We sat dock side for a fee hours waiting for clearance from the local customs and agriculture inspectors.
They never showed up and were pretty lackadaisical on the phone. We actually, still don't have clearance, but we're moving ahead anyway.
"Can we dance with change? Can we fall and try again with playfulness? Do we have the focus, skill and attunement to find the stillpoint within it all?"
We sat dock side for a fee hours waiting for clearance from the local customs and agriculture inspectors.
They never showed up and were pretty lackadaisical on the phone. We actually, still don't have clearance, but we're moving ahead anyway.
O'ahu is this big glow on and above the horizon. A little like a winter dawn.
. The wind that funnels through the Alanuihaha channel between Maui and the big island finally dissipated and we are in another light wind zone waiting to see what happens when we line up with the Kaiwi channel on the east side of O'ahu. Apparently there is an usual weather system on the N side of the island and we just don't know how that's going to play on this side.
We are running a single engine and the mainsail at the moment, making just over 6 kt. It looks like we might get in a little early, in which case we will go to a nearby anchorage that we are familiar with and clean up a bit before we go in.
There has been One vessel that we've had visual (but not radar) contact with tonight. I'm sure there will be a few more as we approach Pearl Harbor. But there just isn't much traffic that comes up from the South. Throughout those years I spe nt observing the southern horizon from the barefoot bungalow in Ewa beach, It was always noteworthy when something came in from the South, it's that uncommon.
We've come a long way. Over 2500 nautical miles of blue water sailing. It's been a heck of an experience and I'm proud of all of us and this vessel.
I'm grateful to have had excellent crew mates and companions. Trust worthy, competent, kind, among many other fine qualties.
I'm grateful and humbled to experience and internalize another perspective of living on Earth.
Love and Light
~e.
Sun is setting (after 7 pm!) The wind has filled in to 17 kts and we are running full sail, no engines.
It's a stunningly colorful sunset as it gets later. Feeling blessed!
We are under 100 miles left (in a straight line) to the marina.
Managing our speed to try to arrive at 8:00 am.
Both engines are fully functional and we have two tanks aver 1/2 full. We could motor the rest of the way if we needed to.
Guess what. The thing with the nav display: I fixed it!! (Technically, I broke it, too -- but let's not get buried in details.) It was just a setting!! It's all good, and Jeff can cross it off the repair list! Yay! Right...? yay? No? Whatever. It's fine. LOL
One more night at sea...
Love, light, and fair winds,
~e.
See that puffy white clouds over there on the horizon? That's Maui Island, and the mountain, Haleakala, about 80+? Miles away.
All that flat blue? Windless expanse. It's like the doldrums take 2. Ugh.
However, in good news, this amazing man that I'm doing life with, fixed the starter motor assembly (again!) And got enough power flowing to start the starboard engine.
We are running both engines, with no sail up yet, "Headed for the barn." Expecting to arrive to the marina tomorrow morning & manage the arrivals business.
((And maybe see my friends waving from shore as we cruise in! :) ))
I took a big nap around midday today. Aaaah. That felt good. I've sent Jeff down below to try to do the same. He's due some good sleep.
He's been stressing since the engine wouldn't start.
And then, because you know, what's a good adventure with out some obstacles...? The back light on the nav igation display went out. Yeah. So, no radar sweeps. No mapping.
Luckily, both of my crewmates have navigation software running on their tablets. Ha!! We are fine!! All the instruments still work and we have plenty other displays to use.
Current Position:
L: 19.61 degrees N
Lo: 157.15 degrees W
Course: 325
Speed: 8 kt
Love, light, and fair winds,
~e.
Not much news.
It's much cooler than we've grown accustomed to. For example, I overheard Jeff reading the water temperature from one of the sensors and both he and Torsten were like "Brrr!!!" Want to guess the water temp? 78.5 degrees. We are so spoiled!! LoL
I totally bundle up like I'm going to the northern California coast for night watch, squall jacket, beanie, ... no kidding. If I had uggs, I might be tempted... LOL
Still no visual or radar or radio contact with any other vessels. But we will keep a good lookout tonight & Maybe tomorrow we'll see something. Maybe the Big Island, it's still, too far away, too cloudy and now, too dark to see it tonight.
But, the moon is back in the night sky
Polaris is back, too! Mars and Jupiter have been pretty. And we can still see the southern cross. (At least for a few hours.)
