August 20, 2007

August 19, 2007

August 18, 2007

August 17, 2007

August 16, 2007

August 15, 2007

August 14, 2007

August 13, 2007

August 12, 2007

August 11, 2007

August 10, 2007

August 9, 2007

August 8, 2007

August 7, 2007

July 25, 2007 - ARRIVED in Hawaii

July 25, 2007

July 24, 2007 - Special

July 24, 2007

July 23, 2007

July 22, 2007

July 21, 2007

July 20, 2007

July 19, 2007

July 18, 2007

July 17, 2007

July 16, 2007

July 15, 2007

July 14, 2007

July 13, 2007

July 12, 2007

July 11, 2007

July 10, 2007

July 8, 2007

July 7, 2007

Noon to noon, July 10 to 11, our distance run was 121nm and our course made good was 006M.

Yesterday, we sailed in mostly sunny conditions. We ran an impromptu man overboard drill, recovering Duane's hat on the first try. Later, dinner was spicy, sauteed prawns and potatoes, very tasty. It is getting warmer, and below decks it is also quite humid, with very limited fresh air circulation.

Last night was squally and wet as we sailed North, more or less, through bands of low, dark lead-bellied clouds, with alternating periods of clear, starry skies and monsoon-like downpours. Our track on the chart plotter weaves back and forth as the wind changed direction with each passing squall and as we tacked to try to maintain a course somewhere between Japan and Chile. Not a great way to make mileage, but we have to sail through whatever we get. A low swell from the SE, and wind waves from the North, make for different boat speeds between the two tacks. When we are running the engine to charge the batteries, and if the wind and boat speed are low, we put the engine in gear to make a little extra progress, mindful always of conserving our limited supply of diesel.

This morning we are sailing North, close-hauled on starboard tack in 7-10 knots under mostly clear skies. We are looking for the barometer to rise and for the wind to veer to the E or SE over the next day or so.

Jeff has been doing a great job as crew, standing his own watch, demonstrating natural ability to steer by hand with admirable concentration, helping with the galley and generally being a human ray of sunshine. Five stars! We have been playing some of the games that we brought with us including one on Canadian history and another on world geography. A good sized flying fish landed on the deck and expired before we noticed it; we examined it carefully and Jeff observed that it had a lot of fins for controlling its flight through the water and air. Another one went flying from the bow area, along the lifelines and safely back into the water behind the boat.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Noon to noon, July 11 to 12, our distance run was 109nm and our course made good was 008M.
Noon to noon, July 12 to 13, our distance run was 155nm and our course made good was 007M.

Some days from now, we will pass by Starbuck Island, part of French Polynesia, marked on the chart as 15 feet high, landing dangerous, huts and cabins in ruins, guano. No frequent customer cards or WiFi there, I imagine. Just in case, though, would you like me to pick you up a grande non-fat latte with one pump of vanilla?

Thursday, a beautiful day, warm, light air, some distant clouds. Wind from the North, just where we want to go ... Full main and genoa, close hauled. Thursday evening, the breeze died off and we motored for seven hours, fully charging the batteries and running the watermaker to fill a water tank before getting enough wind to furl the Code Y (Yanmar). Dinner was chicken tikka masala. Friday morning, reefed main and genoa furled to #3, a close reach at 7.5-8.5 knots of boat speed in 12-15-18 knots of breeze and building seas. Now, clear skies over us, clouds all around. The sea an intense, bottomless blue, fringed with whitecaps.

Jeff has done some great sketches and we've been doing more geography quizzes. We fished yesterday in the lighter air with no luck. A few tropic birds, hundreds of miles from the nearest land, hovered and plunged over the lure which we quickly jigged so they couldn't take it. Overnight, we sailed in loose formation with at least three huge tuna boats, passing the lead boat before dawn. This morning, we'd like to fish again as we're obviously in a productive area, however we are sailing too fast!

We're really enjoying the messages from the home front. You can email us at kinetic (at) kineticsailing (dot) com.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Noon to noon, our distance run was 179nm and our course made good was 014M.

