Author: katie

We left Baie Marquisienne headed back to Taiohae on Nuku Hiva. Once we turned the point headed east around the island, it was an upwind slog motoring into wind and swell. But, it was a relatively short trip. Despite the conditions and the length of the trip, Mike was determined to turn his luck around at fishing and trolled two lines off the back. His perseverance was rewarded when both lines zinged at the same time and pulled quite a bit of line. We had two good size fish on!

It took some time to get both fish aboard with the rolly conditions, but we pulled in two really nice yellowfin tuna!

We circled around the inner part of Taiohae bay so that Mike could filet both fish in a bit calmer conditions, and I could get the fish into the freezer pretty quickly. Once we anchored, we headed into shore to see if we could catch any store open (it was too late) and check our email. As we were pulling up to the dock, we ran into our friends on Desiderata (who made us that awesome curry dinner). We offered to bring them some of the tuna we had caught, and they offered to give us some goat in return.

They had negotiated with some locals to purchase a whole goat from them. I was wondering how the locals got meat other than fish on the island, as all the frozen meat in the magasins is imported and quite expensive. You can buy frozen meat from the US and lamb from New Zealand, but it will cost you. I was going to buy a chicken breast in the store until I realized it was $16.

So, the locals eat the chickens, goats and pigs on the island. We also saw cows, but I don’t know if they are beef or dairy. I’m sure that some of the goats and pigs are owned, but we’ve heard that hunting on the island is big too, so I assume a lot of them are wild. Anyway, Desi had bought a whole goat for $50.

The next day we waited with Desi for the goat to arrive. I wasn’t sure how a whole goat gets delivered. But, a pickup pulled up and a woman got out with a large plastic sack containing the goat. It had been skinned and gutted (no head, thank goodness), but otherwise it was in one whole piece and had not been butchered. I try not to get too squeamish about where food comes from, but it looked a lot more like a goat than a steak or pork chop in the store looks like the animal it came from.

The next day we headed over to Desi to swap our tuna for some goat. They were very generous and gave us some ziplock bags stuffed with goat meat, and we gave them some big filets of tuna. Stuart had butchered the goat and even rendered stock from the bones. He gave me a nice portion of goat stock to work with. And, as a bonus they gave us some homemade mango chutney. I tried to get a few tips on how to cook the goat, as I have never done it. Julia recommended the pressure cooker as goat needs to be cooked quite a bit to get tender. I’ll let you know how it goes…

Meanwhile, we decided to have our own surf and turf meal aboard Kini Popo. Dan had some lamb chops defrosted that he had picked up at the magasin and suggested the combination with the fresh tuna. We added rice, veggies and some tamarind daiquiris to the mix and made a feast. You know the dinner is good when no one is talking and everyone is just focused on their plates.

While in Taiohae, we got the carburetor on the dive compressor cleaned out and some tanks filled so we would be ready to go when we found a new dive spot. We also got some chores done like topping up our propane tanks. This is apparently the only place in the Marquesas that has the US fittings for propane tanks. Even though we hadn’t burned through a whole tank, it just made sense to fill up while we were there. We carry a lot of propane compared to most cruising boats, but we also like to cook a lot.

We started planning the next leg of our journey. We intended to stop at Ua Poa and then head down to Tahuata. Dan’s friends were arriving in Hiva Oa in about 5 days, and we needed to make our way down there. After looking at the weather forecasts and conditions, it didn’t make sense to stop at Ua Poa. If we did, we were going to get hit with some nasty weather on the second leg to Tahuata. So, we made the decision to go straight to Tahuata, which was an 80 mile sail. We know that we will be back in the Marquesas toward the end of the season, so we will try to hit Ua Poa then.

The sail to Tahuata was pretty straight forward. We knew we were going to be heading upwind. We had roughly 15 kts of wind at about a 35 deg apparent wind angle. It was a little bumpy heading into the swell, but tolerable. We left just as the sun was setting and arrived the next morning.

