Polliwogs, Shellbacks, the Southern Cross and LAND HO!

On Sunday, March 29th at 6:15pm, we morphed from Pollywogs into Shellbacks! In other words, we crossed the equator into the South Pacific!  We celebrated with a toast of gratitude to Neptune.  Not  surprisingly, it doesn't look any different out there, but we have a powerful sense of the accomplishment for crossing this imaginary line!  Tonight we saw the  Southern Cross  for the first time, the smallest of the 88 named constellations. It points to the south celestial pole and feels like a different world. But the next day, it was back to squalls coming on the horizon.

 We  have traveled 4223 nautical miles since we left Bellingham, all on the largest body of water in the world.  The Pacific Ocean (North and South) cover more area than all of Earth's continents put together.  It is surrounded by the Ring of Fire, hundreds, if not thousands of both active and dormant volcanoes.  There are over 20,000 islands in the Pacific Ocean, most of which are concentrated in the south or west where we are headed.  Some of the islands are associated with their neighboring continent, like Japan, in the east, the Aleutians in the north, or Vancouver Island and the Gulf and San Juan Islands in our own backyard.  Another type is the high volcanic island such as the Hawaiian Islands or the Marquesas.  Finally, there are the sandy coral  atolls like the majority of the islands of the South Pacific.  It is this type most in danger by the rising seas of climate change. 

It  is astounding to us, as we cross this vast ocean, to realize  that we have raised the temperature of such a gargantuan mass and changed its acidity level with our high carbon uses!  I try to think of dozens  of things I can do, from skipping that airplane trip (a major carbon expenditure!), to changing to LED bulbs.  Students at the Highline School District (hi, all you amazing students!) brain stormed a list of things everyone could do and then looked for specific ways they could alter their behavior to help the Earth.  Among the items they came up with: buy local products, buy produce in season, ride your bike to work/school, buy organic (much less carbon used in this farming method, plus, your grocery dollar isn't being spent on dangerous pesticides!), play outside instead of playing electronic games, and much more.  We must each change our habits, and it feels good when we do.

4/2/15, S 8d, 23' 24"', W 136d 37' 04":  we are almost there, just about 160 miles to go! We have been busy making sure both water tanks are full as the water maker doesn't process dirty harbor water very well (every harbor has relatively dirty water.) We're also repairing and installing our screens to ward off the local mosquitos that may carry dengue fever, a very nasty bug.  We are hoping for a good rain before we arrive to give everything a nice fresh water rinse.  The entire outside of the boat is encrusted with salt.  J Boats are known as a "wet boat" meaning they are low to the waterline and we often get water coming on deck or splashing into the cockpit. When the surface has dried, you can see the residual salt crystals covering everything. 

4/4/2015 Hiva Oa! We arrived Saturday morning around 5 am after slowing down through the night so as to arrive in daylight.  As we approached the island, the full moon was setting behind it and the sun ready to rise.  It is an exquisite place, known as the most beautiful island in Polynesia.

We have been busy connecting with the other participants of the Blue Planet Odyssey (cornellsailing.com).Each day has included opportunities to see more the islands and its people. On Saturday night, we went to mass at the local church.  Many of the women wore flower headdresses, much like a westerner might wear a new hat to Easter service at church, although these were made especially for the occasion.  The 8 foot tall crucifixion statue was decorated with a 20' garland that must have taken many hours to complete.  All the flowers come from the gardens of families from the church.  There is no nursery or place where flowers are imported from. The regional bishop performed the mass, first in Marquesan, then in French. Of the 2 1/2 hour service, singing in many part harmony by the congregation was ethereal!  Additionally, About 15 families brought their infants forward to be baptized by the bishop, it seemed to be a tradition, likely, they represented all the children born on the island since Christmas. 

Today we had the opportunity to travel into the interior and see some of the Tiki statues that were part of the early religion here, before the French brought Catholicism and forbade the worship of their old gods.  

The views of the island from its crest were amazing!

In town, the little store has onions, potatoes, and a couple of things I've never seen before.  There is no need to have much more as everyone gardens.  Many things just grow in the forest and on its edge, including avocados, breadfruit, mango, guava, limes, and much more. Coconuts are everywhere and many homes have drying racks in the yard to prepare the meat for sale.  The people here import very little and get by with what can be made locally. 

We have been excited and VERY appreciative to have a shower on shore, it's a cement bunker which comes up to my chin.  The inside is covered in nearly an inch of green slime ( you shower with your sandals on) and the pipe that comes across the top has no hot water, but whatever temp comes down the hillside.  There is a tree next to it to hang your clothes.  It was a luxury as far as we were concerned, and the water temp was perfect for this HOT clime. Tomorrow night we will leave for another island. Much to do and learn.

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.  

