0600 position 2-00N 157-29W. At anchor in 28', sand bottom. Christmas
Island
We started making noise this morning on the VHF at 0800, and the boarding
party finally showed up at 1100. We cleared the paperwork gauntlet at
1145, almost a day and half after it should have been completed. It was
quite a circus. We were anchored off of the pier when the VHF came to
life announcing that the officials were about to arrive for us to pick up.
So I jumped in the dinghy, pulled on the engine starter cord, the cord
handle came off, and the cord retreated into the engine, out of sight.
Damn! So I rowed the 200 yards to the pier, picked up two very large
officials and rowed them back to Moku pe'a. Rocky rowed in to pick up the
third very large official since they all wouldn't fit in the dinghy in one
trip. Apparently government workers are well fed on Christmas Island.
Formalities were relatively painless. No apologies for making us wait a
day and a half, but they did indicate that they were "busy" the day
before. As we ferried them in to the dock one at a time the female
immigration officer noticed a bottle of Prell shampoo in the cockpit,
admired its smell, and asked if she might have it. After making us wait a
day and a half? Right.
Upon receiving emancipation, Rocky and I moved the boat a mile and half up
the beach to the anchorage off of London. We'll have to clear out with
customs tomorrow at their office in London, it is the metropolis of island
life, and there is nothing happening anywhere near the pier. After
settling down off of London I repaired the dinghy motor and we went into
town to explore. There wasn't much happening in London either. There
were a few stores with refrigeration and Rocky bought some hot dogs and
oranges. Rocky asked if there was a pub or bar in the area, got a funny
look and the response, "If you want to drink, you buy beer in the store
and take it down to the beach." I figured out where the customs office is
and we returned to the boat, pretty much done with Christmas Island.
We'll return to town tomorrow to check out and be on our way.
One item of interest. As I was filling out the paperwork the officials
noted that I was getting the date wrong, indicating that it was the 8th of
May and not the 7th. Seems we crossed the dateline in sailing due South
from Hawaii. The country of Kiribati is stretched out over almost 2000
miles of ocean, East to West, with Christmas at its Eastern end. Makes
sense for it to be the same day throughout the country and since most of
the country is West of the 180th meridian, they tweaked the dateline way
to the East around Christmas Island. After we depart tomorrow the
calendar goes back to Hawaii time because we will cross the dateline the
other way on our sail Southwest to Suwarrow in the Cook Islands.
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Moku pe'a Report
0600 position 2-00N 157-29W. At anchor in 28', sand bottom. Christmas
Island
One of the words that came to mind the other night when we saw the loom of
the Christmas Island lights in the distance was "civilized". Now, I'm not
so sure. We had the anchor down at 0800 and at 0815 called "Christmas
Island Radio" on VHF Channel 16, as all the guidance recommend, to request
clearance into the country from customs and immigration. We spoke to
someone official on the radio, gave them vital statistics, and were told
to stand by while they contacted the officials. We are still "standing
by" a day later. We've called them numerous times on the VHF to make sure
they haven't forgotten about us. I even went ashore for a bit and tried
to get their attention that way, but the pier yard gate guard and the
Harbor Master sent me back to the boat to wait for the officials.
Civilized indeed. As you recall, we timed our departure from Hawaii so we
wouldn't arrive on a weekend requiring the payment of overtime to the
officials. Perhaps this is a conspiracy and they are planning to keep us
"standing by" until the weekend to wrest that overtime pay from us? Time
will tell. Stay tuned.
It is hot here. Africa hot. I don't remember Palmyra or Fanning, which
are only a few hundred miles away, being this hot. Perhaps it is El Nino
rearing his mischievous head? The heat of the air makes the ocean feel
great and we have both been in for a swim. The heat also makes an iced
cold beer taste great. We both broke down under the stress of the waiting
and boredom at noon and had our first beers of the trip. Definitely worth
waiting for.
As we powered into the anchorage this morning we were surprised to see two
"raft ups" of large ships anchored in the roadstead. There were four
ships in one raft and two in the other. They looked to me like fishing
factory ships with some of their fishing fleets tied to them. Almost
looks like a small version of Middle Loch in Pearl Harbor with the
mothballed ships. I had read somewhere that the sale of their
territorial fishing rights to others is a significant income source for
Kiribati. These ships are probably related.
After dinner we had movie night (The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo) and a
full night's sleep. I could get used to that.
Island
One of the words that came to mind the other night when we saw the loom of
the Christmas Island lights in the distance was "civilized". Now, I'm not
so sure. We had the anchor down at 0800 and at 0815 called "Christmas
Island Radio" on VHF Channel 16, as all the guidance recommend, to request
clearance into the country from customs and immigration. We spoke to
someone official on the radio, gave them vital statistics, and were told
to stand by while they contacted the officials. We are still "standing
by" a day later. We've called them numerous times on the VHF to make sure
they haven't forgotten about us. I even went ashore for a bit and tried
to get their attention that way, but the pier yard gate guard and the
Harbor Master sent me back to the boat to wait for the officials.
Civilized indeed. As you recall, we timed our departure from Hawaii so we
wouldn't arrive on a weekend requiring the payment of overtime to the
officials. Perhaps this is a conspiracy and they are planning to keep us
"standing by" until the weekend to wrest that overtime pay from us? Time
will tell. Stay tuned.