The anchorage was picturesque with white sand beaches and clear blue water. After dropping anchor in what we hoped was a bit of sand amidst the rocks, Mike dove on the anchor to make sure it set. As he was in the water, I looked at the two catamarans already anchored in the bay. I immediately recognized Ivadel, who we had met over a year ago in Chiapas, Mexico. If you’ve been reading the blog since then, you might recall that they are a French couple named Philippe and Caroline. Philippe was previously an award winning baker in Paris and taught me and Katie (from Kya) how to make French baguettes.

I hollered at Mike in the water that I spotted Ivadel, and he swam over to say hello. We’re invited to drinks aboard Ivadel this evening. It will be nice to catch up, even if there is a bit of a language barrier. They have a little English, which I’m sure is still better than my French. But, it will give me a chance to practice what French words I do know.

We’re looking forward to exploring Tahuata!

Katie

The west side of Nuku Hiva is the dry, desert like side of the island. It is not well charted or frequently visited by cruising boats. So, of course we had to check it out. We left Daniel’s Bay and rounded the point heading North. As the wind and swell is generally from the East, the seas became flat and calm the minute we rounded the cape. It was as if we had discovered a whole different ocean.

On the charts and mentioned online by another cruising boat was a small anchorage up the coast called Baie Marquesienne. We weren’t sure at first if it was going to be big enough for boat boats to anchor with enough swing room. So, our friend Dan on Kini Popo headed in first to check it out and after a quick survey with the depth sounder it looked pretty good. But, given Dan’s windlass issue, we wanted to make sure his anchor wouldn’t get stuck.

Mike and I anchored Adagio in about 30 feet of water. The water was so much clearer than the southern coast that we could just make out the bottom. Dan idled Kini Popo just outside the anchorage as Mike threw on snorkel gear to check out our anchor and the bottom conditions. The bottom was all sand and looked to be good holding, so soon Kini Popo was anchored along side us.

With the clear water, we decided to go for a snorkel around the southern point of the anchorage and found some shallow areas just around the corner to anchor the dinghy and jump in. The visibility was great, and we saw tons of fish. Dan even saw a 3 ft black tip reef shark. The only down side were the jellyfish. Mike & I both got hit a couple of times by some small Portuguese Man of War jellyfish. They have some of the worst stings of all the jellyfish (although not deadly). They were small ones, so it probably could have been worse. I had one get stuck in the neck of my wetsuit and Mike had one wrap around his forehead. It took quite a few hours for the welts and redness to go down. Ugh.

The next day we decided to go for a hike onshore. Beaching the dinghy was challenging as it is steep and rocky. But, we wanted to get up on top of the ridge for what we rightly assumed would be great views. There are no trails as it is uninhabited, so we had to do a bit of scrambling and climbing. Closed toe shoes, long pants and a machete were a must, as we had to do some bushwhacking. We followed goat trails up the ridge as much as we could, but Mike had to pull me up some pretty steep climbs.

Once we reached the top, we had to walk across a lot of brush where the goats and horses had clearly been. But, across the brush we reached the overhang of the cliff above our boats and found the fabulous views we were looking for.

By the time we made it back down to the shore and were on our way to the boats, I think we were all physically pooped. It was a much more strenuous hike than the one we did at Daniel’s Bay. I was ready for a shower and relaxing with a cocktail, but despite being tired from the hike Mike was energized. He called the hike “soul cleansing.”

Our plan for the next day was to try and do a dive out at the point. Our tanks needed to be filled, so our first order of business was to get out the dive compressor and fill the tanks. We hadn’t been diving since Costa Rica, so it had been awhile since we’d used the compressor. Unfortunately, it did not start right away as it had always done on the past. Dan came over to help troubleshoot as he has the same dive compressor on board. After much tinkering, the boys determined that it was the carburetor which would need to be taken apart and cleaned. That wasn’t going to happen today.

Dan had two tanks with air, so I opted to let the boys dive while I just snorkeled at the surface. I know there are going to be a lot of other dive opportunities in the coming months. They had a fun time, saw lots of fish, a large sting ray and a giant grouper hiding in a small cave. I just did some free diving around some rocks in about 30 ft of water and waited for them to return. Luckily, there were no jellyfish this time.

