Thoughts from the edge

I’ve always wanted to know what the middle of nowhere looked like; when we got there, it looked the same as somewhere did yesterday. I thought I might discover some inner peace or strength I didn’t know I had. But with conditions being near perfect, and Jeanna, Molly and Jessie to share it with, who could ask for more? Any profound life experience will just have to wait for later. For now, I am just excited to make a landfall in the South Pacific. I can’t wait to see the expression on Molly and Jessie’s face each time they see something new for the very first time.

In case you were wondering, our great big world out here is really quite small. From where I sit in the cockpit, my eye is about 6 feet off the water. That puts the horizon about 3 ½ miles away. So, our world is about 7 miles from edge to edge. It looks like in about half an hour you could sail off the edge. Jeanna seems a bit closer to the edge than the rest of us; maybe her dreads are starting to tighten up.

Our first big “crossing” has been interesting so far. No big surprises, although we are using more of everything than I thought except food, fuel and battery power being the most limited in supply. We are down to two banks of four each batteries. I think number three bank has one battery with a dead cell. I will locate the offending battery and cut it out of the herd when we arrive in the Marquesas. To get a perspective on energy consumption, one needs to know how it is being used. We could be using a lot less, but for the hot showers, frozen food, fresh water, and autopilot, not to mention the computer and satellite system used to get this to you. We are just barely keeping up with both the comfort group, and the necessities for the crossing. It is taking three hours of engine running time per day to keep the batteries charged. We run the engine twice a day, to make water, freeze down the holding plates in the refrigeration system, and charge batteries.

Bottom line: we are not suffering much. Oh, we are getting a little tired, the sunsets haven’t been as red as in the brochure, and Dave looked at me funny yesterday. But all in all, I think we will get to know ourselves a little better as we roll along.

The trip started out a little tense – no wind. Should we go find it? Should we wait for it? All the weather charts said it was south of us, but light. We took off with a full load of fuel, some current behind us, and great expectation of the perfect crossing. We motored, we motored-sailed, we tried flying the spinnaker. As each hour went by, the tension increased. We really needed to find the wind. When we were half way through our fuel, we still had not found what we needed. Finally, on the third day (Happy Easter!) wind arrived, although not exactly the direction we wanted, and the swell was from the south. Very uncomfortable, but we had wind and were not complaining. At first we were a little conservative with the sail combination. The 120% jib and a double-reefed main on a close reach seemed just fine. We were doing about 8 knots over the bottom. We eased off to a beam reach with about 15 knots of wind, and still seemed fine.

After two days the wind lightened to 8 to 10 knots and came farther aft. We put the asymmetrical spinnaker up about noon, and had a fairly bumpy sail that day, still a southerly swell. The wind went a little ahead of the beam that evening, so we took the spinnaker down for the night, and continued on through the night with the bumpy seas. The next morning the wind was backing more, so we put the spinnaker up in 10 to 12 knots of breeze. All day long the ride continued to improve. The southerly swell had started to be overcome by the ESE trade winds we were expecting. That evening, we talked about taking the spinnaker down for the night, but we were still moving along nicely, and looking at the knot meter, did not want to slow down. (We have all this nice computer gear that tells us down to the second how much time to go to our destination – TTG.) The hours-to-go meter was bouncing around from 500 to 700 hrs to go. Well, the spinnaker stayed up all night. The ride kept improving thru the next day, with the wind steady at 10 to 15 knots. The time to go came down to 400 to 500. The next night, no one even mentioned taking down the spinnaker for the night. That big white spinnaker with the red shoes on it has been up for 7 days now on the same jibe, pole aft, sailing as deep downwind as we can, to try and make the rhumb line to Hiva-Oa. Everyone is focused on making the boat go as fast as we can. Our best day, (24 hr run) so far has been 215 nautical miles. We have been averaging 7.6 knots for the last 2350 miles – not bad for the light air we have had.

We have had some sort of flu bug on board. First I went down for about 48 hrs, then Jeanna, now Dave. All have suffered quietly, and missed only one night watch each, and got back on schedule after the second day. Molly and Jessie have not shown any signs of a problem yet. We hope it will be over with Dave, and we will feel great for our landfall next Wednesday.