The starboard engine wouldn't start up this afternoon when it was tim e to exercise them. So un-cool. ((On a personal level, I can maybe relate. But as far as meeting expectations of the crew and gear on this adventure, stbd engine is not a superstar.))
And now that's an issue that needs to be addressed. We pulled the starter motor and gave it some TLC. But wasn't enough. I suggested hitting it with a hammer. But, that didn't work. Shrug. Is it plugged in? Because now we're reaching the end of my helpful suggestions. Hahaha!
Pray for a good night!
Love & Light
~e.
Isn't that a song?
Anyway!
We've sailed over 2000 miles of open ocean!
It's another beautiful day for sailing. Good wind! Sunny. Blue in every direction.
We've been informed that our AIS (more likely the antenna) may not be producing a signal since that heavy weather run.
... if you are following along at home...
Our GPS position as of 1630 HNL time is:
L: 14° 37.4' N
Lo: 153° 55.1' W
COG 320°
SOG 8.5 kt
Love and light,
~e.
Because it's sooo windy, we took the mainsail down to the second reef to be extra safe and preserve a cushion of de-power-ability.
(Vocabulary deterioration, seems to be a side effect of this kind of isolation... LOL)
Anyway, we executed a well timed, very efficient reefing drill, and after the hoist, as we examine everything about the sail and the changes we made, Jeff noticed that the halyard looked funny just above where it is tied to the head of the sail.
Ut-oh. Confirmed with binoculars, its frayed. gotta fix it before it breaks!
Again! Head to wind, drop the sail. Jeff climbs up the rigging to get to the head, unties it and hands it to Tosten through the cockpit window. Torsten pulls it into the galley (this is our new halyard and plenty long) where we have the hot-knife staged, cuts it and hands it back.
Jeff re-rigs it, we rehoist (to the second reef) and it's good as new.
Holy moLe y! That's some wear!! On a new line, too. We figure it must have occurred during light wind and "flogging" or when the sail swings back and forth from one side to the other. Sheesh!
What a good catch!!
Whew!
Thanks angels!
Love,
~e.
Last night at sunset and this afternoon.
No lucky photos yet.. just crappy phone-camera snap with lousy timing. But I'll keep trying!
We have been running the engines in a low-to-no-wind situation for over 12 hours; since noon yesterday.
Now at 3am, we may have finally hooked up with a breeze.
Fingers crossed.
((And a picture of one of yesterday's flying fish casualties))
Love and light,
Fair winds!
~e.
Here is a picture of the main navigation display from earlier today.
Those scary red blobs, aren't actually scary. They are rain clouds; if they are pretty dense (precipitation-laden), they return a radar signature. They've been blossoming (as Torsten put it) all day. (Insert heavy eye-roll, emphasis mine.) The concentric circles around the boat icon are 2 mile increments (changable: you can zoom in or out while the radar is sweeping.)
The dialog box at the top is showing our direction and distance to our next waypoint, the SW side of Hawai'i, the Big Island. 326.8° on the compass and 864 miles. (It also shows a constant recalculation of the estimate travel time & arrival... I NEVER look at that.)
The thin blue line diagonal from bottom middle/right to upper left is the track from one waypoint to the next.. in this case, 002WPT to 003WPT... our goal is to stay a bit to the right of the line if we can. ( To give ourselves a cushion, like choosing a more comfortable ride in a swell.)
The boxes in the bottom left are:
Trip Log: 1529 miles
Heading: 342.0°
GPS position:
Latitude: 6° 15.5' N
Longitude: 148° 36.3' W
COG (course over ground) 351.5°
SOG (speed over ground) 7.6 knots
Trip Log was zero'ed at the marina; that's the number we check everyday at 5pm.
We are more than half way!!!
Why isn't the Course and the Heading the same? Excellent question!
Idk. But I can tell you that heading is a magnetic compass reading. COG is a GPS calculation.
We also have separate gauges for wind angle/speed. And customizable readings. Plus the autopilot screen (which also has a bunch of info... some of it the same)
There's a quiz tomorrow. (Jk)
Love & Light,
~e.
It's a gray, flat light day. Good size mixed swell. Variable winds, lots of rain clouds. This is the part of the Convergence Zone that they call "the doldrums." Lovely name.
We've reluctantly come to terms with the fact that we did not get obscenely luck and get to skip this part. (Not an easy pill to swallow, after all the models looked SO GOOD! Sigh)
Weirdness abounds in the ITCZ just like everyone said. Rain pops up out of nowhere, and vanishes just as quickly. We'll catch a lively breeze out of the West?? Which makes no sense.
