This is an authorized translation in English of a post in French by Hive account@marc-allaria: RECIT - Stop#8 - LA LONGUE GALERE - Episode 2...!

^{As my primary language is not English, there are probably some mistakes in my translation.}

Remember that the person who speaks here is NOT me, Vincent Celier (Hive account@vcelier), but Marc Allaria (Hive account@marc-allaria), a French guy.

The long mishap - Part 2

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Crack...

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Navigate to dive. Diving to explore. The idea is simple. Its implementation is much less but makes me live in a mixture of nature, meetings, and solitude, which day after day, build me the best trip of my life. Yesterday all was well, I left Selayar, an Indonesian island somewhat forgotten in the south of Sulawesi, and headed for the Sabalana Islands in the Flores Sea. I leave behind great dives, endearing people and carries many underwater shots that I already prepare for my future releases. The wind was steady, the sea slightly crossed, the routine installed, and then ... CRACK ...! a noise that had no place on my sailboat brought me out of my dreams.

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I think at first to a collision with a tree trunk or with a marker of nets, so numerous in these waters. But no floating object appears in the wake of Aurora. I then climb on deck, attracted by the curious behavior of my sails. I lift my head and I am face to face with a nightmarish scene. The mast is twisted and shakes like a vulgar bamboo. I discovered a cap shroud walking in the air and a chain-plate torn from its usual location. The origin of the problem comes from the breakage of the starboard retaining pinhole hardware. The mast only followed the movement. No longer restrained, he bowed, carried away by the weight of the sails, all inflated.

In one second, everything collapses. No more dives, endless repairs in the future, made difficult by the isolation of the region, cost, a trip that may be ending here ... The dark thoughts are uncontrollably chained in my head. But I have to act quickly and think first about my safety. The mast can break. He would then pull everything from the deck and threaten to come up against the hull and create a waterway ... I put down the sails and put up a makeshift guying using my mainsail halyards. If this DIY job does not straighten the mast, it has the merit of preventing it from twisting more. This seems to hold, at least until my nearest anchorage, about fifteen miles away.

But now, there is a well-known law of seafarers called "The Law of Maximal Pain in the Ass". More politely presented, the earthlings say it by: "a problem never arrive alone ...". Looking at the horizon, I see the application of this law hurtling down on me. So soon as my repair is complete, a dark, tormented front falls on Aurora. The wind rises all at once beyond 40 knots. The sea becomes agitated, too much for the engine to accomplish the 15 small nautical miles separating me from the Sabalana Islands. Facing the waves, the wind, and the current, with its engine running, Aurora is retreating. I was thinking of a simple storm, but it is a depression. I have no choice but to take the train in the direction of the walk. So I turn my back to the wind and let the sailboat go in its direction. The cape gives me the island of Flores and the city of Labuan Bajo. I have no choice but to accept it. A hundred nautical miles separate Aurora from it. The wind and the waves on the sails, the pace is much more comfortable and Aurora now advances at 5 knots with a minimum engine speed. The disadvantage is that the sailboat is riding at an excessive rate, causing the mast to tilt in a worrying manner. At each wave I grit my teeth and wonder if the mast will break now or at the next wave ... The bad weather goes up again. The waves reach 3 metres, the sea foams under the gusts, the water trickles inside the cabin by the broken chain-plate, I go up regularly on the bridge to readjust my repair, I am very worried. For the first time since I left 3 years ago, I am preparing my emergency bag. My distress beacon, my portable GPS, my phone, water, food, a knife, waterproof bags, to tell the truth I do not know what to put inside. My cable cutters and hacksaw are also ready for use if the mast breaks. A quick glance made me understand that if the mast breaks, the sails, the bi-mini, the solar panels, the radio antennas, the GPS antenna and the radar would then be torn off and follow it with the water. . It would then need to quickly cut the rigging to make a clean place and abandon everything to the water before the whole comes to hit and damage the hull.

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The night is going at this infernal rhythm. I fall asleep from time to time, I have many nightmares, and wake up with a start by going to check if this story of crooked mast is not a bad dream. But no, all this is real. In the early morning the sea softens slowly, Labuan Bajo is in sight, the mast has resisted, I drop anchor, sit down, and look again at the mast that will now have to be repaired ...

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The long mishap - Part 2, by @marc-allaria (translated from French)

This is an authorized translation in English of a post in French by Hive account@marc-allaria: RECIT - Stop#8 - LA LONGUE GALERE - Episode 2...!

Remember that the person who speaks here is NOT me, Vincent Celier (Hive account@vcelier), but Marc Allaria (Hive account@marc-allaria), a French guy.

The long mishap - Part 2