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That is what the whale was doing (or very large dolphin), which I almost
'ran' down this morning, as much as one can speak of running something
down at a speed of less than two knots. That fish was obviously sleeping
with its head above the water. I noticed it only, when I was about 20 feet
away, and the boat was going straight for it. I got a little anxious, because
if it was a big whale, it could do quite a bit of damage to my boat, when
it woke up. I quickly started the engine, to waken it, and when I took
another look, it had disappeared.
Later the same day:
It is peaceful out here. There is just a light breeze from the southwest, perhaps less than five knots or so. This afternoon I ate the last of the piece of swordfish that was given to me just before I left Nawiliwili. The first portion yesterday did not taste all that great, perhaps because I was a little seasick. However, today I cut off all the fat, and fried only the meaty part in small pieces, well spiced up with garlic and chili sauce. This time it tasted quite good, although it was a day older. I had marinated it, therefore it had not spoiled.
All day there have been light winds from the southwest. But I have made steady headway due south, at the slow rate of be-tween one and two knots only. I am enjoying the easy life, no worry about anything breaking. I took a bath in the sea today, just climbing down the boarding ladder and dunking myself into the water, without letting go of the boat, even though it was only moving at about one knot. At this rate I shall have to continue probably another two or three days at least, until I reach the trades, waiting for me on the southern side of this high pressure ridge, unless the ridge decides to move north, or some-thing else upsets the weather picture.
No TV tonight, as I am finally out of reach of the Honolulu TV stations.
FM I am still able to receive, although this will fade out also tomorrow,
as I move farther away. On other fronts, I am exploring and enjoying the
new computer. It is dark outside now. It is a clear night, and all the
stars are out. The pole star is astern, just low over the horizon. The
southern cross and the waning moon will not come up until after midnight.
23 February 1992, 20 degrees N - 159 degrees W
Some measly 40 miles farther south than yesterday, but south nevertheless. I am still just barely in reach of Honolulu FM broadcasts, so one more evening of classical music over the radio. After that I shall be back to my cassette tapes. I do have some 100 tapes, and this trip gives me a chance for once, to listen to all of them, and not just once either. My 15 odd Thai tapes I have gone through several times already.
Night is falling now. I have changed the Genoa for the working jib. Better to be under canvassed during the dark, than the other way around, even if I give up some distance. I got plenty of food, and water should be no problem with my water maker. By the way the main water tank is still full, so my final repair must have done its job (knock on wood).
All of last night, and most of today, there were very light winds, and I hardly moved at all. Only in the afternoon some clouds moved in, and with them came a re-awakened southwesterly wind of some 15 knots. So I was barrelling along, with the boat heeled over, albeit southeasterly. It was a bit of a job, to cook supper under these conditions, but I managed, to do my rice with pork stir-fry. I used up my last fresh tomato, already exhibiting a spot of mold.
Either the wind has gone down, or the changing of the head sails did it, but now the boat is only heeled slightly, and I can use my computer again. Last night I was up till 22:30 playing 'Jeopardy' and 'Wheel of Fortune' on it, quite a change from my normal early turning in. Some gulls are accompanying me, just now circling the boat only a couple of feet above the water. The sky has cleared up again. I will not turn on my lights tonight, even though I saw a ship in the distance this morning. I am well off the shipping lanes now, and there are no yachts about either. The Pacific Maritime Mobile ham net has troubles find-ing any to follow. There are only I, 'Renaissance' going from San Diego to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, and 'Banshee' proceed-ing from the Solomon Islands to Kosrae, Micronesia. Another boat will join the roll call tomorrow journeying from Mexico to Hawaii.
I am certainly getting enough sleep these days. In past years, when
I was alone on the boat, my dreams took me way back in my life, dredging
up forgotten and buried chambers in my subconscious mind. This time is
no exception. My father, well over 30 years dead by now, is a principal
figure in many of them. Still in my dreams I am fighting, as I did as a
young man, to be free of his dominance. To be alone on the empty sea, is
an experience that the people in the rat race of modern western society
will find difficult to comprehend.
24 February 1992, 20 degrees N - 158 degrees W
This is utterly frustrating! I am moving farther and farther south (and east too), and that elusive high pressure ridge is retreat-ing before me. The weather fax station in Honolulu played me a nasty trick today with an interrupted and off frequency signal. But I got enough of a chart to learn, that the ridge had moved south. Otherwise, I should be on the south side of it now with easterly winds. Meanwhile, the wind is still from the southwest impelling me to give up westing as I move south. What is the reason for the ridge's retreat? A low pressure system moving past the islands to the north. They keep promising cold fronts at the Honolulu weather radio station, but each one dissipates, as it reaches Kauai. At least, they would bring some kind of veering of the wind to the northwest and north.
