Alohaaa!

I don’t think i can keep blog notes for over a month in order to tell you about this long leg.  But what i can do is extract the more interesting parts from my daily noon position reports that i send to Bud (and family and friends).  It will seem like it goes on and on, the days will blend one into another…maybe it will bore you, or maybe you’ll get the feel of it. 

Before i tell of our passage to Hawaii, tho, i have to damn our departure from Panama.  Their immigration extortion takes the prize.  I dedicated a day to getting our exit papers in order and ran up against a bureaucracy and a bitch who liked wielding power to frustrate my efforts.  When i arrived at their office, she sent me away with paperwork for my crew to fill out.  When i returned, she told me how much this would cost – why didn’t she tell me this the first time? - $220, which i didn’t have with me.  When i returned from a bank ATM with the money, she told me the office would close in 15 minutes and we didn’t have enuf time.  I argued.  She folded her arms.  On the way back to the boat, i ranted.  My cab driver called the immigration agent at the Balboa Yacht Club, where Akimbo was moored.  Turns out, this agent is his brother-in-law.  He said that if we aren’t sailing back to Panama in the next three years we didn’t really have to have the papers for the boat’s departure…all we need is to have our passports stamped and he could take care of that.  I took him up on it.  We departed the next morning, betting that the authorities in Hawaii won’t want more than our passports.  

Meantime, my illustrious crew took care of the rest of the provisioning.  ALL of it.  Thank you! 

Hawaii bound.  The thing is…there’s a tropical storm (or it might be a hurricane by now) arriving in Hawaii as i write this entry.  Usually storms veer north before they get to Hawaii.  Let’s hope this weather pattern is getting this over with before we get there.  Our planned route will take us to Cocos Island and south of the storm tracks until we are beyond most of them and can safely head northwest to the islands.  

8/1/20123  “And…they’re off!”  Departed at 9am.  Very light winds.  Had to motor.  Still only made 100nm in a day.  Next day, grateful for a little wind even if it is “in our teeth.”  Dodged some squalls, made 123nm.  A dorado got off our hook, three tuna not so lucky.  Thank you tuna.  Next?  Only 71nm made.  Sailing against wind and current is NOT a profitable prospect.  The next day, with only 79nm made, we finally started some westing and a decision felt made for me – getting out of the Panama basin is too hard to waste our opportunities…we’re not going to Cocos after all. 

We have to get south of the equatorial counter current (against us) and into the equatorial current (with us).  This will take us temptingly close to the equator – tempting us to go 120nm further south to cross it, thus letting us leave astern our dull pollywog selves to become (far more glorious) shellbacks.  Shall see. 

In this first week, the crew is still in their transition phase, adapting to the rhythm of watching and sleeping and watching and sleeping.  And eating – very well, by the way.  At this point, they still question the schedule.  We really must learn to pace ourselves, to take advantage of sleep when it is an option.  From experience, i trust that our bodies will learn to live well enuf with this new pattern.

5 days out.  We seem to have sailed beyond the daily squalls near the coast.  By the time they get this far offshore, they've either spent themselves or been dissipated by the tropical sun.  Got a beautiful day on our hands, Akimbo moving well, the Milky Way in the night sky has been a delight to behold.

To get out of the adverse and into the favorable current, we tack south for 12 hours.  Then tested going west for 6 hours, and are now dipping south again.  Result?  We made only 70 nm noon to noon.  Way too slow.  And it's not that we aren't sailing well or the wind has gone light.  The wind is moderate, our speed thru the water is good.  The more i study this, the more i don't know what else to do.  It's a challenge to go the wrong way and believe it will work.

Our latest tack south was precipitated by a very strange thing.  288nm from the nearest coast we came across a 30' panga with maybe 70hp outboard tilted up.  Drifting.  With what looked like a Colombian flag flying on a tall antenna.  Mostly an open boat.  Fisherman?  Or drug runners?  Or someone in distress?  We turned around, sailed by close enuf to avoid the sea anchor they were tethered to.  We saw another staff with flag far behind them.  Net?  Didn't see anyone.  Honked our horn and someone's head popped up.  He waved.  But not for a rescue.  Two more people stood up.  He put the outboard down in the water and started pulling to start it...like they wanted to get away from us?  He didn’t get it started, they did not wave for help, we waved goodbye and sailed on.  When we were out of their sight, we tacked to a course they would not know we were on...  Strange experience.