Later that afternoon the boys took the dinghy out to try some fishing, but no luck. So, far we have not picked up any fish in the Marquesas. We hope our fishing luck will change soon! We’re going to head back to Taiohae to do some provisioning, work on the dive compressor and fill our propane. From there, we plan to head to the island of Oa Pua.

-Katie

What I like about waterfalls is that they are all unique – some are tall and fall over mountains, some are wide, some have enormous amounts of water flowing and others are just a trickle. But, to get to any waterfall, you have to go on an adventure into nature and often trek through difficult terrain. Your reward for such an exploration is the magnificent waterfall at the end.

We had heard from friends that made their way to French Polynesia last year that one of the things not to be missed was the hike to the waterfall at Daniel’s Bay (Anse Hakatea) just five miles from Taiohae. So, we made a plan with our friend Dan on Kini Popo to head over for a few days and find the waterfall.

Our first challenge was getting out of the anchorage. Since misery loves company, both boats were having problems with their windlasses (for non-sailors – the electronic thingy that helps pull up the anchor). We realized our problem a couple of days after arriving in Taiohae was the connection from the handheld controller to the windlass on deck. Mike was able to bypass the connector and wire it directly so that it still works.

Dan, on the other hand, was not so lucky. His motor was completely shot and would need to be replaced. So, in order to raise anchor, he would need to pull up over 100 feet of chain and the anchor by hand. This would especially be challenging since he is single handing and the bay way quite windy. We decided that Mike would go over and help pull up Dan’s anchor first and then just swim back to the boat as Dan was leaving the anchorage. It took the two boys both heaving on that chain for a solid 10-15 minutes before they finally got the anchor up. Luckily for Mike some friends we had met earlier were in their dinghy and gave him a ride back to Adagio so he wouldn’t have to swim.

The seas were a mess when we left the anchorage and we just motored for the one hour trip to Daniel’s Bay, but we were followed by dolphins almost the whole way which is always exciting. As we entered the bay, the seas calmed down and we got our first views of the dramatic cliffs and canyon. Early the next morning, we were able to catch some good shots of a rainbow against this backdrop just as some brief showers had passed.

We were told the hike was about 12 kilometers round trip, so we got an early start beaching the dinghy in the western lobe of the bay. There are several families who live in the valley, and you have to pass through their properties to get to the trail. So, we couldn’t blame them for selling tickets for $10 (1000 CFP) to get to the waterfall. Because of its proximity to Taiohae, I’m sure they have boats visiting here year round. This is also where they shot one of the Survivor seasons (not that I’ve watched it). I feel like we keep ending up somewhere that Survivor filmed. This happened to us when we were in Panama in the Perlas also.

Anyway, after buying our ticket we stopped at the first house we came to and met a very nice Marquesan couple who offer to prepare lunch for the hikers upon their return and also sell fruit from their trees. We made arrangements with them to have lunch on our way back.

The beginning of the hike is down a road past the various properties of the families who live here, which were impeccably manicured and full of fruit trees. A bit farther down became more rustic and finally turned into a narrow trail that was reasonably marked. We had to zig zag across the river a couple of times and through several streams. There was one stretch of the trail that had so many mango trees that fermenting, rotting mangos littered the trail giving off a sweet, rancid odor. The rotting mangos also brought hordes of gnats. We also passed more archeological ruins which apparently cover the island.

At one point we stopped and got a glimpse of the waterfall across the canyon. It is incredibly high, but we could tell at this distance that there wasn’t much water flowing. We are at the end of the dry season and the rainy season hasn’t really begun yet. Other tales we had heard of this hike were of fast rushing water and muddy trails. But, the trails were dry now and we hiked over many dry creek beds. So, we were reasonably prepared for the spigot to have been mostly turned off on the waterfall.

Regardless of the lack of water, the scenery was impressive and well worth the hike. The steep canyon walls loomed over us as we entered the center of the canyon as we approached the waterfall. White tropic birds glided above us as we walked through the greenery below. We got to the pool at the end that required us to swim across in order to see the waterfall. However, even on the other side, you could only see the very bottom of the falls as the rest was obstructed from view by rock formations. There was a second pool you could swim through to get underneath the falls. But, it looked stagnant and mosquito ridden, so we opted not to do that one.