I am starting to feel like the 'Flying Dutchman', forever condemned, to sail the seven seas without getting to where I want to get. And behind this low pressure system to the north, there comes another one right on its heels. Surely some day they will all pass, allowing the ridge to move north again, and pass me in the process. It is only a matter of days (or weeks?).
There are three stages in a voyage like this on a small boat. The first, when there is ample fresh meat and vegetables, the second, when one is trying to try to preserve the remainder of the fresh foods from rotting away, and the third, when there is only staples left and tins. I am in the second stage now. The marinated meat may last another two or three days with a bit of luck. I shall be eating the last bit of lettuce tonight, tomatoes are gone, and there is a couple of soft green peppers left. Of course there are a couple of cabbages, but I do not care for cabbages too much. There are two more breads, but they are start-ing to grow some mold at the edges.
Is there anything positive to report today? Not really, except, that
nothing has broken, and I am steadily slogging my way south. At least the
wind is blowing at a comfortable speed (15 knots), albeit not from where
I want it to blow. I guess the fact that I am reading a book like 'The
First Circle' by Solzhenitsyn contributes to my morale being a little low
right now. It is a thoroughly depressing book about the life of political
prisoners in the former Soviet Union, but very descriptive and excellently
written.
25 February 1992, 19 degrees N - 158 degrees W
Hallelujah! Finally I am on my way, making southing and westing at the same time. As expected, the wind had veered over-night, and now I am almost on a broad reach making a southwesterly course. Soon it will be due west, straight towards my destination. I received perfect weather fax charts this morning, and while they indicate, that I am still north of the ridge, which makes a big bulge to the south just at my longitude, a large High is moving in from the west, and I shall be scooting down along the underside of it, with winds gradually veering around the north to the east. Just the way I need it!
So on top of the ten days I lost, cutting back to repair the boom, another
five were added fighting contrary winds, for a total of two weeks down
the drain. But that is all over now, and from now on, it should be all
'downhill'. Consequently my morale is up. Breakfast of bacon, fried
eggs and leftover lettuce tasted good, and especially the cup of strong
coffee that came with it. Thank God for coffee!
26 February 1992, 17 degrees N - 160 degrees West
The end of a perfect day! I am surely in the trades now, the wind has turned to the eastnortheast, there is a gentle swell, and I am cruising along at close to five knots wing-on-wing (mainsail one side and the jib on the other. The boat is virtually rocking like a baby's cradle, the sun is shining, and I am full with a good meal. What more can a person want? The company of a loving, beloved and compatible woman. The last thing I do not have yet, but soon expect to enjoy. I am typing this to the strains of Beethoven's Fourth Symphony playing on my tape player.
Oh, the food. Tonight I made myself ginger beef with noodles. Last night it was sweet-and-sour pork with rice. Both times my culinary efforts were a full success, although my ingredients were not very fresh.
It feels good to be out here, all by oneself. As the boat plows its
way steadily ever to the West, the ocean never changes. Day follows night,
and night follows day, the moon waxes and wanes, the sun rises and sets.
One becomes aware of the immensity of this ocean, as one never is able
to do when flying over it in an airplane at nearly the speed of sound.
Even the flight across the Pacific takes almost a day, but there are constant
diversions, meals and movies and drinks served. On a boat one travels at
about one percent of the speed of a plane. On a plane the air is stuffy
and dry, and the drone of the engines is ever pervasive. On a sailing boat
the breeze is free and clear. One can walk around in one's little kingdom
in Adam's costume, with the breeze and the sun caressing your skin, and
nobody objects. One hears only the creaking of the sheets (ropes) and the
gurgling of the water, as the boat cleaves its way through it. Trade wind
sailing is something exquisitely beautiful, riding the swell without effort.
27 February 1992, 17 degrees N - 162 degrees W
Inexorably 'Caraboi' plows west. It was a record run today, although my day measured 26 hours instead of 24, as I set my clocks back by two hours this morning to New Zealand time: 145 miles. At this rate I shall be at Taongi Atoll in 12 days and in Guam in 20. In little over a week I shall loose a day, as I cross the International Date Line, and my longitude will then read east and not west of Greenwich.
I am looking forward to a good meal again tonight: Tom Yum soup with pork and green peppers. Now in the afternoon it is getting cooler again, and I have to put on a T-shirt, it has gone down to 27 degrees Celsius.
I spent all morning, doing my usual weather prognosis from the fax chart, and then worked cleaning up a computer program that computes directions and distances from latitudes and longitudes and vice versa.
