Advantages over Slocum - Day 18

The ARC rally has just left the Marquesas en route to Tahiti. These sailors are part of an organized, 'guided' cirmcumnavigation that they will complete in less than a year and a half. This got me thinking about all the people like us who are out here cruising on small boats. Sailing boats across oceans used to be reserved for professionals and the occasional publicity or thrill seeking adventurer. This is clearly not the case any more. What has changed to allow an average couple to sail a small boat across the Pacific or around the world?

When Joshua Slocum became the first person to sail alone around the world at the end of the 19th century, he did so using tools and techniques that were hundreds, if not thousands of years old. He navigated via sextant and clock, used kerosene to light the interior and for running lights, and sailed in a boat that was built by hand of wood and iron. The radio had yet to be invented, let alone, navigation assisting satellites. He carried water and salted food in barrels and jugs. His sails were made of cotton canvas (or possibly flax) and needed constant care.

Here is a short list of technological changes that have made what we are doing feasible:

* Beginning in the 1950's Fibreglass and polyester resin enabled the mass production of sturdy cruising boats. Polyester and nylon also replaced cotton in sails and natural cordage in lines.
* Reliable small diesels made getting in and out of harbour or crossing the doldrums far less challenging.
* Wind vane self-steering, first widely used in the 1960's made short handed cruising infinitely more pleasant, reducing the need to stand at the helm staring at a compass for hours. Electric autopilots provided similar benefits.
* Radio and satellite communications made it feasible to obtain up to date weather information and stay in touch with other sailors and those who remain at home.
* Radar allowed us to 'see' over the horizon to avoid being run down, to move with more confidence in fog and poor visibility, and to enter strange harbours.
* Satellite navigation (GPS) removed the need to learn celestial navigation (although some still argue against over-reliance on this technology).
* Solar panels - another product of the space age provided silent 'free' power. Small wind and gas or diesel generators also provided power for the comforts of life that many of us take for granted.
* Refrigeration, propane stoves, and water makers brought the comforts of home on board.

These technologies are enablers - taking much of the risk and discomfort out of long distance cruising. I am sure it is no coincidence that dozens of people now complete circumnavigations each year compared to the handful who had done so before 1950.

Our position today at 14:30 zulu was N 00 41 W 131 16. We sailed only 93 miles (with 1 of those under motor this morning). Winds have varied from 1 knot to about 12 mostly out of the east and we had a decent spinnaker run in the afternoon. We also fixed a problem with the fridge thermostat by relocating it from the cockpit locker to the inside of the fridge. We hope to cross the equator sometime today, being only about 40 miles from it now! The champagne is chilling.

Peaceful Day on the Pacific - Day 17

We passed through a rather nasty looking ITCZ front of thick clouds, wind, rain and then total calm on Wednesday night and in the early hours of Thursday morning.

During the calm period, Chris turned on the iron jenny and we motored for about an hour. We called in our crew, Frankenpilot, to steer us but he packed it in immediately, feigning sick. Upon examination, it was found that old Frankie had swallowed some water during the squalls and it had gone the wrong way - into his electronic board. We undressed him and laid him out to dry out overnight while our newest recruit from West Marine, Stevie 2000, subbed in.

There was light at the end of the tunnel around 5am as a steady 3-4 Knot SE wind came up and we put up a full jib and main to push us along at 3 Knots. This light breeze continued throughout the day. The boat rolled a bit due to swells from the north and northwest but we put up the cockpit awning and relaxed "upstairs" under it's shade. The fresh breeze tickled the skin and Ladybug settled into an easy pace for the day.

I wished for dolphins and sent out telepathic messages. They appeared in droves. Well, at first there was a recce party of about eight. Then there were splashes and sleek bodies leaping out of the water everywhere for about a mile out. And they were headed our way!

Between 50 to 100 striped dolphins swam, dived and jumped all around Ladybug for about forty minutes. We encouraged them by filming and cheering them on. What an afternoon!

As predicted, we did not set any records this day, gaining only 101 miles over 24 hours. Our position at 1430 Zulu on April 6 was N 01 56 and W 130 27. After a strategy consult with our friend Mark on s/v Southern Cross, we changed our course from due south for the equator to 210 degrees true for Hiva Oa, 935 nautical miles out, so we cannot report the distance made good.

