ALMOST THE END OF THE DREAM!

I can't believe that it is the 21st July already. We have been so busy with final preparations to leave and there just didn't seem to be enough hours in each day to get everything done.

We decided that yesterday was D-day to leave. There was a good weather window for two and a half days, which would have allowed us to get to Durban before the westerly turned to another easterly. Keith spent the whole day fitting a new heat exchanger, which had been couriered overnight to replace the damaged original, to the Perkins engine, whilst the electricians worked on last minute installations and Stewart finished off the last of the trim on the galley cupboards. I spent the day stocking up on provisions and stowing them on board and Graham was fretting and trying to get everything finished. We were all falling over one another and tempers were frayed. We had promised Sue that we would take her and her family out in the afternoon to Scatter Arthur's ashes, before we left.

We had to postpone going out for an hour, but at last at 4.00 p.m, with Sue and family on board we finally
left the harbour in a light westerly breeze. It was a gorgeous afternoon and we were all happy. We put up the mainsail and all was well with the world. Sue, Gary and Illa scattered Arthur's ashes overboard and spent some quiet time in contemplation. We had a super sail and came back into harbour as the sun set. It was a very peaceful experience and Sue, Gary and Illa really enjoyed the time aboard. We tied up and had a few drinks and snacks before saying our farewells to everyone and getting down to a last minute tidy-up and final preparations. At midnight, we went to bed and set the alarm for 2.00 a.m, to get a good early start.

We left the harbour at 3.00, full of anticipation, and in my case a bit of trepidation. We were finally on our way. This was the start of our adventure. There was a light westerly blowing but there was a fair swell and the sea was very choppy. We were really rocking and rolling and decided to get the mainsail up as soon as possible. When we hoisted the sail, the topping lift got snagged up and the sail did not go up smoothly. We did a couple of circles to try and free the topping lift, which we eventually managed to do, and we managed to get the sail right up. We were off Gonubie at this point. We took a minute to catch our breaths and gather ourselves together before putting up the foresail.We looked back at East London with a full moon rising and it was a beautiful sight.

Then we heard a crack and Graham looked up and said." I don't believe it. Our mast has snapped". The mast had sheared off, two thirds of the way up. We realized that this was the end of our trip, and that there was nothing that we could do but get the sail down and head back to the harbour. This proved to be a near impossible task. The parells which attach the sail to the mast, had got hooked up on the torn end of the mast and wouldn't slide down. So what is usually a very simple exercise of lowering the sail, became extraordinarily difficult. Boundless was bucking and rolling and the broken end of the mast was slapping and banging on the base of the mast, threatening to do more damage. We had to immobilise it without getting injured or knocked off the boat. We tied everything up as well as we could with whichever sheets were available.

Poor Rosie was absolutely terrified. She kept trying to back off the boat. We had brought her into the cockpit and tied her by her harness and lead to a cleat. She had been frightened by the rocking and rolling and things falling about below and always feels more secure when she is with us. Finally after turning the boat around in circles several times, we managed to dislodge the parell and drop the sail. Thankfully we switched on the motor and motored back to the harbour. By the time we tied up again on the police jetty, it was 6.00 a.m and it was beginning to get light.

We were shattered. We had set out earlier with such excitement and anticipation, and here we were with a broken boat. Was this the end of our dream? We were both exhausted, but could not go to sleep and leave the hanging mast which was held only by the cables running up the centre of the mast, for the nav lights and instruments. If this cable snapped, the mast would fall down, causing more damage to the doghouse, solar panels, deck or anything else with which it connected. We began the painstaking task of taking all the
sheets off the sails and mast and Graham climbed up and laced the broken end of the mast to the good lower section, preventing it from swinging or falling down. I packed away life jackets and safety harnesses and everything which had fallen about. Eventually at about midday, we lay down and went to sleep, exhausted, desolate and very, very sad!

We woke up at about 5.00 p.m and Graham decided to go over to the yacht club to see if anyone had any helpful ideas or advice. I couldn't face anyone and just sat staring into space and drinking tea. When Graham got back, I made supper and we went to bed.

I can't believe it but I slept for about 12 hours. I think that the emotional devastation had really taken it's toll on me and my body was just totally depleted. We both woke up feeling much more positive and have spent the day cleaning, tidying and discussing the options of repairing or replacing the mast. We have heard of someone who does wonders with fibreglass and we will contact him tomorrow. Boundless has been subdued, but not defeated. The adventure will go on!