We just completed our 19 day, ~3,000 nautical mile, passage from the Galápagos Islands to Hiva Oa in the Marquesas Islands. Our longest passage ever! (Hooray for us!) Rather than give you a day-to-day account of a nearly 3 week sail, at a high level we’d sum up the experience this way: If we were to judge all sailing across the South Pacific based on this passage we’d have to say that the “easy” downwind sailing we signed up is hyperbole — bordering on bait and switch! In fact, one morning on the SSB radio net (that’s our daily communication with the fleet while underway), someone actually mused out loud (somewhat facetiously but still) “What happened to that calm downwind sailing with following seas they told us about when we signed up for the World ARC Pacific? We thought the sailing was supposed to be the easy part!” For most of the passage we experienced a range of conditions: confused seas with big waves and calm seas, sunny days and days filled with squalls, wind and no wind (or near no wind), nice E/SE trade winds and winds veering to the E/NE making it difficult to sail the most direct route from point A to point B (known as the rhumb line) and fast sails clipping along at 9 – 10 knots with a current push and very slow sails under 5 knots. It was nirvana or, lets just say, it wasn’t! It was truly a Yin and Yang trip with moments of euphoria and moments of exasperation:
Eu·pho·ri·a /yo͞oˈfôrēə/ noun: a feeling or state of intense excitement and happiness. Like when either of us are alone on a night watch cruising at 8 knots and, initially, a vibrant moon creates a creamy light grey sky but then sets to reveal brilliant stars surrounded by total darkness or we witness that flash of green light that can be seen (if we are ever so lucky) just as the sun sets behind the ocean on the horizon.
Ex·as.per.a.tion / /iɡˌzaspəˈrāSH(ə)n,eɡˌzaspəˈrāSH(ə)n/ noun: a feeling of intense irritation or annoyance. Like when the confused seas produced big and “lumpy” waves that: (1) made it difficult (if not impossible) to sleep or navigate around the boat without feeling like a human ping pong ball; (2) produced the buckets of water that poured through open side ports that allowed us to get at least a little fresh air down below; or (3) added an element of danger to Jill’s galley duties giving her a nice selection of burns to complement her collection of black and blue marks.
And then there were the days of real memorable moments. We took a vote and top honors goes to the day that we experienced an engine failure. It started like any other day — Jill had completed the 9 – Midnight watch and climbed into bed looking forward to some sleep. Unfortunately, it was a particularly rolly and noisy night. The wave motion had our boat rocking from side to side in a less than gentle fashion and the light winds (down to 4 knots at times) meant that our sails were flapping loudly as they would slack and then a puff of wind would get them back in shape. Needless to day, it was not a night conducive to sleep. After tossing and turning in bed for 2 1/2 hours Jill decided to get up and read. This occurred right before our next crew change at 3 AM when Mark would finish his shift and Lane would come up for his. Given the light winds Jill thought that a crew change was the ideal time to suggest that maybe we should turn on the engine. With the engine assist we would be changing the apparent wind speed and angle, allowing us to modify our sail plan and minimize the consistent jerk motion we were feeling as the sails reacted to the current wind patterns. But Zack is the captain so Mark and Lane were hesitant to fire up the engine without his consent. (You will just have to read the bubble coming out of Jill’s head on that one. 🤐). Fortunately, at just that moment, Zack (who is ordinarily on the 6 – 9 shift) got out of bed because he, too, couldn’t sleep. When Jill suggested that we turn on the engine he agreed and on went the “iron” genny. Fortunately, and we cannot stress that word enough, Zack was monitoring the engine temperature and noticed that it quickly reached dangerously hot levels. He quickly tuned off the motor in response. There are a limited number of primary suspects when a marine engine overheats with the most common being something — a blockage or a broken impeller — that is preventing the engine cooling system from ingesting sea water, circulating it around the engine and then expelling it back out off the boat.
