Author: Pete

Location: 08°35.981S 120°27.125W

Date: 11:00 April 12 to 11:00 April 13

 

Day 14 at sea. Two weeks! Can you imagine spending two weeks in the same 2 rooms of your house? I suppose if you live in Northern Michigan in the winter, that’s not too much of a stretch of the imagination. We discussed our lives in the real world and cited all the things we’d be getting done in two weeks of our normal efficient worker bee cadence. It seems like our days out here go so fast though. We have our routines, our duties aboard the boat, food to cook, dishes to do, then time to do our own things. Still astounds me that every day there is something that I didn’t get time to do. How does that happen when there’s seemingly nothing to do?

 

Lower winds today gradually turning aft, so we put up the spinnaker! Gave us a boost of a knot or so, and no flopping headsail to annoy the crew. A little pink and purple are welcome changes in our general world color scheme these days. The big, parachute of a sail also provides some welcome shade on the trampoline in the hot afternoon sun to sit and play guitar.

 

We’ve been checking in with the Tangaroa fleet in the afternoon really briefly for any emergency traffic. Apparently it was ‘Tantoa’ only on the frequency list sheet they gave me before we headed out. It’s Tangaroa. Sounds like there may have been some trouble in paradise with some broken bits on a boat well ahead of us, not in our fleet. Tallulah Ruby suggested a quick afternoon monitoring of an emergency frequency in case anything of the sort happened to one of us. Good to have safety measures in place.

 

Today was a sad occasion, as we finished our last remaining fresh fruit. It’s cans from here on out, baby.

 

All good tonight aboard Tayrona. The moon has come and gone. The stars are out in force. I’ve been enamored with Scorpio in the southern sky. There are some great astronomical features around it, globular star clusters, the Scorpio Jewel Box, and the red supergiant Antares, all well visible through a good set of binoculars. Unfortunately, I’ll have to wait until we’re back in a flat anchorage to really scope them. Just get a good dose of nausea from eyeing the heavens too long on the deck of a rolling boat.

 

Author: Pete

Location: 08°21.914S 118°20.678W

Date: 11:00 April 11 to 11:00 April 12

 

Day 13 at sea.

The wind took it easy today. Last night it dropped to 10 knots and during the day it was down to 7. Our speed ground down to 3 knots at some point in the afternoon. The sea state came down as well, so we had a nice calm day, much appreciated after the last week of tumultuous wave associated with the higher wind. It was downright relaxing.  And the flat seas make it conducive to re-stocking the rice!  Not as much energy in without the wind and towing generators chugging along like hopped up bunnies.

 

Tonight the wind came back, now around 13 knots, and we’re back to making 6.5 knots of headway. Flat is nice, but when you have 1216 miles to go, speed is better appreciated.

 

We have Ghirardelli chocolate brownies in the hopper for our ‘Triple Digit’ threshold, when we’re under 1000 miles. Not sure if I’m more excited for the milestone or the brownies.

It’s a gorgeous night out. Usually the early night watches get good stars, then it clouds over for the late watches. I have the graveyard watch, so I’m usually out under matte, gun metal skies. If it’s not too rough on nights like this I’ll go lay on the coach roof under the sail and watch the stars past the mast. It affords a good lookout vantage for ships. I’m always clipped in when I’m up there, but sometimes it’s disconcerting for off-watch crew to peek up and find the cockpit empty. “Did anyone hear a splash?” Tethers. We all wear tethers at night.

Arroz con Pollo for dinner and two cans of pears for dessert. We have two more real live fresh oranges in the refrigerator that we’re saving for a special, grave day. A few tomatoes survive on, along with one brave carrot.  We also have SNOB brand hot sauce from Ecuador to keep things spicy.  SNOB brand is WAY better than any of your wimpy hot sauces.  I wouldn’t dream of using any other kind.

All good aboard. More to come.

 

Author: Pete

Location: 08°13.420S 116°20.675W

Date: 11:00 April 10 to 11:00 April 11

 

Day 12 at sea.

Pretty excited to be beyond the half-way mileage mark. I’m hoping we’ve already passed the half-way time mark. Our first days motor sailing south to the trade winds from the Galapagos were pretty slow. We picked it up since we turned west. Our GRIB files do show lighter wind coming our way, which may slow us down in the coming days though. Already starting to feel the effects with 12 knots instead of 16, and calmer seas. Pros and cons for both. Easier sleeping, eating, reading, living, but slower, less free energy, possibly louder with sails not as full.

It’s interesting (depressing?) that we’ve been sailing west for 12 days and our longitude puts us pretty much south of San Diego! Only 1334 miles to go, but who’s counting?

Rocky connection the last days. Our SSB radio connection to send these emails comes from a tenuous link with certain relay stations around the world. You can only reach them at certain times of the day, depending on atmospheric conditions. We generally use the Panama station, 2000 miles away, at 4.073 MHz, but also occasionally use Rock Hill, South Carolina, some 3000 miles away. We connect best at this time of night at 10.329 MHz. Sometimes we can link through San Diego, Honolulu, or Chile. Pretty neat, if old school technology. You listen to see if anyone is transmitting, an annoying clicking/chirping sound, then try to connect. The computer talks to the Pactor II modem which clicks quietly, talking in turn to the ICOM 802 radio. A little display shows when you’ve made a connection and data starts flowing in small, nay, miniscule, packets. We sailmail users call ourselves the ‘Bandwidth Impaired’.

Depending on the traffic transmission and receiving takes 4-15 minutes. Sometimes it requires 5-10 tries to connect. Other times it’ll pick up on the first attempt. Depends on the time of day and how much traffic from other boats is squeezing through these connection points. The system works pretty well once the kinks are ironed out. Successful transmission also relies on fairly full batteries; under 12.4V in the batteries, say 1/3 of the tank, and the power-hungry antenna won’t broadcast with the necessary wattage to punch through a couple thousand miles of atmosphere. When you’re transmitting on certain frequencies, the signal is powerful enough to light some of the LEDs around the boat in choppy patterns. It’s a little ghostly.

Our last fresh meat in spicy tacos tonight. No fish, but it sounds like our entire flotilla is striking out. Aside from my atrocious fishing skills, all good on Tayrona.

Seems as though we only catch ‘em if they jump into the boat…. Guess that means we’re following the Ernie and Bert school of fishing techniques.