Replaced one of the feed pumps to the water maker today.

"Ocean Passages for the World" describes the exit from the Panama basin as "vexatious" for sailboats.  We agree.  Only 102 nautical miles made, this day.

The jib halyard chafed thru today.  Halyards normally last years, not four days.  In Cartagena i noticed chafe on the halyard, so i replaced the sheave at the top of the jib hoist.  Tho’t that would take care of it.  Obviously i should have kept a closer eye on this.  We've got the jib hoisted on the leeward spinnaker halyard for now.  Also we're using the windward running backstay so the mast will work less.  This is working well enuf since we will likely be on port tack for the next few weeks.  When we get to 090 degrees west longitude, the wind should move aft for us , whereupon we’ll reach with the genoa instead of beat with the jib.  But we are compromised a little.  Can't pull the halyard as tight as usual, can't point as high or sail as hard...  And i don't want to lose another halyard, so we plan to drop the jib daily to check it and the spinnaker halyard for wear. 

So, what is causing the chafe?  My guess is:  the age of the jib.  That to tighten the luff enuf on an old stretched out sail, i over tighten the halyard.  The cure?  A new jib.  (pause) I have to think about that.    The halyard itself is long enuf to be re-reaved and continue to be used.  But i'm not willing to go up the mast out here.  It won't get calm enuf for that.  So i figure we'll make the repair at a dock in Hawaii.  This kind of thing happens and i try to take it in stride.  But i'm afraid it wears hard on my new crew.  They asked if we have to turn back, where the nearest safe harbor is (for a repair - we would have to backtrack (so this won’t happen), but this kind of equipment failure might give us a good excuse for stopping by Cocos without permission), what my fail safe parameters are?  All good questions.  I’m afraid my assurances that we are only 10% compromised didn’t allay their concerns…that i only know things will go wrong on any passage, but i don’t know what things, so i can’t plan for them.  I carry spares.  I don’t have fail safes.  I plan on being able to jury rig and keep going, virtually no matter what, not on stopping, going back or looking for help.  That may well be a weak part of my skills. 

134nm noon to noon.  At 3 degrees 8 minutes north and 88 degrees 15 minutes west.  Beating (still) in 20 knots of wind backing to southerly.  Course is 250 and speed 7.5.  Main is single reefed but the traveler is well down, so it isn't full.  Our "life at an angle" continues.  Reaching will be a pleasure.  Crew continues to adjust.  Good crew! By the way, odd thing:  Tiz and i have the same birthday.  More odd still:  Greg and Rima have the same birthday.  Still more:  Greg and Rima are left handed.  And finally someone pointed out we are all "scorpios"  (or as Tiz and i say in our case, being on a cusp, "scorpitariuses"). 

Had a few crossings with commercial ships last night.  As big as this ocean is, that surprises me.   Akimbo sails more smoothly for now.  I keep going over her every detail in my mind, and hoping for the best.  Tiz caught a nice size dorado today.  Mahi-mahi for breakfast, lunch and dinner (but not for Greg - his digestion has been way off).   Noon to noon, 160 nautical miles.

163nm noon to noon. Still beating against southerly winds of 18 knots, heeled hard over under jib and reefed main.  It appears we have current with us.  Plannin' to get to 2 degrees north and then reach.  And reach and reach.  Looking forward to that. 

A fishing boat trailed us most of the night and then diverged at dawn.  Surprising amount of traffic out here.  "Neighborhood is goin' to hell.  I tho’t we moved OUT of the suburbs."  But we've been near the Galapegos. 