To diagnose whether that was the issue we just needed to turn the engine back on and see if water was spitting out from the stern of our boat. But, before we did that, Zack went to check the strainer that is part of the water intake mechanism on the cooling system to see if there was a blockage there. These strainers are specifically designed to trap things in the ocean water that could clog the cooling system and, as you can imagine, if there is a blockage there no water is flowing. If that was the cause this would be an easy, peasy fix — just clean out the strainer. What Zack was horrified to discover is that the filter that fits securely down in the cooling system compartment was not in the compartment at all but was laying in the bottom of our engine room floor! Someone who last serviced the engine had forgotten to reassemble it and we had been operating our engine without a strainer since at least February! Fortunately, the impeller which causes the water to circulate also has teeth which would prevent large objects from circulating through the system. The problem is that with out a strainer the impeller can be easily damaged, loosing its teeth, and making it totally ineffective. At this point Zack turned the engine back on while Lane looked for an outflow of water — there was none. That told us that the impeller was the likely culprit.
Fortunately, we have spares!!!! This was now the third spare part we had purchased in advance of our trip that we used, making us feel very good about the investment we made in spare parts. (And, BTW, it was a huge investment; much larger than we had budgeted for. So, while we aren’t truly happy when things fail we do get this giddy perverse satisfaction when we actually use a part). With a probable diagnosis and the right spare the question became whether we replaced the impeller at 3 AM (by this time it was closer to 4 AM) or waited until morning. The sea state, on a relative basis, was calm by this point so Jill suggested that it was best to do the repair now, in seas we knew, than wait until the morning when the seas could be more calm but could also be less calm. (Ever try to remove tiny screws while swinging from a trapeze?). Besides, no one was really sleeping with concerns about the engine hanging like the sword of Damocles over our heads. As you might imagine, though we always prefer to get from point A to point B with a wind assist, when it comes to weather (especially on long passages) there are no guarantees. That makes a working engine a pretty essential piece of equipment when you have 1,600 nautical miles left on a 3,000 nautical mile journey. So, decision made, we were replacing the impeller right then. Zack was the surgeon, Jill was the surgical assistant giving him tools and holding critical parts while Lane helped with various odds and ends and, importantly, served as an important “second opinion” on the state of the existing impeller once Zack was able to remove the plate and visualize it.
All was going well. Zack and Lane agreed that the impeller was shot and, therefore, was very likely the cause of the failure of the cooling system. Now it was time to replace the existing impeller with our spare. During the removal operation Zack handed Jill 4 very greasy screws that held the plate that protected the impeller in place. We needed to have those accessible for the reassembly but Jill also needed her hands to hold open the engine compartment door and the bright flashlight that allowed Zack to see what he was doing. So during the intermission between the removal of the plate and the replacement of the impeller Jill wanted to place the screws in a small but sturdy bowl that would make the screws easily accessible while eliminating the danger of them rolling away. But first she had to wash her greasy hands so she didn’t get grease all over our dish ware as she rummaged for the right bowl. While at the sink Jill heard what sounded like something falling off the counter — not really unusual because things fall off the counter all the time in a rocking boat except that Jill didn’t remember leaving anything on the counter. She looked on the floor of the unlit galley to see what might have fallen and saw a dark shadow. Before picking it up she instinctively turned on the galley light and to her surprise, right in the middle of our galley rug, there was one of the largest flying fish we had ever seen flopping around, causing her to let out an alarming shriek. Apparently, the fish let himself (or herself) in through one of the ports Jill opens while cooking to keep the galley cool. (Note to Jill for future reference: close those galley ports when done cooking! More about other lessons learned on flying fish below). Zack still had half his body in the engine compartment but Lane came to the rescue and picked up the very much alive fish with paper towel to return it to sea. It was not easy. Between the fish’s size, movements and slimy body it took Lane a couple of tries to secure him. (For the record, Jill’s hands were too small to get around the fish otherwise she would have attempted the capture and release.). Following our fun with flying fish, we completed the impeller replacement. The operation was a success and, upon turning the engine back on, we were delighted to see a healthy stream of water flowing from our stern! With that mission accomplished, Jill had the extra bonus of cleaning the galley rug. That flying fish left a long trail of scales and slime on our runner. After having more fun than we ever should have been allowed to have it was now time for Zack to take over for his watch and Jill went back to bed to get a few hours sleep before she was back on at 9:00 AM. We lead a glamorous life!
