	The Crossing from Mexico to the Marquesas

08/16/06

The Pacific Crossing

Hello from the big blue

Love and Dreams

Ross and Laura

The story…

We departed Puerto Vallarta, Mexico on March 20^th at about 3 pm with a steady breeze and calm seas … and then the wind slowly dyed, refreshed, dyed, slowly drifted us on and pushed us to 150+ mile days. The weather also blustered and rained and the seas rammed us like a rocking washing machine. The 23-day trip had its ups and downs. I must say it takes a week to get used to the motion and the routine of having 24 hour watches, cooking with rolling seas, sail changes and taking the time to notice the details. Then after about 20 days, we were both ready for land, a long shower, laundry, take-out food and a boat that stays in one place.

This is the log we kept for the crossing.

Day 1

On March 21, 2006 at 9:30am our position is 20 31'N 106 43'W.

This is an update for all of you out there wondering were we are. Well, we are pushing out from Puerto Vallarta on to the Marqueses at about 5 knots with 9 knots of breeze from the north. The wind is slowly dyeing, scattered clouds and all is well. Will write more when I have caught up on sleep.

Day 2

We are currently at 19 29'N, 109 00'W.

We are doing much better and are settling in to the long cruise ahead and as we do the energy builds in anticipation and recognition of how amazing this trip is!

Shortly after I sent off yesterdays email, we checked in with the puddle jumpers net and to our dismay found that everyone was traveling much faster than we were for similar conditions. So, we got off our lazy butts and hoisted the main. Much better now. Taking into account a course change yesterday we have logged a 150+ mile day! We are steering fully by wind vane and haven't seen a container ship since we changed course 100 miles ago to 235T.

On the fauna side we have seen an amazing abundance of flying fish, with schools of 20 or more taking flight at once. We have seen an occasional bird investigating our navigation light at night.

Day 3 - Rolling seas - a 124 mile day.

The winds have come around to the North North East and lightened to about 12 knots. We are still about 300 miles from the trades. Our position is 18 23'N, 110 55'W, making 4.5-5 knots, heading 250T, and a 6 foot swell out of the North West.

For those on the list that are not sailors, the game in these conditions is to keep the sails full. As the boat rolls side to side the weight and momentum of the canvas pulls the sail from side to side, releasing the pocket of air. As the boat rolls back the sail refills and slams tight on the rigging. Not good, in that it causes wear and tear on the rigging and sails as well as temporarily loosing the pull of the wind causing us to slow.

Last night the sky was clear and the stars were brilliant.

Day 4- Land Ho!!?

Yesterday afternoon Laura and I were sitting in the cockpit chatting about the trip and dreaming about what the islands will be like when she says, "land!" I respond that, yes it will be nice to see land when we get across because we already feel so far away from everything. "No" comes Laura's response a little more urgent as she points over my shoulder. I turn around and there is a mountain making its way out of the clouds. I am shocked for a moment until I remembered that we passed a island on the map about ten miles back. Now we were 23 miles away and the steep mountain made it's presence known as the veil clouds that had concealed it for the past 3-4 hours parted to reveal the majestic volcanic core of Isla Socorro, the largest in the Revillagigedo island group.

Revillagigedo has special significance to our trip, not because of it's long and rather hard to pronounce name, but because it is also the name of the island in Alaska on which the city of Ketchikan is located. We spent a number of days in Ketchikan visiting family friends and enjoying the people. If this email makes it to the Martins who entertained us in Ketchikan and made known the local knowledge of South East Alaska, we thank you for the use of your charts and warm hospitality.

We are currently motoring at 6 knots on a course of 238T with 5-8 knot winds out of the North East and a light 3 foot swell out of the North West. Our current position as of March 24, 2006 at 1800 UTC is

N 17 03', W 113 12'. The water color has changed to a bright deep blue that appears to have unlimited visibility, but with no references to check, because the bottom is 10,000 feet below us.

Day 5 - Chute

We are currently motoring at 5.7 knots at a heading of 233T. Our position as of March 25, 2006 at 1530 utc is N 16 11' W 115 01'. Wind is 5-7 out of the North North East and a 3' swell out of the North West. It is difficult to keep the sails full at this time.