Watched a frigate down a boobie...for fun?!  Didn't seem like it was for food.  Maybe comes back to eat it off the water's surface?  Wild aerobatics.  Looked cruel, but (we are reminded) nature is indifferent indeed. 

E-mailed a sailor friend in Hawaii to hear how it's been and where to harbor.  Will start reading the only thin guidebook soon and study the charts. 

From 2 degrees 5 minutes north and 96 degrees 44 minutes west.  191nm noon to noon, close reaching in 20 knots under jib and triple reefed main (tucked in the triple just before sunset).  Motion is much more liveable now that we aren't beating.  Whew!  I got weary when we had to go back to beating for a few days more.  Pounding to weather day after day takes its toll on boat and crew.  Instead of just "hangin' on" at a sharp angle of heel, maybe now we can start to catch up.  So "the list" has grown with what chaos has wreaked and then there's basic clean-up.  Of boat and selves.  Should be a morale booster, along with the bread i've got rising.  Soon we'll crack off the wind a little more and i'll hope to push for a little more speed to up our averages...IF the weather (and chaos) allows.  Traffic has finally thinned out.  Haven't seen anyone for over a day.  Just us and the boobies and frigates now. 

Wearin' my foulies at night to keep warm.  As each day goes by we each adapt more and more.  Perhaps not only shore recedes but so also do our "selves."  We have put ourselves where we are forced to not hold on so thoroughly to our "little force" and instead connect more to a "greater force."  Maybe that's why i come out here (STILL haven't figured THAT one out).

Yesterday i gave us a "day off."  We had finally gotten off of beating and the pounding it gave us and had settled into a reach.  We could have increased sail, but i left them at their conservative smallest.  Turned on the hot water heater for showers, and baked fresh bread.  We caught, cleaned, cooked and ate a tuna.  I told my crew that tomorrow i would start crackin' Akimbo on. 

So, noon to noon?  Didn't expect much, but...191nm again!  An 8 knot average.  Y'gotta love a favorable current.  I've been hoping to crack 200nm more than once this leg.  Now i'm visualizing a 240nm day please just once?

Next day now, so after dawn we unrolled the genoa and shook all the reefs out of the main.  Touched 10 knots over ground for a bit.  But we're back to 7+ for now.  I'm talkin' about the drifter soon.  Wind is backing aft on us, and blowin' 16 true.  Pesto for dinner tonight. 

Last night the winds got quite light and flukey around the rain clouds.  Even ran the engine for a little, when the waves were bigger than the wind and shakin' hell out of the sails for virtually no speed.  Woke up to find LOTS of little squid dead on deck, maybe 100?!  This morning we put up the drifter and left a reef in the main.  Reaching at 8 and 9 knot speeds since. Course is about 275.  Lots of overcast.  Wind out of the SSW at 14.  Distance made:  160nm. 

Near the equator we have been experiencing very consistent cloud cover and winds near 20 (tho at night they sometimes go light).  No rain to speak of.  Sighting birds has become more rare but they’re still out here.  And traffic has disappeared for a third day now.  The drifter and single reefed main carry us mostly over 10 knots, with the help of the equatorial current. 201nm made good noon to noon!  Thank you. 

Carried the drifter all night.  But the wind is heading us.  Greedy for a record run, i kept us to too much northing.  Will have to make it up under the genoa and main. Fresh mahi-mahi for lunch and dinner.   221 miles noon to noon!  Oh boy.

So after that good run under the drifter, at noon we turned west under the jib and full main and sailed close to the wind.  As the night went on, the wind backed.  Winds and seas were fairly light and small.  But it was a beautiful, lovely, delightful, quiet night on a close reach sailing at half the apparent wind speed.  Akimbo's bow wave chuckling along her hull and trailing astern.  Last night was THE classic one hoped for and imagined by sailors and land lubbers alike.  The half moon set half way thru, the stars were out and singing.  The wind finally did as forecast and hoped for:  it became a southeast trade wind.  Early this morning we eased our course off to about 250 and replaced the jib with the drifter.  While we are tracking our watches today, each of us lets the other sleep or nap regardless.  You might wish you were here. 

