Doldrums…
0° S, 94° W
April 9, 2125 Ship’s Time | 120 Miles South of Equator, 94º W Longitude
Still Motoring
I cannot imagine what the mood must have been like back in the square-rigger days traversing this part of the world. There is NO wind. Hasn’t been for days, but a frustrating swell has us banging around even though we’re motoring at a smooth 6-7 knots. The sea surface is oily, and while there are rain showers all around us, none have yet come overhead to offer any kind of cooling relief from the baking sun.
We’re only 48 hours into this passage and have made 350 miles of progress, so I can hardly complain. Back in the day, those old ships could sit for WEEKS. With livestock and hundreds of crew and itchy wool clothing and no engines. I cannot imagine the stench that must have emanated from belowdecks. It’s frustrating enough on our modern machine here cruising through another moonlit night, here for fun and not work.
We took two reefs in the main earlier today, both for something to do with our time, and also to stop the incessant slatting of the mainsail. “Shaking pennies out of it,” my friend Paul Exner would say. The old ship captains loathed a calm more than a storm for the wear and tear it put on the ship’s natural canvas sails and hemp rope rigging. It’s not any different today—the firm press of wind in the sails keeps the rig taut, but the banging back and forth in a calm shakes everything loose, least of all your brain cells.
We keep downloading the latest GRIB models looking for wind, and even emailed WRI to ask them their thoughts, but the only answer is patience. The trades are south of us still, and we’ve either got to wait until they push back north again, or just keep on trucking and burning diesel. Speaking of which, we thought we had an issue with the fuel transfer pump earlier today, but it was a false alarm—turns out we were just trying to pump from an empty tank. Oops. We’re down to just over half our remaining fuel already, so these trades better fill in sooner than later.
In other news, we celebrated my dad’s 73rd birthday today! He got a leftover pastry and fresh coffee for breakfast, and was gifted an ice-cold afternoon beer to celebrate. At dinner the whole crew sang to him, and I think he enjoyed his birthday at sea.
As I write, the swell is more annoying than ever, the dampening effect of the mainsail reduced thanks to the reefs, but we can only hope the waves portend a wind somewhere that isn’t too far distant. What else to say…waiting for wind, motor-boating south.
HOLD FAST
// Andy
andy@59-north.com
View more passage logs
HMS Night Watch Party
Wing on wing worked well until the wind shifted then the helm became the cone of despair for our night watch crew of three (H, M and S) Alex made the decision to drop the pole, shifting wing on wing to a close reach. Wind increased to low teens and speed picked up to a flying pace. Day spent wandering toward Ensenada. Alex, Adam and David got us into port under another starry night.
No Kitemares Today
After a night marked by sudden wind accelerations peeling off Point Conception, and a vibrant, pulsating sky blistered with shooting stars, the off-watch woke to commotion on the foredeck. The wind had gone light and the swell had tapered just enough to raise the spinnaker. The sail filled with an urgent pop, the sheet strained and Falken charged down the face of the next wave. By mid-day, we doused the spinnaker and set our minds to the more precise task of safely punching through a gap in the notorious Cortez Bank. The border to Mexico looms ahead.
The California coast
We had a very lively first day of sailing with steady winds between 25 and 30 kn gusting to mid 30s. All of the crew got experience at difficult downwind helming as we covered 200 nautical miles in the first 24 hours. This morning brings winds in the teens and calmer seas. The sun is still shining, and the green monster has been slayed by those afflicted!