Day 14 - Becalmed Then Near Gale

At 5.30 PM I was forced to drop all sail. The inevitable rolling started so I took the usual measure of lashing both the wheel and the Monitor with shock cord to prevent excessive stress and wear. The sky was overcast and all around the horizon I could see rainfall. I was convinced that I was in the "monsoon trough" even though according to the weather fax it should have been another 2 degrees south. This put me in the thin band of the Inter Tropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ)also known as "the doldrums". Jimmy Cornell describes it thus: "The winds in this area are either light or non-existent and the weather is sultry and hot. The only interruptions are occasional squalls and thunderstorms, when rain can be very heavy." I felt pretty low, fearing the worst, but there was nothing to be done but attend to other things while I waited for the wind. I had the last of the latest stew for dinner then saw "The Changeling" with Angelina Jolle and John Malkovich for the first time and enjoyed it very much.

Halfway through the movie I visited the cockpit and saw a bit of wind - 9 knots maybe. When becalmed I've been fooled too many times by teasers that get me going only to leave me with flapping sails and wasted time and energy. I finished the movie, put everything away, then went back on deck and saw that this wind was the real McCoy. I freed the wheel and then Jeff, dropping his water paddle into the water. Then I did a very slow gybe to point the boat south with the wind from the port side, rolled out some headsail, and we were on our way. I let Vistar the autopilot do the steering while I am setting sails and getting underway. I rolled out the full headsail then switched to Jeff for wind steering, which I consider more reliable in anything but light airs because it never disengages and always follows the wind. Anyway, we were doing 4 knots but I wanted more, which meant raising the mainsail at night.

I had a go because I only needed to raise the sail to the second reef point and because there was pretty good visibility with the moonlight passing through the clouds. The first thing I did was to visit the mast and drop both lazy jacks. Then I hardened the headsail and steered as much into the wind as possible, let out the boom, and managed to raise the mainsail on the run to the second reef point. Just like that we were beating to the south at over 5 knots. I could hardly believe it after our hours of wallowing. It was 12.30 AM but I wasn't tired. I'd gladly stay up all night for a wind like this.

But sailing is full of surprises. The wind kept gaining strength and an hour later I rolled the headsail to about a no. 2. I managed to get a bit of sleep while the boat seemed to ride rougher and rougher. At 3.30 AM I got up and saw that the wind was in the mid 20's so I rolled in half of what had been showing of the headsail. Things kept getting worse and at 5 AM I was looking at wind in the high 20's with gusts to 32 and 33 knots. Pachuca was punching into the wind at over 7 kt at times, but the agitation and noise were phenomenal. Then the cord that held in the contents of the book case broke and everything, including the world globe, fortunately got a soft landing on the empty port setee that had its lee cloth up. By then various lockers were stuffed with sheets and towels to prevent the violent sliding back and forth of crockery, pots and pans, food, etc. But enough was enough. Much as I wanted to make haste to the equator I thought it prudent to ease up on the hull and rigging, which had yet to take me a long way. I rolled in the jib and thereafter it was more like being hove to, with the double reefed mainsail giving us some drive and stability and Jeff managing to steer the boat into the wind. We were making about 2.5 kt to the south, so I wasn't too upset about the situation.

Before shortening sail I spent several minutes watching Pachuca's bow doing about 7 kt in the rough seas. Generally it stayed well above the water. Once in a while it would pitch into a trough and the water would fly off either side of the bow the way it is supposed to, rather than digging into the wave as before. Shifting the anchor and chain seems to have paid big dividends and it's too bad that it had taken a sail half way around the world for me to figure it out.

I was up at 7.45 AM for the usual routine and while listening to Don Anderson and the Amigo Net I noted that the wind speed had dropped to 10-15 kt. Soon I had the headsail rolled out modestly to a no. 2 and we were making 4.8 knots to the SW. There was another squall in progress while I did this and I would wait until the wind settled down before deciding what to do about our heading.

I had been smelling diesel fuel all night from the port set of deck containers. Something gave way - probably a vent plug - but investigation would have to await better conditions.

And the wind charger came into its own. The voltage of the house bank went from 12.4 to 12.5 during the night and I noticed near dawn that the unit was freewheeling because it had overheated. (At the time of this writing it is putting out an average of about 2 amps in the 12 kt apparent wind, but I've seen it go to over 15 A in a gale.)

Neither the wind-wave weather fax nor the grib file for this area gave any indication of winds more than a desultory 6 knots. I had been expecting a night as described by Jimmy Cornell above, but instead I got a near gale.

At 9 AM we were at latitude 11S. We were directly west of the border, moving into the latitude of Costa Rica.

Late in the morning the wind veered and the boat was on a heading of 230T. However, my actual COG was a full 20 degrees to the west. The boat is probably being affected by a current set to SE that follows the path of the SE trade winds. There was no point in moaning about it because that's sailing and sometimes you gain, sometimes you lose.

At 11.30 AM I heard the humming of an engine. It appeared to be a large fishing boat. I turned on my VHF radio in case they wanted to communicate, then I switched on the radar and saw that they were 6 miles away. At about this time the wind became impossible so I started the engine, pointed the boat south, then rolled in the headsail. This would be a triple utilitarian run: charge the batteries, get me some distance, and see if the Red Dot heater could dry a set of underclothes. (I'd keep a very close eye on those clothes lest a fire gets started.)

At noon we were at 10N55, 13W43, for a dismal noon-noon distance of 52 miles.

I ran the engine for 2.3 hours (113.3 total) during which time I put the boat heater on "high" and dried two sets of under clothes. The heater is marvelous, with the warmth and dryness that it brings into the cabin. After an engine run I found that the sea had calmed enough and the feeble wind was just barely strong enough to keep the sails more or less filled on a beat. For the rest of the afternoon the boat took care of itself headed SW at 2.5 kt. This was good because it allowed me to have a short nap and do some chores.

The big chore was to top up the diesel tanks. I figure that I'd take advantage of the dry weather and calm sea to do the job. The task was made much easier and with less waste using that marvelous plastic pump that Bob Carroll gave to me just before I left La Paz. (Thanks Bob!) Otherwise I don't know how I would have been able to manage to life 20 liters of diesel with enough control to pour it into the Baja filter in the rocking boat. I put in 48 liters to cover 20.6 running hours, yielding an average consumption of 2.3 liters per hour. My fuel consumption has been relatively high, but I'm not too worried because the engine was required to exit the Sea of Cortez, keep the refrigerator going in the heat, and now getting through the doldrums. Once I've crossed the equator and found the fabled SE trade winds and start seriously moving to the higher latitudes I expect to have to run the engine much less (until it gets really cold, I guess).

By the way, last night was a "first". My options for USA - based Sailmail stations have decreased a little because of the growing distance. Last night I tried the Panama station and got great throughput.

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