Puddle Jumping

When it comes to understanding the immense size of the Pacific Ocean, traditional world maps do this mighty ocean an injustice. They divide it in half! As if of no consequence, the middle of this vast expanse is diminished and blurred. Frequently, the islands in this middle domain completely disappear as if both they and their surrounding ocean had simply run down a drain, but not entirely lost, they often reappear enclosed within little boxes which the mapmakers place on the map wherever they best see fit. Hawaii and many of the South Pacific Island groups are often depicted this way. How can one comprehend these little islands and their location in this huge expanse of ocean when so much is left to the imagination rather than to concrete observation?   

In defense of the cartographers, it is easy to understand why they have chosen to divide the world in this way. Though there are some 30,000 islands afloat in the Pacific, there really is nothing much of import out there but ocean — and lots of it. Half of all the water in the world is in this ocean. If you were to dig up and dump all the land mass of our planet into this huge bathtub, there would still be enough room for a continent the size of Asia. Think of that! No matter how you look at it, the Pacific Ocean is big, and since those 30,000 or so islands have only occasionally merited attention in the scheme of things worldly, it does make sense that world maps are so divided. Practical and understandable this division may be, but its use is also regrettable, for it has left many with a hazy concept of this vast body of water.

The First Mate is, as might be guessed, one of those with such a hazy concept. It’s out there to the west, and if you keep going far enough you reach such neat places as Australia and New Zealand. Japan and Indonesia are out there, too. It was not until she decided she wanted to give a world map to granddaughter, Berlin, so the child could follow the travels of her wandering grandparents, that she realized the lack of visual clarity a traditional world map gives of the Pacific Ocean and how little she really knew about what she was about to do. It took a bit of searching to find a world map showing the Pacific Ocean in the center of things until finally The Captain found he could special order one from a map store in Scottsdale. Studying that map was an eye-opening event! The Pacific Ocean from one side to the other is triple the distance across the whole United States! It’s huge. The knowledge that we were going to sail this expanse, that she had pushed for us to sail this expanse, gave her chills.  

In cruiser vernacular, we are doing the “Puddle Jump”. We are going to cross the Pacific Ocean, and the undertaking of the first passage of 3,000nm (give or take a few here and there) is called the Puddle Jump. The jump off point is anywhere along the western coast of the Americas that suits one’s fancy, and the end destination is usually the Marquesas Islands, though Hawaii works equally well especially for those jumping from San Francisco or further north. For us, the start will be Academy Bay, Santa Cruz Island in the Galapagos. Our destination is Tahauku Bay, Hiva Oa Island, in the Marquesas. With the normally favorable Trade Winds, we estimate a passage of 18 – 21 days. We have planned for much longer and do not expect any shorter.

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She cannot explain what it is that motivates her to want to cruise and explore aboard our little boat. She does know her life would be far less without this adventure in it, and she also knows that these thoughts echo repeatedly in everyone of us out there cruising the oceans. She also understands why others shake their heads and wonder “why?” See the world — yes — but why would anyone want to circumnavigate the planet in a small wind-driven machine that was abandoned as a useful form of global transportation over a hundred years ago? She understands those thoughts, but still …. 

The Puddle Jump Begins:

Day 1 – Saturday, April17th 

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We start right in with the watch schedule. The First Mate has the first watch from 1200 to 1500. Feeling invigorated, she steers the whole 3 hours. Avante is sailing beautifully, and it feels great to be at the helm. She could sail like this forever! That evening we have wahoo for dinner which Tom had bought at the local fishermen’s co-op in town. Of course, we fully expect to catch our own on this passage. It’s a big ocean out there, and it’s full of fish!

During the 2-hour 2100 to 2300 watch, she is again enchanted by the large white birds flying just off the bow of the boat. Tom tells her that they are not boobies as she had thought. They are Swallow-tailed Gulls, the only nocturnal gulls in the world. They feed offshore at night, and by flying off the bow of the boat, they are able to see the small fish brought to the surface by the boat’s wake. In her Galapagos book, she read that they have a wide range of distinctive calls, including a piercing scream and a very unusual rattle. The scream is not heard, but the rattle, which sounds like a beak chattering, is frequently heard, especially when 2 or more birds are out there competing for food. Watching those birds and the night sky so full of unfamiliar stars, as well as a few old friends, help move the hands around the clock.  It is peaceful and so very pleasant. Again, she thinks that she could sail like this forever.

