:lat=-14.60:lon=-136.70:
Time: 2315UTC, COG 336T, SOG 5.0kts, Distance Remaining: 270nm
The eastern sky turned red, while the sun tried to break through a veil of
clouds. From the moment night turned into dawn, I looked behind us, in
search of the ominous front. It looked much smaller than before and far
enough away to not worry about it anymore. It had either stalled, or we had
outrun it, doing less than 4 knots overnight! The effects of a front can be
noticed hundreds of miles away, so we had to keep moving, eager to reach the
magic latitude 17S, which we did at 2pm. By then the cold front had
dissipated, just like the puffy clouds on the horizon, and the only
inconvenience we suffered from, were unpredicted light winds. I started to
wonder what five knots of speed felt like again...
Today was SSS-day: sun, shower, solitude. Two of these things we really
enjoy, three if the water is warm. Which it was, the sun finally being hot
enough to heat the sun-shower up. No more boiling tap water to fill the bag;
treat number one! The solitude made the bathing experience more pleasant. We
have been all alone here, in the middle of the ocean. The only other life we
have seen is a few birds. Unfortunately no dolphins, yet.
The biggest treat of them all, today, was the sun, ever stronger in a
perfectly blue sky. Another layer of clothing was stripped off, and then the
last one... Even the breeze felt warm and the thought "Pffff, I'm feeling
hot," crossed my mind. Was that sweat? We have been so sun-deprived lately,
that I embraced the warmth with all I had, spending the whole day on deck,
in the unobscured sun. Not into sunbathing by any means, today I made an
exception and I enjoyed every bright moment of it! Did I use sunscreen? Of
course... not. Did my face get burnt? Of course. This is called
over-indulgence. Everybody takes part in that sometimes, right? For the
first time in three months, we ate our meals in the cockpit. Yes, today was
a happy day!
Mark and I have been listening to the "Top 500 Best Songs of All Time"
compiled by Rolling Stones magazine. Ma and pa would like it. Lots of
oldies; or do you call them classics? We listen and enjoy, sometimes singing
along with the lyrics, or something close to them. Lots of The Beatles and
The Stones. After three days, the best part is over, I think.
Yesterday night started with a giant grey mass looming behind us. We
"escaped". Tonight, we sail towards a grey band of lower hanging clouds. We
call it a warm front and have no idea what it will do to us. This massive,
out-stretched, stationary front has been sitting near the Marquesas for over
a week, which is rare. By now, it should have disappeared, but instead, it
is still there. Worse even, it has reversed its course (ever heard of a
southwest moving front in the Pacific? Another first?) and is coming our
way. At some point soon, we are bound to collide with it. The good news is
that the wind and wave predictions do not mention any anomalies. We expect
some squalls and a lot of rain. But, what do we know about weird moving warm
fronts? Maybe it evaporates as well?
Once night fell, the weather made up for its previous "flaws". It is blowing
a perfect 10-15 knots and Irie is sailing a glorious 5-7 knots on a beam
reach, her fastest point of sail. While earlier today, we needed to catch
the wind on our side and head up a bit to gain some momentum, being off
course, now we don't have to do any effort to sail straight to our
destination in the east winds. Waves and wind on the beam (side) mean a
bumpier ride, but we'll take it for now. You can't have it all, sailing on
the vast ocean, and today we've been lucky. The bliss might even last a full
and rarely experience 24 hours!
Since I probably should avoid the sunshine the coming days and we have to
skip more and more songs as the Top 500 progresses, I wonder what I will do
tomorrow. On a weeklong passage, I have no problem being a bum. So far we
have been lazy about baking and trolling a line. The baguettes are devoured
and the pre-cooked meals are gone. Maybe it is time to make some bread and
catch some fish? Or, I could do plain old nothing again! :-)
Wednesday, July 31, 2013
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Gambier to Marquesas - Day 3: Light Winds
:lat=-16.96:lon=-135.71:
Time: 2315UTC, COG 336T, SOG 5.0kts, Distance Remaining: 420nm
When first light arrived on Monday morning, the wind was still light. Mark
and I didn't change the sails yet, because we were surrounded by nasty
squalls. So, we kept moving north-ish at 4 knots. Around 9am, the sky
cleared up enough to risk putting the light sail up. Spinnaker time! It was
worth the hassle to take both white sails down and rig the spinnaker up for
an extra half a knot of speed. We seemed to go as fast as the apparent wind,
and, for the first time we were on course!
