Leg 8 Blog

On June 6th, 1944, Allied Forces set off from the coast of Britain to invade Hitler's Fortress Europe in what would become famously known as D-Day. 

As we waited for the off in New York, poppies were showered over the Statue of Liberty by helicopter to remember those fallen in the battle, some 50 years before. 

The reason I'm doing this challenge is because I'm deaf and I couldn't be a pilot. Im not letting my disability stop me achieve what I want to achieve, I'm out here doing it. Seeing the sights to honour the brave people of D-Day, gave me the motivation to finish what I had started. 

The sailors on the race had all the usual fears of crossing an ocean. We had crossed the Atlantic twice before, however, the North Atlantic can be a beast when it wants to be. 

Only a few weeks ago, the yacht Cheeki Rafiki had gone down loosing all 4 crew. We would pass North of where the Titanic sank through an ice berg zone and sail over the Grand Banks where the film The Perfect Storm was said to happen. 

It wasn't all bad though, we were on our way home and it felt good to be going East for the last time. We set off on our Easterly course from Rio many months ago and a few weeks into the journey across the North Atlantic, we would cross the line of longitude and complete the circumnavigation. 

Race start had all the same thrills and we made excellent progress moving up into 1st place. The joys of leading though, are that you find the wind holes first and everyone else sees you stop then sails around you. This happened to us and sure enough the back of the grid loomed once more. 

We worked hard and continued to focus. As we approached the Grand Banks, the smell of fish was strong on the air and we entered into the ice berg zone. 

On the boat, you occasionally have fears that your mind wants to run away with, such as "what would happen now of the keel fell off?". You have to block these thoughts out and press on. When we entered the ice berg zone, I found I was never scared of hitting an ice berg until I was posted on look out on the bow. 

After sailing all those many miles around the world my mind was used to blocking out the bad thoughts, it blocked out the fears, until I had to stand there and look for them, it was quite a strange feeling. 

The crossing turned out to be a bit of a non-event with the sailing. It was an easy sail with the wind never really exceeding 20knots, which now, being a hardened sailor of course, is nothing. 

The rather large event on the trip though was when we crossed the magic line of 43 08 850and sailed every line of longitude around the planet. The first tick box was complete for the circumnavigation. Next up, race finish then to take the yacht home to Gosport.

We arrived in Derry and had a fantastic stop over. The people of the city were all out to see the boats, and much like in Albany, everyone was so friendly, offering you lifts everywhere, asking questions and wishing us luck. It was so nice, but after a week it was time to go again.

The next race was a short hop up and over the top of Scotland to Den Helder in the Netherlands. We hoped we would get one last storm to see us off but it was not going to happen. It was again an easy sail, with the views of the land being incredible all the way over the top, through the Pentland Firth and on the way back down as we glided in between the North Sea Oil and Gas Platforms.

Den Helder was another great stopover, but one comment kept cropping up.."let's finish this".

Before the race start back to London, Sir Robin Knox Johnson, the first man to sail solo non-stop around the world and Clipper Race Founder and Chairman, gathered all the Round the World crew members from the various yachts who had sailed the full distance. From around 150 that started, there were only 53 of us that had made it. 

We had a photo with Sir Robin, who then made a speech congratulating us. On record, only around 2500 people have ever sailed around the world, now we were added to the list. It's a very special club to be part of, making all the pain and sacrifices worth while to know that now, I have done it. 

We set off for London and this was Mission Performance's last chance to get a pennant. We had a very poor start but clawed our way back up to 3rd. We were flying the big Code 1 spinnaker, but we were pushing too hard and it blew up on us dropping us to 7th. After a rapid change to the Code 2 we caught back up to 4th only to then miss a mark, have to turn around and place again, at the back of the grid. 

The result didn't put me off what I had just achieved. We crossed the finish line off Southend Pier on the 12th July 2014 where on the 1st September 2013, we had set off in the other direction to France. 

The parade up the Thames was full of emotions. Happy we had made it, but sad it was all over. The last 10 months had been an absolute roller coaster but looking back it has been absolutely amazing. 

The times of fear in the southern ocean, the dramatic temperatures of the North Pacific and the Doldrums, the laughs and stories from all the crew I've sailed with. The wildlife from Dolphins and whales to Albatross, the sunrises and sunsets, the stars at night and the views of land after a large crossing or the islands off Malaysia. Every mile of the 47,000 we have done has been special in its own way.

We came into St Katharine Docks and I jumped up and down on the bow with such joy. The place was full of people all waving and cheering. We had done it! 

As we moored up, we stayed on board and cheered in every boat as the final positions were announced. My old boat GREAT Britain came 2nd overall and it's a fantastic result for the crew. 

Everyone asked me if I regretted moving boats and I'm sure the answer is no. I learnt a lot more about sailing, weather and navigation when I moved and more importantly I learnt a lot about myself. 

London was emotional. On land the beers and champagne flowed until the early hours, meeting your friends from the race and saying the last goodbye to them. We have been more than just sailors on different boats, we have been one big family, travelling round the world, all looking out for one another. Now at the end, people said their goodbyes knowing that we might never see each other again. It was very sad. 

After two days in the city it was time to take the boats back to where it all started. We motored back to Gosport to moor up at Clipper HQ. It felt so long ago that I came down for my interview. I was so nervous back then. The first time I went sailing on level 1 training, I thought that I would never understand what all the ropes did. And now look at me, a flipping circumnavigator with 47,000Nm under my belt! Thanks to everyone at the Clipper Race for everything. 

I started the Round the World challenge with 3 items to tick... 

1) To learn how to sail to see if I can continue into the sport in the future. 

I learnt so much about sailing and by going on both yachts, I saw how different items with the team and trim affected performance. On both yachts I was regarded as one if the top helms and trimmers. So I've learnt to be a good sailor and would like to see if I could do more racing and training in the future.

2) To be pushed to the absolute limit to see how I reacted. 

