4/10 Thursday: At Sea--Day 5

Finally making good COG/VMG towards Cali. Course is 038, speed around 6, position 27:14/158:30.

Good news: Luke came on deck smiling and feeling good yesterday for the first time. I mean not the first time on deck, just the feeling good part. He's been a trooper the whole time, just not able to contribute as much as he's wanted to due to a rather severe case of the seasicks. In spite of it he's been cooking, and standing watches--but I know all too well how he's been feeling. So it's kind of a major feeling of celebration to see him being chatty, being a smart-ass, and finally able to enjoy the boat at sea.

Other news:

Issues:

Seems we committed a small sin of omission at the Ko Olina docks before departure. Somehow, in the hullabaloo surrounding last minute departure prep, the water tanks didn't get topped off, and we realized yesterday that we are pretty low. We should have left with 80 gals in the two tanks, but as of yesterday afternoon found that one is nearly empty and the other has about ten G left. There are 3-5 gallons spares, another 10 in emergency supplies in the life-raft, and then there's the water maker. At least we hope there's the water maker--since we left a full two days before our projected departure date we never had a chance to test it. Peter says it was tested and working fine before leaving NZ last year, so it should be ok, but one never knows until trying... More on this later; for now we think there's not a major problem.

--Shower drain pump not working
--main batteries ("house") not coming easily to full charge.
--leaks at port/aft dorade and behind starboard bunk cupboard (rendering bunk un-useable and half my gear stowed in cupboard area soaked).

Things I've worked on during the trip so far:
--engine maintenance (OC, FFC, seawater strainer change)
--battery and terminal maintenance
--hose clamps checked/tightened (all systems)
--head pump repaired
--pressure water system fixed (loose fitting)
--"Whale" bilge pump ( found hole in pickup hose, tried to patch it, but pump still not sucking at pump with intake hose removed--work to be done ashore)
--sink drain (plumbers epoxy cuz couldn't find fittings at drop out)
--battens 1&2 (cut old #2 batten to fit #1 slot, cut lap joint, fit, fiberglass/epoxy splice two new pieces to make a new #2 batten, grind and form to fit carbon fiber slot at sail luff edge. Repair done at sea.)
--Devise forepeak stowage
--fix stupid WestMarine gear hammock. Twice.
--Figure out Monitor self-steering, re-rig lines
--

4/10 Thursday (later)

So we had a nice sail-powered run today, as approached the top of the Hawaiin trades and began the great-circle turn towards NA. This time the weather router's predictions have been on the money. We've been able to make suggested way-points on time, and forecasted weather changes have materialized as promised. Such a luxury. Compared with anyone who has done the same without the benefit if of GPS, sat-nav systems--we are really just a bunch of punters. However, this crew has not an ounce of hubris in it. We are fully aware that whatever advantage we seem to have is at best transitory, and likely to be tested in the extreme.

But for right now, in this moment, the  water is calm, the ship is sound, and, as I promised early on, bread is baking in the galley oven--nearly done now, so I gotta end this for the moment. Hoping to contact folks ashore tonight via ships comms--but we'll see...

Later:

Bread was baked and a rousing success, although I can see I have some experimenting to do to get it the way I like it. Needs more elasticity. Maybe more kneading, maybe an egg or two? But worked, just the same. The one loaf I made disappeared quickly, and became dinner. Bread with butter, bread with jam, bread with Mannukah honey, bread with Jarlsberg and mustard...

22:00--Wind is gone sea is flat calm--as much as the jolly Pacific can be, I guess. Remain so happy that Luke seems to be done with seasick. He's a great guy, and I hurt for him, going through that--but go through it he did.

Think I found, and hopefully fixed, the source of the leak that was soaking the stuff in my cupboards. Cuz was calm today, was able to carefully inspect, close up, the seams on the starboard side at deck line. Found clearly noticeable gaps in the calling between the gunwale and deck, exactly where you'd expect to find them if you wanted to account for water coming in where it has been. Cleaned the gaps with brake cleaner and dry rags, and silicone-sealed them. Won't know til the next strong seas if I have it right..,

We're motor-sailing for lack of wind, which arrived (or disappeared, depending on your point if view) just about when the Router said it would. So we're on track to pick up our next  waypoint pretty much on time. The first two days out of Oahu were a wash--virtually no miles made good to destination, but we've been knockin' em out for the past three, and are now on the great circle route bound for 40 degrees, which should bring us in to Cali coast around Fort Bragg, and then along the downhill run to SF Bay.