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2400 – Captain’s Daily Report: (12 hours only, noon to midnight):   Raised sail right out of harbor and still sailing! South Equatorial Current adding about 1/2 knot of speed.

• Under Sail:  78nm       

• Engine:  4nm       

• Total:  82nm Passage Total:  82nm

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Day 2 – Sunday, April 18th

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The first few days at sea are the hardest, as the body and mind adjust to the motion of the boat and the demands of the watch schedule. Sleep when you can, if you can, is initially a guiding principle. The First Mate finds herself unable to sleep well and is not waking up refreshed. Avante, however, is sailing easily making 8 – 9 knots in a slightly increasing wind.

1030 – A good-sized fish is snagged but quickly lost. The First Mate is somewhat relieved, for with a full freezer and refrigerator, she has no idea where she could have put the fish.  

1550 – Jarred out of a nap by the sound of voices that do not belong to the men on her boat, The First Mate is sure she is hearing things. Pulling herself up off the bed, she looks out the port window to see three fishermen in a small panga with a single outboard motor. This must be an apparition! We are 135nm from shore! What are these guys doing out here? Didn’t their mothers teach them anything? Apparently, these three think the same of us, for they are very agitated at our presence and are yelling at us to divert so we do not run through the long lines of neatly spaced, baited hooks they have set out for their catching of fish. We quickly change direction. Disaster averted;  yet we remain astounded by their presence. There is no way they could return to land by nightfall. They must overnight in that small boat. How many nights do they stay out? What if their single motor were to fail? More importantly, what do they do with the fish they catch? They can’t drag them behind the boat, for that would just be offering up shark bait. How do they keep the fish fresh? It’s a mystery to us, but we would love to catch just one of those fish they’re seeking!

In the early evening, we see clouds building. After another wahoo dinner, the guys go to bed while The First Mate stands the 1800 to 2100 watch. Monitoring by radar a line of squalls running around us, we manage to miss them or they miss us. That doesn’t keep us out of the winds, though, as she watches them build to 22 knots. Avante is sailing well, though The First Mate is not totally comfortable. This squall stuff is new sailing to her. When Tom relieves her at 2100, she is unable to head to bed, for more squalls have appeared on the radar. With increased winds and rougher seas, The Captain joins his crew. With two able souls on watch, The First Mate heads to bed, but unable to sleep, she listens to the rain, wind and seas until things begin to settle down. Then, she sleeps.

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Day 2 – Captain’s Daily Report:  Evening squalls with heavy seas and winds. All delighted with a 200 nm day!

• Under Sail:  200nm       

• Engine:  0       

• Total:  200nm Passage Total:  282nm

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Day 3 – Monday, April 19th

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Out of a deep sleep, she is wakened by a crashing boom. The noise vibrating down the mast, which is right near her sleeping head, is horrendous. What is going on? We have hit a lull in between the squalls. Wind is down to 4 knots. Things should be peaceful. It is peaceful, so peaceful that the wind just isn’t enough to hold the main sail out in the choppy seas still churned up by the squalls. The boom is crashing back and forth with sails a-flapping as Avante rocks across the waves. Joining The Captain on deck, we turn on the engine and lower the main sail to motor on in the light winds. It’s almost 0100, time for her next watch. Two hours — just two hours. She can do this. By 0300 we are out of the squalls, the sails are back up and the engine is off. Tom relieves her, and completely exhausted now, she heads back to bed in hopes of a good sleep. 

She wakes up shortly before 0700 and the start of her next watch. Laying there, it feels like Avante is flying. Looking over at the meter near our bed, she sees that we are doing 10 knots. Wow! Rising quickly and carefully, for the seas are also up and rolling, she gets dressed to assume the watch. It is not a pretty day. A dark and broken cloud layer presses down on us. Though there are no squalls, it certainly looks stormy. Instead we run in and out of occasional light rain. The worse part is the seas. A 6-foot and higher swell is hitting us broadside at frequent intervals with confused and angry waves knocking us about in between the rolls from the swells. What a mess!