We are romping along at 7.5 - 8.5 knots in the Southeast trade winds which are blowing steadily between 15 and 20 knots. Seas are on the beam, about 1.5 metres with some larger sets. Single reef in the main, genoa furled to #3, starboard tack, heeled 15 degrees. Skies are clear, some scattered clouds. The decks are staying wet from the occasional tops of waves.

A tropic bird is flying low overhead, appearing to eye up the boat as a potential resting perch.

Abeam to starboard, about 180 miles away, is Vostok Island. We have passed Penrhyn Island, one of the Northern Cook Islands, abeam to port at about 150 miles. 225 miles distant, also to port, lies Starbuck Island. We are less than 600 miles from the equator. Equator and islands all may be imaginary, as we can see none of them and have not seen any land for 750 miles!

Yesterday, Duane and Jeff had a great sketching session, doing portraits of the other crew members. Jeff and David played Crazy Eights and the onboard luckmeister Jeff won again. Rae and Jeff picked out constellations, nebulae, stars and planets last night, in perfect conditions for astronomers, other than the bouncy motion of the observatory moving over and through the waves. Mike is sporting a grey beard, or is that a greybeard? Early this morning Jeff spotted a small bird resting on the water. Today we are all hot and lethargic. Our two electric fans are running full time.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Noon to noon, our distance run was 154nm and our course made good was 013M.

We presently have the same sailing and weather conditions as yesterday, except that the SE trade winds are blowing ten degrees North of East here, so we are almost close hauled, beating to maintain and gain precious Easting before we reach the NE trades.

We spotted a group of seabirds wheeling and swooping over a school of frenzied baitfish splashing at the surface, which in turn were being hunted by a group of larger fish, presumably tuna. We slowed the boat a little, headed up to pass near the ball of fish, and ran out a lure on a line. Nothing. An hour later we retrieved our lure and resumed normal sailing. After a further hour, we saw another group of birds over another splash zone of fish, and ran out our lure again. David set the drag on the reel and a few seconds later, "zzzzzing" went the line off the reel as a fish hit the lure hard and ran with it. Mike turned the boat into the wind, Jeff retrieved the harness, Rae took photos and Duane handled the gaff. Soon a twenty five pound bluefish tuna was on the boat, cleaned and, within an hour, the first servings of sashimi with soy sauce and wasabi were consumed. As this species of tuna can grow to 1,500 pounds, we all agreed that we had caught a fish of just the right size. We have 20 tuna steaks and lots of sashimi in the freezer now.

Mike has shaken off the cold he carried to Rarotonga, Rae is still processing hers, and the rest of us still have our fingers crossed. In this climate and these conditions, the boat is anything but a clean, dry, sterile environment that would inhibit the transmission of germs. Duane is proving an excellent coach and antidote for Jeff's heat-induced lethargy. Now if we could just get them to stop pitching the soft drink cans across the cabin, as the occasional misses result in spectacular explosions of wet sticky spray that coats everything.

Jeff learned to use the radar yesterday, and just after dark, under a sky mixed with stars and clouds, he turned the radar on again, only to reveal three large targets, apparently tuna boats, steaming SW at well over 15 knots right across our path. Four more boats soon followed, evidence of a mass migration of considerable urgency by the fleet. Tense moments ensued. Two targets passed within two miles of our position, yet we saw no lights, no boat silhouettes and we received no response to our VHF or searchlight. We were all very appreciative of Jeff's diligence as we would not otherwise have known that other boats were anywhere near us, until we belatedly realized that the radar targets were rain squalls, quite oblivious to the international maritime legal requirements to show lights and maintain a proper lookout.

Later that night, five or six dolphins made luminous torpedo tracks towards the boat, crossing back and forth under the boat and playing in the bow waves, playfully whiling away time and miles. Plate-sized globules of phosphorescent plankton made brilliant underwater flashes like a old fashioned camera flash bulb.

