Here we are -- small boat, big ocean, 3 tired people, making the best of some very bumpy seas! Day after day after day, or so it seemed, for 20 days (oh, and 20 nights).
We left Cabo San Lucas on May 25th and arrived at Lahaina Harbor early on the morning of June 14th. It has now been a week since we walked on land and we are finally ready to look back at the passage with a little more perspective and perhaps conjure more descriptive adjectives than "Ughghg!"
In fact some of the photos we took provide indisputable evidence of some beautiful outlooks and even some smiling faces. But then again, we only brought the camera out when we could manage to let go of our white-knuckled handholds without falling down.
All in all, it was a fast passage of a very long distance with some moments, hours, and even days of beauty. Never truly scary, just dang uncomfortable and relentless. Already, hindsight is blessing us with selective memory.
For those die-hard fans among our readers, I am going to just go ahead and paste in the daily log that I kept underway. Within are the daily life details, more than you'd want, but also some of the thoughts and moods as they evolved with the miles. It's not quite "real time" but may give you the flavor of being there with us.
As I post this, we have said "Good-bye" to Marcus and "Welcome Aboard" to Louise. Lanham's sister is joining us for the last leg -- we used to think she was sane! We are enjoying a last few days in Lahaina, appreciating the generosity of friends Christine and Dan for offering their home for laundry, prep cooking, and relaxation. We did a dive with Marcus and Louise is off on a dive boat for the morning. We plan to head northeast through the islands on Monday, the 24th. Perhaps push off from Hanalei Bay, on Kuai on Friday, the 28th. If there was another creative way to get Solar Wind home to Elliott Bay we would probably be pursuing it, but we think we have one more long passage in us and it will be sweet to be home. The next post will probably be from Sequim Bay on the Olympic Peninsula, where we hope to meet family and friends around the 24th of July. We expect nothing and are prepared for anything! Thanks for following along and all your good wishes and support!
Running Commentary The Mexico to Hawaii Journey
DAY 1 Saturday,
May 25 – Fueled up, 8am departure from the San Jose del Cabo Marina. By mid
afternoon we had rounded the cape at Cabo and by early evening we were saying
goodbye to our sight of land. At the 4pm watch change we noted a 360 degree
water view. 2-3 foot swells. We motored the first 4 hours, with 8-10 knot winds
from the NNW. Starboard tack, close-hauled and lots of bumping in the confused
seas that we hope are the influence of land. Not as many sport fishers as we
expected, no small to medium dorado on our line as hoped. Watched first setting
of the big orange ball to the west. Voices of Mexican pangueros gave way to
voices of Pilipino and Taiwanese freighter crew.
We are remembering what it was like
on the ride from Seattle to San Francisco and relearning to walk with knees
bent, hand on grab-rails, ready to brace against anything firm with your back,
knees, shoulders and head. And
remembering how to live where nothing stays where you set it. Must be similar
to learning to perform everyday functions in space without gravity. We are
better prepared with our systems this time and have eliminated some of the
crashes and strange chafing noises. This is NOT the easy sail advertised, YET.
We know why everyone wishes you “following seas” We are looking forward to
them.
We stuck to our 8 – 12, 12 – 4, 4 –
8 watch schedule. Single reef and small jib for the night.
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Marcus cooked our first dinner off-shore -- pan fried steak and potatoes.
Note the decorative peppers and the (momentarily) clean, calm galley |
DAY 2 Sunday, May 26 – From Sat 8am to Sun 8am we had a 120
nm day. Not bad. Today we are still in big swells and (our least favorite)
CONFUSED SEAS! Wind has stayed consistent at 10 – 25 kts, but mix-master seas
with 8 – 10 ft swells are enough to make you loose your cookies. Which poor
Marcus did and has been fighting all day. He thinks what finally caused him to
succumb to Mal de Mer was the smell of gutting fish! The guys caught a 4-5
pound yellow fin tuna and had a larger something on line. After 20 minutes the
line broke at the swivel and took one of the new promising lures. BOO!
Marcus stopped eating and worked on keeping water down,
trying to sleep it off. Ugh.
Lanham and Melinda kept the watches
going. We now have the staysail up and the main double reefed – conservative. I
had to wake Lanham twice in the night. Once to help me furl some jib, and again
when we had a big freighter about 2.5 miles off and I wanted to be sure we were
not on a collision course. We were able to get a more westerly heading, but had
to slow the boat down to do that through the night. The full moon is beautiful
and really helps visibility. It was partially cloud-obscured as were most of
the stars. We are wearing full foulies at night – the cockpit gets wet from dew
and some spray. It’s comfortable to be bundled, and then a pain to come inside
where you are immediately overheated. I’m trying to stay hydrated but regret it
every time I have to take off all the layers to pee. We seared some of the tuna
in hot sesame oil with ginger and had it with garlic pasta. Marcus thought
about trying some noodles but stuck with water for the night.
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| Marcus stuffed in the quarter berth |
 |
Our little island
DAY 3 Monday, May 27– We made 124 nm in our 2nd
24-hour day. Marcus still resting and recovering and now trying a scopolamine
patch. It was a pretty tiring day. We are sleeping in about 3 hour segments,
and sometimes sleep just doesn’t come, given the rocking and rolling. Marcus
has made the quarter berth his space and says it is comfortable. Lanham and I
take turns in the pipe berth, and I have also had some luck sleeping up against
the port wall in the forepeak. It is nice that we are on one tack, and one tack
only. It rolls you to the outside of the hull and keeps you there. The key is
to get tired enough that all you can do is sleep. Being awake, moving inside
and out is a lot of exercise! This afternoon when I came off my watch I made a
loaf of beer bread. Good vehicle for butter and real comfort food. I made a pot
of chicken soup – something easy on the stomach. The dried soup mixes are a
good base, with rice, pre-cooked meat, and some extra veggies. Still eating
fresh veggies, but very disappointed in those that I vacuum packed. They did
not like it. Must have off-gassed, broke the seal and went fast. The vacuum
packer worked great for the frozen meats and for grains. I saved the poblano
peppers and tomatoes from going overboard by roasting them. Now we’ll have a
few more days to eat them.
