Archive for May, 2010

Reflections

Friday, May 28th, 2010

It’s hard to believe we’ve been in Hilo for less than a week; it seems like we’ve been here for twice that. After the simple routine of days at sea, sleepy Hilo is a wonderland of diversion, conversation, and culinary delights!

On our long passage, one day ran into the next, and we were often unclear as to whether something had happened yesterday or the day before, or maybe even 3 days ago? Instead of “Monday” or “Thursday”, we’d say, “the day we showered” or “the day you made tuna salad”. And as our lives were dominated by the weather, we now think of the sequence of the passage in these terms:

– The first 3 days, after we cleared Cabo (the sea sick days)
– The remainder of the first week, when it was sunny (the blissful days)
– The first period of strong winds, big seas, and complete cloud cover (the hellish days)
– The few days when things calmed down, and we got sunshine (the respite)
– The second period of rough weather (no longer remarkable enough to be called anything)
– The last day at sea and the morning we tied up in Radio Bay

We lived in this strange zone of altered time. We ate when we were hungry (not often) and slept when we were tired (quite a bit). Indeed, the hour on the clock grew increasingly meaningless as we travelled west, with the sun setting after 10pm. We looked forward to making landfall (or rather, to a lack of motion!), but “arrival” was such an abstract concept. We didn’t know exactly when it would happen or what it would be like, so it seemed unreal. As the miles ticked down, we cognitively understood that there was an island 135, then 70, then 28 miles ahead, but we saw nothing but sea and clouds. Maybe there would be nothing there when the GPS read 0 miles to go?

In Two Years Before the Mast, Richard Henry Dana wrote of homecoming after a long voyage at sea. He said that “home” was something sailors dreamed of and yearned for every day, but then as they neared their home port, they felt oddly unaffected. Though we were only out for a few weeks, we went through this as well. You’d think we’d be ecstatic as we came within a day of landfall, but we just felt numb. Capn Amnesia, who just a couple days before had been nauseous and swearing in frustration at the big seas, actually broke down and cried- real tears!- in sadness that the journey was ending! I think the strange emptiness we felt was the start of forgetting. Our “time without time” was ending, and we were going back to civilization and the complexities of life in port.

Even while we were making the passage, our recollections of it were hazy, and with each day back on land our memories grow foggier. A week from now, I expect we’ll be left with only a vague mood, just like you might pause for a moment in the afternoon and suddenly recall that, that very morning, you’d awoken from a strange, fantastic dream, the details of which have been lost to you. But the dream conjured an emotion that washes over you again, an unnameable mix of joy, melancholy, and nostalgia….

This could explain why sailors cannot be trusted to accurately recall the details of their journeys. Here at Radio Bay, we’re in the company of a handful of other boats that have just made the same crossing. Almost all have ripped sails (one boat shredded 5 sails on the way over!), some lost parts of their rigging, one blew out their engine, and all have a long list of things to fix before the next passage. Before we set out, we’d all been told that this was “the easiest passage in the world”, and then we got out there and were battered and baffled. At first we thought we’d been lied to, but as one man noted, “It’s like childbirth. If you remembered it accurately, you would never do it twice.” Crossing oceans, like bearing children, makes liars of us all.

It’s comforting to compare wounds and trade stories with the other crews. It was particularly rewarding to hear from Harry on Rhiannon, who just completed a circumnavigation, that indeed, it was quite rough out there. And it’s been great to spend time with Dennis and Grover of Shamaness, who were our main radio buddies on the way over. For the first few days, no one asked, “So what do you do for work?” or “Where are you from?”. We could talk of nothing but the passage, sharing our personal editions of the same story.

So what will we remember of the passage? The dolphins and the flying fish. The whales, and the albatross. The sapphire blue water. The freedom of being surrounded by nothing but ocean, suspended in time.

We’ve Made It!

Tuesday, May 25th, 2010

And we’re in Hilo too! Tied up in Radio Bay on Monday morning. A hot shower, sushi lunch, and living on a stable surface… does life get any better?!

Will try to post more details and photos soon, but right now our priority is eating. I think I’m down to just 10 pounds more than my weight as given on my driver’s license. Time to pack some junk back into the trunk!

Total Miles: Over 2800
Sailing Time: Something like 22 days, 13 hours. A 5.1 knot moving average which is super fast for us!
Beer Remaining: I’m not sure, but it’s rapidly disappearing!

Two weeks out (of our minds)

Saturday, May 15th, 2010

Unfortunately last Sunday we hit a new weather region: totally cloudy and 20-30 knots of wind. The worst part was the 10-12 foot confused seas (NW swell meets NE wind) which has made for a pretty uncomfortable ride that has persisted for the past week. Luckily the winds and seas have started abating but we’ve still yet to see more than 5 minutes of sunshine.

We’ve tried to remain upbeat but have been disappointed by the lack of good beer drinking conditions. One technique we use to stay positive is the “it could be worse” principle. For instance “it could be worse, you could be working”. However, things have deteriorated to the point that our current favorite is, “it could be worse, you could be in the Donner party”. People were always telling us that this is a “milk run” and “the easiest passage in the world”. In retrospect we wish we would have slapped those people instead of letting them inflate our hopes.

FantaSeas: Susan’s been wishing there were a pill she could take that would provide all nutrition and make it so she’s never hungry and never has to eat (she’s been borderline seasick the entire trip). Capn Landyacht has been fantasizing about buying a VW Bus and moving our mode of travel ashore.