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All day, we run in 18 – 24 knot winds with these heavy mixed-up seas. There is no fishing today. Not only are we going too fast for a fish to bite the hook, in these rough seas, we would be risking life and limb hauling the beast aboard.  

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Tonight’s dinner is Spaghetti Carbonara with an attempt at Garlic Bread made from Bimbo Bread. Yes, there is a product called Bimbo Bread, and its very name tells it all. The First Mate first saw it in Mexico, but it was also ubiquitous in the Galapagos. Crew Mate Tom assures her that it is widespread throughout South America. One would think these lesser developed countries would deem the making of a good bread to be of prime importance. After all, bread is the staff of life, right? Apparently not, for shelves are lined with row upon row of plastic-wrapped Bimbo Bread. Think of what we knew as Wonder Bread in the States only conger it up much softer in texture and with little detectable taste. Its one saving grace from a cruiser’s perspective is that it lasts forever and ever, and it does not need refrigeration. It does not grow mold. What is it made of anyway? When stocking up in the Galapagos, the choice was Bimbo Bread or no bread. So we have Bimbo Bread, and The First Mate is determined to make it work. Garlic Bread à la Bimbo. Each toasted slice looks perfect with a golden center surrounded by lightly browned edges. The garlic butter smells delicious. We bite into our golden morsels and chew — and chew. We cannot open our mouths. We cannot talk. We cannot smile. Bimbo Bread is stuck to our teeth! Sod-like balls are diabolically glued to our teeth. Politely we move our tongues around trying to release the sticky mess. We dig and wiggle into and around molars and gums attempting to dislodge the paste. When all such efforts fail, fingers are employed. That’s it for Garlic Bread à la Bimbo. That may even be it for Bimbo Bread all together! Whoever created this ought to be pummeled with sodden, sticky balls of the stuff!

The 1100 to 0100 watch is hers, and is she glad we put in that reef! Winds are steady between 19 – 25 knots, and we’re sailing along at 10 – 11 knots. Except for the steep rolling swells coming in about every few seconds heeling us one way and the confused seas pitching us another, it would be an invigorating, fantastic ride, but it is not. It is a body-straining, energy-sapping, hold on and brace yourself ride. She definitely could not sail this way forever!

Her beautiful, graceful birds are nowhere to be seen. How she misses them! Like huge white doves, they circled the boat and kept her company. She guesses that we are finally too far from land for them. She wonders if they migrated as far as the Marquesas. Would they meet us as we near landfall and welcome us to that land?

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Day 3 – Captain’s Daily Report: A very uncomfortable day endured by all with nighttime squalls chasing us. However, significant mileage was gained with a continued assist of 1/2 knot from the South Equatorial Current that The Captain has been able to follow.

• Under Sail:  196nm   

• Engine:  24nm   

• Total:  220nm Passage Total:  502nm

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Day 4 – Tuesday, April 20th

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0500 – Conditions remain the same: high winds (20 – 25 knots), huge swell with confused seas. On her watch, The First Mate looks for 2 stars that she has been watching for several nights. They rise in the sky following the Southern Cross. They are close together and appear to have an almost invisible line connecting them. To The First Mate, they look like eyes, and by connecting the dots with other near-by stars, she pictures a chipmunk. She points it out to The Captain, who cannot quite see it, but that’s okay. Even when she has a constellation book in hand and is gazing directly up at a group of stars that at some distant time reminded somebody so much of something that the imagined design was given the name of that something, she most often cannot see what they saw. So, it is okay that The Captain does not see what she sees. She figures that her two stars are so prominent that they must be part of some constellation, but she cannot find them in the constellation book. That’s okay, too, for, to her, they are The Chipmunk, and she knows she’ll see them at some point every night unless a squall line is covering them from view.

A second miserable day is endured. The First Mate feels sore, achey, crabby and lethargic. She is tired of being thrown around the boat. At 1700, the second reef is put in to prepare for the night ahead. Strangely, winds seem to increase as evening approaches and stay that way most of the night. So much for the notion that winds tend to drop with the setting sun! 

