Aboard Dignity (Lagoon 420) Blog

What a difference an hour makes. And we’ve had a few of those recently.

An hour after I last blogged squalls formed behind the boat. Squalls are, to varying degrees, rain clouds which show on the radar as blobs and are frequently accompanied by strong and variable winds. Understandably one tries to be out of their way. In the morning light air I jibed this way and that to stay out of the path of the main one bearing down on us, at one point sailing perpendicular to our course.

A line of squalls is usually associated with some change in the weather. Behind these squalls came a block of humid air with a slight wind shift. We sailed on through the day dodging a few more squalls while the seas rose in height. We were now in 4m swells which weren’t too bad as they were quite smooth.

By mid-afternoon a new set of ominous squalls formed behind us. By now we had one reef in the main which I thought, for now, was enough. As the line of squalls passed around us the seas pickup up to 5m and the wind picked up in strength. We began surfing down the huge waves making up to 13-14 knots at times. Picture the beginning of the Poseidon Adventure. Now get that out of your mind as it wasn’t that bad. But it sort of felt like it.

The rain was pouring down now and the winds at 30 knots too strong for one reef. So we turned the boat into the wind and the huge swell and put a second reef in the main. The surfing continued. On the radar we could see the edge of the storm we were in that had passed over us previously. We soon caught it up and stayed surfing at the leading, rough edge of the storm for about an hour.

It was now 5 in the evening and dusk approaching. Despite the thrill (my word) of the moment this was no way to sail overnight so we decided to lower the main. This turned out to be quite challenging. We turned the boat into what soon ramped up to 40 knot winds and smashed into the swell. Helen took position at the mast and helped the sail down. I gave the helm over to Paul so I could go on the bimini roof and close the sail bag. I ended up sliding around on my knees hanging on to the boom getting nowhere. Helen, having tried to raise the lazy jacks a little found herself unable to do anything more than hang onto the lines. I returned, sorted out the lazy jacks, grabbed my harness and tether and adjusted the topping lift and main sheet to make the boom more steady. I went back up and tried again this time having a little more success. I was able to half close the sail bag but the wind was inflating the front of the main making the bag not only impossible to close further but threatened to push the zip back open. I had Paul turn the boat downwind which took the wind out of the lowered sail allowing me to close the bag.

While I was busy tying the bag closed a few feet of the jib escaped resulting in the job sheets flaying around. I was in the way of all this still sorting things out so I was glad when Helen and Paul got this under control.

With everything tied down and the boat running downwind we could retire to the cabin, all of us soaking wet. That set the stage for the night watches. With 35 knot winds and, initially, pouring rain and a tiny amount of headsail out we maintained course for Fiji, now back on for a Sunday arrival. Overnight the rain broke and the winds died down to the high 20s where they are right now. Being outside had it’s risks as every now and then a wave would manage to break over the side of the boat soaking everything. Paul seemed to like being out there but for Helen and I there is no novelty in this.

The seas and wind have moved around more to the east and more on our beam making the ride a little more wild. At this point everyone thinks the overtime fees for a Sunday arrival will be money well spent.

One day can make a lot of difference. The clouds spent the day gradually showing us a little more blue sky. The 4 meter seas lessened a little and lost their raggedy edge. The sea and air temperature both inched up and we felt as if we were back in the tropics, sailing the trades. We even had to turn on the fans in our berth when we went for a rest. Earlier low feeling were now soaring. That’s what it’s like on passage. Confined to the surrounds of the boat surrounded by the ever changing elements our emotions begin to amplify. Helen, for a while, got into arrival day minus two mode. This is when contemplation of imminent landfall brings an additional high.

But one night can also make a lot of difference. Overnight the winds have dropped. Helen’s not going to be too happy when she wakes and learns that right now we’re struggling to make a Monday arrival.

Once it is light we’ll throw up the Code Zero which should improve our ETA.