Day 52 - Dealing with a Weak Wind

I was up at 2 AM to capture the 2.30 AM weather fax. set the timer for 45 minutes, then overslept. At 5 AM I was roused by the hum of the Rutland wind charger saying "Wake up. Wake up Robert, there's wind!"

I put on a jacket, shoes, and my harness and went up to the cockpit to see first light on the horizon on what looked and felt like a crisp winter morning. Jeff had managed to keep the boat orientated properly (more credit due probably to the boat's tendency to ride beam on to the wind even in a weak wind), the staysail was already out and working, so all I had to do was to roll out some headsail. While doing that I looked up to the sail and noticed above and next to the mast the Southern Cross. It was the first time that I had seen it since before Hawaii in 2008. And it wasn't skimming the horizon playing peek a boo: it was high up, sassy as ever, as if to say "What kept you so long?" Of course it was high up: I was now 4 degrees below the latitude of Fremantle.

The wind was from the SE which gave us a good point of sail for the headsails and soon we were doing 3 knots to the SE. The night's grib file had predicted a stronger wind for the dawn, but it would weaken by a knot and remain marginal (9-10 kts) during the day.

The night's 7-day spot wind report for 40S, 114W from Buoyweather (a great service given by Brenda and Stephen to me as a Christmas gift, where I send a message requesting a 7 day wind/wave report for a lat and log to whole degrees and 15 minutes later it is ready to be downloaded by Sailmail) forecast appalling winds for the 19th and 20th, the nadir being an easterly wind at 1-2 knots on the 19th.

The night's weather fax showed a deep low way south of us at 60S. We were on the outer edge of its influence, on the margin with a high to the north, and that could not be expected to last too many hours as the low moved to the east.

I might be in the so-called westerlies but it wasn't good enough. I needed to be below 40S in the Roaring Forties more than 2 degrees away, so I was as hungry to get south as ever.

After a second cup of coffee I went topside and raised the mainsail. I timed it and the effort took 25 minutes. Strange as it may seem, articulating the process in the previous blog entry had been a big help. I worked methodically, efficiently, with no mistakes. The boat settled down to 3.5 knots on course 170. I could have gone off the wind more to head SE but my primary interest had once more become getting south as quickly as possible. At 6.45 I went below for my breakfast of toast.

Then I remembered to check on the mung beans. They had finally sprouted to a satisfactory state, but it had taken 36 hours instead of the 8 hours I would have expected in the warmth of La Paz. They tasted fine, with no hint of fermentation. After draining them and loosening them up with a fork I put them in the refrigerator to supplement my diet for the next few days.

At 10 AM I shook out the 2nd reef and went to the 1st. In marginal winds I tend to sail with a double reef to minimize the forces if the boom begins to bang side to side. However, I needed to wring as many miles of distance out of that wind while it lasted. I'm glad that I did because it showed me how easy it can be to go to that 1st reef. I didn't even need to alter heading to luff the sail. I would bring in a foot of halyard until the line was tight, wait a few seconds for the natural movement of the sail to allow the slides to creep up the track, then do it again. Even with the extra canvas we were still doing only 2.3 knots against 9 knot breeze that was getting perilously close to the boundary of utility. I made a cup of hot chocolate and hoped for the best.

At noon we were at 38S13, 115W53, giving us a n-n distance of 40 miles to the SSE. The boat was still sailing, barely. The reason was that with the west wind the boat was heading south and directly into the long swells from the south. That gave the boat a pitching more than a rolling motion, so the sails were more stable.

We had a fortunate afternoon. Not long after noon the wind picked up 3 or 4 knots contrary to what the grib file had predicted, and we were able to sail at 3.5 -4 knots until 5.30 PM, and time would tell if it would last into the night.

I had an active afternoon preparing the boat for rough weather. The first effort was to sew the sun screen onto the broken spray dodger window. I didn't mind the tedium of going back and forth as I stuck the needle on one side then drew it from the other to send it back through the fabric. I didn't mind the boat jumping around as I tried to position the needle for the next thread. I didn't mind swapping the palm between hands and pressing the needle blind knowing that one false move and I'd stick the back end of the needle into my hand. I didn't even mind the huge number of hours that it would take to do the job. What stopped me was the broken needle. The problem wasn't the double seam of the material that I had to stitch, it was the plastic-like window material that was like armour to penetrate. I had to push the needle very hard with the palm to get it through and I could see it flexing. The inevitable happened and I certainly wasn't willing to risk any of the three remaining sail repair needles. I gave up on the sewing and wound up by putting a plastic tarp inside of the dodger. It is held nicely at the top and side by being jammed between the frame and the canvas of the dodger. The bottom is wedged behind the instrument panel. It isn't pretty but it will prevent water from getting into the companionway as long as it is only spray and not the full brunt of a wave. If that doesn't work I'll just keep using the dodger as is with the broken window.

I had decided to round the Horn leaving the Zodiac strapped to the platform over the life raft. I just didn't want to clutter up the cockpit with the raft in front of the binnacle as I had carried it before. It was already well lashed down but I got some very suitable rope and put four more lashings, two diagonally and two across. I am aware that it will present windage and there is a risk of it being carried away by a monster wave, but it presents a smaller profile than the life raft which is also at risk of being carried away.

I had noticed a bit of chafing where the perimeter lifeline rope passes in front of the mast so I reversed it and re tied it. It is top quality rope that I had purchased as a halyard it I've got to be able to rely on it when I'm walking forward on the deck.

I decided to keep using the mainsail through the current bout of weak winds and would put up the trysail when I knew that strong winds were imminent.

After a sag in the late afternoon the wind rallied and a 9 PM we were at 38S45 and still moving south at 3.5 knots. I was pleased and relieved at how the day had unfolded.

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