Land Ho - After 5 Weeks at Sea

09/16/02

The View Approaching Cape Town

    Last night as I started my watch, we had 10 knots of wind, and we had George steering, as the amount of wind was not enough to steer with the wind vane, with the motion of the seas.  We were still over 30 degrees off course.  Well before I ended my watch (2000-2200), the wind had climbed to 25+ and I had to wake everyone up to put two reefs in the main.  Later on the wind died again, and David and I tacked to port tack.  Right before my watch started (0200-0400) Eric woke us up again and we shook the reefs out of the main, as the wind had gone down.  The jib sheets had fouled, and Eric had to climb the ratlines to untangle them.  Once this was done, we were still a bit off course, as I started my watch.  I went to use the head, and when I came out, miraculously the wind had backed, and we were sailing the rhumb line!  By the end of my watch, the wind had backed enough to go on a reach.  As of this morning, we are cruising along at 6.5 knots on the rhumb line with 50 miles to go to Cape Town.  Hopefully we will land before dark. 
   
    This is day number 35 of our passage.  My excitement at the approaching landfall is without bound.

    Later this morning, on David’s watch, the wind began to veer again, sending us northward of the rhumb line.  Right away Eric’s ire was directed towards me, as he stated that I was given explicit instructions to increase the cross track error to the right between 2 and 3 miles.  I guess I misunderstood the orders, and though I worked to keep the course to the right of the rhumb line as best I could, apparently I didn’t try hard enough, and now it’s my fault if we aren’t able to make it to Cape Town today.  Well, another day, another fuck-up on my part.

    At this point we are motoring to try to make the correct course.  We have less than 30 miles to go.  I want to get there as soon as possible, before I fuck something else up.

Seals Hanging Out as We Approach Land

    At 26 miles distance from Cape Town, we began to see the outline of Table Mountain ahead.  We have spotted a few seals in the water, just their shiny black bodies and flippers visible above the water.  We have been seeing a lot more albatrosses, but since we are nearing land they are getting scarcer.

    I phoned Sue on the Iridium today, and her mother answered.  She told me that Sue is in Cape Town already, waiting for me.  That is very exciting news, something that I hoped would happen.  I hope she can stand to get close to me, after not having showered for more than five weeks.  It will be nice to have someone to interact with besides Eric and David.

At The Royal Cape Yacht Club, Looking for the Showers

Reunited, and Ready for First Meal in Five Weeks that Didn't Come From a Can

A Taste of Hell

09/15/02

    After happy hour yesterday we put the third reef in the main, as the wind was approaching 30 knots.  This was to be the start of another hellish night, probably the worst of the trip so far.  We were heeled extremely, even after the reef, and eating dinner was a particularly arduous task.  Later in the evening the wind climbed to 40-45 knots, and one of Victor’s steering lines failed.  It was too rough to do any work with Victor, so we decided to heave to until the worst of the storm blew over.  During this whole time we had all the hatch boards in place, as spray was flying around all over outside.  The boat was rolling and crashing violently.  By the time 0100 rolled around, the wind had thankfully subsided somewhat (20-25 knots) and David and Eric were able to fix Victor.  At the same time the wind direction changed, and they decided to tack and sail on a reach.  This put us on starboard tack, which was good for sleeping (for me, at least).

    As of this morning, Eric and I shook all the reefs out of the main, as the wind has gone down.  We now are flying all available canvas, but not making very good progress, as we are now close-hauled doing 055 on the GPS, 40 degrees off the rhumb line (099).  While we had originally hoped to make it to Cape Town late tonight, at this rate we will be lucky to make it tomorrow night.  We have exceeded 4000 miles on the log for this leg, and this is the 33rd day of the passage.  This is also the longest passage that Eric has ever had on FIONA.  If I die and go to hell, this is what it will be, a never ending passage in this godforsaken boat on these gale-ridden seas.

    I forgot to mention that we have the Benguela current running against us also, which takes away a knot and a half from whatever meager headway we are making, and also pushes us further north, away from our destination.