Our Little Universe

These days we live in our own little universe. It is an ever changing universe of mainly two colours - blue and white and all shades thereof. The ocean varies from the Royal Blue of a sunny day like today to the dusky indigo of the early evening. In the moonlit night it becomes molten silver and graphite grey. Night or day, it is always laced with white. It heaves and pulses like the living beast it is, the energy in it's belly speaking of unpredictable power.

The sky above is of different hues of blue. The baby blue at the sea surface deepens a few shades as one gazes higher. Fluffy cotton clouds hang picturesquely in this ceiling like the trail of a steam engine. On the horizon all around us they coalesce and are interlaced with grey. When the sun sets these same benign clouds will appear darker and evil. It is little wonder that mankind through the ages has worshipped the sun, the bringer of light and goodness.

Ladybug is bouncing alone in this universe like a puppy on a short leash. We know there are other other sailboats within a hundred mile radius but we have not seen any for 16 days. We live in a Water World.

Sunburn, spinnakers, and reverse osmosis - Day 16

The sun at 4 degrees latitude is dangerously strong. It has been so hot and humid that we are down to our underwear. I have rather badly burned the top of my legs after very brief (pun intended) exposure. We rigged the small cockpit awning that allows us to sail with it up to get some relief from the rays, but later had to strike it due to squalls.

The day began with very light NE winds, which pushed us along at 4 knots broad reaching. Our starboard water tank ran dry, so we realized it was time to bring the water maker back into service (it had been 'pickled' with sodium metabisulphite back around Christmas). The water maker does not like rough seas or fast sailing, getting air bubbles in the system. This causes the 800 psi pressure required for the reverse osmosis to work to drop to about 200 psi, so we sailed the whole morning at an increasingly sedate pace, making about 20 gallons of water in 3 hours.

Around noon we took another sextant sight. This time, the sun passed behind us as we headed south while I was taking the sites - a very strange feeling to have it go to the north of us. Our location was only within 7 miles of the GPS one on this sight - again our longitude was good (within a mile or to), but our latitude off. Not sure what I am doing wrong, but hope that further practice will get us a bit closer.

By early afternoon, the wind was down even further and we had perfect conditions for a spinnaker run. We hoisted the cruising chute for the first time on this crossing and our speed immediately returned to 4+ knots. We spent the afternoon rolling down toward the equator with the big red and white balloon gracefully towing us along. Unfortunately all good things must end and around supper time, we ran under another line of towering cumulus clouds filled with rain and wind. I held onto the chute until the last minute, raising Rani's blood pressure, but just before the first squall we doused it with its snuffing sock and re-hoisted main and jib.

All last night we had very light winds from the east and south east with a few squalls. The first major squall was enough for another cockpit shower - a welcome relief after sweating for 2 days in 90 degree heat!

Our position at 14:30 zulu on April 5 was N 03 19 W 129 33. We ran 99 NMs making good 93 toward our equator crossing point (199 miles to go!).

Squalls and Sunshine - Day 15

Monday night and the early hours of Tuesday morning were busy hours on deck as we passed through confusing systems of light airs with lightning and heavy showers accompanied by 20-25 Knot winds. Watches were unfair as I had to ask Chris to tend to the sail changes on my shift too. Due to the large frequent swells rocking the boat it was a tough balancing act lifting the heavy teak hatch door aside as we entered and exited the cockpit in the rain. I was happy that we had taken the pole down earlier in the evening - that would not have been a lot of fun in those conditions.

On the plus side, both of us took a refreshing rain shower to wash off the sweat and grime.

We continued on a westerly course. In the early afternoon we could see blue sky ahead and figured it was time to make the left turn to head south. We put in a new way point to the equator. Only another 384 miles to the line! The sunshine was a boost to spirits, the wind on the beam - God was smiling upon us again!

Our position on April 4 at 1430 Zulu was N 04 50 and W 129 11. We managed to sail 129 nautical miles despite the ITCZ conditions.