It is hot here. Africa hot. I don't remember Palmyra or Fanning, which
are only a few hundred miles away, being this hot. Perhaps it is El Nino
rearing his mischievous head? The heat of the air makes the ocean feel
great and we have both been in for a swim. The heat also makes an iced
cold beer taste great. We both broke down under the stress of the waiting
and boredom at noon and had our first beers of the trip. Definitely worth
waiting for.
As we powered into the anchorage this morning we were surprised to see two
"raft ups" of large ships anchored in the roadstead. There were four
ships in one raft and two in the other. They looked to me like fishing
factory ships with some of their fishing fleets tied to them. Almost
looks like a small version of Middle Loch in Pearl Harbor with the
mothballed ships. I had read somewhere that the sale of their
territorial fishing rights to others is a significant income source for
Kiribati. These ships are probably related.
After dinner we had movie night (The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo) and a
full night's sleep. I could get used to that.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Moku pe'a Report
0600 position 2-07N 157-30W. Day's run 78 miles. 3 miles North of NW
Point, Christmas Island
This has been one of the slowest and painful 24 hours that I can remember
in sailing. Our track on the GPS plotter looks like a street map of the
Old Pali Road. Wind direction has been all around the compass, but it is
primarily from the North. Not bad, since we are headed South you say, but
when there is less than 4 knots of wind, downwind is not the direction you
want to sail. It is the incessant slatting of the mainsail that is the
worst.
Normally we would have given up and turned on the engine far sooner, but
there was no point in that since we couldn't make it to Christmas Island
before sunset yesterday. Why power in there in the dark just to have to
sit offshore and wait for daylight to safely anchor? So instead we tried
to sail for eight extra hours in next to no breeze and a confused swell.
There were squalls everywhere all day, and we were engulfed by a few.
Some had wind in them and some took away what little wind there was. They
all had rain. As we closed on the island more and more birds came to
visit us. We couldn't see them in the blackness, but could hear them
calling all around us. Even though we are near the equator, it was quite
a bit chillier tonight than it has been. Perhaps it is the dampness from
all the rain, or maybe the rain is bringing cooler air down from aloft.
Both Rocky and I had sweatshirts on after dark.
The loom of Christmas Island's big city, London, came up over the horizon
at 2300, and continued to brighten as we closed in on Northwest Point. We
finally turned the engine at 0440 for the last ten miles to the island.
We can just see land as it gets light now, and we should round the point
in about an hour. If all goes as planned the hook will be down in the
roadstead anchorage at about 0900. Then we get to deal with Kiribati
Government officials. Oh boy!
Point, Christmas Island
This has been one of the slowest and painful 24 hours that I can remember
in sailing. Our track on the GPS plotter looks like a street map of the
Old Pali Road. Wind direction has been all around the compass, but it is
primarily from the North. Not bad, since we are headed South you say, but
when there is less than 4 knots of wind, downwind is not the direction you
want to sail. It is the incessant slatting of the mainsail that is the
worst.
Normally we would have given up and turned on the engine far sooner, but
there was no point in that since we couldn't make it to Christmas Island
before sunset yesterday. Why power in there in the dark just to have to
sit offshore and wait for daylight to safely anchor? So instead we tried
to sail for eight extra hours in next to no breeze and a confused swell.
There were squalls everywhere all day, and we were engulfed by a few.
Some had wind in them and some took away what little wind there was. They
all had rain. As we closed on the island more and more birds came to
visit us. We couldn't see them in the blackness, but could hear them
calling all around us. Even though we are near the equator, it was quite
a bit chillier tonight than it has been. Perhaps it is the dampness from
all the rain, or maybe the rain is bringing cooler air down from aloft.
Both Rocky and I had sweatshirts on after dark.
The loom of Christmas Island's big city, London, came up over the horizon
at 2300, and continued to brighten as we closed in on Northwest Point. We
finally turned the engine at 0440 for the last ten miles to the island.
We can just see land as it gets light now, and we should round the point
in about an hour. If all goes as planned the hook will be down in the
roadstead anchorage at about 0900. Then we get to deal with Kiribati
Government officials. Oh boy!
Monday, May 5, 2014
Moku pe'a Report
I apologize that we didn't get a post in on Saturday. We had problems
with the sat phone connection and I couldn't tell if the post went through
or not. To keep things in sequence, what follows are the posts for
Saturday, Sunday (a repeat), and today.
3 May 0600 position 8-06N 157-06W. Day's run 123 miles.
All day the wind gradually died down and backed to the North forcing us to
head up to keep the boat moving. By midnight the wind was down to 6 knots
from the NNE. It was very pleasant sailing, but we were heading 30
degrees to the East of Christmas Island, and boat speed was below 5 knots.
Fortunately, after midnight the wind started clocking and increasing and
we are now heading straight for Christmas again doing 7+ knots in about 10
knots of breeze. The forecast says that we are supposed to have 18 knots
of wind from the ENE tomorrow. We'll see. We also seem to have avoided
any ITCZ effects, at least so far. This is typically the latitude where
we would encounter the ITCZ if it is active. We see lots of confused
vertical cloud development, which is typical of the ITCZ, but so far it
doesn't appear to be affecting the wind, and we haven't had any rain or
lightning.
