Author: helen

We all welcomed day 21 with hope and optimism. Steve confirmed that we should see land by tomorrow morning and make land fall by tomorrow sunset. Tomorrow! What a wonderful word. Today would have been a better word but tomorrow is good enough. All we had to do was average three and half knots for the rest of the trip. Easy peasy. Yeah. Don’t forget we’re in the twilight zone.
In the morning we were doing three and half knots. In the afternoon we were doing two and half knots. In the evening the wind died and stayed dead. During my night watch we were doing one and half knots. The nearer we got to land, the slower the boat got. Would we ever reach land? At the end of my night watch it was 0.8 knots. The ETA showed 74 hours. Thats another three more days. Wasn’t it three days ago that the ETA was three days. Noooooooo!

Two years ago I was packing the content of our house into boxes. We’d sold our house. We’d both given in our resignation at work. Our youngest son Sam was about to turn eighteen. We were about to start our much planned for and dreamed of adventure. I remember packing a book on the Pacific Crossing and thinking ‘No way! I know our plan was to circumnavigate but I wanted to blank out the part about spending weeks on an immense ocean, vulnerable to the whims of the elements. At the time I half seriously suggested to Steve that for the Pacific crossings he should get a crew and I would fly out and meet him at the other end. The thought of an ocean crossing scared me to death.

A year ago my thoughts about doing an ocean crossing were a little more open. We’d been living and traveling on our boat for a few months by then. But I was still reluctant. I still didn’t want to think about it. I’d only done a few over night crossings which I hadn’t enjoyed at all. The thought of days out at sea was too daunting.

Here I am now, almost at landfall after weeks at sea. Three and half thousand miles of water crossed from the American continent. Having survived days and days of pounding waves during strong wind sailing. Delighted in calmer days when we glided smoothly over gentle swells. Curbed frustration when the wind died. Coped with the day to day monotony. Endured night watches. Content to meditate and think for hours staring out at the never ending, ever changing sea. Awed again and again by the variety and beauty of dawn and sun set over the ocean each day. Thrilled by passing visits from whales, dolphins and turtles. Enjoyed and savored the companionship of John and Steve. Felt completely overwhelmed with the vastness, power and beauty of the ocean. Been a little crazy.
So how did I find my first ocean crossing?
It was a piece of cake!

Another day of pleasant sedate sailing. Steve set up the ETA countdown on our display. In the afternoon our ETA was around 77 hours. That’s only three more days. We could make it before sunset of May 3rd.
At the end of my night shift our eta was around 79 hours. Are we in the twilight zone!!!

During the night, the wind picked up, not by much, but enough to sail at around 4 to 5 knots. I thought it was quite pleasant, the boys though it was too slow and sedate. Steve feels that for days he’s been expecting landfall in three of four days.
While on my morning watch, I saw something fly up from the water and hit the back deck hard near the cockpit. It was a skip jack tuna. Not very big, about two pounds or so, but enough to feed the three of us. The impact was so hard that half of its head was flattened and blood had splattered all around the deck and the cockpit area. After Steve cleaned and gutted the tuna, I got down to cleaning the splattered blood. The smell was pretty unpleasant as the fish blood had sprayed everywhere including on our seat cushions. The smell lingered for the rest of day. By dinner time, neither John nor I wanted to eat fish. I dug out the beef patties I’d been saving and we had cheeseburgers instead! Typical really, for days we’ve been dying for fish and when we catch one, we’re not in the mood.
After dinner just as Steve was bringing in the fishing line, we caught another bigger tuna! Typical!

Too little wind is almost as bad as too much wind. Today we had too little. With not enough wind to glide us over the waves and hold the main sail steady, the boat bobbed uncomfortably side to side on the waves, the main sail and boom banged and flapped around.
We may have averaged about two to three knots. Not good at all.
Steve got so desperate he pulled out our torn code zero and started sewing it up. Hoping to mend it enough so that we could use it in the light wind. We watched him struggle with yards and yards and yards of light weight frayed sail. After hours of sewing and barely making a dent in the tear, he gave up.
Yesterday was the best day. Today is the worse.