level 4 training: mock race and real lessons

We kicked off Level 4 training with a small but symbolic milestone: trading in our faded red Clipper foulies for our official yellow Musto gear - the “banana suits” as I call them. They felt powerful, like a graduation robe with grit. After months of training, we were finally in kit that signaled, You’re almost there.

This was the first Level 4 course offered for the 25-26 race, held just days before crew allocation. The docks in Gosport buzzed with nervous energy as we queued up with familiar faces, many destined to be future teammates. We twisted through stairwells, had our crew portraits snapped, and finally got our hands on those bright yellow suits. Then it was down to the boat to meet our skipper, Phil, and first mate, Faith - the leadership team I’ll be sailing with for the full circumnavigation.

Unlike previous training levels, Level 4 is designed to replicate race conditions as closely as possible. From day one, we were on a tight schedule, participating in a mock parade of sail as all the boats departed the marina in formation. We set out across the English Channel, heading for France, and started ticking off the required skills and drills.

Almost immediately, the sea state turned sloppy, and seasickness swept through the crew. I spent the better part of that first evening vomiting over the stern quarter, barely able to sit upright. On the agenda for the week was learning our storm sails so after getting those up, we ran them through the night to keep things manageable – less speed, more motion. It's counterintuitive, but slower boats in confused seas feel worse.

Though I was sidelined early, I stayed tuned into the action from my bunk. Storm sail evolutions, fire hose training, watch changes - all happening around me as I lay curled up in my foulies, too spent to peel them off. Skipper Phil eventually pulled me aside for a direct but kind reminder: I needed to rally or risk repeating the entire week. Fair enough.

Eventually, the fog of seasickness lifted. We continued with man overboard drills (including nighttime recoveries), anchoring practice, towing exercises, and dozens of little evolutions that feel like second nature now but once seemed impossibly complex.

The final two days were the highlight of the week: mock race days. We opted to sail overnight rather than anchor leading to up race start and chased sunrise as we approached the starting line. The day kicked off with a Le Mans start, then a standard line start and ~24-hour course that took us along the UK coast, southeast toward France, and back to the Isle of Wight. The conditions varied wildly, and we pushed the boat - max heel, everything flying, everyone on deck.

We made mistakes and broke just about everything we could. We lost halyards up the mast, wrapped a spinnaker, ripped a sail (more on that in another post), and messed up winches by grinding with safety turns on. But we kept going. Down below, the boat felt like a tilted jungle gym - navigating through it became a full-body workout and kind of a thrill.

My favorite moment? Racing under the stars. We took turns at the helm, leaned back to stargaze during between sail trim adjustments, and soaked in the calm intensity of it all. We didn't win, but by the final downwind leg, we were blasting tunes in the cockpit, trimming the kite in t-shirts after losing the wind, and laughing our way through the light-air drift to the finish.

Of course, the week wasn’t without its challenges. Uncommunicated absences during night watch, hoarded snacks, and please-for-the-love-of-god-sit-down toilet reminders brought some low points. But that’s part of the reality: every crew is a new mix of personalities, habits, and pressure points. With a all of Qingdao’s ambassadors on board and a mix of leggers with a couple circumnavigators, this exact crew combo won’t sail together again. And that’s kind of the beauty of it.

We wrapped up the week with a celebratory Indian dinner followed by a round of drinks at the local pub, followed the next morning by a deep clean (my third time leading one) and skipper feedback. Finally, we parted ways with Level 4 in the rearview – training complete, eyes forward toward race start.