It is getting a lot warmer now. No more sweatshirts at night, and we are
trying to find ways to keep air circulating in the boat without risking
letting sea water in. When the wind and sea are down we are opening the
dodger window and ports on the leeward side of the boat. We've got the
shades on the hatches pulled to help keep the boat cooler during the day.
We saw a lot more bird action today with a few groups of boobies coming by
to check out the boat and the lures dragging behind us. We had 3 bird
strikes on the lures. The boobies would do a couple of fly bys before one
of them dives into the water and grabs the lure. The "snap" of the
clothes pin as the line goes taught gets my attention and causes my heart
to race for a second until I realize that it is a bird and not a fish.
Then the pull gets to be too great and the lure is jerked from the bird's
beak. He squawks a protest, shakes his head in disgust, and takes off
flying. I believe that each bird strike today was a different bird, but
boobies are incredibly stupid animals. I've seen a booby dive repeatedly
on my lures for what seems like hours. Each time the lure was pulled from
his beak until finally he hit it just right, the hook set, and he was
dragging behind the boat in the water. I pulled him in, managed to get
the hook removed without hurting the bird or myself, and threw him back
in the water. He sat there for a few seconds regrouping, then took off
and proceeded to start diving again on the lures.
At 1700 we decided on a spaghetti dinner and I was fully involved in
preparation when Rocky yelled that we had a fish on. We put the cooking
on hold, landed the fish (a nice 20 pound aku), cleaned up the bloody
mess, and got back to cooking. The last thing we needed was a fish right
then, particularly since we were committed to a different dinner. Note to
self: Pull in the fish lines before starting dinner. So we rushed
through dinner and cleaned the fish before it got dark. It'll be fresh
aku for dinner tomorrow night. The fish was caught on the same Fred
Morelli special lure that won the Molokai cruise fishing tournament in
January. Thanks Freddie!
I was sitting in the cockpit at 0200 this morning enjoying my daily cup of
coffee when a school of dolphin stopped by for a visit. It was pitch
black out so I couldn't see them, but they were so close you could hear
the quick rush of air as each took a breath and the sounds of their
splashes as they jumped around the boat. We are definitely entering an
area of more sea life. Still no fishing boats though.
4 May 0600 position 5-35N 157-23W. Day's run 151 miles
At 0600 I was just getting ready to wake Rocky to go on watch when a
squall hit. We quickly progressed from 6 knots of wind and full sail to
one reef in the main, then one in the jib, then a second reef in the main.
When things settled and the squall cleared it was blowing 18 knots from
the ENE, just like the grib files called for today. But it didn't stop
there. The wind continued to build into the early afternoon and by 1400
we had 3 reefs in the main and jib. It was probably blowing just under 30
knots. Now this is the North Pacific Ocean that I remember…
It got very bumpy during the evening and stayed that way. Rocky says it
feels like we are riding a bronco. My guess is we are in the equatorial
counter current which sets to the East and would make the seas lumpy. The
wind backed off to the high teens during the night, but boat speed stayed
over 6 knots so we left the third reef in the main and just unrolled a bit
of jib.
I should have known that praising the reliability of the sat phone the
other day would be a mistake. This morning we had a funky connection.
Some emails went out and some came in, but the software says the blog post
didn't transmit. Rocky suggested trying again, but I'm not going to get
sucked into that game again. Kara and I often gave it "just one more try"
on our 2011 cruise and once ended up with a $30 phone bill for the day and
the same problem when we were done. I remember Lori's comment the
following day, "How come you sent me the same email eight times?" Turns
out the email was sent, but it didn't register as sent on my laptop
software. So if you didn't see a blog post yesterday, Lori will let me
know and I'll resend yesterday's post tomorrow.
I'll probably jinx this too by talking about it, but I believe we have
left the ITCZ behind us. The skies are organized and mostly clear now.
There's lightning out there somewhere though. Every once in a while a
flash off in the distance lights the sky a bit. Hard to tell where it's
coming from, hopefully behind us. Not bad at all, just one big squall and
wind all the way through.
Rocky and I rehashed procedures for man overboard the other day. He said
his biggest fear is coming up on deck and finding that he is the only one
on the boat. It's my biggest fear too, not because I can't handle the
boat alone, but because my crew mate in the water has absolutely zero
chance of survival unless I do absolutely everything perfectly to effect
his recovery. Key is marking the position where you discovered him
missing, and then retracing your path exactly until you find him. We lost
a man overboard in the '87 Transpac on Merlin. We were going 15 knots at
the time with the spinnaker up, and as Murphy's Law dictates, everything
went wrong in trying to get the spinnaker and staysail down so we could go
back to pick him up. By the time we got the boat under control and turned
around, our man in the water was out of sight, and it was my job as the
navigator to find him. Terrifying. But we found him and the story had a
happy ending.
It is looking like an arrival at Christmas Island late tomorrow or Tuesday
morning. The forecast is calling for decreasing winds but we're hopeful
that they won't drop enough to slow us down.
5 May 0600 position 3-24N 157-22W. Day's run 131 miles. 85 miles to
Christmas Island
The word of the morning was "squalls". They were all around us marching
along with the wind, but if one got close enough then the wind increased
from its usual 12 knots to over 20 knots. We left a double reef in the
mainsail, which was fine for the heavy stuff, but it left us a bit under
powered in the lighter air. Jib size was easier to adjust. In 12 knots
it was fully unrolled, or close to it, and when the squalls hit we fell
off to near DDW long enough to roll the jib up with a double reef which we
shook out after the squall passed.
