The travels of Viridian...

 YOU CAN HAVE TOO MUCH BLUE 

CROSSING THE FIRST PART OF THE PACIFIC FROM PANAMA TO THE MARQUESAS

Mentioning that you are crossing the Pacific has the immediate effect of inspiring awe and wonder in your listener, with immediate responses of ‘wow!’ and ‘aren’t you afraid?’, or ‘that is so brave!’

I’m actually likening it to childbirth.  Once you’ve started down the path and got on the Pacific side of Panama, there are few other options, so you keep going, not really knowing what to expect and hoping for the best.  Like childbirth, those who do it again have to go through a period of forgetting until the pain has dimmed.  I’m pretty sure at this moment, 26 days into it, that I won’t be doing it again.

Don’t get me wrong.  I’m glad we have done it, but what a tedious bloody journey it is. I wished for uneventful and thankfully that is definitely what it has been, the highlights being particularly mundane when I try to capture them here.

We are conditioned to thinking in weeks, so our journey has been easy to categorise by the events of each week.  We expected to take between four and five weeks, so when we arrive as scheduled on Wednesday 19th, we will have taken exactly four weeks.

D day - departure day was one of great excitement and anticipation.  I felt quite tearful as we left La Playita in Panama City and headed straight out into the unknown. I was probably over emotional as had just sent our daughter Miranda (the potentially only surviving member of our family if anything went wrong) a list of our assets and Ed had sent her his will too. I also had a last conversation with my 92-year-old mum and then the internet faded. 

We were on our own.

 

We were well prepped on pre-cooked meals.  our new freezer was a huge asset.

Spirits were high. The boat was well provisioned.  No cupboard space was unfilled.  Spare food spilled from every cranny.  The fridge and freezer were groaning and struggling to keep cold.  Bags and boxes of fruit and veg littered the cabin floors and hung in string bags from door handles. The grab bags were ‘handily’ close at hand in case of an emergency evacuation to the life raft, but less handily they were in the way and kept sliding across the saloon when we rolled. We were equipped with thousands of movies, books on kindle, a jigsaw of St Basil’s in Moscow, a chess and backgammon set and the ever-essential pack of cards for shithead.  All the ingredients for a happy life.  

 

The boys are in buoyant mood as we leave Panama

Even the thought of no alcohol for the duration, was not a mood dampener at this point. 

Hopes of catching fish were stratospheric.  Greg had bought yet another fishing rod and I had bought him a set of colourful squid lures for his birthday.  I was secretly hoping not to catch much for a few days as we had no fridge space to put it in, but as it turned out that has not been a problem; because to date, despite several bites from some massive fish, and loss of lures, we have not landed a single one.  Greg was soon disappointed in his new expensive rod, as it seemed not to make any noise when there was a bite, which resulted in us discovering a fully run out line with nothing, including the squid lure on the end of it.  In an email exchange with Jamie of Hamble Warrior, we discovered the secret to the reel making a noise on pay out and we also discovered that the colourful range of squids was linked to fishing at different times of day rather than to coordinate the colours with whatever swimwear you had on that day.  Optimistically we followed this sage advice but by then we were in the deep ocean and convinced that marine life was non-existent. We did manage a couple of fish that we landed and ate. 

One of our catches

Our first day was great. There was wind and we set off at pace.  The watch system kicked in and we were all keen to do our bit and have fun.  Then by day 3 of week one it is fair to say that the wind absolutely died.  Greg spent a lot of time interrogating the various downloaded charts and consulting ‘Weather Bob’ on what to do, but the light wind area was massive and predicted to be there for days; not the forecast we had seen when we set off.  

It was pretty flat and endless

 

 

Gr

Flat seas are great for cooking though.  Ed and I had a focaccia bake off competition

 

After bobbing about on glossy water for quite a few hours, the mood turned slightly after we made the mistake of looking at the predicted arrival date, which is calculated by the onboard electronics based on current speed and distance to the target.  The engine went on. 

After a few days of intermittent motoring and bobbing about attempting to sail, we took the decision to head towards Galapagos, with a view to having the option to top up our fuel there if things didn’t improve.

Things didn’t improve, and so we made arrangements with an agent to check in for a short refuelling stop in San Cristobal in the Galapagos.  Greg was not a happy bunny.  The cost of just stopping and not visiting any of the islands was 300USD for the agent 200USD for the inspection of the boat, 300 USD for coming into the waters of the National Park and then the cost of the fuel, which was comparatively surprisingly reasonable.  On the plus side, as we approached the Galapagos we saw whales, dolphins and of course enjoyed being amongst the sea lions in the bay at San Cristobal.  

 

Birds are always an indicator of nearby land. This guy hitched for days. They do an amazing amount of shit considering we never saw him/her eat.

