Day 2

I got very good communication from Sailmail last night, getting over 2,000 bytes per minute outgoing and about half of that receiving. I am hoping that as I move to the sought and get closer to the Chile station (currently just over 1700 miles away)the performance will increase.

The grib file that I received indicated winds reaching 22 kt at midnight. A wind prediction of 22 kt can easily become 24 kt in reality, in which case I would be in trouble with my single reefed mainsail. At very last light I went topside and put in the second reef. I did it on the run - not turning into the wind - which caused complications due to the pressure on the sail from the wind. It's just as well that I had a bit of daylight left because in darkness it would have been impossible to see what was going on aloft. If I am ever forced to reef at night I'll definitely turn the boat into the wind enough to get the pressure off the sail. We lost just over a knot in speed, to 4.4 kt, but the peace of mind going into the night was worth it. If the wind abated after midnight I would simply roll out more headsail. We were still headed south with the wind on the port beam. Sure, I would have preferred a course to the SE, but I wasn't prepared to pound the boat hour after hour to achieve it.

Although the horizon was clear (two ships had passed several miles off my stern earlier) I decided to switch on the radar, given memories that I had of the difficult passage from Argentina. Sure enough there were two hefty targets 18 miles ahead, and 2 smaller ones just 4 miles off the starboard bow. It was going to be one of those nights sleeping by the timer.

It had been a hard and sweaty day and I had received two doses of sea water topside, so I decided to give myself a fresh water bucket bath and a change of under clothes. Hang the expense!

The night was as I had expected. There was always something out there to worry about so that all I was able to do for rest was to lie down for 20 minutes in my wet weather gear. The problem was that I always had to consider the possibility of a wind shift. One object was a military vessel that would pass within a mile of me and I couldn't tell whether he would pass in front or behind me. I raised the ship on the VHF, got a response in Portuguese, and I asked if there was anybody who spoke English on board. Fortunately an English speaker attended to me. He understood my limited maneuvering under sail and agreed to alter his course. Then there were three object that turned out to be static and brightly lit, like oil platforms. I passed the first to starboard then altered course a few degrees to pass the others to port. This put me on a beam reach and quieted the boat significantly, though our speed increased to 6.5 knots. That wasn't a bad SOG (Speed Over Ground) for a double reef and a tiny bit of headsail. I suspect that I was benefiting from that south-set current in this part of the coast. In general I couldn't complain. The weather was clear, the moon was out, and the sailing was exhilarating. The wind had reached the predicted 22 kt and then more. The conditions were ideal for the wind charger, which was putting out a steady 4 and 5 amps.

At 4 AM local time we were past the platforms and there were no radar images ahead. We had just passed the edge of the continental shelf and I wondered if it meant that there would be fewer local fishermen in the deeper waters. In any event it was a good opportunity to try to get some rest.

I managed to get 4 or 5 hours of good sleep. Every hour the timer would wake me, I would look for radar and AIS targets, stick my head out of the cabin for an eyeball scan of the horizon, then go back to the dry, warm, and cozy bunk and tell myself that the boat was OK and the best thing that I could do for it was to get some rest. After breakfast of coffee and toast with honey I put on my wet weather gear to do a deck check. From the mast all looked well. The sails were happy, the rigging looked OK though the leeward lower shroud was showing some visible movement, which means that the lower (D1) shrouds will get another turn of their turnbuckles. The anchor was still firmly lashed. I also disposed of the garbage. Everything went overboard except the plastic.

At noon UTC our position was 25S02, 044W01, giving us a n-n (noon-noon) distance of 113 miles. The direction was to SSE and I would have preferred SE, but this southing was very useful because it would get me closer to the westerlies. The wind was still over 20 kt and we were making over 5 kt with our shortened sail. I didn't want to increase the boat speed because the seas had built up and I did not want any more slamming of the hull. We were well off the continental shelf by now, in more than 2000 meters of water. The temperature was still warm enough for wearing just underclothes in the cabin, but topside required wet weather gear because of the heavy spray.

I finished the installation of the new shower curtain to protect the navigation desk. The original one had been an ultra cheap plastic one, the type where you could smell the plastic. I have now installed an up market deluxe one that could grace the finest bathroom. It is more like cloth, much easier to manage and stronger than the crinkly plastic one. Today's task was to cut the bottom off so that I would not keep stepping on it and tearing out the rings. I took the measurement, marked an offset from a fold crease that would give me a good reference, marked the line, then used a sharp Stanley knife to cut the material. First class result,if I say so myself.

In the afternoon the wind dropped to 15 kt, the sea abated, and the sailing was good. I relaxed and did some cat napping. I furled up the Aussie flag at the stern and brought down the Brazilian courtesy flag. The wind continued to die so I shook out the 2nd reef and thought that we were set for the night, but then the wind dropped to 10 kt, the boom was threatening to thrash back and forth, and I noticed a big squall on the radar. That spooked me and I dropped the mainsail altogether and ran with just the jib because I didn't want to be caught alone with all sails up in a squall. I went into the night not sure what the wind would do. It was predicted to die in the morning anyway, but I couldn't complain. The last two days had gotten me well clear of the coast and off the continental shelf, and I was off to a good start.

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