Last night I was thrown about quite a bit in my bunk, because of the
lively winds and the heavy swell. I was a little over can-vassed, with
the poled out jib on one side and the main on the other. Tonight I shall
take the jib done, before I go to bed. However, nothing did break, and
I made good distance all night long.
29 February 1992, 16 degrees N - 167 degrees W
Each of the last three days, I have been covering 140 miles. This is about the best distance I can expect to cover in a day, when the boat travels at almost hull speed, and is helped by half a knot of current as well. For the last two days, I have had only the main sail up, and still at times, the boat is straining to go faster, than she is able to. I am tempted to reef even that, or take it down altogether, and hoist the working jib only. The wind is steady out of the east, and keeps around 20 knots. There are lively white caps all around.
Since day before yesterday I have also been checking in daily with the DDD net, a Canadian ham group operating out of Victoria, and following Canadian yachts. It looks like I am their only boat underway at the moment. The Pacific Maritime Mobile net has three at this time, I, the only singlehander, then there is 'Banshee' underway from the Solomon Islands to Ponape in Micronesia, and 'Barnabas' underway from Mexico to Hawaii. Two nights ago, I also checked in with the Pacific Inter Island Net, operating out of Rarotonga. Through the net controller, I was able to talk to a station in Guam, and ask him to telephone American Express there, to hold my mail, until I arrive.
I measured the current coming out of my solar panels, and discovered, that my connections had too much resistance, due to oxidization. Now I soldered the connections together, and finally, for the first time, I am getting full current out of them into my batteries. At noon in bright sunshine I am getting four amperes, in the shade it is more like 1.5.
Tomorrow afternoon I shall be passing some 30 miles south of Johnston
Atoll. Then it is 1300 miles to the next speck of land, Taongi Atoll in
the Marshall Islands. Johnston is forbidden to visit by anybody without
clearance from the U.S. military. Even on those ships, which are permitted
to visit, the captain must take into custody all cameras, as photography
is strictly prohibit-ed (I am reminded of former eastern Europe). Johnston
Atoll is the place where the U.S. stores and destroys all her poison and
nerve gasses.
2 March 1992, 16 degrees N - 171 degrees W
I am a hundred miles past Johnston Island now. It seems, that even high connections do not give you the right to stay there. After finishing reading 'The First Circle', I am now reading a more pleasant book, 'Racing through Paradise', where a well known American radio talk show host, William Buckley, relates his experiences on a Pacific cruise. Even with an American ambassador as part of his crew, and previously announced through diplomatic channels, they were not permitted to stay at Johnston Island overnight. Well, who cares anyway? It is just an almost vegetationless island on a reef.
Last night there was a angry sky with cirrus clouds, and as expected, today the wind started piping up. Now it blows almost at gale strength (28 knots). It backed a little bit to the northeast, but it is still basically behind me. I reefed the mainsail at noon, and almost still feel, that I got too much sail. The self-steering works alright, although perhaps once every few hours the boat broaches to the 15 foot waves coming from the starboard quarter. I easily bring her back on course, by dis-engaging the self-steering for a few moments.
I just did not feel like making an elaborate meal tonight, partly because my choice of ingredients was not great, and partly be-cause of the lively motion of the boat. There is still half a can of corned beef, which I am sure, will wait till tomorrow. So I just warmed up a can of baked beans, bad weather food.
Anyway, this strong wind is just a local thing, and not connected with some bigger system coming in. So it probably will be over soon. The weather chart shows regular isobars, and there is a sizable high pressure system between me and the big storms in the north. I am well separated also from the witches' cauldron south of the equator, where cyclone Esau has re-curved, before hitting the Australian coast. Yesterday's chart showed at least another two circular wind systems in that area, one of them revolving around an area of high pressure the other around an area of low pressure. I certainly would not have the reli-able easterly winds if I were at the same latitude south.
Twice on successive days, I forgot to close off, after use, the water intake valve of the head (toilet), with the result, that it overflowed. So the carpet had to go out into the cockpit to dry, which is a bit of a job since it is mostly cloudy in this windy weather. The wind brings along with it a lot of general dampness too, as there is a lot of spray in the air.
Today I completed the first 1000 miles after leaving Nawiliwili. That
does not mean that I am 1000 miles away from it, as the crow flies, because
of that detour at the beginning, to catch the trades. Anyway, it is still
about 2300 miles to go to Guam. I am well over halfway to Taongi Atoll,
the intermediate point. Whether I shall stop at this uninhabited atoll,
will depend on the weather and sea conditions. Counting from San Francisco,
I am almost halfway to the Philippines. Reading Buckley's book, at the
beginning of which he tells about some trips in the Atlantic, I am struck
by the fact, how small the Atlantic really is compared to this ocean. That
I should have chosen the biggest ocean of them all, to cross for
my first experience of this kind!
