Sunday, July 7
Dena’s 1200-1230 half watch
When I logged day 4, I hit the bottom of the page. That’s when I add those travels to the total distance we’ve traveled aboard Cetacea (since there isn’t an odometer on a boat like on a car). At 9631 nautical miles traveled and at least 566M to Praia on Santiago, Cabo Verde, we will be celebrating 10,000 nautical miles on this passage!
I think it might come right as some intense winds die down, which sounds wonderful. It will be nice if we can have a special meal. We have no alcohol aboard, so it won’t be a toasting occasion.
Maybe we’ll celebrate again when we get to Praia!
Dena’s 1700-1800 watch
I spent the two previous watches putting ideas on paper. Actual paper! I sketched out the new instrument panel I want to build and made all my measurements. I now know how big a piece of thin plywood we’ll need. It will only have three things on it…
- Bulkhead mounted compass with inclinometer
- Chartplotter
- Motor display
These three instruments are all largish and they’re going to take up most of the aft bulkhead to starboard of the companionway. Only the chartplotter is there now. The other two are in the footwell where they’re well-nigh useless.
They are plugging holes, though. The motor display is where the diesel engine’s instrument panel used to be and the compass is where the engine’s stop pull was.
The stop pull space is a recess molded into the fiberglass and I think it’s a good place for a hard point, as we say in the trade when we are in the mood for sexual innuendo and even the word hard will do. With proper backing support, a solid eye bolt will be a good tether attachment while underway. Nomad had two in the footwell but not recessed and I got too many bruises from those things. This seems better because it will be impossible to bump into.
The bigger hole is a puzzle. It’s also a recessed space but that doesn’t mean we can’t just slap something over the whole expanse. I’m thinking…decorative cover? Speaker? Whatever we do, it’ll have to be watertight. James cut a piece of plywood (torn out in the head cabinet demo) to cover the gap but then put a cable hole through that for the motor monitor. The screen on that thing is impossible to read at any great angle, so reading it means dipping your head most of the way into the footwell. Ugh.
Regardless, we don’t need those answers to move forward. There are makeshift fixes (big bolts in the two holes) we can start with, now that we know where to start at all!
Dena’s 2100-2400 watch
I’m flabbergasted. This is the smoothest fast downwind run we’ve ever had. We’re averaging 5.0 knots since noon, and there’s no chop at all. The true wind speed must be about 15 knots, so the friendliness of the sea state is surprising.
Alternate idea…I know there’s a favorable current in the area. I wonder if we picked up a nice strong boost.
I had the very great honor of saving a life…finally! The flying fish had no boats in their environment as they evolved and, it would seem, they haven’t caught on as a species to the tragic consequences of landing on a boat’s deck. We’ve had one or two a day the whole trip, noticed long after it would do the creature any good. We send them back to the bottom of their food chain with a sad farewell.
This one made itself known with buzzing flutters of its wing-fins. A pinch, a toss, and I got a neurochemical prize for doing the right thing. Hardly seems fair, but I’ll take the mild buzz.
Monday, July 8
Dena’s 0300-0600 watch
I woke a little, thinking we were off course because the boat’s motion had turned herky-jerky, confused. It wasn’t hard to drop back to sleep, knowing James would handle it. Now I know, it’s the feeling of ocean swell erased of wind waves and a boat that’s barely moving under sail power.
When I went below at midnight, our average speed was still 5.0. Now we’re doing 2-2.5 with better and worse intervals. We’re already 70M into the day so a respectable distance has already been achieved but I’m not sure we’ll make it to 90M. I enjoyed logging those 100+ days.
At this speed, a little more attention is needed. LoveBot is steering with impressive precision given that all it’s force begins with enough wind to tip the air vane. While broaching in these conditions won’t roll us over and sailing/drifting off course won’t take us far, I’d prefer that we point and go in the right direction.
An hour and a half into this watch and at least I’ve kept busy. The stars are hidden by clouds again, so I’m glad for the entertainment. I pulled the second reef in that counterlogical need to have less fabric up there to waste itself flopping around. I also brought it inboard a little so it wouldn’t beat against the shrouds. Then I set up the tiller pilot, having reached the lower limit of what windvane self-steering should be held responsible for.
Now I’m keeping an eye and ear out for the time when the motor is required. Once the sun is up, I imagine we’ll use it to boost our speed and steerageway, but I’ll put it off as long as we’re going the right way.
Half-hour later…nah, fuck that. We installed this motor for a reason! It’s almost 0500, the sun comes up at 0739, we should be making significant solar power by 0900, so 4 hours on battery alone. This battery is so full, it’s begging to be put to use. No problem!
Noon position: N 21° 31.797’ W 019° 10.510’
Distance noon to noon: 97.8 NM
Average speed: 4.08 kn
Trip distance covered: 522.4 NM
Distance to destination: 471.9 NM
