Hoo-ahh!

Sailing in 30 knots of wind can be a blast when the weather is nice and the right sails are up. We had many hours of this kind of sailing, pulling ten tons of boat along at hull speed with sails no bigger than a dinghy's.

Sea legs

"Did you get sea sick?" Is a question I hear often now that I'm back. The answer is yes, I certainly did. Was it bad? Well, you get used to it, your body adapts, then it passes and all is well again.

The first day out of Ko Olina started off great, the seas were relitively gentle, and it was a warm day. I was wearing a patch just behind my ear which is supposed to help with motion sickness. I've been sea sick before, but that was stopped on a motor boat out in Monterey Bay, never while sailing. Of course even in a sailboat, I know that going into the cabin while rolling over the waves will make me sick nearly instantly, but up above with a fresh breeze, and active involvement in working the boat keeps down any reactions.

This time was different. I thought the medication would keep away any symptoms, but within only a few hours I was feeling ill. What really triggered it was working up on the bow of the boat, changing sails. The forward part of the boat just moves more, it lifts and drops each time the boat crosses the waves, in a way that the stern of the boat does not.

Then trying to go below, into the cabin only exaserbated the situation. Several of us got sick that first day.

It gets better though, and the sleep is the magic elixer that cures it. I would guess that while you're sleeping your body adapts, it stops trying to fight the motion, and accepts that this new and fluid enviroment is simply the way things are now.

Those first few days, we spent a lot of time sleeping in the cockpit, to avoid trips below. Either that or you would have to make the "sleep run," where you rush down the companionway steps into the cabin, wedge yourself into the berth as quick as possible so you can lay down an close your eyes. That's the safe position, eyes tight to shut out the vision of a world just before you that roils with motion that defies all attempts to fix it in place. Your mind tries to reject such an incongruous pairing of sensation and sight; shutting out one sensory channel is the only avenue of respite. Once you wake, then you rush the opposite way, carefully waiting to open your eyes and make the mad dash back outside.

I slept in my gear a lot those first few days, lying in the bunk with a life jacket on, trying to fall asleep and gain some relief.

That was really only the first two days, and once you gain your sea legs, everything is wonderful agian. Your world become a playground, the challenges of balancing down below are fun (unless it's really rough) and sometimes sitting in the salon or the v-berth at the front of the boat and just feeling the motion is a delight. It's hard to describe the difference, because there is a subtle difference in the way you feel the motion. Initially there was that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, the constant sensation of lifting and falling, but then it goes away. You still feel the motion a bit in your head, but it's like your brain turns the volume on it down to the point where it's just a murmur in your mind.

Later, towards the end of the trip, when the seas got really rough, the sea sickness came back. It seems, that adaptation happens by degrees, so it was back to the medication, back to rushed trips down to the bunks, and lots of time outside. That passed again as well for most of us, but it can really make you miserable for a time. Though I think that few of us were on this trip to do things the easy way, or to let the discomfort discourage us. If we wanted that, we'd be on one of those gigantic floating-city type cruise ships.

A little crustier now

Phil described sailing around Cape Horn as the sailing equivalent of climbing Mount Everest. I can see that. During his trip around the Horn, I'm sure his perspective on heavy weather got reset the same way the rest of the crew's was during this trip. I know I'm not alone in feeling like my sailing experience up to this point—all of it in the Bay—suddenly seems very sheltered. We're all a little crustier now.

I've seen 15-foot seas in a boat and I've seen 35-knot winds, but put them together in the open ocean, hundreds of miles from anywhere, and do it in the dark—then you've got something completely different. It gives you a whole new respect for mother nature. And what a mother she can be.

Sailing a boat in the dark through heavy weather is a surreal experience. There is no light outside the boat so it's impossible to see the waves coming or where the boat is going; the compass is your only sense of direction. In these conditions, the job of the person at the helm is:

1. Do not let go of the wheel.
2. Keep the bearing line on the spinning and tilting compass wheel lined up with a mark on the compass housing.

So there I was, braced against the heaving of the boat, the wind and spray, throwing the steering wheel--often violently--one way and then the other, all to keep two little lines on a compass lined up. It's the most bizzare feeling to be focusing on such an abstract task when the world is crashing around you. It's like flying in a jet while it's pitching and bucking its way through a storm and the flight attendant hands you a spoon and says, "Balance this on your finger. Don't drop it. This plane will spin out of control if you do, so don't f*** up. Would you like some coffee?"

-Jared

Sea Lights

Here's a post from my notebook that's just now getting into the blog:

Something I read about in Kon Tiki but didn't really expect to see so much of is the phosphorescence in the water. It was in the boat's wake all through the trip--we had stars above us and little twinkling lights below us. The boat churns up the water, leaving a trail of blue-

green underwater fireflies behind. Even more interesting are the large patches of phosphorescence that bloom and fade all around the boat now that we've started turning on the white strobe light on the masthead during the night. It looks like the phosphorescent things in the water, whatever they are, respond to the light as well as being tumbled about. Anyway, all the glowing activity makes sailing at night a lot more interesting than I expected, especially on these moonless nights.

Tuna II

Gavin described catching the second tuna on the way to California. They're interesting fish, as well as being delicious. My guess was that they were Bluefin, but once we got into Wikipedia range, it turned out that they were actually Bigeye tuna, better known to sushi-eaters as ahi. We ate a lot of it along the way. It doesn't take much preparation, just cut the raw fish into bite-size pieces, pour some soy over it, and add a few dabs of wasabi.

They're built quite a bit differently than salmon and trout with long, wing-like fins and bodies that taper sharply at the tail. I've heard that their shape is ideal for fast, long-distance swimming--the fish's equivalent of a marathoner's build. As with sails and airfoils, long, high-aspect fins are the most efficient. Salmon and trout are built more like sprinters. They have longer bodies, a little more muscular near the tail, and broad fins that get a lot of purchase on the water for bursts of speed. Another interesting thing about the tuna is that they don't have a spinal artery like most fish. Instead, they have a dark red section of very vascular muscle surrounding the spine. This kind of muscle is loaded with myoglobin, an oxygen-binding molecule that lets the muscles carry the oxygen they need for sustained exertion.

-Jared

Thinking about re-thinking plastic

Here is an article from Vice Magazine where journalist took a long, windless boat trip into the center of the Pacific High. The area is like the center of a giant whirlpool where the plastic flotsam collects. All the junk we saw was only along the edge, hundreds of miles from the center.

-Jared

We're back!

We arrived in San Francisco the morning of June 25th, safe and sound.

In the last 27 hours we've been the highest wind and roughest seas that I've ever seen from a boat. It's been quite a ride. I think everyone on board is thankful for this little lull we hit as we approached the Gate.

The bay seems different now—smaller, like a bathtub. Ten feet of boatlength makes a big difference in the way a boat feels. Most boats on the bay are in the 25-35 foot range, and things can get pretty wild when the wind picks up, especially the light, racy boats that carry a lot of sail. In contrast, a 10-ton, 43-footer like No Ka Oi feels solid as a rock in the Bay. It seems like it wouldn't be fazed by even the worst Bay weather. But thinking back over the last 72 hours, it's hard to believe how different things were out in the ocean.

Stay tuned for more blog postings now that we're back with our high-bandwidth connections and can upload some photos and video.

-Jared

Wednesday night

Time:  7:30 Hawaiian time (boat is still working Hawaiian time.)
Position:  37.959
        -124.505
Wind:  20 - 30 knots over the last few hours
      340 degrees true

I made spaghetti and just before we were to eat the wind picked up to 30 knots so we went out and put in a triple reef since it was getting dark.  The wind dropped but we are still doing 6.5 - 7.5 knots over the ground.
Then we went back and ate.
We should get to the north Farallons just after sunrise Thursday.
      

 - Phil

Nearing the end...