3 March 1992, 16 degrees N - 173 degrees W
The wind is abating, down to 20 knots. There are still a lot of whitecaps around, but the clouds have gone, and there is a crys-tal clear sky. The motion of the boat is easier too, and perhaps tomorrow morning I shall shake out the reef in the mainsail. There was a red sunset tonight again ('Red sky at night, sailors delight') presaging more amenable weather. 120 miles again today noon to noon. This is getting monotonous, every day almost the same distance covered. But I am not complaining. I have sustained this pace now for seven days in a row, and there is every indication, that it will continue. This is trade wind sailing for sure.
I was a little more elaborate with supper today: Potatoes, a can of green beans mixed up with the rest of the can of corned beef, I opened two days ago. Not bad! With that some red wine and following it a liqueur, off which I promptly spilled the last part in my lap, when an unexpected wave upset the cup on the table.
Read some more in Buckley's book. My trans-pacific trip is somewhat different than his was. I am not travelling with several cases of selected French wines, only with five liters of the cheapest California red wine, I could find. I do not have a hired gourmet cook, steward and captain, I am all these persons myself. I do not have a different movie to look at every night, but then he did not have Thai music to listen to, and his cruise was restricted to 30 days, after which he had to show up at work again, my time is virtually unlimited, the only time restriction, the one I impose upon myself, and that is, not to let Su, my wife in Thailand, wait for me for too long.
Last night I got myself up at midnight, to try whether I could catch
the Southeast Asia net on ham radio. No luck at that, but on twiddling
a bit with the dial, I heard some Ontario stations conversing with some
Australian stations. I did not want to interrupt, but after they had signed
off, I caught one of the Australians (from Adelaide) and queried him. Yes,
they were on every day at this time, and would I try tomorrow again, perhaps
the Ontario stations would be able to hear me.
5 March 1992, 16 degrees N - 173 degrees W
Yes, next night the station from Hamilton, Ontario heard me quite well, although he could no talk to me at length, since he had to go out and scrape the ice off his wife's car, as she had to go to work. I promptly had the message passed to Wolf on yesterday's California-Hawaii Cocktail net, to come on at 06:30 his time the next morning at a specified frequency. This was 23:30 for me, and I just cannot keep myself awake that long, so I set my alarm.
However I got local time mixed up with Greenwich time, the two being 12 hours different from each other, and my alarm did not go off for the schedule. I woke up an hour later and said to myself, what the hell, lets look around in the vicinity of that frequency anyway, perhaps somebody is on from Canada. I tuned down to the frequency, where I had found an Ottawa station on the night before, and lo and behold, there was somebody enouncing clearly 'This is the Mississauga Maritime Net' etc. etc., and a few moments later 'We are looking for VE3-YGB, sailing vessel 'Caraboi' in mid Pacific'. Was I ever surprised! Of course, I answered right away, and the net controller heard me coming in with a strong signal. I asked them 'how did they know about me?' and would they telephone Wolf and get him on the air? At that very moment, he already answered, and we arranged to go off frequency, to talk to each other directly, without disturbing the rest of the net.
We talked for almost an hour, both of us hearing each other easily,
although we had to move a couple of times to a different frequency, as
some Japanese stations were giving us interference. This was only my second
good direct contact with him. We arranged to meet at this time over this
net twice a week from now on. He said that somehow Ken (VE3-KMB) had found
out about the net, and had given them all the details about me. That is,
how they knew about me. Perhaps my tuning in to the same frequency the
night before, albeit to an earlier net, had something to do with it.
6 March 1992, 16 degrees N - 178 degrees W
Sometime tomorrow, during the day, I shall be crossing the International Date Line. I have nothing, to celebrate this fact with (bottle of champagne). Perhaps, I shall just have an extra big shot of liqueur with rum. I still have not decided yet, whether to dispense with Saturday or Sunday. I think Sunday, because the odd days of the week (Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday) are the days, when I shave in the morning. The day after, the new day will start for me earlier than for almost anybody in the world.
Since yesterday there are quite a few squalls about, but none of them seems to come close, they are all passing by on either side. A real black one loomed in the east, just as I was getting up. I thought it might interrupt my fax schedule and my break-fast. One always wonders, how much wind they pack, and whether it would be wise to shorten sail. However, I only had the mainsail up. In a pinch, I can always heave to, and spill the wind out of the sail that way, because reefing is always such a bother, especially if you know the squall is only going to last for half an hour or so. In the event, it again passed me by, and there was only some drizzle for an hour. Now the sun is out again. While the rain was not enough for me, to take a shower and shampoo, it washed off the topside of the boat.
