It's time to move on...

I'm leaving Team Delta Lloyd. This interview with Volvo gives a pretty good summary of what happened: Click Here

But don't worry, the blog will continue. As always, if you have topics that you want me to cover let me know: blog@gregorysports.com

-Matt out

Finally in Singapore

We made it. Here is an interview that was recorded as I stepped off of the boat and onto the dock. It pretty much says it all : Click here

To all of my friends and family, I miss you all very much and wish I could be with you over Christmas and New Year...

Matt out

Still Sailing

We are still sailing, which means that we are still in the race. We are almost 200 miles behind the leaders but still pressing on to the finish of Leg 3 under sail.

We are badly broken but not out. Hopefully we can make Singapore under sail, and that would be a victory in itself. One great thing about the Volvo 70 is that even with the throttle set at idle, we can still make 9 or 10 knots, given a decent wind. Not too bad.

But a new problem popped up today. We can’t keep hydraulic fluid in the one remaining cylinder that is holding the keel in the center cant position. This means that the keel slowly creeps to the leeward side. Hydraulic oil is running out of the cylinder and into the bilge. It’s a huge mess. We’ve used all of our spare oil. Now we are collecting the oil/water slurry that ends up in the bilge. We pour it into buckets, let it settle, skim off the oil from the water and pour the oil back into the hydraulic pump.

Yup, this is a long leg. Knowing that we all have a week long vacation when we get to Singapore only makes us more anxious to put this leg behind.

In the mean time, we’ll keep sailing.

Up Side of Down

Not so bad, this being broken.

After the initial shock and disappointment of the BIG BANG, it became apparent that we would be able to make the Malacca Strait and sail the boat to Singapore, even with a separated bulkhead and a crippled keel ram.

As ugly goes, this was fantastic news.

Then it dawned on me that my workload as navigator was dramatically reduced. Basic route planning, weather analysis, piece of cake. The logical next goal was a good night's sleep. I got up from my desk, brushed my teeth, washed my face with fresh water and dragged our big masthead spinnaker into a nice corner of the boat. I fell asleep with the thought that I wasn’t going to get up until the sun came up. A couple dreams later, I decided to move into an open bunk on the leeward side. Yes, the strange, unexplored leeward side of the boat. I pressed on in my mission to sleep until dawn.

Later, back to the sail bag.

Later, back to the bean bag.

When I woke up for real the sun was shining down the companionway hatch. Mission complete. Man, I have felt amazing all day today.

Photo by Sander Plujim/Team Delta Lloyd/Volvo Ocean Race

I drove for couple hours, casually confirmed that we were still heading east, radioed a passing tanker in my best trucker accent, and spent time joking with my mates. That's the great Ryan "Housty" Houston above, left.

This is working. I just might sleep two nights in a row.

Out, until the sun comes up.

HQ, We Have a Problem

I was lying in a bunk catching up on sleep. Dreaming about something, I don't remember what.

I woke to the sound of a deafening explosion. There is just no other way to describe it.

BAM

(!)

Something major. Broken. I sprang up. I waited for the rig to hit the water. I heard nothing. The sails weren’t even flapping.

Screams from the crew


It’s something in the boat.”

“Check the chain plates!’

“Are the bulkheads ok?”

“Did we de-laminate?”

“We are taking the headsail down. Can we have another body on deck?”

“Get the tool box. I need the Allen keys. We need to open the keel box to see the rams”

“Holy shit. This is it! It’s bad!”

“Emergency water pumps ready.”

Grab bags and survival suits were pulled out of the locker in case.

Photo by Sander Plujim/Team Delta Lloyd/Volvo Ocean Race

I got on the sat phone. The first call was to the Volvo Race HQ. “This is Matt Gregory. We have a problem. We’ve had a massive failure to the port side bulkhead that attaches the keel canting hydraulic ram to the boat. We aren’t sure of the situation yet. Can you put everyone on standby? We might need help from the Russians; they are the closest boat to us. Are you receiving our position through the telemetry?”

After some tense moments we were able to assess our prospects. The hull was intact. Water was not coming into the boat, and the starboard side ram was holding the load of the keel. We had a stable situation, were not in immediate danger, and now needed to figure out what to do next, not to create a dangerous situation.