It's time to start reading the Hawaii cruising guide, and take care of procrastinated chores.  Sun is out.  Cockpit cover is stretched taut. 

Noon position:  2 degrees 57.5 minutes north and 111 degrees and 42 minutes west.  138 miles noon to noon, made with ease.  At the halfway point, a few days away, we make our best guesses at our arrival date and time in Hawaii.

August 19:  halfway celebration.  This IS a long haul.  And it calls for a ration of grog.  It's time to place our bets about our arrival date and time in Hawaii.  My guess is September 4 at 4:43pm.  Watch out!  I am uncannily lucky at guessing ETAs. 

I'm in touch with a friend on the Big Island who will try to line a few days moorage up for us.  We'll want a few days for laundry, workin' on the boat, provisioning...  I don't know if we will get to other islands or not but i would like to.  Especially as a way to ease a new crew in to getting to know Akimbo and me before launching off across the ocean.  Shall see – maybe you get the idea that i'm just makin' this stuff up as i go.  True.  I can only plan so far ahead.      

Some big fish bit our hook today but spit it out.  Still seein' birds even way out here.  Akimbo's bow charges on and squadrons of flying fish take flight away.  Have seen millions of them by now.  A brief visit from a few porpoise, sunset before last.  “Slip-slidin' away.”

Well...this isn't as smooth as i make it sound, actually.  Several nights the wind has gone light and the waves have remained - adds up to the sails (boat and crew too) taking a beating for only slow progress.  This can tend to fray our patiences.  It's never more apparent that a good sense of humor is essential.  At least we haven't had to add much engine time to the trip since the first week.  While Akimbo is not “racing” fast, she’s not slow and sails well.    

Yesterday, my error, i let slip a spinnaker halyard.  Damn!  Disappointed with myself.  So today we prepare to climb the mast and string a new one...when wind and seas allow. We can restring the spinnaker halyard out here because it can be strung on the outside of the mast.  Can't do it with the jib halyard because it runs inside the mast and a weight on a string dropped inside while the mast waves this way and that could wrap around all kinds of things in there and cause chafe and damage down the line.  For the jib halyard, a quiet day at a dock is necessary.  Otherwise, one piece of maintenance a day (unless something demands immediate repair) takes pretty good care of Akimbo. 

Okay, we have a starboard spinnaker halyard again.  Tizz sent aloft.  No injuries.  Thank you. 

We've had three strikes on our fishing line now that almost immediately spit the hook out?  These must be the smart fish.  Not the ones we're trying to weed out (for the sake of the species).  

Clouds have mostly thinned out. Blue skies.  19 knot winds have veered back to the SE.  Course is 264 magnetic and speed is 7.6 knots under genoa alone.  Where are we?  2 degrees 57 minutes north and 119 degrees 49' west.  156nm made.  When we get to 4 north and 130 west, we plan to start angling northwest.  Lovely moon and stars last night.  

It's too easy to get so caught up in responsibilities that i forget to enjoy this ride.  It helps to see "the list" and repairs as simply a little more entertainment than i planned on.  To see them as part of the show.  And it helps to have good crew, with good senses of humor, good attitudes, agile awareness...  These guys are great!  Had our half-way debrief yesterday afternoon.  Everyone reports well of themselves and this experience so far.  Good. 

Lost a lure yesterday.  Must've been a big fish, to break a 50# test.  Full moon on the water was mesmerizing last night.  Gotta do some laundry (in a bucket of soapy water on the swimstep) and take a shower.  Noon position: 3 degrees 28 minutes north and 123 degrees 4 minutes west.  197 nm made.

Chaos won the day yesterday.  Remember the starboard spinnaker halyard we just restrung?  Complete with a trip up the mast.  Well...  At the top of the mast the spinnaker halyard blocks are each shackled to their own bail (this is a u-shaped bolt thru the top plate of the mast).  While reaching nicely with the drifter in moderate wind, we heard something pop.  At first it sounded like the hull had struck a small log?  I was down here at the computer (sending yesterday's noon report, i think) and went up on deck to find the drifter trailing along Akimbo's starboard side in the water.  Once we wrestled the drifter and all its rigging back aboard, and spread what we could of the drifter out to start drying, i inspected it's halyard block.  Which looks good.  Greg used his super zoom on his camera to look at the top of the mast.  It appears the bail broke. 

