A wave? What does a wave look like? On a blue bird day they are crystal blue and a six-foot wave from the seat of an ocean rowboat seems huge. There is the swell that rolls by mainly from one direction. On top of this are small wind waves making the water lumpy and hard to read. They rise and swell with a sound like fabric ripping towards us. Sometimes it jets under our boat and we roll over it without notice, other times they slam our boat with a slap and a crash of water. Each one seems to have its own agenda and will pick rowers at random to soak. Sometimes bow, sometimes stern, and often both. Occasionally a random swell will roll in from another direction, combining with the prevailing waves and making peaks. Our oars will flap and slam the top of the water trying to regain rhythm.
Pat and Adam recount beam wave that broke oar (4min 37sec)
…A bit breezy… Sorry about the wind in the microphone. **No hard swear words, but some possibly offensive language**
A nine-foot wave is huge… from the stern it rolls like a freight train. It rises the stern and slides through the boat, spilling into the sides of the boat… gently though, before sucking the boat forward on the back side. [Click the link to continue reading the story accompanying the audio]
Last night they were black lumps, the crashing the splashing of each wave bringing a smell of marine warmth. Adam and I rowed at midnight, two hours into a four-hour shift. We ride into the beam (side) of the waves, by far the most uncomfortable. We rest. Adam rows gently with the waves, I stand in the stern. I hear the roar… out of the corner of our eyes see a steep black face off to port. We lean into it. A crash. We roll hard and the gunnels touch the water. White bubbles under moonlight. An oar, carbon wrapped over a wood core, snapped. Small sundry on deck float away. We grab all of them but some toothpaste, conditioner… and one of our PDA that keeps our schedule. Luckily this was one of three.
Pat and Markus pulled all our vents shut. They thought we were going to flip.
The boat, fully loaded, rose up and spilled the water back into the sea. As soon as we could gain control we began to run with the waves. A more gentle course, but not favorable for going to Miami.
Shaken, we clean the deck while Adam holds course. I pull out our first of two spare oars and put it together. We run the night with the waves. In the morning we get an email saying we have gone too far south so we put out sea anchor and we ride the bow to the waves on a blue bird day… till the weather changes.
[Since then they’ve pulled the sea anchor and have started steady progress west again. Track the route here. -Greg]