South America breaks down at its end into a maze of islands, Tierra del Fuego, the drowned tail of the Andes which after a circuitous undersea tour of the Southern Ocean, rises again to form the Antarctic peninsula and associated islands. Cape Horn forms the prow of the last outflung group a day's sail from the main islands. The area between is called Bahia Nassau, nicknamed Nausea Bay because of the fierce winds which focus and accelerate between the hills, and the resultant choppy waters. Our mission today was to cross this without succumbing to seasickness, which we did, and very fast, reaching ten knots at times in forty-knot wind.

How to describe a chaotic sea, erratic winds, agitating it in shifting succession, currents at cross purposes? First, a base swell, growing from infant wavelets at the beginning of a fetch, building to full maturity as the fetch increases in length. Add one or two cross swells, remnant momentum of earlier wind. Push the swell in multiple top breaking mounds, often kicking up vertically as they crash in opposing directions. Then, pock the scalloped surfaces, some clear, some foam. The foam trailing a breaker lies aback the wave, itself pushed into little ranks of wavelets, rippling the surface of its larger parent. Overlay all this with driven spray and now drive through a thirty-ton vessel, sharply heeled, slicing, driving, riding, swooping through, harmonizing (mostly!) its motion obliquely with the waves. Which means nose up, down, starboard gunwales under rushing water on the down wave, spray flying, helmsman fighting to keep course in a thrilling dance to a roaring, howling squall.

Seamen know what ten or twenty or thirty knots mean as wind speed. There is a measure called the Beaufort Scale which gives an idea of the conditions we have been in. Starting with "light air" it goes through moderate to fresh to strong breezes, gales, and storms, concluding with "hurricane." Today we started with a fresh breeze (22-27 knots, perfect fast racing weather in Toronto), moved onto a moderate gale (28-33 knots, regattas start to be cancelled in Toronto), and then a fresh gale (24-40 knots) with squalls into strong gale territory and gusts to 60 knots. A 25-foot yacht like a shark would have been turned over. Seal stormed right through to our exhilaration as we crowded, spray-soaked, in the cockpit. On a close reach, the three-reefed mainsail and half-unfurled headsail took us at one point to 10.2, past the hull speed of the boat!

Our journey is developing a symmetry as we return to the same safe havens we used during our departure. Now we are anchored once again in Caleta Margarita. It's St. Patrick's Day. The Irish sea ballads blast out and the wine flows. The conversation is rapid, multi-faceted, lively. An outside observer (of which there are none) might say raucous. (posted by Roger)

For more about Seal see http://www.expeditionsail.com.