Keeping it all together -- and loosing it again!
|
I was laughing (and swearing and ok, maybe tantruming, too)
about what is involved in cooking on the boat – it’s an athletic activity. Food
is stored in 4 different main compartments on the boat. Within each compartment
are bins, and bins behind the bins. I had made lists for each compartment and
each bin, but they were outdated after the last minute shopping and we try to
update as we use things, but that’s proving to be unreliable. Reaching what you
want could involve any number of yoga poses or strength building moves that you
might do at a gym for health and fitness. On your knees, on your tiptoes, on
your belly, on your head. Getting everything out, but not leaving it out
because it will fall down, spilling something, then cleaning up the spill and
spilling it again. If you are lucky the spill will just be on the counter or
sink, not inside the refrigerator or cabinet. As you hold the bowl (set on your
non-skid pad) at a 40 degree angle, get out the milk (emptying the left frig
top of veggies so the tray can slide to reach the milk on the right side) and
pour it into a measuring cup (switching to holding the bowl with your elbow)
over the sink to catch spillage, put the milk away (veggies are still out but
have rolled away – get them later), crack two eggs over the bowl, set aside the
shells to go overboard later and stir with the spatula after you retrieve it
(and wash it) from behind the gimbaled stove where it just slid, and the person
on watch would like a glass of water and the non-skid pad that was holding
everything just skid. Advice: Plan on one-course meals (one pan, even better)
and keep your sense of humor. If spilled milk is our biggest problem – Hooray!
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| M & L navigating, sailmailing and talking on the radio |
Tonight
we were able to make good communication with the “Motley Cruisers’ Net”. This
is what we call our informal non-ham net of folks who rallied in La Paz and
enjoyed cruising together and staying in touch while in the sea these last few
months. Everyone (who’s awake and not out to dinner) tries the same frequency
on the Single Side Band radio at 9 am and 7 pm. We had not made contact with
any of the group for a few days and all were anxious to hear that we were well
and to offer their sound opinions on weather and routing. There is lots of
experience within the group and it is so nice to have familiar voices and other
eyes looking at our position on a chart and coordinating it with the same
weather files we are looking at.. They confirmed the idea of taking a more
southerly heading now, gaining more of a reach rather than beating, even though
Hawaii is WNW. All believe that we will make faster progress to the west and
will hit NW trade winds in about 2 days, (longitude 125 or 130) making it more
comfortable, easier on the boat and overall faster to make this small
adjustment off the rumb line. We tried this over night and were pleased to be
making easier and faster miles. Our third day’s total mileage was a whopping
144 nm!
DAY 4 – Tuesday, May 28 – The days are marching along and adding
up. Marcus is recovered today. Lanham took a long watch last night and I took a
long sleep – what a nice new outlook. I slept (or stayed in the bunk) from 10
pm to 6 am. Lanham woke me with a cup of coffee ready and it was nice to watch
the day open. Overcast this morning, and broken clouds most of the day. Some
sea birds, dolphins playing on the bow. The ocean is a place of swimming birds
and flying fish. The sea birds that we have seen are swooping low and into the
water, fishing at great speed. Last night, just as the sun was setting and our
fishing lines were pulled in, Lanham and I watched in amazement as 4 and 5 foot
tunas were jumping completely out of the water across the stretch of ocean that
we could see off the port side of the boat. Dolphins were dipping up and down
among them. We don’t know if the dolphins were hunting the tuna or if both were
going after some smaller flying fish. Quite amazing to watch the action.
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| Some of our rare visitors |
Since the fish (big ones we guess)
have taken several of our new and handsome lures, Lanham and Marcus have taken
to making their own. Lanham was trolling his creation, built of a small spent
flare tube (he shot it off on his watch with no attention from crew or would-be
rescuers – we have been carrying expired ones along with our new fresh dated
rescue flares) Duct tape, a shiny granola bar wrapper, and a wire leader with
hook completed his rig.
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| One of our bigger keepers -- we kept 3 and eventually released about 15 Dorado |
He actually got a bite – we think from the coloring,
maybe a juvenile Dorado, but too small to keep. Kids will eat anything! Marcus
fashioned a lure from his toothbrush, and it too caught him a dorado.
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| The homemade granola bar lure |
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| The yet to be patented "toothbrush lure" |
We are now racing along at 7 to 8
knots, only taking occasional slams with the bow and are heading up a little
closer to our 270 deg. “magic line” to Hawaii. Time to go do lunch dishes,
think about dinner plans, and take a nap. I’m on again from 6 -10.
Dinner turned out to be a big bowl
of guacamole with chips (the last of our avocados) and the last of the tuna
with rice, soy sauce and wasabi. It was a fix your own plate when you’re ready
to eat meal. A lovely watch, and another humanizing nighttime of sleep!
DAY 5 – Wednesday, May 29 – The
sailing is getting more comfortable. We are less heeled and the rhythm of the
bounce is more consistent. I can feel my abs working to keep me upright as I sit
here at the salon table with the computer strapped down. Standing in the cockpit, you are in a
constant balance pose, working your calf and thigh muscles. Marcus described
the difficulty that we all experience trying to pull our pants back up after using
the head. He said he thought at one point he was going to have to lay down on
the floor to do it! The sensation of motion and the sound of rushing water is
unceasing! We have enjoyed some hours of music through the cockpit speakers. I
guess it’s been a little too bumpy for guitar practice.
Today
was a grey and misty day – very NW feeling. We motored from 3 am to 7 am, in
order to make water and top up the batteries. It turned out to be a good time
to add a little to the fluky speed, and we now have a tank of warm water that
will last a day or two. It is better for the watermaker to run with the high
voltage provided by the alternator, so running the motor for a few hours every
3 days or so will probably be our habit.
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| Hanging it out -- is that a storm cloud in the distance? |
Today turned out
to be our first laundry day at sea. Lanham tried all morning to fall asleep.
(He had woken to a wet pipe berth this morning. Not sure where the water is
leaking in. Probably the hatch or air vent) He is drying, airing and duct
taping the suspected area. No real luck with sleeping, so he kept his spirits
and energy up by taking a shower and doing laundry, once the sun finally hit
the cockpit about 2pm. We all helped hang the clothes to dry, with a line
suspended from the forestay to the back stay on the sunny side of the boat.
Just as we got everything up (no small feat, clipping in to the jack lines with
harnesses just to go up and set the clothespins) we watched as a big black
cloud headed our way. “That’s rain! …we need to get the clothes in and reef the
main.” We did, and 5 minutes later we watched the black squall pass well to the
north of us and the sun poke through. We congratulated ourselves on the great
teamwork and practice run, got the laundry back up, and took it down still damp
before the next squall with rain an hour later. Dry enough for now – we’ll put it out again tomorrow.
DAY 6 –
Thursday, May 30 – Melinda's Birthday Day!
