we were in the classroom. I didn't realise there was so much to learning how to competently sail a yacht. We were shown how to tie knots and read the different points of a compass. We learned the names of the different parts of the yacht, from the obvious to the "I wouldn't have called it that". Take a windlass for example...where do you think it goes? Actually, it's used to winch up the anchor. And speaking of anchors, how many different types are there? I'll leave it to you to go and find out...there's a few.
We learned the phonetic alphabet from Alpha to Zulu, and even did a course in radio etiquette.
We sailed in any conditions, relishing in the warm, sunny days, to suffering in the rainy and windy days. The training was designed to give us experience in any and all conditions.
To give us the experience of long distance and night sailing, we did a couple of longer trips straight out to sea and back. This also gave us the practice we needed to read, and stick to, our compasses. No such luxury as GPS for us (though I believe the skippers had one, just in case). On a night trip, we spent our watches glaring into the dark ahead, hoping that there was nothing ahead except open water. Now and then we'd see lights of some distant ship, either longhaul fishing trawlers or merchantmen, heading toward or away from Durban. Now we knew what they were experiencing on their respective ships, though we probably had it worse due to their size and the ability of the larger ships to handle rough seas.
Every swell that rolled under us made the hull pitch and roll, and in heavy seas trying to get some sleep in the forecastle was a nightmare. Each swell would cause the hull to thud into the trough, causing masses of water to swish its way down to the stern where the phosphorescence would shine like reflected stars. Seeing the glow was amazing on a calm night...but there's more of that in the Zanzibar journal coming soon.
To give us the experience of long distance and night sailing, we did a couple of longer trips straight out to sea and back. This also gave us the practice we needed to read, and stick to, our compasses. No such luxury as GPS for us (though I believe the skippers had one, just in case). On a night trip, we spent our watches glaring into the dark ahead, hoping that there was nothing ahead except open water. Now and then we'd see lights of some distant ship, either longhaul fishing trawlers or merchantmen, heading toward or away from Durban. Now we knew what they were experiencing on their respective ships, though we probably had it worse due to their size and the ability of the larger ships to handle rough seas.
Every swell that rolled under us made the hull pitch and roll, and in heavy seas trying to get some sleep in the forecastle was a nightmare. Each swell would cause the hull to thud into the trough, causing masses of water to swish its way down to the stern where the phosphorescence would shine like reflected stars. Seeing the glow was amazing on a calm night...but there's more of that in the Zanzibar journal coming soon.
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