Voice from the Deep Blue...............

Today's sms;

NOON 4 DEC GMT-10. 07N08 149W13. 1478 NM FROM TAHITI, 799 NM TO HAWAII. Noon-Noon: 154 NM. STILL GOOD PROGRESS.

The good news is we have received another email from PAchuca. I am wrapped as the sea-email system was hard to set up, but it seems to work well now.



For the "geeks";
To get it working I modified a simple 'file upload .ASP (or asp)' script. I stripped away most of the template so Arnold could see it on his phone. We had to hire some server space to achieve this. Sounds easy but I couldn't see what was visible to Arnold on the Satellite phone, and several time the script bombed out (or just did not work). Anyway back to this posting.





Here is the most recent email received today;

Tahiti-Hawaii 2

26 November 2008

At 12.30 AM Arnold reported that he had had a reasonable time of it, though the wind speed and direction varied due probably to the rain squalls. I took over at 1 AM and found the first two hours extremely difficult. The wind backed taking us to a course of 290 degrees magnetic so I tried tacking and found myself headed almost due east. Pachuca definitely cannot point well with winds below 10 kt. I tacked back and found the wind light and confused and the boat slow to respond to the helm. Eventually Pachuca tacked herself while I was doing some winch work and she steered herself happily NE with a wind that had decided to back even more to the west. Twenty minutes later the wind dropped below 6 kt and the sails started to flog. Eventually I decided to drop the mainsail. I had my hand on the halyard ready to drop it when I felt a bit of wind on my cheek and decided to give it one more go. The wind strengthened and reestablished itself as a 20 kt N Easterly and I sailed into the dawn at course 330, 5 kt. At 8 AM I handed the watch to Arnold who let out more sail and took the speed up to around 6 kt. By then the seas had built up and it was the familiar wet windward work. At this point I was becoming concerned about our inexorable drift toward the west. We badly needed a wind shift to E or SE to enable us to steer east of north.

In the late morning Arnold downloaded two GRIB weather files: one of the wind predictions in this area extending to the equator, and the other weather chart of the entire Pacific ocean. The GRIB file had good news. The NE winds we had been experiencing were confined to a small area. Soon we would sail out of the area and better yet the 3-hour intervals for the next three days promised E and SE winds all of the way to the equator. Arnold also succeeded in uploading a text file containing the blog material of the first few days of our sails, although we would have to get confirmation from Stephen. The upload facility that Arnold had used months before had been abruptly withdrawn by the service provider and it took a lot good research and hard work by Stephen to provide us with an alternative. This meant that we could once again issue extensive blog reports while at sea every few days.

Our noon-to-noon distance for the day was 100 nm, a pleasant surprise considering the difficulties that we had with the wind earlier.

In the afternoon I baked a loaf of bread. The result was OK, though a heavy loaf.

I also started to wash a modest load of clothes. At Papeete I had gotten the bright idea of filling our manual washing machine with fresh water so that we would be about to do at least one load of washing on the way. I emptied part of the fresh water into a bucket and used the rest to wash my clothes and a set of underclothes for Arnold. I used a minimal amount of soap powder to make the rinsing easier. I then sealed up the washing machine and let the boat do the agitating until the next day.

In the middle of the afternoon the wind started to veer. By nightfall I could comfortably steer 0 degrees magnetic. (This was actually 11 degrees true because there is a variation of 11 degrees to the east in this part of the world. However, with a current of 0.5-1.0 kt set to the west as reported in the chart the variation and current seemed to cancel each other out.) After some discussion we decided to go into the night with the full main and headsail rolled out to suit, partly because there did not seem to be any squalls about. This turned out to be a good decision because both Arnold and I were able to sail throughout the night with no problems with over canvassing.

27 November 2008

When I took over the watch at 1 AM Arnold had Pachuca powering along at 015 degrees at about 6 kt. It was the same for me into the next morning and beyond. We had a pretty reliable 15 kt wind from ENE and we were steadily making our way east again. I was feeling really, really good about that.

In the morning I removed the clothes from the washer, rung them out as best I could, then rinsed them in the bucket of fresh water that I had prepared the previous day. Given the dark colour of the water I would say that the machine (and Pachuca) did a very, very good cleaning job.

Our noon-to-noon distance for the day was 120 nm.