Later still, we sailed into a series of large squalls, the last being about four miles by six miles in area and packing a heavy deluge of cool rain. The leading edge raised the wind speed from ten to twenty three knots and pulled the wind direction around sharply, and by the time the trailing edge finally rolled over us, the wind dropped to five knots and we floundered about in seas that were as confused as we were.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Noon to noon, our distance run was 159 nm and our course made good was 015M.

The seared tuna steaks that we had for dinner last night were a real delight.

We had more dolphins alongside overnight, small dark ones, leaping clear of the water in the starlight.

Early this morning, we were passed by a large ship which forced us to put in a couple of tacks due to the closeness of his approach. There was no indication that he saw us visually, or on radar, or that he heard our call on the radio. This despite the facts that Rae first saw his lights when he was ten miles behind us, and we tracked him continuously on radar.

Jeff tossed a dead flying fish into the water and a Booby quickly recovered it. We've also been seeing a fair number of Sooty Terns, often in pairs.

We have passed by Starbuck Island, alas some 115 miles off our port side, without seeing it or stopping there. No frappacino's to cool us off. Now abeam, also to port about 100 miles distant, is Malden Island, described in one of our guidebooks simply as "rather barren".

We continue to have enough wind to sail and make progress in the right direction, almost all the time. We've been doing well at conserving our finite supply of diesel for charging batteries and against the probability of light winds in the Inter Tropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ) near the equator. A few squalls and some rain overnight, but mostly clear skies. The new moon gently cradled the old moon whilst the stars and planets were brilliant once again.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Noon to noon, our distance run was 174 nm and our course made good was 008M.

Last night we saw the blinking lights of a Northbound airplane. Our dolphin escort made their seemingly regular appearance at night, and a bonus appearance during the day.

We have had champagne sailing conditions since yesterday. We are close reaching under full sail at seven to eight knots of boat speed in nine to twelve knots of wind, in almost flat seas! Heel is fifteen to twenty degrees. Sun by day and an amazing sky by night. Almost no clouds and no direct hits by rain squalls. Warm above decks but bearable due to the breeze. Warm and humid below decks. The autohelm is doing all the steering, with little effort due to the well balanced sail plan.

As we are now within 112 miles of the Equator, we hope to cross it tomorrow. We have no pollywogs on board this time, rather we are shellbacks all.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Noon to noon, our distance run was 169 nm and our course made good was 003M.

We have crossed the Equator! Kinetic has returned to the Northern Hemisphere for the first time in a year.
Everyone onboard has previously crossed the Equator by sea, so we are all "shellbacks". Those unfortunate souls who have not yet crossed the Equator are called pollywogs, and they have yet to face King Neptune. As shellbacks, we were spared this trial and each enjoyed a tot of rum, with an extra one poured over the side for King Neptune, who cooperatively stayed under the seas. Jeff and Rae prepared two pumpkin pies, sans pie crusts, as a special treat to mark our progress.

As Rarotonga lies in latitude 21 South, and Hawaii in latitude 21 North, crossing the Equator was indeed our halfway point on this part of the voyage.

The wind has withered to a whisper, a not uncommon occurrence in this area which is known as the Inter Tropical Convergence Zone, or ITCZ, and the water is close to calm. It almost feels like a sailboat race, except that we are motoring to continue to make progress, instead of slatting around aimlessly.

We did our first transfer of diesel from jerry cans to one of the built-in fuel tanks, and in the process David dropped one full jerry can overboard, leading to our second impromptu, and successful, "man" overboard recovery drill. The bright yellow can was easily visible in the swells, even though it floated very low in the water.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Noon to noon, our distance run was 162 nm and our course made good was 352M.

We're still motoring in very light and variable winds of 1-3 knots. The skies are clouding over and threatening rain squalls as we approach the ITCZ. There is a tropical depression, Cosme, currently about eight hundred miles to the Northeast, which should pass well to the North of us as it heads West.

