2226UT | 18°31.67N 155°55.47W
Sailing
The last few days have slipped by fast as the trade winds have carried us ever close to Hawaii. Our peaceful bowling along only occasionally disturbed by a squall.
Last night we were bowling along and I was looking at the blue sparkling bioluminescence creaming off the side of the boat when suddenly it started raining and the wind picked up with gusts of 28 knots slamming us hard over. We told Mary there was a squall and she decided we should go straight for 2 reefs in the main. She depowered the sail then hopped up on the coach roof in the now driving rain to clip the handybilly to the reef cringle to make a new tack and smaller sail. Back in the cockpit it was time to winch up the halyard to tighten the luff and then winch reef 2 to secure the foot of the sail. There are two ways to grind a winch: turning it clockwise is hard but a higher gear so does the job faster, the other way is easier but a long slow grind. Meanwhile it’s difficult to get a good foothold on the wet lurching boat and you’re in a confined space. Last night (if I say so myself) Emily and I nailed the teamwork of winch grinding. Using the longer handle, she perched on the upper side and I took the lower (according to our respective heights) and together we turned those winches the hard and fast way. Girl Power!
Meanwhile Bruce held the boat on its course throughout and in the morning we could see that our mascot Scooby the Booby Bird had also clung on to its perch. Hawaii is less than 250miles to go.
Sarah Talbot
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The gobbledygook of sailors
We sailors can come across as a cryptic bunch. Similar to almost all niche endeavors, it boils down to efficiency, safety and tradition. There are so many "ropes" and so much gear on a sailboat, that trying to identify them by descriptive terms just wouldn’t cut it. We’re in one of the best learning environments available to offshore sailors, and mistakes are a part of the process.
Dive on in
Life aboard Adrienne is hot and sticky. It was hilarious how fast we all started moving once we heard we might go for a swim in the ocean. With our captain’s blessing, we started jumping in, hooting and hollering, grinning like children on a carnival ride. It was simple and delightful and also mind-boggling to be bobbing and washing in the great ocean under a clear sky with nothing around but our floating home and each other. But the deeper cleaning of this ocean plunge will certainly linger for days.
Death on the high seas
I’m not going to lie - I really miss my dog. As we’re just now approaching Cap Verde (two thirds of the way) I can’t help but think of all the wonderful things that happen on a trip like this; strangers become friends, terror turns into confidence, and ignorance into knowledge. It’s not for everyone. But if you do decide to cross some of most isolated spaces on the planet in a small boat, you’re definitely in for a mighty interesting ride. And next time I’ll bring my dog with me. 😊