It’s time to get going on dinner, and The First Mate is stumped. It is hard to get inspired when dinner must come out of one pot. After watching last night’s juggling of pots on the stove using a totally inadequate system provided by the manufacturer of the stove to keep the pots in place, the guys (both of an engineering background) decide to act before she burns herself or before the dinner is pitched to the deck. With ingenuity and wires, they rig up a secure system for one straight-sided soup pot, and she is told to limit dinner preparations to this one lonely pot.

What to make for dinner? Yuck, do we even have to eat? Scanning her food spreadsheet for inspiration, she notes an eggplant that probably should be used as well as a few tomatoes. Italian sausage has been thawed. She’s going to make an “Ishkabibble”! This was a term her mother used for the concoctions she threw together from odds and ends in the refrigerator. (Mother was of the “Waste not, Want not” and “Remember the starving kids in China” generation.) An Ishkabibble is kind of a casserole with no recipe and doomed never to be duplicated again. Tonight’s gourmet delight is an Ishkabibble of Sausage, Eggplant, Tomatoes and Rice served in green plastic doggy bowls. Hold on tight, and good luck getting fork to mouth with the food still on it! A spoon is better suited to the task.

After dinner, two quickly retire to bed. Lying flat even on a rolling bed is the preferred body position, at least for The First Mate. A third stands watch. It is turning into a miserable night. Everyone is being kept awake or rudely awakened by sudden lurches and rolls. This knocking about is doing no one any good.

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Day 4 – Captain’s Daily Report: A truly miserable day and night.  Steep and confused seas, heavy wind. Unable to do much but endure as we continue what feels like a race to the Marquesas.  

• Under Sail:  239nm       

• Engine:  0nm           

• Total:  239nm Passage Total:  741nm

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Day 5 – Wednesday, April 21st

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0130 – The Captain furls the jib. We are now sailing under just the double-reefed mainsail, which The Captain hopes will give us all a gentler, though slower, ride. Not knowing how much longer these big seas and heavy winds will be with us, The Captain decides that crew comfort (his included) are worth more in the long run than breaking records arriving in the Marquesas.

0830 – The wind remains in the 20’s, yet the double-reefed main still has us making 8 knots. That’s an acceptable speed. The Captain changes the compass heading to 285° from 255°, and though it has us heading diagonally across and north of our rhumb line, the change in direction angles Avante so that the swells hit us more from behind rather than broadside.

0900 – For The First Mate on watch, the ride is more comfortable and more peaceful than she has seen in days. This “more comfortable” and “more peaceful” are, however, a matter of degrees. It is still a lumpy, jerky, lurching, hold-on-tight ride, and definitely not anything The First Mate would want to sail forever.

1600 – The First Mate wakes from a nap to hear the generator go on and then very shortly go off. Something is wrong. She quickly gets up and finds out that when The Captain had turned on the generator, he did not like the sound of the motor. He ran to the rear of the boat to check whether the system was spitting out water. It was not. Quickly, he returned below to turn off the generator before it overheated. This is not a good sign, and all is quiet on the boat as all but essential systems are shut down to save battery power.

Turning off the autopilot, the First Mate takes over the helm . Since our batteries were already low which was the reason the generator had been turned on, we now have to conserve the remaining battery power until The Captain can repair the generator. Everything stored in the third stateroom is unloaded into the main cabin so The Captain can crawl into its recesses and get to the barely accessible generator.

The problem is a cracked impeller. The Captain knows he has several spares, but the first impeller he pulls out turns out to be the impeller for the engine. More searching turns up the generator impeller, but the shaft key on the replacement is not the same, so the impeller does not fit. With a little finagling, things are made to fit, and somehow, The Captain manages to get everything back together on our rolling, pitching boat without losing the tiny screws that hold the impeller in place. We are back in business at 1840. Disaster averted.

Into the evening and night, we play a game with our compass headings and our comfort. 285° gives us a smoother ride. 255° gets us to our destination but gives us a bashing. On her 0100 watch, The First Mate studies the Nav charts and realizes that if we continue on the current heading of 285°, we are going to end up in Japan! She changes the heading by degrees to 255° so that we are again running parallel to our rhumb line. The bounce, roll and flopping of the sails is unacceptable. Back she goes to 285°. She has always known she was not cut out to be a racing sailor. She now knows this for sure. She likes smooth, easy and peaceful sailing in winds between 14 – 16 knots. That’s what she thought she had read to expect out here. What happened?

