Up Mast (Black) Friday Day 10

Laying on the bow under neath the stars before my watch (turn to navigate, steer, watch for vessel traffic and storms).  I could feel the extra wind that the rain cloud next to us was creating.  There was some very mild bio luminescence in the waves of the bow wake that Altair was pushing.  I could not see on this night the underwater creatures that light up bright green/yellow such as squid.  I was laying on my back looking up at the stars when i heard a flying fish came slapping onto the deck near me.  Sometimes these fish jump onto the boat during the day, but it seems most of them come flying onto the deck in the night.  This misplaced fish began flipping and flopping around on the deck and I could smell that distinct fishy smell.  I reached down to grabbing her quivering body and tossed her back into the sea. 
Captain Clint went up to the top of the mast today to add a backup halyard to our chaffing spinnaker halyard.  I took some photos of him dressed to battle the swaying mast as we sail on the open ocean.

Using triangles, try to imagine how far the top of the mast swings back and forth 113' off the water when Altair rolls just a foot or two to Port or Starboard.  For protection against impact and abrasion, our fearless leader was sporting foul weather boots, knee pads, a climbing harness, deck vest harness, long sleeve shirt, paragliding helmet with GoPro, VHF radio for communication with the deck and the pilot house, and a knife to finish off the gear.  The largest danger facing Clint on the way up were the sections of mast without much to grasp with hands.  If he were to loose contact with the mast and swing to weather away from the mast the slapping return to that mast would at best hurt a lot or possibly cause injury or unconsciousness.

One incident just before Boog (Captain Clint's cool nickname) was to get hoisted gave the deck team cause for concern about the safety of the operation.The helmsman inadvertently pushed a button enabling the jog stick steering feature.  Looking through the windshield of the pilothouse from my position standing next to the mast I could see the growing alarm and call to action inside there.  In immediate danger of a dangerous crash jibe (unplanned downwind turn) the spinnaker had wrapped itself around the head stay and turned into an hourglass shape.  Clint by now was at the helm and attempting to steer the sail back into normal flying conditions.  Helm adjustment itself was not enough to get the sail unstuck; Aaron came out and helped me pull enough of the sail loose to get the
wind into it to fly the rest of the twist free.  In the process of grabbing the line and pulling with all my strength I parted the healing cut on my middle finger from the hatch smash 4 days before.  It was still covered but i could feel that the skin gap had re-opened.  Now sailing normally again, this recovery gave Clint one more thing to fear for the two minutes while Marc and I hoisted his body over 100 feet above the rolling and pitching deck.

Clint made it up and down safely and with the help of myself and Marc on deck managed to reeve another halyard down through the mast and connect it to the spinnaker for added security.  In essence Marc and I pulled a tag line already in the mast that Clint had then tied the end of the new halyard to.  There was more to it than that but I don't feel like explaining it because I don't think it adds much to the story or that you would care to read it all:)