ReviewJessica to be interviewed on metro ABC stations, including ABC Melbourne, ABC Sydney and Conversations on ABC Brisbane and also key mercantile radio stations. Reviews in major metro newsprints and magazines, including the Courier Mail, the Herald Sun, Woman’s Day and New Idea. Major key events and/or signings in metro cities.
About the AuthorJessica Watson was born on May 18th, 1993 on the Gold Coast of Australia . On May 15, 2010, at just sixteen, she became the the youngest person to have ever sail solo, unassisted and non-stop around the globe.
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
A note from the author
Thanks to all the people who have followed my blog. When I was putting this book together with my publisher, I started to rewrite the story of the voyage in a more established way, but it didn’t work. I lost something doing this. Instead, I decisive to include the blogs, altho they have been edited sometimes, and then exaggerate on them to disclose things I wasn’t rather ready to talk in regards to when I was at sea and to part things I have learned since. I hope you take delight in reading when it comes to my whole journey, not just my 210 days on the ocean.
It may get a bit mixing up but all around this book I have employed miles to measure distances on land, and nautical miles to measure distances at sea.
1 nautical mile = 1.15 miles
All temperatures are given in degrees Fahrenheit.
I’ve tried to explain the sailing terms as I go, but I have likewise included a glossary at the back of the book—I hope you find it helpful.
Jessica Watson, 2010
Chart of Jessica’s circumnavigation
1. Departed from Sydney, October 18, 2009
2. Crossed the equator, November 19, 2009
3. Caught my introductory (and only) fish, November 23, 2009
4. Christmas at Point Nemo—the furthermost point from any land
5. Rounded Cape Horn, January 13, 2010
6. Experienced four knockdowns in the South Atlantic Ocean, January 23, 2010
7. Passed south of Cape Town and Cape Agulhas, February 23, 2010
8. Roughly halfway amid Cape Agulhas and Cape Leeuwin, March 19, 2010
9. Sailed under Cape Leeuwin, back in Australian waters, April 11, 2010
10. Wild seas rounding Tasmania, May 2, 2010
11. Arrived back in Sydney Harbour, May 15, 2010
What is it in the sea life which is so powerful in it is influence? … It whispers in the wind of the veldt, it hums in the music of the tropical night … above all it is there to the man who holds the nightwatch alone at sea. It is the sense of things done, of things endured, of significations not understood; the mystery of the Deep Silence, which is of eternity, which the heart cannot speak.
From Mast and Sail in Europe and Asia
by H. Warington Smyth (1867–1943)
Preface
A half-moon had risen, giving the sea a silvery sheen above the darkness below. After sunset, the still, glassy conditions of the afternoon had been blown away by a light wind from the west, and Ella’s Pink Lady was making good time under full sail with the mainsail, staysail, and headsail set. I couldn’t have asked for better conditions for my original night out. Watching Ella’s Pink Lady sail along at a steady 4 knots, I felt exceedingly proud of my cute little pink yacht. I contemplated the next few days before my circumnavigation. It was a gorgeous night, and the thought of something going defective was the furthermost thing from my mind.
I’d left Mooloolaba with an escort of boats and helicopters at around ten that morning, and after fifteen hours at sea and weeks of full-time preparation I was sentiment tired and somewhat queasy. It ordinarily took me a few days to find my sea legs. Confident that everything was fine, I decisive to put my head down for a few minutes and have a catnap.
Ella’s Pink Lady and I were regarding 15 nautical miles east of North Stradbroke Island by this point. I’d have liked to have been further offshore, away from the local fishing fleets and possible shipping. However, the current and earlier light winds meant I hadn’t sailed very far since leaving. After scanning the horizon, checking the radar and AIS (alarm indication system), and setting my alarms, I climbed into my bunk, still wearing my life jacket and harness.