During the last two days we have had winds up to 30 knots. The waves were about 15 feet, steep, and crashing. We were on a 90 jib and a triple reef on the main. The more we reefed the more stable we were without losing much speed. The dodger took on quite a bit of spray. And, splashes consistently doused the cockpit making it very wet and windy journey.

The day started in a more benign way today the reefs were shaken and we replaced the 90 with a 130 jib. Everyone was feeling relaxed and then suddenly, as I was writing this post, winds sped up to 30 knots. We are reefed again and the jib is at 110. The waves are pretty normal. And the crescent moon, looks like a transparent disc on the shoulders of superman like silver shoulders. Quite interesting.

We hope to see land from near the Farallons in the morning. And, a few hours later, we will get through the gate to the Marina for showers and to give the boat a basic cleaning. It will be my first time from under the gate in any direction.

Next time I write will be from a dry comfy bed with a hot cup of cocoa and a comforter. Until then......

-Gautam
gautam patil

Wednesday am update

Time:  7:30 AM Hawaiian time
Position: 38.203
       -125.848
Wind: 22-27 True
Sea: 6-8 foot confused with white caps, but gentle compared to 24 hours ago.

The wind and sea have calmed since the peak, but are still strong. The sea and wind always looks and feels calmer as the wind decreases, so it seems calm now. The same conditions as the wind is building always seems more intense.  Everyone is relaxing, getting ready for arrival. Gautam made breakfast burritos with curry. Jared and Mai are sleeping.
Last night I watched the Milky Way stretch from one horizon to the other. Venus, Mars and Jupiter were shining brightly too, although Mars is not that bright. I know that will be the last night to see the sky like that for a while.
The water now is very much the Gulf of the Farallons and not the water we left in Ko Olina Oahu.  The plastic floatsome is gone.  We don't stop for swim parties or hide under the bimini for relief from the sun.  After the last 48 hours of strong wind and bouncy seas the boat is a bit of a mess below, but No Ka Oi did very well.  The water maker saved us and allowed us to shower. Five guys on a boat without showers would not have been as much fun.  All systems continue to work, although the head and galley need some "adjustments".  Tonight we will go past the Farallons, under the gate and home.  I will miss the sailing, the sushi, the skys, the different waters, the guys, the conversations, and this trip.
     

- Phil

Tuesday evening update

Position: 38.418
        -127.839
Wind: 25-28 knots true
     340 degrees true
Waves: 12 foot, confused, white caps

The weather is just starting to get better. We had 30+ knot winds with 15+ breaking waves earlier today.  We put in the third reef at noon today and still continue at 7.5 knots over the ground. We are fighting a current so our boat speed is 8+.  Tonight the wind should very slowly drop to 23-26 by morning and the waves should drop slightly also.
Everyone is fine but somewhat tired. Most everyone brought Hawaii style sailing clothes. We forgot about the last few days outside California. The bow is a fun random weightless generator, allowing random free falls into the sail bags.
Jared is making a meatloaf now.      

- Phil

Monday Update #2

After dinner but before dark we put in a second reef on the main.
So now we have a small jib and a deeply reefed main and we are still
averaging 7.4 knots into the wind.
The boat is much more comfortable with the smaller sails.
We should pass the NOAA weather buoy tonight before dawn.
I wanted a picture.

-Phil

Monday update

Time: 6:00 pm Hawaiian time
Position: 38.187
-131.074
Wind: 20-25 knots true
350 degrees true
Sea: Rough, choppy, white caps.
Waves are about 6-8 foot

Today we changed the 150 to the 130, then reefed the 130 and the main and then changed to the 90.
We are still doing over 7.5 knots while close hauled.

It is colder. This is SF weather, not Hawaii weather. Everyone is putting on warm clothes now.
It looks like we will be approaching the GG area Tuesday evening, passing through the Gulf of the Farallons during the night and arriving at Brisbane very early in the morning Wednesday, subject to wind change and other variables. :)
I guess that means I will be up all night Tuesday making sure we have a safe passage through the shipping lanes and Farallons. Too bad it couldn't have been during the day.
We still have lots of fresh food, water, fuel and everything is still working.

-Phil

Update

The past couple of days have been marked with increasing wind and seas. Yesterday the wind was in the lower range of the 15-20 knot range and today at the higher end. The seas are about 6 to 8 feet. Phil informs us that we are riding between two weather systems and that it might get to 25-30 knots tomorrow night. We have put on the 90 jib and are ready, and excited about it. The waves are going bananas and causing a bit of queasiness. I managed to spill some hot water giving a whole new meaning to the expression "hot legs." (It's healing).

The weather prediction is that we will enter the Bay Area on an ebb tide making it very comfortable to navigate its traffic.

As we enter this final stretch, I think I miss this trip already.

-Gautam
gautam patil

Sunday afternoon update

Position:  38.183
        -132.510
Wind  10 knots true
     10 degrees true
Sea: Gentle 4 foot swells

We have been "tuning" the Code 0 sail and it has been called the "magic" sail by some.  It will move us at 6.5 - 7.5 knots with 10 - 12 knots of wind.  We can sail at 4 knots with 8 knots of wind and at 3.5 knots with 6-7 knots of wind, as long as it is from the right direction.  Fortunately, it has been from the right direction most of the time the last 2-3 days. It really has helped us a lot with this trip.  Relatively constant wind with flat seas has allowed us to play with the different sails to get the very most out of each.
The wind is still light but over the next two days it will build to about 25-30 knots and the waves will increase to 12-15 feet before we enter the Gulf of the Farallons.  We won't use the code 0 then, but it sure has been helpful on this trip.

Today while cooking the AIS alarm went off. We talked with the radio operator of the container ship.  It was day time so we got within 2 miles of the ship and took pictures as it went by.

We will try to pass close to NOAA Environmental Buoy 46059 which is 350 miles west of San Francisco.  I want to take a picture of it.  I hope we pass during the daylight, then it is straight home to SF.  

-Phil

Eastward home

We are now headed straight east toward the Golden Gate and home. Yesterday during a calm spell, we transferred the six jerry cans of diesel that were strapped on deck to the main tank. That brings us up to nearly full with about 700 miles yet to go. Given our rate of fuel use so far it seems like a lot, but perceptions change quickly when we hit a windless patch. The fuel we have is enough for about 250 miles of motoring, about one-third of the way. I expect it will be fine, but there is always that nagging doubt, because you just never know if the wind will disappear. Each hour we spend sailing gets us that much closer to our destination, giving us a little more confidence that the fuel we have will be enough to get us there in case the wind dies.

-Jared

Re-thinking plastic

The first few days out of Oahu, once we lost sight of land, it was just pure, uninterrupted water. In fact the first piece of flotsam we saw was enough of a novelty to stop the boat to investigate. It was nothing much, just a large light bulb and a piece of floating plastic that had been floating so long it had cultivated its own ecosystem of marine life. Since then, the flotsam has become more and more frequent. It's rare now, even out here in the middle of nowhere, that we go for more than an hour without passing within sight of some floating piece of debris, nearly all of it plastic. The stuff floats, apparently forever: milk crates, bottles, fishing floats, all sorts of junk--and takes an eternity to break down. It's disturbing.

-Jared

Entry for 6/16

We've talked about the things we miss while on the boat--ice cream, more than five hours of continuous sleep, greasy burritos, etc.--but there are things I'll miss about life aboard too.  There are the obvious things like the tuna sashimi, great weather, and sailing all day, but also some things I didn't expect: going barefoot, for example.  For most of the trip, it's been warm enough to go without shoes all the time, even at night.  Nearly everything on the boat is barefoot-friendly and going without shoes makes for a simple life.  Not having to put on or take off shoes several times a day means a simpler daily routine.

Being barefoot all the time and the necessary habit of grabbing any available handhold as you move about the boat makes me feel like a monkey.  It's fun once you get the hang of it.