Yesterday, we saw some remarkably small birds, probably Wilson's Storm Petrels, hundreds of miles from any land. Last night, we had two tuna boats pass slowly behind us, while we cautiously headed roughly parallel to a twelve mile long line of four floating marks with white strobe lights, very low in the water and visible only when within about two miles. Nets? Longlines? Fish attractors or wireless fences?

We have passed Christmas Island, part of Kiribati, pronounced Kiribass, about 315 miles to our port side. We are drawing abeam of Fanning Island, which we visited last year, also part of Kiribati, some 430 miles away.

We caught and released another small skipjack tuna this morning.

Back from an unscheduled interruption to this report, we have just caught dinner in the form of another tuna, this time a respectable if still modest size of about ten pounds.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Noon to noon, our distance run was 164 nm and our course made good was 353M.

One item missed from our last report was that we have had several sightings of large dolphins / small whales that we have tentatively identified as melon-headed whales; they could also be pygmy killer whales as the two are hard to distinguish, all according to our guidebook.

We've been seeing more Boobies and a few Gannets. Lots of flying fish. Seems they go together ...

Winds continue light, mostly less than five knots, and seas are fairly lumpy due to some cross swells. The Code Y (Yanmar diesel engine) drones on day and night. Despite, or more correctly because of, a fair amount of cloud cover and some rain squalls, conditions are quite warm and muggy. We hope to break through to North of the ITCZ sometime today, and to resume real sailing.

Duane spread colourful sparkles around Club Kinetic disco last night.

We ran out of pages in the logbook and started a new one this morning.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Noon to noon, our distance run was 169 nm and our course made good was 349M.

At night we can see both the Southern Cross and the North Star, icons of their respective hemispheres. Satellites and airplanes transiting the night sky remind us that we are not really along, just a very long way from anywhere ... Unfortunately, we have also seen a lot of plastic jetsam. We passed quite close by a very large sea turtle and we're not sure who was the most surprised! Hopefully he stays away from the plastic.

We are traveling through a area with groups of dozens of Spinner Dolphins, hundreds or more in total. They leap completely out of the water, spinning like figure skaters, before splashing back into the water. Cautiously, they move away from the boat as it approaches.

Light winds continue, mostly less than five knots. The wind direction is settling into the East. A low swell from the Northeast rolls the boat and flogs the sails, prompting us to take them down while motoring. The sun beats down and shade is at a premium.

Despite receiving fan mail on the subject, no further details will be forthcoming regarding Duane's recent sparkling performance.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Noon to noon, our distance run was 177 nm and our course made good was 335M.

We have our wind back, 12-16 knots from the East, and we are close reaching with a reefed main and jib. Hatches and ports are closed again due to the prospect of shipping sea water.

Last evening, we had to drop the genoa to do some unscheduled maintenance on the lower bearing for the furling system. Fortunately, conditions were calm at the time and the work was completed sucessfully. Overnight we had some squalls before the sky cleared for another magical night sky. This morning we are sailing under the hot tropical sun with some scattered clouds.

A few birds, many flying fish, another day of champagne sailing.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Noon to noon, our distance run was 197 nm and our course made good was 330M.

We have solid trade winds now, 18-22 knots from the Northeast, and we are close reaching with a double reefed main and jib. The ride through the building beam seas is boisterous at times, with lots of water over the bow. We are doing boat speeds mostly in the 8's and 9's and our last 24 hours set a new daily run record for this particular passage.

Mixed sun and clouds, a few isolated rain squalls.

Running low on fresh vegetables but still lots of other food on board. Harder to cook in these conditions, so we are keeping meals simple for now.

Will need to do some maintenance in Hawaii - refrigeration, mainsail, etc.

Happy Birthday to son Graeme.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Noon to noon, our distance run was 202 nm and our course made good was 323M.

Trade winds continue, 18-22 knots from the Northeast. We are still reaching with a double reefed main and jib. The ride through the beam seas is boisterous at times, with lots of water on the deck. We are doing boat speeds consistently in the 8's with some 9's and our last 24 hours set a new daily run record, again, for this particular passage.