One our way to the final part of the hike into the valley, we had come across a sign that said to beware of falling rocks. This was no joke. Just as we had swum across the pool closer to the waterfall, I heard this whistling sound and then a plop behind me as a rock about the size of a baseball had fallen from several hundred feet above us and landed in the water about 20 feet away. That would have done some serious or permanent damage if it had hit us. Yikes. From then on we kept looking up while in the canyon.

Our cruising guides said that round trip the hike should be about 5 hours. About half way back on our return, we realized it had only been about 3 hours. We’re pretty fast walkers and without the muddy trails, it was not too difficult a walk. We assumed our lunch wouldn’t be ready yet, so we stopped to take in the scenery high up over the river. Of course, Mike doesn’t do well with sitting still so soon he was off the trail trying to make his way down to the river. After successfully navigating the climb down, he motioned for Dan and I to join him.

We slowly climbed over boulders and tree limbs and through the rotting mangos until we got to the river. We saw some small falls upstream and made our way through the cold water to check them out. We had some fun playing in the river cooling off for awhile and then climbed back up to the trail to make our way out.

Lunch was waiting for us when we arrived. We had green mango salad, roast pork and breadfruit with fresh squeezed juice. It was great. With our few French words and their few English words, we were able to communicate with this fun couple and their teenage son who was home from school. Apparently all the high school age kids on Nuku Hiva go to boarding school in Tahiti. The kids are currently home for Easter/Spring break. We wanted to buy some fruit, which they were willing to sell, but what they really wanted was to trade for a pair of board shorts for their son. Mike though about it and agreed to part with some shorts. When the mom heard this, she started loading us up with pamplemousse, mangos, oranges and limes. Mike made a quick trip back to the boat and returned with the shorts. The son was ecstatic. Mike says it was worth giving up the shorts (which were pretty nice) just to see how happy the kid was. I imagine it is difficult to buy and import that type of thing here.

We returned to our boats and found an Australian boat anchored in the bay that we had met in Taiohae. Dan invited us all over for sundowners on his boat that evening. It was the perfect end to a beautiful day. You never know what you’re going to find when you set off to find a waterfall.

-Katie

We made it to Nuku Hiva! Now that we have arrived in the Marquesas, I thought I’d do a little summary of our passage…

Number of days: 26
Nautical miles: 3559
Departure port: Puerto Lucia, Ecuador
Arrival port: Taiohae, Nuku Hiva
Hours we ran the engine: 5
# of times we ran the water maker: 4
Last day we saw a ship after leaving Ecuador: Day 4
# of times we were buzzed by a helicopter: 3
# of fish we caught: 3 (1 yellowfin tuna, 1 dorado, 1 skipjack) # of times we saw dolphins: 3
# of audiobooks listened to: 7
# of French lessons listened to: 16
Highest wind gusts: 37 kts
Biggest seas: 20+ feet
# of days with rain/squalls: about 5 but squalls were brief
# of things that broke: 4 (spinnaker pole, boom vang, staysail sheet, block for reefing line on boom) # of hitchhiking birds: 2
Most # of flying fish that committed suicide on our boat in one night: 5 # of flying fish that hit Mike in the chest: 1 hahaha
# of days we flew the spinnaker: 1
Boxes of macaroni & cheese consumed: 3 (probably the most we have eaten since college) Packets of tuna eaten: about 20
# of hard boiled eggs eaten: 2 dozen

The sight of seeing the South Pacific islands rising out of the sea after almost a month was breathtaking. Mike woke me at sunrise this morning to come into the cockpit to see Ua Huka that we were passing to starboard. It was an amazing sight to see this massive volcanic island rising out of the sea in the middle of nowhere. Granted I was still half asleep at the time, but it was still fair to say I was speechless. The towering verdant hills stared down at us as we silently passed by on our way to Nuku Hiva. I was more than a little sad that we did not stop at the island even for a little while to admire it. But, Nuku Hiva awaited us, and a few hours later we were gliding into the bay at Taiohae and relaxing for the first time in 26 days.