On GB, I was hit by a monster wave and my crew mate was knocked out. Instead of panicking, I calmly assessed the situation and managed the crisis. I was proud of how I reacted and its nice to know when it does all go wrong I can cope. 

A similar thing happened on Mission where Matt collapsed with cold shock. I took charge and the boat and crew were safe and controlled until he came round. Again, I was proud of how I didn't panic, I went into a kind of robot mode until it was all over. 

It's funny how we have been in such places where you are staring death in the face. But fear can't help you in an ocean, you can't just get off, you have to fight your way out of there. Following these events, everything on land seems a whole lot easier and a lot less stressful. 

3) To raise money for charity. 

So far I have raised £2700 for Action on Hearing Loss. This is fantastic and if anyone wants to donate more, you still can atwww.justgiving.com/Ben-pate-RTW. 

So, I have done everything I set out to do. My friends and family helped me through it, but my Girfriend Mona was the one who really made it happen. She was a rock when I needed her. Positive and supportive all the way. Thank you to everyone who helped me, everyone who sent messages or just thought of us on the way round. Thank you all so much. 

Now Im in Norway letting my body recover before back to work at Jaguar Land Rover. I have a broken toe, scars on my face from being hit by spinnaker sheets, painful knees from the hours of helming at an angle, tendinitis in both wrists from the same, a painful back from living in the cramped environment and missing about 10kg of weight from when I started. But it's all worth it.

And the key message from this blog is fear is out there, you just need to know when to use that fear to your advantage or when to block it out and carry on. You can't let fear of failure or fear of a situation stop you from what you want to achieve. 

Know what your dream is, make a plan, then go do it, those are my words of advice to all if you

Ben Pate - Circumnavigator 

Leg 7 Blog

Setting off from London seems a long time ago now. Everything was fresh and new, each day a new challenge that sent the minutes spinning off the clock. 

Now, nine months into the circumnavigation, just like the final stage of a marathon or long bike ride, the challenge is just to keep on going. 

Rightly or wrongly, Leg 7 is seen as a coastal cruise along the West Coast of America, through the Panama Canal and up the other side, stopping at Jamaica along the way. After the dreadful Pacific, we were all looking forwards to some gentle sailing and getting back to the warm climate after a month of being freezing cold and battered to pieces in the North Pacific. 

Just like Cape Town, everyone loved San Francisco, it's culture and lifestyle, along with the small city setting in the country just appealed to us all. I picked up a couple of books to read on the journey. My experience now said that as soon as we hit the low North latitudes, sleeping in the afternoon would be difficult, so some good reading material would be required. 

One book was about Larry Ellison and his conquest of the Americas Cup, in the very bay we were leaving. The other about a Navy Seal that was sent to Afghanistan and on a mission, lost his team and faced a battle to survive alone; both books would be inspirational on the race although then I didn't know it so. 

We started on a very breezy day in San Francisco. We headed out under the Golden Gate Bridge, the one that had welcomed us so warmly, with a reefed main and our smallest set of head sails. 

The new leggers, as usual were full of energy and pulling their weight keeping the boat going. The more experienced crew were using their knowledge to teach and trim to ensure the boat was moving at its full potential. 

Myself, I immersed myself in the navigation side again. This is an area I have been teaching myself since changing boats in Singapore. We had a great start and were up in the lead pack for days and holding second place, the mood on board was buoyant. 

However when the race tactics started to play out, we started falling positions. We ended up pinned on the South side of the race track and with the wind blowing from the North East, we could only tack our way down the Southern edge of the course making very slow progress. 

We entered the tropics and the heat set in. Sleeping became almost impossible because with the light winds, you were never really exhausted to just pass out in your bunk. You just lay there, sweating and for me, reading. Sleep deprivation became the big factor for everyone.

Reading the Larry Ellison book, I became super competitive. Reading about a sailing team competing at the highest level and excelling rubbed off on me and reminded me that one of the reasons I'm doing the race is to learn about the sport to pursue it in the future. 

We knew we were a fast boat, I trimmed the hell out of it and when racing along side other boats we were always as fast or faster, but we had landed in a place where we simply could not compete with the other boats for line honours. 

We continued on until the race was called short due to low winds. We motored to Costa Rica to re-fuel before carrying on to Panama. 

After a short stopover in Panama. We had our slot to go through the canal. We slipped lines and said good bye to the Pacific for good. The canal was a real experience, and very few of us realised that only a short section is "canal", the rest is a vast lake which the canal makers flooded in a rainforest. We exited in the early hours and motored to the next start line for the short race to Jamaica. 

This race was a three day sprint. As a team, we decided to put everything into it. Specialised helms, ensured the weight distribution was right with everyone sat on the rail at all times and analysed boat performance every 15mins.

Before the race, I was fired up. I analysed the charts and knew that we should head off, tack East, wait for the Jamaica turning point to be due North and go for it. We had a great start, again, but headed with the pack West and saw a couple of boats tack off East but we did not follow. 

Sure enough after a tough battle North, we were at the back of the pack again finishing in 11th place. 2nd and 3rd places were filled by the boats that had headed off East.  

Jamaica was a welcome break, for the first time since Sydney we had multiple days off and we relaxed, climbed a waterfall, swam in a blue lagoon and soaked up the rays on white sandy beaches. It was bliss apart from our budget is now on the floor so our accommodation was a little less than to be desired. Hey ho. 

The final race of Leg 7 saw us leave Jamaica for a short week race up to New York. My tactics were to head around Cuba, head North West, rounding the island by the scoring gate then head due North. Our skipper said in our initial crew briefing he was going to target two fast boats, Henri Lloyd and Derry~Londonderry~Doire. He wanted to stick on their tails and ensure we were up in the top half of the table. 

The race started and we had the best start of all time. A great piece of driving from the skipper saw us round the first mark in 2nd place. We headed off on another tacking fest to the Eastern edge of Cuba and held our strong position almost all the way.