Irksome is still that my wet gear is stuffed in around the the fresh water heater, but just kinda stewing there, due to lack of air flow. Just irksome, tho, no big deal. I have enough cold weather gear to handle the trip, pretty sure.

Peter, Luke and I are doing very well as a team, and seems like the basis for a solid friendship is being laid. We all seem to be able to communicate with each other well, talk about issues without making problems out if then--kinda the best kind of male configuration one can hope for...

Peter and I work well together. Our skills complement each other, and so far we haven't run up against anything we couldn't find a mutually acceptable way to deal with.

The weather tomorrow afternoon is supposed to get a whole lot more challenging. Looking for much higher winds, cold, heavy rain squalls, supposedly just for a few hours.

I've been sleeping in the cockpit the past few nights, which has been lovely. Sleep in my Foulies under the Bimini/dodger, on the lee side. Sleep very well, too. But heavy weather would make that quite bit more challenging. And even if my deck-seal repairs prove effective, they might not keep water from getting in  from the starboard side dorade, and dribbling onto my bunk the way it did earlier on. Then at least the weather and water was warm. Can't expect that from here on, given the latitude.

But that's all still at least a little bit in the future. Meanwhile, we have tested the water-maker and found it working to spec, so one of our problems is no longer a problem. Now, anyhow.

4/4 Friday: Provisioning, and The Great God Costco

So, grocery list in hand, Luke and I sally forth to make a dent in the grocery shopping for Sunyata this morning. We might have been a little premature, not having finished calculations and menu planning--but the consensus was kinda let's just go and get the stuff we know we want, based on a 45 minute discussion of general menus... Then, when we get back we'll figger out how best to pack it into the storage spaces available. There was talk of dividing the booty into meals, based on the menus we had agreed on, in separate containers, each labelled with day and meal, packed accordingly, so we would just have to reach into the top of any given compartment and pull out the next meal.

However, in order to make this a practical solution, a German crew member, or maybe Gordon Ramsey, would have had to have been here.

When one is shopping at Costco, one tends to fall under a certain illusion that the packages one is stacking in the industrial-sized grocery carts are not really THAT big. And, in all fairness to the rest of the crew, I tend to think big when it comes to grocery shopping; i.e., I tend to operate on the general maxim that more is generally better. And the other one, that "if you have it you can use it--if you don't you can't".

So, eleven hundred dollars and three dock-carts later, when we arrived back at the boat, with enough food to provision a small military incursion into the Arctic, and yet still no basic staples, like rice (since the smallest bag of it was 15 pounds), or flour (likewise), we couldn't help notice that the skipper (a vegetarian who is quite happy with some rice and veggies and a piece of fruit or two during a 24 hour period) was somewhat distraught when he saw what we had brought. 

The last time I went on such a provisioning run was with Achim and Erika back in 2004, in preparation for a Trans-Atlantic crossing, and we loaded a helluva lot more food on board than Luke and I did today, so I guess my acquiescence to the stuff that landed in our carts in Costco might have been somewhat due to that memory. But, on review, I remember that they were provisioning for something like 6 months at sea, for a family of four (plus friends and relations they would connect with in the southern Caribbean).

Chagrin is a word that pops into my consciousness.

As it happened, though, it turned out that most of our Costco purchases went over very well with the crew. Even when the reefer quit some days into the trip, things that we assumed would long since have gone off didn't. Things that were initially viewed as perhaps superfluous or overkill (huge chunks of parmesan, Jarlsberg, Coastal Cheddar, a case of Cliff Bars, another case of fig bars, Sabra hummous, beef and Ahi tuna jerky, large quantities of macadamia nuts, bottled pineapple and cranberry juice, etc. etc.) provided comfort during long nights and days of rough weather. One downside was plastic packaging--more on this later.

Costco carried the lion's share of our food provisioning burden--but we spent quite a bit at the local health-food store (Down to Earth), with a few items picked up last minute at Safeway the night before departure.

3/31 Monday: So WTF Have I Been Doing Since I Got Here?

Well. Stuff. you know. The things one does when faced with a minor challenge, which must be met by appropriate action. Figure out what needs to be done (1). Figure out how to do it (2). Do it (3).

Seems like every day starts with a list of things to do before we can depart these idyllic shores; we do as many of them as we can, and by the end of the day we have, somehow, a slightly longer list than we started with.

It's just amazing the number of things there are on a boat to think about, and plan for. I wonder if the Vikings had similar lists. I know Thor Heyerdahl did--but maybe he doesn't count.