Overall, I think we both feel a huge sense of accomplishment having crossed an ocean ourselves in our modest 41 ft boat. We had read others’ reports of their crossing that claimed it was relaxing and meditative, that they set their sails in the trades and didn’t have to adjust them for three weeks. That was unfortunately not our crossing. For the most part we had consistent winds that let us sail the entire trip. We adjusted the sails as the wind strengthened or lessened and only had to jibe a couple of times toward the end to keep our course. The biggest challenge of our crossing was the sea state. For almost the entire passage we had confused seas with a strong cross swell. The messed up seas tossed us about and forced us to shorten sail in order to minimize the flogging of the main sail. It also made moving about the boat more challenging and tiring, often making it difficult to sleep.

I certainly had my good days and bad days on the passage. There were days I thoroughly enjoyed just sailing and the peacefulness of being on the water. There were other days that I was tired and not feeling 100% when all I wanted to do was get off the boat. There were more good days than bad, and I think doing this on our own confirmed again what a good team we make together. We’ve arrived at the magical islands of the South Pacific and I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything.

-Katie

Trying to power a 30,000 pound boat across an ocean using only the wind is a challenge. I believe sailing includes the Goldilocks principle. There is usually too much wind or not enough wind and rarely the perfect amount of wind. But, you have to find a way to make the boat move regardless of what imperfect amount of wind you are given.

After several days of high winds and big seas, we were looking forward to the forecast that said the wind and seas would be calming. Well, they did calm right on schedule. We still had roughly 15 kts of wind, but it was coming from directly behind us. So, the apparent wind was down to 7-8 kts. The biggest challenge with light winds from behind, especially when there is still some swell running, is how to keep the sails full so that they don’t flog. When the sails start flogging, the whole boat vibrates. It is not good for the boat or the sails and has the potential to break something with all those forces at work.

So, we went to work trying to figure out the right sail combination. With the lighter winds, we set up our asymmetrical spinnaker, which is a light wind sail like a kite or parachute. We set it once, and then the wind picked up to 20 kts. So, we took it down, set the pole and went back to wing and wing. Of course, as soon as we did that the winds dropped and we were flogging like crazy. So, down went the pole and the spinnaker went back up.

As we were sailing more downwind, we had to mess with the spinnaker for a while to get it t stay full. We kept letting out the tack which helped but wasn’t perfect. We studied it for a few minutes and concluded that the problem was that the main sail was blanketing it. So, we put two reefs in the main to shorten sail and let more wind get to the spinnaker. That worked. We got a good hour out of it before the winds kicked up over 20 kts again. Down went the spinnaker and up went the pole again.

Just like last time, as soon as we pulled down the spinnaker the winds dropped to about 12 kts. Ugh. We lived with the inadequate wing and wing set up for a while until we couldn’t stand it anymore. Mike called it a flog fest. We tried setting the spinnaker one more time, but sure enough, as soon as we got it set there was too much wind and it had to come down. We reset the pole and wing and wing set up. In order to try and stop some of the flogging of the main and potential damage, we put a third reef in the main. (Our jib already had a reef in it due to our pole incident.)

We looked at the wind, our sails and the seas. There should have been enough wind to keep us from rolling and flogging as much as we were. But, the problem now appeared to be a strange cross swell. There was a regular swell from the south east, but you could see a periodic perpendicular swell that when it met with the regular swell created a washing machine effect which rolled the boat violently causing the sails to flog.

I was lamenting all of the work we had done that day putting the sails up, taking them down, and then repeating it over and over. Mike gave me a sly smile and said, “that’s sailing!” When on my next watch, exhausted from the day’s work, I started thinking about how sailing is a good metaphor for life. Sometimes things work out, sometimes they don’t. Sometimes you have to repeat things over and over to get it right. And, sometimes you just plan mess up, have to start over and apologize for what you screwed up (which was me the following day when I accidentally jibed the boat while trying to heave to – a big no no!). So, if you want to experience life’s necessities of patience, perseverance and determination in a tangible, visceral way, just go sailing!