We progressed NE and managed to keep the spinnaker flying for the biggest
part of the day. The squalls kept their distance. The sun joined us for a
while, its heat and effect stronger than yesterday. One layer of clothes
disappeared, until the clouds came back. During the afternoon, the squalls
around us multiplied. Once again, no rain fell upon us, but the formations
sucked up all the wind. At 4pm, the spinnaker collapsed and the relaxing
sailing was over. We put the other sails up again and tried to head north.
Irie was becalmed for an hour, while the needle of the wind meter did
circles and not the tiniest breeze was felt. The sails slammed left and
right and it was hard to be patient. Finally, the SE wind filled in a bit
and we started moving, albeit slowly. The predicted 10 knots of wind - which
keeps us going OK - was in actuality only 7 and Irie sailed into the night
at 3 knots, just enough to keep the sails from flapping around. But when the
wind drops under five knots, even our light boat is having trouble to keep
moving steadily, a frustrating time for whoever is at the helm. If only the
weather would be more like what is predicted, it would make us, cruisers,
much happier. Because, it is what we base our decisions on!
Usually, we don't mind slow progress, as long as it is comfortable. And,
with the mellow seas from behind us, it was. But, in order to have no effect
from a front that was heading north, we had to make latitude 17° S before
tomorrow (Tuesday) afternoon! When night fell at 5:30pm, once again without
a sunset, we noticed a growing grey wall behind us. The massive cloud
covered half of our spectrum. Was this the front already? Will this giant
system close in on us? We better got moving north, as quickly as possible,
in less than ten knots of wind... Luckily, once it was dark, we couldn't see
the looming monster cloud anymore.
My shift at midnight started with an observation of the nightly
surroundings. Tons of stars dotted the dark sky, framed by even darker
clouds. The bright half-moon rose, glowing yellow, turning white. As it
climbed the sky, its light erased the little twinkles of stars one by one.
What a peaceful setting. While I kept a close eye on our pathetic 3 knot
"speed" (many moments it even dropped to a very annoying 2 knots), I prayed
for more wind. I always seem to ask for something regarding the weather
while on watch... I tried not to stress about our deadline and watched the
decimals of our latitude slowly tick down. 52 more miles to go, until we
reach 17° S! Will we beat this front?
Time: 2315UTC, COG 336T, SOG 5.0kts, Distance Remaining: 420nm
When first light arrived on Monday morning, the wind was still light. Mark
and I didn't change the sails yet, because we were surrounded by nasty
squalls. So, we kept moving north-ish at 4 knots. Around 9am, the sky
cleared up enough to risk putting the light sail up. Spinnaker time! It was
worth the hassle to take both white sails down and rig the spinnaker up for
an extra half a knot of speed. We seemed to go as fast as the apparent wind,
and, for the first time we were on course!
We progressed NE and managed to keep the spinnaker flying for the biggest
part of the day. The squalls kept their distance. The sun joined us for a
while, its heat and effect stronger than yesterday. One layer of clothes
disappeared, until the clouds came back. During the afternoon, the squalls
around us multiplied. Once again, no rain fell upon us, but the formations
sucked up all the wind. At 4pm, the spinnaker collapsed and the relaxing
sailing was over. We put the other sails up again and tried to head north.
Irie was becalmed for an hour, while the needle of the wind meter did
circles and not the tiniest breeze was felt. The sails slammed left and
right and it was hard to be patient. Finally, the SE wind filled in a bit
and we started moving, albeit slowly. The predicted 10 knots of wind - which
keeps us going OK - was in actuality only 7 and Irie sailed into the night
at 3 knots, just enough to keep the sails from flapping around. But when the
wind drops under five knots, even our light boat is having trouble to keep
moving steadily, a frustrating time for whoever is at the helm. If only the
weather would be more like what is predicted, it would make us, cruisers,
much happier. Because, it is what we base our decisions on!
Usually, we don't mind slow progress, as long as it is comfortable. And,
with the mellow seas from behind us, it was. But, in order to have no effect
from a front that was heading north, we had to make latitude 17° S before
tomorrow (Tuesday) afternoon! When night fell at 5:30pm, once again without
a sunset, we noticed a growing grey wall behind us. The massive cloud
covered half of our spectrum. Was this the front already? Will this giant
system close in on us? We better got moving north, as quickly as possible,
in less than ten knots of wind... Luckily, once it was dark, we couldn't see
the looming monster cloud anymore.
My shift at midnight started with an observation of the nightly
surroundings. Tons of stars dotted the dark sky, framed by even darker
clouds. The bright half-moon rose, glowing yellow, turning white. As it
climbed the sky, its light erased the little twinkles of stars one by one.