Yesterday after the Puddle Jump net we decided to raise the spinnaker because New Horizons IV, a boat 70 miles behind us, was making good time with there's. The spinnaker had not been out of the bag for over a year. Truth is we had only flown it once just off Port Townsend and had some kinks to work out of the system. After a few grunts and minimal emotional damage, the chute was up and flying. We made between 4 and 5 knots for six hours before the winds changed and we took it down for the night. It is the fastest we have gone is such light breeze and at times it didn't seem as if there was any breeze at all. Our spinnaker is enormous with more square footage than the Main and Genoa combined, totaling 1300+ square feet. She is a huge mass of purple with streaks of yellow though the middle. Attempting to take a picture proved fruitless because of it's size and close proximity. We will need to wait until another boat is close.

Day 6, it is magical out here

At dawn the water was steel grey in it's reflection of the heavy cloud cover, giving it a hard unforgiving feel. Like a flat tinted sheet of aluminum foil, undulating across the horizon and under our little boat. We sailed on all day like this. Few words spoken. During the last hours of light however, a neat boundary loomed on the horizon. The packed cloud cover stopped, almost as if it forgot what it was doing and gave way to clear blue sky. You could feel the anticipation building on New Dawn. When we crossed the heavenly line, we passed through an invisible curtain that brought back all the colors of the previous days and released the pent up energy on our boat in the form of a cheer. It is magical out here.

We are currently on a heading of 272T at a speed of 4.5 knots. Our position is N 15 08', W 116 58'W. Three foot swell out of the north west and wend speed is 10-12 knots out of the north north east.

Day 7, slop

At 1800 UTC New Dawn was at position N 14 35', W 118 47' steering a course of 255 T. Seas are confused with 3-foot swell out of the North West and 3-foot wind waves out of the North East.

Even a well bread horse feels rough over broken ground. Last evening after dusk the wind shifted more Easterly and freshened to 15 - 22 knots. Seas built through the night, but it wasn't a problem with the strong wind in our sails to help tame there bite. At Dawn the breezes slacked to 7 -10 and the boat felt like a WASHING MACHINE. The seas were still big and would continue for hours to come, but we couldn't keep the sails full as the mast flopped 15 degrees side to side. There was no danger, just misery. I tried to accomplish a number of different tasks to stay busy, but to no avail. The flopping would continue until the slop ran its course.

Several hours later the wind stabilized and we hoisted our chute. The big strong sail dampened the movement and we relaxed.

Day 8, Sailboat, sailboat.

As of 1800 UTC we were at position 13 20' N, 120 09' W and following a course of 206T at 5.5 knots. Wind is out of the North East at 15 knots and swell is once again out of both the North East and North West at 2 - 4 feet. Barometer is 2021 and rising.

Heat poured over our boat early in the day, sparking me to set up our sun awning for a little relief. In further attempts to cool off we both decided to shower in the cockpit and let ourselves air dry in the fresh breeze. Laura was showered, dressed and in a much better mood when I noticed a medium sized cargo ship coming up on our port stern. The ship was close, but we were not in danger of collision, so I finished my shower and started to dry off when we received a call on the VHF radio in a thick indiscernible accent.

"Sailboat, sailboat this is the ship behind you," said the captain of the following ship.

I laughed, "This is 'the sailboat.' go ahead, over."

"Roger. we don't often see small boats this far from land." came the captain, "Where are you going? Over."

Laura and I both laughed. "We are sailing to the Marqueses. Where are you headed? Over."

"Roger. We are headed for Korea. Are you the only one on board? Over."

I trusted the man's voice but didn't want to tell him that my beautiful wife was on board and Laura was down below, so I responded, "There are two of us. Over."

By this time the ship was almost aside us. So I asked, "How fast are you motoring? Over."

"We are traveling at 17 knots. Over."

"Well, you have a good trip and thank you for not running over our little boat. Over."

"Roger. Fair winds and following seas to the Marqueses. Over."

With that I finished dressing, grabbed the camera and went on deck. A man in blue trousers, white coat and captain's hat walked out of the bridge and waved at the rail. I waved back and then took a few pictures of the captain and his ship. We must have been quite a site traveling at 6 - 7 knots with full spinnaker. As the ship eased past I spied the vessels name, "Trigger." I laughed again picturing this foreign captain riding his large awkward looking horse to Korea.