And, just like life, sometimes in sailing you need a little luck. The next day in our second day of lighter winds and the strange cross swell, we needed a little luck to lift our spirits. I was down below and was just about to ask Mike in the cockpit how it was going when we heard the fishing line zing on the reel. Mike had just dropped the line in the water a few minutes earlier. We hadn’t fished at all when we had the rougher sea conditions. We slowed the boat as quickly as we could and Mike went to battle with the fish. As much line as was peeling outs we knew it was a big fish.

Mike finally got it to the surface and identified it as a dorado (mahi mahi). It took two of us to get it around to the side of the boat and get it in a position Mike could gaff it. That sucker put up a fight! Mike got the stringer in it and cut the gills so it wouldn’t bleed all over the deck. When we finally got it on deck we estimated it at about forty pounds. It was close to four feet long! It didn’t fit on the filet table, so Mike had to filet it on the deck. We got all the meat in the freezer, which we estimated at 15-20 lbs. That will certainly feed us the rest of the trip. And, we had a delicious mahi mahi dinner that night.

We’re now about six days out from the Marquesas. We’re at that point in the marathon when you passed the half way mark awhile ago, but you can’t quite see the finish line yet. We are anxious to arrive and begin our French Polynesian adventure.

-Katie

I guess we spoke too soon bragging about our luck with the great weather. A few days ago the seas started to build making it a pretty bumpy ride. It wasn’t just that the seas were big, but that they were often confused coming from different directions and sometimes steep leaving large troughs. Then, the clouds started to fill in and we had two full days of squally weather.

The squalls are usually short lived. You can see them coming on the horizon as low, black clouds with visible rain. They also show up on radar as a rain band. Looking at the radar is sometimes the only way you can adequately tell what direction or how fast they are moving. As the squally weather was all around us, there really was no way to avoid being hit periodically. So, out came the foul weather gear as we prepared to get wet.

By Saturday we had been seeing the winds sustained in the 25 knot region. We triple reefed the main and just put out the staysail. We would move along at about 6.5 knots and be prepared for higher winds when squalls hit. We’ve learned that the leading edge of a squall is where the highest winds are. As I said, you can see it coming, so during the daylight especially you can be prepared for it. The squalls brought us winds in the 30-35 knot range. I think the highest gust we saw was 37. That’s quite a bit of wind.

Our Hydrovane dutifully steered us through the mess. Whoever was on watch did have to keep a sharp eye on the wind though. When the wind gusted over 30, and especially when we got knocked a bit sideways by a swell, the Hydrovane would struggle to keep us on course and wanted to round up into the wind. A quick grab of the wheel to help the Hydrovane get us off the wind was needed a few times.

By Saturday afternoon we had the biggest seas we’ve seen on this passage. Some were at least 20 feet. It’s hard to even comprehend how big the seas are until the boat is on top of a wave and you look down into the trough below which is at least one story down. It was a wild ride to go up and down the swell. At times we got thrown around a bit, and more than once a wave pooped the cockpit. By Saturday night Mike and I were both starting to feel a bit fatigued. (Je suis tres fatigue. We have been practicing our French!)

The seas are still confused this morning but not as big as yesterday, and the wind has settled in around 23-24. The forecast says the wind and swell should start to back off around midnight tonight and we will have a period of calmer weather. I hope so!

Other than managing the boat and watching the weather, the last few days have been uneventful. After the spinnaker pole mess, we kept saying we do not want to break anything else. So, uneventful is good. I remember reading summaries in Latitude 38 in years past of boats that made the puddle jump. They always listed all of the things that broke or went wrong. We did not want to be one of those boats.

When on night watches by myself, it’s easy to let your mind wander. I was thinking about what surprised me most so far on this passage. I think I’m still surprised most that there are birds at sea this far from land. When there is nothing else to look at but ocean, birds are interesting to watch. We’ve had two hitchhiking birds. The one that stayed the longest was a brown booby who landed on the rail at the bow. He showed up one morning and stayed over 24 hrs. I guess he was tired.