Only five or six days to go to reach Taongi Atoll. I shall have to make
some calculations as to what the tidal conditions will be, when I arrive.
There is a new moon now, I saw the first sickle of the growing moon last
night. When I arrive at Taongi, there will be a half moon, e.g. a neap
tide, and there will be moonlight from sunset to midnight. That means there
should be a slack tide about mid-afternoon, which means when entering the
lagoon through the only pass at its westerly side, the sun will be behind
me. The weather seems to be amenable too. Well, we shall see. Being alone,
it will be tricky business nevertheless. I should have another person with
me, to steer the boat, while I am halfway up the mast, to look out for
coral heads on the way in, even under good conditions. The depth sounder
is of no use, as those heads come straight up, and there is no warning.
You just have to be able to see them, where they lurk just under the surface.
There cannot be any reflection from the water surface, and the higher the
sun is, and the higher you are yourself above the water surface, the easier
you can see, what is below it.
10 March 1992, 15 degrees N - 175 degrees E
I did not realize, it is four days since I wrote last. I am well past the date line now, and am looking forward, to see Taongi Atoll in about three days time. After that, it will be another 13 days to Guam. This is an awfully long stretch of ocean without a stop. Pretty soon all my bread in cellophane packages and all the crackers will be gone, and I shall have to start baking bread. Perhaps when I finally do, I shall kick myself, for not having started doing it earlier.
I have to get up earlier and earlier for my fax schedule. That is, the nominal time is the same, but the sun rises 10 minutes later each day. This morning it was still dark, when I got up. As I looked out, there was a lightening of the sky to the north-east! At this time of year and at this latitude, the sun should rise to the south of east! It could not have been the moon below the horizon, because it was way below the horizon on the other side. Was my compass wrong? Then, the sky slowly lightened also in the proper direction. Was there two suns coming up? Or was there some kind of conflagration lighting up the sky in the northeast? Eventually the sun came up where it was supposed to be. I can only explain this strange phenomenon with a pecul-iar distribution of the clouds, the sky was overcast with a few bare patches, which interposed a dark area between the two lighted patches of sky.
Yesterday there had been a profusion of cirrus clouds, and true to form, today it is cloudy with strongish winds close to 30 knots. I reefed the mainsail down again, and still it is somewhat of a roughish ride. I also lost my small bucket today, with which I scoop up seawater from the ocean for washing the dishes etc. The boat was moving quite fast, and I guess, the handle had been weakened from two months of use, and it just broke off. I do have another two buckets, and the other small one, which held the extra anchor chain has replaced the lost one now. Now I shall stop the boat, before scooping up water, if we are moving at any kind of speed. The stopping is easily done by just releasing the self-steering. The boat then comes up into the wind and stops. Then I re-engage the tiller and presto, we gather speed again and are on our way.
On Monday morning, two nights ago, Sunday morning in Canada, I again had a good long talk with Wolf. There had been a ham contest on that weekend, with hams crowding the bands. It seemed impossible, to find a clear frequency to talk, I even had trouble to talk to the net controller. However we did find a clear spot farther up in the band. My communications with the California-Hawaii net are getting quite precarious now. It is too early in the day for me, to get through to them well. Howev-er, they can still make me out most of the time. A good thing, Wolf and I are not dependent on them any more, to communi-cate my positions.
I almost thought, that I had ruined my new computer already. I had it
sitting beside me on the table (closed), as I had break-fast. My cup upset
and a little bit of coffee spilled over the cover. Somehow, some of it
must have found its way into the on/off switch, because when I tried it,
it did not work. So I set to, opened it up (even though it said on the
cover 'no user serviceable parts inside'. There was no noticeable moisture
on or around the switch on the inside. However, what moisture there had
been, must have dried up, because after a while the switch worked again
normally. This time it was coffee and not seawater, a less deadly concoction.
I resolved to be more careful with this vital and expensive piece of equipment,
and to put it away securely every time I was eating or drinking.
12 March 1992, 14 degrees N - 171 degrees E
The wind is still strong at just under 30 knots. Yesterday quite an impressive sea started building up, somewhere between 12 and 15 feet high. Early this morning there was rain. This period of strong winds is lasting longer than the preceding one. I certainly will not try to go into Taongi Atoll, which I should reach tomorrow morning, in this kind of weather.