Day 9, kindred spirits

At 1800 UTC we were at N 11 27', W 121 13', traveling at a speed of 6.5 knots on a course of 260T. Winds out of the North East at 15 - 20 knots and seas out of the North East at 4 feet.

Every day all the boats that have prepared in Mexico for the puddle jump tune up their radios and meet to give there updated positions and general support. Each day has a new net controller that has volunteered from the day before at the end of the previous days net. Laura was the net controller yesterday, but in the excitement of it being her first time forgot to sign on a new net controller at the end of her net. That meant that New Dawn was still somewhat responsible for kicking things off today. I get on the radio and ask for any volunteers and get back no answers. In my never failing initiation to rescue people I come on the radio again and ask for volunteers and that if there are none I will be the net operator today. I was the net operator.

The net currently consists of 17 boats ranging with some just leaving Mexico and others arriving in Fatu Hiva of the Marqueses. Every day starts with an announcement to check for any incoming priority or emergency traffic. There were no emergencies as usual so we moved on to check-ins. Each boat comes on one at a time, first giving their boat name then position and weather much as we have done above. After that if some one wants to have a quick conversation with the checked-in boat, that happens at this time. This takes more than a half hour for 17 vessels. By the time we are almost through our list of boats, we receive a break-in transmission declaring that there is an emergency. I ask the vessel to go ahead with their emergency traffic and the story unfolds.

A boat by the name of Blessed Be who was supposed to reach the Marqueses today sent an email to another boat on the net. The email was time stamped for 5 hours prior to the start of the net and the following information was shared over the net.

We are in trouble. No Steerage. Lost Rudder. Attempted to deploy dingy to steer boat and make landfall at S 09 43', W 139 01'. Lost dingy.

The net did what it could to launch assistance. One radio operator tuned into the Ham frequencies, no luck at that time. Another vessel offered to phone for help with an Iridium phone and a call was placed to Don the weather man. Don then phoned the Alameda Coast Guard who notified Honolulu Coast Guard. From there Honolulu contacted the authorities in French Polynesia and offered assistance where needed. That phone call was made two hours ago and we have not heard anything else as yet.

Blessed Be was on the net most every day until today and we feel a kindred spirit as a fellow seagoing vessel. We hope and pray for their safety.

Day 10 for new dawn- a fishy morning

We are currently at 11 00' N and 123 55' W with a boat speed of about 6.4 knots in 15-20 knots of wind.

This is a note from the Admiral, Laura, instead of our captain, Ross.

Early this morning I was on watch and enjoying that the stars were just peaking out of the cloudy skies when... I get hit in the head and something lands on my shoulder and of course I give a girlish squeal stand up to get the flashlight to see what it was. A flying fish had somehow gotten past our lee cloths and dodger to get at me- ahhh the fish was really slippery and wriggly but I did manage to get it back into the water. It was a good sized one too. one that if it had been a trout- we would have kept it and eaten it back home. There were a couple more saving of fish lives later that morning- though none of the others landed on me!

To give you an update on the missing boat, Blessed Be. She is safe and on the hook at Hiva Oa. She was de-masted. Several boats, the people at winlink (a ham email center), Don our weather guy, the coast guard and the French Navy all helped to get her safely to harbor. Glad to know there are resources and resourceful people out there to help when it is needed.

The wind is humming and the sea swells continue to be a washing machine.

(an update) Blessed Be never actually called for help. The email they sent to a friend was- this is what happened to us- can you believe it. They were safely anchored and working on fixing their boat.

Day 11, rain.

At 1800 UTC New Dawn was at position N 09 24', W 125 06', steering a course of 200T at a speed of 6 knots. Winds were out of the North East 15 - 20 knots and sea swell was out of the North East at 7 feet. New Dawn is operating wonderfully with all Major systems working.

By mid afternoon the phantom clouds loomed ahead with menacing darkness. For the previous hour I had been adjusting course in hopes of avoiding the nuisance, but to no avail. It seemed to have an erratic movement, which combined with the dark grey streaks of rain coming out of it gave the appearance of an opaque cape creeping side to side to bar our passage. We were just going to have to live with a little wind and rain.