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| Dining al Fresco -- in the middle of the Pacific for my 56th birthday |
And a glorious one, thanks to my captain
and crew! I took the 2 am to 6 am watch, picking up from Marcus so Lanham got
the 8 hour night sleep. At 2 am, Marcus was struggling with a crazy fluky wind
and the flappin wackies. Together we tried tacking, thought about motoring and
just then the wind returned and we got back on a 270 degree reach and I had an
easy watch with forgiving swells and a good heading. I don’t know what others
do on watch, or what I will do down the road on day 17. Lanham has remarked
that he likes the privacy of the boat bubble inside the total darkness. Marcus
says he feels like he’s having a meeting with himself and often thinks thoughts
he wants to write down.
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| Marcus drives from his "favorite spot" |
This morning, the radar was continually clear, Sully
was doing the steering, the boat was sailing herself, and I felt like when I
made minor adjustments I “knew what I was doing.” A good feeling that left me
time for singing (only the wind can hear you), practicing my Spanish (counting
by multiples), and doing yoga stretches and a leg workout. Great way to start a
new year!
The boys gave me
a card saying I had the “day off.” I read a John Grisham novel in my bunk,
received my many sailmail birthday cards and wrote a few emails. They did their
best to catch fresh dinner, but had no luck and instead cooked a delicious meal
of chorizo, pasta, veggies and Birthday Cake! We opened a special bottle of
red. Very impressive work in the galley. The last treat of the day is movie
night – we only have a couple choices onboard, but they all come with buttered
popcorn. We are hoping for a calm night.
 |
Lanham cooking Melinda's birthday dinner --
notice the heeling birthday cake? |
It was a typically racing through the
20-knot winds night, and we ended up watching part of Harry Potter. Marcus
thought the surround-sound, smell of popcorn and whirling visuals of the moving
was giving him a headache and headed to his berth. Lanham saw some of the movie
from the cockpit while maintaining watch, and I enjoyed the movie and popcorn
immensely! I took the 10 – 2 watch after having had the whole day off and
passed off to Marcus for the 2 – 6. Lanham began to catch up by having the dark
8 hours of 10 – 6 for sleeping.
DAY 7 – Friday, May 31st
– Well, the low point of
today was my dumping of a dozen raw eggs behind the galley stove. They broke
and quickly oozed through the floor seams into the lower cupboard and two
different bilge compartments. The good news was that I had just tested each one
for freshness and none were rotting! I bought six 18-count cartons of eggs for
the trip, so the other good news is that we are not yet short on eggs. I was
preparing to cook a noon breakfast of chorizo burritos. The eggs were washed
and tested (by making sure they sink in a glass of water). The bowl of eggs
looked stable and we bounced along… until WHAM!... the boat lurched and the
eggs flew, all landing in a very inaccessible recess behind the gimbled stove.
I swore and stomped and moaned. Lanham came to the rescue and cleaned the
obvious shells and goop, then went after the less visible, but equally likely
to smell bilges with warm water and a vinegar rinse. Vinegar is a valuable
cleaning agent on the boat. We carry at least a gallon, for cleaning bilges and
heads. Always learning… can’t be too casual with eggs in a bowl.
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| Getting fit through fishing? |
And
the high point in the day came as I was fixing split pea soup for dinner. One
of the fishing lines (we’d had 5 hooks out all day) went ZINGGG! Marcus reeled
in his first ever Dorado! A beautiful fish – yellow as if approaches the boat,
white as it is pulled aboard, and then turning brilliant blue with yellow,
silver, white and dark blue speckles as it is filleted. Makes you wonder why it
has such a metamorphosis as it dies, and what changes do we go through upon our
death. A few minutes later, Lanham brought aboard another Dorado, slightly
smaller. We have for mahi fillets in the frig for cooking tomorrow.
We
are still roaring along, watching the longitude numbers grow. It is now a big
and important ritual to calculate our daily mileage, average speed, overall
distance, and distance to go. I am marking a chart with our daily course. We
have ranged between 120 and 153 miles for 8 am to 8 am days. Rarely slowing
below 5 kts per hr, often rolling along at 7. We are reducing sail at night, to
keep the speed closer to 5, just in case we get a sudden rough patch, high wind
or squall. Reducing speed also makes it a little less bumpy for those trying to
sleep.
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| The evening light show |
DAY 8 – Saturday, June 1st
-- Wow, June 1st,
out for a full week. Marcus got the longer stretch of night sleep last night.
The night watches were uneventful. The moon is waning and there is quite a
cloud cover, so only occasional star studded bits of sky.
The vastness of
the ocean and the absence of anyone or anything continue to amaze and impress us all. No other
ships, no blips on the radar. We are now over 1,000 miles from the coast of
Mexico and about 1,700 miles from the Hawaiian Islands. Nothing else as far as
we can see or imagine except water and sky. The never ceasing roll of the
energy of the ocean is mind-boggling. The enormity of the ocean and of the
undertaking to cross it has set in. Or, as Lanham says, we are all now acutely
aware that this trip is long… a bit too long … and that’s part of it. We are
more than a third of the way there, and we now imagine that we will make it.
Not that we know what lies ahead, but more of the same will be part of it.
Lanham also
expressed his appreciation of the distinct difference between day and night.
Since our direction, speed, angle of heel, and scenery do not change, the
passing of day to night and back again constitutes a real and crucial pattern,
sense of time, and variety. Also, day is our social time – we often hang out in
the cockpit together, not really sure who is officially “on watch.” At night,
it becomes a very solitary endeavor to be on watch and a time of privacy and
introspection – not to mention, a heightened sense of responsibility. You are
the one to make sure all is going well, no menace is lurking, and your
shipmates can rest with assurance.
Early
this morning we ran the motor and motored sailed from 2 to 7 am. Water (warm
water!) was made, the batteries were topped up, and we kept our 7-knot pace in
some lighter wind. Lanham went to bed at 4, Melinda and Marcus had turns taking
warm water transom showers at 8 and when Lanham was up we ate soup for
breakfast and caught another good-sized Dorado about noon. Relations with time
are interesting. We are often looking at our watches – when am I on? How long can
I sleep? Is it time for a meal? But then again, our time has no relation to
time elsewhere on Earth – but has real connection with nature’s clock.
Yesterday, we noticed that the sun was not setting until after our clocks said
9 o’clock, and daylight was breaking later and later. We decided to set our
watches back an hour, to Pacific Time, matching the longitude that we had
recently crossed into. By the time we reach Hawaii, we will be in a time zone
three hours earlier and will probably need to follow suit with the sun.