Nine days with the spinnaker up, wind still too far aft to sail rhumb line. Jeanna and Dave spent the day talking about food, what they would eat when we arrive, and how much. Molly and Jessie seem to be taking this long leg well, devouring books and standing day watches. Jessie told me to keep an eye on Dave and Mom, as they were acting silly.

Last night I had a dream. For dinner there were flying fish, perfectly arranged on a beautiful blue plate, with roe, two peas and a baby carrot. Must be the French influence oozing from the boat. We will have to have that analyzed later.

We have been watching the weather, hoping the wind will shift to the northeast as predicted, but the wind has held steady out of the east. It looks like our track will add about 100 miles to our trip. Maybe I shouldn’t speak too soon, but we have been sailing with the hatches open. The weather is getting cooler (in the 80s) and the humidity is going down. The boat is comfortable and very dry on deck.

Today was a big day. We jibed! For the last 4 days we have been agonizing over the jibe angles, not wanting to sail a single mile farther than we have to. Jeanna and Dave are afraid there won’t be any ice cream left when we get to Hiva Oa. With the boat now pointed at our destination, and moving along at 9.5 knots over the ground, the excitement level jumped up a notch. If the wind holds, we will arrive in two days, a day sooner than we originally guessed. Plans are being made for laundry, long showers, dinner out, getting the garbage off the boat, washing the boat inside and out, and sleeping without the nets holding us in place.

The boat: the boat has been performing above my expectations. After almost 6,000 miles of downwind work, I have a pretty good idea of what the boat and crew likes in the way of wind angle and sail combination, in a wide range of sea conditions. Though mostly in winds fewer than 20 knots true, the boat is very fast, even with a big load of cruising gear. When trimming out the boat I trim for speed, crew comfort, wear and tear on the gear and sails, and minimum power consumption on the auto pilot.

In higher winds the boat need very little sail, off the breeze a small 115% jib and a double reef in the main will produce an easy 10 knots of boat speed and a very straight track. We have gone 7,500 miles so far, and the auto pilot has been driving 99 % of that. We’ve not been knocked down or had an accidental jibe.

Day 15: after 9 days with the spinnaker up, the wind got a little above our comfort level. Just after 9:00 pm we took the spinnaker down – in the dark. The wind had gone up to 20 to 25 knots, and the boat was surfing at 14 knots – just a little too fast considering the long night ahead.

In this part of the ocean, we have not seen much in the way of sea life – very few birds, only two groups of dolphins, and three large unidentified mammals of some sort. There are thousands of flying fish and squid, but we haven’t seen bait fish on the surface or any large predatory fish activity. Bottom line: no fresh fish so far. We are hoping to catch something as we get closer to the islands, where the water goes from 14,000 feet to about 1,000 feet.

Day 16: one more day to go. This morning everyone is quiet and sleeping in. I think we are all very tired. Yesterday’s excitement of two days to go just wore us out. One more night of watches and we should see the islands when the sun comes up tomorrow. About 9:00 a.m. we poled out the 115% jib and headed straight down wind. The ride is awful; rolling side to side with everything that isn’t tied down making some sort of clunking, banging, scraping, squeaking, or rattling noise. The crew is not happy.

Well, after seeing nowhere, I am ready to be somewhere else. We can see it on the charts. We are reading about it in the travel books. We can’t wait to say “land ho”. The South Pacific starts the second part of our trip, the part I have been dreaming about for a long time. It is being made even more special being able to share it with Jeanna, Molly, and Jessie.

Jim

RUBY SLIPPERS

LOCATION: 1500 MILES FROM ANY POINT OF LAND

We passed the halfway mark last night on our journey to the Marquesas. We have about 1500 miles to go. We have been “on the road” for 8 days now (Monday) and have been going 170-200 miles a day. The first 2 days, there was no wind at all, and we were getting worried. We only have fuel for 1200 miles of this 3,000 miles trip, and much of it was used in the first 2 days. The wind finally kicked in, and has been a steady 15-20 since. If it keeps up, we might make it in by next Wednesday or so.The motion of the boat has been pretty erratic. The waves kick it around, so that the ride is not as smooth as we would like. Mostly, we stay out in the cockpit, unless we really have to be below. Cooking has been challenging, but we have managed to have some pretty decent meals. We have been eating a lot of rice, cabbage, sunflower seeds and hard-boiled eggs. I’ve been missing bread, chocolate, Pepsi and apples.