More than once I've been at the helm, looking around at the sea and the sky, looking at the instruments, remembering the models, and just dumbfounded. I just don't know what to do, to make the most of the nonsense.
We've all decided that when in doubt, just head toward Hawaii, even if we motor.
We do have to monitor our fuel consumption, and regularly check on the engines.
For example, Jeff replaced a belt on the port engine, this morning. We pulled water out of the fuel separators on both engines yesterday. It's part of the deal.
Love and light,
Fair winds!!
~e.
These little kamikazes are one of the few species we have had an opportunity to observe on this trip.
They are these skinny blue & silver jobbies with wing-like side fins. Sometimes we see them onesie twosies, but often we see them in schools (or is it flocks?).
They burst out of the surface as we sail by and skip and glide and even flap and turn and maneuver across the surface, and then smash right back down into the water.
The sea birds will sometimes ride with us or circle the boat hoping for a chance to snatch one. Torsten has gotten a chance to watch a few dives & misses and even a catch!
The weirdest bit though is finding them and/or their scales on the deck. I mean, what is up with that? It's nearly everyday... sometimes several times a day.
I even found fish scales on the floor of my bathroom!! We must have had the hatch open when some carnage occurred. Un-cool.
One aft ernoon, Jeff and I were sitting in the sail shade on the deck. And I asked Jeff... "Is that...? O.M.G Is that, an Eye-Ball?!" -- Add that to the list of things I never thought I'd say.
~e.
It's another beautiful day out here on the Big Blue. Nice 10-15 knot breeze from a favorable direction (color me grateful!)
Sadly, no frozen daiquiris at the equator. Bummer. We may or may not have had a couple sips of the "tribute" rum that we spilled over the side in a traditional gift to the Sea Gods.
We saw dolphins this morning! So cool!! A whole pod just after sunrise. What a delight!! No pictures this time. I hope we get more chances.
We received a very informative and helpful email from Skip, our shore-based navigator friend. He gave us a lot of good information for our projected route and what to expect.
We slowed down to almost drifting for an hour or so, to run the water-maker, because it was having a hard time getting just seawater (no air) when the boat was at higher speed. Oh well. Tanks are full again. And that's a good feeling.
love and light,
~e.
Well! That was quite the little rant... my apologies. I took a nap, I feel a little better. LoL
I've decided not to call those clouds giant towers of bullshirt, anymore.
But they are still out there and require constant sail trim and helm adjustments.
And this swell from two directions at once is still especially irritating when the waves converge under the boat and thump or slap against the underside. Scares the crap out of me everytime! LoL
So far my stern words about manners and appropriate behavior are having no effect. Sigh. So, I'll adjust my heading and sailtrim (Again) and hope for a smoother ride.
But on the bright side, It's been sunny (if humid) for a few hours and my foulweather gear is dry and ready for another night watch. (Pic of me trying not to get scorched by the afternoon sun) by the time I send this we will have clouds overhead, promise.
In other news, we are running out of South Latitude!! We'll probably cross the equator tomorrow. I'm hoping there will be a little touristy spot for pictures and souvenirs; ooh! and maybe daiquiris! * That would be fun!
I'll let you know!
*this one time my friend and I were out hiking and she kept talking about the strawberry daiquiri machine at the top. (It wasn't actually true. But it got us there with no rest stops!)
Love & Light,
~e.
The past many hours have spent, um, sailing. But like actively sailing. LoL. Not really cruising...
The weather and seas are energetically confused.
Big stupid rain clouds.
Mixed swell and wind waves on top.
The boats movement has been like a damn tossed salad. No. Not really. It's really not that bad, but it is a bit bouncy, and noisy which is not ideal for efficient forward progress....
Here is a picture of a big stupid rain cloud. So not like winne-the-pooh's little black raincloud
Peace & love & Light
~e.
Aloha!
It is a spectacularly pretty day out here on the Big Blue.
A charming 10-12 knots with SPARSELY scattered white caplets and scattered smallish puffy white clouds. (I bet it's a pretty satellite image.)
We are gently pulling our hulls across the surface, trying to ease along this swell. We are all working on a bit of a sleep deficit, Jeff especially. So if I have to fall off our intendend (but less comfortable) course for little bit so he can get a few solid hours rest... so be it.