Switching our watches makes it trickier to remember to tune into the net and
try to contact our sailing buddies. We now need to turn on the SSB at 8 am and
6 pm. Most of the cruisers’ net times are listed by UTC (Universal Time) also
known as Zulu or Greenwich Mean Time. Right now that is 6 hours earlier than
our clocks. All of the weather reports we receive are given with UTC and need
to be translated to our clock. I guess that 6-hour differential will increase
if we reset our clocks closer to Hawaii.
Tonight
we are feasting on some of our fresh mahi mahi. I have started ceviche, Marcus
is making mango salsa, and Lanham will pan fry some fillets. I am wondering how
we will come out on our devouring of the meats in the freezer. We are not allowed
to take them into Hawaii (nor eggs or produce), so we may be feeding the fish
before this trip is over, as they have fed us!
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| Mahi dinner, our only meal inside, right before my food hit the floor |
DAY 9 – Sunday, June 2nd -- Last
night’s dinner tasted good, but it was a bit of a fiasco with food sliding all
over the galley – and then difficulty trying to all sit at the table and eat. I
jumped up at one point to catch something about the slide in the galley. The
boat took another giant lurch and when I looked back at the table Lanham was
holding onto my plate, but all of my dinner had slid to the floor! Rice, fish
and veggies all over the floor! Cry? Swear? Laugh? I was tempted to just eat
off the floor, but was able to recover the food and finished at the table. You
don’t linger over food underway, and it’s best to have your beverage before or
after the food course.
The fresh mango
salsa was a real treat and was Marcus’s creation. The day before leaving San
Jose del Cabo, we noticed mango trees along the marina drive, loaded with
mostly green, but quickly ripening, mangos. Several cows were wandering
underneath, eating their fill of those on the ground, and in the evening a
local father and his 8-year-old son were our gathering the ripest ones from the
top branches with a long pole and hook. Marcus was determined to bring a bundle
and climbed into the treetops, tossing down large green mangos. We introduced
ourselves to Manuel and his kid, Alfonso, and they gladly helped us get more
with their pole. We headed back to the boat with two bulging hatfuls of mangos
and Manuel and Alfonso came aboard to see the boat and talk fishing over a
cerveza and jugo. The mangos rode in the lazarette for the first week of the
trip. About half had to go overboard and the other half were peeled and pared
by Lanham and Marcus in the cockpit – added to onion, hot red peppers, vinegar
– yum!
It was an
uneventful sailing day and night – uneventful is good.
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| Lanham processing the bucket of mangos brought from Cabo |
DAY 10 – Monday, June 3rd
– Today was more of the same sailing – rough confused seas, uggh, are getting
old, and tiresome! Sometimes it dawns on me that we are still moving, moving
fast, moving constantly and there is no propulsion machine causing the
sensation – just water rushing past, and us moving constantly forward (with
lots of up and down and back and forth thrown in). When steering at night it is
easy to loose your sense of direction and feel like a spinning top. With no
horizon and in the blackness no real sense of right or left, I stare at the
compass and try to keep us at 270 degrees, due west and start to feel that we
are turning in a circle – always spinning to port with the wind.
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| Day and night, our heading varies little |
Maybe it is
worth mentioning, though anyone who’s done this passage probably won’t be
surprised, that we have been on the same tack for the full 10 days. That is, we
are heading WEST, the wind is coming from the NORTH (sometimes nnw, or nne),
the wind blows over the starboard side, the sails are let out to port, and we
are heeling, rolling, heeling, rolling, heeling, bumping, heeling rolling to
the left. It simplifies things a bit – you know to set stuff (including
yourself when you sleep) on the low side of the boat --- and mostly it stays
the low side… day after day after day. We wonder if we will walk with one leg
longer than the other or our heads cocked 10 degrees if we ever get off the
boat.
Today’s
lowpoint for Lanham and me came about 3 hours after eating ceviche for lunch.
Suddenly got feverish, chilled, nauseated and had the runs – oh ugh! We think
that’s what it was – fish was fresh, but maybe not the cucumber (Bad Cook – no
more on the cusp veggies!!) Marcus was spared the worst – he’s paid his dues
and he’s still not eating with a full appetite, so he went easy on the ceviche!
L and I were able to sleep it off, but it took about 24 hours to feel settled,
and longer than that to feel hungry again.
DAY 11 – Tuesday, June 4th
– Early this morning, when I went off watch at 4, Lanham figured out the
staysail was hindering the jib as the wind was starting to come more from the
east, behind us. He woke me to help him bring down the staysail. My job was easy,
to let out the sheets when he asked. Unfortunately I tried to do it in the dark
and was not clear headed. In the process, I let out the main sheet, holding him
up on the deck working longer in the wild bumps and putting us in a potentially
dangerous situation where we could get too much wind in the main and bring down
the mast! Dang… I got too complacent. I need to make sure I am awake, know
exactly what I’m doing, and not make dumb mistakes. All was OK and I went back
to bed once he got things recovered.
I
had a lazy day, mostly sleeping, lying around inside – still feeling the
effects of the bad food. I gave myself permission not to do much… some days are
like that. The funny thing is that there is not a big difference in appearance
or effect between the energetic days and the low energy days on this trip. Only
a difference in internal motivation and intention. I did get the energy to go
through the fridge – throwing out anything questionable and disinfecting
surfaces. I cooked a big pot of ground beef pasta sauce and we had a late lunch
with leftovers in the night. It tasted good – real food.
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Typical of our grey days -- but fun to get a downwind
spinnaker run! |
While
I lazed around, the boys got into the autopilot area to do an inspection and
lube that has been on Lanham’s mind as part of a halfway maintenance. Marcus earned
his stripes again as he wiggled into the uncomfortably tiny space and did the
tightening and greasing. It was a good call – things were loose! We then got
the spinnaker up and we had a nice, smooth downwind run from about 3 to 7. The
sun came out and we got some white puffy clouds – first light sky in days.
Lanham went to sleep and it was up to me to get the spinnaker down. I woke
Marcus from a sound sleep to help. I thought it would be easy on the foredeck,
but the wind was still up and it was harder to get the sock down than I
expected. Just a reminder of the forces we are dealing with – much bigger than
I am used to. Marcus gave a hand and we got things put away and set for night.
I woke Lanham and we reefed some more before I went to bed at 10. The 10-6 rest
shift is mine again – lucky me. A 139 mile day.
DAY 12 -- Wednesday, June 5 – We
are still counting the miles gone and miles to go – with more interest than
ever. Does that mean we are anxious to arrive – yes. We have done 158 miles in
our longest day, and over 120 everyday. We are counting on maybe 8 more days,
if we hit about 130 a day and that would put us into Lahaina on Friday morning,
the 14th. Don’t want to arrive on a weekend… so we may slow down as
we get closer.
