First crossing on a Leopard 44

We left Cape Town just over a week ago. What a pleasure to be on a Leopard
44. I have crossed oceans in the Leopard 38,39,40,43,46,48 and the
Leopard 58, and for some reason never did a 44. What a well balanced boat
she is, a unique character as all the Leopards are. I sailed one from Cape
Town to Durban in 2009. Really well appointed catamaran, excellent usage
of space and spacious living areas. We are having lots of fun taking her
through all types of conditions, or rather she taking us through it all,
safely and securely, building huge confidence in her abilities. And like
the other Leopards she is really easy to sail. One person can set the
sails without a spilling a drop of sweat, due to electric winches and well
placed winches, sheets and lines. There is a reason why the Leopards are
one of the top selling catamarans in the world, or rather, there are many.

Into slight headwinds and 3m swells we started, taking it gently and
getting our sealegs tested early on in the journey. The wind started
backing as predicted and soon the northwesterlies turned into westerlies
before she faded three days out. We got completely becalmed, the sea
turning into a huge shining mirror with not even a ripple on the surface.
The sun was out and we were out in our shorts and t-shirts, enjoying the
great weather. That night we ran into thick fog, with visibilty down to 10
meters max.

Eerie, scary situation, in a busy shipping lane and fishing boats
around. All we could do was give our position on the VHF every 15
minutes,, the direction which we were moving in and the speed we
maintained. A few ships altered course for us. First Mate Malcolm
contrived a radar reflector from heavy duty aluminium foil which he
mounted on the helming station. It was a deadly situation. No ways we
would have time to take avertive action should we see a ship coming
straight at us. Strange that such danger can lurk in such extreme calm and
serene conditions. We had our epirb ready in case we were taken out. We
reckoned that if we wear life jackets it will just take longer to die in
this cold grey water, it will just prolong our suffering, and hence we did
not wear them.

I have weathered some seriously scary storms out here, but none compares
to this sitting duck scenario. In a storm it is one on one, you are given
a change to fight for your life. Sailors of old did not learn to swim for
this very reason. In a stormy sea nobody can fight and win should you fall
overboard, and swimming will just prolong the inevitable. Nowadays though
there are personal epirbs, self inflating life jackets you can wear all
the time, and if the water is not too cold and you have a sharp crew on
board, the changes of finding a person that fell overboard, day or night,
is much better than years ago. Death we do not fear, but freezing to death
is not our idea of dying pleasantly out here. The fog moved in at about
8pm and only lifted at 10am the next morning. We did not speak much during
this period, as our thoughts were far away.

But we lived to tell the tale, and no sailing school or establishment or
book for that matter will tell you to use your VHF in such conditions. Or
how to stay calm, and how to keep your crew calm. Under any and all
conditions. Out here we deal with real situations, not theoretical
situations. I stand to be corrected on this, and will be pleasantly
surprised if I am proven wrong. No amount of theory can substitute
experience. There is always room for improvement though.

As the fog lifted the wind softly started building from the south. We
could now let out our headsail to assist the motor. The next day we
turned the motor off and at last we were doing what we love doing most,
sailing. we have now been sailing on the trot for four days, and our
weather prospects looks good for another few days. We expect to arrive at
St.Helena on Saturday the 10th of August. We will spend a day or two there
and then the long run to the Caribbean.

We are having regular visits from various species of dolphins which is
always a great blessing. Came up for watch one morning and on my steps a
seabird was sitting. my crew informed me that he flew in but they do not
want to disturb him, suspecting he may be injured. Creatures out here are
not scared of humans. I folded my hands around the bird's body and softly
placed him on the table outside. He spread his wings and the breeze from
behind lifted him, and off he went. Made a few circles around the boat and
dissapeared into the blue horizon. What an awesome blessing it was, leaving
one elated yet humble.

If you secretly think that sailing is an escape from reality, then you are
wrong. It depends ofcourse what you consider reality to be. In the most
universal sense of the word, we are not escaping reality at all, but
moving closer to it all the time. You think that what you see daily on tv
is reality and you are right. There is a much bigger reality though,
beyond life and death, and this is the reality we experience out here. An
eternal, infinite reality. Hope to share some glimpses of it.