure returned. Unlike round the world racers who travel in a type of flotilla, we did not have the secure knowledge that somebody was watching and could reach us within a few hours or days at the most if we got into trouble. We were out there, totally isolated, 2,500 miles from land, heading for Cape Horn. (Actually the nearest land is only 4 miles away but that is under the keel!)

The whole idea of this ultimate seclusion actually helps you to sail the boat more wisely·more carefully·to pay attention to any new noises, and to check the rigging constantly.  This is not just sailing.  This is survival in an uncontrollable environment!

There were eight of us on Arctos all of whom shared these same conditions, but we were affected in eight different ways.  We all played a role in each other's experiences, which were the same, yet different.  So there we were.  Eight people on one boat, nothing more than a speck on the vast ocean, and unequivocally self-reliant.

One night on the Atlantic leg while en route to Cape Town, our steering cable broke. We were on a broad reach with one reef in the main, full genoa and a poled out #3 headsail, making about 10 knots of boat speed in about 20-25 knots of wind. Suddenly, there was no steering.  Just as we were about to do a crash gybe, I managed to bring the helm over. There must have been one strand of wire still intact which miraculously brought us around enough to avoid the gybe. My watch partner, Greg and the skipper dropped all sails immediately, which stopped the boat amidst a tangle of halyards, sheets and sails everywhere. We then set about making repairs while beam onto the 2 metre seas. Not an easy task in the dark when the boat is rolling and your hands are greasy from manipulating the steering cables.

Our engine gave us some problems in the beginning because we lost our starter motor.. As a result we had to rely on the wind generator to supply power. This is fine when you are at sea, but sailing a 55-ft boat into a slip or on to a mooring ball requires unbelievable concentration and team effort. 

Having spare parts and tools is crucial, as is your ability to complete repairs while at sea, in the harshest of elements. At those moments it becomes clear that ãI canât do itä is not a part of your vocabulary. If you ever want to return home, you just have to do it, whether it takes minutes, hours, or days.

ONE OF MY ÎBEST' DAYS ·WOULD YOU BELIEVE A KNOCKDOWN!?

December 10^th was our first Southern Ocean storm and a real beauty. It was very sunny but the wind was blowing up to 60 knots and the seas were huge, 10 ö 12 metres with bigger ones coming through occasionally. We got knocked down to a 90-degree angle four times during the course of the afternoon, the lower spreaders awash in the sea. Getting knocked down is an experience to remember, believe me. It happens very quickly, and to be honest, I prefer to be on deck when it happens. I had the pleasure of being on deck twice and down below twice. Everything down below becomes a flying projectile and you hope that the pressure cooker does not smash into the GPS, or your head. I remember watching this particular scene and it reminded me of being in a poltergeist movie or something. The air was full of pots, canned food, cups, clothes, pillows, sleeping bags, gear bags and anything else that was not secured.  It's amazing how this stuff comes out of nowhere, even after you think you've got things secured down below.

A knockdown on deck means one is immersed in icy cold water for a few seconds.    It is amazing how quiet it gets for that brief time. Some of the crew actually went overboard but thankfully their harnesses held firmly and they were able to scramble back on board.

After a knockdown, the boat kind of hangs there for a second or two and then she shakes her head and moves on. At one point during my watch I was sent forward to change the staysail to the storm jib. In calmer conditions this would take only several minutes at the most, but in storm conditions it took me about 30 minutes.

It wasn't so much the waves and wind, having to crawl on my stomach, or getting washed to the leeward rail at times, but the fact that my hands were frozen and I had no feeling in my fingers at all. I remember having to focus on my hands and tell my brain that my fingers were actually on the hanks and opening them, that I was attaching sheets to the clew and then making my way to the mast to raise the halyard.

The reality of having to take care of business to save your life leaves a lasting impression.  As strange as it sounds, this day was one my best days. I learned a lot about my limits that day. I also gained a first hand lesson in heavy weather tactics.   When you have to rely on your own expertise and intuition to get through, fear seems to slip away into something that resembles acceptance.

I was on watch with Jeremy when a storm hit between Cape Town and the Kerguelen Islands.  He was sitting on the starboard side and I was at the helm.  We were both wet and miserable. It was the dark of night and we had been making around 10-12 knots of speed with just a staysail up.  Dave, the skipper decided it was time to go to the storm jib. Jeremy dropped the staysail and was preparing the storm jib when Dave changed his mind and decided to run with bare poles. We had not done this before and I sensed that conditions were getting pretty bad.