Now, weather forecasting is not easy at the best of times. Prediction of winds is commonly wrong. Our skipper predicted that heading West would see us get stronger winds than the rest of the fleet who had hit the scoring gate and were now heading north. We headed off west and ended up in lower winds. The fleet got away and the race was called short again. We scored 9th place, again not a true testament of how fast a boat we are.

Laying in my bunk writing this as we motor to New York, I really don't know how to feel. Before the race start in London, I worked my rear end off studying sailing. I attended extra courses to learn how to sail. I read books, looked on the Internet and practised predicting the weather at home and when working abroad. This has been my approach to any challenge in my life. This is how I was able to work in F1, become a test driver and complete all of my other achievements. 

I know I'm good, because I worked and still work to learn and keep learning to make myself a better sailor. Maybe one day I can be one if the guys in Larry Ellison's team? Why not, chase your dreams right. 

But remember the other book. The other book is about a Navy Seal who was sent out to Afghanistan to sniper an Al Quieda leader with his team of 3 other seals. When the mission was laid out, all 4 seals had very bad feelings about the mission and thought the lack of cover in the area would make the mission extremely dangerous. 

The book accounts their training and how discipline is key to the military. If you are told to do something, you do it. No matter what, you trust your commanding officer and do it. The mission turned out to be suicide with 3 of the team being killed within 24 hours. Another team who flew in to aid them were also killed on approach to the area. Only one person survived and he wrote the book. 

And this is the relevance to this leg for me. On the boat I have a watch leader and a skipper. They are my commanding officers. To be an effective team, we must all work to the orders given. If not, chaos will outbreak with everyone just doing what they want with no respect to the hierarchy in place. 

So even though it really sucks being at the back of the pack, knowing I'm a good sailor and super competitive, to be the best team player I can be, I just need to offer my suggestions and do my job, crew member, to the best of my ability. 

This blog is not written to point out any flaws in our team. Everyone is learning, everyone is having their own experience, what will be will be and it is what it is. 

This is my story though, and for me, patience and persistence under the most stressful conditions is what I'm being taught now. 

In New York, we will be on the homeward stretch and when we cross 43 Degrees West, I will have sailed around the world.

Just, keep, going. That's all I need to do now, especially as it's absolutely freezing now! 

Ben Pate

Pacific Blog

I'm sat in a run down laundrette on the outskirts of San Francisco completing one of the chores you have to do in port. Washing clothes and haircuts are required when travelling around the world, and it's funny how random the places you end up in are. 

Looking back on this leg, now being sat on dry land with the sun on my back, albeit in an equally smelly location to the boat, makes you really appreciate life as we know it, compared to what can only be described as survival on the worlds largest ocean, that was Race 10, the North Pacific Challenge. 

We set off from China with a 100 strong drummer unit, being told to be strong and proud as we are the warriors of the oceans. The 12 boats left port and headed out to the start line. When we got there, there was a debate over starting due to the fog that had rolled in. With the number of boats in the fleet, the racing at the starts is very close, with often only meters separating the hulls as the skippers jostle for positions. 

We started the race, however after an hour the race was called off due to the low visibility. The race directors ordered is to motor for 3 days to the south of Japan and to start the race from there.

Starting the race again was good and we headed up along the coast and sailed our route which would follow as close to the rhumb line as possible. The shortest distance across the planet is not to go in a straight line from east to west, but to use the curvature of the earth to your advantage and use what is called a great circle route, heading north west before heading down south west. 

We soon had our first storm, a warm up to what lay ahead we thought, with the winds around 40knots. The new guys were a little apprehensive but the old hands like myself, who had seen much worse in the southern ocean, calmed them down by saying this wasn't anything too bad and not to worry. I had my first test on the helm and battled with the waves to keep the boat on course. 

Matt, the skipper was on deck a number of times and in one occasion I misjudged a wave which crashed across the boat, scattering the crew like pins in a bowling alley. Following this, Matt gave me some great hints on helming which improved my skills by a long way. 

Soon enough we crossed the 40 degree north barrier and the temperature plummeted. The first test was the storm, now the second challenge was coping with the cold. Layering up was key, and as a crew we acted like teenagers going out to a date, discussing what each other was wearing on regular occasions. I wore 6 layers on top, 3 layers down below and 3 pairs of socks, and I was still cold. 

We battled with the cold, but during the second storm which hit, Matt came up on deck when we were having difficulties putting a reef in the main. He hasn't dressed properly, leaving off layers below his dry suit to get up on deck quickly. After 15 minutes aiding wrestling the mainsail he went down below. 

The next thing I remember is looking down and seeing Matt collapsed on the floor. In the middle of an ocean, some 1000 miles from shore, in a storm, the last thing you want to see is your skipper out for the count. 

I summoned the doctor on board and the second in command coxswain. I ran the deck, de-powering the boat as much as possible to aid the team down below get Matt up and running again. 

The doc said he was suffering from cold shock, where the bodies core temperature falls so much it's shuts the body down. We wrapped him in sleeping bags, rubbed his fingers and got him round again. 

The number 2 on board, Derick, took the wheel whilst we were sorting the boat and Matt out. We dragged the headsail down then I was called back to help Derick as he wasn't feeling good. Next thing, he is down below collapsed with Cold Shock as well. Matt was back up and running, and the boat was in control so luckily I wasn't left in charge as I'm number 3 in command on board. 

This was a scary thought though. I completed the Coxswain training for circumstances just like this. If Matt hadn't have come round, I would have been responsible for the entire crew and the vessel. It made me think the responsibility the skippers have on their shoulders, all the time. 

More and more crew started dropping so we called for a new procedure where no one was allowed to be on deck for more than 30 minutes. This cured the cold shock issue and we had conquered another challenge.

Next up though was the rain. A low was sat in the middle of the race track and on our route, we went over the top. Now being cold is one thing, but being cold and wet is just plain miserable. 

The racing at times is very boring, but in the nice rich blue sea and sun of the tropics, the hours pass easily. In the North Pacific, where the sea is a hatred black colour, it's hard to pass the hours.  You just had to keep on going, manage your kit, keep dry and just keep going. 