Fortunately the squalls ended at noon, and for the next eighteen hours
we've enjoyed lovely broad reaching in winds that slowly dropped from 12
to 6 knots. In the wee hours of the morning the wind has become so light
that we've had to reach up to keep from slatting and we are now sailing 30
degrees above the direct line course to Christmas Island.
Bravura only spent 10 days in Tahiti after winning the Transpac race to
there in '76. We had to get up to Honolulu for the "Round the State" race
that August and couldn't afford any more time in French Polynesia. The
custom built boat had been launched just a few days before the Tahiti race
started, and as you can imagine there were a number of new boat "bugs"
that we discovered during the race. One of them was that the head would
clog approximately every third use, and the "you clog it you clean it"
rule was in effect. Not me, thank you. I used the bow pulpit for my
business the entire race. We found another new boat bug a day out of
Tahiti on the way to Hawaii. One of the engine hydraulic drive hoses
started leaking where it passed through a bulkhead and we lost all of our
hydraulic fluid. We patched the hole but didn't have enough spare fluid
to refill the system. What to do… Turns out we did have a whole lot of
Wesson Oil aboard. We filled the system with it, and it worked, but we
figured prolonged use would likely damage something so we saved our engine
for motoring into the Ala Wai, and sailed all the way to Hawaii. As
Murphy's Law dictates, because we didn't have an engine we also didn't
have much wind and it was a long slow trip. We sailed right by Christmas
Island one afternoon. I could see it in the distance but we couldn't take
the time to stop because of our deadline in Honolulu. We made it to
Honolulu with 2 days to spare before the Round the State race, and the
engine worked fine entering the harbour, but we joked on the boat that we
must have smelled like a MacDonald's deep fryer.
I've been looking forward to visiting Christmas Island ever since I first
saw it on the horizon 38 years ago. Unfortunately, it's not looking like
we are going to make it into Christmas before dark today due to the slow
going.
with the sat phone connection and I couldn't tell if the post went through
or not. To keep things in sequence, what follows are the posts for
Saturday, Sunday (a repeat), and today.
3 May 0600 position 8-06N 157-06W. Day's run 123 miles.
All day the wind gradually died down and backed to the North forcing us to
head up to keep the boat moving. By midnight the wind was down to 6 knots
from the NNE. It was very pleasant sailing, but we were heading 30
degrees to the East of Christmas Island, and boat speed was below 5 knots.
Fortunately, after midnight the wind started clocking and increasing and
we are now heading straight for Christmas again doing 7+ knots in about 10
knots of breeze. The forecast says that we are supposed to have 18 knots
of wind from the ENE tomorrow. We'll see. We also seem to have avoided
any ITCZ effects, at least so far. This is typically the latitude where
we would encounter the ITCZ if it is active. We see lots of confused
vertical cloud development, which is typical of the ITCZ, but so far it
doesn't appear to be affecting the wind, and we haven't had any rain or
lightning.
It is getting a lot warmer now. No more sweatshirts at night, and we are
trying to find ways to keep air circulating in the boat without risking
letting sea water in. When the wind and sea are down we are opening the
dodger window and ports on the leeward side of the boat. We've got the
shades on the hatches pulled to help keep the boat cooler during the day.
We saw a lot more bird action today with a few groups of boobies coming by
to check out the boat and the lures dragging behind us. We had 3 bird
strikes on the lures. The boobies would do a couple of fly bys before one
of them dives into the water and grabs the lure. The "snap" of the
clothes pin as the line goes taught gets my attention and causes my heart
to race for a second until I realize that it is a bird and not a fish.
Then the pull gets to be too great and the lure is jerked from the bird's
beak. He squawks a protest, shakes his head in disgust, and takes off
flying. I believe that each bird strike today was a different bird, but
boobies are incredibly stupid animals. I've seen a booby dive repeatedly
on my lures for what seems like hours. Each time the lure was pulled from
his beak until finally he hit it just right, the hook set, and he was
dragging behind the boat in the water. I pulled him in, managed to get
the hook removed without hurting the bird or myself, and threw him back
in the water. He sat there for a few seconds regrouping, then took off
and proceeded to start diving again on the lures.
At 1700 we decided on a spaghetti dinner and I was fully involved in
preparation when Rocky yelled that we had a fish on. We put the cooking
on hold, landed the fish (a nice 20 pound aku), cleaned up the bloody
mess, and got back to cooking. The last thing we needed was a fish right
then, particularly since we were committed to a different dinner. Note to
self: Pull in the fish lines before starting dinner. So we rushed
through dinner and cleaned the fish before it got dark. It'll be fresh
aku for dinner tomorrow night. The fish was caught on the same Fred
Morelli special lure that won the Molokai cruise fishing tournament in
January. Thanks Freddie!
I was sitting in the cockpit at 0200 this morning enjoying my daily cup of
coffee when a school of dolphin stopped by for a visit. It was pitch
black out so I couldn't see them, but they were so close you could hear
the quick rush of air as each took a breath and the sounds of their
splashes as they jumped around the boat. We are definitely entering an
area of more sea life. Still no fishing boats though.
