Aug 27

Written by:
8/27/2010 1:20 PM 

On Passage: August 25, 2010

Other than a few day sails and one overnight run I haven’t covered any real miles since I arrived in Tahiti a few months ago. The trepidation was strong before this jump as it is before any jump, but the long absence amplified my fears.

Out here now, surrounded by deep blue sea, white capped swells, and cotton ball clouds I know why I love this life. It is full of beauty and I am moved every time I submit myself to be surrounded by its elements. 365 miles to Aitutaki.

I’ve been reading Steinbeck’s A Life in Letters. Although it is a joy to discover the humility, insecurities, joy, and laughter that embodied the man, I am taking more from his technique than anything else. I still aspire to be a writer of some sort, but have never had a class or the slightest instruction in how to make it so. A Life in Letters and the words of my favorite writer are giving me my first real guidance.

I’ve found some discipline through the blog, but will need to instill much more on my daily routine if I have any hope of creating a book worth the paper it will be printed on. I have the time and I have the story of the past few years to draw upon, now I must force the start of the thing.

Steinbeck had a rubber stamp he’d occasionally use to sign his letters. The mark was called Pigasus and was a stately pig with wings still walking the ground. The emblem signified being firmly rooted to the earth, but aspiring always to greater things.

August 26th, 2010

One of the prettiest days I’ve ever had at sea. The wind is a steady 10 knots, seas between 3 – 5 feet, sky clear with a few patchy clouds. I could hear my sails flogging when I first woke and had to change my plan. I was running wing on wing to make Aitutaki, but with light winds the swells roll Jargo from side to side back winding the sails then snapping them tight on the alternate role. It is one of the things I hate the very most about downwind sailing.

So I’ve added on 60 miles to this leg, turned more southerly and am going with my original plan of calling at Rarotonga. With the wind on the beam the sailing is gorgeous, sails are full, and the roll is steady. Raro has a difficult harbor for singlehanders in that I either have to med more or anchor with both bow and stern anchors. It is a small harbor which means close quarters maneuvering while trying to manage the anchor on the bow, stern lines or stern anchor, and driving the boat all at once. I am hoping a little pleading with the port captain will get me a temporary berth side tied to the inner harbor until I can find a hand to assist with getting med moored or anchored.

Not many boats seem to be coming this way this year so I am hoping the harbor is mostly empty. It has also become a custom for cruising boats to load up on supplies in Rarotonga to be delivered in Palmerston Atoll where cargo ships call only every six months. Jargo can carry a few books and jars of peanut butter for the 50 some odd people who call the small atoll home.

They sky is golden and the sun is setting. I am almost done with Life in Letters but the real life hero of this story is about to die and I don’t want to finish. Maybe if don’t turn the last page the man won’t really be gone? 270 Miles to Rarotonga.

Friday August 27th, 2010

The sound of wind whistling in the steel rigging wire has been replaced by the slow drone of four cylinders compressing atomized diesel until it explodes. A gentle breeze turns the black caps of the anemometer that reads 3.5 knots in the cockpit. The GPS shows a velocity of 4.0 knots towards Rarotonga, the pace of a long legged man walking casually on a paved road. All sail hangs impotently, too heavy to be influenced by the waning wind. The sunlight drives deep into the clear blue water and the waves of yellow play in the abyss. Steinbeck died again just as he must every time a reader finishes A Life in Letters.

172 plodding, but not unpleasant miles to Rarotonga. It will be a sleepless night as my pace has me threading a needle between the islands of Atiu and Takutea sometime near midnight. The full of the moon is some comfort as it turns night into day with the reflection of a 1000 waves.