This shakes me more than a little.  Especially after having been suspended by that halyard while working at the masthead in both Aruba and Cartagena.  Note to self:  use only halyards that run over a sheave that is internal to the mast.  The other pause it gives me is to wonder what other surprise is about to let go.  Leaves me feeling quite vulnerable.  Okay, this could all "go to hell in a handbasket" in an instant...but then so can anything else.   Like drivin' down a freeway late at night, or...  I keep telling myself i replaced all the standing rigging in 2009.  But the running rigging?  Hopefully i notice weak pieces before traumas like yesterday's.  But i haven't (and can't) notice them all.  Like the watermaker pre-filter housing cracking back in Grenada, like the seals on the backstay hydraulic rams failing, etc...  Akimbo is not a new boat.  Still, yesterday's gear failure is disappointing and truly worrisome.  Chaos won.  We are "down" another halyard until we get to Hawaii. 

The good news is that the drifter is undamaged.  And the genoa has been the perfect sail for the conditions we've been in and the heading we want.  Last night's full moon sail was nothing short of lovely.  Steady and reasonably fast.  Also, as we make our way north we expect to go onto and stay on starboard tack.  Whereupon the port spinnaker halyard will take care of the sail combinations we want.  There is a boatyard at the marina we are aiming for in Hawaii - hopefully they'll have what i need to replace the spinnaker halyard bails. 

Sheesh!  We've been on port tack so long, heeling, that the bottom growth on the starboard side is well above the water line now.  Not very pretty, but i hope to scrub the bottom when we get there.  Meantime my appreciation of the crew grows.   Let us hope for no more surprises.

Noon 8/22.  Uneventful, report, this one.  Whew!  Distance made:  179nm.  Very steady conditions.  South wind, 15 to 20.  Builds during the day and then moderates after dusk.  So far so good.  Heard a little squeak from the rudder post.  Keepin' an eye on that too.  Looks fine. 

Blue sky with trains of little puffy clouds here and there.  This morning at dawn, the sun rising behind me lit the flying fish ahead brightly., flashes of light against the background of a dark blue sea.

8/23  Another successfully uneventful day and night to report.  Thank you.

We started some northing this morning.  And are trying the drifter on the port spin halyard even tho we are on port tack.  There does not appear to be any chafe of that halyard on the headstay.  Later we will drop the drifter to look at the halyard up close and then rehoist.  Here's hoping the bail holds up. 

We've been south long enuf, and for good reason - favorable current, tradewinds and well away from storm tracks.  Now we hurdle an adverse current and flukey winds to get to ten degrees north with favorables again...but storm tracks too.  Shall keep a weather eye out. 

Bud, thank you for the copying and pasting the weather reports.  They put the grib files i get into context.

The fish out here seem to be either too big or too smart for us.  We've had a dozen strikes that get off the hook quickly.  Hmmm.  Tizz and i were at the bow this morning, changing sail, and watched a dorado chasing a flying fish.  Amazing to watch.   We tossed out another "note in a bottle" today.  

(next report)  At 4:30p the wind evaporated yesterday.  We motored until 9 and then re-hoisted the drifter.  Struggled thru the night to stay above "the sanity barrier."  And then some clouds overtook us this morning at about 6 and brought wind with them.  Reaching along nicely now, greedy for speed.  Looks like the weather trend here will involve more local shifts.  Would be nice to get showered upon - went around with a bucket and chamois yesterday to wipe salt off.

Tizz has lots of entertainment on his computer.  Lately he hooks it into the stereo, sets it on the companionway hatch slide and, sitting in the cockpit, we watch a show shortly after sunset.  "Newsroom."  Fun and somewhat important drama... entertaining the way it damns news as entertainment. 

