Ocean Racing: Pip Hare

VENDÉE GLOBE RACE BY PIP HARE

Pip Hare Ocean Racing

When a Southern Ocean storm takes you in its grip and pushes you and your boat to the limit – it’s the most amazing feeling in the world. Terrifying. Exhausting. Exhilarating.

But sitting here now, just over a year since I started the Vendée Globe, it’s hard to remember exactly what it was like. The noise of the wind, the feel of the boat, the slam of the hull as you’re launched off waves. And I miss it – that freedom to make my own decisions, the single goal of getting to the finish line and the sheer joy of being at sea where I belong. I spent 30 years getting to that moment – and I’m determined to spend the next 3 years getting back. But this time I’ll be in a competitive boat, with a professional team behind me and I’ll be battling with the front of the fleet.

I’d dreamed of competing in the Vendée Globe – the thought of sailing non-stop, round the world alone and against some of the best sailors in the world really captured my imagination. And the race was everything I’d hoped it would be – and more.

Just getting to the start line took an epic effort. I took a risk with a bank loan, an old boat and a team of friends and family. But we made it and I crossed the line in the front half of the fleet and in beautiful sunshine.

The first week was no gentle introduction though. Within days I had to do what I’d dreaded – climb the mast. Ascending the mast at sea is never a fun thing to do. To do it on your own, up a mast that’s 30 metres high is really not fun. But I did it and the achievement gave me a boost – here I was in the Vendée Globe race, doing what Vendée Globe racers do – fixing problems and taking on challenges.

I was out of the Northern Atlantic and speeding south when I heard the news that Kevin Escoffier had had to abandon his sinking boat after it snapped in half. The few hours waiting for news of his rescue felt interminable and it was a moment that really brought home the realities of this race – and the camaraderie as competitors stopped their own race to go to his aid.

Then it was the Southern Ocean. The stuff of sailing legend and somewhere I’d never been. It’s strange how quickly you adjust to a new normal – after riding the first low pressure for as long possible, I soon got into the rhythm of making the most of the storms and making repairs between weather systems. My old boat was in her element and I made ground on more modern boats. On Christmas Day I had the best present I could have wished for – the most exhilarating day of sailing in my life. This was what I had trained so hard for.

Pip Hare Ocean Racing

I approached Cape Horn in a better position then I’d ever imagined possible – and I knew I’d need the lead I’d gained on those behind for the drag race up the Atlantic to the finish where Medallia’s reaching speed couldn’t match that of more modern foiling boats.

But just before reaching that iconic milestone, disaster struck. On a routine inspection, I discovered a crack in the starboard rudder stock that could end my race. I had to do the one thing I didn’t want to – change the rudder at sea. Only one other skipper had done something similar on the Vendée before – and they’d had to anchor in the shelter of land. I didn’t want to sacrifice all my hard work and the lead I had built, so I took the opportunity of a lull in the weather to make the swap. I’d practiced the manoeuvre in the shelter of a marina, but the reality of doing it alone, at sea, as Medallia rolled beneath me was daunting.

My worst fear was that I dropped the new rudder overboard, losing it – and my chance to re-join the race – forever. So, I made sure everything was tied on – and checked my knots several times before I started the laborious process of lifting the old rudder out and replacing it with the new one. It was such a hard thing to do – it’s hard to explain the physical and mental effort it took. And it was the one thing that I wasn’t sure I could complete – everything else, every repair, problem or issue that arose, I was confident I could sort out. But I did it! The relief was immense. When I got back up to speed I had lost places, but I was still in the race.

So, when I did eventually round the Horn it was with a mix of joy, disappointment and exhaustion. And in hindsight I should have given myself more time to rest and recover after such an epic effort. Because then came the toughest two weeks of my Vendée race.

What should have been an easy ride up the East coast of South America saw me at my lowest ebb. I was exhausted, suffering from a reaction to a jellyfish sting and still thousands of miles from home.

Pip Hare Ocean Racing

Like most other competitors, I’d lost weight and muscle mass – it’s hard to get enough calories down to maintain the muscle and weight you start with. My body felt like it was rebelling and what I’d considered the home leg was still a very big distance to cover from the southern tip of South America all the way back to France.

I’m not quite sure how I made it to the Bay of Biscay, but suddenly I was approaching the finish line in the middle of the night and this swarm of lights surrounded me. It was the support boats of the race officials and my team and, after I’d been alone at sea for nearly 3 months, it was an awesome sight. I hadn’t slept for 48 hours, but the adrenaline of crossing the line, seeing my team and stepping onto dry land carried me through.

I lit flares as I sailed back into Les Sables d’Olonne and was greeted by a gaggle of journalists and press photographers. Finally, I had joined the elite group of Vendée Globe finishers and it felt amazing.

But that’s not the end of this story. I’m not done with the Vendée Globe yet. I’m building my campaign for 2024 – with a new boat and professional team. The pace at which my team and I have worked through 2021 has been ferocious. Together we have grown both the sailing team and my business from my ‘one woman band’ to a crew of thirteen full and part time staff running a foiling IMOCA campaign.

My job now is to focus on being the best sailor I can, as well as representing the team in an official capacity. Though I will still be involved in business decisions and have an overview of the running of the team, I can now prioritise my own development. I don’t have to work all day and all night to cover all bases.

I am both excited and terrified of this incredible opportunity. In my last Vendée Globe race, I managed a great result as an underdog. I was always the bottom of the pile. Now I have the chance to push myself harder and further, to really develop as a sailor and hand on heart I am more afraid of failure now than I was then because I have no excuses and nowhere to hide.

But one thing has not changed and that is my determination and my drive. I’m training hard, looking for sponsors and making sure I’m ready to take on the best when that starting gun goes off at Les Sables d’Olonne in just under 3 years’ time.

If you want to sponsor Pip, contact hello@piphareoceanracing.com.