Day 28 – State of fear, Rudder out

28 Mar, 07 – 21.30    
18.0084N,31.2212W

24 hr progress: 34.8 Nautical Miles
My worst night so far. The waves have been merciless all night, breaking against the stern.
As I sleep in the hatch, my head is right up against the other side of the fiberglass back that holds the rudder. Just 2 inches of fiberglass and plywood between me and the waves. The sound is deafening each time a wave hits. First there is an eerie silence and a drop in activity. No waves to be heard as the Atlantic silently re-gathers its troops for the next assault. It's dark outside, so there is no indication of where the wave is, unless the foam can be seen in the moonlight. Within a few minutes there is the sound of foam and white water as the crest of the wave starts to break and tons of water come tumbling down towards the stern. 2 seconds later, it hits the stern with a resounding crash. Being inside the hatch is like being inside a guitar. With no escape.
As the wave passes under the boat, it lifts the boat up about 6 feet before there is another crash as the stern drops back into the water, shaking the whole boat. In the meanwhile, the tiller lines from the stern are creaking and rubbing against the side as they start to chaff under the stress. I have wedged them tight with whatever I could get hold of. At this moment, there is a tin of peas and a bottle of deodorant on the port side. On the starboard side, there is another tin of peas (I never liked peas anyway), a bottle of mouthwash and an empty can of peaches.
Around 4.00 am the vibrations got significantly worse. They come and go in fits and starts. They stop for about 20 minutes after I have adjusted the tiller lines start shortly after. It's pitch dark. I struggle to squeeze myself out of the rear hatch, which is too small for me to maneuver. Finally get both my hands free and leaning out of the hatch. Here I am in the dark, hanging out of the rear hatch with a torch, hoping it's just a large fish under the boat that is causing all the problems, while looking for any cracks in the stern.
It's impossible to continue the journey living in fear of the rudder, so I finally decide to take the rudder out. Easier said than done. One of the challenges of sailing alone is that everything takes twice as long as you try and figure out how to hold things in place and the order of activity to do a task.
As there is no-one around to hold the rudder, I first tie the top of the rudder securely to the stern. Next, tie another line around the rudder and throw the rest of the coil over the top hatch so that it lands in the boat. Close the hatch in case a wave breaks thru and go back to the front of the boat. Secure the second line (tied to the rudder). Release the tiller lines from the cleats.
Good. Now the rudder is secured to the boat and will not be lost if it floats away. Go back into the cabin and squeeze out of the rear hatch. Take the pair of pliers. Dismantle the foot steering. Dammit, It's rusted tight with sea water. Put some WD40. Loosen it trying not to drop the parts into the sea below. Remove the line attaching the rudder to the foot steering. Next remove the top pin of the rudder. Good. Pull the tiller lines and secure them around the rudder. Undo the first line that secures the rudder to the stern. Good. Now there is only one line securing the rudder to the boat. Wait for the boat to drop into a trough. Watch out for a breaking wave. Watch the hands. Quickly lift the rudder off the pins. Good. Set the rudder to float in the water, making sure it is tied to the boat. Good. Close the rear hatch. Back out of the cabin and onto the deck. Pull the rudder in using the second line.
After 3 hrs the rudder is finally out!
B

Damaged rudder on deck