(next report) Got fish?  As a matter of fact, we do.  An abundance, thank you very much.  Say 20# chilled plus some in our bellies.  We reeled in two dorado yesterday, 42" each.  No need to fish for a while now. 

About sunset we took the drifter down and found serious chafe on its halyard.  Glad to intercept it instead of it intercept us.  Tho halyard chafe is a known part of offshore passages, seems to me we're dealing with too much of it.  Anyway, we strung a new halyard in its place, as there was no more room to shorten the existing one.

This morning our instruments tell us that we have entered the adverse Eq counter current.  We're trying to crab across it.  Winds have held, so we're reaching well under genoa alone, until a short while ago - switched back to the drifter.   

Also this morning we were visited by lots and lots of porpoise for over an hour.  A welcome occasion.  These were mostly a smaller variety, somewhat mottled backs and some with bright white tips to their noses. 

Along comes our first real squall of this leg...reminding me to not underestimate them.  Wind got into the upper 20s, had the genoa out, and after laying on our ear for a while waiting for the wind to abate...gave up and rolled half of it up. 

Adjusted our clocks to the local time zone, so this noon to noon is a 25 hour day and only 150 miles made.  When we get to being on starboard tack, we'll know we're clear of the counter current and on our pace again to Hawaii. 

Spent the afternoon under genoa alone.  And the night, during which the wind moderated.  Did everything we could to stay above the "sanity barrier" and not kick on the engine.  Winds and seas cooperated.  This morning, rolled up half the genoa as a storm cell brushed past but the wind didn't build much.  After that the wind hauled forward of the beam and is quite light.  Have the full main and genoa up trying to eek out speed.   106nm made.

This environ has turned into our "normal."  In a way it feels like we will never get there, or that exactly here really is our destination.  Feels like the boundaries between us and our surroundings get thinner as we go. 

After a lonngg wet night...

About 4pm yesterday some big ugly clouds came by.  They took away the wind and brought rain.  So we motored thru rain until about 7 this morning.  The rain left and a little wind started.  That's when we started on starboard tack.  At first with triple reefed main and reefed genoa - dark uglies still close by.  Somewhere between 8 and 9 we rolled up the genny and hoisted the drifter.  And THAT is what we've been sailing on ever since.  The course from here to Hawaii is app'x. 285 mag, and the distance is about a thousand miles.  The wind is a little too light - 7.5 true as i write but gets up to 12 at times.   We're tired of the engine and keep making better speed than the engine can give - which is slower now that there's growth on Akimbo's bottom.  At economy cruise (2000 rpm), we only make 4 knots. 

BUT...before we motored, after we rolled up the genoa, (left the main up, and two crew aboard), Rima and i took a quick skinny dip over the side.  Picked up the swim ladder aft and climbed back aboard.  Ahh!  Baked a couple more loaves, #5 & 6 this leg.  The Cuban bread recipe with walnuts added.  Yum! 

Akimbo the “bearded lady.”  We've been motoring now for 15 hours (at least last night it wasn't in the rain).  To make this ugly fact worse...our speed (or lack thereof) is 3.4 knots.  To burn fuel for such a poor return, and to keep doing so, feels like the opposite of pro-active.  So at 8:30 this morning we shut down and drifted.  The air compressor proves key again.  Rima scrapes around the waterline while i dive on the boat and scrape the rest.  The growth was not barnacles, but worm type things with little clam type shells at their tips.  A LOT of it, especially aft of the keel.  Greg ran support for us from the deck.  I learned that the lines i usually have taut around the waterline...their aft ends should be left untied in open seas like this.  That way when the boat rolls while you hold onto the line, the boat doesn't jerk you around.  The boat squirts its way forward as it rolls.  It was challenging and at times downright bruising.  When we got done...same rpm yielded 4.6 knots.  We spent 45 minutes or so at it and it will save us more than that much time between here and Hawaii.  I'm glad we did it. 

