Level 4 - the final traing
Level 4 is when things start to feel real. It’s the first time we train on our actual boat with our actual crew—Skipper, First Mate, and the people we’ll be sharing watches, weather, and possibly deodorant with over the next year. It’s another opportunity to get to know one another, and, more importantly, for the Skipper and First Mate to size us up and figure out who can steer in a straight line and who should probably not be left alone with the winch.
At the start of the week, we were handed our Musto foulies—a major milestone, both practically and symbolically. They're bright yellow but referred to as golden by Clipper and Musto, and treated with a kind of reverence usually reserved for Olympic medals or really good coffee. The foulies come as a two-piece set: a pair of heavy-duty salopettes(basically waterproof overalls) and a high-necked smock that feels part survival gear, part medieval armor. Once you put them on, you instantly look 20% more capable—whether or not you actually are.
Gavin and Zoe will be spending the year with seven of us circumnavigators—six men and me—plus about 47 other crew members who will rotate on and off the boat at various ports. We were meant to be eight, but unfortunately, Lon from Utah had an accident shortly before training and will need shoulder surgery and rehab before he can join us on one of the later legs. It’s such a pity—he would have rounded out the group nicely, and we were all looking forward to sailing the full journey with him. For now, he’s with us in spirit, and we’ll be saving a spot at the rail.
Our watch had five people, and I was particularly pleased to have two other women in the group. Sailing often skews male, and while competence isn’t gendered, it’s nice to hear a few familiar voices when things get hectic and someone’s yelling about a spinnaker.
During Level 4, we practiced a wide range of things that we’ll actually have to do during the race, including the parade of sail, which involved several boats sailing in formation like a very determined group of ducks. It looks lovely from the shore. From on deck, it’s mostly just a lot of shouting about spacing and angles and trying not to accidentally T-bone another team before we’ve even left the harbor.
Here you can see us lining up for the Le Mans Start
We also practiced towing and being towed—something I hadn’t expected, but it turns out we’ll occasionally need to do this during the race. Some finish lines are miles away from the actual marina, and rather than burning precious fuel motoring in one by one, the boats will tow each other in a kind of slow-motion nautical conga line.
Us towing Qingdao for practice