All through the first part of the race, we were pushing the boat hard and competing many headsail changes to set the boat up the best for the conditions. I was on mother duty one day and at night had the luxury of a full night off to sleep. As I hunkered down in my bunk and drifted off, I was awoken to the sound that no one wants to hear. The sound of one of your crew mates screaming like their life depended on it. All hands on deck was then shouted below and I knew something was wrong. After the cold shocks, we were all very careful to ensure we went up on deck properly dressed, but this was awful. Being down below, hearing someone in trouble, but not being able to get up to help as you had to get dressed was just painful. 

By the time I got up on deck, Sophie, our youngest female crew member was coming down. She said briefly that she had been overboard and wasn't making too much sense, so I headed up to find out what was going on. 

As I looked around the boat, I could see our headsail flapping wildly in the wind. It had built to 60 knots of breeze. 

The reason it was flapping was due to the bottom of the sail had been ripped off. A sheet had snapped, causing the boat to lurch, Sophie had been swapping over the helm at the exact wrong time and gone over the side luckily tethered on with the safety strap. The sail had then so much load put through it where it attached to the second sheet, the clew ring had come off. Sophie had been dragged out the water with no issues but we had to get the sail down. 

Cue a 3 hour wrestling match between the crew and the sail to get the sail safe, fix the damage to the lines and get the storm jib up. 

Once the work had been completed, Matt gathered us all around and told us all to get a brew, sail slow and safe and wait out til morning before attempting to go fast again. I think after his incident and then Sophie's, he started to analyse the risk and throttled back to make sure we just got to land in one piece. The race is one thing, loosing crew is another, and a lot more important. 

We raced the next half of the race very cautiously and dropped positions rapidly. For me this was very difficult. I could understand the reasons, but I was competitive. I wanted to race again, not only to get a better position in the race but to get to land quickly. The events were unlucky so in my mind we had to get going again. 

This was my next challenge. I often have problems throwing my toys out the pram when I don't agree with something, but here I had to learn to have the mental strength to not kick off, but to sit, be slow and follow commands. 

We are a team when we go out, having an individual in a team that is constantly negative and questions the leader is bad for everyone but I didn't learn and continued to be in a foul mood. 

The mood continued for day or two until one day on our watch, we were all tired, wet, cold and hungry and we all fell out when completing a reef evolution. 

We shouted and screamed at each other, told each other exactly what we thought of them and ended the watch feeling better, but with lots of open wounds. We had a de-brief and discussed everything that was going on. We spoke about it all, got it out in the open and then started a rather awkward phase of trying to get back to the high performing unit we were. 

At this point we started to turn south and everyone started to feel the relative warmth and land was only 1000 miles away. 

I was physically and mentally broken from the previous 25 days and being so close to land was painful, but it got even harder when we got hit by a wind hole and stopped in our tracks. The wind hole really pushed us all. We all just wanted to get to land, but with no breeze, we couldn't go anywhere. 

A day later the wind filled in and we were on our way again. We had a good run into San Francsisco and passing under the bridge will be a moment I will never forget. We had done it, we had survived. 

Looking back, coming 11th doesn't matter, surviving in a place where fewer people have been than the top of Everest does. 

I learnt this leg that control of frustrations is vital for an effective team. Each person had their own ways of controlling their tempers in those times, whether it be count to 10 or take a deep breath.

For me, I just learnt to stop, think about the bigger picture, where we were and what we were doing and would a negative comment really help. I hope I can still control this moving forwards on the race and after as this is a weakness of mine that I really need to deal with.

And that is the great thing about this race and any challenge that you may complete. At times when you are at your limit, you really see your own bad points. So you see them at their worst and the effect they have on people around you. Now, I can sort it out, and hopefully become a better person, leader and sailor in the future. 

San Francisco is an amazing city and we were lucky to have a guided tour around the place by one of my girlfriends mates. We've seen the bridge, the mountains and it was really nice to escape the Clipper bubble for a brief moment. 

After 33,100 miles of sailing a rest is certainly needed. I've lost 10% of my body weight and now, hopefully the big challenges are over. We are on the western side of the planet again, definitely on the way home. 

So, my washing is done, I need to get some more quarters for the dryer then tonight we will catch a movie and consume more calories to get me fit and ready for the next race. 

Sailing is certainly the easy bit of this adventure. Til next time folks. Jamaica awaits!! 

Race 8 Blog

Hello chaps, hope all is well back at home, I hear you are having storms so hope they are not too bad. 

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I stated race 8, from Brisbane to Singapore with the excitement of a gentle cruise, nice warm temperatures, low winds and some spectacular scenery. I knew the race would be long however I was prepared for this. 

We left Brisbane and started sailing upwind. Usually on the race, we travel down wind so the boat is level, the wind feels low as you are traveling with it and conditions on board are a lot easier. When beating upwind, the boat is heeled over, everything down below gets harder and it's generally more demanding.

We beat up wind for days and days and as we approached the tropics, we encountered more and more squalls, discrete areas of high wind and rain, where you need to down sails and hang  on until then pass through. 

After the first week the strain was already starting to show. People weren't getting sleep, the temperature had shot up to mid thirties on deck and above forty down below. You would go to your bunk to sleep and immediately sweat. Dyhydration soon became a problem and when we most needed water, our water maker broke and we were limited to two litres of water per person. 

And outbreak on DnV occurred (Diorriah and Vomiting) and I was unfortunate to catch this. I also had psoriasis on my chest and a wisdom tooth popping through. 

Needless to say, my thoughts of a nice cruise were well and truly out the window and I just had to be mentally strong to push through all these obstacles to carry on racing. 

Then when the crew was at its lowest, we entered a squall and started preparing to down sail. Then from no where a water spout, which is a mini tornado about 40m wide, hit the boat. I was at the back of the yacht behind the helm as the tornado hit. The boat went over so the mast was resting in the water and saw the crew on deck get swept off their feet into the water. One guy on the mast was holding on to a line above his head, that in normal racing, is vertical on the mast. 