More Halyard Drama

09/14/02

    The wind moderated and veered yesterday afternoon, and we were actually able to lay a course on the rhumb line.  Last night was a pleasant night, and we shook the reefs out of the main.  When I woke up this morning, however, the wind had freshened back up to 20, and we decided to put two reefs back in.  When furling the jib, the furling line had gotten stuck, and closer inspection showed that the halyard had worked loose and the top of the jib fitting had fallen below the wrap stop, a  fitting at the top of the extrusion (headstay) that prevents the halyard from twisting around the headstay when the jib is furled.  As a result the halyard was twisted.  We tried to untwist it the best we could but we ended up having to send David up the mast to clear it up.  This was a bit more tense than the first time he had gone up, as it had been calm conditions then.  This time it was blowing 20-25 knots and the boat was really rocking.  It went smoothly, and we were able to get the jib back in shape without too much trouble.  When Eric was putting the main halyard back on the sail, he lost his footing and fell, luckily against the ratlines, but in the process let go of the halyard, which was flailing all over the place.  The substantial shackle on the end of the halyard was a projectile, which if we weren’t able to catch it with our hands, threatened to really hurt one of us.  Since David still had the bicycle helmet on from his mast trip, he climbed the ratlines and snared it.  This whole situation was caused by my not tightening the brake on the winch enough when I had raised the jib the first time.  I was once again taken to task for my lack of seamanship.

    As of now we are doing 6 knots with a double-reefed main and staysail only.  We are looking at arriving at Cape Town tomorrow evening.  I will be kissing the ground on our arrival.

The Misery Worsens

09/13/02 – Friday the 13th

    Last night was very likely the most miserable night of the passage (so far).  We decided not to tack, as the other course provided no advantage over the current one, though both courses were terrible.  At the end of Eric’s watch (start of my 2000 watch), the wind shot up above 30 knots, and we decided to take the 3rd reef in the main.  Through the night the wind varied from 25-35 knots, sometimes going up to 40.  The seas were exceedingly rough, and the boat was tossed all over the place, all the while heeling between 20 and 40 degrees.  I have never experienced so much difficulty moving about in the boat.  The biggest challenge was using the head, getting slammed into the wall with my pants around my knees.  Care had to be taken to pump the head as soon as possible, lest the contents spill out from the extreme heel and bouncing of the boat.  We tacked a couple of times during the night, and finally settled on port tack, which is where we are this morning.  The most frustrating thing is, with all this suffering, we are making very little headway towards Cape Town.  The wind is coming right at us from the direction of Cape Town, sometimes at gale force.  I am losing my mind, but there is nothing I can do but hang on.

A Magnificently Horrible Night

09/12/02

    It has been yet another magnificently horrible night.  First, at 1700 yesterday (the end of my watch) we decided there was enough wind (barely) to stop the engine and raise the sails.  That we did, and were cruising gently along on starboard tack, close-hauled, but still 30 degrees off course.  This continued through my 2200 watch, and it looked like I was going to have a good sleep.  Then, at 0330, I woke to a dramatically heeling, crashing world.  Eric called David and I to get up and reef the main, as the wind was blowing 25-30 knots.  This we did, without incident, but when we were done, we found we were sailing at 055 rather than the 085 we had been sailing.  We were contemplating tacking, but then the wind came back around.  I started my 0400 watch (it was 0430 by the time the reefing was done) with instructions to holler if the course goes back down below 060 for any length of time.  The first 45 minutes were uneventful, and I listened to the BBC coverage of the 9/11 observance ceremonies.  At 0515 I looked at the GPS and saw that our course had dropped down to 055 again.  I decided to watch for half an hour before alerting anybody, in case it was temporary.  After 20 minutes I heard the jib luffing, and when I shined the flashlight out I saw that one of Victor’s steering lines was hanging loose.  I immediately woke up Eric and went to the cockpit and began hand steering.  Shortly after, Eric and David were also in the cockpit and we were assessing the situation.  First, we decided to reef the jib, then we decided to tack to get a better course (the wind speed had also come up a little).  With the abbreviated jib we weren’t able to get enough speed to tack, so we had to turn on the engine and power through the tack.  The course we had on port tack was really bad for some reason and we decided to go back to starboard tack.  Once this was done, Eric gave the helm to me to steer while he and David worked on fixing the steering line.  It took at least half an hour to fix the line, and I was getting cold, having not bothered to wear my gloves.  I was also standing on the side of the cockpit, as we continued to heel dramatically even with double-reefed main and staysail only.  We were done at 0730, and I went to sleep, leaving David and Eric.  When I woke up at 1000, we were on port tack again, crashing and banging on the heavy seas, and my sleeping bag was covered with drips.  As of now (1130) we are still crashing and banging, and I am barely holding onto the galley table to write this.  The winds are blowing 20-25 knots.  We are certainly earning this passage to Cape Town.  The best we can sail is 185 degrees, but the rhumb line is 118.  We will be tacking again at the end of the day if the wind doesn’t come around. 

