The poofy tropical clouds and stronger breeze are back. Glad for the sun to lift our spirits after not much sleep and so much difficult sailing in the lighter winds. However, now we are at a steeper angle to the breeze and the heel and motion of the boat makes it unappealing to do anything except stay seated or laying down.  I’ve been taking notes to post here about but it’s a challenge even to do that. Hence, here’s a splotchy post just to get it out there because WE ARE ABOUT TO MAKE LANDFALL.

Some number of nights ago on my 4- 6AM watch I was so tired I couldn’t hold my eyes open. I felt like that on our way down to San Francisco, but haven’t felt so tired on this leg yet. The anchor has been making a lot of noise on the bow but we finally got it strapped down. There used to be a plastic piece in the locker that we couldn’t figure out how it was used and we finally know now. Learning is tiring.

Wind has been pretty consistent but we’re close hauled and waves have been breaking over the decks so no hatches can be open. If it weren’t for our little DC clip on fans we’d be toast. I made a chopped veggie salad with some boat bean sprouts, quinoa, and seared then sliced tuna quarter whole for dinner. The motion is so tiring. 

The cats have been pretty amazing but as it’s getting warmer I see their comfort levels changing. Gabi would prefer to be wrapped in a blanket to hide all the time but I’ve caught her laying out in the heat a few times. She often meows in the early morning after my shift ends at 6am for me rescue her and brought her into bed with me. Cleo just lays about wherever he falls and has lost the demanding tone from his meows for breakfast and dinner. I’m sure they both find still being at sea tiring. 

Big day! Morning had varying winds and we anxiously watched our southward progress as the northern latitudes ticked away. Paul sent a bag of goods for the big event of crossing the equator. Right as we were counting down another dark cloud took us over and this one had a big party inside. The winds started building just as king Neptune made his surprise appearance. With long white hair and beard to match, his golden staff, and his bottom half covered in shiny blue scales, he wasn’t to be mistaken for anyone else. After some laughs our attention turned- it was all hands on deck to get the second reef back in the main and put up the staysail. Rain pelted us and we couldn’t see but we laughed and swore at Neptune for such an appropriate welcome to the southern hemisphere. Our Neptune had temporarily lost his white hair and beard while he was on the bow dealing with the sails but he got back into character as the squall simmered down. Sips of rum were offered and taken, even by Griffin! Certificates were read, everyone but King Neptune/Gavin aboard graduated from a lowly pollywog to a magnificent shellback. What fun.

After that squall passed the guys noticed the sail locker on the bow had some water in it… actually it was practically full! That’s a big problem, and how and why had it happened? We’ve been reaching into the waves and lots of water was coming into the anchor locker, the drains for that go off to port and merge with the outflow water from the sail locker bilge pump. We think it had been back flowing and done a really good job of it too! We got out the big emergency pump and got a little workout getting it emptied again. Poor wet sails, windlass motor, and everything in there. We’re leaving that pump on and trusting its float switch from now on, add another lesson learned at sea to the list. 

The days and shifts at the helm and meals run together. Quiet moments punctuate time as much as exciting events. Sitting in the cockpit, thinking about Dad and staring up at the amazing stars with my boys by my side, it seems we are just where we should be. No matter how bizarre it is to feel so tiny on our little dot of a boat on this dot of water on this little dot of a planet. We got to FaceTime with some people at dad’s memorial party, so hard not to be there and so grateful for dad’s role in getting us to where we are. Exhausted, I fall into the high side settee stiffly, not counting on the lee cloth to hold me in. The fan clipped to the railing above me blows down the humid air and I don’t know if parts of me are wet from spray or sweat, both salty and not worth the fight to be free of before sleep. 

Saturday, another day at sea, it should be our last unless something goes horribly wrong. It’s hot and we’re still pounding into waves that could be a lot worse. Going so slowly is painful, especially when we’re so close to Nuku Hiva. The talk onboard is all about what we’ll do when we get anchored- swim, enjoy a level boat, open hatches for airflow, dry out, give the cats big meals, go ashore, and hope the pizza place is open. Ice cold drinks sound fantastic. I’m laying in Griffins bunk with the fan blowing on me now because earlier when I was typing on my phone in the leeward drivers seat a wave projected right over the dodger and got me totally soaking wet. I had just washed my face and sunglasses of salt too, it must be time to hide downstairs. Thinking of making some molé for dinner, sounds good but wonder if I can handle it, whenever I stand up after laying down it takes a while to get accustomed to the motion again. Cooking at sea is a whole other department of risk- food and knives rolling across the angled counter, the stove gimbaled and swinging back and forth, and opening a cupboard could result in anything flying out at you. Even ballasted and reefed the galley is barely wide enough for me to get enough of an angle to stand securely with, many times I have just fallen over as the boat rocks past my tipping point. It would be funny to watch if our meal wasn’t at stake. We’re all really looking forward to landfall!

4 Responses

  1. I know your Dad is sailing and adventuring with you. He’ll drop in at all the times you don’t expect. Have you made land? I can’t quite tell on the tracker. Hoping you get some great rest, all the pizza and beverage with ice. Thank you for sharing all of this extraordinary stuff. Hugs and we miss you!

  2. Thank you for sharing these great posts. I love your writing style and really feel the adventure. I am sure you could easily think “I’ll write something tomorrow when it is flatter, or I’m less tired..”, and I am grateful you are able to just do it. I can’t wait for the next one!

  3. No longer “pollywogs” your happy crew of “shellbacks” is on the home stretch!! It is no small feet to voyage from here to there. Congratulations on an epic puddle jump!

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