First the wind piped up followed by just a few drops of rain. Then a hiss that grew in intensity until it was hard to talk. Shortly after came the line of rain that completely enveloped New Dawn. Within seconds water poured off our cockpit cover and onto the decks. The wind waves subsided as the weight and speed of the rain broke the surface tension. We were in it. Laura had managed to through a few items down the companionway before it hit, for everything outside was now wet. We watched in amazement for nearly 15 minutes as hundreds of gallons cleansed our little boat and then it was gone. To our stern the phantom passed and at our bow lay white fluffy clouds. Wow.

Day 12, squal

Our position as of 1500 UTC was N 8 38', W 126 38', motoring at 5.5 knots at a course of 220T. The winds are out of the North East at 10-15 knots and seas are from the North North West at 9 feet. 50% cloud cover.

Just came off watch and literally had to peel my cloths off and wring them out. The rain had come again, but this time was accompanied with wind. The precipitating events were similar to our earlier rain experience, yet the end result was stronger.

About an hour before dawn, we passed close to another dark cloud and received a few drops of rain. It first appeared that this would be all and we would continue on our way. However the wind and rain intensified rapidly and simultaneously. The wind pressed against New Dawn and she tried to round-up because of too much canvas. I was trying to remedy this, yet for the first time I was unable to simply hand over hand the furling line and had to move to a winch which was made difficult because I had the jib sheet in my other hand. During this brief period the wind continued to intensify into the upper thirties. As New Dawn continued to try and round up because of too much sail, the boat came broadside to the following seas and we took on water in the cock pit. This is when I decide it would be a good idea to wake up Laura.

"Honey," I said in a forced calm voice, "I need your help up here now." Laura was quick to respond and I made her first task to install and secure the companionway boards. Laura then went on her way to get dressed with full safety gear and I to deal with the sail. First things first. I cleated off the sail. Spun the furling line around the winch and then hauled it in short lengths alternated with slacking the sheet. Next I adjusted our wind vane to steer more with the waves and New Dawn came into her own. We glided on at 8-9.5 knots down the waves in perfect balance. She is truly a beautiful boat.

This lasted for 20 minutes during which, Laura joined me in the cockpit and we had a fun almost giddy conversation about how fast our relative environment had changed. The wind and rain softened and the sky brightened as the coming dawn greeted New Dawn on our continued journey South.

Day 13, ITCZ

At 1800 utc New Dawn was at the position N 07 30', W 128 20', traveling at a speed of 5.5 knots on a course of 200T. Wind is out of the North East at 15 - 20 and the Seas are also out of the North East and confused at 4 feet. Cloud cover is 60%.

The Inter Tropical Convergence Zone or ITCZ is a fluctuating band of flat weather that is squashed between the Northern and Southern high pressure weather systems. The weather inside the ITCZ is calm and usually poor sailing, However, micro weather systems and thunder clouds tend to deposit and migrate from east to west just North of the Northern boundary of the ITCZ. This is the area that New Dawn is approaching and will be in for the next 24 hours. the cloud systems are spread out and diverse with everything from towering cumulus clouds to low lying dark rain clouds.

There is no steady rhythm except for the constant pumping of wind between 10 and 20 knots. The sky is bright but generally gloomy. This also marks the beginning of the second half of the trip and possibly speculating our arrival in Fatu Hiva at day 24.

Day 14, Darkness?

March 3, at 1800 utc New Dawn was at position N 05 43', W 129 25', on a course of 200T at a speed of 6 knots. Winds are confused at 5 knots and sea are North West at 4 feet. 100% cloud cover.

The night after we entered the northern edge of the ITCZ we crossed squall after squall. Each time the night was blacked out with zero visibility. All I could do was listen for the coming and abating rain or the quickening and shifting wind. As night settled in a small relief in visibility gave way in the form of phosphorescence. Now instead of only blackness in the night I could see bright wisps of white float past the cockpit giving a feeling of eerie wonder in a state of chaos. The whole event built a pressure in me that yearned to be done with this stretch of water. Alas only time would tell the story.