It was a dark and stormy night, mega yachts, and pistol shrimp

Coming out of San Francisco, it was a dark and stormy night, blowing 29 knots and gusting to 35 (knots X 1.2 = miles per hour, so, 35 knots X 1.2 = 42 mph!).  We were speeding about 15 miles off the coast of Big Sur at four in the morning when we accidentally jibbed, letting the boom whip across the boat.  In the process, the main sheet wrapped around the binnacle and tore it loose from the deck, sending the large main compass skidding across the cockpit and leaving the pedestal weaving back and forth about a foot in each direction.  Auto pilot was gone.  The compass mount was bent and parts of the housing had disappearred into the night.  We immediately dropped the sail and, bobbing in the high seas, we lashed the wheel back into place as best we could.  We were now able to steer, but the auto pilot wasn't responding, probably because the entire wheel could still wiggle back and forth.  We quickly tried turning back to motor north to duck in at Monterey Bay, the nearest port, about three hours away, but the storm was coming from the north and green water was pouring over us. We were going across the currents and it was stressing the now fragile steering. To make matters worse, I didn't realize that I had put the hatches in the vent mode, rather than shutting them firmly.  While we were getting drenched in the cockpit, water was pouring into the cabin down below dousing the cushions and giving my phone a salt water bath.  By dawn, we decided that going north was just too hard on the steering and we turned south.  The weather calmed through the day and by mid afternoon, we came into San Simeon.  It is a quiet bay which is mostly state park and we were the only boat there.  It was a beautiful anchorage and we had both been up for almost 35 hours.  After a beautiful sunset, sleep was most welcome. The red skiy at night was sailors' delight.

The next day we took stock and were glad to find the damage was to replaceable parts, rather than the boat itself.  Our knome, Lief, (I think he's Swedish, hence the Knome rather than the more common Gnome) is checking out where the compass should be.

We aligned the parts as much as bent metal would allow, got the auto pilot working again, and enjoyed our very distant view of Herast's castle up on the hill.  The cushions dried out, but the phone was dead.

Three more days at sea brought us to Los Angeles, which feels more like a foreign country than I imagined.  We ordered the needed parts, worked on projects, and visited with family and friends.  One such evening was with Lisa and Marty Falk, total strangers, who had contacted us from L.A. when we were still in Bellingham to offer us whatever we might need, showers, a place to send parts, whatever.  The Falks have a newer version of our boat, a J-40, and were able to appreciate each change and upgrade we had done to the boat.  It was a delight to be able to show her off, even with the pedestal removed and a gaping hole in the cockpit floor.

Both Jerry and I had chores on high:

We have abandoned the many layers required for sailing on a January night in the northwest.  We had five layers on the bottom (silk, wool, polypropolene, cotton, Gortex) and six layers on top, which added  a down jacket. Now we are comfortable in a T-shirt!

Los Angeles has very little recyclying.  We are docked next to a park which has about 20 garbage cans throughtout the park, but only one recycling can.  This seems to be common everywhere we go.  Southern California has been in a serious drought for several years now, but the park lawns are over watered creating a muddy mess, many of the sinks and toilets leak, none are low flow, and the "rivers" of the city are dry cement troughs.  On the good side, they have a bottle deposit to encourage people to return their bottles and cans to the store which then recycles them, but many people abandon them, saying, "that's how the homeless get heir income".  In fact, folks comb through the garbage daily, pulling out bottles and cans to reclaim the 5 or 10 cents they bring.

But no homeless are to be found across the harbor from us where three mega yachts are moored.  Waving the flag of the Caiman Islands, infamous as a tax haven for the very rich, the yachts offer large crews in their matching outfits to provide every luxury for their owners.  The "Invictus", for example, is 216 feet long and six stories tall.  It sports a pool, hot tub, gymnasium, theater, elevator, and fold out swim deck and cabana on the stern.  You can charter this beauty for a mere $476,000 per week, plus expenses, like filling up the 51,0000 gallon fuel tank.  Unlike our boat, it has no solar panels or wind generator.  All of its energy is provided by fossil fuels.

On the lighter side of life, we have been enjoying being serenaded by the stacato tic, tic, tic of the pistol shrimp.  These lopsided crustaceans stun their prey by snapping their over sized claw, creating a popping bubble which makes a loud noise.  You can hear this through the hull of the boat, tic, tic, tic day and night.  It's rather soothing.

For our last days in LA, we moved to the Pacific Mariners Yacht Club where we were warmly welcomed, in stark contrast to our first weeks at the park where a class in Hospitality 101 was sorely needed.  Our neighbors here are smart, quirky and easy going.  We fit right in. You can just see the sail cover and wind vane of Heron Reach behind their wooden ketch/pirate boat.

We leave for San Diego in a day or two, our final stop before heading into the Pacific.  We have taken too long to meet our group in the Galapagos as planned so will head directly to the Marquesas Islands in French Polynesia.  Before we go, we will create a link for you to be able to follow the boat and see our progress.  So, stay tuned!