Squalls to the left of us, squals to the right of us - Day 14

Ladybug is definitely in the doldrums. We have spent the last 24 hours dodging squalls and listening to the rain pound the decks in a torrential deluge. The squalls sometimes pack a punch, with winds increasing to 25 knots or more, resulting in frantic sail changes- three of these last night in the wee hours. I did one sail change sans clothes and had a very effective shower at the same time. We found a leak in the cabin 'roof' where the traveller for the main sheet is attached and had to take apart the interior to find and fix this. In one of the squalls I sacrificed the rubber end of our flashlight to Neptune when the jib sheet was jerked out of my hands.

The radar has been a great help in squall watching - they show up as evil looking chunks on the screen in contrast to the elegant little blips that a ship would make. We are fairly near a shipping lane that runs from Panama to the Philippines, so the person on watch has to be doubly vigilant.

As of 14:30 zulu on April 3, we were at position N 06 23 and W 128 28. We ran 126 miles but only 99 of those in the right direction. Hot and muggy below with all hatches battened down.

The Doldrums

Being at approximately 7 degrees north and 127 degrees west, we are now officially in the doldrums or the Inter-Tropical Convergence Zone as NOAA calls this area of rain squalls, variable winds, and lightning:

From the April 2 NOAA forecast:

INTERTROPICAL CONVERGENCE ZONE/MONSOON TROUGH...
ITCZ AXIS EXTENDS FROM 09N121W TO 04N140W. SCATTERED MODERATE
WITHIN 75 NM EITHER SIDE OF AXIS BETWEEN 129W AND 133W.

The GRIB (weather model) file shows a 1012 millibar gradient running north east to south west just below us, with a 1012 high to the southeast and a 1012 low to the northeast of that. Not sure how one can have a high and a low beside each other with the same pressure, but - hey - I'm no meteorologist.

Practically - this means that our 140 mile days are over for a while. The ITCZ should go somewhere else in a couple of days if the GRIB forecast files are correct, but it looks like we are in for a couple of days of frustrating sailing, dodging rain squalls and lightning.

Halfway - Day 13

Well - we are more than halfway to Hiva Oa, passing the halfway point (as the seagull flies) at mile 1308 around 2 pm local time yesterday.

We have begun to pass through rain showers and impressive cloud formations. During the first good morning shower, we stripped off and jumped into the cockpit, lathering up and then dancing around in the cool clean heavy rain - lovely!

We also finally had suitable conditions to do a noon sextant site, following instructions drafted for us by Kurt ('Kaptain Krunch') off S/V Raven.

Here is how we did this:

1. Adjusted our clock to a time signal broadcast over the SSB radio so that it was correct for Greenwich time.
2. Looked up when the real local noon (sun as far overhead as possible) was according to our rough current position.
3. Took a series of sextant 'shots' that bracketed this time, to determine a) the maximum height above the horizon of the sun and B) When exactly that height was reached (local apparent noon). This is quite a fun exercise as you swing the sextant back and forth, watching a little red ball (the filtered sun) arc back and forth like a pendulum. The trick is to know when the bottom of the red ball just grazes the horizon. This is not always easy on a rolling boat with 6 foot swells getting in the way.
4. Adjusted these numbers for factors such as how high we were above sea level (about 2 meters), errors in the plastic sextant, and the half diameter of the sun.
5. Looked up various values in the 2012 nautical almanac that use these data to obtain lat and long.

According to our GPS, we were only off by 4 miles in our sights - very good for our first attempt using Kurt's instructions. We tried this once before using the simple instructions from the sextant manual and only achieved a 30 mile accuracy!

Our position as of 14:30 zulu this morning was N 07 04 and W 126 38 for a day's run of 126 NMs with 123 of them in th right direction. Winds became light and shifting with lightning and showers in the early hours this morning, which has slowed us down.

Bloody boobies! - Day 12

Yesterday was a reprieve from the twisting and turning of the previous two days as we steered 200 degrees magnetic with following seas. The seventh hill or so rolling in to the beam still managed to surprise us. The kerosene lamp above the galley stove swung at just the right angle to strike a stainless steel glass I was holding and the globe shattered and flew in all directions.

