Week two 4/28 - 5/4

The second week of the passage started out pretty damn well by any accounts. We picked up some really strong winds on the last night of the first week so come morning, we were really bookin’ along. We were finally starting to go above 4 knots which felt like light speed in comparison to the previous week’s doldrums. The boat was heeled over with the force of the wind and the sea was spilling through our freeing ports. It felt great.

We had been trawling a line since we left Australia but without any speed we hadn’t had any luck. The main lure that we had was rated for 4.5 knots and as soon as we got to that speed, it worked like a charm. That first morning of week two gave us the first fish of the voyage. It was so amazing to watch Kat haul in this huge Dorado. Adam gave the quote of the day saying, “Look at Kat the mad-fat fish-killer…Meorrrrowww!”

By mid morning the winds had picked up and the ship was rockin’ 5 knots. I was at the helm; everyone else was cleaning for field day. When the wind increased to plus 20 knots Evan called a cleaning break to furl some sail. I’ll omit the dicey description of what happened next, but suffice it to say that it was some intense sail handling. It made the previous night’s sail handling look like a walk in the park.

This morning was the first time that waves truly crashed over the deck. Even after things calmed down a bit the waves were still washing over the deck like they do over sand at the beach. This was all part of the ship just being a ship. This was also when I started to remember just how wet things can get on a boat. Everything is wet. There’s no way around it. There’s a skylight in the saloon that drips right into my bunk. It’s quite amazing how it manages to do so. I’ll draw a diagram later, it’s that complicated. The drips really have to make a concerted effort to bend at such an extreme angle and travel such a great distance. They make the journey, though. There’s a puddle on my sheets to prove it.

Here’s a quote from my journal: “I love this. THIS, is why I travelled halfway around the globe. THIS, is why I put up with weeks of labor in Hemmant. The novelty may wear off tomorrow, but currently, I’m in love.”

When the wind shifted from the beam to the quarter, Evan had my watch furl the gaff top’s’ls, the outer jib, and the fore gaff. All this was so we could set the course sail. This was the first time for me to see a square sail in action. It looked pretty cool, if I do say so myself. While up on the course yard we spotted land: Lord Howe Island. This was our navigational waypoint, so we weren’t going to stop here. It just meant that were going to start heading NorEastish from here.

The course was beautiful for exactly one day. The night after we set the thing we saw our first official squall. Around the turn of the watch the weather started to get rough: 5 meter swells and force 6.5 winds. We reefed the gaffs and clued up the course. As Dan and Britt went up to yard to throw on gaskets, the sail started flapping wildly. Kat scurried up to help, but Dan was already in over his head. I watched from the deck as the tear started. It was a foot at first but quickly spread to feet and then yards in several directions. As the minutes past, the tear became larger and more sail beat up against Dan. By the time Evan took Dan’s place the hole had grown to several square yards. When I get back to the states, you’ll have to ask me for a full retelling of the event. Dan could easily have been blown from the yard that night. If he had gone overboard without grabbing the life line, he would have been a goner for sure. With seas like that you just don’t come back.

The next day we had all sails furled and lashed down. There was good wind, but the Weatherfax showed a storm on the way. We were sitting bare poles just waiting for it, but it never came. The problem with the Weather fax is that they report for a full 24 hour period. The storm that we were supposedly waiting for had already hit us the night before.

The night of that first squall was rather interesting. After blowing out the course I didn’t sleep much. It sounded like WWII in the galley. Everything was banging around inside the ship. One particular break-loose sent a waterfall of onions down the stairs into the saloon. Pulling onions out of the bilge can be a pain-in-the-ass and hysterically funny at the same time.

Mid week saw the beginning of May. I realized at the time that Steve Terry would be in Korea with Jekyll and Hyde. I didn’t feel so bad about the missed opportunity in light of where I was. This was good.

I had another cook day about that time too. I stayed up all night making bread and food. After breakfast I think I secured the galley champion title. I made some really flaky pastry cinnamon rolls and they put Cinnabon to shame. For lunch there was Everything-that’s- going-bad-but-we-still-have-to-eat-it Salad, and leftovers. We left port with 4 heads of cabbage. Each head was 2 feet in diameter. They were the largest cabbages I’ve ever seen. All our fresh stores rot and mold so we have to eat some things quickly when they start to turn. The pumpkins were starting to go and so were the cabbages. When I went to pick up a cabbage in the dark I sunk my hand into it as though it was made of mud. I smelled great after that. Esto and Carrie, you guys would have been proud. For dessert I made lemon meringue pie and it was mind bending good.

By the end of the week the wind calmed down again to a standstill. What else could we do? It was time for a swim, Adam was on shark watch. With the cessation of wind we took the opportunity to start repairs on the course sail. There was such a big rip that instead of patching the tear we were replacing entire panels of the sail. Even then, I knew that we would be stitching for days.

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