Arnold agreed to my suggestion that we heave to so that I could reseal the vents in the head and cabin with silicone sealant. We were both tired of the constant drip drip drip into these areas. We hove to for about 30 minutes to get the job done. I took the opportunity to measure the true wind speed at 15 kt and our drift when hove to on a port tack to at 2 kt SSE.

We started the engine just before noon to charge the batteries for the first time since we had left Papeete. Just before we started the engine I noted that the solar panels and wind charger were delivering a nett 1 and 2 amps even though we were running the refrigerator and the autopilot (and other instruments). My very rough estimate is that we are consuming a nett 100 amp hours per day. Also, the auto pilot seems to be amazingly efficient, using an average of 2-3 amps in the current conditions.

Arnold reported a noon-noon distance of 120 nm. While Arnold had the satellite phone link up he received a message from Stephen confirming that he had received our blog text file OK.

During the day Arnold discovered that the radio antenna running from the bow to the cockpit had come loose at the cockpit end, fallen overboard, and eventually a join half way along the wire parted, leaving us with half an antenna. We discussed modifying one of the upper rails in Seattle to use it as an antenna. I suggested that we try the rail as it was even though the theory said that it would not work for various reasons. Arnold connected the radio to the rail as an antenna and I told him that it was the best reception that I had heard from that radio. The “antenna” is composed of both rails, stanchion, and pulpit. The system is isolated because the pulpit and stanchions are fixed to wood and the rails are tied to the cockpit frame with cord.

The evening meal was simple: white rice, boiled carrots, a big can of tuna, and a spaghetti sauce.

We put in a reef for the night sail and it was a good decision. At the 1 AM handover Arnold reported wind speed got a little high at times but he managed by rolling in the jib.

28 November 2008

For me the hours until dawn involved splendid sailing. At one point I put on the auto pilot and had a good look at the emerging stars to the north. Behind me I was very happy to see the Southern Cross extremely bright and remarkably high in the sky. We were only about 6 degrees from the equator and I calculated that I would be able to see the constellation from a few degrees north of the equator.

Unfortunately the wind backed and the entire morning involved sailing hard to the wind in order to keep the boat headed north or east of north. We hadn't had fruit for a couple of days so I diced one pineapple and one mango and presented it for brunch. We still had green bananas on board that should ripen soon.

Our noon-to-noon distance for the day was 135 nm. We had been scorching along for days and at this pace we would cross the equator in only three more days. Unfortunately the NE wind persisted and we sailed the bulk of the night with the mainsail double reefed and a small jib.

29 November 2008

For this entire day we continued sailing to windward against a NE wind. The boat and crew were taking a real pounding but the noon-noon distance for the day was a remarkable 121 nm. I had been distressed and disappointed about these NE winds that had not been predicted and we needed to see if they were described in the latest GRIB file. Arnold did the download and sure enough NE winds were reported in our area. A time-lapse play of the next few days indicated that we might expect E winds on 1 and 2 December. In the meantime we just had to cop it and pound to windward, slipping farther west hour by hour. The boat amazed me by doing 6.3 kt with double-reefed main and tiny headsail against a fully developed sea.

We ran the engine to charge the engine for the second time on this passage. We ran it for 90 minutes to make sure that we did not have to do another charge run for two days.

We had a simple meal of kidney beans with boiled potatoes and carrots, along with some fresh-baked bread. That was the last of the carrots and we have one onion left.

After dinner we hove to and retrieved the port rail spray dodger which was coming loose under the constant stress of being on the leeward side. The true wind speed at the time was 17 kt. Arnold took over the first night watch as usual, wearing his wet-weather gear because more than once we have been confronted by a wall of water passing over the bow, foredeck, cabin, spray dodger, and into the cockpit in our face, as they say.

30 November 2008

At the 1 AM changeover Arnold reported that the wind had veered a bit to the east and we were sailing almost directly north. Throughout the night the wind kept veering slowly but steadily and by dawn I was comfortably sailing at 030 degrees against a 17 kt wind.. At 7.30 AM I shook out the two reefs in the mainsail and handed the watch over to Arnold. The day was one of splendid sailing, comfortably off the wind and with a sea comparatively calm. By noon we were less than 2 degrees from the equator and Arnold reported a noon-noon distance of 118 nm. If our speed and course held we expected to cross the equator at about noon the following day, at about longitude 148W30, a degree and a half (90 nm) west of the recommended crossing. We went into the night with a single reef on the mainsail.