In second place for most memorable is the situation with our tri-color and navigation lights. For reasons we can’t explain these lights are working inconsistently at best. The tri-color lights are the red, green and white lights on the top of our mast that allows other boats see us at night and discern our direction (e.g., we heading towards you or away from you) based on the position of the lights. Our navigation lights are basically the same thing but the green and red lights sit on the bow of the boat with the white light in the stern. Though we have an AIS system that transmits our location, not all fishing boats (particularly the smaller ones) have that system and they depend on seeing our lights to avoid us. We thought the issue was a loose connection or a bad switch but after testing the switches and taking down the headliner in our aft head to visualize the wire connections, we ruled out both causes. It is a true mystery because they work intermittently, going off and on, at different times. The only things we haven’t ruled out is the presence of gremlins or perhaps an insufficient sacrifice to Neptune when we crossed the equator. (Zack told Jill we should have taken our crossing more seriously!). Whatever the cause and the related solution — mechanical work or witchcraft — it will have to wait until we get to the Marquesas Islands (and most likely beyond that). In the meantime, we are turning on our mast uplighting and anchor lights to make sure we are visible.
The bronze metal goes to the repair of our combined washer/dryer unit. Those who have been reading along with our blog may recall that we broke the mechanism that causes the door to latch securely and, without that working, you can’t start the unit. After an autopsy, we found the broken plastic piece and glued it back in place with gorilla glue. Thankfully, the repair worked (and, in the words of Melanie Hamilton, that wasn’t the first time that gorilla glue came between us and disaster) but we knew that it was only a matter of time before the repair failed. As a result, when we were in the States for our sailing sabbatical we bought a replacement part from the manufacturer and that was one of the many things that helped us fill the 9 pieces of luggage we brought back with us to Trinidad. Though we had the part we decided against making the repair right away because it is a delicate operation requiring us to remove the entire door. We figured we would make the switch when the repair no longer held. Of course it decided to fail on our long passage — and just when the crew was very excited about laundry day — so we had no choice but to fix the door. (Clean clothing is only second to a shower on the list of things we look forward to on a long passage!). The repair was tricky because there were no instructions and lots of tiny parts to hold on to and stick a small dowel through while rocking back and forth in very confused seas but we figured it out and, much to the delight of our crew, the operation was a success. Another spare put to good use!
Finally, honorable mentions go to the best “I told you so moment.” After the flying fish invasion Jill decided that it wasn’t a great idea to leave the side ports in our cabin open at night. While they give us great cross ventilation, in Jill’s mind, that was not enough justification to risk a flying fish torpedoing through an open port and onto our bed (or, worse yet, us) while we were in it. As a result, Jill closed both side ports and we relied on only the large hatch over our bed that opens up to the aft deck of our boat. Little risk of a flying fish getting in there. One day Jill noticed that Zack had opened his side port while napping. After he awoke she told him he should be keeping the side ports closed to prevent an uninvited flying fish guest from joining us in bed. He said “that can’t happened because we have a screen on those side ports” to which Jill replied “Are you kidding me. Given the velocity with which those flying fish seem to travel they will knock out the screen.” Convinced by his own logic, Zack did not close his side port. (Jill left hers closed.) Fast forward to the next day and you know where this is going . . . Jill is in the galley washing dishes after dinner and Zack is in the salon putting the Instant Pot away when we hear a crash. Again, there was nothing on the counters so Jill started opening cupboards to see if anything fell over but her search did not reveal a cause for the noice. Determined to find the source she turned on the light in our cabin and there, flapping on the floor, was a flying fish. Not the monster size of the previous intruder but a flying fish nonetheless. Of course, Jill screamed again (we are not sure why she does that!) and Zack came to grab the flying fish and liberate him or her back into the ocean. The noise we heard, of course, was not the flying fish landing on the floor but, rather, the sound of the screen hitting the floor after being knocked out of the window by the flying fish. Fortunately, the flying fish did not reach our bed (we think the screen helped there) but we did see its trail of slime and scales on the landing below the window and the floor of our cabin near the door to the galley. Apparently flying fish bounce. We got a good laugh from the situation and Jill enjoyed her brief moment of acknowledged clairvoyance. If only she could be so good when we buy lottery tickets!