Afterwards we had to jump in again, just to admire the crystal clear and endless view of the Pacific’s depths.  Gorgeous!  Absolutely stunning.  Wow! 

Now, send us some wind.  Please!  The pilot chart says to expect 0% calms here.  But define calm.  The swells are running from two different directions and are NOT small.  Quite uncomfortable.  With these and only 7 knots of wind, i define calm as any conditions we cannot sail with.   Only 98nm made.   Wish us better luck, and we will you. 

It took a total of 22 hours engine time to reach the wind.  Thank heavens for the "iron genny."  Ever since, we've been close reaching under the single reefed main and genoa.  Over 7 knots the whole time, over 8 since dawn, and on course.  Whew! 

Gorgeous night.  Surprised to cross paths with a 167' Chinese fishing vessel at 11pm.  Due to a language barrier, we could only say hi back and forth a few times. 

Lots of squalls passed over us last night.  On a beam reach or so, the genoa felt just manageable to me.  But only just.  The crew felt nervous with it.  So we rolled half of it up - good to take care of the crew.  Still had a raucous night. The grib files tell me to expect more of the same and it seems the gribs usually understate the winds.

9/1  Maybe these nights alternate, one dark, stormy, wet and the next gorgeous.  We enjoyed the latter last night, altho it was rolly (almost rail down at times).  Moving around the boat requires attending to handholds and intention. Without warning the roll can pitch a person across the boat.  Whereupon the next question, and quick, is "how will one stop one's flight?"  With a lucky grab, or bracing against the impact, or with one's face? 

Laid down in the cockpit for a little while and studied the stars thru binoculars.  The Milky Way absorbing more attention than i can give. 

Today dawns sunny.  Trade winds continue on our beam, exactly strong enuf to keep up with most of the seas.  Every once in a while, a big one might roll by and shake the rig.  As i lay in my berth i could feel the tug of the sail, the rhythm of the swell.  Better is when there's more wind than sea and Akimbo rides a steady glide.  Say over 7 knots.  Starting to feel like we might actually get there - so it's time to be alert, like climbers on their descent. 

Will our "sea legs" work on shore? 

 

We hope to sail by and witness the part of Hawaii's coast where lava flows into the sea.  That takes us 50 nm out of our way, but the sight of it might be worth it.  I haven't allowed for much extra-curriculum on this leg, wish we could have stopped at Cocos as planned, but at that point the decision to go on was the right one. 

Given our averages from this leg, the last leg should be 18 days.  Shall see.  There have been times when i have been weary of this trip.   At the moment tho, i'm excited by the prospect of finishing what i began.  Maybe that will fuel me to Seattle. I imagine the last leg, without a rendezvous deadline to make, will feel quite different from the rest. 

Noon position:  17 degrees 39.6 north, 150 degrees 15.8 west

Distance made:  163          Av'g. speed:  6.5 knots

Course:  285 mag          Speed:  6.6          Winds:  NE @ 18

Good luck to us all.

It may be a "rule" that the closer we get to an island the more it recedes.  We've slowed down.  The waves were slamming what little wind there was out of the genoa.  We even motored briefly.  This morning we tried to hoist a spinnaker but it's "sock" wouldn't pull off/up.  Earlier we had botched a drifter hoist and put a small tear in it.  So next we patched up the drifter.  It now carries us nicely in light wind and on course. 

Hoping to sight the island this afternoon (3rd), sail by where the lava flows into the water around dawn (4th), and next day by noon make it to a harbor where we have a slip reserved (thanks to our friend who lives on the island).  So...looks like Bud may be the winner of the ETA competition. 

As if we knew what we were doing...caught first sight of a light on Hawaii at almost 1a.m.   We were about 9 miles off the coast at dawn.  Now taking ALL of a day and night to sail around the “BIG Island” – appropriately named.  Glad to be here.  If you can plot our position and course, you’ll imagine us coasting down the SE coast, almost there.

9/5 tied up in Honokohau Harbor at 0930.   Thank you for following us.  Thank you crew.  Thank you Akimbo.  Thank you ocean and winds and weather.