A grey day
again. Lanham stayed up past his shift and ran the motor in light air for a
couple hours – hot water! I went on watch at 8, and L got up at 10 and cooked
the last of the dorado fillets – on the griddle – they tasted wonderful. Marcus
has little appetite – thinks it may be more seasickness, so will keep on with
the scopolamine patches. We are all a little low on motivation and we are
reminding ourselves that whatever we are feeling is O.K. Part of coping.
I used the solar
shower, L played some guitar, I made polenta and read a bit. So went the
afternoon … and on we sailed… rolling in mixed seas more than we would like,
but making good time!
The wind is now
on our tail (official trade winds, we think?) Today we traveled west from the
136th longitude to the 138th line. The challenge is to
maintain as close to a 270 west heading as possible, but to keep the NNE wind
in the sails we need to head a little higher than due west. Thus, over the last
few days our track has been taking on a northerly direction off the rumb line to
Hawaii. I am learning a lot, with coaching, about balancing the wind, with the
swell direction, with our desired heading. Being on watch, when sailing, as
opposed to motoring, means watching the radar (set to scan every 20 minutes),
visually scanning the horizon, AND either hand steering or adjusting Sully
every minute or two, as the wind on the masthead swings a little high or low.
Keeps you busy and awake. This was a 145 mile day, keeping our average up!
DAY 13 –Thursday, June 6 – I woke
early this morning to a different bend. We had jybed! For the first time in 11
days we were on a port tack, heeling to the other side. Lanham and Marcus did
the maneuver about 2 in the morning, wanting to keep us from heading any
further north off the direct line to Hawaii. They said is took an hour to jybe
– a little out of practice. There were no serious crashes in the boat, so we
must be pretty well stowed away on a daily basis. Good sign!
Lanham
and I set the spinnaker and ran it alone for the morning hours. By noon the
wind died down and we ran the motor for the rest of the day and evening – full
water tanks, warm showers, and topped up batteries. This motor sailing took us
back to the rumb line for Hawaii and we again got on the preferred starboard
tack. Lanham rebuilt the spare water pump at his workbench this morning.
 |
| A mid-ocean break! |
At
3 this afternoon, we slowed the boat and Marcus and Lanham took a swim! I
stayed with the boat. They raved about the blueness of the water and because of
the visibility and the lack of a bottom to reference they described it as
swimming in outer space. I will try it before the end of the trip! I cooked
beef fajitas and they tasted good to everyone! A relatively slow 130 mi day,
with winds not more that 7 – 12. Fighting for every southwesterly mile.
DAY 14 – Friday, June 7 –
A day
for following seas and more of the same – big swells swinging us all around.
Working hard to stay on course, jybing several times to get back closer to
course, and trying lots of different sail/rigging combinations! Lanham was low
on sleep today, but stayed up and he and Marcus got some good things going to
make the most of the wind. Spinnaker up (not an easy set – quite the challenge)
and main out on a pole for wing and wing. Marcus is like a monkey on deck –
quick, agile, and perceptive. I’m sure Lanham appreciates the teamwork and not
always having to give precise instructions.
I
cooked a pasta with salmon lunch, wrote some sailmail, and napped… and when
Lanham finally headed to bed about 4:30, we all decided it was a good day to
set the clocks back two hours to get more in-line with the sun and with
Hawaiian time. Suddenly we had a 26 hour day, two more hours of daylight watch
time! How strange the human invention of time – or at least our preoccupation
with time? It certainly becomes less connected to anything arbitrary (such as
sleeping, eating, getting somewhere) and much more connected to nature out
here. Lanham slept, Marcus sailed, I cooked – quinoa with chicken and roasted
cabbage for dinner. We watched a more colorful and dramatic sunset than most.
To the north the sky was dark grey-purple with stormy rainy clouds. To the
south the puffy white clouds were pink and orange with setting sun reflection.
Ahead and behind us, west and east were the transition skies. Clouds of many
colors and forms. The sky took about an hour to darken – at a respectable 8 pm
on our clocks rather than the 10 it has been growing to.
The
8 to 12 watch felt long and tiring… feeling like the 2 am it was. I drank
caffeinated tea, trying to avoid being up later with coffee. We all enjoyed the
mid-night treat of warm from the oven peanutbutter cookies, a package mix made
better with the addition of real salted peanuts! Lanham relieved me a little
early, we said goodnight and I was out fast and slept hard in my forepeak nest.
Didn’t wake until 7, when the morning sunlight was coming through the forward
hatch and I looked up to see full billowing sails. Will I miss that view?
Probably, but not the lurching motion that comes with it. We clocked in at a
140 nm day at 5 am, our new 24-hour mark.
DAY 15 – Saturday, June 8 –
Today, has been glorious weather. Fast wind (perfect 15 -20) from 5 am to 2 pm
and in a NNE enough direction that we can keep a heading of less than 270 and
not get the wind knocked out by the swells, too much. It’s still bumpy as ever,
and noisy as the boat creaks and the rigging clanks and the wind thwaps the
sails. Arggh… this is LONG… We are all feeling it, yet keeping focused on the
positive and keeping busy is key.
Marcus
seems determined to catch a fish, soon. He wants a yellow fin or yellow tail
tuna to be precise – hankering for sushi. I think if he caught a dorado he
might throw it back and I wouldn’t talk him out of it. The mahi did not set
real well with any of us – we don’t know why. It just tasted heavy and strong,
not like mahi we’ve had before. These were small, young? fish, maybe they all
taste more wild out this far??
Lanham
got up about 10, for showering and laundry. Good day to dry it in the sun and
breeze. We’ve had a fast morning, making 30 miles directly on course in the
first 4 hours. Now we are lurching and lunging along again. So much for the
possibility of a record day. Leftovers for lunch. I’m thinking about pizza for
dinner.
We
have under 700 miles to go according to the Garmin GPS. We are continuing to
try to reach friends on the cruisers’ net but without luck. Propagation for
sending sailmail has been very poor, slow transmission times, too. But we have
had luck getting weather faxes. Good to know that system is working. Looks like
more of the same weather wise, and some mild conditions once we hit Hawaii.
We’ll have to see what the reality is.