The black night continued and with each passing hour the wind and seas subsided slightly. Dawn came and we were not yet through it. I felt that crossing this line of weather marked our completion of all we had sailed in Alaska and down the coast. All of that, and now we were pushing up against this indefinite barrier that would not yield. And then it happened. Just before lunch we sailed out of a dark cloud bank and into fluffy white and blue sky. We laughed, had lunch and sailed for four lovely hours.

I tried to deny what happened next as long as I could, but it was inevitable and for which I'm sure I will need counseling. This wonderful world we were sailing in was being taken away. Behind us quickly advanced the dark cloud line that we had only departed hours ago and there was no way of out running it.

We were back in the dark.

Day 15, Calm.

As of March 4, 2006, 1800 UTC New Dawn was at position N 03 49', W 130 24', on a heading of 200T and making 3 knots. Winds are out of the North West at 7 knots and Seas are out of the East at 4 feet. Cloud cover 30%.

We finished up 24 hours of motoring by mid morning and decided to give the diesel, our selves and our fuel supply a break. We have currently used up about half our fuel with only 90 hours worth left on board. Time to do some sailing.

Due to the sloppy rolling seas and the light wind we opted for polling out the genoa in a technically wrong manner, but right for our situation. If we shaped our sails properly for the wind they would flop and shudder all day. So the Genoa is polled out to board flat and doesn't make a sound. It is a little trick we learned from a 100,000+ mile ocean veteran. The speed fluctuates between 2.5 to 3.5 knots. Supplementing 6 hours of motoring at night will hopefully bump our daily totals to between 70 and 90 miles as well as save on fuel.

Life has slowed down now. Marc Coen plays on the stereo as the endless soft ripples of blue parade from horizon to horizon. White clouds lounge in a gentle sky as I gaze from the shadowed cover of the awning out to the endless hues of blue. Silly romantic shapes play in the heavenly space. Life is good.

Day 16, Comfort

On April 5, 2006 at 1800 UTC New Dawn was at position N 2 29', W 130 42', steering a course of 180T and motoring at 4.9 knots. Winds is out of the South South East at 6 knots and seas from the South South East at 2 feet. 20% cloud cover.

A good amount of time and energy is spent on simply being comfortable and the most challenging part of comfort is staying cool. As I write I can feel the individual beads of sweat creeping down my back. We have developed a number of rituals to help with the heat. When I wake the first thing I do is go up to the cockpit and stand in the breeze and cool off until I can go back down and make something to eat. In the afternoon when the clouds are gone and the day is hot our favorite activity is to use the cockpit wash down to water our legs. Letting the water cling to our skin while the wind slowly pulls away the water in the form of vapor and heat. Of course there is shower time for which we have abandoned the use of the solar shower for the more readily available and cooler water of the cockpit wash down. Comfort underway in the tropics is definitely centered around being cool.

Being at sea for over two weeks we are two thirds of the way there with 1800 miles behind us and 900 left to go. We may have gone too far West before heading south across the ITCZ and means we will need to sail hard against the wind after the equator. Going that far West in previous years wouldn't have been a problem because the winds are usually more out of the East. This Year the southern trades are more out of the South making it a little tricky, but not a big deal.

Day 17, plunge

As of April 6, 2006 at 1800 UTC New Dawn was at position N 00 37', W 130 36', steering a course of 190T at a rate of 5 knots. Winds were out of the North East at 7 knots and seas out of the North East at 2 feet. 20% cloud cover.

I stood at the rail amid ship. Laura was close and waiting. I could smell the pungent adrenalin coursing though me. It was five minutes to 10 pm local time and the sky was dark save for the stars that shone and reflected off the glistening surface of the sea. Beyond the sea surface I could sense the fathomless depth that threaten to pull me under. I held my breath and stepped into it's embrace. feeling small, like the sprinkling of fish food on top of an aquarium, the cool and salty water surrounded me and pervaded my senses. When my head came to the surface I was at the stern of the boat as it was moving away. Grabbing the streaming line I had set earlier, I pulled myself to the stern ladder and out. The experience was not what I had expected, but exhilarating none the less. I had dreamt that I would feel some communion with the void and come away with some great jewel of wisdom, but in the end I felt small and clinging to life. Laura wasn't about to jump in the three mile deep abyss that is notorious for the occasional oceanic shark visitor. In the cockpit the bottle of champion opened and Laura and I shared a few sentiments with Neptune. We had crossed the equator. After the festivities with the champion buzz lingering on my lips, I took in the vastness and smiled at the security that enveloped this little ship.

