2009. Dee Caffari, the first woman to travel the world backwards

Welcome to the special section “GdV 5th Years.” We are introducing you, day by day, An article from the archives of the Journal of Sailing, starting in 1975. A word of advice, get in the habit of starting your day with the most exciting sailing stories-it will be like being on a boat even if you are ashore.

Dee Caffari, the first woman to travel the world backwards

Taken from the 2009 Journal of Sailing, Year 35, No. 04, May, pp. 72-77.

Dee Caffari is a 26-year-old Irish girl. She had never gone sailing, but she wanted to fulfill a dream: to be the first woman in the world to circumnavigate the globe solo and upwind. She succeeded and tells how she did it.

At the age of 26, a British girl who had never sailed before gave up everything to fulfill her dream: to be the first in the world to circumnavigate the globe solo and upwind. She succeeded. And she tells how she did it.

They say there is satellite navigation and there are automatic pilots, satellite phones and magical equipment that on the on-board computer almost incessantly provides data on weather conditions. Today it is all too easy, and if something goes wrong, the air rescue men will pull you out of the ocean and get you home in time for tea. Maybe they are right. Maybe technology has taken something away from the current spirit of adventure, but some things never change. Those who smile and find fault never dreamed of sweating for months to get backers, to build the boat and, yes, to put all the best technology in it. Nor did he ever dream of embarking on a solo voyage. We would love to see him at the helm of a 22-meter boat that would normally require eighteen crewmen, across the Antarctic Oceans of the world against the prevailing winds and currents and against the entire rotation of the globe around its own axis. We would love to see him motionless at the helm piloting for hours as the wind and waves relentlessly crash against the boat. Or struggle relentlessly in those desolate places where the waves seem as big as houses when they crash over you and your boat, not caring whether it is day or night. In these cases you have to be able to keep the boat on course and repair the damage at the same time. No satellite phone has ever helped anyone get through times like these. The “impossible journey” may no longer be one. But it continues to be hard, very, very hard. Historically only five people have circumnavigated the globe from east to west against prevailing winds and currents. Dee Caffari is one of these “impossible” travelers!
(Sir Chay Blyth – Britain’s most famous yachtsman, solo sailor and winner of crewed ocean races).

Something is not going right

Something was not quite right. I climbed down the ladder and illuminated the cockpit with my flashlight. Aviva rose with each wave and fell back into the hollow, slamming with a terrible thud. The boat shuddered violently and flexed before beginning the ascent of the next wave. Water had invaded the deck and was pouring into the cockpit in roaring torrents. For the first time since I had skied Portsmouth in November I was afraid. The flashlight beam illuminated a skein of twisted lines, some of which had fallen aft. I grabbed my lifeline and crawled to my knees. As I pulled away from the shelter of the deckhouse, a wall of freezing water pushed me away until the lifeline was fully taut. My face was pressed against the cold, hard surface of a winch. I struggled to get back up, and when I did, I was amazed at the fury of the storm.

In the darkness I could see the froth of waves breaking all around us, as the crests were whipped by the wind and flew away in long foamy jets. The air was saturated with salt and I had to struggle to breathe. I struggled to retrieve the dangling tops with frozen hands, crawled forward again, unhooked myself from the lifeline, and lowered myself back into the square. Below deck the din was less deafening, but it caused more concern. I slipped behind the chart table and watched the instruments that indicated the increasing wind intensity. Not long before, the wind had reached 60 knots. Now, with each flicker of the figures on the dial, the speed was increasing. For the first time I saw the number 70 appear. I had already crossed the Antarctic Ocean aboard this boat and my confidence in her was total. Aviva was capable of holding her own.

But me? Facing a breakdown now would have been next to impossible. I put on some music at maximum volume in the hope of overpowering the din, but it was no use. I could not dampen the deep thud of the boat’s fall into the waves, the sharp groan of the wind through the rigging, the rumbling of the water on the deck, much less the creaking of the mast support structure echoing in the square. I turned off the music. As much as it strained my nerves to the brink, I had to listen to all those noises. The slightest change in mode would have been the first clue that something wasn’t working properly….

leggi anche

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Dee Caffari. Surrounded by ice

Over the next three days the wind did not subside. I went through the two storms, one after the other. Sometimes the wind would exceed 60 knots and leave me exhausted. The noise, movement and worry did not let me sleep or eat. After three days I felt exhausted. I could not think clearly and clearly. Every time I closed my eyes, visions of crashing waves assailed me. If I fell asleep, a few seconds later I would wake up with a jolt in fear that Aviva would give way. That same week, after the storms had finally passed us by, I saw icebergs for the first time. They were all around us, beautiful and deadly. When the icebergs were close they also appeared on radar, but if they were far away they were lost in the billows. I closed the watertight hatches, prepared the emergency kit and prayed.

In my diary I wrote, “At night I can’t do much more than cross my fingers, pray the radar intercepts the icebergs, and continue on my course. This will be another night with very little sleep and a lot of worry.” The fear and despair I felt as Aviva and I were surrounded by ice were new sensations for me. It was the most difficult point of the whole trip that should have made me the first woman to sail solo and nonstop around the world against the prevailing winds and currents. I did not know how to get out of that situation. But twenty-four hours later my perspective had changed. Tears and despair were of no use. I just had to take heart and accept things as they were.

While sailing, I noticed with amazement that I felt mixed emotions. In the most difficult moments I tried to find more determination in myself. Even after spending days and nights, sometimes even a week, with almost no food or sleep, I could find in myself the energy to fight against the elements. I never gave up on my dream. When I set out on this venture in November 2005, I had no idea how difficult it would be. I had long thought about the isolation and loneliness of sailing alone, but I had not imagined the amount of suffering I would have to endure month after month. It was not only a circumnavigation, but also a journey of self-discovery. Every day I had to find new energy and think optimistically. I convinced myself that in the challenge I could try to achieve more than I would have imagined. I learned that even the worst situations have an end. And that everything that happens must be related to previous experiences.

Thinking about the next goal

When I faced a new storm in the Antarctic Ocean with hurricane-force winds, I consoled myself by telling myself that I had probably already struggled against even stronger winds. I try to see the glass half full. Struggling comes naturally to me. So the goal of sailing solo around the world was broken up into smaller, more attainable goals. If everything was working on board, I would think about Cape Horn or Cape Leeuwin, or other important capes. When weather conditions worsened, I would approach the next objective. Sometimes it was to get past the nearest degree of longitude, other times just to survive for a few hours and make it to a new weather front.

When things were really bad, I would focus on each small step and give myself a reward at the end. If I had made it through the difficult hours, I would reward myself with a hot drink. If I made it through the whole day, I would treat myself to a nice rest with my favorite meal. If I made it through the storm, I would take a shower and change clothes. Regardless of the magnitude of the challenge you face, every small step matters. Even minor details can make life happy again. I went back to being the person I was before I left, but no one makes such a journey without changing a little. I became more determined.

I don’t understand why people spend so much time worrying about things for which there is nothing to do. Life is too short to waste it like that. You have to face challenges and not let opportunities pass you by. I admit, a trip around the world against the wind and against the current is excessive, and many times, when the weather conditions were frightening, I wondered why I was doing it. Sometimes I still wonder how it was possible for me to accomplish this particular feat. That is what my story is about. Even when you are out on the open sea battling the billows, with your eyes fìxed on the horizon, there are times when you wonder, “How the hell did I end up here?” .

Dee Caffari

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