The silver lining to all of the clouds is that we’ve been making good time and today we’re celebrating less than 1000 miles to go to Hilo. We also have reports from a boat a couple hundred miles ahead of us that there is indeed some sunshine out there. Capn Ham Radio is running the Hawaii Puddle Jumpers net so every night we get to talk to the other boats on the same route which helps us feel connected.

Miles to go: 999
Beers remaining: 75
Times Susan’s been awoken by saltwater squirting through the hatch as we take a big wave on deck: 2

In the Press

Tuesday, May 11th, 2010

Back in February, a very good looking family graced the pages of Cruising World…click here for a pdf of the article.

One Week Out

Saturday, May 8th, 2010

We’ve been underway for a week now! Thankfully we’re in much better shape in terms of seasickness. Although we’re not tossing back margaritas, neither are we tossing up lunch, so we can’t complain.

PregnanSea : While we were still in the throes of seasickness, Capn Cookie Tosser asked in horror, “Is this what it’s like being pregnant?” I replied that there are a lot of similarities:

1. You’re nauseated
2. You’re always tired, if not exhausted
3. You have weird food cravings and aversions (personally I can’t get enough of Trader Joe’s Indian fare but can’t stand the thought of cheese)
4. Your mind is dominated by two thoughts: “What have I gotten myself into?” and “I’m gonna kill the man that talked me into this.”

FantaSeas: you’d think we’d be worried about just making it to Hawaii, but really, what’s most concerning is what comes after Hawaii. Will we be up for another twenty-something day passage within 4-6 weeks of arriving? Todd admitted that he’d been fantasizing about how he could fly back to California and get me to bring the boat back without him. “Wow, me too!” I confided, “I’d been thinking maybe I could get Rick and Marcus to help you bring the boat back. Todd snickered, “my plan was to bait you by getting a couple hot young guys to crew with you.” Huh. When I asked what he’d do if I ran off with one of these guys and the boat, he just shrugged and said, “Eh.”

As I said, luckily we’re feeling better now. Capn Iron Stomach had a “break-through” today; not only did he fix himself “pizza” (sandwich bread with tomato sauce and cheese), he ate it with beer while reading a book below decks. He was so pleased with his progress that he celebrated by eating a half pound of whoppers (malted milk balls). Ironically, this resulted in a tummy ache.

Miles to go: 1895
Beers remaining: 85

Seasick

Tuesday, May 4th, 2010

Our friend Rick says, when you’re homesick it’s because you want to go home and when you’re seasick it’s because you want to go to sea. Oh, if only that were the case!

We left the anchorage at Frailes mid-day on Saturday May 1st bound for Hilo, Hawaii. We had good sailing until that night when we were left with no wind and washing machine seas off of Cabo San Lucas. Knowing there had to be wind ahead around the cape we motored for a couple of hours and at midnight were sailing again.

The last couple of days have been mostly, well, miserable! Although conditions have been great with just the right amount of wind our seasickness has limited our activities to sleeping, laying on the cabin sole wishing we could sleep, dry heaving over the rail, and cursing the ijiit who bought 4 cases of beer and only 4 bottles of Gatorade.

On our 2nd day out a brown booby circled the boat a number of times before landing on our new life lines for a rest. Although we knew our kindness would be repaid in guano neither of us had the heart to shoo the little guy off. He preened and rested for several hours and then left us, but not before paying his bill in spurts on the foredeck.

The other night I was laying on the cabin sole between checking the horizon for ships while Capn Sweet Dreams was asleep in Sequoia’s berth. Suddenly he raised himself up and shouted “Ahoy there!” Confused I replied “I’m right here” as I was a mere 5 feet away from him. He mumbled something incoherent in his half asleep state so I said sternly “you’re hallucinating, go back to sleep, and next time buy more Gatorade.”

Thankfully we seem to be acclimating now and surprisingly this is one thing that Todd has done faster than I. We’re hopeful that we’ll soon feel good enough to add watching movies, reading books, and drinking beer to our vast daily repertoire.

Miles to go: 2350
Beers remaining: 90 (sigh)
Dead squid on deck: 2

Almost (but not quite) Gone

Saturday, May 1st, 2010

Left La Paz Tues 4/27, great sail to Caleta Lobos and a quiet night at anchor.

Weds 4/28 went thru the Cerralvo Channel, but were surprised by southerly winds; still managed to sail most of the way, and decided to anchor at La Ventana, where we spent another day waiting for the winds to change. Unfortunately, they did at about 11pm- came strong from the west (reported to be 40 kts)! Had an uncomfortable night but decided to wait it out. Later heard of two boats on the rocks/beach at Muertos, on the other side of the point we were at.

Awoke to screaming winds and large swells, so we decided to get out of there. Had our walkie-talkie headsets on for the operation. Capn Calm N. Collected’s commentary: “Oh my god! NO! Ahhh! Oh, f#%*!” I thought he might be hurt, praying “God, don’t let it be his hands! He can’t support me if he can’t type!” Turns out we were just paying out anchor chain unintentionally. Got the anchor up with the only victim being our heavily chafed snubber, got the hell out, and had a good sail down to Los Frailes.

Sat 5/1: Still deciding if we strike out this afternoon or wait til the morning. Next landfall Hilo?
Capn Junk N. DaTrunk’s latest trick: sitting on the auto-pilot remote. He puts down the remote, forgets it, sits on it, then exclaims in shock when the auto-pilot goes wild.

Miles to go: 2675
Beers remaining: 90.