Some more diary excerpts

Just to get the feeling:

May 6
We set out with a little wind on our bow and a low cieling. We followed a pod of whales in the distance until a giant humback surfaced 1-2 boatlengths off our starboard beam. Snow had almost reached the sea and with this scarry background we sailed as best we could tacking up the Magellan (our 3rd day). The wind died completely and we had a current against us so we motored for a few hours (in this area of the world you have to take every opportunity to move forward because prevailing winds are very strong and dead against you...) Soon after though, we were able to continue sailing. No close calls this time (the day before we tacked about 1-2 boatlengths from a rock islet evading narrowly a huge disaster) but I went up on deck to un hook the genoa sheet fromt he forestay while tacking and at the moment I got up there it unhooked itself, slapping me in the face-head knocking my balaclava, which was perched on my head, into the Magellan... goodbye!
At around 3 or 4 o clock, the wind picked up such that the boat was heeling alot especially in the gusts which were over 25 knots and the chop got short and steep. Down under it was very difficult to walk with only one reef in the main sail and a full genoa. I got thrown in a gust - my hand grabbed the wooden rail of the bookshelf and my face in the same moment struck the back of my hand. If not for the hand I would have lost teeth for sure. In any case the taste of blood lingered in my mouth for a few minutes...
The wind having reached in excess of 25kts we had to reduce sail, so I went up to put a reef in the main and as I stepped out fromt he dodger (the sort of wind and water sheild int he cockpit) I got swamped and completely drenched by a wave that washed over the boat at that moment! I got up to the mast and started working, clutching something (the winch handle or the mast) at all times so as not to be launched into the salty sea! The wind, in its gusts, whistled int he rigging and waves crashed over the deck, washing spray into my face... We left Bob behind this day (Bob was a Australian singlehander who we spent a few nights with in an anchorage waiting for good weather - we would later meet him for another night).

May 7

...The prognostic was for 10 to 15 knots all night so we thought we could almost make the beginning of the Smyth Canal by the next evening, some 60miles in a straight line. As we got ready to go the weather was still very bad... williwaws (cold air that is pushed up over a mountain and plummets down in jets at extremely high speeds) were making our dinghy fly around like a kite, literally, outside so Mario and I went out to tie it back on the deck of the boat. A gust almost flung it, and us into the water but we held on. We managed to get it on deck but suddenly a williwaw ripped through the cove at probably 70-80kts. The Persimmon, swinging at anchor heeled over, with no sail up, at probably almost 30 degrees, making a mess of the food we were preparing below. Water sliced and lined having been thrown by the wind in black and white, deafening, screaming in my ears and in the rigging. Mario and I on opposite sides of the boat ducked, flattening ourselves down against the dinghy. The wind went up my nose, it blew so hard I could not think and I was almost lifted off my feet and off the dinghy on which I lay. When it passed we looked to leeward in the fading light to see a swirling tornado-like spectre white and dynamic, twist its way down the bay, spray given form...
We set out at 22:30. Ian and Katya were on watch from 11 to 2am so Mario and I tried to get some shuteye. My shoulder (which I injured the day before and am still recovering from - this was the first and worst day) was so bad that I could not sleep. I could not find any position that was not excruciating. After 2 hours I came out and sat there at the table, forced to explain to Ian and Katya what was up (i don´t like to complain and had just kept my mouth shut). I took an anti inflammatory (very uncharacteristic for me) which did nothing but when my watch came at 2am the wind started to pick up. I couldn´t do anything with my left arm and apart from the massive seizing pain that it gave me at rest, supporting any weight with it was even more excruciating. Instead they made me go to bed but I was unable to sleep because of my arm and with the rising wind, up to 30kts and over 2meter seas I was being thrown around like a ragdoll in my bunk. I came out again at 530am to violent pitching and a defeated feeling in the air. Current against us, wind at 30kts, gusting 40kts on our nose, an unenterable cove (in the dark) zero progress and three hours until daylight meant we had only one option: we had turned around and were headed, no sails, no motor, downwind and with the current doing 7kts. I was nauseous with pain (the worst I have felt in my memory) and the pitching was making me seasick. I was sent to bed again at 6am and at about 7am I somehow managed about 2 hours of sleep waking up at 9 to coffee and a boat our home, secure in the same cove we left ten hours before. Distance travelled: 28miles Net distance covered: 0 miles. Morale: shit. Pain: unbearable.