Day 18 the Provisioning

We are slowly (fluxing between 1.5 & 3.1 knots) heading south as Shellbacks. (a shellback is someone that has crossed the equator in a boat- we used to be pollywogs)

our 1800 zulu time coordinates were 01 02' S & 131 11' W on a course of 199 T at a speed @ 2.1 knots

the wind is fluxing from the North East from 5-8 knots, sea swell is E mostly about 2'.

we have mostly clear skies and sun shine

no wildlife sightings so far for today.

I chose provisioning as a topic since we eat like kings here. we are the sams club of the sea and our waterline reflects it! Even though we are currently eating our way through our refrigerator and fresh supplies, there is always a bit of pulpy fruit, liquid vegetables or moldy bread to toss to the sea gods. It is quite a site to see a loaf and a half of bread bob along in the rolling waves in the wake of the boat. So I plan on making bread in a day or two and thought I would share my sea water recipe I got from a salty sailor aboard sv Svanika from Australia. Remember, Australia has different measurements from us so I translated the recipe sort of.

Allan's Sea Water bread

preheat oven moderate (300ish F)

bake in a greased tin for @ 30 min and turn halfway through.

Tap bread- when it sounds hollow- it is done.

4 Cups flour

1 dessert spoon of sugar (? 1 Tablespoon? )

1 1/4 Cup sea water- luke warm

1 sachet of yeast (approx 1 ½ T)

dissolve sugar and yeast into the warm seawater. add flour. mix until shiny. (not too sticky & not too dry) Place in a well buttered tin & then place in the sun. Wait for the dough to double in size. Knead. Put dough in baking tin again and wait for dough to double again.

For looks- you can paint the dough with milk

Bake.

To save to loaf, paint with vinegar, cover lightly but thoroughly. wrap well.

note: if you are on land- I have no idea how to make sea water- your guess is as good as mine.

Day 19, trades

At 1800 UTC New Dawn was at position S 02 22', W 131 55', steering a course of 210T at a speed of 5.8 knots. The wind is out of the South East at 15 knots and seas are out of the South East at 3 feet. Cloud cover is 30%.

The trades started filling in last night and this afternoon we are getting a steady 15 knots. New Dawn feels alive as she bounces and skips over the beam seas. If the trades keep up we will be in the Marquesas some time on Thursday (knock on wood). We are now less than 650 miles away which means we are three quarters of the way there. Laura and I are almost giddy. One consistent new feature to our landscape is the occasional tropical rain cloud. They generally move from East to West and the sky under them is streaked with grey if there is any light at all. They don't seem to have the same wind power as the squalls we encountered in the ITCZ but just as much rain. With a little practice it is easy to steer around these giants or in to them if we needed water.

day 20- "Are we there yet?"

As of 22:00 Zulu - our position was 04 36' S, 133 14' W sailing a course of 210 T at about 5 knots

approximately 473 miles from our destination of Fatu Hiva.

weather has been up and down- calms and squalls- though the squalls do bring wind anywhere from 12-20 knots and are not always full of rain. we currently have wind out of the SSE at 10-20knots with confused seas

I am having a rough time of it since I really want to cook a good meal in a stable boat and have a full night sleep- neither of which I or Ross are capable of doing right now- so I look at the bright side. We are sailing and not motoring. We have quick food in cans that is tasty (I am eating pineapple right now) And lastly, we are less than 500 miles to our destination.

No real news to report. our days are full of raising, lowering and trimming our sails, motoring, doing our daily sudoku and reading our books as we watch our course and wind.

Day 21, wave.

At 1800 UTC New Dawn was at position S 06 01', W 134 28', steering a course of 200 true at a rate of 4.5 knots. Winds out of the North West at 10 knots and seas confused at 4 feet. Cloud cover is 70%.

Our noon radio net check-in was interrupted when the wind suddenly shifted, causing the sails to flap violently. Laura completed the remainder of the broad cast while I tended the flapping sails. The wind had swapped directions and instead of coming out of the South East was now coming out of the North West and continued to build into the mid twenties. The wind direction seemed almost impossible, but a few of the other boats on the net reported this same strange wind disturbance as well. It looked like we were in a fluky reverse wind pattern.