In a break in the clouds last night I had a couple hours of a moonless and cloudless sky revealing the most stars you can see with the naked eye. But, last night was a treat as I saw multiple shooting stars in a short period of time. One of them was the brightest I have ever seen. It was low in the sky, got really bright and then flamed out a few seconds later as it streaked eastward. A meteor?

We’ve got 1450 miles to go. We are estimating about another 10 days or so depending on conditions. We are definitely on the home stretch and that feels good. We can’t wait to see the islands pop out of the ocean on the horizon for the first time. So exciting.

-Katie

Hello from the middle of nowhere in the vast Pacific Ocean. As of this writing it is about four hours into our eleventh day at sea. With the exception of the sea state, which at times has been quite confused with steep short period waves making it less comfortable on board, the conditions have been quite amazing. This westward sailing super highway we are on called the south east trade winds have been extremely steady and reliable in the mid teens to low twenty knot range. Our points of sail have been either beam reaching or running the majority of which has been the former.

As I write this we are beam reaching in 16 knots of wind making about 6.5 knots over the ground. So the journey has been quite amazing so far with one exception that we experienced yesterday.

It was late afternoon and we decided the conditions looked nice to start running wing on wing for the rest of the day and night. After we rigged the pole, set the jib to port and adjusted the hydrovane to keep the wind aft of the beam on the port side we took our nightly showers in the cockpit and started heating up dinner. The sun was just going down and we were excited to enjoy our meal while watching a beautiful Pacific Ocean sunset.

The problem was that we wanted to maintain as much of a westward course as possible which required us to set the hydrovane to keep the wind very close to just aft of the beam.

The hydrovane, which is a self steering device that uses the angle of the wind with respect to the boat to steer a course, has been such an amazingly reliant piece of gear since we left California that we have developed tremendous confidence in it’s abilities. In fact we are trying to come up with a name for him/her because it is like having an extra crew member on board. The first two possible options I have come up with are either Rocky or Mo Cushla (not sure about the spelling of the second one which is from the film Million Dollar Baby and means “My Darling”). Katie thought we needed a French name since we are going to French islands, but she liked Rocky too. If you are so inclined, leave us a comment with any suggestion you might have for a name. It would be fun to hear what others come up with.

Anyway, back to the story of our first calamity at sea. The makers of the hydrovane say that the boat must not be over powered for it to steer a proper course. We have experienced this in the past. We’ll have the vane and the sails set to steer the course we want according to the current strength and direction of the wind, then the wind increases in strength and the game starts to struggle to hold the course. Then an adjustment or combination of adjustments must be made to correct the issue.

Usually we have some time to make the adjustment when this happens and it’s not a big deal. In this case, we had a double whammy. The wind gusted suddenly to 25 knots and veered up higher on the nose at the same time. As a result, because we set the hydrovane to keep the wind very close to just aft of the beam, this sudden change caused the wind to move just forward of the beam so quickly neither we nor the hydrovane, because it became suddenly over powered, were able to react in time and the jib was back winded. This caused the spinnaker pole to snap in two very quickly and the jib to begin flapping angrily in the wind. Our wonderful sunset dinner plans had been destroyed in an instant.

I was devastated because this meant that we no longer had an effective way to sail with the wind aft of the beam without setting the spinnaker which I only use in light wind situations that we weren’t likely to have. Crippling our down wind sailing options could add days to our crossing which wouldn’t be the end of the world I guess, but I also really enjoy down wind sailing. Its the reason people always wish sailors “Fair winds and following seas”.

It took taking the time to have some dinner and reflect before I came up with an idea that might enable us to still use the pole and resurrect our down wind sailing abilities. Our spinnaker pole is telescoping which means it’s length can be adjusted. When it broke we had it adjusted out almost as far as it would go and it broke very near the telescoping end. So I decided to use the hack saw I had on board to cut out the broken portion and then re-insert the remaining portion of the telescoping end back into the pole. We wouldn’t be able to extend it as far but it could still work. By this time it was dark and my repair job would have to wait for daylight.