    These conditions will certainly effect our ETA for Cape Town.  I don’t think I have ever wanted to get somewhere as badly as I want to get to Cape Town right now.

More Repairs in Calm Seas

09/11/02

    We are still motoring today, as there is still no wind.  Eric patched up the broken slide-batten connections this morning, so in the event the wind does come up we can fly the full main.  We are getting to a point where fuel usage is a problem.  We also were able to replace the man overboard pole flag in the sleeve.  The sleeve comes loose sometimes when the wind comes up, and during this last gale, the sleeve was pushed all the way to the top of the backstay and was hung up on the insulator for a couple of days.  We were afraid we would need to go up the mast to get it down. 

    Today is of course the first anniversary of the World Trade Center attack, and I am remembering the horrible events of that day, as we sit “safely” in the South Atlantic, far from any terrorist target.  I will be listening attentively to BBC world service tonight to see if anything else happens today.

Motoring in Search of Wind Again

09/10/02

    Not much new since yesterday.  We are still motoring in search of wind.  Eric found a torn spot on the staysail this morning, which I helped him fix with a patch.  The sun has been coming in and out, but overall it is quite comfortable on deck during the day.  We have only had one or two days when I really felt cold.

I'm a Loser, Baby

09/09/02

    The wind and waves went down gradually yesterday, and before dinner we shook the third reef out of the main.  At 0200, Eric woke me up to say that the wind had died, and we were taking advantage of the situation to take off the damaged jib. 

    I put on my gear and went on deck.  I was controlling the reel winch for the jib halyard, and had released the brake so David could bring down  the jib.  David was unable to get the jib out of the trace because the feeder, a steel piece that fits into the track to facilitate feeding the sail luff into the groove, was preventing the luff from coming out.  I went forward to  help him take off the feeder, which was a little tricky.  I neglected to tighten the brake on the winch before I went forward, and as a result, when we were occupied lowering the sail, the halyard unwound from the winch and fouled on the spreader, and we were later to find out, fouled on the top of the headstay too. 

    After taking down the jib, which was torn right down the middle, rolling it up like a sausage, and lashing it to the lifelines, we decided to turn on the engine, go to sleep, and continue in the morning to raise the yankee jib in the place of the torn genoa. 

    The next morning I was able to unfoul the halyard from the spreader with little problem, and I thought it was a happy ending for my fuck-up.  However, when we were attaching the sail to the furler, Eric noticed that the halyard at the top of the headstay was not quite running right, it was twisted on something.  We made many attempts to free it from below by looping the halyard around and shaking it about, all to no avail.  Eric had some very harsh words with me about the fact that I had been on the boat for three months and was still making fundamental mistakes.  This is not the first time I have screwed up with the winch brake.  I don’t know what I can do to insure that I won’t do it again.  I don’t feel like I can trust myself.  David volunteered to go up the mast to fix the halyard.  He went up in the bosun’s chair, wearing the bicycle helmet, and was able to fix it in short order.  I feel very low at this point, knowing that Eric has expressed in no uncertain terms his lack of confidence in me.  I can’t possibly have confidence in myself at this point, and I need to do something to remedy this. 

    We are still motoring at this point, looking for wind.  At least it is a beautiful, warm day and we are being followed by four big albatrosses.