4 May 0600 position 5-35N 157-23W. Day's run 151 miles
At 0600 I was just getting ready to wake Rocky to go on watch when a
squall hit. We quickly progressed from 6 knots of wind and full sail to
one reef in the main, then one in the jib, then a second reef in the main.
When things settled and the squall cleared it was blowing 18 knots from
the ENE, just like the grib files called for today. But it didn't stop
there. The wind continued to build into the early afternoon and by 1400
we had 3 reefs in the main and jib. It was probably blowing just under 30
knots. Now this is the North Pacific Ocean that I remember…
It got very bumpy during the evening and stayed that way. Rocky says it
feels like we are riding a bronco. My guess is we are in the equatorial
counter current which sets to the East and would make the seas lumpy. The
wind backed off to the high teens during the night, but boat speed stayed
over 6 knots so we left the third reef in the main and just unrolled a bit
of jib.
I should have known that praising the reliability of the sat phone the
other day would be a mistake. This morning we had a funky connection.
Some emails went out and some came in, but the software says the blog post
didn't transmit. Rocky suggested trying again, but I'm not going to get
sucked into that game again. Kara and I often gave it "just one more try"
on our 2011 cruise and once ended up with a $30 phone bill for the day and
the same problem when we were done. I remember Lori's comment the
following day, "How come you sent me the same email eight times?" Turns
out the email was sent, but it didn't register as sent on my laptop
software. So if you didn't see a blog post yesterday, Lori will let me
know and I'll resend yesterday's post tomorrow.
I'll probably jinx this too by talking about it, but I believe we have
left the ITCZ behind us. The skies are organized and mostly clear now.
There's lightning out there somewhere though. Every once in a while a
flash off in the distance lights the sky a bit. Hard to tell where it's
coming from, hopefully behind us. Not bad at all, just one big squall and
wind all the way through.
Rocky and I rehashed procedures for man overboard the other day. He said
his biggest fear is coming up on deck and finding that he is the only one
on the boat. It's my biggest fear too, not because I can't handle the
boat alone, but because my crew mate in the water has absolutely zero
chance of survival unless I do absolutely everything perfectly to effect
his recovery. Key is marking the position where you discovered him
missing, and then retracing your path exactly until you find him. We lost
a man overboard in the '87 Transpac on Merlin. We were going 15 knots at
the time with the spinnaker up, and as Murphy's Law dictates, everything
went wrong in trying to get the spinnaker and staysail down so we could go
back to pick him up. By the time we got the boat under control and turned
around, our man in the water was out of sight, and it was my job as the
navigator to find him. Terrifying. But we found him and the story had a
happy ending.
It is looking like an arrival at Christmas Island late tomorrow or Tuesday
morning. The forecast is calling for decreasing winds but we're hopeful
that they won't drop enough to slow us down.
5 May 0600 position 3-24N 157-22W. Day's run 131 miles. 85 miles to
Christmas Island
The word of the morning was "squalls". They were all around us marching
along with the wind, but if one got close enough then the wind increased
from its usual 12 knots to over 20 knots. We left a double reef in the
mainsail, which was fine for the heavy stuff, but it left us a bit under
powered in the lighter air. Jib size was easier to adjust. In 12 knots
it was fully unrolled, or close to it, and when the squalls hit we fell
off to near DDW long enough to roll the jib up with a double reef which we
shook out after the squall passed.
Fortunately the squalls ended at noon, and for the next eighteen hours
we've enjoyed lovely broad reaching in winds that slowly dropped from 12
to 6 knots. In the wee hours of the morning the wind has become so light
that we've had to reach up to keep from slatting and we are now sailing 30
degrees above the direct line course to Christmas Island.
Bravura only spent 10 days in Tahiti after winning the Transpac race to
there in '76. We had to get up to Honolulu for the "Round the State" race
that August and couldn't afford any more time in French Polynesia. The
custom built boat had been launched just a few days before the Tahiti race
started, and as you can imagine there were a number of new boat "bugs"
that we discovered during the race. One of them was that the head would
clog approximately every third use, and the "you clog it you clean it"
rule was in effect. Not me, thank you. I used the bow pulpit for my
business the entire race. We found another new boat bug a day out of
Tahiti on the way to Hawaii. One of the engine hydraulic drive hoses
started leaking where it passed through a bulkhead and we lost all of our
hydraulic fluid. We patched the hole but didn't have enough spare fluid
to refill the system. What to do… Turns out we did have a whole lot of
Wesson Oil aboard. We filled the system with it, and it worked, but we
figured prolonged use would likely damage something so we saved our engine
for motoring into the Ala Wai, and sailed all the way to Hawaii. As
Murphy's Law dictates, because we didn't have an engine we also didn't
have much wind and it was a long slow trip. We sailed right by Christmas
Island one afternoon. I could see it in the distance but we couldn't take
the time to stop because of our deadline in Honolulu. We made it to
Honolulu with 2 days to spare before the Round the State race, and the
engine worked fine entering the harbour, but we joked on the boat that we
must have smelled like a MacDonald's deep fryer.
I've been looking forward to visiting Christmas Island ever since I first
saw it on the horizon 38 years ago. Unfortunately, it's not looking like
we are going to make it into Christmas before dark today due to the slow
going.