1 December 2008

At the midnight handover Arnold reported encountering 27 kt winds for a short period of time. He was overcanvassed but he knew what to do: ease the mainsail and head a bit into the wind until it blows over. I elected to sail the rest of the night with the one reef and had no problems with winds that were in the 17-19 kt range.

Every day I like to do at least one “chore” on the boat. The previous day it was cleaning out the head – shelves, walls, floor, wash basin, toilet, the lot. This day it was to clean out the ice chest (where we store mainly fruit and vegetables) and the refrigerator. Unfortunately a few over ripe mangos, bananas, and various vegetables had to go overboard. In the refrigerator we were left with only bacon, cheese, beer, and cool drinks. Our beer inventory was 8 bottles of Heineken and three 500 ml bottles of Tahitian “Hinano” beer. We decided to cook all of the bacon for the evening meal and shut the refrigerator off. The fact is that the unit was not keeping things very cold in the tropics. It seemed to be running continuously and using a lot of electrical power. Arnold and I agree that part of the reason for the poor performance is that the cooling mechanism is in a small compartment under a quarter berth with only a tiny grill for ventilation. Arnold suggests that we put in a ventilation fan to take the heat out of the area. We plan to do this in Seattle. Anyway, as soon as I turned off the refrigerator in the late afternoon our power consumption went from negative to positive, even with the autopilot on. On that basis we elected not to run the engine to charge the batteries. There is a good chance that the solar panels and wind charger will provide us with sufficient electric power.

The big event of the day was the crossing of the equator; We crossed the equator at 11.06.39 AM local time, 21.06.39 GMT/UT time. We crossed at latitude W 148 degrees 51.838 seconds, about 110 nm west of the ideal crossing, W 147. We elected to proceed north until we cross the track between W147 and Hawaii, at which time we would lay a direct course for the islands. We crossed the equator doing 6.0 kt, course 005, wind E at 19 kt.

Several aspects of the crossing between Tahiti and the equator surprised me. I had expected E or SE trade winds. Instead we got mainly NE and ENE winds which confounded our plan to sail to W 147. On the other hand the wind was phenomenal – usually in the 15-20 kt range. When we left Tahiti I would have been grateful for a 30-day crossing. We made the equator – only 100 nm short of the half-way mark to Hawaii – in only nine days. Even in the dreaded Doldrums, that thin belt straddling the equator, we were blessed with great wind. Also, I expected the equator to be hot. In fact other than a few hot muggy days soon after departing from Tahiti the weather had been quite pleasant and downright cool at times. There tended to be clouds and light showers about every two days. The showers were fast moving and very light. Arnold and I celebrated the crossing with a Heineken each.

In the afternoon Arnold saw something black fall into the water while I was putting in a reef and it was my watch. It was a good digital watch that I had found in one of Pachuca's sail lockers soon after purchasing the boat. Memo to Robert: never ever again wear a wrist watch while sailing. Keep the time piece in your pocket, the binnacle, or in the cabin.

In the evening I suggested to Arnold that given our fast passage it would be safe to use one of our 10 liter containers of emergency water for our second bath since leaving Tahiti. Arnold did not need much convincing. He also thought that it was a good idea to heave to and have baths in the ocean (one at a time).

The night turned out to be a difficult one. I noticed that the chart plotter was reporting a wide divergence between the heading of the boat (the red line) and the actual course over the ground (the green line). This divergence gives invaluable clues to the effects of current and other factors. I then noticed that we were traveling at only 3.5 kt. We checked the sail trim and the apparent boat speed through the water and all was OK, indicating that we should be doing at least 5.5 kt. We concluded that the equatorial current must be in play big-time.