The tornado swept through only lasting 10 seconds. After it has passed the boat righted itself and we assessed the situation. The crew on deck were obviously shook up. Down below people had been thrown out if their bunks, kit had been spread across the yacht and all the washing up from lunch was now on the wall. 

Disaster had struck, again. Now there are two ways to approach a situation like this. You quit and nurse yourself home, or you dig deep, don't give up and carry on. Luckily all the crew had the same mentality and we pushed on again. 

As we approached the race finish we went through a series of islands off Malaysia which were absolutely stunning. 

We had again been pushed to the limit, pushed on through and been treated with the amazing sailing we were all after. 

As we approached the finish line, I was on the helm and we had Henri Lloyd in sight. We tried to go under them at the finish but had a number of collapses of the spinnaker which meant we finished second in the race. Mood was low, but after all we had been through. Second was well deserved. 

In the run to the finish I tried to helm the boat like a would have raced a car. But later after speaking to a more experienced sailor on board, we should have gone above HL as our kite collapses were due to us being in their wind shadow. I still want I peruse competition yacht racing in the future and this was a real eye opener on how much I've learnt about sail trim and ocean racing tactics, but there is still a lot to learn about yacht racing boat to boat. 

We passed the line and motored home due to the pirate risk in the area. I wrote a blog that day which is below. There is no need to try and re-rewrite the words as they were my thoughts and feeling in that day. 

"....Today we awoke to a marvellous sun rise, the water is perfectly still and we are motoring through a series of islands in the Basilian Straight by Malaysia.

Being close to land, we have phone signal so I was able to phone home to the UK and wish my father a happy birthday and the afternoon plan is to stop and meet up with all the boats in our convoy, so I should be able to see my girlfriend. We placed second in the race and now we are resting and recovering.

Today could be one of those days that all the pain I went through to save the money for the race pays back and makes it all worthwhile. I remember the sadness of selling my flat, trading in my nice car and buying a Rover; Not buying new shoes when they had holes in so all winter I had wet feet and making sure I went to the supermarket at 7:50pm to raid the fresh food counter to get discount meat before it went in the bin. These are just a handful of sacrifices I went through for the seat on the boat.

As we motor towards Singapore, now is a time for reflection and I look back on the previous series of races. I remember all the hard work we put in, all the times we were scared, sad, tired, hungry, sick and the way we battled through them to get to here. The team we have created and the bonds between people after going through them all together.

On board, in these quiet times like now, you can see people like I have done, taking moments on the bow, deep in their thoughts, thinking of the past or the future. You let them have their time to do what they need to do.

The more you speak to people the more you understand their stories, and the more you get a glimpse into what may be running through their heads at these times.

I believe everyone comes on Clipper Race to run away from something, or to have a break to clear the mind and figure out the next chapter of their lives.

For me this is certainly true, I have had a challenging leg but I've started to finalise plans for what I'm doing after the race. I came on the race to figure out the next few years, to get off the treadmill and take a year to figure out what this life has panned out for me. What choices I have and as a person what I want to be to make me happy.

One example is that I used to want to the top guy, the best in the crowd, the team leader, watch leader and coxswain. The race has taught me that yes, I have some qualities that I can use to do this, but actually I'm better and now I prefer to be the strong member of the team, taking direction from the leader. I'm happy at times to see how others approach a situation and watch to see the outcome, rather than fighting to get it done my way.

Another is the adventure we are all going through travelling was never on the radar before joining the race, but now it had opened my mind to the possibilities. Chay Blyth said, "You should never finish an adventure without having the next one in your mind" so I've started to plan the next adventure already. The next two years of my life are starting to take shape into an amazing time to look forwards to.

So I feel I'm set. I just hope the crew on the bow taking their moments, the times they come up on deck having read an e-mail and need a moment or the times they need a quiet moment, they figure it out too, whatever it may be.

The Clipper Race is sometimes criticised by people for being cheap, having poor equipment, poor organisation etc. But I think this is very unfair. You can't put a price tag on the challenge the race is, the moments where the individual is pushed to the limits to see how they respond.

The best sailor on board doesn't have a challenge with the sailing, they have the challenge with the heads cleaning, the hot conditions and the mother duties. They get pushed to the limit in these areas just as much as the elderly woman who can make bread at 30 degrees of heel but struggles keeping up with the racing.

These experiences shape you as a person and these are the experiences that help with those thoughts and decisions. Hopefully you then start to answer those questions in your mind until a clarity of thought appears.

So to all crew on board all yachts, past and present, I hope you join me in saluting the Clipper Race. I thank the staff for their hard work for putting me here, to be able to push me to the limit, to then be able to sort through it all in my mind and now have a plan for the future.

I'm grateful for Sir Robin’s vision. I now get what he means by his saying "This is the best thing I've done with my life...so far" because it is and I know, after this, I will keep going and I will say that phrase again and again and again.

Oh the best thing, we are only 50% done...."

So I'm changing as a person, learning a new craft and being pushed to the absolute limit. All the three items I wanted out of the race are all starting to be ticked off. 

I guess the moral of the story is if you make a plan, work hard and go and do it, you too can accomplish your goals and find what you're looking for.

Ben Pate

 

Australian Blog

Australia has always been one of the places I was looking forwards to visit on the race. I've never really travelled before, apart from Europe with work, so traveling to all these amazing places around the world is one of the best aspects about the Clipper Race. 

For the Australian leg, we raced from Albany to Sydney, then competed in the prestigious Rolex Sydney Hobart Race, which would take us down to Tasmania, the furthest point away from home and from there, we raced back north up to Brisbane. 

The leg initially had the good aspect of short races on the boat. The previous races have been 2-4 week stints, so the thought of getting on for 3-10 days felt good - how wrong was I! 