This morning, as I went out to fix up my antenna, I got a bit of a scare. The bearing rod of the wind vane of the self-steering gear had almost come out of its seats. If it had come fully out, and a part of the assembly fallen into the sea, I would have been 'up the creek', possibly not being able to repair it before, getting into Guam, and being stuck with manually steering the boat for the remaining 13 days. Perhaps the repeated banging of the vane against the stops, which arrest its movement at the extremities of its area of play, had loosened the screws. I quickly tightened them. However the plastic washer on its upper side is missing, probably split and fallen into the sea. However, the vane rests on the lower washer by force of gravity, and the loss of the upper washer is not critical for a limited period. I shall have to make another one, when I get to Guam. This experience tells me again, I have to watch like a hawk all parts of the boat, especially the moving ones, for some loosening screw, bolt or other fastening.
This scary experience offset my more pleasant one later, early this morning (00:30 hours), when I made my first contact with Thailand by ham radio. I talked briefly with the net controller of the Southeast Asia Net, Sompat, a Thai working out of Bangkok. I shall be talking to him on a regular basis in the weeks to come. I was able to talk to Wolf also this morning. However, while looking for a more suitable frequency, we lost each other, and then propagation had deteriorated, preventing us to make contact again.
Once a week, as recommended, I run the water maker for a short period. However, the last two times, after producing fresh water for about five minutes, the flow of fresh water stops. I suspect an airlock develops, as the boat rolls, and the water intake becomes exposed to the air occasionally. At least, I hope this is the reason, because I hate to think, that a brand new piece of equipment is defective. So far, I have only produced the grand total of about two gallons of water with it, and that, not because I needed it, but in order to follow the recommendations.
Listening to the ham bands and nets, one picks up all kinds of information.
I have heard from three boats going to the Philip-pines (talked to one).
One German boat, I was listening to, talking to another German one (in
German), while sitting in Jaya-pura harbour in West Irian, Indonesia. There
is a few Canadian boats about the Pacific, some German ones, but most are
Americans.
13 March 1992, 15 degrees N - 169 degrees E
Friday the thirteenth has turned out to be a lucky day for me. The wind has moderated, so that I could shake out the reef in the mainsail. Just after noon I passed my major milestone, Taongi Atoll. The island was so low, that I was able to see it only, when I was as close as five miles away. According to my GPS, I passed about one mile south of the southern extremity of the surrounding reef. I could see the waves breaking over it, although it seemed more like two miles away. A milestone also in my life, the sighting of my first coral atoll, although I did not see much of it from the distance. The winds and seas were rather fresh, the state of the tide would have allowed entrance into the lagoon only at around 17:00, rather late for good visibility. So I decided, just to carry on, and not waste any time for a closer inspection. Looking back on the reef, it presented a pretty sight, with the spume from the breaking waves generating a sort of rainbow effect with the sun shining on it.
All day long there were plenty of sea birds around, which obviously live on the island. Many of them circled the boat, trying to alight on the wildly swinging top of my mast. However, they only succeeded to defecate onto my mainsail.
During the night and the morning there was a series of rain showers. For the first time, shortly before noon, I managed to utilize one of them, to wash myself and shampoo my hair. I decided, from now on, to plug up the drain of the cockpit, so to catch the rainwater for a bath.
This morning, as I woke up, I heard a lot of water swishing around in
the bilge. When I took a look, it was full, almost high enough to overflow
the cabin floor. After I had pumped it out, it became obvious, that there
was a leak somewhere. The water came from astern someplace. I traced it
back to the outlet of the manual bilge pump. It actually is over the waterline,
and dips below it only, when the boat rolls sideways in heavy seas. The
heavy anchor had been resting on top of the flexible hose, which connects
it to the bilge pump, and by its weight had caused it to rupture. So every
time the boat rolled over onto its port side, a dollop of seawater would
enter the boat, and find its way into the bilge. It did not take me long,
to cut off the damaged piece, and securely attach the shortened undamaged
hose to the outlet. Never a dull moment!
15 March 1992, 14 degrees N - 164 degrees E
There has been exquisitely beautiful weather for the last two days. A blue sky with a few fluffy trade wind clouds, gentle winds from astern (15 knots) and moderate seas. In these conditions I am almost sorry, that in ten days already this long hop will be over. Meanwhile, not too far from here, less than 2000 miles to the south, on the other side of the equator, one cyclone spawns after another. After Esau there is now Fran, and behind Fran another tropical depression has grown to a tropical storm (the stage before a full-fledged cyclone/hurricane). I am glad, I am up here, the same distance north of the equator, as those storms are south of it. In three or four months this side will be the playing field of those tropical storms (here called typhoons). But then I shall be well clear to the west of the Philippines.