   -Jared

A late blog from Mai Luo: From 21 to 38, what has changed, and what has not?

Hawaii is on latitude of 21 while San Francisco is on 38.

Since June 8th we kicked off from Oahu Ha, we had been heading north to avoid the pacific high until we hit the line of latitude of 38. From this point, we turned to the right and headed east to San Francisco. We had covered 1500 miles, roughly. Some things have changed, while some have not.

What has changed?

1. The sea depth varied from 500 feet to 18,000 feet.
2. The sea temperature dropped from 74 F to 57 F. We were so lucky to swim on June 13 before it got too cold- a joyful experience to swim in the middle of Pacific ocean.
3. Sea color turned to dark blue from Turquoise. Oh, Hawaii water!
4. We had seen more travelors since then, from package ropes, a light bulb, to lots of plastic buckets. Unbelievably, I even spotted one buoy with a 6-foot antenna. What is it? A weather station? How busy the ocean is!!
5. We hooked 4 fish but caught three only, one Dorado and two tuna. We ate our visitors in four ways: sushi, grill, pan seared, and fish soup. Yummy!
6. We changed from starboard tack to port tack.
7. The fever of sailing seemed to fade while desire to get home early was growing like weed in me.

However, there are somethings that never changed.

1. The ocean is still there.
2. The star is up every night, guiding people from those on Mayflower to those on No Ka oi for hundreds of years.
3. The adventurous spirit is still in the air, inspiring countless people to find either a new world or a new inner self. It will be there forever.

Mai Luo from
N 38. 16. 984
W 135. 08. 587( Pacific ocean)
8:41am June 21st( Pacific time)

Dinner

What a great dinner.
Fresh sushi followed by tuna cooked in sesame oil with ginger, mushrooms and soy sauce. Gavin continues to win the cook offs. We all enjoy his skills!
Everyone is saying they don't want the enjoyment of the voyage to end...

-Phil

Saturday update

Time: 3:00 PM Hawaiian time
Position: 38.23    (38 degrees 13.618 minutes)
       -137.63   (137 degrees 37.450 minutes)
Wind:  8-12 knots true
      320 degrees true (slowly moving aft during last few days)
Sea: Gentle, 4 foot swell, no white caps

A few days ago,  I saw a huge rope floating passed us on the left about 20 feet from the boat.  Yesterday as we were putting up the spinnaker and the motor was already off I saw a net pass within 5 feet of the boat on the right side.  Last night while motoring to maintain speed in 8 knots of wind we fouled our prop.  The worst thing to me is hitting things, especially with the engine running.  I prefer going a little more slowly than running the engine at night.  It was a tense 10 hours while we waited until it warmed enough to venture into the water, but Jared did and all is resolved.  He earned the right to opt out of all cleaning duties and sleep during night watches if he wants.
I heated the house water for hot showers so everyone that went into the water could have a hot shower.  It was fun after the fact.  Thinking all night about going into the water and wondering what we would find was not so fun.

Later this morning we spotted what looked like a grey metal suit case floating in the water. From a distance it looked like it could contain something valuable.  We circled only to find a grey plastic jug with dozens of mussel type bi-valves and crabs living on it.  There is a lot of junk floating around.

Right now we are doing about 7 knots in 11-12 knots of wind with the code 0 sail up!  What is nice about sailing here is that you can take your time to trim the sail, experiment and learn how to use the sail while going in a straight line with fairly constant wind.  You don't need to tack every 10 minutes like on the bay.  There were several times I wondered if it was worth getting the code 0, but I have used that sail more on this trip than ever before.  The wind in San Francisco is hardly ever light enough to use it.  Today the ocean is fairly flat.  The wind is oscillating between 8 and 12 knots and our experimenting got us going 5.75 - 7.1 knots through the water.  We also have an additional 1/2 knot of current.  Our apparent wind is 40-45 degrees ahead of true wind.  It is fast and pleasant sailing this late afternoon in a light breeze!  The code 0 and the large 150 have been used more on this trip than ever before.  We have also used the large light spinnaker that we used 10 of the 12 days going to Hawaii.  Very different than sailing in the SF area.

It is getting cooler only Gautam has bare feet at night now.  People are putting on fleece and jackets too.  The dark nights are beautiful even if they are a little cooler, but it is not cold yet.

-Phil

Update

I walked over to see Gavin writing his blog post and it seemed to pretty much contain anything I would want to say and more. It was a fabulous swim about 725 nautical miles west of San Francisco. The water was crystal clear, 60 degrees, and beat the water in Aquatic park where I once trained for the Alcatraz swim. It seemed to be less buoyant.

Yesterday, we caught another blue fin tuna. So that 'bait lost vs fish caught' score is about even. At first when the propeller blades came into question, it seemed like it was simply revenge of the blue fin.

Some details that I may have forgotten to pencil in when setting up the blog:

What does No Ka Oi mean?
It means "the best". It is also the slogan for the island of Maui.

What sails does she have?
She was spruced up for the Pac Cup last year. She has 11 in all: 2 mains, 3 spinnakers, 2 storm jibs, and 4 jibs (75, 130, 150 & the code zero). As an example, 100 means a jib that extends to the mast, so a 130 is bigger and extends 30% past it.

-Gautam
gautam patil

Blog post from Gavin

Gautam and I were on the late watch again last night, 10pm to 2am.  We had about 24 hours of great wind and great progress, but it had left us, and all day today the wind was maddeningly light again.  We'd been sailing, but slowly.  Finally when the shift changed the wind was light enough that it was easy to decide to motor for a while.  So with batteries charging, autopilot and radar readily available, Gautam and I were passing time on watch without a whole lot to do.  After about half an hour we had the incident -- the engine, which had been humming along steadily, dropped in tone about an octave and started running rough.  Well, one of Phil's standing rules is that if anything out of the ordinary happens with the engine, we should wake him immediately which we did.  I can imagine that's one of the more unpleasant pieces of news to wake up to, and we were loathe to be the bearers of it.  So we kill the engine, and Phil tears apart the quarter berths which give access to the engine and starts the diagnoses process-a little midnight engine maintenance.  Just another fact of life on the water.  We operate 24 hours a day, and problems can occur any time, it's just one of those things that can happen any time and they need to be looked at, even if it's a time when most sane people would be asleep.  After more than an hour of this, he concludes we must have picked up something around the propeller blades.  It's always a risk when motoring.  The ocean is full of trash, and we pass it constantly.  Some things like floating ropes, fishing lines or pieces of kelp can easily get caught up in the propeller, causing all sorts of problems.  It seems our luck at avoiding all the flotsam and jetsam of the sea had run out.  The only way to resolve it would be to have someone dive under the boat, but that would have to wait until daylight.  The only catch with that is we're far from the  bathtub-warm, sapphire blue tropical waters we once joyfully dove into.  We're at around the same latitude as San Francisco now, with all the ocean warmth you'd expect from our belovedly frosty coastline.  Volunteers are going to be hard to find.

Thankfully, the wind had picked up to the point we could finish the shift sailing, and make decent progress out of it as well.  Another note is that night the sky was brilliantly clear; the moon doesn't rise until early the next morning, so we were left without interrupting lights.  While steering the boat by hand during the engine troubleshooting process, I had some amazing views of the starry night sky and I saw some amazing shooting stars.

Now the big secret that I tell everyone is that shooting stars are not all that uncommon.  In fact if you pick any reasonably dark spot not far from city lights, on any average night, and watch the sky you're bound to see a few.  On average, I normally see one every 15 minutes or so, and that's only watching a small-ish part of the sky.  I live to watch shooting stars and I make it a point to take a bit of time to spot some often.  However, I saw four that night I would call whoppers; they where some of the best and brightest I've ever seen, so that's saying a lot.  Two in particular were amazing:  one that traced a line like an ink pen, and the entire trail stayed lit for a brief moment before winking out all at once. I'd never seen one quite like that before; the other streaked across a long section of sky, and ended with a bright flash, almost like a firework.

