Leg 3

NZ-Tahiti Leg 3

1 Oct 08

We had a good sail until daylight then the winds became light and variable. We took advantage of the uncertain wind conditions to motor for two hours to charge the batteries. When we run the engine to charge the batteries we like to put it under load by using it to drive the boat. Immediately after the engine run I squirted 5 shots of grease into the grease nipple of the stuffing box (packing gland) on the propeller shaft near the stern tube. I was pleased to see that it was barely warm after the two-hour engine run. I spent an hour cleaning the ice box and refrigerator compartments. Their drains had been blocked so there was some pretty yucky water at the bottom, and some mold in the ice box. Brenda then wiped the fruit and vegetables with a weak solution of bleach. The wind had settled down and we sailed reasonably well into the late afternoon when the wind dropped off and backed to the west forcing us to drop the mainsail and rely on the jib. The night sail was difficult with a light variable wind from various points of the west, a reduced and flapping jib, and boat speed down to about 3 kt.

2 Oct 08

Another milestone: at 1.30 AM we were exactly half way between Opua NZ and Raivavai Fr Polynesia – 1062 nm from each.

Mid-morning we were caught unprepared by a line squall associated with a cold front. Brenda and I had concluded that it was a cold front because the wind change had preceded the advent of rain clouds. The three of us were inside the cabin when the rain started. Arnold started to climb into the cockpit and I started to change into my wet weather gear. Before Arnold reached the companionway step the wind slammed into our reefed main and half-jib broadside and for the next 30 minutes the boat was in chaos. Arnold fought his way to the steering wheel. I knew that I had no time to don my wet weather gear and there was no way that I would allow my precious dry clothes to get wet so I stripped everything off but my underpants and joined him in the cockpit. I didn't even have gloves or shoes on. The boom had flown out unwinding the mainsheet from its blocks. I managed to grab it just in time and haul in the mainsail and cleat it off with the few turns around the blocks still remaining.

We tried to roll in the jib and let it out too fast in the high wind and it got all jammed up. A big fold of the sail had wound the wrong way in the howling wind and now things were bound up so that we could not roll the jib in or out. The big problem was that the sail was flogging frantically and putting a lot of strain on itself and the rigging. Too much of this and something was going to break. By standing on the first rail of the pulpit I could just reach the bottom of the fold but could not budge it. I then figured out that we had to get the wind to do the work. We started the engine and Arnold turned the boat so that the wind would unwind the fold. Even with the help of the wind I barely managed to get the sail untangled by stretching out and using the finger tips of one hand. I shudder to think what would have happened had that effort failed. Fortunately there was no apparent damage to the boat (but plenty to our nerves) and I set up the mainsheet through the blocks with a figure-of-eight knot at the end.

By then I was starting to shiver so I put on my driest wet clothes in stock and felt warmer.

We decided to keep running the engine for two hours to charge the batteries and after about 90 minutes the engine stopped. This was most unusual. Fuel? Couldn't be! We restarted it and Arnold noted that there was no cooling water coming out of the exhaust. We shut the engine down immediately. Then Brenda reported that she could here water cascading into the bilge. I confirmed that and immediately found the through-hull fitting of the engine cooling water intake and shut the valve off. Mercifully the sound of the falling water ceased. I slid back the engine cover and found that a raw water inlet hose had parted from the primary rough water filter. Presumably the clamp had slid down the hose but I didn't bother to look for it. The hose itself was OK so soon I had it back in position with a spare clamp. The engine was very hot so decided to leave it alone to cool off.

Over lunch we had a discussion about the power consumption on the boat. Sure, we have a bank of 920 amp hours and an alternator that can put out 160 amps. The problem was that we were consuming over 250 amps of power a day, meaning that we were being forced to run the engine up to two hours a day. I produced some calculations on our diesel fuel consumption which indicated that unless we curbed our power usage we would have barely enough fuel to make it to Raivavae. Bruce and his mob at Seapower in Opua have done a superb job of transforming the power system of this boat and this is as far as I will take it with Pachuca. (Otherwise what else? Four more large batteries? Another 160-amp alternator?) We've got to live withing our means. For medium-distance coastal cruising we've got enough resources to use all of the power that we want. However, this is a 2000-mile ocean crossing and just about everything must be rationed. Although the autopilot performs superbly the fact is that over 24 hours it does consume a lot of power and we must accept that we must reduce its use on these long crossings. The other area of conservation is the laptop computers, which consume 4 or 5 amps each. We will in future use them judiciously for weather faxes, blogging, etc but certainly not for playing computer games to pass the time.