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Day 5 – Captain’s Daily Report:  Seas remain up. Sailing north of rhumb line for an easier ride.

• Under Sail:  200nm       

• Engine:  0nm       

• Total:  200nm Passage Total:  941nm

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Day 6 – Thursday, April 22nd

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The day dawns grey with rain squalls nearby and with lumpy, bumpy seas. Yuck! By mid-morning it is sunny. Winds are still high, and even with a single- or double-reefed sail, we continue to make great time. We covered the first 1000 miles in 4 days and 19 hours averaging better than 200 miles a day!

Day 6  – Captain’s Daily Report: A third of the trip is over! 

• Under Sail:  211nm       

• Engine:  0nm       

• Total:  211 Passage Total:  1152nm

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Even though we have traveled well over 1000nm since leaving the Galapagos, when one looks at our position on a world map, it is surprising to note that we are only just slightly west of Telluride, longitudinally speaking. The First Mate finds this hard to believe, but when she draws a line straight north from Avante, the line passes just west of Telluride. Again, The First Mate is struck by just how far east the Mexican coast veers as one heads south down it and how much further east we had sailed to arrive in the Galapagos.

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Day 7 – Friday, April 23rd

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0500 – It is hard for The First Mate to rise from a prone position to get up for her watch. The lurching and jerking of the counter-waves and swells make the body feel heavy with tired, spastic limbs. This 2-hour watch from 0500 to 0700, however, is one of her favorite watches because it really is beautiful to watch the night sky recede as the sun slowly clears the horizon. Though we have crossed more than one time zone in our westerly travels, we have not adjusted our clocks. At 0600, it is a pitch black star-studded night. That’s nice, but there is not even a hint of light in the east. At 0700, the sun is only a faint suggestion below the horizon. Instead of feeling energized by what normally is the brightening light of a dawning day, The First Mate still feels the night, ends her watch and heads to bed. She notices that this later start to the day has changed the pattern of the morning for all aboard. Instead of everyone up and about around 0730 or so looking for breakfast, we are all sleeping longer in the morning and not showing up for breakfast until 0900 or later.  

Despite the uncomfortable ride, we are clicking off the miles quite nicely with no extra consumption of fuel other than what the generator needs to charge the batteries. The Captain is quite pleased. He announces that if we continue at our current rate of miles/gallon, we have enough fuel to go another 10,000 miles, and The First Mate, who has no intention of going another 10,000 uncomfortable miles, asks him what he intends to do for food. Fish?    

Winds have dropped to under 20 knots, but seas continue with short, steep swells hitting us at 5-second intervals. If only the seas would settle.

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Day 7 – Captain’s Daily Report: Sunny day with squalls at night. Rough unsettled seas with winds 19 – 21 knots.  

• Under Sail:  207nm       

• Engine:  0nm       

• Total:  207nm Passage Total:  1359nm

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Day 8 – Saturday, April 24th

Still rocking and rolling, but everyone seems to have caught up on their sleep and has begun to accept this abusive motion as a way of life. The guys even put out the fishing line, though the conditions are the same as the ones that had caused them to bring the line in days ago.

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The guys cook Dorado steaks for dinner while The First Mate stands the 1800 watch. If this is what is going to happen when we catch a fish, she definitely wants more fish!

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Day 8 – Captain’s Daily Report: We are half-way there! Caught our first fish.

• Under Sail:  208       

• Engine:  0       

• Total:  208nm        Passage Total:  1567nm

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Day 9 – Sunday, April 25th

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We may be out in the middle of nowhere hundreds of miles from the nearest land and surrounded by a goofy-waved Pacific Ocean, but we still have to take care of the mundane things of everyday life. In such conditions, however, the mundane becomes a challenge and calls forth a creative spirit.