The next morning was spent trying to convince each other to be the one to dive for the prop.  After much, ahem, good natured and confidence inspiring encouragement, Jared finally proved to be the bravest of the lot and volunteered; Gautam prepared as his backup.  He plunged into the fridgid water, and reported it as being "not bad" though I could tell that was an optimistic report at best.  Interestingly enough, somewhere in the hour and a half it took Phil and Jared to confirm, in the engine compartment, that there was a problem, and the time Jared dove down and checked, it must had freed itself, since he reported nothing out of the ordinary.  Checking again from above confirmed that it seemed to be operating nominally now.

With the relief of that problem out of the way, now it was time to have some fun. Gautam decides he's not going to let Jared have all the fun, and with harness and line attached does a nice swan dive off the back of the boat.  This throws down the gauntlet to Phil, who wanting nothing to do with going in the water. He is razzed until he goes in, too. He, of course, is very, um, vocal in his appreciation to Gautam about being put in this bind.  With almost everyone jumping in, the buck then passes to me.  I really, really didn't want to go jumping in. I can do plenty of that kind of thing in the bay if so inclined, or better yet wait until November and then hose myself off at night or something, either of those would accurately produce the pleasure of diving in that water -- which, I finally did.  Actually, it wasn't terrible. In fact, it was a whole lot of fun.  You see I don't think anyone chooses to go on a trip like this who is overly concerned about comfort.  Given that in a long ocean crossing, it's easy to get caught up in the routine of running the boat -- sailing, cleaning, cooking, eating, trying to catch sleep in the moments that remain -- it's important to take time and break up the routine. So we'll give up lots of comfort just for fun.  It ended up being great entertainment for the morning, and we're back on our way, getting a little closer to home each day.

Pun intended

Today:
The forward berth was supposed to remain empty because it can be very bouncy in there; however, I have become accustomed to sleeping there (so far) and it feels as if the pacific ocean is a giant water bed. Mai and Phil got a kick out of that analogy. If you tried it, you would agree.

This morning the water temperature was down to 58 degrees and, with the fog and clouds, it felt like I was back in San Francisco. There is something very comforting about SF Weather.

Yesterday:
Having crossed the half-way point, Mai, Jared, and I got talking about what we had learned so far. The main take-aways were that, this trip has really broadened our horizons and opened up a whole realm of possibilities. The second insight was that it affects how we relate to nature.

Keeping this quick. Need some zzz's before I get back on at 10 pm.

-Gautam
gautam patil

Laundry day

After a couple of attempts, we've refined the process a bit, doing laundry on a boat isn't quite the same as on land. There are no washing machines (well, nautical versions do exist, but take way too much space for No Ka Oi.)  Take a collapsible bucket, with a line attached (everything you don't want to lose needs to be tied down, there are little strings, sail ties, tethers and convenient places to latch things down everywhere)  Fill the bucket with sea water and detergent, then give the clothes a good washing.  Now to rinse, you can go down to the swim step -- the lowest point off the back of the boat, it's just above water level.  Like everything you don't want to lose, you must have a tether attached to yourself.  Then grab a piece of clothing, hold on to one end, and simply plunge it into the ocean.  Let it drag through the water, twisting and writhing like a flickering flame in the eddying wake of the boat.  Look down,  the water is darker and much colder now, but still has that amzing look of deep blue infinity. The depth is unfathomable, the way it fades slowly into nothingness is captivating.  A small lens cleaning cloth I stuck in the bucket falls out into the water as I pull another piece out.  I wondered if that would happen, and when it does there's no lunge to retrieve it just a slight sigh as it slips away over the waves.  It's gone, but such small mishaps must be taken in stride.  So next is to improvise a clothes line, string them up on a sail tie or lifeline, and let them dry in the wind.  Daily routine is a little different here, and it's intriguing the way that our situation makes even mundane tasks more difficult, there's a sense of triumph even in doing laundry.  You just do it on a tether here.

-Gavin

Friday June 19 update

Time:  6:30 PM Hawaiian time  Friday June 19
Position:  38.161  (38 degrees 9.69 minutes)
        -139.730 (139 degrees 43.75 minutes)
Wind: 12 knots true
     10 degrees true
Waves: 2-3 foot swell with no white caps

Last night we had strong wind and reefed the main about 9 PM.  We sailed that way until about 2:30 PM when we took out the reef.

This morning I made two breakfasts, one low cholesterol and one high cholesterol. The low cholesterol was tea. The high cholesterol was bacon, beef hash, fried potatoes and eggs.  The entire crew went for the high cholesterol menu.

We caught another blue fin tuna just about 20 minutes before Gavin served spaghetti.  Jared cut the fish into fillets for tomorrow.

Hopefully the wind will pick back up as the sun sets. There will be fresh baked white chip macadamia nut cookies for evening snacks.

 - Phil

Position update

Thursday June 18
Time: 3:00 PM
Hawaiian timePosition: 37.942 N
-142.962 W
Wind: 14 - 15 knots True
140 degrees True

We believe because Gautam prayed for forgiveness to the Tuna God and we all prayed to the wind God, after motoring north 2 nights and one day we found wind. It came rather sudden. We had the light air spinnaker up for a while and the wind swung around so we took the spinnaker down and put up the large (150) jib. We are sailing close to the wind now keeping up speed and our northerly direction. Our course is about 70 degrees true. Not as far north as we want but we are sailing! The boat water is much cooler, about 62 degrees, the sky is cloudy with occasional sprinkles, and the temperature is in the 70's.

- Phil

Wednesday evening update

Blue fin tuna sushi, tuna steaks, white wine, carrot salad, potatoes and a beautiful sunset. This was our half-way party. About 5 am Gavin brought in a beautiful blue fin tuna which made the best sushi. Jane and Gayle, thank you so much for putting wasabi and nori on board! Great for the tuna!  Everyone loved it.

So today did not have much wind again so we motored last night and most of today. We put up a spinnaker today for about 2 hours when the wind picked up to 14 knots but it calmed to 8 knots after about 2 hours.  We are trying to get north in hope of finding wind.
We saw a buoy with a 6 foot antenna in the evening but there were no makings on it.
We still see plastic often every day floating along. Buckets and plastic bottles are the most common occurrences.
Everything is going well.  We just want some wind!

The tuna was so good we decided to try to catch another tomorrow.  It seems we have the right equipment now.

Looking forward to wind soon!      

 - Phil

Blog post from Gavin

Sometime a good meal makes everything better

For the past couple days the wind has been depressingly light.  Too light to sail effectively, so we've been motoring a lot lately.  It's boring, loud and the diesel exhaust is not an accompaniment I'd choose for our daily activities.  Today especially, we put up the spinnaker in anticipation of building wind, but the breeze died almost completely when we got the sail up.  Two hours later we were swimming in a mess of lines in the cockpit.  Defeated by both the lack of wind and the hot sun.  I was seriously feeling like home was impossibly far away, as our schedule slipped by days.  Sunburnt, tired and unhappy was not how I wanted to spend the rest of this voyage.  However, while serendipity can't solve all problems, it has a way of giving just enough encouragement when it's needed most.  This evening we celebrated our half-way point, having passed the mark sometime last night.  Yesterday I'd never thought that we'd have fresh sashimi for the occasion.  Gautam and I had the early morning shift, and most of it was spent trying to pass the time as we motored through the night.  At 4:30 am, as dawn was just lighting the sky once again, I dropped the fishing line behind us.  I didn't expect much, but it was at least something to do.  Less than 15 minutes later the tell-tale whizzzz of line feeding out heralded that we had a strike.  We throttled back to slow a bit, and I began to play the line.  The fish fought like a devil, but inexorably he was reeled in, Gautam and I wrestled it aboard, and just then, Jared, our resident professional fisherman climbed out of the boat.  His timing was perfect, and he kindly dispatched and cleaned our catch.  It was a tuna, a blue-fin we think, and it was exactly what we'd been hoping for.  I'd always wanted to try sashimi from a fresh-caught tuna like that, and it was better than I'd hoped.  From a previous trip, the boat was already stocked with soy sauce, wasabi paste, and nori in hopes of fish that weren't caught before.  I owe whoever stocked those items my deepest gratitude, because they were absolutely perfect.  I might be the world's worst sushi chef, but it didn't matter -- the fish, however you cut it, was sublime. I don't think anything could have made me happier than to have the proper ingredients on hand.  The rest, was cut into steaks and seared on the barbecue.  Fresh carrot salad, corn and mashed potatoes, then the luxury of all luxuries: chilled chardonay.  Everyone was in high spirits for the occasion, we talked and laughed and relaxed in general contentment. A meal like that can salvage even the worst day.  So while not everything is amazing all the time out here, there's enough of a balance.  You've got to learn to take the not-so-good in stride, and really savor the wonderful moments.
-------------------------------------------------