3 Oct 2008

Since yesterday morning we have been running before a strong wind, often gale force, and big seas. We have been steering the boat by hand almost continuously for more than 24 hours and of course our power consumption has gone down dramatically. The downwind sailing is painful but it is yielding progress of120 miles per day.

4 Oct 2008

Last night we got two weather faxes: the current situation and the prediction for 30 hours from now in the South Pacific. We are now at the leading edge of a giant double High that has been working its way east for days. We had good southerly winds last night and this morning they weakened as expected. However, we have still managing to make over 5 kt with the rolled out jib on a beam reach. The sea is calming down. This morning we are 1300 nm from Opua and 800 nm from Raivavae (or “Ravioli”, as Arnold calls it). We've been making some good times recently: 129 nm on the 27th of Shep, 105 nm on the 28th, 119 nm on the 30th, 137 nm on the 1st of Oct, 85 nm on the 2nd, 127 nm on the 3rd, and 107 nm on the 4th, today. These are noon-to-noon distances. We had one dismal day of 50 nm and I think that may have been on the 29th of Sept

We started the engine at 1400 today for the first time since the overheating episode. We got a scare when Arnold reported no cooling water exiting through the exhaust. I could see activity in the rough water filter. I asked him to kick up the revs and Arnold then saw to blurps of coffee-colored water come out. Thereafter the cooling system seemed to be working as normal. After watching the engine run for a few minutes we slid the cover back on and let the engine run to charge up our batteries.

In Opua we had discussed with Bruce the possibility of replacing the engine water temperature sender. He confirmed that the gauge was working OK but he could not make a definitive statement on the sender until we got the engine temperature right up. Well we got the engine temperature right up OK and still nothing is registering on the gauge. It is no big deal and at least we know for sure now. We'll fix this probably in Seattle – and keep a closer eye on the engine exhaust to make sure that there is cooling water.

We had a scare when we discovered lots of bilge water after the engine run – lots. We would pump out 20 strokes until we were sucking air then 10 minutes later pump out another 20 strokes. We slid back the engine cover and exposed the stern tube and packing gland and to my relief saw no problem. We then restarted the engine and although there was a bit more water dripping from the packing gland than I would like there was no visible evidence of leak to explain the volume of water that we pumped out. Eventually we did manage to pump the bilge dry and confirm that no more water was coming it, so we knew that the boat was safe. Our tentative conclusion is that water had built up in the bilge during our 2 or 3 days of heavy sailing. The water builds up in various sub-floor compartments throughout the boat and takes time to work its way to the main bilge -sort of like the flood plains of a river. Before the next engine run we will pump the bilge as dry as we can and expose the engine and packing gland and watch closely what happens.

We've been having trouble with the Dorade vent over the galley. Well, actually we've been having trouble with all three Dorade vents on the boat and have been forced to cover their air inlets with plastic sheeting and tape. However, we got big gushes down the inlet over the galley during our recent blow and the water traveled up and down the starboard side of the boat along the ceiling and made a nuisance of itself. I had a look today and saw that our plastic and tape measure was still in place. What I think happened is that the aft-pointing inlet of the Dorade acted as a scoop when we got those big boarding seas from our starboard quarter. Allow me to declare to the world in the most unequivocal way that I regard those white plastic “Sea Bird” Dorade vents that can be found on many if not most boats at Fremantle as TOYS THAT HAVE NO PLACE ON A SERIOUS CRUISING BOAT. If I cannot replace these vents with real ones that work or better yet with ones that you can block off with a proper fitting then I will remove the toys and fill in the holes with fiberglass. Too much is at stake here. For example, the port starboard Dorade is almost directly above the Kenwood HF tuner. (grumble ... growl ... grrr ....)