Shredding the Jib and Heaving To in a Gale

09/07/02

    Yesterday was not a good day, and today is no great shakes either.  Later on the wind swung around, and it was necessary for us to set the whisker pole and go on a run.  This was okay for a while, but the wind continued to back and I had an unplanned gybe while trying to get the boat on course.  This is not a real big deal when we have the preventer and the pole rigged.  It’s just a pain in the ass to bring the boat around and reset the wind vane.  As the wind continued to back we decided to gybe the boat and run on port tack instead.  At this point we had decided to see a movie, as the boat motion was reasonable, but during the movie the boat gybed three times and we gave up on the movie and decided to roll in the jib for the night to make our position less precarious.  Miraculously, within a minute after we rolled in the jib the wind started really wailing.  It would have destroyed the jib had it been out.  We went below and the wind moderated a bit.  We then decided to put out minimum jib and just do the best we could on a reach through the night.  At this point it was 2230, and I laid down for a little bit before my watch started at 2400.  When I awoke, the boat was crashing all over the place.  As I rose from my bunk, Eric said “You’d better put your gear on.  We’ve got to do something out there.  I’ll get David up, too.  Don’t forget your harness.”  We decided to put the third reef in the main, set the staysail, and heave to.  The jib shredded as we were rolling it in.  I was having a hell of a time raising the main (after the reef) and raising the staysail.  There is a tremendous amount of pressure on these sails, even when we’re heading into the wind.  I felt so weak as I struggled with the winch handle, simultaneously struggling to keep my footing and stay upright on the pitching deck.  I was not able to get the staysail all the way up without loosening the outhaul, which was very stubborn.  Once I got the outhaul loosened and the sail up, there was nothing I could do to tighten the outhaul up again.  It just wouldn’t budge.  Not being able to tighten the outhaul severely reduced the effectiveness of our heaving to, but we were able to get the boat pointed into the wind so we could leave it for the night.  Through the night, the boat bobbed and crashed over the sizable seas that had built up, as the wind stayed around 30 knots most of the night.  As soon as the sun came up, we all got our gear on again and went up to figure out what to do.  Overnight, the plywood wind paddle that sits on top of Victor had snapped right off, with just the nub attached to the mechanism.  There were tatters flapping from the jib.  This sail would not be usable again until it gets fixed in Cape Town.  At this point the wind was blowing 35-40 knots, sometimes approaching 45 knots.

    We had a spare wind vane paddle which we affixed to Victor, then we gybed the boat around to starboard tack and went on a reach.  That leaves us where we are now, rolling with big seas, carrying the least amount of sail that we can, and making 6.5 knots.  The sky is clear but the wind has been blowing a gale.

    This is a situation that I knew was going to happen sooner or later on this trip.  That didn’t prevent me from asking the question “What the heck am I doing here?”  when it happened.  I am frankly relieved somewhat that we got a little heavy weather experience before embarking on our next leg, which is practically guaranteed to have worse conditions than this, though we will be outfitted with more appropriate canvas then.  As I am writing, a wave crashed over the boat that sent spray over the entire rear of the boat, reaching several feet higher than the top of the radar mast.  It looks like its going to be a wild ride into Cape Town.

Wind Shift

09/07/02

    We got a major wind shift last night, which came amidst a driving rain.  The wind swung around to SW, so now we are sailing on starboard (!) tack on a broad reach, which is good for my sleeping.  It was quite cool and damp last night from the rain.  The wind has gone from 10 to 25 knots.

    This morning when I awoke there were swarms of birds surrounding the boat.  Eric had his video camera out, as he had tried to capture an albatross, which of course was gone by the time he had the camera ready.  Later on, as I was sitting in the cockpit, the albatross came back, sat in the water, and took off right next to the boat!  It would have been a perfect video shot, as the albatross taking off is quite a sight, it’s huge webbed feet walking on the water as it struggles to get aloft.  Alas, I had no camera ready.

In and Out With the Jib

09/05/02

    Since yesterday, the jib has been going in and out like an accordion.  The wind will drop to 10-12 knots, and we will roll out the jib, then an hour later it will climb to 20 knots, and we will roll the jib in again.  We are hoping to keep a 150 mile a day pace, as that would get us to Cape Town before the weekend, as we are currently 1050 miles distant.

    We had a number of painted petrels flying around the boat yesterday, and I took the Nikon with zoom lens attached and took some pictures.  Hopefully they will be in focus, as those suckers move fast.  Eric has been working on his book this week, which will be an autobiography entitled “Sailing Free”.  He has been reading the introduction to us during happy hour, and we have been making suggestions.  He thinks he can go through the chapters quickly once he gets started, but of course the book won’t be finished until this trip is finished, as we are the final chapter.

Making Good Time!

09/04/02

I seem to have contained the leaks with my t-shirts (so far!), and we have been continuing to sail on a close reach with 15-20 knot winds, which is wonderful.  Yesterday we made 150 miles.  We measure the mileage officially at 1400 each day.  It is the responsibility of the 1100-1400 watch person to note the GPS position and distance/bearing to waypoint at the end of their watch, which Eric later plots on our Ocean chart.  Yesterday we passed the longitude of Tristan de Cunha, leaving it a few hundred miles to our south.

