DAY 16 - Over the hump

The boat sailed comfortably ENE at 4.5-5 kt during yesterday afternoon.

My task for the afternoon was to drain whatever water there was in the ice box and refrigerator compartments and to clean everything thoroughly with bleach. My inventory in these sections was: three 8-oz packets of cheese, one nearly full tub of whipped butter, one apple, three oranges, four lemons, ten eggs, and plenty of onions. I began the passage with four dozen eggs. For the first three days I wolfed down four eggs at a time. Then I went down to two eggs at a time. Now I am down to one egg at a time. If I'd known how well these eggs travel when you rotate the packages I would have brought more. I have been eating very little cheese and unfortunately have not caught any fish to justify use of the lemons. Behind this fresh fruit I have many packets of dried fruit, thanks to Ron Beach's marvelous shopping effort on my behalf.

At 1.30 PM I spoke with Richard. He said that the sea was flat and there was no evidence of wind but the he was doing an amazing 3 kt. I asked him if the sails were up and filled and said that they were but the boat just seemed to be sitting there doing nothing. I suggested that there may be a current helping him along. I asked him whether the rain and fog had lifted. The rain had gone but there was still fog with practically no visibility ... which reminded him ... He had just shut down his engine after a 24-nm run to charge his battery but he could still hear an engine and blowers running. He realized that it was a ship that had to be very close. He has an old radar unit that takes 3 minutes to activate so he straight got on the VHF. Richard gave his position and he could tell that the other fellow got a real jolt. It looks like the people on the ship either started their radar or decided to look at it because they soon told Richard that they could see him. Richard has no idea because of the extremely poor visibility of how close they got or if they had to swerve to avoid him. I congratulated Richard on his daring. Sitting in a fog practically becalmed with no visibility and with no protection from ships except your ears, a radar reflector, and a VHF radio is not my prescription for a relaxed day at sea. Richard was at 45.11N, 144.23W, 803 nm from his destination.

At 2 PM I noticed that my heading was 070 and thought that it was time to gybe. It was a good call because I found Pachuca headed due north just as it started to drizzle and the wind started to pick up. by 3 PM I had a 17 kt wind and was doing over 6 kt. I thanked my lucky starts for putting up a reefed mainsail instead of the full mainsail at the beginning of the day.

Thirty minutes before nightfall I went up for a check and faced the fact that the prudent thing was to put in a second reef for the night. I put on my water proof jacket and went out into the drizzle. I put in the second reef and for good measure rolled up more jib to about a no. 4, and moved the jib car forward. After that shortening of the sail for the night I felt better. (I always do.) Then I went below and to my surprise the boat was still doing over 6 kt. I took off my damp clothes and decided that if I was going to change my under clothes I may as well have a sponge bath. I did so in the cabin using 1 liter of fresh water with a little bit of dish detergent. No rinsing. I finished that just in time for the radio session that went well. Richard was moving east at about 2 kt with no prospects for good wind for 4 or 5 days, according to Don of Summer Passage. (I am a bit more sanguine.)

After this I connected with Sailmail to send out my daily report and receive any incoming mail. Now that I was in the middle of the Pacific the connection to Honolulu during daylight was impossibly slow - down to 50 bytes per minute during my last daylight session. I was now making my connections at night and usually via Friday Harbor WA, which seemed less busy than Honolulu.

Just before I retired the wind veered sharply thirty degrees. I knew that the wind vane was set for a broad reach so I went to the cockpit and rotated the airvane to put the boat on a beam reach, ever so slightly into the wind. I got it right the first time and Pachuca was once again heading due north at about 5.5 kt. At 1 AM I woke up thinking "I bet she's running at over 5 knots and has veered 15 or 20 degrees." The chart plotter showed her as doing 5.2 kt at 020 degrees.

I awoke at 4.30 AM to daylight under a gray sky. I had confidence that the boat was OK so I remained on the bunk for 20 minutes until the 5 AM news enjoying the feeling of being clean, dry, and warm. Pachuca had had a boisterous ride during the night because of the rough seas. The wind had veered more and she was traveling at just over 5 kt on a course of 055 T, directly for Juan de fuca. Even though the boat had taken a lot of drizzle and spray during the night the cabin was completely dry except for the dampness on the floor from the wet weather activities the night before. It was the port side of the boat that had taken the weather and the two remaining ceiling leaks are on the starboard side. Shortening the sail to a minimum for the night had proven to be extremely wise and I'll keep reminding myself in the future how the boat travels more comfortably with less stress on the sails and rigging, and seemingly minimal loss of speed. My preoccupation of the day was to try get as far north of 38N as possible within the next 36 hours when that High would be back in this area. At 6.30 AM I was at 37.15N, 145.17W. Each degree of latitude represents 60 nm and I was traveling NE and not directly north. Nevertheless with luck I would be able to cover at least 150 nm in 36 hours, taking me very close to 40n.

At 7 AM I went to the cockpit. The boat looked fine. The sea had abated from the boisterous state that I had seen in the dim moonlight the night before. The cloud layer seemed thinner and I could see patches of blue sky ahead. The course had veered to about 060 so I altered the wind vane to take Pachuca to windward, 60 degress off the wind, course 45 T. I did not let out any sail because I expected the apparent wind to increase, but I did harden them up. Fifteen minutes later there was a patch of real yellow sun shining on the boat and her speed had increased from 5.2 to over 5.5 kt, with an apparent wind up to 17 kt. Not a bad speed for going to windward against a rough sea with a double reef and no. 4 jib.

At 6.05 AM I saw a ship appear on the chart plotter screen while I was eating my hot oat meal. It was 85 nm away (the record so far is just over 100 nm), doing 18 kt, and estimated closest distance to Pachuca would be 12 nm in 5 hr 23 min. At that distance the ship disappears and reappears, and I would not get its name, call sign, destination, etc until it got closer; but at least I know that it was there and what I could expect. The point being that this is so much better for dealing with shipping than having to wait until you can hear their engine.
.. She turned out to be the New Century 1, bound for Balboa.

At noon HST I was at 37.36N, 145.52W. My distance made good over the previous 24 hours was 124 nm.
I was 1161 nm from Oahu and 1115 nm from Juan de Fuca - more than half way to my destination.