Home school is simply not happening on this trip. The motion is too boisterous, and no one can concentrate very well. We have been doing a lot of reading, and playing road games: “I am going on a trip, and in my suitcase I have…. an aardvark, a balloon, a cyclops…”, and other brain-stretching games. Any suggestions?

I would like to report that the ocean is simply teeming with life, but I can’t. The only thing we see on a regular basis is flying fish. They look like big dragonflies, or very small birds, and leap out of the water in one accord – about 50 at a time, and fly through the air to some pre-determined destination. They can make u-turns in mid-air, and fly a long way. One of them hit the mainsail and dropped back in the water. I’m sure he never knew what hit him. We have found a few on deck, but have not been desperate enough to try to eat them.

There won’t be any new pictures in the media gallery for a while. We are sending this update via e-mail through a friend in Seattle, and can’t send pictures. If we could, all you would see is blue sky, blue water, and 5 slightly crazed people who have been looking at only each other for too many days in a row…

Our e-mail is working well out here in the middle of nowhere, so drop us a note and tell us all the things you have had for dinner!

The day before a long passage is always a little tense.

There is so much to do and think about. What if I don’t buy enough food? What if we haven’t really checked every weak spot on the boat, and something breaks at sea? What if we don’t have enough books/popcorn/propane/fill in the blank to make it all the way to French Polynesia?

We have been provisioning all day today; many trips by water taxi back and forth to town. Yesterday we bought about 15 pounds of fresh fish and vacuum-packed it for our freezer. Today we bought fresh fruits and vegetables, and Jim rigged up hammocks and bins all over the boat in which to put it. We bought a big bunch of bright green bananas which are hanging off the back of the boat, and will ripen in unison in about a week. We still need to pick up the laundry, check out of the country through Immigration, find cabbage and coconuts, get 10 dozen eggs, and update our website. I know people will start looking at me about dinner time as if to say, “Well, what’s for dinner?” and I will be clueless.

We figure this next leg will be about 25 days of nothing but ocean. It will be our longest passage yet. We are praying for good trade winds, since we only have enough fuel for about 10 days. Our friend Dave is on board, which will help a lot. He is an experienced sailor, a great cook, and loves to play games. Something for everyone!

The Galapagos Islands have been an amazing experience. Some say their whole lives have been changed by visiting these islands. I wouldn’t go that far, but certainly life-enhancing. I have never really believed that blue-footed Boobies had bright blue feet, but now I can attest to that fact – their feet look like Tupperware lids, or those floppy kitchen drain plugs. The male has the brightest feet; during mating season, he does a little dance for the female, showing his feet off as if to say, “Look at these beautiful feet! They are a gift to you. Do you like them? See how mine are the bluest?”

In contrast, the male Frigate bird during mating season, displays this huge red air pouch on his chest. When a female flies over him, he sits on a low branch and blows air into his pouch and waves his wings and screams at her. “Hey Baby! Look at this cool pouch! Aren’t I gorgeous? Come on down!” Often two or three males will all sit on the same branch and wave their wings and blow up their pouches and try to knock each other off the branch. I find it all a little too junior high, and prefer the gentle dance of the Booby.

We have seen a lot of marine and land iguanas. We have been told there is also a hybrid iguana. They mated a marine one with a land one, and got kind of a “mule”. It doesn’t live a long time, and cannot reproduce, and prefers land over water. We have seen huge tortoises – including the famous Lonesome George – he is the last one of his species, and is about 150 years old. When he dies, there goes that species.

We went scuba diving and saw white-tipped sharks, turtles, eagle rays and lots of fish. The water here is a lot colder than in Central America, due to the Humboldt Current that runs through these islands. That current brings all the food that feeds these rare animals, and is why the Galapagos is such a center for rare species of birds and mammals.