The innovative wiring of the stove top which enabled The Chef to keep one soup pot securely in place is working like a charm, though The Chef is less than charmed by one-pot meals. Son Eric had given her a wonderful little cookbook entitled “The One Pan Galley Gourmet”. It does have some very interesting recipes in it, many of which call for healthy fresh ingredients, but we are now down to a few soft carrots, tomatoes, onions, a cabbage, potatoes and a few bits of odds and ends. The fresh herbs are long gone, and her experiment with frozen pesto did not work in a freezer that does not freeze very well. This calls for a higher level of creativity. Each dinner now is an Ishkabbible. Did The First Mate mention that she really, really dislikes casseroles? However … a slow-cooked French Cassoulet … well, that’s an entirely different and elevating experience. An Ishkabbible Casserole laced with a starchy rice or pasta filler calls forth no such excitement. She cannot believe it, but she is bored with cooking!

Cleanliness, as in one’s abode, clothes and self, is something that is so everyday mundane that one just does it and does not really think about it. On a boat, one does think about it, for the doing of it often requires a bit of re-thinking. Keeping the boat clean and in order is a constant task. As a boating friend of ours, Bob Trenary, often says, “Every thing has a place.  Every place has a thing.” Keeping a boat neat and organized with everything put away in its place is half the battle to keeping it clean. The other half is the scrubbing and wiping and chasing of dust and grease that invariably build up while living in a confined and often enclosed space. Fortunately, both The Captain and The First Mate are by nature compulsively organized, and since mess and dirt drive The First Mate to distraction, keeping the boat clean on a day-to-day basis, though a pain, does come naturally. A little each day keeps the task manageable.

Cleaning of self is not so easy. At least not on a careening boat, it isn’t. Now that we are in the tropics and enduring the tropical heat and sun all day long, we all look forward to our evening shower on the stern of the boat. The two men seem to have no problem staying perched on the helmsman’s seat and showering themselves down with the hose. The First Mate finds it impossible. She slips and slides on the soapy seat, and after an uncontrolled slide across the whole length of the seat only to be stopped from being tossed into the sea by the narrow railing that almost painfully amputated her toes, she decides she had better come up with a safer shower location.

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Fortunately, things dry quickly, though not quickly enough to beat a squall bearing down on us. Clothes are taken off the lines, and in doing so, it is maddeningly apparent by the sticky feel of everything that more than one rinsing was needed to remove the not-so-clever salt water wash.

Not able to face bending over that bucket again, The First Mate rinses her almost dry wash in the galley sink. It takes an additional two rinses to get all the salt out, and by the time she is done, her fingers look permanently pruned. Oh, would she love to tell the authors of this insane salt water wash idea exactly what she thinks of their idea!

The final insulting impact of the salt water wash is realized as she starts to prepare dinner. There is no water. We are out of water! No one, including the perpetrator of this stupid idea, thought about how much of our precious water was being used. No one, including the perpetrator of this stupid idea, thought to check the water guage. We do have the second water tank full of water, but The Captain refuses to use that! It is filled with decent-quality treated water from Puerto Vallarta, and he is saving that for an emergency.  (Dinner prep is not considered an emergency, even in his book!) Instead, we are using just one tank and replenishing it as needed with water from the water maker. The Captain’s reasoning is that water from the sea will thus not end up sitting in the tanks for a long time and possibly going stale. The Captain is now anything but pleased. The First Mate is told to use one of the gallon water jugs we have aboard (also for an emergency) and to be miserly until the water maker fills the tank. Let’s see … 7 gallons of fresh water trickles out of the water maker per hour. The tank is 80 gallons. We have a number of hours to go! 

At this point, just to make life more interesting, the generator acts up again.  It doesn’t sound right.  The motor is not running evenly.  Again the spare cabin is unloaded. Again The Captain sweats out his own personal gallons of water as he crawls into the recesses and hidden crannies where the generator lives to try to figure out what the problem is. A simple, little wire of important consequence had come loose. Wire re-wired. We’re back in business and back to dinner at 2030.

2300 – The First Mate assumes the watch at 2300. More squalls …. What a day!

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Day 9 – Captain’s Daily Report: Same miserable conditions, but still crossing off the miles.