During the last few days, I have been listening to quite a few talks between various boats visiting in the Marshall Islands and the Caroline Islands. Apparently there are some real nice places there, everybody is full of praise. Meanwhile, I am just rush-ing past, only a couple of hundreds of miles to the north. But I know, where I am going. Sometime, during the next few years, I shall return and linger longer. Now I have some appointments to keep. I simply have to be in Thailand in June, to meet with Roland and Carrie, my son with his wife, and the following month with Kirsten and Jeff, my daughter and her fiance, when they all congregate in Phuket, Thailand.
Over the last few days I have also been poring over charts and sailing
directions for the Philippines, to decide on my route through those islands.
The decision has now been made. Landfall at Tacloban on Leyte (Imelda Marcos's
birthplace), then through the narrow San Juanico Strait between Leyte and
Samar into the Visayan Sea, and on to Puerto Gallera on the north-ern tip
of Mindoro. Puerto Gallera is my old stomping ground, having spent there
many a month in previous years, enjoying the unique flavour of this little
town with its many beaches. There I can leave the boat in the care of people
I know, to fly to Thailand, and to get Su to join me for the remainder
of my voyage. Together then we shall at leisure explore the Calamian group
of islands and the western coast of Palawan, before leaving the Philippines
for Malaysia, Singapore and Phuket.
18 March 1992, 14 degrees N - 159 degrees E
Only six days to go to Guam! There has been a succession of beautiful days with gentle winds, hardly exceeding 20 knots, sunshine with infrequent showers thrown in for good measure, except that the showers are only around me.
Ham radio has been providing the only excitement for me. My direct link with Wolf in Toronto is on twice a week via the Mississauga Maritime net. My signal gets through easily, and I can hear them clearly, except for the occasional interference from other stations, mostly Japanese ones on my side.
Besides that, I am checking daily into three other maritime mobile nets: the Canadian DDD net, the Pacific M. M. net out of Hawaii and Tony's net out of New Zealand. The latter has given me quite a few contacts with other boats in this area, Guam and the Caroline Islands.
Yesterday the Pacific Maritime Mobile net was a victim of an American jammer out of Oregon, who has taken it upon him-self, to persecute all the maritime mobile nets which, in his opinion, operate illegally. However, he is the most illegal of all, as he refuses, to give his call sign. He has let it be known, circumspectly, that it is 'N0-GOD'. Personally, I think he left out an 'o' as the second last letter and neglected to change the '0' to an 'o'. Since once he gets tired of harassing maritime mobiles, he starts to blaspheme all Christian religions, especially Southern Baptists, I doubt he would want to appropriate the name of the Almighty for himself. But then, if one changes the '0' to an 'o' only, that would indicate, he wishes to advertise he is an atheist, which he obviously is. Somehow, with all the interruptions from this strong station, we struggled through the roll call of some eight boats.
I was also listening, to what is known as 'Rowdy's Net' (Southeast Asia Maritime Mobile). It turns out, he is an unlicensed amateur, having been run out of Hongkong and Singapore, he now operates out of Phuket, Thailand. He has been at it for some twenty years, and has collected quite a following. Most of the check-ins have Costa Rica and Liberia call signs, all boaters who obviously also have never been licensed, and having just grabbed a call sign out of thin air. The trouble is, that there really is no other net in that pirate infested area, to which to turn to for information. I shall have to thread a very thin line there, to take advantage of the net, without getting disqualified myself, as it is illegal for a licensed amateur, to communi-cate on the air with somebody, who is not licensed. I guess, the Thai government does not care all that much. Since he pro-vides a real service to the boating community in that area, they probably close both eyes, as they do so in many other similar situations. Quite different from western governments, who operate to the letter of the law, and do not allow for situations, which obviously merit an exception.
One of these illegal stations called in yesterday, that they were just
25 miles out of Puerto Princesa, Palawan in the Philip-pines, getting ready
to leave their anchorage inside the reef, and a (Philippine?) gun boat
had stopped outside, apparently waiting for them, to come out. One other
station agreed, to keep up communications with them on another frequency,
so that they could report, on a minute-by-minute basis, what, if anything,
happened, as they were passing it, or were stopped. As it turned out, they
were not bothered, the gun boat just having anchored there for a rest (?).
I also heard on the net, that a 'pirate squad' had been formed, to protect
shipping through the Straits of Malacca and the Singapore Straits. Whether
it was a strictly Singaporean outfit, or a multi-national force (Singapore,
Malaysia, Indonesia), I did not catch.
