There’s something profound about the bonds formed through true misery.

Not the “misery” of getting through a challenging spin class, or the stress of meeting the deadlines of a demanding professor. Before joining this race I had not realized the inconsequence of my daily misgivings – how truly privileged I was to complain about my occasional “miserable” experiences.  

Gale force conditions will change a mindset. Knowing, not just hypothetically speaking, that your life is in real danger at every moment puts a lot into perspective. Hitting 60+ knots of wind, 17-foot waves, rain so thick you can’t see the bow, and water hitting with such strength that it sweeps off your feet and washes you into the guard netting of the boat – it just might actually kill you.

 My introduction to offshore ocean racing was, in the kindest of terms, a baptism of fire. Sailing from Portsmouth, UK to Puerto Sherry, Spain by way of the Bay of Biscay proved to be much more intense than I had anticipated. They say the strongest bonds are formed through trauma, well if that’s true: my team and I are the best of friends after only one week.

It’s hard to explain how a group of complete strangers can go from “so where are you from?” to sobbing in their arms in a span of 36-hours. From feeling out whether you’ll get along, to trusting them implicitly after placing my life in their hands.

The rush of adrenaline setting your blood on fire after being forced off your feet by a 4m wave crashing over the boat – I couldn’t help but laugh wildly into the sheets of rain. I’m not sure I’ve ever, in my entire life, felt more alive.

It’s Hell. It’s Euphoria. It’s extreme highs and lows and tears of joy and sobbing that you can’t do this and delirious giggle fits and bone-tired pain peppered with deep purple bruises and grown men crying and hugging that we made it through to the end. And knowing you’re about to do it all over again – for weeks.

Hopefully, the worst of the forecast is behind us, and the next four weeks of crossing the Atlantic Ocean will be champagne downwind sailing. But delusions aside, I know we’ll face increasingly blazing temperatures and dying winds towards the Equator and experience a different kind of unpleasant bonding experience fragranced with Yankee Candle’s newest scent: no showers and four-week-old-socks.

It’s a surreal feeling, to predict and expect hardship and still remain exhilarated by the lifestyle. How lucky am I to experience something so unique, and to walk away with a renewed appreciation for life’s small joys. I can’t wait to see what the next chapter brings.

Wish me fair winds and following seas,

Abigail Reagan