Our
pizza for dinner was a hit! We’ll make it again…and it was THE MOST gorgeous
sunset on the passage so far. The whole sky was reflecting different effects
with the colors playing off the clouds. We’ve seen many sunsets during this
year, but it’s the first ever with an uninterrupted seascape – 360 degree
horizon for the sun to play on. We had the stereo on and enjoyed a glass of
wine on the foredeck before dinner, Snickers bars for dessert.
 |
| A moment of sun, tranquility and the vastness of watersky |
Even
though we had a super fast first half of the day, we slowed down at night. At
156 nm we didn’t quite beat our distance record of 158, but a big day
nonetheless!
DAY 16 – Sunday, June 9 – Another
uneventful day… and into the night. Always good. We are definitely in the
rhythm of our watches now. I spend my off time mostly cooking, which I am
enjoying again. The seas are a bit less bumpy, with a following swell. We had a
squid on the deck this morning. The fishing lines were out all day, AND we
caught 5! medium sized dorado – all of which we released and they happily swam
on. After our 3 dorado, we are not in the mood to cook more. Marcus is set on
making tuna sushi – sure hope he can – I’d love to see his techniques!
We
are continuing to try to make radio contact with our cruising buddies, but with
no luck. I sent out a group email yesterday, so we got several responses of
encouragement and congrats on our progress. Also, last night I butted in on a
Ham radio net (got scolded, but not chastised) in order to connect with folks
on a boat named Sarah Jean. They are friends of friends and are en route to
Hawaii from New Zealand. (wow, try 4,000+ instead of our 2,700 miles). From
there they will sail to Vancouver, so we hope to be able to be in touch with
them on our next leg. We exchanged sailmail addresses and have already had a
response from them. We also emailed Christine, our friend on Maui today to let
her know we are likely to arrive ahead of the June 19th the date we
had given her as a possible arrival. It is really getting close now. Our GPS
says 500 miles and about 96 hours. That means we need to start counting the
days and possible slowing down in order to arrive at Lahaina in the daylight.
As
we start to count the days, I’m trying to figure out how to use most of the
meat in the freezer (also a factor in deciding not to bring more mahi on board)
since we cannot take it into Hawaii. We will come out about right on the
produce, except for maybe some extra limes and potatoes. We may have to toss a
dozen eggs or so, but the meat will be the challenge. I’ll make a quiche and a
potato carrot dish. Today’s meals were oatmeal, eggs with ham and polenta for
lunch and beef fajitas for dinner. Nobodies going hungry!
DAY 17 – Monday, June 10 – Today
was a pretty one. We are running downwind all the time now and the seas are
BIG. The 8 – 10 foot swell that follows behind the transom accelerates us down
into the next trough. We cannot keep perpendicular to the swell and we are
trying to quarter them for comfort, but the swell is so big that when we come
down off the top of one the swinging of the mast pushes the wind out of the
sails. We have to choose between a hard, noisy, cracking flacking headsail if
we are steering too low and the potential danger of getting sideways to the
swell causing the boat to roll if we steer too high. So, like life, it’s just a
balancing act. I am beginning to understand how dynamic active sailing is in a
new way. I thought we could find a good point of sail and stay with it. After
all we’re not racing. But being on watch out here is more about watching the
wind, waves (sea state), adjusting the sails and/or heading to make the best
decisions – for course, comfort, and safety.
I
got up from a rolling restless sleep, but felt awake after coffee. I had a
pleasant 8 to noon watch. Marcus had his backpacker guitar out and when Lanham
got up a little later they got to work on some songwriting. It was fun to listen
to their jam session and they are coming up with some good lyrics about their
friend, Eddie. I was even able to read a little on watch as we rolled along on
course – stopping at the bottom of every two pages to scan the horizon and
sails is a good timekeeper for me. When just sitting and thinking, it is easy
to not notice the time slipping by. Hand steering is the other thing that helps
keep my mind on the sailing. Hanging on to the wheel can be very relaxing and
definitely helps with the woozies.
 |
| From my perch at the wheel I can listen to the dueling guitars -- still wooshing along at 7 knots! |
We have seen a
bit more sea life. We think the large brown birds with white underbellies and
huge wingspans are albatross. There are also some smaller white gulls that dive
down to scoop fish off the surface. I am curious about how isolated these birds
seem. They are often alone. What makes them come to this spot on the ocean? Are
they curious about the boat? Do they return to the same spots on shore? How
many miles do they cover in a day? Are they still flying at night like we are?
The best animals
we’ve seen though are the aerobatic flying fish! They remind me of a Dr. Seuss
creation as you look out across the water and see whole schools of the little
guys leaving the sparkling surface of the water, airborne for 3 feet to 30
feet, sometimes crash landing into the face of a wave or sticking the landing
acrobatically in the surf. They look silver grey and turquoise with iridescent
wings like a dragonfly. Most are small – 2 to 3 inches, but some look like
small birds at 4 to 5 inches. We have only seen one small one land on the boat
– a tiny one at under an inch, looking like a very special tropical aquarium
fish – a beautiful specimen.
 |
One of my calmer cooking projects --
cheesy potatoes - comfort food |
At noon
yesterday I served us all some leftovers of pasta and beef and then started an
afternoon of cooking -- baked cheesy potatoes with ham and apple bread pudding.
Wanted to get a couple things in the oven and they tasted good for dinner,
midnight watch snacks, and breakfast. We ran the motor for a few hours to make
more southerly heading (don’t want to come in way off the mark for Maui and
have to navigate close to land). Also got some warm water for showers in the
evening. No more contact with friends on the radio, but nice to get emails. We
continue to fish and continue to catch medium sized dorados that we throw back.
We have released about 15 dorado, and it seems ironic that we are disappointed
each time we catch one. Twice more we have lost lures and line to something
bigger – much bigger – we imagine the 30 pound tuna that got away.
The wind is
coming up, we are expecting more as we near Hawaii, and the sky looks squally.
We got the staysail rigged on deck, ready to use again. We had a double reefed
main and small jib out all night and did experience several light rain showers.
The wind stayed above 20 knots and gusted to 40, even 50, in the morning.
Another 145 nm day, and this evening we have about 350 nm to go. If someone
asked how we were feeling I think the unanimous answer would be “tired of it.”
At this point, I would not sign up to do it again – oh, wait, I already have. I
guess it is easier going into the second leg knowing what to expect and being
confident in the boat and our abilities. Though I will miss not having someone
of Marcus’s strengths and talents. He is a knowledgeable sailor and always
ready to jump up on deck to rig something in the dark windy blackness. That
will need to be me on the next leg of the trip!