So Race 5 took us from Albany to Sydney. We would dive south, round Tasmania and up past the Bass Straight to Sydney. Race starts are always hectic. Twelve 70ft raving yachts battling for position on a start line, then all heading for a mark to turn on makes for very close racing. I was on the bow of our boat trimming the head sails as we approached the first mark. PSP Logistics and Switzerland were above us as we closed in on the turn. Our angle to the wind was very tight and it would be close as although we were ahead, the other boats we taking over us. As we got closer and closer, all three boats converged and the skippers started shouting for room. As PSP crossed in front of us, we lost wind in our sails and ended up rounding up straight into the back of their boat. Stood on the bow I had full view of our bow sprit crash into their boat and eventually snap off. 

This was an amazing sight, and certainly one I will never forget. Both boats were called back for repairs as the rest of the fleet headed off shore. Both skippers blamed each other, but as in all sports, off the pitch the crews were friendly with each other and we enjoyed a steak dinner and set off the next day. 

We still raced the course as we thought we could catch the back markers, so this meant a full on, hard grind of a race. Setting off a day late, we arrived in view of the Sydney Hadbour Bridge and the famous Opera house an hour behind the back markers. A true testament to how fast we are. 

The incident went to an international jury and unfortunately it was decided we were in the wrong and we were disqualified from the race and lost two points for the damage. This was devastating and had a large impact on our championship standing. 

We didn't let it get us down and re-grouped ready for the Hobart Race. For those not familiar with Sailing, the Sudbey Hobart is a very big event. It's live on Australian TV and attracts many professional crews and large 100ft super maxi yachts. 

The Clipper Fleet would be competing against some of the best yachts around, but I was realistic about our chances. Our boats are designed to sail around the world. We carry kit to ensure we can get through hurricanes in the southern ocean, and keep 20 crew happy and fed for up to five weeks. The other yachts are stripped out sprint machines so its not really a fair contest.

The race start was again incredible. Ninety four yachts lined up in the harbour waters and raced across the star lines before turning right and out off shore. Helicopters were flying around, the shores were lined with people and the atmosphere was amazing. 

We needed to push hard in this race so we specialised on board. I was in the helm team so completed two hours on and four hours off for the duration of the trip. The race was tough with big waves and high winds, but with all the effort the team out in we crossed the line in 2nd in our class. What a result. 

Hobart was a nice place and we took some time out to relax. We went to a nature park and fed kangaroos and saw Wombats and Tasmanian Devils. It was so strange to see an animal you've never seen before! We celebrated the new year in board watching the fireworks over the bay. It was such a symbolic time as Hobart is the furthest stopover from home. The new year would bring the start of the race back to England, albeit heading north for a couple of months before turning East again. 

By the time of the race up to Brisbane the toll on the crew was starting to show. The problem with these short races is that you never get settled into a routine on the boat. It usually takes 4-4 days to settle into the watch pattern. In these 4-5 days you have little sleep but on the longer legs you generally have a lower, less stressful workload. The short sprints meant the workload was very high so we were all broken. 

We raced as hard as we could up to Brisbane saying goodbye to the Southern Ocean for good. Mistakes were made by the skippers navigation and the crews performance so we placed in 5th. We've all got off the boat tired, sore and in need of some well deserved rest. 

Luckily in Brisbane I booked an apartment on the Internet. The price looked cheap for the quality I saw in the pics, so assumed the pictures were the suites and we would be in a back room somewhere. However we arrived and the place is amazing! I'm currently sat on a comfy sofa, the flat screen TV is on. My girlfriend is in the power shower and we have just cooked up some eggs for breakfast. If you remember from my first blog, I discussed how un-important these things are. The experience of being out travelling is the greater thing, which I still standby, but I can't lie. After 20,000 miles of ocean racing this is bliss! 

Although we didn't get the the results we wanted, we all learnt some very important lessons in these races. As they were all so short, they all came down I how many mistakes you made. Being on the helm requires discipline and commitment. Just like driving, the way you go fast is to concentrate on every corner. When I drive the Nurburgring, there is one corner in particular where these two items show themselves the most. As you exit Aremburg, the track heads downhill to a left hand turn at Fuchsrhore with a short straight before a sharp left turn at Adenhour Forst. 

To be fast on the track you have to keep you foot down all the way through the left hander let the car settle in the shortest distance before hitting the brakes hard before the hard left. The is very little run off and due to the trees the track has verying levels of grip in all three corners.

You need the discipline to not think about the dangers, not think about if a tyre pops, if the car breaks loose or any of the other items that could happen. You just need to focus on the corner, take your line and commit to it. If you don't, you're slow. 

On the boat, you have to do the same. It's pitch black, you have a large sail plan and the wind is high. You have to find the surfs. Jump onto them and go with it. You'll be going along at 20knots and the temptation is to steer out, thinking of the dangers, the "what ifs", but to be fast you have to commit and go for it. I feel this is why we know we are a fast boat because everyone on board has the discipline to commit. It's a lesson all people should take away from this. 

We now head north again to Singapore and I'm really looking forwards to seeing a new country and culture. We have a four week race, with a break in the middle to motor though a pirate zone. As we approach the tropics again, the heat and humidity will rise and life on board will be hot and sweaty again. But after months of thermals and foulies, the thought of being on deck in shorts and t-shirts at anytime of day will be amazing.

I read a quote on the Internet the other day which said "I wished I'd never gone travelling, is a quote no one has said, ever". I have found this to be so true. Being deaf sucks, but it doesn't stop you doing everything. Deaf or not, if you make a plan, commit and have the discipline to do it, anyone can do anything. 

Blog for Race #3!

So we won! What a relief to finally get a 1st under our belt. This places us second in the championship and the firm boat to beat by our rivals for the next race to Australia.
 
We started off from Rio with the familiar nerves and sadness to be leaving such a great city. We had an inshore race start which took us past Copacabana and Ipenema beaches. Racing against eleven other purpose built 70ft racing yachts, close quarters, in a moderate sea, with the sun shining and the view looking back of the Christ statue was a memory that will be hard to forget.
 