Suddenly, Arctos jumped up like an express elevator. I looked down past the helm, past the cockpit, past the foredeck and past the bow into pitch-blackness. I remember saying one word before my heart filled my mouth and I stopped breathing.

I will let you use your imagination as to what the word was -- it only has four letters. We were riding down the face of this monster at what seemed to be about 20 knots and I prayed Arctos would not pitch-pole.  I worked feverishly trying to keep the bow as straight as I could.  Just as we began to level off, the spray worked its way back along the length of the boat, totally engulfing Jeremy and myself. We then caught up to the wave that we just rode and surfed down it again, this time at a comfortable 14 knots. You know you are alive when stuff like this happens.

The crew list is as follows:

Dave Pryce (Skipper / Navigator)
Murray Carey (First Mate / Victualling)
Tony Buttons (Rigging / Navigation)
Greg Cuddon (Safety / Sail Repair)
Melanie Robinson (Victualling / Customs)
Jeremy Pierce (Sponsorship / Media)
Rodney Harris (First Aid / Engineer / Water Maker)

Everyone above, except for Greg completed the whole circumnavigation. Greg left the boat in Cape Town for personal reasons.

Following is a list of people who joined the boat at various times for various legs and reasons:

John Totten (Hobart / Wellington / Ushuaia)
Brian Baker (Ushuaia to Punta Del Este)
Peter Torpey (Punta Del Este to Cape Town)
Ian Paton ( Sydney to Hobart / Cape Town to Hobart)
Ken Landy (Cape Town to Hobart)

It is quite an achievement that all these total strangers could get together, confine themselves in a small, wet and cold space for six months without drawing blood. There were a few moments and not all the personalities were ideally matched but to our credit there were no major fights. I will definitely stay in contact with at least some of my fellow shipmates and, personalities aside, I will always remember these people for what they achieved.

Dave, the skipper, was very experienced. The combination of his ability and the strength of the boat design left me feeling safe and in good hands throughout the voyage. I was comfortable with Daveâs decisions and it was only my ego getting in the way when I might have done something differently. Dave is a naval architect and veteran of five voyages from Australia to Antarctica, and the Melbourne to Osaka race. As for the rest of the crew, our experience levels varied. Some had experience in racing and some of us had experience in offshore deliveries.

MY FAVORITE STOP

South Georgia was a wonderful experience that I shall not forget. We navigated through icebergs and icy seas before seeing the island emerge from the mist that surrounds its great snowy peaks. This is a Sub-antarctic Island approximately 1100 nautical miles due east of Cape Horn. It belongs to the British and is home to about 20 employees of the British Antarctic Survey.  There are thousands of birds, seals, penguins and a few reindeer. The base is located at an old whaling station of Grytviken in King Edward Sound. What impressed me about making landfall here was that as we approached, and the outline on the horizon emerged, I had a sense that I was seeing land that nobody had ever set foot on before. Kind of like those first steps on the moon.

There are no indigenous tribes to South Georgia. To visit, you are required to have permission, obtain a permit and pay a fee. The people that live here are extremely friendly as they get a visit from maybe half a dozen or so cruising yachtsmen each season. The cruising here is amazing, as is the hiking and climbing.  Although the beaches are covered in whalebones, we unfortunately did not see any live whales. The seals and penguins are at a saturation level along the beaches, even to the point that you canât land your dinghy because of the wildlife.

The island has a history of whaling that once thrived here in the earlier part of the 20^th century until the 1960âs. The Norwegians ran the three main stations at Grytviken, Stromness and Husvik.  Each station was as eerie as the next, and although quite dilapidated, much was still intact so it seemed as though the people went to lunch one day and never returned. 

Watching some of the crew being threatened by angry fur seals on South Georgia was always a laugh, or having a pair of defensive Skuas attack us and force us to climb over a mountain instead of traversing it was an adventure, if not funny at the time of reflection.

South Georgia is also famous as the setting for one of the most daring and heroic rescues ever conducted. It is the story of Sir Ernest Shackleton and his ship, aptly named Endurance that was crushed in the pack ice.  He led his men across the Antarctic, only to take to the sea in three open boats to Elephant Island. He then set out with six others in the James Caird, a small open boat, to land on South Georgia, where he and two others traversed the island to seek rescue in Stromness. Ultimately, he was successful at rescuing all his men, without loss of life.