We went snorkeling and got to swim with a whole bunch of sea lions. There were babies and mammas, and a huge male was patrolling the area, barking out instructions about how close we could come to his harem. The babies would swim just under us and turn in circles, and invite us to do the same. They would swim right for our faces, and just before bashing into us, would swerve sharply and flip their little tails.

I longed to touch one of the dry sea lions, but there is a strict no-touch rule here. The whole eco-system is so fragile here, they are very careful to protect each plant and animal. Fortunately, when we got back to town, there was a sea lion “walking” down an alley by our favorite restaurant, and he settled down on his belly and let me pet him for a long time. So very soft! Sea lions, by the way, have actual ears sticking out of their heads and very strong front fins so they can walk on land. That is how they differ from seals. School’s out…

We have been working on getting a cruising permit while we are here, to allow us to anchor at some of the other Galapagos Islands. If it works, we will stop at Isla Isabella tomorrow for one more day of exploring before our long trek. On that island, there are hundreds of penguins and flamingos.

I was standing in a very long line at the bank the other day; it must have been payday or something because the line was at least 2 hours long. All of a sudden, the guard pulled me out of that line and stood me in the very short line that was reserved for the aged and infirmed. I didn’t know enough Spanish to ask why he chose me, but I figured it was a). He wanted to be kind to a tourist, b). He liked my dreadlocks or c) He actually thought I was aged or infirmed. I choose to believe option A, and appreciated getting my business done in a short amount of time.

There should be new pics in the Media Gallery – we hope spring has finally come to the Northwest!

The Galapagos are a real surprise…

We expected to arrive at a lava-rocked, desolate set of islands in the middle of nowhere – instead we are anchored in Academy Bay, right in the heart of a bustling city! There are restaurants, internet cafes, interesting tourist shops, and people everywhere! All of the goods here come from Quito, Ecuador, and the bay is full of barges unloading boxes of food and equipment onto the docks.

The only way to get from our boat to land is by water taxi, at a reasonable 50 cents per person. The US dollar is the currency here – it is quite exciting to know what coin 50 cents actually is!

It was a 700-mile sail from Golfito, Costa Rica to here. We had a nice stop in the Cocos Islands, about 300 miles out. The diving was beautiful there – both Molly and Jessie went scuba diving with Jim and saw eagle rays, sharks and lots of big fish. Cocos Island is a National Park, and is protected for a circumference of 12 miles around the island. There is supposed to be no fishing at all within that boundary, but the rangers on the island have a barn full of miles and miles of fishing nets, hooks, and floats that they have confiscated in the park area. There is a very active volunteer program on this small island. Students and would-be park rangers wait for up to a year to help here on Cocos Island. The eco-system is very fragile here, and they are trying desperately to save the island. It is over- run with wild boars and goats that were brought here many years ago by Germans who thought they might want to colonize Cocos. They soon found out that it was too remote and hard to manage, so they left, but the pigs stayed.

 We had a “crossing the Equator” party on Monday morning on our way here. Everyone swam across the invisible line and received little gifts. The ocean was as flat as a windowpane. In fact, it looked like it had been polished with Windex, and you could see your reflection in it. Is this the same ocean that slapped me around like a redheaded stepchild just 24 hours earlier?

We are busy trying to organize a few tours while we are at the Galapagos, and are going to go scuba diving on a dive boat. Our friend Dave Dow from Hawaii will be joining us here for the long trip to the Marquesas; 3600 miles of nothing but ocean! It is cooler here than in Central America; the Humboldt current runs through this area and keeps the water about 10 degrees cooler that we have been seeing. The sky is kindergarten blue, and the people are helpful and friendly.

 At an outdoor restaurant yesterday, a seal walked up from the bay, past the customers and into the kitchen. He must have been a “regular”, because the cook just tossed him some food and kept on cooking. I’ve never seen that in Seattle…

We will try to post another update before we leave these enchanting islands – we can’t wait to see tortoises, big iguanas, penguins and blue-footed boobies!