• Under Sail:  213nm       

• Engine:  0nm       

• Total:  213nm Passage Total:  1780nm

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Day 10 – Monday, April 26th

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On the 0500 watch again, The First Mate is distressed to discover that it has become another dark-of-the-night watch. At the end of her watch at 0700, it is still pitch black with absolutely no sign of approaching day. She heads off to bed, and with the knowledge that her next watch does not begin until noon, she sleeps until after 9:00. When she meanders into the galley at 10:00, she is surprised to observe that neither man has had breakfast. Everybody is getting thrown out of wrack by the late start to the day. If they do not eat breakfast until 10:00, when do they want lunch? Do they want lunch? What about dinner? At this rate, we’ll end up eating dinner at midnight! This will never do. She suggests to The Captain that we do a little time adjustment. He is not too happy with the idea. He wants to wait until we arrive in the Marquesas to make one big time adjustment! Apparently there are a number timed devices onboard that have to be reset, and The Captain has to get out the manuals to remember how to reset some of them. Not at all sympathetic to his clocks and his resetting issues, The First Mate insists that her internal clock will be a mess if we continue like this. He finally agrees to a one hour change at noon today with a similar change to occur in a few days. A final time change will be done when we reach our destination.

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1200 – Winds have been decreasing. For the first time in days, we remove the second reef. The seas have also settled down to a well-mannered rolling swell. We attribute this calming of the seas to having finally ridden out of the current that had been giving us a nice lift west. The east to west current was interacting with the SE to NW swell producing the confused, choppy seas. Whatever … The First Mate does not care. For her, life aboard the S/V Avante is looking up. We may miss the current which probably gave us 15 to 20nm per day, but we will not miss its bumpy ride.

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Day 10 – Captain’s Daily Report: A very comfortable sailing day. Caught a Skipjack Tuna. Thank you, King Neptune. Please send us another. We really are most appreciative.

• Under Sail:  194nm       

• Engine:  1nm   

• Total:  195nm Passage Total:  1975nm

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Day 11 – Tuesday, April 27th

0330 – Captain’s Log:  “We have covered 2000nm since the Galapagos in 9 days and 17 hours. We have averaged over 200nm per day.”  

The First Mate’s Log: “Not bad!”

0440 – Captain’s Log: “We are exactly 1000nm from Hiva Oa in the Marquesas.”  

The First Mate’s Log: “Keep on truck’n, Avante!”

0700 – With winds down to 16 knots and boat motion reduced to a gentle rocking, we finally shake out the first reef.

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We are all on the lookout for another boat, and the closer we get to the Marquesas, the greater our chances are with other boats out there converging on the same group of islands. We have not seen another living soul since those 3 fishermen in their panga on our second day out. Frankly, though a boat would be nice, even a sea bird would do. This ocean is truly a vast empty space. Even the flying fish have disappeared. We assume there is a teaming sea life under our keel, but we see no evidence of it. The ocean is moving and swelling around us, but there is a barren feeling. Perhaps we feel this because we know how very far from any land we are. Whatever the cause, we are all searching the horizon for evidence of another group of souls out there plying the same ocean as we are right now, this very minute.

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Day 11 – Captain’s Daily Report: Lovely, peaceful, calm sailing, though distance covered is decreasing.

• Under Sail:  174nm       

• Engine:  0nm                                    

• Total:  174nm Passage Total:  2149nm

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Day 12 – Wednesday, April 28th

1210 – We hear another boat on the VHF but cannot spot it on the horizon. The boat is Bamboozle from England.

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Day 12 – Captain’s Daily Report: Another lovely day! First boat sighting.

• Under Sail:  166nm       

• Engine:  0nm       

• Total:  166nm Passage Total:  2315nm

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Day 13 –  Thursday, April 29th

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0830 – Another boat sighting. Imada out of Germany, heading to Hiva Oa.

1030 – First transfer of fuel from 2 auxiliary tanks goes well, but a large amount of crud remains in the bottom of the tanks from the fuel we loaded so precariously in the Galapagos. We’ll just have to hope the fuel filter holds up until The Captain has a chance to clean it.

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Day 13 – Captain’s Daily Report: Another lovely day! Winds steady at 11 – 15 knots. Second boat sighting.

