Get Lost On Purpose

Category: Sailing

  • Passage to New Zealand – Day 25

    Well at least it feels like day 25. Currently we’re beating into a 20 knot southwesterly that’s pushing us farther and farther to the west and completely away from our intended destination. Nothing is more frustrating in sailing than not being able to go in a straight line. It will definitely be Tuesday before we get in now. I was counting on those southeasterly winds to blow more than a few hours. I was using them for a nice southwesterly ride to prepare for the upcoming windshift. Then it would have been a simple beam reach straight to Opua with the North Island blocking the biggest of the seas. But as usual, the wind turned sooner than expected and here we are…stuck out in the middle of nowhere. We’re 137 miles due north of the Bay of Islands and sailing more towards Sydney. Typical.

    Hopefully tomorrow will be better.

  • Passage to New Zealand – Day 6

    For about 15 minutes earlier today I actually thought we would be able to turn off the motor and sail. Nope, my hopes were dashed when the wind picked up to 15, shifted right on the nose, and then promptly died to less than 5. So we’re still motoring. I know the wind was blowing here at some point today. The wavelets are still here flowing from west to east. We missed it. Damn.

    This is the longest I’ve ever run the motor on Dosia. We’re coming up on 48 hours straight. We have calm seas, lots of battery power, and plenty of hot water but honestly, I wish the wind would blow and we could get some sailing in. And, of course, when I say blow, I mean blow at 15 knots from the northwest. NOT 15-20 on the nose like it appears we’ll see our last day or two into New Zealand. Why is it that the last few hours or days of a long passage is always a beat???

    I wish I could tell you something exciting that happened today. Let’s see, I spent my night watches staring at my now 60,000+ collection of songs wondering if I’ll ever get around to organizing it. We had B.L.T.’s for lunch and then spent about thirty minutes transferring all the jerry cans of fuel into the main tank. We sent and received a bunch of emails. Then we watched two movies, drank a bottle of wine (to celebrate our crossing of 30 South), and ate some friend chicken. The rest of the time we were sleeping or reading or staring off at the horizon. That’s passages for you. I have found some relief on my night watches. I sit and listen to Radio Australia on the SSB radio. It’s basically the BBC of the South Pacific and it’s the most interesting thing I’ve found. Scanning the channels for hours on end in the Pacific I’ve found some oddball stuff. Many religious fanatics, Rush Limbaugh (ugh), a Chinese language lesson, and what sounded like two Truckers in Arizona having a semi-erotic conversation about fruit. If I spoke Japanese or Chinese or what sounds like Arabic, the options would be much greater but as it is, I need some English. Luckily our brothers in Oz are happy to oblige and broadcast 24 hours a day on about 12 different channels.

    Less than 350 miles to go. Come on wind!

  • Passage to NZ, Day 5

    Just as we’d expected, last night the wind died completely. We’ve been motoring for over 24 hours now at about 5.5 knots which is helping us maintain a good pace for the time being. Motor sailing, if need be, on this particular trip is not at all uncommon. People who cruise for an entire season and live by the rule that they will do 3 knots for an entire day before they’d burn up any fuel…well, they often change their attitude about that when they set out to tackle this particular trip south. The last thing anyone wants to do is try to save a buck and then pay for it at a much greater cost later with a sudden weather change and they find themselves getting their butts handed to them in what can be some of the most unfriendly seas around. The common attitude amongst the harbor prior to departure was pretty much one in the same in that the jerry jugs on deck were there for more reasons than to just add a splash of color to the deck line. If speeds dropped below a certain knot the engines were coming on. I think I heard one boat, and one boat only, say that they weren’t taking on all the fuel that they could hold but just 30 gallons or so. They said they were in no rush and would just ride out the weather. Yeah…best of luck to ya, bud. I’ve always been so thankful that Drew is not the kind of sailor who takes that attitude.

