Day 9: It’s Movin’ Day!
Holy Modal Rounders, Moving Day. Play on Spotify. Youtube.
HDG - 260°
TWA - 145°
TWS - 16kts
SOG - 7.8KTS
So we’ve been at this for nine days. Maybe not quite halfway there, but with a solid breeze forecast, plenty of fuel in the tank - I can see the end.
You can hear the missing of loved ones and home in the stories that are being told. Fewer of the “there we were, knee-deep in the shit” stories and more of the “and then the doctor said it’s a girl” stories.
The emails home, however, have revealed a deeper, more disturbing undercurrent. One crew member wrote to his daughter (thankfully she can’t read yet) “daddy and the team had some challenges, including having to fix our water maker and other mechanical things. Sadly, Mr. Kristen’s euchre game seems beyond repair.” And another wrote to his mother, “while provisions and fresh food remain plentiful, thoughts have turned to cannibalism and darker ideas.” It is not full-blown sea madness yet, but it is on the horizon.
Yesterday we paused for a mid-ocean swim. We had another lull where the breeze completely shut down and the ocean went glass flat. There is this color of blue that you can only see if you come out here and see it for yourself. It is part Matrix (no one can be told about the Matrix, you have to see it for yourself) and part Hunter S. Thompson, “Buy the ticket. Ride the ride.” Not only is swimming in the middle of the ocean an incredible feeling, but it’s about the best shower you can take. Dive in. Get out. Soap up. Dive in. Get out. Rinse down with fresh water. It’s a pelagic spa treatment. It was also the other three sailors’ first mid-ocean dip and I clicked off a few frames with my film camera to capture the moment. Probably not great pictures but definitely great memories.
As it turns out we could have saved the swim for today. This morning we sailed past the first bit of flotsam we’ve seen on the trip. A few buoys and what looked like a sack of oranges. An hour or so later I thought we were a little slow for the conditions and while throwing out the onion peels and egg shells from an amazing breakfast hash bowl (fried eggs, home fried potatoes, Iberian bacon, cheese, and siracha) I noticed we were towing a long line, all those buoys and a mid-ocean ecosystem of muscles clams and who knows what else. With some quick work by the whole team, we were free from our nylon bonds. That’s twice I’ve hooked stringy garbage with this boat… should be done for the year, I hope!
We’ve been patiently waiting for a pretty big high-pressure system to start pumping some good N/NE’ly winds in our direction. We got a little taste of it last night with the on-deck crew often calling out “ten-point two!!!!” as the boat would slide down a wave.
Just before dinner tonight we rigged the whisker pole and are sailing a “high wing on wing” angle trying to keep west to stay in pressure, but also take advantage of waves being generated by the 16-20kt winds. We probably wouldn’t be sailing this angle if winning a race to St. Lucia was all that mattered, but it made for a fun exercise to rig, and a fun angle to sail.
We did learn that the wing stops working on this boat at about 140° TWA, really lights up at 140°-150° and we call 165° our safety bottom. Its an easy angle. My preference would be to sail a little higher (more due west than SW) because it would make the port tack gybe angle better when the wind shifts to the east (predicted), but what heck, we are still at 20° N and we have to get down to 14° N at some point. If it makes the crew happy let’s do it. It also lets me feign being grumpy, which seems to make them really happy. Whatever it takes.
Today we saw some new creatures. We’ve had a few dolphin sightings though not many. We had our hitchhiker bird, maybe a booby or a gannet of some kind. Today we saw our first flying fish, but these were BIG suckers. Not the kind you see in the Gulf Stream sailing to Abacos. These were nerf-football-sized fish that landed with a splash. Like teenagers riding kid’s bikes — they needed some bigger wings. I’ve taken a fish to the head… these made me think helmets might be a good idea. We also saw a small almost robin-sized sea bird. It was not petrel-like. Something different. And then, as a harbinger or a guide, we saw our first long tail. These birds are often guides to the last 100 miles of Bermuda. I was more than a little surprised to see one all the way out here, but it made me think we must be getting closer. And while I am really enjoying this passage—more than I even thought I would—I am excited to be getting closer.
Safe watch. kb OUT.