Day 18, March 24 - Comet and Iceberg

At sunset I rolled in the headsail, which was out to a slightly bigger area than that of the staysail. The wind was touching 22 kts and the boat was surging to 7.5 kts and I thought it prudent to go into the night prepared for the possible 30 kt wind. However, down below although the boat was marvelously comfortable I saw that our boat speed had dropped to 5.2 kts, sometimes sagging to below 5 kts. After thinking about it I went topside and rolled out a sliver of headsail - about half of the area of the staysail. This took our boat speed to 6.5 kts and the boat was still riding fairly well. What I liked about the setup was that such little headsail would be easy to roll in without too much flogging if the wind piped up suddenly. From what I had just seen of the triple reefed mainsail and staysail configuration in 22 kts of wind on this point of sail I figured that I had a good chance of carrying that setup through 30 kt winds.

Just after dark I stuck my head out to throw away some food scraps and I saw the comet, off to the NW. It had to be the comet because of its size, brightness, and the aura to one side of it. I watched it for a few minutes then a cloud bank obscured it. The experience took me by surprise because the first half of the day had been foggy and the second half clearing but still quite cloudy, so looking at the sky was the last thing on my mind. It was by sheer luck that got a chance to see it. I'll look for the comet tomorrow, weather permitting. There is now a half moon too. It's great to be able to see the boat and the ocean at night. The first two weeks out of Cape Town were made more difficult because the nights were pitch black.

At 7 PM the wind was touching 25 kts and the boat speed was once again becoming excessive, particularly during the gusts when the rig would start to shudder. I rolled in the little amount of headsail there was and slowed the boat down to 6 kts. Before I did that I enjoyed for a few minutes the magnificent sight of the boat slicing through the rough sea at 7.5 kts.

By 8.30 PM the wind had not exceeded 22 or 23 knots and I conclude that I had been spared the heavy winds that had been predicted. I stopped the movie (Gettysberg) and hit the sack.

At 1 AM I was woken by the slamming boom. The cold front was passing over us (It must have been a weak one) and the wind had died right down. I then spent a sweaty 30 minutes bringing down the sails. We had made 84 miles since the last noon marker and I was hopeful of making the 100 mile mark before the coming noon.

I woke up for the 0630 session with Graham to find that a 10 kt wind ha sprung up from the S. After the session I set the boat sailing to the E at 5 kts under full headsail. The wind forecast for the next 24 hours was equivocal and Graham was hoping for more definite information for the lunch session.

I am having more success with two headed sailing. Subtle wind and course changes put us slightly into the wind against a 10 kt wind and as an experiment as much as anything else I hoisted the staysail inside of the fully extended genoa. Both sails are drawing well and I figure that I've gained a half a knot, seeing at times speeds of 6 kts. The mainsail is still down because the wind prediction is so uncertain. Each sailor has his own preference for rigs. My first choice would be a true cutter, and second a cutter rigged sloop like Pachuca.

At 0830 we were 100 miles from the last noon position and 3300 miles from Fremantle. (Yes!)

The day was crisp and cloudless so I went to the cockpit to enjoy the sunshine while I finished my coffee. As soon as I glanced forward I knew what it was, The big white form was perhaps 15 miles ahead and 20 degrees off my starboard bow. The binoculars confirmed that it was an iceberg. I altered course from E to NE in order to give it a wide berth and at 1030 it was 9.5 miles off my starboard beam and I started the engine because the wind had died down and the sails were flogging. I had planned an engine run during the expected lull in the wind, and now was as good a time as any. I switched on the radar and was happy to see that the iceberg returned a solid signal and was I able to fix its exact position. As the 1110 SAMMNet session approached the iceberg was 9 miles off the starboard beam and I tried to imagine the mast of a sailboat at that distance. From that, for what it was worth, I estimated the height of the iceberg to be 50-60 ft. I reported this to Graham who considered it big and hazardous. He issued an Securitay immediately and would pass the information on to the marine authorities. The iceberg had a flat top at a slight angle. The side that I could see was steep, with vertical channel-like ripples.

Here is the information on the iceberg for the record:

Time: 24 March 2013, 0930 UTC
Position: 43S13.7, 048E07.3

This encounter changed things for me. From now on I will have to switch on the radar every hour or so to see what is out there. I will also have to spend more time topside looking for smaller pieces of ice that may not show on radar.

I consider myself fortunate. Had last night's wind lasted another 2 hours I could have slammed into it, and had it not been a nice day which brought me topside I would have sailed very close to it. I was grateful and gave a little prayer of thanks.

The noon numbers were:

POS 43S06, 48E03
NND 112
DMG 1497
DTG 3289

I was very happy with the NND. I had kept the boat moving at 6.5-7 kts during the night while the wind lasted, and it had paid off.

I had shut the engine down for the session with Graham and had resumed sailing at 3 kts off a weak southerly. Much as I wanted to get away from our Antarctic friend, I preferred to use the wind as much as possible then use the engine when there was no wind.

I spent some time reviewing the procedure for launching the life raft. The raft is in front of the mast inside a stainless steel frame with a lid topped with teak planks, On top of that is the Zodiac inflatable, tied to the frame with ropes. The most important thing will be to go forward carrying a knife, and I've got one in the cockpit within easy reach. At the mast I'll cut the 5 ropes holding down the Zodiac then throw the Zodiac aside without damaging it because it could be inflated by a terrified man very quickly. With the Zodiac out of the way opening the lid to the frame is a simple matter. Then I have to release the straps holding the life raft canister to the deck by pulling on a snap lock. Now I lift the canister out of the frame and throw it into the water. Inside the life raft canister is 30 meters of painter (line) attached to the raft. The other end of the painter is attached to the deck. With the canister in the water I pull out all of the slack in the painter then give a good pull and the raft should then deploy out of the canister and inflate. The painter at the deck end is attached by a mechanism that will cut the line if the boat sinks more the 3 or 4 meters, but I would rely on my knife to sever the painter at the right time. Regardless of whether or not the life raft deploys I'll manually inflate the Zodiac if there is time. After reviewing the process in my head I put my passports into ziploc plastic bags then into the grab bag, which contains items that I've documented before, including a 406 mHz EPIRB and hand held VHF radio. There is also an EPIRB in the vest of my life jacket. Of course it was Mr. Frosty, now drifting 10 miles behind the boat, who inspired me to do all this.

I used the radar to get the position of the iceberg at 1430 to a tenth of a minute. It drifted exactly NW (045T) a distance of 2 miles in 5 hours, giving it a speed of 0.4 kt to the NE.

Just before dark I picked up the Raymarine manual and set up a radar guard zone. If any target is detected inside of a 90 degree arc ahead of me, within a distance of 1.5-20 miles ahead of me, I will get an alarm. It took me about 2 minutes to set this up. Nothing concentrates the mind like an iceberg. I've got to be careful about power consumption. It seems to me that at times when I am creeping along at 3 and 4 kts I should be able to get by with a few sweeps of the radar every 1.5 or 2 hours, but during high speed sailing, particularly during poor visibility or when I am sleeping, I can keep the radar up with the sector alarm.

I got a very good look at what I am sure is the comet. Just after sunset it was about 20 degrees above the horizon to the Northwest. It seemed bigger and brighter than any planet that I have seen.

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