June 17th

This morning started with screeching sound of the fishing line. It was about 5:30 am and the sky was bright. Gavin and I were on the 2-6 am watch. (The best time to be on watch). I had just finished taking a bunch of pictures with the backstay and shrouds bisecting a colorful sky. Then nature offered up a blue fin tuna. The score is now 2 for 3 with 1 draw. That is, 3 bait taken by fish, 2 fish caught, and one long nylon rope caught (that has to be a draw!). It was beautiful - about 2 foot long with gorgeous pectoral fins. A bloody affair followed. And, then Gavin, Jared, and I talked for a little while, seemingly reconciling with what had just transpired. Being mostly vegetarian, it was quite an event for me. Perhaps, Gibran says it best in his book, The Prophet: 'That we will be consumed by life some day as we consume life now'. The reality was so violent and yet so human and very far from simply shopping the seafood section at a grocery store.

About speeds and ETA's. For sometime now, we anticipated picking up speed and bumping up the average much like a commodity market in contango where the futures are higher than the spot prices. Now, it is as if the trend has reversed, backwardation. The new ETA is possibly Thursday of next week.

There was one vessel sighting around dinner this evening. A small boat in the distance. Since large vessel sightings happen on our watch, Gavin, Phil and I are contemplating staying below for the rest of the trip. And, so we hope to have no more sightings to report!

Aboard the boat, the half-way party was very upbeat. Good wine, tuna, carrot salad, corn, and mashed potatoes. I will leave it to others to write more about that. Now off for a little nap before I have to get back up for the 10 pm shift.

Gautam

Tuesday evening: Half way tonight

Time: 6:30 PM Hawaiian time
Position:  35.2438   (35 degrees  14.63 minutes )
        -146.524    (146 degrees 31.411 minutes)
Wind 10 knots
Direction 220 True
Seas: no white caps but a fast swell, sometimes 6-8 feet, mostly 4 feet

Because we are not traveling a straight line we have traveled more than half of the distance we will travel, but early tomorrow morning we will reach a point that is equal distance between San Francisco and Hawaii.  Tomorrow morning we will celebrate our half way party.

Not much wind today. We sailed at about 5 knots in 12-13 knots of wind today until 5 PM when we took down the spinnaker and turned on the motor.  We are motoring north to try to get out of the rapidly expanding high pressure which is going north too.  I anticipate motoring during the night but hopefully there will be wind tomorrow.    

- Phil

Update

Last night on the 10 pm shift, the stars were unusually clear and Gavin and Phil engaged in their-by now usual- animated discussion of the milky way, constellations, planets, and even life in outer space! Around 11:30, the moon came up and slowly, like a giant eraser, removed most of the night stars proving that the milky way was not just another set of clouds. Phil got up and contemplated a much needed nap when out to port he saw a couple of lights on the horizon. We were alert and trying to figure out what it was. The lights seem to get clearer, faster compared to the other night when the Cosco Fukuyama came nearby. When the vessel was 8 nautical miles away, the AIS details came up. We were in its path! The GL Primera, a 185 m (600+ feet) heading to Panama had decided to visit. There were three options from riskiest to safest, to keep going, to make radio contact, or to simply turn around. So we doused the spinnaker and took a U turn. After it passed, and we always maintained a couple miles, we were safely back on our way. Safety remains our top priority.

The winds have died down a bit and speeds are back to a slower pace. We are confident about making it back to SF in time but the half-way mark seems far off right now.

-Gautam

In other news, the past 24 hours have really been about the brownies Phil baked last night. And, all day long, coming in and out of shifts, everyone was gorging on brownies. At one point, there were brownie tracks all over the cockpit which had to get washed out. In fact, by the time dinner came around, no one wanted any dessert. Enough! Bastante!

We tacked...

Since leaving Hawaii we've been on the same tack for a week.  We weren't supposed to tack yet for 2 more days, but Tuesday morning about 1:00 a big honkin' container ship breached our area of solitude.
It's funny how you can be nearly 1000 miles from land, from just about *anything*, yet manage to be on a course that
takes you right near another ship like this.  Gautam and I were on watch at 1 am, and Phil was on deck with us.
He spotted the lights, and of course when that happens our first priority is to figure out where it's headed.
Between radar and AIS it showed that we would be passing very close or should I say way too close.  As with the earlier ship we encountered. We had visual and radar contact with them before we had the AIS information, thus we knew they were there but we did not yet know their name.  Since they're often oblivious to the presence of smaller boats we decided to alter course instead of calling them. That involved wrestling the spinnaker down so we could cross behind them.
All I could think of was "the nerve of them!"  To blunder into our path, and not even seem to notice us.
It was a big relief to watch their stern light shrink into the night. This was good preparation for the possibility of more to come.

-Gavin

Monday eveing postion update

June 15  6:20 PM Hawaiian time
  33 degrees  52.055 minutes
 148 degrees  51.269 minutes
Speed over ground:  6.0 - 7.5 knots
True wind:  14 knots
          220 degrees true
Swell: 3-4 foot
Waves: very small white caps

Sun will set soon.  Stewed chicken with peas, seasoned rice, hot fudge brownies.

-Phil

Trash talk

June 15:
After everyone got their sea legs and until the day before yesterday it seemed pretty easy, like we were on a boat in a studio pond, with fans for wind, and a team getting tanned, wined and dined. The reality came from the 24 hour watch with erratic sleep schedules and real strong heat during the day. Then, the day before, we put the bimini up. (Oh ya, racers, a bimini is quite alright on a delivery). All of sudden, there was shade in the cockpit, and no more heat exhaustion. Then, the kite went up (spinnaker) and we picked up the pace from 6 to 8. That night, we put the kite down for safety.

Yesterday, as soon as I was up, we were on the foredeck putting up the kite again. It has been that way ever since. Flying the kite and surfing big waves has made everyone much more attentive and it is also that much more fun. The regular watches are now broken down into 30 minute turns to steer the boat as it surfs the waves and gets pulled by the kite. We are flying with speeds on the water as high as 11.3 knots. With apologies to El Erian, 8 knots (avg) is the "new normal".

June 14:
This morning I was on the 2 - 6 am shift. The sunrise was spectacular and I wandered around the foredeck exploring how sheets, guys, mast, and lines see the white caps, clouds, and colors of the sky. I must have taken a couple hundred photographs and at least 7 or 8 really good ones.  At one point I saw an unusual object in a photo, near my feet lay a flying fish that had flown onto the deck at night and couldn't get off. It made me wonder who was in whose territory.

June 13:
Now onto to some trash talk. For several days until yesterday we saw some plastic debris in the water almost every mile. Buckets, bottles, balls, and bags and a wide assortment of non-descript crap. It is unbelievable. Imagine if WE can see that much debris from this boat, how much of it really exists in the ocean. Jared was reminded of a PBS special where a cameraman went into the Pacific High, a large area of water with no wind, and found a large pile of garbage, tons and tons of it. I just don't get it. More pleasant stuff tomorrow....