Around noon, twenty to thirty dolphins appeared, some swimming in synch like well coordinated Olympic champions while others frolicked about and chased flying fish. They varied in size from 3 to 5 feet and most had charcoal grey bodies while a few were lighter and dappled. The babies sported distinct white tipped noses like skiers wearing liberal helpings of sunscreen. We were surprised that they stayed with us for half an hour, probably encouraging Ladybug to swim faster and eventually giving up, to speed ahead.

We took advantage of the gentler day to cook a good meal ( mixed vegetable curry and rice ), pump the bilge and generally clean up. It is strange how one's appetite changes when one's insides are being churned all day long. I have not felt my usual all day long lust for chai tea or suffered withdrawal from spicy foods. In fact I actually asked Chris to cook a bland stew the other night!

The balmy evening air brought a little rain shower and I jumped naked into the cockpit for a wash. But it was not the fat rain that I was hoping for and I merely ended up swabbing the deck instead.

During the day we had several sightings of tropic birds, snowy white and plump, with long tail feathers. We also sighted red footed boobies, diving for flying fish. You may recall that these birds had been a nuisance earlier and Chris had to whack one with a fistful of sail ties to chase it off our solar panel.

Boobies really are the dumbest birds, and despite the mast arcing through 30 degrees, one tried to land again on our wind indicator. After the last bird encounter on Isla Cerralvo, when an Osprey destroyed this very useful instrument, Chris had epoxied a spike made from a straightened 3 inch fish hook to the center of the vane. We figured that this would send out a big "DO NOT LAND HERE" message to future aviators. Boobies, however, must be blind as well as stupid because this one managed to impale itself on the spike. It was unable to extract itself due to the barb and nearly destroyed the indicator and antenna at the mast head in its efforts to do so. Eventually things quieted down and the poor bird is now swinging around up there, its beak pointing quite accurately into the wind.

Now for our position report for April 1, 1430 Zulu. We were at 08 35 N and 125 12 W, with 140 miles run in the previous 24 hours, 135 made good towards our goal.

Life and Death - Day 11

Rani is outside now with the videocam trying to capture flights of flying fish. They erupt suddenly from both sides of the boat, perhaps frightened by our huge wallowing bulk. Like a flurry of silver darts they skim the waves, twisting around each swell, sometimes landing more than a hundred feet from their launch spot.

On deck this morning were 5 flying fish and one squid, ranging in size from an inch long to more than 9 inches. Before Rani was out of bed, I had cleaned and fried the 3 larger fish - firm white flesh - delicious and very fresh (sorry Rani!) The flying fish here at 10 degrees are more plentiful and larger than the ones I saw on the Hawaii trip.

We had dolphins around the boat last night, identifiable in the rough seas by their little gasps for air. I could just make out their light trails amidst the tumbling seas.

On this morning's radio net, Don on Buena Vista, currently about 150 miles north of us, reported catching 2 boobies on his fishing line. Sadly, the birds dive for the trailing lure and once hooked are soon drowned as they drag behind the boat. It took Don over an hour to retrieve the poor creatures. One of the other cruisers asked if Don had tried eating Booby. This was too good a set-up line to ignore, but I will not print Don's reply.

Karen and Mike on Chapter 2 caught a 10 pound Wahoo - large mackerel that can grow up to 7 feet long and 100 pounds. When Don asked them what type of lure they used, I broke in and told them that we had 'caught' 3 edible fish with our 34 foot red and white striped 'lure'.

Last night could have been our last one. At 8pm local time we spotted a flashing white light, which moved rapidly closer. I tried to track it on the radar, but it was lost amongst the wave scatter. It turned out to be a buoy of some sort - maybe a meteorological one - and if we had not quickly altered course, we would possibly have struck it, damaging or even sinking our boat - yikes. What the heck is a buoy doing out here 1000 miles from land? For anyone interested, the buoy was located at N 11 05.166 and W 123 01.862.

We have less than 400 miles to run to the point where we will turn south. We just brought Ladybug onto port tack so that we do not end up too far to the west. If this was to happen, we would have a hard time getting to the Marquesas against the prevailing SE trade winds.

Our position at 14:30 Zulu was N 10 30 W 123 59. We ran 141 nautical miles in the previous 24 hours with 130 of those made good toward our ITCZ turning point.