 

 

This guy spent all night farting next to my face.  His bum is literally by our bedroom window

Have you ever slept with your nose literally inches away from the arse of a seal?  Let me tell you it absolutely stinks.  Our cabin is at the stern of the boat and has two small windows over the transom.  They are always open but have a mosquito screen in the opening.  The pillows are just under the windows. A massive seal decided to sleep on our transom, snoring, farting and shitting all night.  It was the most bizarre experience to be sleeping so close to a wild animal with all its bodily functions in full flow and I will forever recall the morning view of our transom, after the seal had left.

Leaving Galapagos marked the start of week two.  Buoyed by our over full fuel tanks and containers with spare fuel, we headed out into the deep and that is the last time we have seen a vessel. After a quiet start, we managed to get down to the trade winds and started really sailing.  What a relief.  Greg was now happier and soon we were flying along.  Alongside flying along, comes more challenges in cooking and moving about the boat, but generally we were in good form in week 2, settling into our watch system, watching an episode of Black Sails each night.  Reading books and playing games.  We were making quite good progress. The precooked freezer food was now in play and that was going well.  We were still doing quite well on fresh fruit and veg although much of it was less tasty and robust compared to the provisions we had managed to get for our Atlantic crossing in Gran Canaria.

The provisions we bought in Panama did not last well on the journey

Week three was a bit patchy.  It’s fair to say that the nights of broken sleep started to catch up with us and tempers were a little shorter.  We experienced a mixture of lighter winds interspersed with bursts of strong winds and squalls.  This was a period when it seemed surely, we would incur some damage as we had to pole out the genoa and use a 'preventer' to prevent the boom banging. But she is a sturdy boat and Greg spent several weeks before departure testing and replacing any potentially vulnerable parts, so she was well prepared and maintained in readiness for the trip - so far, nothing has broken. We are pleased that we renewed our rigging and have kept everything serviced.  We had the bottom cleaned and painted in Panama City, which will have helped with our overall speed.

 

Ed decided to match his outfit to the spinnaker.  Lots of time on our hands

We had several attempts at launching the spinnaker and finally got it up in the right conditions, but our speed didn’t change that much from white sails wing on wing, so the effort to outcome ratio was too low and we abandoned that plan. 

One of my most memorable dawn watches was as we crossed the inter tropical convergence zone and I saw the different winds spinning out in what was an amazing cloud formation, backed by the dawning sun.  It was awesome.

 

Absolute stunning start to the day

The film that characterised week 3 was surely Groundhog Day.  The predicted arrival date kept being the same even though we had moved on 150 miles in the last 24 hours, but just not towards the target.  It was depressing and seemingly ever out of reach. Time to get out the jigsaw of St Basil’s.

 

Ed managed to keep fit on the calm bits

Most of the fruit was now eaten and the only veg remaining were onions, potatoes, squash, a few carrots and a cabbage. Our new freezer came into its own as we have managed to eat great food pre-cooked and frozen, making it relatively easy to reheat in challenging conditions.

Week four feels more optimistic as we have been in predicted single figures of days to get there.  Tantalisingly soon when we surf down a massive wave at 9 knots and then depressingly not so soon when we are pottering along. But we feel the end is in sight.

If this week was characterised by a film it’s the Deerhunter.  Every time I crack an egg, it’s like playing Russian roulette.  Will it be the fetid vomit inducing sulphurous one or not?  Only three eggs left now and all past their sell by date.  Bravery is now required to crack and indeed eat them. 

Ed had a very bad day yesterday. Like many people who are living at one with nature, the gods take on greater importance.  Ed was yesterday convinced that the sea gods were against him as a massive wave soaked and destroyed his Macbook.  Then later, when he was sitting in the cockpit reading, an attempt on the life of his kindle was made by another wave.  He retired to bed for a while to remind himself of why he’s doing this. 

We have abandoned the jigsaw.  Once we had completed the buildings all we were left with was blue sky and there’s absolutely tons of it.  We have lost enthusiasm for large expanses of endless blue, so we have put it back in the box to donate to someone with more patience than us. 

Our conversation has turned now to what we are most looking forward to.  It was beer and a bar for quite a long time, but now it is just 10 minutes of not rolling about, or a full night’s sleep.  It’s funny how your priorities change.

But finally we saw land.  I can't explain or adequately describe the feelings of euphoria we all experienced.  It felt like a massive achievement, unequalled in many ways. After 4 weeks at sea without alcohol, it felt appropriate to crack a tinny and congratulate ourselves.  Coming into harbour in Hiva Oa, everyone who had arrived already clapped.  They knew how we felt and we appreciated the round of applause. There is a lot of shared camaraderie in sailing round the world which we really value. 

 

First sight of Hiva Oa in the Marquesas 

A celebratory beer