Life on Board and Reaching the Doldrums

3/19/15: N 19d 34' 54", w 130d 50' 32", about one third of the way to French Polynesia from San Diego.  Life on board is developing a pattern.  I enjoy my solo sunrise, waiting for Jerry to wake.  His shift should start at 8 am, but he’s rarely able to get to bed right at 2 am when he wakes me for my shift.  He often stays with me for an hour or so, visiting, adjusting the sails, talking strategies if there is a wind shift during my watch.  There is still so much for me to learn.  When he gets up, we talk about the night, the sail set, our heading, the ever present weather, and current lat and long, celebrating each incremental change.  The winds gradually picked up yesterday and ran between 18 and 22 knots.  We were traveling in the high 7 kts. and more.  In a few days, we will get to the ITCZ (pronounced "itch" Inter-Tropical Convergence Zone) where the South Pacific and North Pacific currents meet, causing doldrums in some areas, and squalls in others.  Everything will slow way down except for the brief frenzies of the squalls.

3/21/15: N14d 24' 35", W 130d 46' 08", now about half way there.  We traveled 168 nautical miles (204 miles) yesterday, our personal record.  Trouble tonight.  Just before dark, we discovered a hairline crack in the boom, about half way out.  It could be serious trouble if it hadn't been found, a snapped boom can tear a boat up badly, but checking for things like that are a part of the daily routine.  We look for loose shackles, chafe, cracks, or other wear as a matter of course every day.  We immediately took down the sail and and lashed the boom to prevent any further strain on it.  We radioed our contact in the Marquesas and they will find a welder if we still need one by then.  Winds continue in the 18 to 22 kts. (OK, you Meridian Kids, what's that in mph? 1 knot = 1.2 miles) which is strong and we continue to speed along at 6 - 7 kts. with only the jib, which is partially furled.  We are still rocking hard with 8 - 10 foot swells coming at us from the port side.  It's just fine for sitting around, we can get plenty of core exercise without leaving our seats, but it's a bear for trying to get anything done like laundry, cooking, or boom repair!

We have been sleeping on the settee in the saloon which doesn't rock as much. Think about the difference between the end of a teeter totter and its fulcrum.  The settee is set up with a lee cloth and straps that keep you from falling out of bed in rough seas.  It's very much appreciated!  Every day brings warmer weather.  At night, I still wear my four weather bibs as the cockpit can get a heavy dousing in these waves, but gloves, hat and long johns are packed away!  Hooray!  During the day, it's t-shirts and shorts and 85 degrees in the cabin.  Unfortunately, with these waves, we can't open any of the ports or hatches as we would get doused.  We do point the dorades towards the wind to help.  They are small wind scoops that have a water catch system to help bring a breeze into the cabin without the rain.  They look like fat periscopes sticking above the deck.

3/24/15:  (Happy belated b-day, Lorraine!)  N 6d 18' 34", W 129d 56' 34", now just a third to go, seas are calm with swells still coming to port, but only 3 - 4 feet high.  Last night the squalls began.  They come every few hours.  Sometimes you can see them coming on radar, sometimes a weather cell just materializes.  Winds hit 35 kts. for about three minutes with pouring down rain, then returned to a quiet night dotted with random stars.  The big one tonight again brought high winds, but made "pouring down rain" look like a sprinkle.  The sky emptied for twenty minutes and we spent several hours stuck on the front edge of a weather system, one squall after another.

We saw another sailboat today, the first in over two weeks.  Four French citizens were also on their way to the Marquesas.  It was apparent how fast our boat is compared to others.  I think it has a Porsche for one parent and a Winnebago for the other.  We visited with them briefly, then sailed on ahead.  The doldrums await.

3/26/15: N 4d 48' 22", W 130d 22'25", the doldrums are here!  Most of the stars are obscured, but Saturn is half down the western sky and is so bright, it makes a kind of "moon river" of reflection on the black mirrored night sea.

(PS - 3/27/15 Note for those tending to worry:  the boom has been repaired and they are sailing again with both sails, getting 6 kts. of speed in only 10 kts. of wind.)