The strong wind shift also played havoc on the waves. The once steady South East swell was now bucking against a building North West swell That continued to toss the boat more violently. After working for some time to find a more comfortable course I stood in the companionway and watched the sea state unfold. That is when it happened. I saw it out of the reflection of the dodger window and had slid the companion way hatch halfway shut when wham. Water poured onto the back deck and into the cockpit and although I was mostly protected by the dodger about five extra gallons found me and down the companion way. The water that entered the boat was instantly taken up by the bilge and the pump started. The cockpit was filled with about ten inches of water and slowly drained out the four scupper holes. The galley hatch had been ajar as well and the galley was covered with a layer of saltwater. We both cleaned as best we could and then laughed about the freak accident. Although I was careful from that point on to close the companionway door, I checked the port window before going out as to not be caught by another big wave.

Through the next five hours the cockpit would not even see the spray of another wave and yet that one had managed to douse us toughly. At sunset we found ourselves motoring over a lumpy smooth surface with no wind at all.

Day 22 – Cabbage

I almost feel like Wallace and Grommet with a title like that!

okay- we had a little trouble getting our email out yesterday so that is why this will be the second email you get from us- we hope- today.

At 22:40 zulu our position is 07 33' S, 135 58' W. Steering a course of 230T with winds out of the E between 5-15 knots, our speed is 5 knots and swell is 4 feet or so from the east.

Cabbage is my title for today since I have eaten all our lettuce (amazing that it lasted this long) and am now cutting into our cabbage supply. I do not know any recipes- I sort of made up one for today. So I send a call out: Please send us your favorite cabbage recipe. Thank you or Mauruuru.

Not too much to report. We showered today- which always makes things better. We have a wash down, fresh water, pump in the cockpit. Those cold showers feel great on a hot day.

We are 219 miles away from Hiva Oa. I know you may be wondering- I thought they were going to Fatu Hiva first. Well... it has been a long trip and we just want to get to civilization with fresh baguettes and a possible laundry place. ... and it is 30 miles or so closer.

Day 23, hove-to

At 1800 UTC New Dawn was at position S 09 20', W 138 09' traveling at 7 knots on a course of 230T. The winds are out of the East at 15-20 knots and the seas are also out of the East at 7 feet. Cloud cover is 20%.

Excitement builds on New Dawn as one of our best sailing days during the crossing brings us closer to the shores of Hiva Oa and the port town of Atuona. Sliding down wave faces at 7.8 knots and into the troughs across an endless expanse of similar waves all while being caressed by a warm and not too overbearing sun. We are currently 45 miles from Hiva Oa and are straining our eyes for any sign of dirt and we know that we are too late to make landfall today. With only an hour and a half of light left we will be slowing down and likely heaving-to too for the night and waiting for the coming of dawn. Heaving-to is one of the magical parts of sailing. It involves maneuvering the boat in such a way that she stay parked in the ocean, allowing the ocean swell and wind to sweep by while the occupants take a much deserved break. Another benefit of this maneuver is that it makes 7 foot swells feel like 3 foot swells and 20 knot winds feel like 10.

P. S. We made salt water bread today- the first time I had made it and the bread tastes great and is half gone. - cheers laura

Day 24 - Land Ho

We are anchored on the island of Hiva Oa, near the town of Atuona. We set both of our anchors (bow and stern) at 18:52 zulu time, 12:52 Mexico time, 9:22 am Marquesian time.

We cleaned our boat up a bit and took a nap since Customs closed at 11:00 am and it is a 2 mile hike to town and we were not going to make it today. So then we hiked to town and saw the lay of the land. The land is beautiful. Green, red, rich land in the shape of mighty mountains.

We are back at the boat late since we visited with other friends on their boat and I am now half asleep. I missed all my nap time between watches today!

This day 24 thing... Ross started us out at 1 - so really we are day 23 and if you think about the fact that we left the fuel dock in Mexico at 3:44 and arrived here at 12:52- really it is day 22 and 21 hours or so. :)

This site was last updated 08/11/06