We called Juan K, our boat’s designer. He helped us determine that the damage was contained to the port side keel ram structures. The starboard side structures and ram would be strong enough to allow us to go upwind and into the waves - east towards the Malacca Straights and then towards Singapore. The closest land, which happens to be the scoring gate, is 400 miles away. We don’t have enough diesel fuel to motor the entire way, so being able to sail in some capacity is important. Also, because the boat heels, sailing helps reduce the pounding loads on the boat moving upwind and into the waves. With the keel uncanted and in the center position, we are able to gingerly sail upwind. This is good news.

Right now, we are making headway in 15 knots of wind, sailing with a reef in the main and a J4 headsail.

(It's a tiny staysail like headsail.)

We are coordinating with our shore team and Volvo Race HQ to manage the logistics of getting the boat to Singapore. This might involve sailing to Indonesia, taking on fuel, and then motoring the rest of the way. But these are details. For now, we are all happy to be safe and for our boat to be in one piece

Well, sort of one piece.

I've adjusted my Christmas wish list.

Two Sides of One Coin

Yesterday was one of those days.

We were approaching the turning mark at the 'pirate
exclusion zone' and nicely sailing in about 12 knots of
wind. We needed to simply round a virtual coordinate, freeing us to sail east across the Bay of Bengal. I was exhausted and I was
looking forward to a nap after the rounding.

Then, about 8 miles short, the wind started to die.

By the time the wind got down to 4 knots we were not able to keep up with the current that was flowing against us at 2.5 knots. For 8 hours we struggled to make progress south. Meanwhile, the rest of the fleet made the turn and sailed away in moderate winds, perpendicular to the current.

For us it was like walking up a down-escalator and finding out that iPhones are being given away for free on the third floor of the mall. You can see the stampede of people running towards the Apple store, but you are trapped running as fast as you can, arms pumping wildly, going nowhere, unable to keep up with an endless Stairmaster throwing stair after stair after stair at you.

Finally the wind gods stopped their torturous joke. We got around the mark, but the fleet gained 35 miles on us in their shopping bonanza. Pissed off, exhausted and frustrated I climbed into a bunk for a nap.

A couple hours later the sun set and we were gently sailing along in 8 knots of wind. To find a way to put my self in a better mood, I took an iPod, a water bottle and a freeze dry Chicken Korma up to the foredeck. It was a perfectly clear and dark night. I ate dinner and then reclined on our A4 spinnaker, which makes a perfect bean bag chair. Dressed simply in a pair of board shorts, on a comfortably warm Indian Ocean night, I lay looking up at the mast, sails and an uncountable number of crisp bright stars. The darkness was, every so often, interrupted by a flash of lightning from a thunderstorm that was passing us by far off on the horizon. With "The Cars - Magic" playing in my headphones, I decided that life was not so bad after all. I watched a nearly full moon rise from the east and decided it was time to go back to work.

We've made gains over the past 16 hours and we are clawing our way back into this race.

Matt out

Yo-Yo Parade

The weather brief from our meteorologist, Fritz Koek, has been spot on so far. Simply put, the short sprint from the start, down to the virtual marks that Volvo laid to the south of Sri Lanka, would be full of geographically placed 'bands of wind' and 'bands of little wind'. From the start:

-
A band of westerly sea breeze
-
No wind
-
A band of land breeze from the east
-
No wind
-
A band of 20 knots from the east, funneling between India and Sri Lanka
-
Little wind on the lee side of Sri Lanka as we round the first turning mark
-

And that's where we are as I write. The strategic implications of this brief?

In theory: After the first park up, in no wind, the first boats to work east and south into the land breeze would jump ahead of the fleet. Winning the first six hours would be key in this Yo-Yo race.

In fact: During the first park-up, the entire fleet was separated by only one or two miles. But two miles was all the leaders needed to then leap ahead 30 miles; they got the land breeze first and sailed away.

Yo

Time for the boats in the back to play catch up as the leaders sailed into the next parking lot. We were all separated by only a handful of miles yet again.

Yo

The leaders got south into the strong funneling wind from the east and zoomed away.

Yo

Still blast reaching at 20 knots the trailing boats caught back up to the leaders.

Yo

How many more 'Yo's' are left in this leg?

Stay tuned.

Yo