DAY 18 – Tuesday, June 11 – We
just set the clocks one more hour back – now we are on Hawaii time! 3 hours
earlier than Pacific time, 4 hours earlier than Mountain time (La Paz and
Chicago) and 5 hours earlier than Eastern time (Boston). Again, it seems weird
to be concerned with clocks, but there is a socialized part of us that does
want to stay connected to our species by conventions such as clocks and emails.
More relevant to our space/time concerns, we crossed the 150-degree line of
longitude today. Lahaina lies at about 156½ degrees west. Math Vitamin: A
minute is a mile (when you travel in style). 60 minutes in a degree. How many
miles in the 6.5 degrees we have to go? And… at 6 nm/hour average, how many
hours? Thus are the things that mostly occupy all of our thoughts right now.
So
far today we have had more (what else) confused seas. I’m beginning to think
they are normal and we are confused. We have had 3 or 4 squalls, with gusts up
to 50 and light showers, we have slept, eaten, and Lanham is now hand washing
the salon rug in the cockpit. We have the leeboard up and the cockpit doors out
for the first time in months! We are running at 5 knots with lots of swell and
keeping the radar on for an early sighting of our first ship, which we think
could be any day now. It’s easy to feel the surge and energy of watching the
mileage to go get smaller and smaller. Just under 300 miles now – still a long
trip. Patience required. Must stay focused.
DAY 19 – Wednesday, June 12 –
Today was a blur – maybe one of my least favorites. UGH, we are all so sick of
the weather and the sea state, but not talking about it much. Nothing to be
done but keep on keeping on. Today added spitting rain to the washing machine
swells and waves buffeting us around. After my morning watch I rested a bit and
knew it was time to keep on keeping on the food usage. Nobody’s really that
hungry – but I notice the granola bars and peanutbutter are getting eaten. We
have more meat that I’ve thawed in hopes of not having to dump it prior to
landing in Hawaii. We are now on a Port tack with only the staysail up. After
being on a Starboard tack for weeks the switch is most troublesome in the galley.
I had places I could set things or tether them in and know they would be likely
to stay up against the outside of the hull. On this tack there are no “safe”
places to prop things, or I haven’t learned where they are, or (most likely) my
nerves are frayed and my tolerance for rolling food preparation is zero. Today
I lost it, almost crying, and (I guess) giving Lanham in the cockpit a menacing
look – as if to say “You’re at the wheel. Why are you doing this?? Can’t you
make this stop!!” Of course, no one can and it was no different from the last
18 days, but I could find no humor and only felt demoralized by the whole
endeavor. I got some food on, we ate, and I went to sleep earlier than usual
with the guys covering my watch. This last stretch may be the hardest. Still on
the alert for ships as we get closer, but now only seeing lots of squalls on
radar. They could make it harder to see real targets. We motored some today,
keeping the batteries topped off and the water tanks full and keeping on our schedule
to make the harbor on early Friday morning. 131.5 mile day, but at least the
Solar Wind is getting some fresh water rinsing. And the rain seems to be
bringing lots more flying fish on deck.
DAY 20 – Thursday, June 13 – Even
though the weather continues to be miserable, and we are SICK of it, we can’t
help but be motivated by how close we are getting to the END. Lanham has marked
the electronic chart with a bull’s eye on the approach point to Lahaina. Each
of the 3 rings represents our anticipated daily distance (about 130 nm). If we
continue the average for we’ve had for Tuesday and Wednesday, then for Thursday
we have a smaller target of 110 nm, which ends just 20 miles from Lahaina
Harbor. All of this figuring is to make sure we arrive after daylight. We read
it is not advisable to try to come into the tiny channel and make the tight
turn using only lighted markers which easily disappear in the city lights
behind them. We are still going a little fast, though we are dragging a warp
with weights on it.
 |
| Impossible to caption the motion and sound of the ocean |
This morning
Lanham and Marcus got energized during a dry spell and tried reducing the
mainsail further (it has been double reefed the last day and a half). We talked
about the infrequency of wanting a third set of reefing points. How often do
you ever want to go slower? We could have put up the Storm Trysail which has
its own track on the mast, but instead they pulled down the main completely.
Later in the afternoon as we still soared along under the staysail alone, we
took down the it as well and the rest of the night we continued to get pushed
along with NO sails – just the windage of the boat, solar panels, and bare
mast. With the swells cresting directly on our transom and the autopilot
keeping the rudder on course, still dragging the heavy warp, we wooshed along
at 4 to 5 knots. More and heavier squalls came and went all night and our
little icon slowly moved due west across the screen.
|
| Another day closes, we are pulling a warp to help steer and slow down a bit in the night. |
I got my cooking
game back on and had a mid-day meat frenzy. We enjoyed a pound of bacon and I
pan-fried the last of the arranchera from La Paz. Threw out a minimal amount of
produce and am left with a little ham, small skirt steak and one package of
chirizo in the freezer. Hopefully we can keep the garlic and ginger root rather
than handing them over to the Dept of Agriculture in Hawaii. I even used up
most of the limes with a no-bake key lime pie. Unfortunately, everyone was
needing sleep more than food, so there was no communal “last supper” but we ate
sometime during our night watches. I took the watch from about 6 to midnight
and both guys slept. Uneventful except for squalls which brought me to the
inside pilot station. Really glad we have that and can avoid the worst of the
weather, but it does reduce visibility and make you feel quite removed from
actually driving the boat.
About 8 in the
evening we were able to “paint” the island of Maui with radar at about 24 miles
away. Then about 11 pm I was outside between rainstorms and could make out the
lights of Kahului off our beam. At least I hoped it was a light on the point,
not a ship to our port, about 12 miles off. We had begun hearing USCG
announcements from Honolulu earlier in the afternoon and about midnight I heard
a ship calling the coast guard. They switched to channel 22 and I went with
them, lurking. It was a tug captain, pulling a barge, asking for permission to
enter Kahului Harbor. He was OK’d to do so. I realized that we were right off
of the harbor. Could there be a tug about to cross in front of us that I had
not seen? Had he maybe already passed in front and was I about to come between
him and his towed barge? Without delay I called the “Rosemary Catherine” tug on
channel 16. He responded, and we switched channels. I told him we were running
without sails or motor and I did not have him on radar or AIS, could I have his
position? He gave me his latitude and longitude and said there was little he
could do to alter course, but they’d watch for us. I calmed down after plotting
their GPS position on the electronic chart and deciding they were well in-shore
of us, probably at the harbor entrance when he had called the coast guard. My
call woke Lanham and Marcus and I said goodnight, “See you in Hawaii!” I was
zonked and went right to sleep.