Sunday, May 4, 2014
Moku pe'a Report
0600 position 5-35N 157-23W. Day's run 151 miles
At 0600 I was just getting ready to wake Rocky to go on watch when a
squall hit. We quickly progressed from 6 knots of wind and full sail to
one reef in the main, then one in the jib, then a second reef in the main.
When things settled and the squall cleared it was blowing 18 knots from
the ENE, just like the grib files called for today. But it didn't stop
there. The wind continued to build into the early afternoon and by 1400
we had 3 reefs in the main and jib. It was probably blowing just under 30
knots. Now this is the North Pacific Ocean that I remember…
It got very bumpy during the evening and stayed that way. Rocky says it
feels like we are riding a bronco. My guess is we are in the equatorial
counter current which sets to the East and would make the seas lumpy. The
wind backed off to the high teens during the night, but boat speed stayed
over 6 knots so we left the third reef in the main and just unrolled a bit
of jib.
I should have known that praising the reliability of the sat phone the
other day would be a mistake. This morning we had a funky connection.
Some emails went out and some came in, but the software says the blog post
didn't transmit. Rocky suggested trying again, but I'm not going to get
sucked into that game again. Kara and I often gave it "just one more try"
on our 2011 cruise and once ended up with a $30 phone bill for the day and
the same problem when we were done. I remember Lori's comment the
following day, "How come you sent me the same email eight times?" Turns
out the email was sent, but it didn't register as sent on my laptop
software. So if you didn't see a blog post yesterday, Lori will let me
know and I'll resend yesterday's post tomorrow.
I'll probably jinx this too by talking about it, but I believe we have
left the ITCZ behind us. The skies are organized and mostly clear now.
There's lightning out there somewhere though. Every once in a while a
flash off in the distance lights the sky a bit. Hard to tell where it's
coming from, hopefully behind us. Not bad at all, just one big squall and
wind all the way through.
Rocky and I rehashed procedures for man overboard the other day. He said
his biggest fear is coming up on deck and finding that he is the only one
on the boat. It's my biggest fear too, not because I can't handle the
boat alone, but because my crew mate in the water has absolutely zero
chance of survival unless I do absolutely everything perfectly to effect
his recovery. Key is marking the position where you discovered him
missing, and then retracing your path exactly until you find him. We lost
a man overboard in the '87 Transpac on Merlin. We were going 15 knots at
the time with the spinnaker up, and as Murphy's Law dictates, everything
went wrong in trying to get the spinnaker and staysail down so we could go
back to pick him up. By the time we got the boat under control and turned
around, our man in the water was out of sight, and it was my job as the
navigator to find him. Terrifying. But we found him and the story had a
happy ending.
It is looking like an arrival at Christmas Island late tomorrow or Tuesday
morning. The forecast is calling for decreasing winds but we're hopeful
that they won't drop enough to slow us down.
At 0600 I was just getting ready to wake Rocky to go on watch when a
squall hit. We quickly progressed from 6 knots of wind and full sail to
one reef in the main, then one in the jib, then a second reef in the main.
When things settled and the squall cleared it was blowing 18 knots from
the ENE, just like the grib files called for today. But it didn't stop
there. The wind continued to build into the early afternoon and by 1400
we had 3 reefs in the main and jib. It was probably blowing just under 30
knots. Now this is the North Pacific Ocean that I remember…
It got very bumpy during the evening and stayed that way. Rocky says it
feels like we are riding a bronco. My guess is we are in the equatorial
counter current which sets to the East and would make the seas lumpy. The
wind backed off to the high teens during the night, but boat speed stayed
over 6 knots so we left the third reef in the main and just unrolled a bit
of jib.
I should have known that praising the reliability of the sat phone the
other day would be a mistake. This morning we had a funky connection.
Some emails went out and some came in, but the software says the blog post
didn't transmit. Rocky suggested trying again, but I'm not going to get
sucked into that game again. Kara and I often gave it "just one more try"
on our 2011 cruise and once ended up with a $30 phone bill for the day and
the same problem when we were done. I remember Lori's comment the
following day, "How come you sent me the same email eight times?" Turns
out the email was sent, but it didn't register as sent on my laptop
software. So if you didn't see a blog post yesterday, Lori will let me
know and I'll resend yesterday's post tomorrow.
I'll probably jinx this too by talking about it, but I believe we have
left the ITCZ behind us. The skies are organized and mostly clear now.
There's lightning out there somewhere though. Every once in a while a
flash off in the distance lights the sky a bit. Hard to tell where it's
coming from, hopefully behind us. Not bad at all, just one big squall and
wind all the way through.
Rocky and I rehashed procedures for man overboard the other day. He said
his biggest fear is coming up on deck and finding that he is the only one
on the boat. It's my biggest fear too, not because I can't handle the
boat alone, but because my crew mate in the water has absolutely zero
chance of survival unless I do absolutely everything perfectly to effect
his recovery. Key is marking the position where you discovered him
missing, and then retracing your path exactly until you find him. We lost
a man overboard in the '87 Transpac on Merlin. We were going 15 knots at
the time with the spinnaker up, and as Murphy's Law dictates, everything
went wrong in trying to get the spinnaker and staysail down so we could go
back to pick him up. By the time we got the boat under control and turned
around, our man in the water was out of sight, and it was my job as the
navigator to find him. Terrifying. But we found him and the story had a
happy ending.
