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