As of now we are looking at something like end of the week (sometime around April 4-6) for departure from Oahu back to SF (Sausalito). Peter's son Luke is arriving (we hope) on Sunday, and then it's just a matter (did I just say "just"? Ack! I taught my guys at Valley Wagonworks NEVER to use that word in the context of what it is that needs to be done. It seems, based on loads of anectdotal evidence, that each time this word ("just") is invoked, the whole damn project finds ways of ensuring that "just"-ice is not served.)

Nevertheless, we push on. And we don't have to cut down balsa trees and move them to the sea unspeakable distances through the rain forest. We deal with electronics, hull maintenance, engine and transmission oil and coolant changes, accumulating tools, spare parts, groceries. Personal flotation devices, EPIRBS, radio and satellite communications (so we can let you all know what is happening while at sea), etc.

And everybody has to get up to speed using all of it, since everything has to some extent or another changed since last time we did this.

And then there's getting to know the boat, and rigging, and sail-handling... A lot of it is very familiar, but another lot of it is boat-specific ( I have never sailed a ketch, for example, and all of them are just a little different).

3/23 Sunday: Rusty Traveller

Rusty Traveller

So. Having more-or-less sorted out arrangements for the care-taking of my flat, especially of Poppy the cat, as I head for Hawaii for five or six weeks to help an old customer of ours at Valley Wagonworks bring his boat (a Shannon 38 ketch-rigged sailboat named) home again on the last leg of its voyage from New Zealand, via Tahiti and Hawaii, I am rudely awakened to how much of my travel-savvy has gone out to lunch (with no mention of when it will be back, regardless of the fact that customers are waiting). I am thus made aware of my inadequacy by the fact that 1. I managed to leave my credit card behind at the bar of Pier 15 in the Canal district of San Rafael, having stopped in for a bite and a double gin-tonic on the way to the airport, and 2. That my wallet disappeared somehow on the way to the airport aboard the Marin Airporter.

I discovered the loss of both approaching check-in at the airport, while reaching for the wallet that wasn't there. As luck would have it, the thought earlier occurred to me that since we are going to be sailing from Hawaii back to San Francisco via what might be a circuitous route, that we would actually be literally traveling overseas, and as such, given the tendency for things not necessarily to go the way we want them to, that it might be a good idea to bring along a passport, in case some other nation got inadvertently involved. So, I was able to check in, and in due course, found myself seated in the plane for Honolulu. Next to Liz. More about that in a bit. For some reason, I was not terribly concerned about either my missing credit card, or wallet. Might have had something to do with the double gin and tonic, but in fact I am so happy to be traveling, so happy to be flying again, and I figure there's nothing I can do about any of it, that I just settle in and focus on enjoying the ride.

So, Liz:

Mahalo, says Hawaii to me, in the very sweet form of Liz, sitting next to me on the flight, a 23 year old, pretty, petite young Hawaiian resident--originally from Utah but looks like she belongs to the islands, with her silky, waist-length black hair in a braid, big brown eyes and an easy, winning smile under high cheekbones--on her way back from a European trip she was leading with a large bunch of Asian-looking Hawaiian high-school students. They had come today from Rome, via Amsterdam. She has a lovely, easy, honest presence. We talk about all kindsa stuff. But she is beat from the day's work. Herding a bunch of kids from hotel through multiple airports and now on the last leg of the trip wants more than anything just to be able to sleep. I am aware of every little nuance of her body's movement. Her arms, legs and head are all over the place, looking for comfort. She stops moving for a minute, sort of surrendered with head leaning forward, and without any thought my hands reach out and start working on her neck and shoulders. She sighs and relaxes into it. Goes on for five minutes or so. So nice.

So for the course of the ride, we chat, kinda lean against each other in the way that strangers don't usually do in close proximity on any form of public transport (at least not consensually, or so I assume). Seeking good sleeping postures, her left leg gets draped over my right. And I don't move a single muscle for one and a half solid hours while watching The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. She wakes up a couple times during the film (she picked that one to watch too), and rewinds it so she can see the parts she missed. But never needed to disentangle herself from me.

And at the end of the trip she was busy with her flock of high-schoolers. We met again at baggage claim, when Peter was there to pick me up. I assumed she would focus on getting her kids out of there, and imagined she might not acknowledge me at all-but I was mistaken. Just before she got them all rounded up and headed in the same direction, she came over to say "bye". And gave me a big hug, and when I said it was really nice travelling with her, she said the same and I wished her luck with her life and all her endeavors, and she did the same and then she was gone.

Mahalo, Oahu!