Last night, after we brought the mainsail down to the first reef... a typical nightly exercise to run slightly depowered through the dark solo watches. As we were trimming the sail we noticed something sticking out. (Which even if you don't sail, you would think was weird.) A batten (a long fiberglass rod that is sewn into a pocket in the sail and runs 90° off the mast...) had busted out of its pocket and was sticking out behind the sail.
Ugh. Gotta fix it! So, dark o'clock maneuvers again. We drop the main down to where the offending batten is laying on the boom, roll up the jib, fire up the port engine and head east (nose of the boat into the wind, so the sail doesn't try to flop around). And get to work. Deck lights, head lamps, gloves (stupid unpainted fiberglass) harnesses and tethers, we wrestle this thing back into its sleeve, then Jeff gets out his sail repair kit and starts sewing a patch on the busted pocket flap-thing. My guy has SKILZ! An hour or so after we just wanted to reef the main sail, we are finally sailing again. Hahahaha.
Jeff enjoys this kind of thing. Solving problems as they come up. No big deal. Just do it. I guess it appeals to his sense if independence. Me? Meh, not my fave. But then again, whatcha gonna do?
After my midnight watch the stars were still phenomenal. I pulled out a sleeping bag and settled on the "bench" in the cockpit . Jeff and I watched the thin cresent moon rise. And I slept there until the morning sun started baking me ... just like a pig in a blanket!!! Haha.
Love and light,
Fair winds
~e.
I reread the email I sent last night. So many typos. Sorry, friends. Bear with me! :)
First off: * right * we were going north, we turned to the east, that is a *right* turn. LOL.
If I could, I'd go in and edit these things... sigh. Color me embarrassed.
Here's a pretty first star at sunset picture. :)
~e.
This boat came with some fishing gear, and Jeff brought some.
Today we dropped a couple lines and are trolling as we sail.
We had one quick curious hit, but did not hook up.
I'll let you know how that goes. :)
It's the golden hour before sunset here in the little latitudes. And it couldn't be any prettier.
(I'll call myself a liar in half an hour at sunset, probably.)
A quiet day here on Hiva Oa. Light winds (under 10 knots) all day. Right now we are doing 5knots in a light 7.5 breeze.
The wind waves have diminished to sweet lapping ripples and a totally manageable easy swell rolling in from California (or that direction anyway).
And now just before dinner we shut down the generator (which is working like a champ - thanks again to Torsten's many hours of labor) after running it and the R-O water maker for about two hours to refill the starboard water tank.
Plus we took the opportunity of making water to use some! We all showered! Washed another t-shirt or pair of shorts ... and cooked pasta!
We are all comfortably settling into our evening and prepping for a quiet night.
As my friend, April, says: "Love hard and pray hard." (Or something close...lol)
Love and light,
~e.
On my midnight watch turnover, Torsten pointed out that we had reached singe digits of latitude in our GPS position, as we get steadily closer to the equator.
I'm noticing the wind speed seems to be getting smaller, too. We'll see if that trend holds.
We are also noticing more current. Our magnetic heading varies from our course over ground. We are getting set a little bit west. This was anticipated and why we've been sailing northeast, instead of due north. Hopefully it works to give us a good approach to Hawaii.
The instruments tell us that the ocean temperature is 82 degrees. Nuts, right?
( Here comes that shrinking moon, almost 2am tonight.)
Sent from Iridium Mail & Web.
At 5pm our trip log actually showed 503 nautical miles (for a daily total off 117).
We are into the single digits of latitude!! That's a first for all of us, I think!
The sun is setting (at least into the cloud bank at the hoizon) about 5:30. The sky is lovely all the pastel shades from salmon through a creamy buttery color through white to all the blues, lavender and rosy pinks.
Wish you were here!
Love and light,
~e.
Observations
Last night the waning Cresent moon rose at about 0100, looking for all the world like a big yellow Cheshire Cat Grin.
Before that the milky way had my attention for being the most engaging spectacle. We find ourselves in one of those really remote dark places, and the air was pretty clear & dry (for the surface of a warm ocean) and we could see DEPTH! and color!
... I mean you had to use your imagination a little... but it was phenomenal!
(Side note, the guys are laughing at me and insist that I share with everyone that I had to take ibuprofen this morning because my neck aches from stargazing) LOL
I think its super cool to watch the Big Dipper rotate in the sky (rise and set E>W) in front of us during the night and watch the Southern Cross (and its buddy stars) rotate in the sky behind us. One of the very cool things about heading consistently north.
Setting stars is a funny thing to try to watch with so much distortion at the horizon. I think that must be why the Polynesian Wayfinders found that a hands-width was the way to go.
