May 13

Written by:
5/13/2010 12:44 PM 

Day 14 – Tuesday May 11th, 2010 – 884 Miles to Fatu Hiva

Passage fatigue. Sounds like an official diagnosis of some sort even though I just made it up. Nonetheless, I think it is safe to say I am suffering from a bit of passage fatigue. Winds are consistently either Force 5 or Force 6 on the Beaufort Scale (I’ll let you google that one) and I am simply tired.

Sometime around midnight last night I decided I had to do something to shorten sail. Looking at the wind gauge I saw the apparent wind was blowing at 26 knots. Given I was running with the wind at 7 knots the true wind was somewhere around 30 knots. I really hate reefing at night.

Staring at the sails from the cockpit I couldn’t decide where to take canvas in. Just about the time I’d decided to take in a second reef on the main I realized what I fool I was being. When running with the wind sail belongs as far forward as possible. Thus realized, I struck the mizzen and lashed it to the boom. The primary result was a significant decrease in weather helm making life much easier for the autopilot. Speed didn’t suffer a quarter of a knot.

Just before sunset I saw my first ship, a French freighter heading East after unloading at Papeete. Seldom do the big ship captains contact us little sailboats, but the French Captain inquired about my progress, destination, and if all was well. It was a short exchange, but gratifying and I received my first welcome, albeit a little premature, to the French Islands of the South Pacific. To the Captain of the Pelican, fair winds my friend.

It is a strange feeling, but I find myself reminiscing about a past and a girl that never was. As much as I love the sea and sailing, there is a price to be paid for a voyage of this sort that can’t be measured in dollars.

Day 15 – Wednesday May, 12 2010 – 740 Miles to go

Not much to report and the mood to write has yet to strike today. Winds and seas have eased for the better part of the day. Jib not doing much in the wind shadow of the main so altered course more westerly so that I could bring it out to windward with the spinnaker pole. Finished a pot of New England style chowder I made with the last of the mahi. Forgot to put it in the fridge last night and think it may have just started to turn today. Tasted fine, but didn’t eat much. Still wishing for a tuna for sushi dinner. Tired of mahi.

In the past three days I’ve read Winter of Our Discontent by Steinbeck and Camus’ The Stranger. Just about to dig into Small Island by Levy. Phoenix on the stereo.

Sat Phone Questions: Ben, no, not out of cigarettes yet. Thought I would be, but making better time than expected and in high seas I don’t smoke much. Three packs left. Probably run out the day I drop anchor.

Mom – I’ve read accounts about old salts eating the flying fish, but not sure how to prepare. Even big ones are pretty small. Unless you just fry and eat the whole thing I wouldn’t know what to do with them. Hate fishy oil in the boat as it stinks the place up so not eager to try them out.

Day 16 – Thursday May 13th, 2010 – 612 Miles to Go

It is without question the prettiest day I’ve seen since I left Galapagos. The deep azure sea blends with the light blue grey sky in all directions. The white froth that boils on top of the waves seem reflected in the small cotton ball clouds that dot the sky. It is hard to tell where one ends and the other begins.

The winds have eased off and I am running under full sail at 5.5 – 6 knots in 12 knots of breeze. Reluctantly, I’ve opened a can of tuna to make tuna salad sandwiches which taste surprisingly good with plenty of mayo, onion, green pepper, salt, Tabasco, and ground black pepper on my homemade bread. Fresh chicken of the sea be damned. Starkist works just fine.

I still have a few questionable potatoes, onions, and peppers on board, but that is about it for fruit and produce. There are a few slices of Galapagos pinapple left, but I fear even those have started to ferment. My eggs must be cracked into a glass before being added to the skillet to ensure there is no rot within. I am dreaming of a huge salad, no holds barred green fest. Maybe with a side of civiche.

With luck, five more days and I’ll have the anchor down in safe harbor and can let sleep wash over me like the waves.