What a peaceful setting. While I kept a close eye on our pathetic 3 knot
"speed" (many moments it even dropped to a very annoying 2 knots), I prayed
for more wind. I always seem to ask for something regarding the weather
while on watch... I tried not to stress about our deadline and watched the
decimals of our latitude slowly tick down. 52 more miles to go, until we
reach 17° S! Will we beat this front?
Monday, July 29, 2013
Gambier to Marquesas - Day 2: Sun!
:lat=-18.55:lon=-135.30:
Time: 0110UTC, COG 350T, SOG 4.5kts, Distance Remaining: 520nm
On Sunday morning, the wind still came out of the Southwest. Being off
course by more than 50° and having strayed 70 miles from our plotted route
(What's an extra day at sea?), it was time to head up a bit. We pointed
Irie's bow due north, still off course, but doing better. Now we were on a
straight shot to the equator, doing around 6 knots in 13 knots of wind. We
would turn off well before it, though, nudging our way left as we progressed
and the wind would clock towards the east (anti-clockwise in the Southern
hemisphere). The waves were benign, so having them come from the side did
not bother us at this point.
The sky slowly turned blue in some places and the sun decided to join us for
a few hours. What a treat! It was still chilly, but I strapped myself on
deck to let my face soak up all the rays and warmth it could. It was a dry
and pleasant ride. We dodged a few squalls, listened to music and took some
naps.
Good times never last. When the sun set behind a curtain of rain in the
western distance, Irie entered the "grey zone", a local weather system not
mentioned in any forecasts. A massive dark cloud engulfed us. There was no
escape! It stayed dry, but the wind died. Then, it turned northwest, the
direction we needed to go. Since we really did not want to sail more east -
as it was, we already managed to reach the eastern edge of our weather
forecast zone - we trimmed the sails and hoped for the best. The area of
messed up winds was huge and after an hour of unsuccessfully trying to keep
the sails full and make some progress, Mark turned the engines on to get
through the thing. It was an annoying shift for him and one with little
sleep for me.
After four and a half hours of motoring, the sky cleared up some and the
wind moved to the south. We turned more left, kept the sails relatively
full, the boat relatively flat and used the easting we had done before to
head a bit off course the other way. The wind frequently dropped below 10
knots from behind and at 4-5 knots, we steadily and smoothly sailed towards
another day of - hopefully - abundant sunshine!
Time: 0110UTC, COG 350T, SOG 4.5kts, Distance Remaining: 520nm
On Sunday morning, the wind still came out of the Southwest. Being off
course by more than 50° and having strayed 70 miles from our plotted route
(What's an extra day at sea?), it was time to head up a bit. We pointed
Irie's bow due north, still off course, but doing better. Now we were on a
straight shot to the equator, doing around 6 knots in 13 knots of wind. We
would turn off well before it, though, nudging our way left as we progressed
and the wind would clock towards the east (anti-clockwise in the Southern
hemisphere). The waves were benign, so having them come from the side did
not bother us at this point.
The sky slowly turned blue in some places and the sun decided to join us for
a few hours. What a treat! It was still chilly, but I strapped myself on
deck to let my face soak up all the rays and warmth it could. It was a dry
and pleasant ride. We dodged a few squalls, listened to music and took some
naps.
Good times never last. When the sun set behind a curtain of rain in the
western distance, Irie entered the "grey zone", a local weather system not
mentioned in any forecasts. A massive dark cloud engulfed us. There was no
escape! It stayed dry, but the wind died. Then, it turned northwest, the
direction we needed to go. Since we really did not want to sail more east -
as it was, we already managed to reach the eastern edge of our weather
forecast zone - we trimmed the sails and hoped for the best. The area of
messed up winds was huge and after an hour of unsuccessfully trying to keep
the sails full and make some progress, Mark turned the engines on to get
through the thing. It was an annoying shift for him and one with little
sleep for me.
After four and a half hours of motoring, the sky cleared up some and the
wind moved to the south. We turned more left, kept the sails relatively
full, the boat relatively flat and used the easting we had done before to
head a bit off course the other way. The wind frequently dropped below 10
knots from behind and at 4-5 knots, we steadily and smoothly sailed towards
another day of - hopefully - abundant sunshine!
Sunday, July 28, 2013
Gambier to Marquesas - Day 1: Back on the ocean
:lat=-20.30:lon=-134.63:
Time: 0120UTC, COG 340T, SOG 6.5kts, Distance Remaining: 630nm
After having a last take-out pizza (yes, there is a decent pizza place in
Rikitea that's open during the weekend evenings) and hot spiced wine on
Pitufa, having 4 fresh baguettes delivered to our boat in the morning (it
was Birgit and Christian's turn to pick them up) and saying "See you later"
to some friends, Irie's windlass slowly lifted the anchor out of the mud, 70
(22m) beneath. At 10am, we headed into the wind, the chop and the grey
skies. For some reason, the wind is always on the nose and boats are always
anchoreda on a lee shore (land behind instead of in front) in the Gambier
islands. The wind against current phenomenon caused a bumpy and wet ride.