Daylight came, and with a bit of work with a c-clamp used to correct the out of round condition of the damaged end, I was able to re-insert the telescoping end back into the pole. By the way, Katie always says that I have too many tools on board the boat. This time I think she was glad that I had a c-clamp on board. After the repair, the only thing left to do was try it out. We put it up and it worked perfectly to about 90% of it’s previous capacity. What an incredible relief it was to have our down wind sailing options resurrected.

Lesson learned. Don’t sail so close to calamity without someone at the helm ready to react within seconds.

In the end, the price we paid for a bad decision wasn’t too bad after all.

Mike.

Day 10:

2475 miles to go…

We’re just starting Day 10 at sea and have surpassed our previous longest passage. We have about 2 more weeks to go, we estimate. So far we have been extremely lucky with the wind and weather and hope it continues.

Our strategy to head south paid off as we got south of 6 degrees south latitude. The wind picked up to a steady 18-22 knots from the south-southeast and we found the favorable equatorial current. We’ve been oscillating between a beam reach sail with double-reefed main, double-reefed jib and staysail and a more downwind run sailing wing and wing with the jib poled out to port. We’ve switched back and forth as the wind shifts to make as much westerly progress as possible. We’re pretty consistently seeing the boat make 6.5-7.5 knots. We keep saying this is a marathon not a sprint. We are sailing conservatively to keep the boat and crew happy.

There is quite a bit of swell running out of the south which as put it on our beam and creating some roll on the boat. It is manageable and not too uncomfortable except for the occasional large wave that hits us just right sending the boat over to starboard. If you are standing, you better have a wide stance with your knees slightly bent to keep from being thrown about the boat. This especially takes a bit of gymnastics when working in the galley, and I can feel the effects in my quads. No need to go to the gym here!

As I mentioned last time, our friend Dan on Kini Popo is out in front of us. He is sailing about a knot faster than us and making about 25 miles on us each day. So, he should arrive in the Marquesas a few days ahead of us. We are checking in with him several times a day via sat phone and all is good.

Each day has brought us blue skies with just some wispy clouds and nothing but blue ocean around us. Because the scenery is the same each day, it’s hard to fathom that we’ve already traveled over 1000 miles. There is still the occasional seabird which surprises me. I guess I need to brush up on my ornithology. Every night we get a couple of flying fish that make it onto the boat, and we have to evict the stinky buggers.

We haven’t seen a boat in several days since a container ship from Chile en route to Asia passed us a couple of miles in the distance one night. The officer on watch called us on the radio out of curiosity after we popped up on AIS. He was from Barcelona and chatted with Mike for about 10 minutes. He said he liked sailing when he was back home in Spain and was quite interested in where we had been and where we were going. He also relayed a current weather forecast to us, which was really nice. An ocean crossing in that large ship would be a whole different experience.

Mike & I have gotten in a pretty decent routine for our watches. After dinner, Mike is on from 8-midnight. I take over until 4am. Mike is back on from 4-8, and then I’m 8-noon. From noon to 8pm we’re both up together, which lets us do lunch and dinner together. It’s still hard to interrupt sleep after 4 hrs, but we are managing with a good amount of rest. On watch at night I like to listen to audiobooks or podcasts. As much as I like reading and have a ton of books on my tablet, I can’t stare at a screen for very long on the moving boat or I get a headache. Listening on the iPod in my pocket also lets me look and move around the boat easily.

We also downloaded an app with French lessons that Mike & I have both been listening to. I was finally feeling comfortable having conversations in Spanish, and now we have to learn a new language. My previous knowledge of French was to count to ten and a few words and phrases I picked up in books and movies. Although the islands have their own Polynesian language, the islands are French. We want to at least have some basic words and phrases and be able to deal with the officials in the islands. As I have traveled, I have always tried to learn a little of whatever language it is to be polite if nothing else. I’m finding French a bit easier than when I first started Spanish, as there are a lot of similar words and sentence structure between Spanish and French. The biggest challenge for me with French is the pronunciation. Mike is much better at getting it to sound right, just as he was with Spanish.

I was going to write more about our water maker and Hydrovane, but I think I will save it for next time. I’m going a bit cross eyed staring at the tiny screen and typing on my iPad while trying to keep myself from getting thrown around by the swell in the cockpit.

-Katie

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