We made some great tactical decisions and left the beaches, heading offshore to Africa in 3rd place. We battled for 3 days to windward with the boat at 30 degree for most of the time which was painful. Everyone perfected there spider man skills as you need both hands and feet to navigate around the boat and the simple things like brushing you teeth become a 10 minute battle with gravity, with you loosing most of the time by having saliva and toothpaste down your front when finishing up. 
 
As we got further south we found the westerly's and headed South East moving to 1st in the pack. It's always stressful being at the front as everyone is chasing you, especially nerve racking when you can see another boat hunting you down. We had PSP Logistics on our starboard quarter for a day and a half which was nice to have a companion, but any mistake would have meant them taking the lead from us. 
 
Another tactical call was made to head due south as there was a region of low wind ahead. This meant we would go right down the pack as we were ultimately heading away from the finish whilst everyone else headed closer. We trusted the skippers direction and headed past 40 degrees south into the "Roaring Forties", which actually was no worse than what we saw off Cape Finesterre in Race 1 to everyone's relief. Here the wave size increased and as one of the specialist helmers on board, days were spent surfing at up to 22knots catching back up to the fleet in front, which brings a smile to the face at all times. 
 
As we were heading east we passed to the south of Gough island, a small island, owned by Great Britain, where a team of 9 scientists were based studying birds. How different our lives were, them on an inhabited island in the South Atlantic studying wild life, us on a high tech racing yacht passing by. We chatted on VHF for a while discussing the weather, their studies and our race, then got back to the important job of racing to the Cape. 
 
Down in these longitudes, the temperature dropped and full foulies and mid-layers were worn by all. I still wore my flip flops, but I certainly wrapped up. I found it difficult in these days to understand people as I rely so much on lip reading to pick up the other half of the conversation due to my deafness. I continually had to ask people to move their jackets down so I could see their lips when talking. It was strange at first to realise this about myself but nice to see the team accept it and work around the issue.
 
We set a northerly bearing to Cape Town and we made it up into 1st place as the other boats had slowed in the light airs, the tactical call had paid off but it was not won yet. One day we were flying the number 3 spinnaker when a problem occurred which meant it came free from one of it's control lines. As Watch Leader I ran forwards to lead by example, to try and get the kite under control. Cue the rope smashing me on the side of the face leaving me without hearing for a good minute. This was very scary and such a relief when it came back. I headed into the fight again and got hit again twice which knocked me to the floor. After re-examining the situation we found another way of getting control and managed to rescue to the sail, although it now had a 20m rip in it which left it un-usable for the rest of the race.
 
Luckily as we were heading North, the wind eased so we fly our number 2 and still made swift progress to the finish. With the end in sight it was a very stressful period, with only 20 miles separating us from second place. Any mistake and the race would be lost, so we held our nerve and happily crossed the finish line in the wind shadow of Table Mountain in the early hours in first place. What a massive achievement.
 
Looking back on the race so far, as a team we have been through so much and to get our first win was incredible. I feel I'm progressing as a person realising the things that made me stressed at home are not really issues to get caught up in. On the boat you go right back to basics. The only things you worry about are food, sleep, keeping warm and shelter from the environment. Everything else is just noise. What isn't noise though is the kind support from friends and family. It's so nice to hear everyone back at home is following the race and supporting me on my adventure. Thank you to you all.
 
So, the next race is a real test. The Southern Ocean for real with a 4800mile journey to Albany, Australia. Wish me luck!!
 
Ben

Race 2!

Hi guys, blog 2 here.

I'm also writing a lot at sea, so if you go to the crew stories section atwww.clipperroundtheworld.com you can see a lot of blogs from the race and this will continue in the future. 

It was a tough one! We got nailed in the doldrums hence the late blog. Follow the boat on the race viewer if you wonder why you haven't heard from me for a while! 

Ben
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Finally after 29 days at sea, I'm sitting here in the evening light looking at the boats with Rio's business district as the backdrop. To my left, the Christ statue stands high on the mountain caressed by clouds as they drift across the sky. 

We made it to Rio and placed in 7th, which if you asked me 4 weeks ago if I'd be happy with of have said no, but after the epic voyage across the Atlantic, I'm happy. 

Setting off from Brest we crossed the Bay of Biscay and had a Force 8 gale blowing us along. With around 40 knots of breeze, we flew our heavy weight spinnaker and were making above 20 knots of boat speed for days. We were flying. 

With the big winds and large waved sea came my first experience of fear on the boat. Usually I'm not scared to go up the front to change the sails, however in the dark I was petrified. I knew this would happen at some point in the race with the Pacific looming in a few months time, but not the start of race 2. Thankfully, my fear threshold increased as the days passed and I just ended up facing them square in the face and getting on with it.

The price for the speed was a number of breakages to the boat, and most critically our medium spinnaker when the wind eased in the trades. We were forced to race with the wrong sails which made us just bleed distance to the competition, dropping us down to 7th.

Next up was the doldrums, the dreaded no wind zone just north of the equator. The first couple of days the crew enjoyed a nice break from the hard work of the trip, following this though, the sound of flapping sails and no boat speed was driving us all to madness. We pushed to squeeze every ounce of movement from the boat and went to 1st place for a number of days which lifted spirits; but the doldrums lottery meant the no wind zone moved south with us and we ended up popping out in 8th, six long days later.

We chased the 7th place boat and sure enough caught them and passed them, firming to the crew that we are fast when we have the right tools for the job - wind and a working yacht.

Coasting into Rio was an experience to remember passing Sugar Loaf Mountain, looking up at the statue and looking back on the trip, the sailing was definitely the easy part. Facing fears, living with strangers in 70ft of space and coping with the pressure of close ocean racing was a killer. I was also watch leader again which added to the pressure being in charge of the team when the skipper was in bed or not on deck. 