22 March 1992, 13 degrees N - 149 degrees E
The day after tomorrow at this time, I should be cruising up the southwestern coast of Guam, and getting ready to enter Apra harbour at around noon. Today the winds are more amenable, than they had been for the last two days, when it had been blowing in the high twenties, with gusts in the thirties and frequent showers. A lot of moisture has been collecting in the boat, and today I have spread a lot of things out in the cockpit for at least some superficial drying. In Guam I shall be staying at a regular marina, with water and electricity at the dock, and I shall make an effort, to rinse everything in freshwater, and dry it thoroughly, including my seat cushions. Especially the ones near the hatch seem to be perpetually moist. They may dry out in the sun, but as soon as the sun disappears, the salt in them draws the moisture out of the air. Those are the ones, which got soaked a number of times in the gale near San Francisco. In fact, I shall take the covers off and launder them, apart from soaking the inner portions in fresh water.
I got a whole list of things to do in Guam, an entire page long; and looking at it, one week's stay does not nearly seem enough, to do them all. Although, I hardly wear any clothes at all, I need some laundry done in the worst way, mostly towels though. Guam is a duty free port, so it will be interesting to see, whether there are any bargains, to be picked up. For one, I shall buy a camera, the little MINOLTA, I had on board, I had to chuck overboard, as it was badly corroded. It was quite old by now, and ready to be replaced by something better. So this is a good excuse. Flashlights is another thing, which go fast on a boat. One has to buy the kind, where one can detach the back portion with the spring, to make contact with the negative end of the battery. This spring corrodes quickly, and has to be sandpapered often. If one cannot get at it, the whole thing has to be discarded.
I gathered more information on the places, I shall pass through. One ham, who had passed through Singapore, told me yachts had no problem with pirates in Malacca and Singapore Straits. The pirates were only after big freighters and tankers, because there were better pickings to be had there. There has not been a reported case of piracy on a yacht in that area for at least two years. Well, I guess I am last in the line amongst yachts for robbery at sea, because most of the others are bigger, and appear more likely to be loaded with goodies.
The ham nets also are great places, to pick up information, such as checking-in procedures at various ports, places to anchor and tie up, getting forwarding addresses etc. Just now I am in daily contact with an American boat 'Hymea', Dicky and his 'partner' Jill (her words), who is preceding me to the Philippines. They started out from Palau yesterday, and will be arriving in Cebu in about a week.
I changed my route plans again. It is still Tacloban as entry point for the Philippines, and the San Juanico passage between the islands of Leyte and Samar into the Visayan Sea. But then I shall go on to Boracay at the northern tip of Panay, and then straight across the northern part of the Sulu Sea to Puerto Princesa, with a likely stop in the Cuyo Islands. From Puerto Prin-cesa I shall continue single-handed to Singapore, and only then go up to Thailand, to pick up Su, to join me. This way I am saving at least two weeks of time in the critical time window before the monsoon turns in the South China Sea (as well as a few hundred dollars in air fares). I hate the idea, of having to fight head winds in that area. It will also be better for Su, not to get exposed to an extended sea passage that early in her sailing career. We shall miss cruising in the Philippines, but there is hardly time for that anyways, since I have to be in Phuket early in June.
The San Juanico Passage should be interesting, it is only some 200 metres wide in some areas, and passes under a major highway bridge, connecting the two islands. There will be plenty of clearance under the bridge for my boat.
One hour later,
After finishing writing the above, I tuned into Rowdy's net, having
first brought in all the things, I had left outside to dry, as I saw a
squall approaching from the east. A little later it hit. And it was not
like any of the other squalls, I had experienced before. This one packed
some real winds. Now, after most of it has passed, it is still blowing
35 knots or so. At the height of it, there were easily 45 knot winds. Anyway,
the wind was so strong, that the self-steering gear was unable, to prevent
the boat from broaching. The reefed mainsail set up a hell of a racket,
and looking out and up, I saw a tear in it, as well as the beginnings of
a second one. I hastily grabbed a plastic jacket, got out, and pulled the
sail down, in order to contain the dam-age. Then I hand steered the boat
downwind under bare poles for a while. Now that the winds are down to about
30 plus, I tried to re-engage the wind vane steering, and find that it
is easily able to steer the boat downwind under bare poles. And still I
am doing five knots. Once the sun comes out again, I shall pull up one
of the small jibs sails, and repair the damage on the mainsail.
Three hours later,
I inspected the mainsail, and found only two seams had opened up. This will happen even without heavy winds after long use. So I got out my sail repair kit, needle and thread, and sowed the seams up again. At this time the sail is up again and drawing. After that, I tried the radio. While there is no FM reception yet from Guam, I can receive four AM stations. As sure sign of approaching land. Just now I am listening to some nice Filipino popular music. The indigenous people of Guam are closely related to the Filipinos, also there are a lot of mainland Filipinos living there. Asia, here I am at last! Only 240 miles to go at noon today.