Sir Ernest died several years later on the island and as his body was being transported back to England, his wife decided he should be buried on South Georgia. His grave is maintained to this day, and on the anniversary of his death a small gathering of people pay respects to this great man.

It is also very hard to talk about South Georgia without mentioning Tim and Pauline Carr. They are an English couple that sailed into Grytviken several years ago and have invested so much of their time and love for this place, that they have restored some of the buildings and set up a museum, which is fantastic.  They are totally self-supporting through contributions to the museum, the little gift shop, and of the sale of their book about South Georgia. They will give you a warm welcome and can offer you some great tips on where to go to see some of the best sights at South Georgia.

FUN STUFF

One of my fondest memories includes crossing the equator and meeting King Neptune for the first time. This ritual is conducted by all mariners as they cross the equator.  Our ceremony was conducted in the intense heat of the tropics with a concoction of beans, rotten eggs, oysters, mustard, flour, powdered milk, and sardines.  This was mixed up in the morning and left to bake in the sun for a few hours before we read Crimes & Punishment to Neptune and administered our gourmet delight to his mermaid. After our pagan ritual was over we were able to take a long and cooling mid-ocean swim at the equator to pay proper homage to the King.

The Atlantic leg was fun because the weather was more amiable, which allowed us to spend more time on deck, even when one was off watch. So that led to some good conversations and joking around. Fooling around in the galley while preparing meals was also a fun time. In this type of environment, lifeâs simple pleasures were magnified.

Another memorable moment was when we were heading for Hobart and it was at the end of our last storm. It was a dark night, the seas were still up and visibility was poor. Jeremy and I were on watch and Murray and Ian were coming up to take over. Murray attached his harness as he came out the companionway and sat down in the cockpit. Ian was still in the companionway and I was on the helm. Murray turned to Jeremy and asked him if any big waves had come through on our watch. Right at that very moment a wave broke about three metres off the starboard beam. Because it was so dark, none of us saw it coming.  All we saw in an instant was this huge wall of white water as it slammed into the boat, knocking us over about 70 degrees. I looked at Murray and he was hanging onto one of the primary winches trying to stop himself from landing on the leeward rail. Jeremy and I were both drenched by the rogue wave.  As it rolled past and Arctos righted herself, Jeremy looked at Murray and answered his question with ãWell, there was that one.ä

WINDING DOWN

Trying to make landfall at Kerguelen proved to be impossible. As we got closer, the winds became chaotic and were howling down the fjords and straight onto us.  Again we were under bare-poles.  A gust that was over 60 knots hit us hard and the sea was white with spume. This is an amazing thing to see, as you canât really tell the sky from the sea.  When you try to speak, your words are squelched by the howling wind.  It blew so hard that Arctos just lay over on her side with the propeller spinning in air! Clearly, Arctos was not enjoying the ride, either.

It was at this point we decided to abandon the landing and head for home. I guess this was the worst day for me.  I was tired of being cold and wet all the time.  Everything down below was wet because of the condensation, and it was hard to cook in these conditions.  Most of all, I was deeply missing the sun not having seen it for a week.  The end of the trip was near.  Believe it or not, as hard as it was, I would have gone around again if I had the chance.

CONCLUSION

This voyage was the best thing to happen in my lifetime.  It has given me a real taste for the sea.  Despite some very extreme conditions, I look forward to returning.  My short-term goal is to obtain my captainâs license and work full time in the sailing industry. I am also very interested in becoming involved in short-handed and single-handed sailing with a long-term goal of 4-8 years to compete in the Around Alone Race, then perhaps the Vendee Globe.

I took Offshore Sailingâs Coastal Navigation course prior to my departure.  Although the course was at times rather difficult, it concentrated on traditional navigation techniques, as well as electronic navigation.  It was a relief to know that under such extremely challenging conditions, I was able to chart a course and not have to rely on electronics alone.

The basic seamanship that I learned in the very beginning really helped, and all those skills are just second nature now.  Had I not had a foundation in sail changing, sail trim, tying knots, helming, safety awareness, and overall confidence that I learned at Offshore Sailing School, my circumnavigation might not have happened at all!

Me with an iceberg on route to
  South Georgia

 Leaving Sydney at the beginning
  of our voyage

 A  typical storm in the
Southern Ocean

 At the equator after meeting
King Neptune

 Favorite stop: Whaling station at
  Grytviken on South Georgia - a
  Sub-Antarctic Island approx. 1100
  nautical miles due east of Cape Horn