In the late afternoon the wind eased and we dropped all sail at 6 PM. We took advantage of the lull to relax and rest. At about 11.30 PM Arnold woke me up with the news that we had some wind. It wasn't much but we thought that it was enough to sail with so at midnight we rolled out the jib.

5 Oct 2008

Throughout the night the wind got stronger, steadier, and veered toward the West giving us a more comfortable point of sailing. Because we were now almost at longitude 157 degrees West we made our turn from East to NE and are now proceeding as directly for Raivavae as the wind will permit. The sailing was good all morning, running with a full jib on a port tack with a wind of about 20 kt and boat speed 5.5-6.3 kt. The sky has cleared up and the solar panels are delivering a steady 8 amps with the wind charger averaging another amp. We are looking forward to clearer skies in the tropic and equatorial regions and hope to reap 50 amps or more per day from our solar panels and wind charger.

Brenda produced a fine loaf of fresh-backed bread in the morning. The previous day she had baked a yummy cake. And now she has her sprouts factory in full production so that we are getting regular sprinklings of mung bean and radish sprouts with our meals. Very healthy boat.

6 Oct 2008

On this day we advanced the clock one hour to Tahiti time (UT – 10). As planned we exposed the engine and stern tube before our battery-charging run in the morning. During the run I detected water trickling from aft of the stern tube, from the area under the cockpit. I had looked in this area before and knew that the rudder stock did not leak and could not think of another possible cause. Then I came up with the very frightening possibility that the lead was somehow associated with a problem where the skeg (just in front of the rudder, to support the propeller shaft) joined the hull. We shut the engine down and I revisited the sub-cockpit area. Then I saw the cooling water exhaust system which involves hosing, clamps, and a large fiberglass muffler. We restarted the engine and as soon as I opened the door leading to the sub-cockpit area I heard the hiss of steam. A closer look revealed steam and water leaking from the system. Tightening the two hose clamps that I could see did not solve the problem. Fortunately it means that there is no major structural problem putting the boat in peril. As soon as the engine stops running the leak stops. I have a stop cock to the water intake hose. The water exhaust hose has no stop cock but it is above the water line. We cannot get into the exhaust area to do any serious work because now houses two more large batteries from the work in Opua. I'll try to fit a stop cock at the through-hull fitting of the exhaust hose in Tahiti and we will try to hold out until Seattle to do a proper fix.

At noon I was at the navigation station gathering the date for our noon report and I notice a ship on our chart plotter. It was a cargo (container) ship named “Josephine Maersk” bound for Auckland. I hailed it on our VHF radio and explained that this was the first vessel that we had seen in over two weeks at sea and we could not resist the chance to make contact. I asked him where he had come from and he replied Balboa, Panama. I told him that we were bound for Tahiti and after wishing each other good sailing we signed off.

After the benign outcome of our water leak crisis and our human contact I celebrated with a cold beer on deck.

At 1 PM we were 1525 nm from Opua, NZ and 612 nm from Raivavae, Fr Polynesia. At 11PM we were lying ahull due to lack of wind. We knew that we were near the center of a high pressure system and we had been expecting it.

7 Oct 2008

We lay ahull for most of the day. Fortunately we were drifting N/NE at about 1.8 kt in the fair breeze and gently following sea. There may also be a current involved. Somehow Pachuca lays ahull and heaves to broadside to the wind. It was a bright sunny day and the crew took advantage of the day for relaxation and some minor tasks. Arnold did the delicate job of tightening the wiring connections to our electric power monitor, which had been unstable for days. I sealed the cockpit engine instrument displays with silicone sealant. I then went up the mast and replaced the deck light and also managed to lose our only steaming light globe. (Don't ask.) I then went to the top of the mast (while Brenda wasn't looking) and tried to calibrate the wind instrument by manually turning the wind indicator two full revolutions in a slow and controlled manner. That did not work. We will need professional advice on this. The manual is hopeless.