• Under Sail:  167nm       
• Engine:  0nm       
• Total:  167nm Passage Total:  2482nm

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Day 14 – Friday, April 30th

Winds are erratic most of the night. They drop below 4 knots, and just before The Captain starts to take down the mainsail, they go up to 6 – 10 knots making us barely sailable. A passing squall at 0400 drives them up to 25 brisk knots, but by early morning, wind conditions give us a steady 13 – 17 knots. We are sailing at a smooth 8 knots.

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0945 – Zing! Fish on, but we lose him close to the boat. King Neptune has not forgiven us for throwing back his offering.

1115 – Hailed by Vilisor out of British Columbia. They are sailing under a greatly shortened sail due to a problem with their rigging and making only about 2 knots SOG. At that rate, will they ever see land? They quickly assure us that they are fine and have plenty of food and water. Rapidly, we pass them and lose them on the horizon, thankful that we are not them wallowing around out there and soberly aware that given all the high-tension parts on a sailboat, their plight could just as easily be ours.

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Day 14 – Captain’s Daily Report: Another absolutely delightful day of sailing west with the Trade Winds! 

• Under Sail:  177nm       
• Engine:  0nm       
• Total:  177nm Passage Total:  2659nm

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Day 15 – Saturday, May 1st

We are getting so close, so tantalizingly close. Still several hundred miles from land, we spot our first frigate birds, gliding and swooping gracefully overhead. Land is near. When we will spot it?  

1840 – Zing! We haul in a small tuna. It’s not big, but it’s a keeper. The First Mate believes it is a sign that King Neptune is working his way to forgiving us our earlier dumb faux-pas. 

Day 15 – Captain’s Daily Report:  Just an absolutely terrific day and night of sailing, dampened only by the fact that we are all eager to arrive and get our feet on land.

• Under Sail:  168nm       
• Engine:  0nm       
• Total:  168nm Passage Total:  2827nm

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Day 16 – Sunday, May 2nd

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Winds have been decreasing, and we are working the sails to keep speed up. Our goal is to get to harbor in daylight tomorrow. In order to do that, we must average 6 knots.

0800 – Clear skies, but wind is under 12 knots from the east.  We are only making 5 knots.  Not good!

0915 – A cargo ship is spotted heading east.  We must be back in the shipping lanes. This is the first freighter we have seen since leaving the Mexican coast.

1200 – We are 160nm from Hiva Oa. So near and yet so far away!

1300 – Spinnaker Time! Beautiful sail, but not The First Mate’s favorite. The first attempt to raise it fails when an internal connection inside the snuffer breaks dumping sail into the water and sending the snuffer flying. A mad scramble to pull everything back on board before it tangles under boat and around the prop is the result.  

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Land — land — When will we spot it? We can almost smell it!

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Day 16 – Captain’s Daily Report: Almost, almost there!

• Under Sail:  152nm        
• Engine: 
• Total:  152nm Passage Total:  2979nm

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Day 17 – Monday, May 3rd

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Winds, which were high and favorable for so much of our passage, drop significantly as we close in on Hiva Oa. The skies have clouded, and the channel passage between Mohotani and Hiva Oa is darkened with storm clouds and a churned-up, white-capped sea. With sails flopping around right now and a nasty channel to cross prior to the harbor entrance, we decide that enough is enough. We have made it. We take down our sails and motor our last few miles into the harbor.

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As we enter the bay, The First Mate smells flowers. It is just a faint smell. Is it her imagination? No, it is definitely there! We have arrived at our first Polynesian Island Paradise!

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1440 – The Captain’s Log: “Anchored in the Marquesas!”

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For all three aboard the S/V Avante, we have completed one of the longest ocean crossings normally done by cruisers. The Puddle Jump, The Big Pond, all 3000+ nautical miles of it.

Do we feel good? You bet!

Would we do it again? You bet! But not today. Today we begin our exploration of “Paradise.”

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 As if to welcome us to their island, a local outrigger team exits the harbor and races by Avante on their way out for their afternoon practice. We feel like we have been given official Island Greetings!

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Passage Summary

• 16 Days (Saturday, April 17th to Monday, May 3rd)
• 3070 total nm
• Sailed 3029 of those miles
• Motored 41 of those miles