Day 36, April 11 - Voodoo Sailing

At 0230 I was up to find that we had drifted 6.25 miles to NNE, giving a rate of 0.8 kts. I was not happy with that direction because I did not want to drift N of 39S, which was only 19 miles away.

I was up at 0430 to find that we had drifted a total of just under 10 miles to the NNE. There was negligible wind from the south. The sea was calm under an overcast sky and I decided that it was a good time to do an engine run to charge the batteries. Without enough wind to allow the Monitor to function and no autopilot I would have to steer the boat myself, so I decided that it made sense to invest some time in swapping the autopilot head with the one that had been repaired in Argentina and had worked the last time I had used it.

I found that both heads displayed the same "Seatalk Failure" message. Either both heads had the same problem or there was another problem common to both, possibly in the data cabling. To my mind it was more likely that both heads had the same problem. In time I would look over the cabling but I was reluctant to delve too deeply into it lest I introduce another problem. For now I packed both heads and put them away, and taped off the data cables at the binnacle. I think that the most sensible approach is to wait until I arrive in Fremantle and start by taking having the heads checked by a technician.

After restarting the chart plotter I attempted to shut down the radar scanner which comes on automatically at startup and discovered that I had no radar. The message "No Data Source" appeared. I did not think that the problem was related to the work that I had just done. For one thing, the radar has its own heavy cabling into the back of the chart plotter and does not use Seatalk. For another, the radar had gone off line somewhere back along the South American coast after having its cable repaired in Argentina and had mysteriously come good again,and these intermittent problems do not usually go away. Also, I had not used it for the past 10 days. I figured that the repair at the mast end of the radar cable which had been done in Argentina had failed.

These problems were so familiar. In fact I had gone through the exact same symptoms on the way to the Horn and the problems turned out to be the radar cable and the autopilot head.

So at tha moment the following boat systems were not working:
- Wind speed and direction
- Autopilot
- Radar
- Spray Dodger

Notice that most of them are electronic. The rigging and sails were strong, the Monitor wind steering appeared to be in sound condition, and the chart plotter with AIS were OK, so I was not too concerned, particularly because this time I was approaching Fremantle and not the Horn. Fortunately the small vessels that I was likely to encounter in my approach to Fremantle would be relatively large and well lit at night so that radar would not be as vital as when I was sailing up the Brazilian coast at night surrounded by small and poorly lit wooden fishing boats. The AIS was of course vital always.

I ran the engine for one hour, comfortably seated, steering with one foot, and my hands free for enjoying my mug of coffee. It was a gray day but not particularly unpleasant. Although it was not cold, it was a bit chilly so I dressed warmly including a beanie and gloves. For the first time since the Agulhas Bank I saw very few birds around, perhaps one every 15 minutes. Do they not like calm winds? Perhaps there were few fish in these waters.

Forty five minutes into the engine run the alarm came on briefly twice in about 3 seconds, and I did not have time to see the error message on the display. It was probably the recent oil pressure problem but thanks to some good advice I now had other means of assessing whether the engine oil system was working properly.

At the morning session of SAMMNet I was not able to hear Sam, who was filling in for Graham until Saturday. By prior agreement I issued a blind status report on the good chance that he could hear me even if I could not hear him.

At 0730 I downloaded the latest wfax file which did not show a dramatic change in the wind situation. At 0800 I connected to Sailmail and downloaded one of the worst wind forecasts in memory. (The only worse one I can recall is when I realized that I was on the wrong (north) side of a low during my approach to the Horn and spent 3 days lying ahull being pushed the wrong way, to the west.) For the next 3 days the highest predicted wind speed was 9 kts, with most in the range 5-7 kts. There was nothing to be done but to accept it and make the best of it. This would delay my arrival in Fremantle, of course, but I would have to wait and see how things unfolded.

After the session I decide to take advantage of the calm conditions and so-so sun to have my long overdue bath and wash some clothes. The 30 minutes of preparation began with clearing the cockpit floor of the tangle of lines, which I coiled around the various winches. I gave myself a delux cockpit bath with plenty of shampoo for my hair and beard, and with a generous amount of fresh water warmed from a hot kettle.

Then it was time to wash clothes and the first priority was the Icebreaker skin tight woolens. After that was the kitchen towel then the undershirt and socks. When I reached for the underpants I found that they had walked to the rail and jumped over the side. (Just kidding, I washed them too.)

Not long after that an attractive breeze sprung up from the SW. After watching it for a while I concluded that it was not a "teaser" wind but in fact had some substance to it. The attraction was that being from the SW the boat would naturally want to sail on a beam reach toward the SE, which was good because I wanted to move closer to 40S. I rolled out half of the sail and soon we were making 2.5 kts to the ESE from a weak wind of perhaps 9 kts, but the sea had calmed down enough to make it viable. While under sail I hung out the washing on the starboard overhead life line.

My spirits had lifted, not just because we were moving again, but also because I had received a message from Brenda that Jeremy, who has the lease on my pen (slip) until 8 May, has found another pen so that it appears that after I clear customs in Fremantle I will be able to take the boat straight into her pen D81. Better yet, it appears that he will lease pen D79, making him my next door neighbor. I have never met Jeremy, but I have gotten to know him a bit through his tenure of my pen and I am looking forward to meeting him and being his neighbor. As an incentive and assistance in his quest for another pen I had made the offer to waive the last month's lease payment if he could effect an early departure. I don't begrudge that at all because he's been a damned good tenant, and I have got to say that it has all been due to Brenda's hard and proficient work on my behalf.

Our noon numbers were:

POS 39S19, 86E54
NND 38 nm
DMG 3327
DTG 1472

At 1500, three hours into the dark, I was forced to roll in the sail because the wind had died to practically nothing. It was a shame because with the sail we had managed to arrest that drift almost directly to the north and make 6 miles to just south of east. I tried hard to keep up even a tiny sliver of sail but it was useless. However, after rolling in the sail I could still sense motion in the boat. I watched for 20 minutes and somehow Jeff the Monitor was managing to keep the boat pointed east with the wind slightly abaft of the starboard beam, and we were still moving. I left things as they were and retired to bed with the boat making way under bare poles in perhaps a 5 kt wind.

I woke up at 2200 and saw that the boat had maintained heading and we had made just over 3 miles in 6 hours slightly to the south of east. There was a hint of usable wind so in the dark I rolled out some sail without touching the wheel or the Monitor, and off we went, making 2 kts to the ESE with the wind still slightly abaft of the beam. Somehow the combination of calm sea, the propensity of the boat to present itself beam on to the wind, the current, and whatever influence that the Monitor could contribute was making it possible. OK, the speeds had not been great, but we had stopped that drift to the north when we had been only 19 miles from 39S (we were now 21 miles from 39S) and were now headed in the right direction. I started a new page in my compendium of sailing experience under the heading "Voodoo Sailing".

I returned to bed and slept for another two hours.

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