Day 79 – Closing the circle
As in the famous Russian song “Closing the Circle”, the “AKROS” and I are closing a circle measuring 200 kilometres in circumference. This very minute, we are cutting across the path we covered on 17 February at 17:00 Moscow time. 6 days of lost time; thrown to the wind in the purest sense. A pointless 200 kilometres. A week ago, we had 2,150 miles to Cape Horn, and now it is 2,170 miles. So, having travelled 200 km, we find ourselves set back by 36 km. Never in the entire history of my yachting and rowing voyages have I found myself in such a situation. Yes, I encountered storms, lost a day here and there, but to lose 6 days without making a metre’s progress! In fairness, I’ve never taken a rowboat through the Southern Ocean before, but coming to terms with an ordeal like this is difficult. In big cities, people grow anxious when traffic makes them an hour late. I thought that on 23 February I would cross the 120o West longitude, with less than 2000 miles left to Cape Horn, but my expectations didn’t come off. I will remember this loop at point Nemo for a long time. The ocean is detaining us in this isolated part of the world, not allowing us to tear free and near the Chilean coast. It means it is God’s will. He has guided me away from something more dangerous, keeping me in the same place for close to a week.
At the beginning of this journey I dreamed that I would reach Cape Horn on 8 March. 90 days from the start. It is theoretically possible; I crossed 3,000 miles in the Atlantic in 46 days. But within a month I was mentally preparing for the end of March. Now I am thinking that it would have been good to traverse Cape horn before Easter Sunday (28 April), so I could celebrate it in Russia. So, there you have it, I was supposed to arrive at the beginning of March, but the ocean desires to keep me here a little longer. The main thing is to arrive at all. You can’t leave things up to chance out here. At any moment, the situation could extend beyond my control. For example, at dawn today the wind and waves began to calm. I relaxed, and suddenly a wall of water was raised astern. A so-called freak wave, a third bigger than a regular one, which pitched the boat down its slope. I just managed to notice a peak speed of 14 knots on my onboard computer as the boat glided and raced along the wave. At any moment it could broach and roll over through starboard. It seemed the storm was over and I could relax, but the ocean will always keep you alert.
Today is a public holiday in Russia – Defender of the Fatherland Day. I acknowledge our military and those who serve. Protecting the Fatherland is a noble cause.
Fedor Konyukhov
47’35 South
125’38 West