A horrid bone-shuddering explosion of noise woke me as Ella’s Pink Lady was all of a sudden stopped in her tracks and violently spun around. I jumped up as the amazing grinding noise continued, and a quick glimpse up through the companionway told me that we’d collided with something huge: a ship. The sky was a wall of black steel, towering over me and obscuring the stars. The roar of engines filled my head and my whole world.
Leaning out into the cockpit, I grabbed at the tiller, flicked off the autopilot, and tried to steer us. It was hopeless. There was nowhere to go, not one thing I could do. Shuddering and screeching, we were being swept down the ship’s hull. Another glimpse told me that the ship’s stern, with it is bridges protruding, was fast approaching. The noises were getting louder and, knowing that my mast and rigging were regarding to come down, I rushed back beneath hoping for numerous protection.
With my hands over my head, I sat on my bunk as a whole new and far more terrible set of noises began. A few seconds passed, but to me they felt like hours. The cupboard next to me ripped isolated as the chainplate behind the bulkhead splintered it into a million pieces. The boat heeled to one side, then sprang upright with the loudest explosion yet as the entangled rigging all of a sudden freed itself and crashed to the deck.
When the boat steadied and the roar of the engines started to fade, I went back on deck. It was a mess. There was rigging, lines, and big rusty flakes of black paint and slivers of metal from the ship’s hull everywhere. Beyond Ella’s Pink Lady I could see the dark outline of the huge ship’s stern slipping away unaffected, leaving us at a stop in the foaming white slipstream.
Shocked and disbelieving, my head still reeling, I desperately tried to come to grips with what had happened while checking the bilges for water and the hull for damage. All I could think was, “my poor boat,” and while I flicked switches to see what instrumentation still worked, it became a sort of chant—“my poor boat, my poor, poor boat.” I was numb and still shaking off the last remnants of sleep; being affrighted hadn’t crossed my mind. My only thoughts were for Ella’s Pink Lady.
Taking deep breaths to calm my shaking hands, I picked up the radio to call the ship and then grabbed the phone to tell Dad what had happened. “I’m okay,” I told him. “I’m fine, perfectly okay, but we’ve been hit by a ship, we’ve been dismasted,” I finished in a rush.
Back on deck, alone and miles from land, it took me more than two hours to tardily clear the deck, lash the broken rigging in place, and cut away the tangled headsail. I had to pause many times to lean over the side and throw up, as my earlier queasiness had turned into full-blown seasickness. Finally, I turned on the engine to motor the six hours to the Gold Coast.
How quickly everything had changed.
Ahead of me lay at least 23,000 nautical miles of empty ocean, furious gales, and the threat of multiple knockdowns as I sailed around the world. But on that day, I doubted that anything I was to face in my months alone at sea would be as difficult as keeping my head high as I steered a crippled Ella’s Pink Lady amidst the Gold Coast breakwaters and saw the crowds lining the river, the fleet of viewer boats, and the scrum of waiting media.
I didn’t know if the crowd was there to show their support or to witness what a good deal of thought was my early defeat. I had to strength myself to ignore negative thoughts and to concentrate only on guiding us up the river, throwing the occasional wave and half-hearted smile to nearby boats.
I knew that in one horrifying incident I had given fuel to anybody who had criticized me and my parents for what I was attempting to do. In their eyes, I had proved precisely why I shouldn’t ever be permitted to sail alone. However, in that same moment, I had proved to myself that I had the capacity to achieve my dream. Any doubts regarding whether I could cope mentally vanished. I realized my inner strength.
In the coming months, when Ella’s Pink Lady was thrown violently when it comes to by the wind and waves, or when home felt a million miles away as we drifted, becalmed, and the days ran into each other in slow motion, I was competent to look back on that day after the collision with the 63,000-ton bulk carrier Silver Yang and draw strength from knowing I’d kept myself together when all I’d in truth wanted to do was fall apart. As the saying goes, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. That tanker could have killed me, but it didn’t. And in it is wake I was stronger, more determined, and ready for whatsoever came my way … almost.
© 2010 Jessica Watson
Excellent on Multiple Levels
Jennie
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