Month: February 2018

Day 6:

Today at noon marks the beginning of our sixth day at sea. We have approximately 3000 miles before we make landfall in Nuku Hiva. When thinking about writing these blog posts, I tried to think about what might be interesting to read about. After all, we are just sitting on the boat day after day ticking off the miles. I could tell you about wind speed, sea conditions, sail configurations and the like. But, if I were reading that, frankly I would think it was a bit boring!

So, I’ll sum up our current state briefly and try to get to the more interesting parts of our journey. We’re currently sailing along at about 6.5 kts with the wind just forward if our beam. Right now we are sailing with a double reef in the main, full staysail and part of the jib. There is a bit of swell rolling us but manageable. We’ve seen pretty steady winds of 12-17 kts, so we haven’t turned the engine on at all, which is great. We’re still headed a bit south with the hopes of the winds clocking around more to the east, so we can turn west and run with the wind from behind all the way to the Marquesas.

We left Puerto Lucia in tandem with our friend Dan on Kini Popo. He has a very different boat than ours. We have an older, heavier boat made for offshore sailing. It can handle some pretty rough conditions relatively comfortably. Most of the newer boats (unless you have unlimited funds) aren’t designed for it. That is why you see so many 70’s and 80’s boats out there cruising. Dan’s boat is a newer production boat usually used more for coastal sailing and racing, not that some people don’t make offshore passages with them. It sails very differently than our boat. As it is much lighter, it is also much faster. We knew we would eventually end up out of VHF range with Dan, which happened after the third day. We’re still checking in with him twice a day via sat phone and all is well.

Dan did have a little excitement the third morning when he radioed us to tell us he had snagged a fishing line. We hadn’t seen any fishing or boat traffic all night, so it was likely some ghost fishing gear that had gotten away from a commercial fishing boat. Luckily, the conditions were quite calm that morning. As Mike & I stood by on the radio, Dan had to tie a line around himself and jump overboard with a knife to free the fishing gear from his sail drive. A scary proposition knowing there is no one else on the boat! But, in a manner of minutes Dan radioed us back to let us know that the line was free and he had a refreshing dip in the water. Whew!

Earlier that same day, Mike had decided to put his own fishing line in the water to see if we could catch something. He has been talking about catching a yellowfin tuna for almost two years now, as that was the last time we caught one coming down the Baja on our way to Cabo. Well, that afternoon Mike was rewarded for his patience when we picked up the perfect size yellowfin tuna for the two of us for dinner. I made some delicious tuna poke with fresh avocado.

We’ve hardly seen any boat traffic since our first night leaving Ecuador. It certainly makes the night watches easy when a quick scan of the horizon every twenty minutes or so confirms that there is nothing but ocean around us. Surprisingly, even 400+ miles from land, we are still seeing seabirds. I had a trio of three large, white birds fly parallel to the boat for several hours one night. There was no moon and not enough light to identify them but it was quite interesting. And, last night Mike had a brown seabird of some sort with orange rings around its eyes and orange webbed feet land on our surfboards to take a bit of a rest.

Other than the birds and the occasional flying fish that lands on deck, we hadn’t had any visitors. That’s why what happened yesterday was so surprising. I was on watch in the morning with my headphones on when I heard what sounded like an engine. I ripped off the headphones and spun around half expecting to see some boat that had somehow snuck up on me, and was shocked to see a helicopter coming right up behind the boat. He came along our starboard side, waved at me, circled around the bow and stopped pretty low next to our port side. He waved at me again, which I returned, and then quickly took off heading south. Again, we are over 400 miles from the nearest land. I have no idea where he came from or what the range is on those things. I was even more surprised when it happened again this morning. The same helicopter came up to us again, circling around, waving and taking off. It did not look like military or coast guard, and today I noticed the Panamanian flag painted on the side. We are a long way from Panama! It’s possible the helicopter is on a ship, but who knows. We’ll see if they show up again tomorrow.

Well, those are all my sea tales for now. I’ll check in again in a few days with more from our Pacific crossing.

-Katie

Day 1:

We left Puerto Lucia at noon on Friday. Forget the old sailor’s superstition that it is bad luck to leave port on a Friday. The weather forecast looked perfect and we were ready to be on our way. Amy, Marisol and Rikka greeted us on the dock to say goodbye and blow horns and whistles at us as we pulled away from the dock and headed out of the Marina. We met Rikka, her husband and three kids from Finland a couple of weeks ago on s/v Panacea when they pulled into the Marina. They are also headed to the Marquesas and we look forward to reuniting with them when they arrive a few weeks after us.

