Day 9 - Hove To in Gale

The night's grib file presented the same picture of strengthening winds during the night and I had only short dozes while I monitored the state of the boat. The deck light was of great assistance in this because it enabled to get a good look at the sails from inside of the boat as well as outside. They were doing well, though I wasn't too comfortable with the amount of stress being put on the mainsail because it is 6 years old now and I could not bring my spare due to lack of space. On the other hand the mainsail is of heavy material, triple stitched, and looks OK. Using the head torch I could see that Jeff was coping well.

But the wind kept getting stronger at and 4.30 AM when I saw sustained boat speeds of 8.5 kts and touching 9 kts as well as the starboard toe rail getting close to the water (and on this boat that is really something) and I decided that I had to slow the boat down. And here lies the trap of running with the mainsail: on this boat it cannot be reduced from a double reef. What I would like to have done was to drop the mainsail and run with a small amount of jib, a technique that I used on the Horn passage very effectively. But this would have required at least one trip to the mast frantically pulling down the sail in the howling wind while somehow keeping the bow into the wind. It was time to heave to, particularly now that the wind speed was in the low 30's.

My biggest concern was rounding the boat from slightly downwind to windward, making us vulnerable to the big waves. Nevertheless it had to be done. I suited up, switched on the deck light, put on the head torch, and went into the cockpit, which was getting to be a pretty wild place where you had to put pride aside and crawl from handhold to handhold. At these speeds a lifeline would not save me. I released the preventer, made sure that the mainsheet was clear and ready for use, then worked my way to the steering station. As soon as I pulled the pin releasing the connection between Jeff and the wheel I put it hard over to port and lashed it because from now on I wanted the rudder to try to drive the boat into the wind.

We made the turn without a problem and both sails started to flog, but I needed to attend to the headsail first. I released the jib sheet and as I went past the traveler I gave the mainsheet a quick yank to bring in the boom a bit then reeled in the headsail. Fortunately that went well, in large measure to the small amount of sail that had been out. With the headsail securely rolled in I could focus on the mainsail. I pulled the traveler to the weather (wind) side of the cockpit and brought on the mainsheet hard. With that we were hove to, Pachuca style. I watched everything for a while and noted that the bow of the boat was somewhat into the wind and waves - not as much as what I would have liked but good enough.

Down below things were much calmer. The hull was being regularly slapped by waves but that was superficial - more sound than fury - and I ignored it. We were drifting NE at 2 knots. With that I hit the bunk and got some real sleep.

At 7.30 AM I woke up and had a look at the situation from the companionway. Forget the grib files and wind speed numbers, I know a gale when I see one, and we were definitely in one. The wind indicator was reporting an average of 33-35 kts. The sky was now cloudy and drizzly, whereas throughout the night I had seen some stars out. Was I correct in thinking that a warm front had passed?

At 10.30 I was up again and during a leisurely two cups of coffee I got the sense that the wind was abating. By 11.30 it was down to 20 knots. The sea was still rough but nevertheless soon it would be time to start sailing.

Just before noon I suited up and went topside to set sail. I eased the boat off the wind and even on a broad reach we were heading NNE. The wind had backed and I would have to gybe the boat. That means crossing the wind when it is coming from aft and if not done in a controlled fashion can slam the boom over hard enough to damage the traveler and boom. I was willing to make the gybe only because the sail was double reefed. I tightened the mainsheet and held onto it as the boom went across with no problem. Eventually I had the boat on a satisfactory heading of 110T (ESE) doing 4 kts under the control of Jeff, with mainsail only and no headsail. Down below was the quietest since the beginning of the blow. Things were looking up.

At noon our position was 32S00, 033W46 yielding yet another surprising n-n distance of 120 miles, and we were now 1105 miles from Tristan da Cunha. Somehow the sailing to the south of rhumb line and the drift to the NE while hove to had averaged out to a near perfect direction made good of 106T. That the noon-noon distance of 120 miles included 7.5 hours hove to and making 2 knots tangentially to the rhumb line is a testament to the speeds that we were making while sailing, which I make out to be an average of 7.27 kts. The barometer had fallen 7 points to 1010 hPa.