Saw one ship by the loom of her lights and then on radar last night. Only one airplane, surprising given that we are so close to Hawaii. At least we think we are.

Mostly sunny with a few scattered clouds, a little cooler at night.

The crew has island fever, a direct product of sixteen days in a humid sauna.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

July 25, 2007 at 1200 local time
Position:  20-43.1N, 157-25.8W

Noon to noon, our distance run was 180 nm and our course made good was 319M.

We are approaching Honolulu, Oahu on a close reach under blue skies with Hawaiian temperature and humidity and should be there by this evening. 

David.

Noon to noon, our distance run was 171 nm and our course made good was 351M.

Trade winds initially 15-20+ now 10-15 East. Close reaching. Seas low-moderate. 50% cloud cover. A few distant squalls.

Departed Honolulu Monday August 6 at 1118 local time, bound for Victoria. Crew is Graeme, Duane, Doug, Maureen, Christopher, Patrick and David.

Saw turtles as we left Ala Wai. Flying fish, birds; lots of planes and one other vessel overnight. Some crew seasick yesterday. Most better this morning.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Noon to noon, our distance run was 185 nm and our course made good was 357M.

Trade winds 10-15 from 070-95T. Close reaching. Seas low. 25-50% cloud cover. A few distant squalls.

Tropic birds eyeing the mast for resting perches; none actually landed.

Sick bay now empty.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Noon to noon, our distance run was 183 nm and our course made good was 351M.

Trade winds 10-15, trending lighter, from 065-090T. Close reaching. Seas low. An area of clouds and a few squalls to 20+ knots overnight, clear with 25% cloud cover now.

Everyone seems to have adapted to the motion at sea and as a result appetites are gradually returning to normal. Gentle conditions are helping. Duane, Graeme and Maureen have been keeping the crew fed. Today's treat is walnuts, pan-heated with "braggs" - an Australian soy-based concoction. Very salty.

We passed with 1.5nm miles of another boat at night, two nights ago. Nothing since. Some small plastic garbage drifting by. Airplanes overhead. Lots of shooting stars. At night we are steering directly at the North Star and, other than a few periods when it is obscured by clouds, wouldn't need any other navigational aid for this part of the voyage.

We've made about 500 miles progress Northward from Hawaii and are noticing a gentle drop in the temperature already. We're hoping it's still summer when we get home.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Noon to noon, our distance run was 175 nm and our course made good was 001M.

We are still in the Northeast trade winds, which are actually blowing from the East and are now fairly light at 8-13 knots. The sea is almost calm. 25% cloud cover, high.

During the afternoon, yesterday, Doug noticed a few dolphins approaching the boat, and then we could dozens converging on the boat, groups of three to five rising for breaths in unison, others gracefully arching out of the water and a few leaping impossibly high. Consulting our guidebook, they were Pantropic Spotted Dolphins which, as it turns out, do not always have visible spots. One had what appeared to be a yellow scientific tag on the left side of its back just forward of the dorsal fin.

Graeme inducted David into the current generation with a shared night watch viewing iPod podcasts, including some of Graeme's favourite "Ask a Ninja" episodes. David especially appreciated the Ninja review of "Pirates of the Carribean III", having recently endured the movie.

Patrick and Chris are soaking up the offshore sailing experience and are standing watches, trimming sails and helping with chores. Maureen spotted the loom of the lights of a ship somewhere over the horizon; soon there were several, one of which we paced all night long before dawn drowned the loom. It's interesting that ships are more visible at night, due to their lights, than they are during the day, even in bright, sunny conditions with "perfect" visibility.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Noon to noon, our distance run was 176 nm and our course made good was 047T.

We have reached the Southern area of the North Pacific High, with the wind veering to the East Southeast at 15-18 knots. Infrequent rain squalls mostly at night with wind in the low 20's. Seas are 5-7 feet and building. 25% cloud cover, high.