Our friend Dan on Kini Popo is single handing his boat on the crossing and has decided to buddy boat with us to stay within VHF range. So, he pulled out of the Marina just after we did. We know what a challenge an ocean crossing is going to be for Mike & I, even though we have double hand sailed Adagio over 10,000 miles these last two years. So, the enormity of the challenge of sailing alone for 3,500 miles is almost indescribable. I certainly admire his tenacity and determination to sail this passage even after the various crew he had lined up to sail with him all fell through.

We headed out of port on a clear blue and sunny day, which was quite a relief after all the rain we’ve had the last two weeks. The weather models during the last couple of weeks showed light winds for the first 600 miles or so, and we can’t afford to motor that much. But, in the last few days it was starting to show more organized winds starting on Friday, which proved to be the case.

We started out motoring to get out of the harbor and around the peninsula before turning more southward. We put on the electric auto pilot, which has been very reliable the last two years, and immediately noticed that it was not holding our course. Mike thought we may need to recalibrate the auto pilot compass and sent me looking for the manual. We keep all of out equipment information/manuals in a file folder box. Because we rarely have to dig into the files, I had stored the box in the bottom of the hanging locker in the v-berth.

Our v-berth is unlike a lot of boats that have a large cabin up front. Our v-berth is small. You access it through a door after you climb through the round salon seat. It is barely large enough for me to stand in. It is also our storage area that I refer to as the garage and packed with stuff. In order to get in the hanging locker, you have to climb in the v-berth and shut the door behind you, because the hanging locker sits behind the open door. I got into the hanging locker, pulled everything out, piling it around me to access the filing box.

Once I found what I was looking for, I tried to open the door to the v-berth to get out. It wouldn’t budge. I tried again and again, but I was trapped. I knew Mike was in the cockpit and was unsure if he could hear me over the sound of the engine and the wind. I yelled “MIKE” as loud as I could and heard him yell “WHAT” back at me. After explaining that I was trapped, he tried to get me out but we discovered that the latch in the door wasn’t releasing when you turned the door handle. I was not getting out that way.

Mike told me to hang on as he went up on deck, raised up our dinghy which sits on the foredeck, and opened the hatch above the v-berth. I had to move a lot of gear out of the way and take down the screen, but I was able to climb out the hatch and get free. Whew. What a way to start our passage! Only 3,500 miles to go!

We tried recalibrating the auto pilot compass but we unable to do it because there was too much swell and waves. Luckily, we only use the electric auto pilot when we motor, and we have no intention of motoring to the Marquesas! We are a sailboat!

We got around the peninsula, raised the sails and cut the engine. We set the Hydrovane, which steers us under sail and finally got to relax. There was plenty of wind, but as we suspected, we are going to have to sail close to the wind for the first few days. We are sailing Southwest, but as much South as we can go tight into the wind. We started at 2 degrees South and need to get to at least 6 degrees South to pick up the trade winds, which should clock around to the Southeast, allowing us to sail with the wind on the beam or aft of the beam, which is a much more pleasant point of sail than beating into it. We should also pick up the Equatorial current which will be favorable and help take us West.

After dinner, Mike and I settled into our shifts of night watches. The wind kept things cool and necessitated pants and a light jacket. But, the stars and moon were out, and I was able to find the Southern Cross in the night sky for the first time.

As we were still relatively close to land, our main concern were small fishing boats. I don’t worry about the big cargo ships. They show up on AIS twenty miles away and are lit up like Christmas trees. As long as you are paying attention, you can get out of their way. Fishing pangas are a different story. If there is a lot of swell, sometimes you don’t see their lights until you are pretty close to them, since they are so low to the water. And, they often have out nets or long lines that can trail a long way off their boat. We still haven’t figured out if the lines trail windward or leeward. We’ve also noticed here in Ecuador, that lines or nets are dropped and left with a strobe light on it. You also can’t see the strobes until you are almost on top of it. The last thing we want to do is snag a fishing line.

Mike & I always have someone awake on watch. Because Dan is by himself, he obviously can’t do that. He has to get some rest. So, as the lead boat, we made calls to him throughout the night about boat traffic. I was actually expecting more than we saw. For the most part, we had a quiet night with just the sound of the wind and waves and the excitement of finally being on this journey that we have talked about for 10 years.

-Katie