We've caught glimpses of bioluminessencse in our wake. Usually earlier on the night, and not so much later. For some reason, that I don't know, and can't look up right now. LOL
Today is windier, steady 18-22 knots, white caps, and some pretty sizable wind-waves have built up. We are moving around a lot, as we slide across the surface of big blue. The water is super sparkly and such a pretty blue.
It's pretty noisy on the boat: wind and waves, creaking lines, waves slapping the hulls. We have to raise our voices and speak very directly, to be heard clearly.
Our number goal for today is "5x5" :
500 miles on the trip log by 5pm
Love and light
Fair winds
~e.
We're getting accustomed to the daily routine of passage sailing.
There is always one person assigned to be "on watch," at the helm, being lookout, paying attention to the instrument readings, sea state, wind, & sail trim.
When the first mate, auto-helm, is engaged... and the weather is stable, this is not a lot and we check our messages, write in our journal, have snacks, polish stainless... little tasks in between "doing rounds & checks"
The person who just finished their time slot is official back up - dressed & harnessed... ready. (And probably napping nearby) Jeff is always back up.
0600-1000 = Torsten
1000-1300= Emily
1300-1600= Torsten
1600-2100= Jeff (& emily)
2100-0000= Torsten
0000-0300= Emily
0300-0600= Jeff
We eat randomly. Usually something between 6-8 am, again 10-12. Ideally we'll cook a hot meal 3-4 ish.
Snacks include cheese & ; sausage & crackers. Yogurt & granola, hard boiled eggs, dried fruit & nuts, fresh carrots, apples, oranges, banana (for now) cookies, pb&j (Except Torsten who thinks pb is gross. LOL!)
There are daily tasks that might include running the generator to charge the batteries, and to run the water maker (haven't yet). Checking on the engines and running them every other day or so. Puzzling out lingering system & wiring questions (very few ... THANK GOD!)
Making meals and doing housekeeping.
We're still new at this
But getting better!
Sent from Iridium Mail & Web.
By our 24-day, at 5pm we'd made 125 miles. Our trip log is at 326 miles, with 1237 miles to our next turn.
LOL.
Hahahaha
Hahahahahaha
Omg!!!
~e.
Ok.
This part of boating is pretty nice.
Sparkling blue water
Gentle sway of the boat
Clear warm breezes
Puffy lavender clouds
Under a big blue sky
Remind me to hold this thought!
Love & Light,
~e.
Random day counting nonsense (LOL) :
When figuring our miles/24 hour; we are counting 5:00 pm - 5:00 pm.
Personally, I'm still calling a day a day. LOL!
The light shifty winds and plenty rain clouds are far behind us. Left the last one about 1 am.
We have much clearer air, scattered high clouds. Some tall puffers out on the western horizon.
Winds 10-15. Our boat speed is generally just over 1/2 the wind speed.
Thanks for the texts and emails.
And keep those prayers flowing.
I just know they are smoothing the way for us!
Love and light,
~e.
Bright fast morning, and wet sloggy afternoon.
Of course I exaggerate, it wasn't all rainy or gray, but as we approached & passed the little Pahoa Atoll the seas and winds and clouds were just all disorganized & shifty. An uncomfortable exercise for a few hours. But we shosuld reach a new weather system as we head north.
Overall a successful day 200 miles in 24 hours. Well take that for sure.
We can identify the "southern cross" and alpha centauri to our stern.. pretty cool!
Sent from Iridium Mail & Web.
Still Alive!!!
(Remember that scene from Croods?, LOL)
We all survived the first night at sea on our trans-equatorial passage!
It was mostly a beautiful stary night, before the moon rose, the milky way beautifully lit the summer sky and these southern stars, some familiar, some not so much.
Before midnight, the waning half moon rose... it was almost spooky the way it was shrouded and glowing on the horizon... odd looking & took a minute to identify.
On my 12-3 watch we had a nice warm moon-lit sail under a Polynesian sky. Our boat speed (even riding heavy with FULL tanks of fuel and water) averaged about 8 knots. I was happy to have winds under 20 mph for most of my time watching the auto helm drive the boat. (Best first mate, ever!!!)
Currently, we sit at 16 hours, 145 miles in. Happily putting some "east in the bank" for we expect to get set to the west in the little latitudes.
A forecast indicates that we will get to the edge of these pressure winds, and things will slow down late this afternoon... we'll see.
Love and light.
Fair winds,
~e.