The North Pacific High is farther North than usual, and is forecast to move quickly to the West, making it impractical to follow the textbook approach of sailing all the way around the West and North sides of the High. Instead, we will cut the corner and spend some time sailing upwind. We are sailing on a lively close reach now, more or less pointing at Cape Flattery at the entrance of the Strait of Juan de Fuca, some 1,550 miles away. Ahead lie at least a few more weather transitions before we reach our home waters.

Everyone seems to be fully adapted and the early seasickness is now a memory. We are sailing with a partially furled jib and a single reef in the main, having spent over 800 miles on the same tack since leaving Hawaiian waters.

We've been inspecting this, tightening that and adjusting the other, all preventative maintenance, trying to stay one step ahead of Murphy.

Gourmet food continues to emanate from the galley thanks to Duane, Maureen, Graeme and Patrick. Chris is trimming sails and Doug drives the boat onward like he wants to get home soon.

We saw a large glass Japanese fishing float drifting nearby, but decided against trying to recover it as a souvenir due to the squally conditions at the time.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Barometer: 1025mB
Our 24 hour to noon distance run was 165 nm and our course made good was 047T.

After traveling almost 1,000 miles under sail since Hawaii, we are now motor-sailing (briefly, we hope) across the Southeastern edge of the High, with the barometer over 1025mb, winds less than 8 knots from 020T and seas a low residual slop. Colloquially, we are cutting the corner, and technically, we have also tacked for the first time. 90% cloud cover, mid to high altitudes. Noticeably cooler, no rain.

We have three teenage sleeping and eating machines (Sleams for short) on board and have come up with nicknames for each of them: Two-Patty (for eating two hamburgers at each sitting) P-Stick (for devouring a frying pan load of pot stickers) Em-Tee (for sleeping through two consecutive meals and wondering why he was hungry)

It's up to readers familiar with some or all of the boys to figure out which Sleam is which. Speaking of Sleams, they all had showers a few days ago, squeezing them into a busy schedule of, you guessed it, sleeping and eating. The rest of us had showers, too, so as not to be out paced by the Sleams. To be fair to the Sleams, they do engage in other, secondary activities including watch keeping, chores, storytelling ("my friend did _______"; MY friend did ________ and ________") and prodigious feats of reading such as consuming one Harry Potter book per day. That, of course, is getting harder as the later books have many more pages than the early ones.

Yesterday, a few times, we had a Laysan Albatross skimming gracefully just inches above the water, sinking and rising to each wave trough and peak, and sweeping back and forth across the boat's wake. These birds, although not the largest of albatross, have very impressive wing spans. Earlier, a bright white Tropic Bird with distinctive long narrow tail feathers made several very close passes to the mast and rigging, apparently looking for a convenient perch to rest upon. Timidness, or perhaps the arcing sweep of the mast through the air with each passing wave, eventually defeated the birds intention.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Barometer: 1018mB
Our 24 hour to noon distance run was 181 nm and our course made good was 059T.

The motor-sailing of yesterday was indeed brief, as we have successfully ducked under the High as it moved West over us. We've since been sailing in 15-20 knots, gusting to 25, from 330T i.e. on the port beam, along the rhumb line to Cape Flattery. In the last few hours the wind has veered and moderated a little and we are sailing about twenty degrees below or right of our 060T rhumb line. Cloud cover is 100%, with frequent low bands sweeping over us.

Regrettably, we had to don foul weather gear last night, marking a sharp transition from the previous thousands of miles sailed in shorts and shirts, during day and night, through sun and rain-showers. It is August and summertime at home, isn't it? You wouldn't lure us with a siren-song of illusory summer?

For those stuck ashore, and for a few dock-bound sailing friends, while rhumb and rum each have long histories associated with sailing, they have nothing to do with each other. You don't pour a tot of rhumb for King Neptune, and you surely don't wait in a rum line. Indeed, mixing up rhumb (which you steer to) and rum (which you drink) would be the mark of a real lubber.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Barometer: 1017mB
Our 24 hour to noon distance run was 149nm and our course made good was 087T.