DAY 21 Friday, June 14 – Awake
about 5, I joined Lanham at the interior helm as he looked out at more windy,
rainy, stormy seas, with waves still going in all directions, some even
breaking over the bow quarter and running down the side decks. “I had quite a
harrowing crossing into the channel,” he quietly revealed. “No time to call you
guys for help.” He described seeing lights on shore, then see the lights move,
but not being able to figure out the ships heading. The rain squalls were
hindering a tracking with radar. Just as Lanham was about to give a radio call,
the tug captain called him, saying “Thanks for responding so quickly” (you bet,
anytime) and “we were getting a little close so I wanted to know your
intention.” Lanham said he was going around the coastline into Lahaina and the
captain said, “OK we’ll pass port to port.” Lanham immediately steered away,
then realized that port to port meant he needed to steer hard the OTHER way.
Still unable to see anything visually or on radar due to the rain and sea
state, he turned 60 degrees away and finally picked up the target. It seemed
there was no barge in tow. Just before turning back on course, the lights on
shore again blinked out as a small dark shape covered and uncovered them. While
the tug had been lit up like a Mack truck, the barge it pulled had only two
little faint lights, at bow and stern. By the time I woke up the obstacle was
passed and we had turned back on course about 10 miles out from the Maui
coastline, and the tug and barge had passed between us and the shore.
 |
| Land HO! Our first daylight view of the islands of Hawaii |
The daylight was
breaking and slowly, as we got around the corner, the ugly rain and some of the
chop subsided. Soon we were going out into the cockpit, with the sun rising in
an orange sky over our right shoulders. The carved mountains of Maui on the
left and Lanai on the right were shrouded in mist and growing greener with
daylight. Wow, look where we are… and still, it’s awfully windy and wet. We
hear its usually great weather in Hawaii. As we continued around the north end
of Maui the air continued to warm, the cockpit started to dry out and sunlight
began to sparkle on the water.
 |
| Maui! |
We tidied up the boat, and ourselves, and soon
were getting out dock lines and fenders that had been stored for the last 3
weeks. Lanham went over the deck removing duct tape from the hatch hinges and
the plastic covering from the windlass. We only had one obvious spot of chafing
– the jib sheet on the lifeline where it met the pelican hook at the port gate
closure. It had been noticed a week ago and put on chafe protection -- another
thing to remove.
 |
| Dock lines are out -- where exactly is the channel? |
About 7:30, we navigated the entrance buoys to the incredibly
narrow channel leading to the incredibly tiny Lahaina harbor boat basin. There
were a dozen or so boats on mooring balls a good distance outside the
breakwater, and inside of the anchorage were breaking waves filled with a
growing number of surfers. Lots of obstacles to avoid coming into this tiny,
busy harbor. We pulled up alongside the harbormaster’s office and stepped on
the dock --- Ahhh, made it.
 |
| Happy and slightly crazed crew with our destination in sight!!!! |
Saturday, June 15th,
2013
 |
Looking from inside Lahaina Harbor to the mooring balls.
Notice the surf line -- something to avoid in the dingy! |
It
has been really nice to be in Lahaina. The harbormaster was ready to be
unfriendly and unhelpful, but we won him over. He had wished we had called him
about checking in (we had talked to someone else when we called his office). He
called the customs agent, who was not coming until WE called him. We had
emailed him and he was receptive to coming to Lahaina from Kahului to check us
in. The harbormaster softened and said we could stay on the “one guest dock”
#99 for one night. Marcus walked the 6 blocks to the Yacht Club, got the gas
card, and got the forms for staying on a mooring buoy. We topped up our fuel –
only used 32 gallons of diesel on the crossing – moved over to slip 99 and had
a fast and good wash down of the boat. Solar Wind will need some stainless
polishing, and our quicky varnishing job will be gone when we hit Seattle, but
all in all, she looks good and is doing great!
When
the customs guy arrived, he “needed” us to move back over to the fuel dock,
instead of his walking around to our slip. So, instead of staying settled we
moved again, had our on-board inspection (a quick once over by a German Shepard
– who had never been on a boat before and wasn’t sure he wanted to come
aboard), paid our fee to enter the USA and were able to move back across the
fairway to our dock. When I listed the food that we had aboard, customs agent
said, “just consume it aboard.” We were pretty sure that the scepter (a 10’
cactus frond from a century plant) that we carried from the Mexican desert
would not be allowed to enter Hawaii, but the deck of the boat was not even
looked at enough for it to be noticed. It was definitely a game – everyone won.
Friday
afternoon was spent watching the seasoned boat drivers come in and out of
Lahaina harbor – it is a tourist hub for every type of aquatic entertainment
the tourists might want to pay for. Ferries to Lanai come and go, charter
catamarans, sport fishing boats, dolphin and whale watching skiffs, and a
semi-submersible submarine pick up and drop off paying customers by the hour –
a great place for people and boat watching! Lanham napped, Marcus used the
internet and Melinda walked to the beach adjacent to the marina to swim, bathe,
lie on the sand (ahh, earth that doesn’t move) and talk to family on the phone.
We walked back to the yacht club, got ice creams, and later had a great sushi
and steak dinner at Kobe Steakhouse. Lahaina was alive (3rd Friday
block party) but we headed home to the dock for a relatively still, quiet,
uninterrupted night of welcome sleeeeeep!
 |
| Beautiful West Maui mountains from the harbor |
Saturday
coffee about 9 (how normal, yet unusual) and we brought the boat out to LYC
mooring buoy #5. It’s a great location off the beach with a full view of the
beautiful mountains of West Maui. Rainbows, dramatic clouds and shadows, a
pleasant breeze, beautiful crystal blue 80-degree water to jump into right out
the door. Nothing more rocky than we are accustomed to. We have put out the
flopper-stoppers, Marcus and Lanham have been snorkeling and went to town in
the dingy.
We are happy to just be here, looking at the beautiful shoreline
with anything we might want just in town, a dingy ride away. What a relief not
to have to do anything right now! Later we will think more about the next leg
of the trip, the longer voyage ahead to Seattle, the next challenge.
She was so well prepared that she
blended in with all the experienced divers on the trip. She rented an
underwater camera to capture some of it.
Monday morning, we took off for the west side of Lanai. We
spent the morning going over safety systems on the boat with Louise. It was
smooth motoring, and we put the sails out to practice raising, rigging, and
reefing. We anchored at Kaumalapau Harbor and though the evening winds blew
hard we had good holding. We all jumped in the water with our snorkel gear and
had a wonderful time swimming above the reef, looking at all the colorful coral
and small fish.