-Gautam

It's different now...

Besides the obvious change of sailing downwind (due mostly to changes in wind direction, since we're still sailing mostly in the same direction) there are other subtle hints: the water is noticeably colder, and steadily dropping, the waves are building behind us, the sun isn't nearly as intense (evidenced mostly by a more sparing consumption of sun block)  Our days of barbecue evenings and warm tropical nights are coming to a close.

In it's place is a new kind of excitement; the anticipation of nearing home.  Being out here for a whole week really changes your perspective.  The terrestrial world sometimes seems like a distant memory and this watery island of constant motion and constant vigil is the only life possible.

Last night we had perfect stargazing conditions.  The moon rose late, the clouds kept their distance so that we had an unfettered view of the night sky.  The constellations burned above -- Scorpio, and Leo were some of the most impressive in the southern sky; Draco and the corona Borealis opposed them to the north. We saw lots of planets: Saturn in the evening, then Venus and Mars side by side preceded an amazingly luminous sunrise.

During the night the wind and waves chased us, and we absolutely flew.  It was exhilarating -- a herald of more to come.

Dust bunnies

We're sailing speedily along under a rastafari-colored spinnaker which makes the mood a little more festive. That, and the weather has been beautiful. There has been so much sun that we put up the bimini for shade. The bimini makes being in the cockpit much nicer and I no longer feel like hiding out below when off-watch to get away from the sun.

The boat is showing evidence of the long trip. The cockpit cushions are smeared with sunscreen, little marine dust bunnies of hair and lint have collected in the corners of the cockpit, and the grab rails have the slightly tacky/slimy feeling of handrails on the New York subway.

There are a few luxuries on the boat--luxuries, at least by sailboat standards: refrigeration, a watermaker, and email via shortwave radio. Still, because of their high power consumption, they must be used sparingly. Showers are taken only when necessary ("necessary" has its own standard here too) and consist of pouring about a gallon of water over your head while sitting on the toilet. Still, it's a welcome treat considering the alternative. The freezer is great because we can keep frozen meats through the entire trip, however it too must be used carefully. It's small and we open it as little as possible in order to keep the cold in. Every so often we indulge by using it to chill a beer or water bottle.

Yesterday we caught a small dorado, maybe seven pounds. It was the perfect size for the five of us and made for a festive dinner with a battle of white wine and mashed potatoes. We haven't fished much lately since slowing the boat to land a fish is quite a hassle with the spinnaker up.








Captain Phil is re-working our arrival estimates, trying to shave time off the original estimates by shaving distance off our L-shaped route and increasing our predicted speed based on the latest wind forecast. We make five knots under motor, a knot and a half less than his predicted average speed, but we should be able to keep close to his estimates as long as we have wind. We're doing well so far--the boat sails better than it motors and the rasta-spinnaker is pulling us along at a brisk 7.5 knots.


-Jared

Monday afternoon June 15

Time: 11:30 am Hawaiian time
Position:   33.458 N   (33 degrees 17.546 minutes)
         -149.575 W   (149 degrees 34.450 minutes)
Wind: 15 knots True
     210 degrees True
Sea: 4 foot swells, small white caps
Boat speed:  7.0 - 8.5 knots

We have had the spinnaker up all night and morning. We are sailing
along very well.  Last night the wind was a bit stronger so we hit
11.1 knots at one point and were in the 9's a lot.  We will probably
turn east towards California late tomorrow or very early Wednesday.
Despite a slow start with light winds, swim stops and other diversions.
We are still making very good progress, having motored only two nights.

It is a beautiful day.  Gavin is making homemade chili and I am
making fresh corn bread.

Last night we saw Saturn, Jupiter, Mars, and Venus.  Mars and Venus are
next to each other, about 1.5 inches apart as measured at arm's length.
The moon rose about midnight and lit up the spinnaker quite nicely.
Too bad we could not take a picture of it.

 - Phil

Entry for June 15

Yesterday evening we decided to leave the spinnaker up through the night. The big sail carries us at good speed downwind, but it does come with some risk. With just the main and jib, the boat can recover from any problem--it just turns itself into the wind and spills the wind out of the sails. The spinnaker is less forgiving. If something goes wrong with the spinnaker in heavy weather, it can hold the boat down on its side until the crew takes some action. It also uses quite a bit more rigging--six more lines running into the cockpit and a pair of struts braced against the mast--and more opportunity for things to go wrong. Still, the wind was mild and the forecast was for more of the same, so we flew it through the night.

Everything is scarier at night and flying the spinnaker is no exception. The wind and seas increased slightly--not enough to cause problems, but definitely enough to hold the attention of the on-watch crew. With the bigger swells, the autopilot was not up to the task. Not being able to predict the wave motion, it corrects the course clumsily and sends the boat yawing sideways down the swells. It didn't take much of that before steering by hand seemed like the better option. We hand-steered through the night, making between eight and eleven knots over four- to five-foot breaking seas. It's exciting surfing down a wave face in the dark--you can feel by the boat's bow drop into the wave trough without knowing how far down it will go before the next wave brings it back up.

-Jared

Checking in

Hey, this is Gavin writing:

It's already nearing the halfway point and this will be my first time sitting down to write.  We're making fast progress at a bearing of 35 degrees, and the wind has shifted behind us to the point where we can finally fly the spinnaker. Consequently, we're making some of our fastest progress yet.

I want to say hi to everyone that's following along. It's nice to know people back on land are keeping up with our adventures.  I'm doing very well- happy, healthy and adapted to life out here.

It's amazing how little free time you have between being on watch and all the little maintenance tasks to keep everything running smoothly. Some of the most mundane tasks take much longer: cooking, cleaning, and even changing clothes all acquire new significance, as all of them are done while the boat lifts over waves and into troughs, all while the angle of heel can change unexpectedly.

In the first part of the trip, my favorite time was sailing at night.  Everything had a ephemeral, dreamlike quality to it, even when we had strong winds and we were charging over a silver-blue sea with whitecaps illuminated in blazing white.  The wind and the spray were warm, and the sky was full of stars.  Despite the speed, everything felt calm and peaceful -perfect.

Dawn lights the sky like a work of art in shades of orange, purple, red and gray which give way to the dominating tropical sun. The fierce light sends me scurrying to cover up with long sleeved shirts, hats and sunglasses. The rest of the crew is now sporting deep tans and stark tan-lines, yet no SPF is strong enough to protect me, despite swathing myself in it several times a day.

Speaking of days, the concept of a day in the sense of sleep-wake cycles is lost here.  The exigencies of running the ship demand that we sacrifice such luxuries, and give in to days that fade in and out several times in the course of 24 hours.

Calendar days run together like a long and lucid dream.  Our day-night cycles happen several times a day.  We never get more than about 4 hours sleep at a time.  It sounds worse than it is.  Your body adapts quickly to this new pace of life, and any other way seems quaint.  It's altogether pleasant if you let it be.

Sunday afternoon & plastic

Perfect day!
It is warm with about a 14 - 16 knot breeze.
Flying fish are around and we are sailing quite well between 6.5 and 8.4 knots.
The waves are only about 2-3 feet so the motion is very gentle.