Within 20 minutes of leaving Rikitea, the decks were swamped with salt
water.
Once outside the lagoon, after two hours of motor sailing, we fell off a bit
and the engines were turned off. The wind blew pretty strong out of the SW,
an unusual direction. The gradient wind normally comes out of the SE here.
The waves were about 12 feet (4m) high. Conditions would only improve over
the coming week. To make the trip a bit more comfortable and to do some
"easting", which will help us further north, when the wind turns east, we
altered course by 40°. In 20-25 knots of wind (instead of the predicted
15-20) and with reefed sails, we moved NNE at a pleasant 7 knots.
The day was spent getting used to the motion of the ocean again, resting up
a bit and trying to stay warm. Making meals was easy with the in advance
prepared curry for lunch and tuna salad for dinner. Fresh baguettes at sea,
a treat! At night, we tried to put as many layers of clothes as possible
under Mark's foul weather gear for our six hour shifts and the bed sported a
thick blanket on top of the duvet. The half-moon (is it first quarter or
last quarter when the bottom half shows?) was rarely visible in the overcast
sky. Squalls surrounded us and played with the wind a bit, but most of them
skirted us, with only some sprinkling to be felt.
The wind speed dropped substantially overnight. With a double reefed main
(you never know with these squalls), we moved at a speed of 5-6 knots
towards the equator, where warmer weather and longer days await!
Time: 0120UTC, COG 340T, SOG 6.5kts, Distance Remaining: 630nm
After having a last take-out pizza (yes, there is a decent pizza place in
Rikitea that's open during the weekend evenings) and hot spiced wine on
Pitufa, having 4 fresh baguettes delivered to our boat in the morning (it
was Birgit and Christian's turn to pick them up) and saying "See you later"
to some friends, Irie's windlass slowly lifted the anchor out of the mud, 70
(22m) beneath. At 10am, we headed into the wind, the chop and the grey
skies. For some reason, the wind is always on the nose and boats are always
anchoreda on a lee shore (land behind instead of in front) in the Gambier
islands. The wind against current phenomenon caused a bumpy and wet ride.
Within 20 minutes of leaving Rikitea, the decks were swamped with salt
water.
Once outside the lagoon, after two hours of motor sailing, we fell off a bit
and the engines were turned off. The wind blew pretty strong out of the SW,
an unusual direction. The gradient wind normally comes out of the SE here.
The waves were about 12 feet (4m) high. Conditions would only improve over
the coming week. To make the trip a bit more comfortable and to do some
"easting", which will help us further north, when the wind turns east, we
altered course by 40°. In 20-25 knots of wind (instead of the predicted
15-20) and with reefed sails, we moved NNE at a pleasant 7 knots.
The day was spent getting used to the motion of the ocean again, resting up
a bit and trying to stay warm. Making meals was easy with the in advance
prepared curry for lunch and tuna salad for dinner. Fresh baguettes at sea,
a treat! At night, we tried to put as many layers of clothes as possible
under Mark's foul weather gear for our six hour shifts and the bed sported a
thick blanket on top of the duvet. The half-moon (is it first quarter or
last quarter when the bottom half shows?) was rarely visible in the overcast
sky. Squalls surrounded us and played with the wind a bit, but most of them
skirted us, with only some sprinkling to be felt.
The wind speed dropped substantially overnight. With a double reefed main
(you never know with these squalls), we moved at a speed of 5-6 knots
towards the equator, where warmer weather and longer days await!
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Quick Update
:lat=-22.60:lon=-134.88:
Time: 0130UTC, COG 020T, SOG 6.8kts, Distance Remaining: 760nm
Just a quick update. We are underway. All is OK on Irie. Wind a bit
stronger than predicted, but just a bit, so is OK for now. We are a bit off
course today to keep comfortable on the boat. The wind is SW now (odd for
around here), and as we go North, the wind will go more East and we will get
more on course. That's it for today, Liesbet will write more tomorrow!
Time: 0130UTC, COG 020T, SOG 6.8kts, Distance Remaining: 760nm
Just a quick update. We are underway. All is OK on Irie. Wind a bit
stronger than predicted, but just a bit, so is OK for now. We are a bit off
course today to keep comfortable on the boat. The wind is SW now (odd for
around here), and as we go North, the wind will go more East and we will get
more on course. That's it for today, Liesbet will write more tomorrow!
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