It is looking like an arrival at Christmas Island late tomorrow or Tuesday
morning. The forecast is calling for decreasing winds but we're hopeful
that they won't drop enough to slow us down.
Friday, May 2, 2014
Moku pe'a Report
0600 position 10-09 N 157-17W. Day's run 150 miles.
Ever since we cleared the effects of the islands we've been heading five
to ten degrees above the rhumbline course to Christmas. The grib files
showed slightly stronger and more Easterly winds to the South and I wanted
to bank some Easting so we could fall off a little when the winds
increased and clocked. More recent weather files aren't showing quite as
much wind ahead and I think we have enough in the bank, so at 0600 we
turned right to the direct heading for Christmas, and we plan to head
straight in from here.
The wind slowly increased all morning to 15 knots at noon, so we put a
reef in the jib to go along with the one in the main and the boat stood up
straighter without slowing down any. Shortly thereafter the wind started
a decreasing trend so we shook the jib reef at 1300, main reef at 1600,
and the speed got down to near 4 knots at 2200 when the wind started to
come up again. Since then we've been zipping along at full speed under
full sail. No change in wind direction.
We passed the halfway point to Christmas at 1345. Should be a Monday or
Tuesday arrival at this rate.
The current is surprisingly variable out here. The autopilot is driving
to a compass course, but the boat's track over the ground slowly turns
left or right over the hours as the East/West current component changes.
I wouldn't have expected that kind of current variability out here in the
middle of the empty Pacific. If we had human helmsmen we would chalk up
the track changes to differences in driving style, but that variable is
removed with auto driving.
Our satphone email connection has worked perfectly for four days running.
I have been reluctant to say anything for fear of jinxing it, but this
aspect of the journey is remarkably different than my last trip South.
The connection is a team effort with Rocky in the cockpit aiming the phone
at a geostationary satellite over the equator and me at the computer
pushing buttons. When it goes smoothly, which it has so far, incoming and
outgoing emails all get transferred in about a minute and we are done for
the day. When it doesn't go smoothly, as was often the case for Kara
and me in 2011, we'd spend hours trying to make the connection. The
hardware and software on my end hasn't changed. I wonder if Inmarsat, who
operates the satellites, and/or Astrium, my service provider, have
improved things on their end? Or, maybe we have just been lucky so far…
I skipped the cribbage game yesterday to try to change my mojo after Rocky
skunked me the day before. It seems to have worked as I eked out a win
today. He remains one game up in the tally.
Alas, no fish again today and no fishing boats or birds sighted either.
We've got great lures and we are swapping them out to present a variety of
tantalizing tidbits to entice even the most finicky fish's pallet. Must
not be many big fish in this part of the ocean. We have seen some flying
fish though, and this morning at 0400 I saw what looked like a glow stick
lying on deck in the darkness. A flash light revealed a dead flying fish.
Must have been full of some kind of phosphorescence that was not pleased
about its host's untimely demise. He kept right on glowing until it got
light at 0500.
I could also see lightning flashes off to the South just before dawn.
Must be the Inter tropical Convergence Zone, or ITCZ. I am sure hoping we
don't have to deal with lightning.
Ever since we cleared the effects of the islands we've been heading five
to ten degrees above the rhumbline course to Christmas. The grib files
showed slightly stronger and more Easterly winds to the South and I wanted
to bank some Easting so we could fall off a little when the winds
increased and clocked. More recent weather files aren't showing quite as
much wind ahead and I think we have enough in the bank, so at 0600 we
turned right to the direct heading for Christmas, and we plan to head
straight in from here.
The wind slowly increased all morning to 15 knots at noon, so we put a
reef in the jib to go along with the one in the main and the boat stood up
straighter without slowing down any. Shortly thereafter the wind started
a decreasing trend so we shook the jib reef at 1300, main reef at 1600,
and the speed got down to near 4 knots at 2200 when the wind started to
come up again. Since then we've been zipping along at full speed under
full sail. No change in wind direction.
We passed the halfway point to Christmas at 1345. Should be a Monday or
Tuesday arrival at this rate.
The current is surprisingly variable out here. The autopilot is driving
to a compass course, but the boat's track over the ground slowly turns
left or right over the hours as the East/West current component changes.
I wouldn't have expected that kind of current variability out here in the
middle of the empty Pacific. If we had human helmsmen we would chalk up
the track changes to differences in driving style, but that variable is
removed with auto driving.
Our satphone email connection has worked perfectly for four days running.
I have been reluctant to say anything for fear of jinxing it, but this
aspect of the journey is remarkably different than my last trip South.
The connection is a team effort with Rocky in the cockpit aiming the phone
at a geostationary satellite over the equator and me at the computer
pushing buttons. When it goes smoothly, which it has so far, incoming and
outgoing emails all get transferred in about a minute and we are done for
the day. When it doesn't go smoothly, as was often the case for Kara
and me in 2011, we'd spend hours trying to make the connection. The
hardware and software on my end hasn't changed. I wonder if Inmarsat, who
operates the satellites, and/or Astrium, my service provider, have
improved things on their end? Or, maybe we have just been lucky so far…
I skipped the cribbage game yesterday to try to change my mojo after Rocky
skunked me the day before. It seems to have worked as I eked out a win
today. He remains one game up in the tally.
Alas, no fish again today and no fishing boats or birds sighted either.