2 December 2008

At 1 AM Arnold reported a rough night with big seas and still the relatively slow speed. I carried on with the single reef and small jib and the night was rough and wet but manageable. During the night a fish either flew or jumped into the cockpit. He was about the size of a herring and given other circumstances I would have considered him for breakfast. I picked him up and threw him back in the water none the worse for wear. He was luckier than the previous night's fish. He landed in front of the binnacle and I did not see him in the night. By morning he had been pretty badly trampled by me as I went in and out of the cabin. Shortly after dawn the wind speed picked up. Arnold took over at 7 AM to give me a break and when I woke up at 9.30 AM the boat was pounding hard against the oncoming seas. After some discussion with Arnold we decided to give up trying to reach the magic recommended line of approach to Hawaii and steered 20 degrees to port and eased the sheets. To balance the helm better we put in a second reef in the mainsail and rolled out some jib. The effects were pretty dramatic: no pounding, easier helm, and better boat speed (over 5 kt). We were sailing on a beam reach headed just to the east of Hawaii. If the wind direction held up we would be OK. However, if the wind backed to the north we would have a difficult time of laying Hawaii. Our day's noon-noon distance was 105 nm. We sailed off the wind most of the afternoon at speeds of 6-6.7 kt. In the late afternoon the wind backed a bit and weakened. We hardened the sheets and we were till making good time at about 005 degrees.

The effects of shutting down the refrigerator had a dramatic effect on our electricity management. We finished the night with more voltage (12.4 V) than we had started with the evening before. At 11 AM the boat was generating a surplus of 2.5-5.0 amps. Battery voltage was up to 12.5 V. With these wind and sun conditions we may not have to start our engine for the foreseeable future.

In the afternoon I chopped up our last pineapple and one of our two remaining mangoes for dessert that night. On the menu was white rice boiled with a chopped onion, a can of tuna, sauce, and some bread. Pretty simple fare but the crew had yet to complain lest they be challenged to produce better.

After dinner I went to the cockpit to check the boat. The autopilot was still steering the boat seemingly effortless. After pumping out the bilge I went to manual steering and immediately I started the familiar left-right oscillation as I overcompensated from side to side with the wheel. I looked around and saw that the sea was relatively calm. I discussed the idea with Arnold of giving the autopilot a go to all-night steering. He agreed without hesitation.

3 December 2008

At the midnight handover Arnold reported that the autopilot had performed well and had not disengaged once – a tendency that we had noticed in the past. The boat speeds were outstanding, over 7 kt at at times over 8 kt with a single reefed main and reduced jib and a 15 kt wind on the side. I took over the watch and watched the boat powering and steering itself through the water and felt a great sense of release – released from hour after hour of staring at a compass and manipulating the wheel when a small computer could do a better job anyway. I noticed that at the end of my watch I was much less tired because I had been free to wander around the boat, do some reading, and even lie down for 10 minutes when I got sleepy. At 5 AM we crossed the recommended line of approach from Tahiti to Hawaii which put me at ease and gave me confidence that we would be able to make Hawaii without major tacking. The boat sped on throughout the rest of the day and into the afternoon. At one time I saw a speed of 8.6 kt reported by the chart plotter. We were going faster that it appeared we were going. We doubted that there was north-set current in plan since the equatorial current is strong and set to the west. Arnold thought that the more efficient steering by the autopilot might explain it. He could be right, and if he is the implications on future performance of Pachuca are enormous. Power consumption, by the way, was amazingly slow. We went into the night with 12.3 V in the battery bank and at dawn had 12.2 V. This was helped of course by the wind charger but the point is that with the large capacity and fast charging battery system that we now have on Pachuca power use by the autopilot will not be a big issue. At the time of this writing, noon, the battery voltage was up to 12.3 V and the solar panels and wind charger were producing a surplus of electricity, even with the autopilot engaged.

At about 6 AM we ran into a rain shower. Fortunately we had our reef in place and I was able to collect enough water to fill our washing machine and provide two buckets of rinse water for baths for Arnold and myself. We had our overdue baths and washed an impressive load of clothes.

Our noon to noon distance for this day was 171 nautical miles, a record for us. At noon we were doing 6.6 kt off a 10 kt breeze on the beam.

Our policy now will be to use the autopilot constantly except when conditions dictate that we manage the helm ourselves. I'm not sure why it took me so long to fully exploit the potential of the autopilot. A bit of a slow learner undoubtedly. But it was also an evolutionary thing. Shortly after leaving Fremantle we discovered that the autopilot was not working. We hand steered the boat across the Bight to Adelaide where the display unit was replaced. Between Adelaide and NZ we were plagued with electrical supply problems and we used the autopilot as little as possible to conserve power. When Bruce and his company transformed our battery systems in Opua we at last had the last major factor in place for continual use of the autopilot, but were still reluctant to exploit it fully. Maybe it was too good to be true.