We have been sailing more East than Northeast, due to yesterday's expected wind shift, and this has recently shifted back, so that we are again close reaching in the right direction. Wind is from 357T at 15-20 knots, with moderate seas and mid-level cloud cover of 95%, with blue sky above. It's a fairly wet and bouncy ride and a mild touch of mal de mere has returned intermittently for a few.

We have officially passed the half way point of this passage, measured in mileage rather than time, as no one knows how long the second half will take. The first half, in time, took 7 days 17 hours 42 minutes; this is significant only in that we have an on-board pool going as to when we will arrive at the dock in Victoria. At stake are both honour and ice-cream, and not necessarily in that order of importance. The winner buys the ice cream for everyone and gets to keep the honour.

We are now about 1,100 miles from land in any direction, and are more or less equidistant from Honolulu, San Francisco and Victoria. Out here, about as far as you can get from "anywhere", a large freighter paralleled our course about ten miles to starboard for several hours last night before finally disappearing over the horizon many miles ahead of us. We could still see it on radar long after its lights were no longer visible.

We had a few dolphins alongside during the night and, as it was quite dark, we could only hear their distinctive loud breaths and could not actually see them. There are sea birds, too, pelagically unconcerned with distance or time to land or ice cream.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Barometer: 1011mB
Our 24 hour to noon distance run was 182nm and our course made good was 059T.

We continue to be reaching in the right direction, and it's now more often a beam reach than a close reach. Wind is currently from 291T at 15-20 knots, with moderate seas and mid-level cloud cover of 75%. Every surface outside the boat is salt encrusted from waves and spray, and occasionally we get a brief fresh water rinse from a passing rain squall.

Most boats are great feats of thoughtful engineering. How great, you ask? For example, the modern marine head (toilet) uses salt water for flushing. For interior accommodation layout reasons, almost all marine heads are positioned to one side of the boat or the other, rather than in the middle. This means that the valves (thru-hulls) and hoses used to bring the salt water into the boat and to the head are also positioned to one side of the boat. So what? Heeled over on one tack, you cling to the head with the backs of your knees while the salt water rushes in and tries to sink the boat, and on the other tack, you cling to the head with your butt and cannot flush the toilet because the salt water intake valve is out of the water entirely. So another crew member must dip a bucket over the side of the boat to fill it with salt water, pass the slopping bucket down below to the still-clinging victim, who then has to dump the bucket into the head while pumping the lever furiously and trying to avoid wearing either the water or the unmentionables.

An engineering alternative seemingly unknown to the mainstream marine industry would be to put the head intake valve on the boat's centerline where it can always draw water (just like the engine cooling water intake valve), and position a second valve adjacent to the head for convenient open/close control. The boat wouldn't sink, and the customer wouldn't associate boating with smelling like you know what. Come to think of it, that would be good marketing, too.

Currently, we are on port tack with the head intake out of the water. Pass the bucket, please.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Barometer: 1009 mB
Our 24 hour to noon distance run was 186nm and our course made good was 058T.

We continue to be close reaching in the right direction. Wind is currently from 311T at 12 knots, with moderate seas and mid-level cloud cover of 75%. Overnight we broad reached for hours in 20-25 gusting to 30+, with a double reefed main and a partly furled jib, but it was too good to last!

In the relative calm of this morning we've attended to maintenance including replacing a mainsail batten end slider assembly, end-for-ending the genoa furling line (chafe), adjusting the 2nd reef line (chafe), tightening the boom gooseneck pin retaining nut, and so on. Yet to be done is replacement of the watermaker filters.

A few days ago we passed much too close by a floating mat of tangled one inch diameter rope, something that would be bad to get wrapped around the keel or rudder offshore and even worse to get wound into the propeller and shaft. Now, we sail through a sea of "man of war" jellyfish, each with its own individual sail to help it drift faster. It seems that even sailing was given to man by nature.