Coming to You via Radio...

This blog comes to you from our Single Side Band Radio which translates a radio signal into an email to our friend Alicia in Bellingham, who in turn will post it as a blog.  This is the same system that ham radio operators have been using for decades, now turning into email.  We are currently 541 miles south, southwest of San Diego, CA at N 24"25', W 122"15'.  Hey, you Meridian fourth graders, can you find us on a map?

We left San Diego on Tuesday, March 10th, with fuel, propane and water topped off and enough food to get us to Australia in the fall if we manage it well.  With 2838 miles to go before our next port in the Marquesas in French Polynesia,  we needed to each develop a circadian rhythm that would give us enough rest and some rejuvenation and have one of us on deck 24/7.  Our new rhythm: six hours on watch, six hours off, over and over and over.  Day one was a gentle sail.  Leaving around two in the afternoon, we spent the rest of the day on projects around the boat as the auto pilot takes the job of steering the boat.  By nightfall, however, both seas (6 to 8 foot swells) and winds (23 knots X 1.2 equals 27.6 mph) had picked up.  We tried sleeping in our bed in the cabin, me from 8 pm to 2 am, and Jerry from 2 am to 8 am.  Neither of us slept more than an hour as the swells were coming from the starboard side and the boat was rocking hard. 

On our second day, we tried out our new spinnaker.  It’s a new design in sail making and looks something like this:  [Alicia here – I hope I found a photo of the right sail! The website is:  http://www.parasailor.com/us/products/parasailor.html ]   

 It is an amazingly beautiful sail.

Our rhythm started feeling more natural as the second night gave each of us almost five hours of sleep and the following night, almost six, plus a little napping for both of us during the day.  On day three, we turned on the hot water heater for 30 minutes, about the max we could afford in electricity, as we must produce everything we use.  The refrigerator and the auto pilot take huge amounts and most boats resort to turning on the engine or bringing a gas generator, but with wind, solar, and a water generator, we haven't had the engine on since March 10th when we pulled out of San Diego harbor.  But back to those delicious showers.  With five gallons of hot water, we each had a shower and I used the last two gallons of the hot water to do laundry, which decorated the boat and whipped in the wind all day.  Oh, do I miss those exotic laundromats!  It may seem meager for water usage, but we must not only make the electricity to heat the water, but also make the fresh water with our water maker, a de-salinator that can produce 6.7 gallons of fresh water from the sea per hour.  Unfortunately, it is also a major electricity hog.

In Jerry's night shift last night, three flying fish slammed into the dodger (the hooded awning over the cockpit) and tonight, he saw the reflection of the lights of a big ship in the clouds of the horizon.  It's the closest we've come to seeing anyone since a ship passed us on the 11th.  Otherwise, there has been no sign of human life: no planes or boats of any kind for the past four days.

My sleep time starts at 8pm and I can't wait to get into bed.  I know it won't be long enough.  My night watch starts at two am when Jerry wakes me.  I feel groggy and not ready for prime time.  Even in this mild climate, getting dressed for being on deck in the night involves one pair of long underwear (much better than the three underlayers we needed when we left Washington in January!), jeans and foul weather bib overalls.  The top is the same with sweatshirt and down vest and foul weather jacket, then the life vest, at and ski gloves.  You put all this on while the boat is rocking.  It's a little like trying to get dressed while riding a bongo board!  (Try cooking on a bongo board!)  Once on deck, I lock myself in with a tether to a fitting on the cockpit and my mood immediately rises.  The stars are beautiful, the moon is just ready to break the horizon, the breeze is soft, and the night is welcoming.

Watching the navy maneuver, food, glorious food! and tracking us

 We left Los Angeles escorted out of the harbor by CJ and Dennis, our friends in the pirate ketch, carrying an exotic fruit they had given us.  It tastes like a kiwi pudding and is about five inches tall.  Absoluely delicious!

It was a short, 18 hour hop down the coast from L.A.  The winds were strong and we made good time, but were heeled over causing our towels that were hanging from the hatch to sway with the tilt.