    We keep talking about this passage and it’s potential for brutality, meanwhile, we spent the good part of the rest of the day just lounging in the cockpit. I’m trying to preserve my tan as much as possible cause you see, my dad and I, for many years now, have had an ongoing battle as to who has the better color. For seven months I’ve had the thought lingering over my head that if I manage to go back to the States after living on a boat for all this time and he’s got a better tan than me, well…I’ll never hear the end of it. I often argue that mine is more evenly spread while his is just muddled but that doesn’t work. He’s a lawyer and often says I should have become one myself as the battle can get pretty “intense.” I don’t think I’ve called him one time the entire trip where he hasn’t mentioned it. Outsiders would probably think we are nuts but it’s one of those father/daughter things that just became a running joke and has stuck. Something to call our own.

    Drew and I pretty much have a set routine going that he takes the 8 to 11 shift and then we rotate every three hours through the night. It allows for me to wake him up just in time to jump on the morning net and get everyone’s where-a-bouts. This morning, about 5 a.m. and prior to waking him, I must have looked like I was watching a tennis match, my head going from left to right, port to starboard, as I had a completely full moon and darkness on one side and the sun rising on the other. It was beyond beautiful and moments like that make me wonder what in the world I did to deserve this…

    He informed me that a day or so after leaving Tonga, we crossed the Tropic of Capricorn which means we left “the tropics” and are now in the “subtropics.” At some point tomorrow we’ll cross the 30 degree south latitude which puts us almost as far south as our families back home. Sadly, no more coconuts and palm trees (tear). I’ll gladly trade those if the remainder of the trip will just go as steady as the first five days. 6 night watches left but hey, who’s counting?

  • Passage to NZ, Day 4

    Drew, nor myself, find it the least bit odd if in the first two or three days at sea we barely speak ten words to each other in a single 24 hour time frame. Usually the ten words we will speak are, “hey, wake up.” “damn!? already??” “yep, time for night watch.” Should a fly be on the wall in the boat it might think we were t-total ticked off at one another. Not the case at all. The first few days at sea are often spent just turning yourself over to the boat, allowing your body to tune into the motions, trying to get used to not wanting to fight it, and just learning to let yourself settle in. So far this trip it’s been pretty easy to do just that. I dare to even share that the lovey, dovey talk that ones male counterpart only thinks of speaking when he is in fact THIS far in the middle of nowhere to assure none of his buddies can hear him…well, that might have even been heard a time or two. We’ve talked more on this passage in the first four days then all of the first few days of our previous passages combined. It’s been quite nice.

    The only problems I’m having so far are trying to fight off two massive fever blisters and the want to sleep all the time. I woke up this morning with a sore throat and head ache to go along with my two unwelcome friends. The dip in temperature is probably starting to get to me a little bit so layers are necessities for the cockpit. Right now, at 4:30 p.m. UTC on Wednesday (11:30 p.m. Tuesday on the East coast back home) it’s about 67 degrees out but you add the chill coming off the water, the sun setting, and its starting to get pretty nippy out at night. Plus, we’re cruisers and if it drops below 70 we’re pulling out parkas. The pilot berth has become my new favorite place on the boat for this trip. I can crawl right in there, curl up under a blanket, and listen to the miles pass by the hull just next to me as the sounds of the water lure me to sleep.

    Weather wise the winds seem to be kicking back in earlier than they were supposed to and we had random Northeasterlies that were nowhere in the forecast. They gave a really nice downwind sail this morning and for the most part we’ve been sailing since about 7 o’clock last night. We’ve only had to turn the engine on once for about an hour. A bit of rain today but nothing that called for foul weather gear or anything and the skies have cleared back up as we approach another evening. For the first time ever we caught site of an Albatross earlier today that flew by to inspect the boat. Despite its rather large wingspan, Drew thinks it was on the small side for how large they are known to get in size. Best part of the trip thus far is having had the company of the moon the entire time which makes being able to see at night so much better. I’m knee deep in the first season of Lost on the iPod while Drew’s using seasons of Prison Break to get him through. 6 night watches down (that’s two a night), hopefully only 12 more to go!