While I was above the second cross tree I heard the chuff of a breathing animal. I yelled down to Arnold “Biological off the starboard bow!” It was a pair of whales about 60 meters from the boat. They were on the surface for only a few seconds then returned to the depths. Arnold saw one of the whales. Brenda was at a critical stage of bread making and unfortunately got to the cockpit too late to see anything.

That night Brenda presented us with the best fillet steak that I've had in years and started to watch “The Bourne Identity” over Cointreau and chocolate. During a break we detected wind and decided that it was promising enough to warrant the hoisting of sail which we did at 11 PM. We had lay ahull exactly 24 hours.

It was a difficult sailing night for Arnold, who took the first watch. The winds were light and variable and the helm was slow to respond. Also, there were dark clouds in the darkness that complicated things.

8 Oct 2008

The wind picked up and shifted at about 3 AM and I came on deck to help Arnold put in the second reef and reduce the jib. The wind kept shifting and we tacked several times because it was generally from the NE, our destination. An hour later we had gone back to the first reef and Arnold retired. I did an accidental tack an hour later and left it at that because I could just manage to sail due East. At dawn I shook out the last reef and we were under full mainsail and no. 2 jib. The wind strengthened and backed slightly and by late morning we were traveling ENE at about 5 kt Brenda relieved me at 7 AM and several hours later I heard Arnold tell Brenda that we were now less than 500 nm from Raivavae.

We lay ahull becalmed for about two hours in the early afternoon. Then a Northerly breeze sprung up that was to gain in strength and maintain a steady direction well into the night.

9 Oct 2008

To Windward

At midnight I woke up to a heavily heeled boat punching through the water a bit too fast. I could hear winches clacking as Arnold rolled in the jib. I looked at the chart plotter and could see that we were still running close hauled on a port tack at about 80 degrees true. When I got on deck Arnold said that the wind had been picking up to 18 and 20 knots. I rolled in more jib from no. 2 to something like a no. 3. After some discussion we agreed that the prudent thing to do was to put in a reef.

Putting a reef when going to windward is relatively easy. Arnold concentrated on steering the boat as close to the wind as possible. I eased the mainsheet so that the mainsail was more or less aligned with the wind and there was little wind pressure on the sail. The strong headwind prevented the boom from jumping around. I then let the clutch off the main halyard and let out three lengths of rope. The idea is to let down just enough sail so that the reefing ring reaches the hook where the boom meets the mast. I then went to the mast to find that the mainsail had dropped by itself and the reefing ring was in position. I slipped the ring on the hook then returned to the cockpit where I manually hauled in the first reefing line then brought it in tighter with one turn of the winch. Then I used the main sheet to bring the boom back toward the center of the boat. I then got a short piece of line and used it as a supplementary reefing line by feeding through a saddle on one side of the boom, inside the stack pack sail cover, over the sail, then down the other side through another saddle. Then I pulled the rope down tight and tied what else but a reefing knot. I then released enough tension off the permanent reefing line that I had over tightened with the winch so that the load was now shared between the two lines. Since I've employed this measure I have had no problems with parting (i.e. Breaking) reefing lines, and if a line does part there will be the second one to take the load.

Down below Arnold discussed the power situation. We had decided not to fire up the engine this day and try to get through the night on 12.2 volts, which became12.1 volts at 8 PM. But because we were going to windward and the apparent wind was over 15 kt the wind charger had managed to not only support our running lights, instruments, and gas sniffer, but also put surplus charge into the batteries. Arnold saw the voltage go to 12.3 volts but had retreated to12.2 volts. We decided to turn the refrigerator back on.

I went back to the wheel, disengaged the autopilot and after a bit of manual steering noticed that there was a tiny bit of weather helm. With a bit of fiddling I managed to lash the wheel in the correct position and Pachuca steered herself.

An hour later I was comfortably stretched across the steering seat, coffee in hand, watching Pachuca punch her own way through the moderate seas at 5 kt, and occasionally looking up at Orion rising over the port bow.

Going to windward in an S&S 39 isn't so bad.

The great sailing lasted until about 5 PM when the wind started to die. Just before dark we dropped all sail, had a pleasant dinner, and took to our bunks for a “normal” night's sleep.