We've got great lures and we are swapping them out to present a variety of
tantalizing tidbits to entice even the most finicky fish's pallet. Must
not be many big fish in this part of the ocean. We have seen some flying
fish though, and this morning at 0400 I saw what looked like a glow stick
lying on deck in the darkness. A flash light revealed a dead flying fish.
Must have been full of some kind of phosphorescence that was not pleased
about its host's untimely demise. He kept right on glowing until it got
light at 0500.
I could also see lightning flashes off to the South just before dawn.
Must be the Inter tropical Convergence Zone, or ITCZ. I am sure hoping we
don't have to deal with lightning.
Thursday, May 1, 2014
Mokupea Report
0600 position 12-39N 157-07W. Day's run 158 miles.
Wind is still out of the ENE and varies up and down from 12 knots. Things
are so steady that I don't think either one of us has had to go forward or
adjust anything in the last 24 hours. We have picked up a little chop
from the South though, which is making the boat ride a bit like a bronco
as we charge in that direction. The chop is not big enough to make us
pound, but the smooth ride is gone and there is now water on deck. This
is more typical Pacific Ocean conditions. We are dry as a bone below and
in the cockpit though. Rocky says it's the driest boat he's ever been on.
It is for me too.
We saw our first sign of humanity with the lights of a ship crossing ahead
of us at 0100. My guess is a merchant vessel on its way from Asia to the
Panama Canal.
Yesterday we fished with Randy Reed's lures, and today we fished with Fred
Morelli's lures. No luck with either. Fish must be on Spring Break. We
did have a tropic bird stop by for a visit during the afternoon and he
took a brief interest in the lures.
It is nice to break up the monotony of a long trip like this one to Tonga
with some stops along the way. Our first possible stopping point is in
the Line Islands, about 1000 miles South of Hawaii and near the equator.
There are decent anchorages in that group at Palmyra, Fanning, and
Christmas. Christmas is the only one that I haven't been to, and I don't
want to stop at the other two, so Christmas it is!
I explained in an earlier post why Palmyra was out; It's just too much
trouble with all the restrictions. I've sailed to Fanning twice before.
The anchorage just inside the lagoon entrance is in calm water and is
relatively safe, but the tide rips in and out at up to 4 knots so you'd
better have your anchor well set. The thing I remember most about Fanning
though is that the population was half Catholic and half Protestant, and
the two groups didn't get along.
Copra harvesting was one of the few sources of income for Fanning
islanders during our visit there 28 years ago. Most of the population
lived in the village on the South side of the lagoon entrance pass, and
most of the copra was harvested from the motu on the North side of the
pass. This necessitated daily trips back and forth for the workers. We
noticed two boats used for transport though instead of one and asked why.
"Protestant boat and Catholic boat", we were told, and neither group would
be caught dead on the other's boat. There was also a drought going on
while we were there, and the less affluent Protestants had to beg water
from the Catholics. It was quite a scandal with the shamed Protestants
and gloating Catholics. How surreal that Western religion could cause
such strife in what was otherwise an idyllic tropical paradise.
Wind is still out of the ENE and varies up and down from 12 knots. Things
are so steady that I don't think either one of us has had to go forward or
adjust anything in the last 24 hours. We have picked up a little chop
from the South though, which is making the boat ride a bit like a bronco
as we charge in that direction. The chop is not big enough to make us
pound, but the smooth ride is gone and there is now water on deck. This
is more typical Pacific Ocean conditions. We are dry as a bone below and
in the cockpit though. Rocky says it's the driest boat he's ever been on.
It is for me too.
We saw our first sign of humanity with the lights of a ship crossing ahead
of us at 0100. My guess is a merchant vessel on its way from Asia to the
Panama Canal.
Yesterday we fished with Randy Reed's lures, and today we fished with Fred
Morelli's lures. No luck with either. Fish must be on Spring Break. We
did have a tropic bird stop by for a visit during the afternoon and he
took a brief interest in the lures.
It is nice to break up the monotony of a long trip like this one to Tonga
with some stops along the way. Our first possible stopping point is in
the Line Islands, about 1000 miles South of Hawaii and near the equator.
There are decent anchorages in that group at Palmyra, Fanning, and
Christmas. Christmas is the only one that I haven't been to, and I don't
want to stop at the other two, so Christmas it is!
I explained in an earlier post why Palmyra was out; It's just too much
trouble with all the restrictions. I've sailed to Fanning twice before.
The anchorage just inside the lagoon entrance is in calm water and is
relatively safe, but the tide rips in and out at up to 4 knots so you'd
better have your anchor well set. The thing I remember most about Fanning
though is that the population was half Catholic and half Protestant, and
the two groups didn't get along.
Copra harvesting was one of the few sources of income for Fanning
islanders during our visit there 28 years ago. Most of the population
lived in the village on the South side of the lagoon entrance pass, and
most of the copra was harvested from the motu on the North side of the
pass. This necessitated daily trips back and forth for the workers. We
noticed two boats used for transport though instead of one and asked why.
"Protestant boat and Catholic boat", we were told, and neither group would
be caught dead on the other's boat. There was also a drought going on
while we were there, and the less affluent Protestants had to beg water
from the Catholics. It was quite a scandal with the shamed Protestants
and gloating Catholics. How surreal that Western religion could cause
such strife in what was otherwise an idyllic tropical paradise.
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