Sunday June 14th  2:30 in the afternoon.
Position: 32.0033 degrees north    (32 degrees  0.25 minutes north)
       -151.8655 degrees west     (151 degrees 51.93 minutes west)
True wind: 14 - 16 knots
True wind direction:  200 degrees
Sea: 2-3 foot swell, small white caps

This morning after bacon and eggs we set the light large spinnaker and have been sailing with it since.  Quite a beautiful day. The water is starting to get cooler at around 72 degrees but it is still very blue.  Took some video and everyone took pictures today. We were going to stop and have another swim party but we just kept on sailing.
The water maker filled the large tank yesterday in 3 hours so we can continue to take showers.  :)  Everyone is glad for that.  Tonight we will Bar-B-Que a large London broil steak.  During the calm time the crew is either reading, writing, eating, sleeping or taking pictures.  There is no shortage of interesting conversation with sleep deprived people who like to talk.  We will post the pictures when we return. Fun!
Gautam's image of a 12 mile radius blue circle stays constant. We have seen one ship since we left site of Oahu but we quickly made him leave our circle of a few close friends.

Plastic floats! Too bad because until today we could not go an hour without seeing something made of plastic floating by. Buckets, balls, and other plastic pieces seem to be common.  As we get further north the quantity diminishes.
The scariest thing I saw was yesterday. We were sailing along at about 6 knots. Fortunately we were not motoring.  About 5 feet to our port side a large bundle of hemp floated by. It was 2-3 inches in diameter and maybe 30 feet long. It looked like it was a dock line from a freighter.  Something like that could have disabled the engine or prop if we hit it while motoring. It makes motoring at night worrisome.
But right now it is warm, sunny and we are sailing down wind with a beautiful spinnaker. No worries at the moment.

- Phil

Saturday June 13

On starry nights we look out at the sky for planets and constellations. Sometimes we can identify Jupiter, Saturn, Venus, Saggitarius, and Scorpio. Other times it is too cloudy to spot just about anything. Usually about 11 pm, one can see a spectacular moon rising over the horizon.

Last night was far too cloudy and the sky was starless. The moon struggled to rise. Then around 11:30 pm we saw two tiny lights on the horizon. And you know how we feel when someone encroaches our circle! So, we decided to chase it out.

It was the 850 foot vessel, Cosco Fukuyama, and as AIS would later tell us, it was headed to Qingdao and set to arrive there on 6/27 at 5 am. A little after the lights were spotted, a tadpole size object appeared on the radar screen. The AIS was not yet providing any information and we headed up and out of a potential collision path.

It seems a little funny that objects on the radar are called "target" as if we could ever target a 850 ft vessel. To be honest, I am even a little skeptical that we were on a collision course. However, it was a first sighting since we left Honolulu and an awareness for everyone of things to come. A couple of hours later, Gavin and I spotted another vessel that came on to radar for a few minutes and disappeared. There was no further information we could glean.

It seems now that the sunny days and calm waters will soon be behind us. The crew feels pretty ready to move forward to the adventure ahead......

Gautam

Mai's profile

I love water.

When I was a child, one of my greatest joys was to swim in a small and somewhat dirty pond in my village for hours in the summertime.
Growing up in midwest China, I developed a strong desire for water sports from watching TV. I can vividly remember how badly I wanted to fly on waters as a windsurfer when I was 13.

Sure enough, I got a shot at it when I worked in Shenzhen, a newly-developed coastal city of China. When I started to windsurf, it was still very uncommon and there were no stores that sold equipment such as boards and harnesses. I spent almost every weekend on the beautiful Golden Sand beach. What a gorgeous picture to go wind surfing on the sun-drenched water before sunset.

I started sailing more with CSC after moving to the Bay Area. Since then, I have sailed in the Southern Chinese sea, the San Francisco Bay, and Gulf of Mexico.

Why do I love sailing?

I always like trying something new.
Sailing across an ocean has appealed to me for a long time. I have often wondered: 'Is a sunset on an ocean different from that seen through endless mountain ridges?' Will I be lucky enough to find a note in a bottle or even some floating treasure on crystal blue waters? How gorgeous it must be to look at a starred sky on a quiet night while sailing on such a small sailboat!

Also, ocean sailing is a perfect way to escape normal civilized life and live simply. There are no phone calls or emails, and other traps that one cannot live without, like credit cards and quarters. Just the current, wind, and boat.

That is why I responded right away when Phil called for crew. Phil is not only an experienced sailing veteran, but a sailor who, like me, loves to sail. I look forward to enjoy the journey with him and to learn from him and the other crew members of No Ka Oi.


About crew:
I could not believe my eyes when I saw Gautam's name on the crew list.

He is not only the only person of the crew whom I know, but also a long time friend since we met each other at CSC. His sense of humor and enthusiasm have since delighted me and many people around. It will be such a great chance to meet him and sail with him before I move to Cambridge, MA.

I missed the crew meeting when I was in Texas, but I am looking forward to meeting Jared, Gavin and Phil, our skipper. We will have plenty of time to get to know each other and have fun.

-Mai

Saturday update

Early Afternoon:
Last night the wind was very light so we motored for 12 hours which was the first time we have motored more than one hour.  This morning at 9:00 we put up the large light spinnaker with the pole and spinnaker net.  We have sailed since then in winds from 8 - 14 knots with boat speeds from 5 - 8 knots. It is getting lighter now dropping to 5 knots in the last 10 minutes.

The prediction is for stronger winds beginning tomorrow and continuing for several days.
Arrival is dependent on the wind but should be the 23rd, 24th or 25th.

Late afternoon:
Saturday 4:30 PM Hawaiian time
Position:  30.5035 N   (30°30.211'N)
              -153.5964 W  (153°35.784'W)
True wind: 10 - 11 knots
                190 degrees true
Boat speed, 5.5 - 6.5, occasionally in the 7's today.  Wind speed has not gone above 14 knots.  Today has been a "leisure" sail with light wind, the large spinnaker, Latin music, and food.  We saw something jumping out of the water far from the boat but could not tell if they were whales or something else.
The cloud cover is interesting. In the distance to our right (towards the east) we see very few clouds and a deep blue sky. I assume we are looking at the pacific high.  To our left, towards the east there is a high cloud cover and darker low clouds.  The grib file that I have says a low should be there and will gradually get closer and move to the north.  It seems like we are on the edge between them.  The high cloud cover passed over us about two hours ago but we are still close to the edge.

We will have the spaghetti tonight and fish tomorrow again.      

 - Phil

Two ships passing in the night

Position:  29.5216  (29°31.296'N)
             -154.6406  (154°38.438'W)
Time 01:00 Hawaiian Time

Less than 8 knots of wind since sunset. We have been motoring at 2000 RPM going about 5 knots.  This is the first time we have needed to motor more than about 1 hour.  The weather info shows light wind thru Saturday, but starting Sunday we should have good wind again.
Gavin & Gautam were on duty when I saw a freighter on the horizon at 22:00 (10 PM) on Friday.  I changed course as it seemed to be heading towards us.  About 20 minutes after seeing the freighter the AIS info appeared.  AIS is course, speed, and other information about the freighter which should be transmitted all the time.  I wonder if they had it off. It normally takes less than two minutes to get the AIS information.  Before we received the AIS information we used radar to follow the ship and decide which course to change to.  Gavin and Gautam both saw first hand why it is important to keep a look out.

Swim party - Phil

Date:  June 12th, Friday
Time:  11:00 Hawaiian Time
Position:    28.7199  (28°43.194'N)
          -155.5424  (155°32.542'W)
App  Wind: 12 - 13 knots
True Wind: 15 knots
True Wind direction: 170 True
Sea:  3 - 4 foot swells
Log: 482 NM
Distance to SF via planned route: 1896 NM

It was such a pleasant morning that we stopped.  Well, almost, there was a 0.9 knot current.  Everyone tied a line to the boat and jumped overboard to do some swimming two at a time.  Pictures after the trip!  The water was deep blue and crystal clear.  I checked the boat bottom and prop, all was perfect.  After about 45 minutes swimming we had lunch, Heineken and started sailing again.
Who told me that boat deliveries were hard work?