   

We arrived in San Diego at dawn, greeted by a sealion on the entry buoy, and entered the harbor

just as the U.S.S Mobile Bay Navy Ticonderoga cruiser and its suppy ship were leaving port. A cruiser like this shoots Tomahawk guided missiles and carries a crew of 400.  She has fought several times in the Middle East and been a support ship when thousands were displaced in the Phillipines during the eruption of Mount Pinatubo in 1991. She also carries two Sikorsky helicopters which are prized for their folding tail to save space on deck.   Not quite the same as our folding bikes which save room on our deck.  She will turn 30  this year, two years older than Heron Reach.  I'll bet her upkeep is a pretty penny or two, at least a little more than our upkeep budget.

The supply ship carries everything the cruiser might need, from food and fuel, to additional armaments.  It's cranes can extend over the cruisers decks and deliver goods directly on board.

As we sailed up the channel into port, the fast, hydroplaning escorts, yellow and orange, surrounded us with guns in position.  I assume their job is making sure we weren't not planning to attack.

I liked the idea of her helping folks in the Phillipines, but I couldn't help but think what other ways I would like to see our tax dollars at work.  As a nation, our military spending is about the same as the next eleven biggest military spenders, China, Russia, Saudi Arabia, France, United Kingdom, India, Japan, Germany, South Korea, and Brazil put together.  Imagine if we put that much effort and resources for infrastructure, education, the environment, or social justice!

We are staying at a small marina, Intrepid Landings on the edge of town.  Folks here have been very welcoming. Unlike L.A., nearly everything is in walking distance and we have found every kind of service geared towards the pedestrians that boats bring in, canvas workers, welders, electronics, etc.  I am told that the reason people sail the world is so they can fix their boats in exotic places and visit exotic laundromats.  That's certainly the case for us, I am especially appreciative of the laundromat as I will now start doing it all by hand.  More on that fiasco in a later blog.

We spent a day with Jerry's old childhood friend, Dale.  Every story Jerry tells of his youth where they were doing something exciting/dangerous/stupid, Dale was involved, although it's not clear who was leading whom, sort of the blind leading the blind and at least having company when they got in trouble.  These days, they are both stable sensible adults, which the stories had suggested might never happen.  Thanks to Dale, we got our scuba gear in order, filled our air tanks, and bought fishing tackle to go with our rod (thank you Susan!) 

With the help of Jerry's nephew, Glenn, we did a major grocery shop for our final provisioning. I've never spent that much money on groceries in one day, not even in one month! We know we can buy more things in French Polynesia, but the prices are expected to be roughly triple the cost here, and the selection neglible.  Our hope is that much of this will last us until Australia, seven months from now.  We wrapped onions, potatoes and apples in newspaper, and the softer, squishier items, pears and oranges, in newspaper plus plastic, then suspended it all in hammocks in the V berth.

Does anyone know how to judge how much toilet paper two people use in 7 months?  I haven't a clue, although I read that Americans use more per person than any other country.  In any event, I'm determined to be prepared.  In the middle of all the food, are packets of bay leaves to help keep bugs away.  Food is stored in every extra nook and cranny of the boat.  The largest hanging coat closet is now shelves of food,

 

parts of the bilge are filled with extra shampoo and conditioner, and our cabin has cargp nets and a hammock for pastas, rice, crackers and more.

We leave here in the morning, headed for the Marquesas, 2838 miles away with nothing but ocean in between.  For the next month, at least one of us will be awake and on deck 24/7, the other trying to get some sleep in four hour increments. To see our progress, you can log onto the Blue Planet Odyssey www.blueplanetodyssey.com and go to "track the boats".  You will see the rest of our group leaving the Galapagos soon and you can see our progress towards the Marquesas.  We will be able to get some emails by radio if they are SHORT and have no attachments or pictures.  The system is MUCH slower than the old dial-up.  I will continue to take pictures and blog, but posting it will have to wait until we are in a port with wifi. A ful moon rising over San Diego with the setting sun still shining on it semed to portend a good voyage.

 Wish us fair winds and following seas.