My hearing was an issue in the winds when trying to hear commands on the helm. The skipper would shout up a course to steer but unless I turned my good ear to him and stop watching where we were going, which when doing 26 knots is really not a good idea, I just had to get someone to relay the messages which was a pain and difficult to ask someone to do. Luckily, one of the crew, Dale Acton also has hearing issues after being diagnosed with Cholesteatoma. He helped me out and we worked as a good team. It really points out that 1 in 7 people in the UK have hearing related issues, so we need to raise as much money as possible to fund the valuable research for the future.

Highlights were the amount of firsts I've ticked. Seeing the stars at night with zero light pollution was incredible. Dolphins and Whales by the boat and travelling the furthest south in my life is all part of the adventure. 

The race has already shown me that what we regard on land as essential really are not. Big screen TVs, the most up to date fashion, flashy gadgets are just materials. Being in a team of people taking on a challenge in clothes you've worn for a week, arm pits that have not been washed for days and food you would be cautious giving to a dog really puts life in perspective. 

Being happy and healthy with friends and family are all you can ask for in life. Coming 1st or coming 7th, well, I think I'm starting to change as a person. I'm happy I'm here with my crew in one piece, we were unlucky with the wind,  so lets take it and move to the next race to Cape Town. Cue 40degrees south, waves as big as houses and wind speeds up to 50knots!

Thanks for all the good luck messages and please please donate to the charity. 

Www.justgiving.com/ben-pate-RTW

Blog 1 - Brest!

The morning of the start of the Clipper Round the World Yacht Race was one of excitement, nervousness, sadness and wonderment. I signed up for the race in August 2011 which was the start of the previous race, so it had been a long time coming. 

With limited time to see all my friends and family before boarding the yacht, it was hard to spend quality time with everyone. I managed to see most people though and it was really nice to hear all the words of good luck and encouragement. Sorry to all those who came down that I just couldn't get round to see.

We left London with a parade of sail up the Thames and went through Tower Bridge for the all important PR shots. There was around 50,000 people lined up along the banks which was madness to look back at. Just more of the Clipper Race experience that you don't realise until you are actually in there. 

Many people in the crew had been in tears or went for moments alone after saying goodbye to their family and friends. I managed to hold back until I saw my family on the spectator boat. I suddenly realised I would not see them again for a whole year, so made a quick dive to the sail locker for a moment alone to shed a few tears.

We finished up the parade of sail and moored up in the evening ready for the race start the following morning. 

During training I had been one of the watch leaders which meant I was in charge when the skipper was off deck sleeping etc. The skipper selected me as the watch leader for Starboard Watch for the first race which I was very happy about. It's a key role on the boat and I saw it as a reward for all the hard work I've put into the training. It holds a lot of responsibility for the speed of the yacht and also the safety of the crew, so it's also a hard position to be in. It's nice to think the skipper sees me as one of the best on board to put me in this and will only help my future sailing career.

The time had come to slip the lines and head to the start line. Being the British boat, we have a lot of pressure to be competitive. Luckily the crew all want to perform well, so we, as leaders, could push them hard to race.

We had the tactic to fly the spinnaker off the line, but didn't want to fly it coming up to the line as we would loose manoeuvrability.  Any boat on the wrong side of the line before the start line has penalties enforced on them which could cost the race, so we had to be careful of that. We positioned well and crossed the line 3rd. We immediately got the kite up and moved up on the leader. 

After a hour or so we were in 1st and led the fleet for 120 miles until out of no where we drove straight into a wind hole. The fleet saw this, moved away and went flying past us. All the hard work maintaining the lead went straight out the window, but hey, this is yacht racing.

My watch came up on deck and this is where my training from being a team leader at Land Rover came into play. I motivated the team, explained the situation and set targets each watch. First up the boat in front, then the boat after that and so on until we are back in the lead. We really had to go above and beyond our usual race pace to get this back. 

My watch were awesome and revelled at the challenge. We trimmed the sails like mad men. I positioned people on the boat for best weight distribution and we changed sails when needed even at the expense of meals for the race. 

Sure enough 24 hours later we were back at the front. Game on. We had to be in Brest for Wednesday and with the light winds, the race office called to shorten the race. We were lying third and with an hour to go we had to be 0.5 knot faster than Qingdao to get 2nd. 

I was on the kite trim and the team fed me sweets and coffee to keep me going. I extracted every ounce of speed out the sail and we passed Qingdao taking 2nd by 0.7mile. Happy days! 

I thanked the watch for all their efforts and received some good feedback for how well I led the team. This made it all worth while. 

My favourite moment in the race was fighting with PSP in the light airs. I was on the helm calling trim to the team, we hit some breeze and like Nigel Mansell, pulled a dummy driving left then right overtaking them, stealing their wind and pulling away.

There were a few times my deafness got in the way when racing. Trying to hear the trimmers up on the bow was a nightmare in the big winds. I had to totally rely on lip reading and hand signals to get by. Also when on the port helm, the nav guys would shout up positions and I had to turn my head to hear. Turning my head, then made me steer right which messed up the course and the sails, so a bad net affect for the boat, but we worked around it in the end. 

Most of the crew now know about my deafness and we are working as a team not make it an issue. 

It's been a hard race, I've had to focus so hard and call some important shots for the team. We are now lying in Brest prepping for the next race to Rio. We need to do well to Rio to maintain the momentum of being a boat up at the front of the leader board. That should then set the tone for the rest of the race around the world. 

So its time for me to wash some clothes buy some multi-vitamins as we will run out of fresh food in the 22days to Rio and rest up ready for it. 

Please continue to help my charity atwww.justgiving.com/ben-pate-RTW.

Thanks for the support, next up date from Brazil! 

Ben

So here we go

The race of my life starts tomorrow. After 2 years in the making, tomorrow morning I will be setting off from St Katharine Docks and will not return until 12th July 2014, where I will have sailed around the world and completed over 40,000miles of racing. It is a life changer. I would just like to say thank you for everyone or all their support recently, those who have come down to wave me off and those who have sent messages of encouragement. Please help me charity www.justgiving.com/ben-pate-RTW. And please follow me around the globe at www.clipperroundtheworld.com. Game on.