A few hours ago we were passing through an area of fairly dense low cloud (fog) and it occurred to Duane to discuss with Patrick (Em-Tee) how very important it is to keep a sharp lookout for fish boats and freighters so as to avoid a high seas collision. In such a vast ocean, with so few ships sighted and those usually at a very safe distance, the odds of a collision are quite low while the consequences are especially high, at least to the much smaller vessel. I think that is a concept well known to the insurance industry. You must already know what happened next. As our diligent watch keepers practiced peering around the full 360 degrees, a huge ship, stacked to the sky with containers, appeared out of the gloom going full speed and passed less than a mile behind us. He then appeared to alter course, suggesting that he had already maneuvered around us before we saw him. We were able to get a response on the VHF radio, the first in the two passages from Rarotonga to Honolulu and Honolulu to Victoria, and believe that they were able to see us on their radar. Whether that happened before or after we hailed them by radio was unclear due to language difficulties. A few scant minutes later, we broke out into an area of clear sky and good visibility while the freighter disappeared completely into the murk, bound for Los Angeles.

Speaking of Em-Tee, he says hold your head up high. Two-Patty says keep moving forward. P-Stick is sleep-reading. The latter two actually swamped the water out of the bilges with buckets and sponges, no mean feet in a pitching boat. The skipper tried to keep up by replacing a part on the water maker, an act requiring gymnastic contortions inversely proportional to how easily maintained the installation was claimed to be by the original installer. Old age and treachery beat youth and ambition, but it was closer than it used to be. Maureen and Doug shared a watch, urging the boat past the 8s and 9s into the double digits. On the basis of excessive sleeping, Maureen requested that she be designated as an honorary Sleam, but we've told her that she is ineligible due to her failure to consume a daily food ration in excess of her own weight. Duane flips personalized burgers out of the galley like a world class short order cook (or is that an oxymoron?). In short, all aboard are well.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Barometer: 1012 mB
Our 24 hour to noon distance run was 173nm and our course made good was 057T.

The wind is moderate at 9-12 knots, has backed to 250-285T over the past 24 hours and is now starting to veer. Leftover seas on our aft quarter are providing an irregular rolling motion. Clouds are high with 50% cover. The weather ahead is now looking fairly light.

We've seen four container ships in the last day and night. We've had radio contact with three and confirmation that we are reasonably visible on their radar. One ship even called us first, which was a first ... Three were bound for Los Angeles with the most recent bound for Tacoma in Washington State.

Not wanting to have any remaining fruit confiscated in Victoria, P-Stick (Graeme) is making fruit smoothies today. We're planning to use a battery operated electric drill for a blender.

Showers all the way around.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Barometer: 1002.0 mB
Our 24 hour to noon distance run was 181nm and our course made good was 053T.

The barometric pressure has dropped almost 10mB in 24 hours, we have sailed into a who-knows-how-vast field of low clouds and dank drizzle, seas are calm albeit a bit rolly and the wind has become light and variable. At the very least this confirms our chief naviguessors strong suspicion that we are getting closer to the Pacific Northwest. However, we're still not convinced that it really is August.

There is no risk that we will run out of provisions and we have ample supplies (touch wood) on board for the Code Y, the only sail in our inventory that is effective in these conditions.

Two-Patty (Chris) is looking forward to golf and a real bed to sleep on.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Barometer: 1006.0mB, rising
Our 24 hour to noon distance run was 168nm and our course made good was 052T.

Sunshine, warmth, flat calm "Pacific" seas, wind 271T at 4 knots. We are bringing a new High into the Pacific Northwest coast.

Dolphins leaping, a floating red light bulb, a seemingly-deaf freighter now passing close astern, one airplane and one tack overnight, full starscape with no moon.

One new challenge - separating salt water from the diesel that the Code Y runs on, and that we are currently entirely dependent on for progress. Please don't ask the skipper why. Seems to be going well.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

Barometer: 1007.8mB, rising
Our 24 hour to noon distance run was 198nm and our course made good was 055T.

Rounding Cape Flattery at the entrance to the Strait of Juan de Fuca.

Hello to everyone at home,
David.

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Last Updated: 15 May 2006

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