    So far today we are on a pace to make 170 miles, as we have been averaging around 7 knots.  This is more than 10% of the distance remaining, and it is great to think that every day that percentage will grow, as the distance becomes shorter.  Once we reach the Greenwich Meridian (440 miles away) we will be on the home stretch, though it is hard to think of 900 miles as being a home stretch!

    I saw the Albatross flying about the boat again this morning, but by the time I came back with my camera he was gone.  These birds are very difficult to photograph.

The Leaks Return

09/03/02

    The wind died last night for a while, and we saw another movie (“My Man Godrey” with William Powell) to take advantage of the relatively calm weather.  By the time the movie was over the wind was coming up again, and my 2200 watch was pretty smooth with 12-15 knot winds.  I went to sleep after that, and as often happens, I woke up at the time that David and Eric were changing watches.  I always listen at this time if I’m awake, to see if there are any conditions worth noting.  David mentioned that one of the sail slides had become disconnected from the batten end fitting, as the strap had chafed through from the sail’s slapping over the previous three months.  Then I heard the words “reef” and “main” both mentioned in the same sentence, and I awaited those words “we had better get Bob up”, and upon hearing them sprang up from my bunk and prepared to go on deck.  We put two reefs in the main, as the wind was blowing well over 20 knots, and we also wanted to protect the slideless portion of the sail, which was below the second reef point.  Once again we had to re-tie the bowlines on the reef point lines.  These are the thin lines that are set through grommets that run along the reef point of the sail, and are used to gather up the sagging, unused sale that hangs below the reef.  We rig them with a figure eight on one side, and a bowline loop on the other, so that when we tie in a reef we take the free end, bring it around the loose sail, then do a round turn and two half-hitches through the loop.  Throughout this trip, we have had a problem with the bowline loops working themselves out, so that when the time comes to tie the reef we have to re-tie the bowlines.  This can be quite annoying when you are hanging on the boom for dear life, standing on either the companionway hatch or on the steering pedestal, bracing your body so that the boom does not pitch back and toss you off the boat.  We have tried a number of things to save the bowlines.  In Horta we replaced the lines with smaller ones, and I pre-tied the bowlines and tightened them against a cleat horn before we put them on the sail.  This did not hold up for long, and my next idea was to tie a figure eight before the bowline so the bowline would not make contact with the sail.  I really thought this would work, but a few days later I looked up and once again saw the lines hanging loose where the bowlines should have been.  I guess there is just no way around this.

    The wind continued strong through the night and the seas are building up.  This means that we started taking spray on the port side, and the fucking leaks are starting to come back.  When I awoke this morning, the top of my sleeping bag, which up to now I had managed to protect, was wet, and there was a small wet spot on my sheet.  After several grumbles and curses, I got my old t-shirts out and set to re-rigging my leak stop apparatus.  It is not too bad yet, but I’m afraid the build up of the seas is only beginning.

Two Weeks Till Cape Town!!

09/02/02

    We are still going along well on a reach.  At this point we are about 1650 miles from Cape Town, and should be there in two weeks.  I called Sue on the Iridium and gave her our position.  I can’t wait to get there, see Sue, sleep in a real bed, and eat real food again.  I find that a lot of the time I think about what I’m going to eat when I get back to Long Island.  Not that the food we have on the boat is not good, it’s just that the variety is not that great, and after three months it can get old. 

    The water maker is working once again!

Confirmed Albatross Sighting

09/01/02

    We made some good progress last night, as the wind was around 15 knots, up to 20 at times.  This morning it is back around 10, and we are loping along.  I saw the Albatross again yesterday, and Eric was able to look at it and confirm my identification.  It appears to be a young specimen, not fully grown, though it is still significantly larger than the other birds I have seen.

The Albatross

    Although it is definitely colder now at night, when the sun is shining during the day it is still quite comfortable on deck, and I am still able to get by with shorts and a t-shirt.  I am holding onto the shorts as long as possible, though I have a pair of leggings ready to put on as soon as the temperature drops.  Blue jeans are not practical to wear on the boat, as they soak up moisture like a sponge, and there is a surprising amount of dew accumulating everywhere at night. 

    The water maker has once again started leaking and Eric’s first attempt to fix it has failed.  He will try again today.