Ha! if only we’d read the instructions before we went sailing.
Good day from the fine yacht Flyer, now securely in the grips of the NE trades, 650nm SE of Oahu. We’re now entering our twelfth day at sea on this passage.
We’ve been a bit quiet lately as we’ve been adjusting the boat, sails, course, living conditions, ourselves, and our expectations to life heading into the wind on a close reach in 25-30kts. The boat is heeled more than normal (about 15 degrees of heel right now) but the slamming and rolling are at times cacophonous, often dangerous inside. Despite hand holds and a harness in the galley, we’re being tossed around the inside of the boat when we least expect it, often landing on each other or (god forbid) Pelle, who has taken her share of steps on the tail. Mountains of water are cascading down the decks, keeping us from ventilating the boat and trapping all our heat inside. It’s a nice time to go sailing!
Flyer is moving along briskly at between 7-8 knots, despite the challenging sea conditions and gusts well into the 30’s. What explains all this? Well, the standard NE trade winds have a bit more northerly component to them right now as a result of a large (but weakening) high pressure in the N Pacific. This means that not only is the wind coming from more ahead (north) than we’d like, but that there’s an even more substantial fetch for the wind-driven swells to build up. Add to this some changing currents, and you have moderately sized seas that change frequently, are often steep, and regularly breaking.
We are doing our best to make our way up through the swell, deliberately aiming a bit high (to the right) of our course, to give us a better position so the final few hundred miles will be more comfortable with wind behind the beam, we hope.
This angle to the waves brings huge amounts of blue water down the decks every couple of minutes, and with it, a few unfortunate scaled souls who almost inevitably meet their end lying on our decks. Last night I heard a loud ‘thwack!’ against the foam top surfboard lashed to our weather rail. A severely concussed large flying fish was subsequently washed to my feet in the water entering the cockpit, but he was still showing signs of life, so I sent him back home overboard. If only the others could be so lucky.
At the very least, being high of course will give us options if the wind continues to veer left on us, giving us a better chance at making it to Oahu, where cold beer and poke bowls surely await us!
Speaking of food, we’ve had a bit of a tough go of it in the culinary department lately. First off, we learned that our extermination efforts to rid Flyer of the Marquesan cockroaches back in the Tuamotus was not successful. A few days ago Kristen discovered a couple baby roaches in some of our dry goods (items that had already been opened) so they were promptly gifted to King Neptune. When fully grown these beasts are large enough to make a dent in our stores and probably would even require a passport for entry into the US. We’ve done our best to channel my mother, whose Bermudian childhood gives her the nerves of steel to nonchalantly pluck them by the antennae and gracefully place them in a toilet to be flushed. We opt for the Makita vacuum and a quick discharge overboard. Effective but much less impressive.
Secondly, we’re running low on anything ‘fresh’ in the food department. We knew this would happen on this leg given the tight supply of fresh foods in Rangiroa, but still, it’s a tough time to be so low on fresh goods considering our conditions. I think we may have a small part of a cabbage, a few onions, a couple apples, and a handful of potatoes that might barely qualify as fresh. But regardless, if you know Kristen, she will not give up trying to make something new and delicious, and she continues to delight with the things she dreams up. Last night she made an artichoke pesto (from canned artichokes) that was immediately declared “the best thing I’ve eaten on this entire boat trip” by Paul, and promptly gobbled up by us all.
Thirdly, we’re almost out of flour, which means no more fresh bread or even Kristen’s famous sourdough pancakes. Sad times indeed.
Regardless we are remaining stoic and maintain a positive attitude when the conditions try to get us down. We’ve taken our fair share of waves down hatches and (worse yet) through port lights above the boys’ bunks, but every time the cleanup and de-brief somehow are accompanied by a smile or two.
Flyer takes all the beating in stride, and it feels good to be on a boat so aptly suited to rough conditions. We try to keep it all in perspective, and remind ourselves of just how hard sailing this route would be on a Polynesian canoe! Heaps of thanks to Kara from Sentjin for lending us “Hawaiki Rising,” an incredible book about the rediscovery of Polynesian sailing craft and their remarkable navigation, as well as the resurgence of Hawaiian and Polynesian culture in the late 20th century. It’s been a wonderful read on this leg and instills a real sense of awe and amazement at what the early navigators of the Pacific could accomplish. Much respect.
A few days ago the Intertropical Convergence Zone treated us to quite a series of rains, and we took the occasion to do some more laundry and take some long showers. James and Paul really enjoyed sitting under the mainsail’s stack-pack bag, which on Flyer includes hose bibs for occasions just like this!
OK that’s it for now, back to maintaining a mildly tidy living space and bow pointed towards Oahu! Until next time…
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