Friday night update from Phil

Date: June 12
Time: 6 PM Hawaiian time
Position:  29.109 N  (29 degrees 6.59 minutes)
              -155.091 W  (155 degrees 5.42 minutes)

After our swim this morning, we had a very fast sail going over 8.5 knots with 15 - 17 knots breeze using the large Code 0 sail. That sail has been great the last 2 days with the light wind.
Gavin was in the middle of making spaghetti and I was getting the spinnaker lines out and rigged, since the wind was shifting to nearly dead astern, when suddenly ....
Wait, let me start at the beginning.
During the last two days we have hooked 4 fish and each time our line or something else broke. In the end, we ran completely out of the line that was on the reel. So, I decided we were going to use tackle that would not break!  I got 12 feet of wire which Jared, who is a commercial salmon fisherman during the summer in Alaska, tied two loops in that he guaranteed would not break.  I got 250 feet of dyneema line and the best looking lure we had. One just like the bait taken yesterday.
.. when suddenly the reel started spinning like crazy.  15 minutes later we had a fresh Dorado on board!  Now what? It was still jumping...  Well, this was captured on video so you can see later when we post it after we return.
So the spaghetti goes into the fridge- the pasta was not yet started, and we now have Bar-B-Que'd fish, sautéed fish and fresh potatoes.

So today we had a swim party, fresh fish, made a lot of progress, and there will be white wine for dinner.  Got to go get dinner......

Barbeque Dorado

Friday, June 12th:

Swimming in an 18,000 feet deep pool. That about says it all.

This morning we spotted a black bottle in the water, it was sealed, and seemed like it might have a message in it. So, we tacked around to get it. In the midst of that, the fishing line that runs from the stern got caught around the keel. So, we stopped the boat, and soon everyone was diving and splashing in the water. Not to mention the middle of nowhere swim photo-op. We were tethered, of course, and the boat kept sailing ever so slightly at ~1 knot.

As if the gods know it's Friday, an unsuspecting dorado took our bait. This was No Ka Oi's great fishing accomplishment. So far, the fish were only making away with the bait stealthily, leaving everyone puzzled. They are still winning with 3 baits to them and one fish to us. And, now it's on to cooking dorado: barbecue (ya, barbecue!), ceviche, lemon and capers, and a good ole bottle of Chardonnay. Who said this was some kind of challenging adventure and not just a moving party in the middle of the pacific.

We have now covered about 500 nautical miles and have about 1800 to go. Reminds me of that James Taylor song, a few miles behind and many more to go.


Yesterday: Thursday, June 11th:
Yesterday was terribly hot and humid. In fact, there was no way you could coax me into coming down here and writing. I was thinking to myself: 'ok, five days in the middle of this circle, now what'. Little did I know what today would bring.

Since it is about 2400 nautical miles and 24 hours in a day, I came up with a simple calculation where you divide 100 by the average speed to get the number of days this trip will take. With two days of roughly 7-8 knot speed, that was looking pretty awesome, ie. 12-14 days. I think given our late start and our penchant to chase bottles and what not, the current ETA of Tuesday the 23rd is still pretty awesome.


And, Wednesday: June 10th:
On Wednesday after I left off, the evening was uneventful. Just keeping watch as we went forward at 8 knots and still were pretty much in the middle of the circle. The change in scenery comes from the clouds. About 10 pm, the moon arose from the east, and even at a quarter moon, lit up the entire ocean.

-Gautam

Time: 06:30
Position: 28.4033  (28 degrees 24.30 minutes)
            -155.8175 (155 degrees 49.02 minutes)

Last night the wind was steady at 15 knots so we did 7- 8 knots most of the night.  We had two fish on the lines after dark but we were going so fast we could not bring them in. We did not lose any gear though.  Hopefully today!
The wind went down to 7 or 8 knots an hour ago. We started motoring but anticipate it will build later in the morning.
Food is good, crew is happy, another fun sail in warm blue water today.

Somewhere North of Oahu

I'm settling into life on the boat. Somehow, at the start of this trip, it didn't seem like life on the boat so much as the beginning of a very long trip filled with unknowns.

Today has been the best day so far with perfect wind and weather. We finally settled into a sail plan that lets us go fast through most of the conditions we've seen so far.

I enjoy the sailing. It's like waking up every day and going sailing without the hassle of getting the boat ready and putting it away. You just wake up, come up to the cockpit, and there you are, sailing.

The necessity of having at least two people "on duty" at all times fits well with my often-erratic sleep habits. Watches are shorter at night (four vs six hours) so we're able to sleep whenever necessary within those limits. Most of the time it's very tame and pleasant sailing. The "on duty" people drive the boat, watch for hazards, and trim the sails while the "off duty" people sleep, cook, or whatever. "Whatever" is limited on the boat--space is tight and the boat is constantly heeled over and pitching, so the most prudent "whatever" activities are those where one stays well-braced against a wall.

The weather router's ETA has us arriving on the 25th of June, but we're running about a day behind schedule so far because of a late start and a couple of periods of light wind.

There's not much to the sailing except trimming for wind and course changes. We've been on starboard tack nearly the entire trip and expected to stay that way for a few more days, until we turn eastward and tack to port. There are the occasional squalls to watch out for though--things happen quickly when those isolated low-pressure areas cross our path.
The wind either dies or doubles, the rain comes, and then the wind either dies or doubles (whichever it didn't do before).

Somewhere North of Oahu,

-Jared

Magical pacific wind on Wednesday

Yesterday morning I took the log into the cockpit to go over the data with the crew. As I went up the stairs I tripped and the binder came apart. Pages flew everywhere. Mai caught most of them, I grabbed a few, but one sheet flew out away from the boat. We all stared as the sheet floated up, down, around and followed us as it seemed to dance about 30 feet away from the boat. And then after about 30 seconds of dancing, a puff of magical wind blew it back into the cockpit where Jared grabbed it.  Not one page was lost but one did taste freedom for a brief while.

Thursday afternoon, June 11th

The wind was very light for most of the morning finally dropping to 5 knots by noon.  We put up the code 0 sail and did well, then the wind increased to 15 knots so we are moving along very well at 7 knots.
Another warm sunny day watching blue circle.

Time:  2 PM Hawaii time
Position: 26.9728  North
            -156.8350  West

Thursday, treasures from the pacific

10:00 AM Thursday morning Hawaiian time
12 knot warm breeze
Boat speed 5.5 knots
Wind (breeze) direction: 130 degrees true
Position  N 26.7716
              W -156.965

We were sitting in the cockpit enjoying the music and morning clouds when we saw a glass bulb off in the distance. I said, let's go look at it.  It turned out to be an old fashion looking, Thomas Edison style, 12 inch light bulb with interesting things growing on it. Not very interesting so we let it sink after taking some good pictures.  Within a boat length or two was another interesting object. At first we thought it was a fish sunning itself on the surface but it turned out to be a large plastic sphere with things growing on it. It broke in half when we approached it so Jared and Gautam thought it would make a good helmet. Pictures after we get home.

Earlier in the morning Gavin made bacon biscuits and gravy.
So now we are back to listening to music, watching the deep blue water go by.
Gautam thinks we are in the middle of a 20 mile circle and can't get out. As we look out at the horizon it is the same distance all around a flat circle.
Hopefully he is mistaken.

Yesterday we ran the water maker for 2 hours and replenished the large tank. We have water in plastic bottles and a second tank as back up.  We still have fresh food in the fridge and lots of frozen meat/chicken so if Gautam is correct we will be able to watch the round blue circle for a few weeks.

Thursday 12:30 AM, just past midnight

A more beautiful night sail would seem to be impossible.
Saturn, Jupiter, the moon, a warm pleasant 15 kt breeze, and
a gentle sea with soft two foot waves.  We are doing 7.5 kts.
No large clouds, no ships, just No Ka Oi quietly heading
north.  Later tonight, a couple of hours before sunrise Venus will come up.
Gavin and Gautam are sleeping. Mai, Jared and I are
taking turns at the helm enjoying ideal conditions.

-Phil