We were now on the first starboard tack since leaving Angra, as far as I could recall. The weather was now off our starboard quarter which meant that the shower curtain protecting the navigation station was of prime importance.

All night long I had to deal with the occasional drip of water over the computer. The windows above the navigation station and galley are both leaking and I plan to reseal all 6 windows in Cape Town. I managed to get silicone sealant in Angra but I'm not willing to remove any of those windows during this passage because were anything to go wrong I would have a gaping hole in the cabin to deal with. However, I'll probably apply a bead of sealant all around the windows on the outside of the joint. The sealant is clear so it shouldn't look to bad and will be easy to remove. From memory Arnold, Reg, and I re sealed the windows in Port Lincoln, South Australia, in 2008.

At 1.20 PM I rolled out some headsail to keep up the boat speed. I expected the wind to steadily back and weaken. I then attended to the wind charger. During the blow the thermostat had allowed the unit to free wheel to protect it from overheating. For good measure I also threw the electrical switch to "off". Just now I turned the switch to "on" and immediately the unit began to hum and produce 3.5 amps. A justified complaint of these Rutland 913's is that they shut themselves down in strong winds, while other brands will hang in there to produce phenomenal amps in high winds. Nevertheless I like my Rutland. It is very quiet (billed by the company as the quietest on the market) and because it is a dumb piece of equipment with minimal smarts (The voltage regulation is done by a unit inside of the boat.) it is very reliable. How those blades can withstand the G loads during those high revolutions while freewheeling is beyond me.

In the afternoon the sky cleared and the sun came out and I was glad because bright sunlight always cheers me up. Some dampness had crept into the boat and I would welcome a dry spell for my sake as well as that of the boat. After 4 or 5 days I needed another bath and to wash some clothes.

I had another look at last night's grib file and after a lull in the wind around midnight we would be in for at least one day of westerly winds reaching up to 24 kts. Based on that I decided to drop the mainsail. The mainsail was going to give me a lot of trouble tonight in these lumpy seas with a light wind anyway, and when the wind is blowing hard and going my way I prefer to be pulled along by the headsail, which I can easily control and is not likely to get me into trouble.

.. Speaking of which .... One would think that dropping the mainsail into the lazy jacks would be simple and quick. After the preliminaries such setting the lazy jack and backstay tensions (tight on one side, loose on the other) I put the boat into the wind, released the main halyard, then went to the mast to pull it down. The sail got stuck on the way down. I could neither drop it nor raise it again to full height. Eventually I saw the problem. For first time since the trysail halyard block was installed at La Paz the luff (leading edge) of the mainsail managed to get behind the block and I could not dislodge it. I wasn't about to climb the mast past the radar dome so I gybed the boat and let the wind pop the sail out. The point is that had it been dark it is highly unlikely that I would have spotted the problem from the deck and I could have been in a real pickle if for whatever reason the sail had to come down.

After tidying up I made some adjustments and we were sailing east at about 2.8 kts before a wind of less than 10 kts. I didn't mind the slow, as long as the boat kept moving. I could use a peaceful few hours after the previous night's gale.

I saw a lot of sea birds today and I wonder if it has anything to do with last night's gale. I would usually see at least one prowling around when I went on deck. I saw two groups of four, one group flying about and the other floating near each other on the water. At sunset there were a dozen flying around on the port side of the boat, no doubt looking for dinner.

On the spur of the moment I decided to take that cockpit bath well after dark with the last glow of the sun on the horizon. It was a clear and gentle night, though the boat was rolling heavily in the confused sea, and this might be the last chance for a day or two, given the high winds predicted. I wimped out and heated water on the stove to warm the water.

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