James Craig - Sydney to Hobart

´Crack it on´ Hitchman doesn´t wait for a following breeze.  One 0´Clock
in the morning and the wind backs from N to NNW; crack on the fore & main
topmast and mizzen staysails. 0130 hrs, NW; crack on the inner jib. 0230
WNW; crack on lower & upper topsails while a quiet shanty is sung in the
dead of night and halyards creak. "Get a crack on!" says the shadow on the
quarterdeck, distinguished by a white naval cap glowing beneath the moon.
"Crack it on!"
The following watch inherits a mission: to crack on more sail! The wind
backs further to W by S and the spanker is set, followed by the fores´l, the
mains´l, and at first light the fore topgallant. (Some would argue it should
have been the main t´gallant.)
At last, this rattle-weary vessel becomes a ship again, gliding effortlessly
across the pond, and the first golden glint of morning sun presents Mother
Ocean a sight worthy of Her Majesty.  First light also presents our first
sight of Mother Earth as Victoria rises on the port bow. Even Rusty the Dog
has a kick in his step, and celebrates with a little brown parcel for the
Afterguard.
The mutton birds are all around, some flying, others riding the ocean wave.
Also, a couple of albatross. There used to be hundreds, but long-line
fishing has killed all but a few of those magnificent birds.
The ship glides along at six-and-a-half knots, and at this rate we´ll be in
Sydney sooner than we´d like. The cure is a call into Eden, so a berth is
secured and the ship ties up alongside in Snug Cove. A perfect excuse to
"Crack open a beer", says Mr. Hitchman.