Monday, November 18
I will not obsess over 100 mile days. I will not obsess over 100 mile days…
Ahhh, that’s better. Just had my second full-on deck shower. Bucket after bucket of cool clean oceanic saltwater and a freshwater rinse with the garden sprayer. I was decadent with it, and I’m glad.
James went first, on his 1400-1500 watch. He hadn’t done the full body experience yet, just maintenance wipe downs, and he laughed out loud with pleasure all by himself abovedecks. I smiled to hear it and went back to reading.
Tuesday, November 19
A near miss in the middle of the ocean seems ludicrous, and that’s why James had to motor hard to avoid being broadsided by another sailboat.
It was pitch dark. I’d been watching a 10 meter boat get closer via their AIS signature and a bright white light on their mast, but I couldn’t see the expected red of the port side running light. At the change of the watch, I gave James the story. It looked like they’d pass a safe distance ahead of us. He took over.
Turns out they weren’t using running lights, just the anchor light, and that’s one puzzle with a bad explanation. They also changed course and headed at us.
According to the rules of right of way on the water, we were the stand-on boat and they were the give-way boat. They should have been responsible for changing their heading to avoid us, but they did exactly the opposite.
James tried to call them on the radio; no love. He flashed the spotlight at them and even shouted, they got that close, but there was no one in the cockpit.
The fundamental navigational rule is to do something! All the rest of the right of way rules are superseded by this one. If there’s danger of collision, avoid collision. It’s the most sensible rule, so obvious that I’m impressed that people actually included it explicitly.
James followed rule one assiduously and no one died and no boats were damaged. I sincerely wish that James’ wasn’t the only calm that was damaged but whoever was in that boat slept through the whole thing.
The two puzzles with no answers are why and how they changed course when no one was in the cockpit and why was no one in the cockpit?! The easiest assumption for the second question would be that the boat was crewed singlehandedly. The answer to the first is harder to guess. Did someone go up and change course without looking around and then fall back asleep so fast they didn’t hear the radio? Did they have the radio volume down too far? We’ll probably never know, though I do plan to search on the boat name, Fare Moana, and see if any 10m sailboats come up. If so, I’m going to ask them!
The electric motor proved its easy usefulness again. Always available, no warm-up or even start time. Dodging would have been the only option with a cold diesel and that would have meant removing the preventer early for maneuverability then rebalancing the boat after, but James had an extra tool. It’s a good one.
Noon position: N 15° 19.124’ W 038° 16.638’
Distance noon to noon: 82.0 NM
Average speed: 3.43 kn
Trip distance covered: 807.3 NM
Distance to destination: 1318 NM
WTF Fare Moana???
Does an anchor light mean the anchor is hanging? I looked up N 15° 19.124’ W 038° 16.638’. Smack in the middle of the big deep ocean. Puzzling.