You will note that we did not list any marine animal sightings in our list. Alas, despite our best efforts to spot dolphins or whales, we didn’t have a single encounter. That was highly unusual and a bit disappointing. Seeing these magnificent creatures is always a highlight of our passages. That said, after a sailboat doing the Galápagos to Marquesas passage just 6 weeks before us hit a whale and sank — fortunately, the experienced crew escaped unscathed — we have a new appreciation for the risks inherent when humans enter the habitat of other species. (Though, to be clear — before we give our parents and children something else to worry about — a collision with a whale significant enough to sink a sailboat is very, very rare!). We are in awe of how the captain and crew handled the situation. You can read the story here: https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2023/03/23/sailboat-sunk-whale-crew-rescue-south-pacific/11524025002/#. If the marine animal sightings were a bust, the night skies made up for it. We had the best of both worlds at night — an early rising moon that lit up the heavens and created the most beautiful glitter path across the ocean to the side of our boat and an early setting moon that allowed us to enjoy brilliant stars against a pitch black night sky.
As we said, though we enjoyed preserving specific memories (shared above), we decided against a day-by-day diary of this passage. It was just too long. (You are welcome.) That said, we will mention three things about this passage that were unique. First, we have an extra crew member aboard. As you know, Lane joined us in the Galapagos for the sail to the Marquesas Islands. Though he is a seasoned bluewater sailor, he is doing this trip on his own boat, Corsair, next year and wanted the additional experience of doing this long passage. The extra crew member means shorter watches (3 vs 4 hours) and more sleep (9 hours between shifts vs 8). For a passage that was expected to be between 17-20 days, that’s a big difference. Of course, it also means feeding 4 people for 3 weeks with limited fridge/freezer space and no ability to run out to the store to grab more onions but that was a small price to pay for the extra downtime.
The second difference was the addition of Starlink to our array of communication systems. What a game changer! Though Starlink was getting very popular among cruiser about 9 months before we took off on our circumnavigation, we hesitated to add it to our systems for several reasons. First, there were mixed reports about connectivity in the South Pacific where we were headed. Second, and related, we had already invested heavily in hardware to support our KVH satellite system (which we knew would work in the South Pacific) and were hesitant to buy Starlink hardware for $2500 without similar guarantees. And, finally, there was this little concern about “geofencing.” Specifically, the maritime version of Starlink had a monthly fee of $5,000 per month. Definitely out of our price range and the price range of the average cruiser. What most cruisers are buying is the Starlink “RV” package which was just $150/ month. Of course, this package is not supposed to work offshore — except it is working and working well because these satellites don’t really care where you are — but Starlink has expressed its plan to geofence users based on the plan purchased. So, for example, RV users would be geofenced to an area within land so they could not use the Starlink offshore.
But the satellite communication world, including Starlink, is rapidly changing. First, Starlink launched more satellites and closed up most of its holes in the South Pacific. Second, they now offer 2 new plans: RV global roam for $200 per month and a new maritime package for $1000/month. Even the $1000/month maritime package would be a considerable savings for us when you factor in the cost of Starlink and a backup plan. Plus the hardware sold with the RV global roam package was just a one time $600 cost. Technically, the RV global roam package is still designed for RV travelers who may travel internationally. The final punchline is that we purchased the RV global roam package and had the hardware delivered to Lane who graciously delivered it to us In Galapagos. We would have loved to (and would still love to) purchase the maritime package but the new maritime plan wasn’t available when we made the decision to purchase the RV global roam plan (and, importantly, in time for Lane to bring the maritime hardware with him to the Galapagos). Plus, the maritime plan requires different hardware and Starlink doesn’t ship between our next destination (the Marquesas) and Australia so we have to wait until we arrive in Australia to make that change. So, in the meantime, we are Starlink RV global roam customers anxious to be maritime customers. As we will wax poetically about below, functionally, Starlink is amazing. As we said, a true game changer. (Sorry for all the detail about plans, hardware and geofencing but our sailing friends will appreciate it. If you think we are kidding consider that there is not just one but two separate Starlink groups on FB designed for boaters where these topics are discussed and debated, ad nauseam, every day!).
With Starlink we can download weather, wind and current data quickly without data limits that slow down the speed. Under the crazy expensive package we purchased with our primary satellite system, the data speed slowed down to an almost unworkable speed after a very low level of data usage. That meant we had to be very judicious with our data use. We fired up our satellite just twice a day and used it primarily for weather and checking emails. No surfing the internet, reading the New York Times, etc. or making phone calls (unless it was an emergency). Of course, there is an upside to the lack of connectivity — a forced “unplugging” if you will. Without an internet or cellular connection we read more books, (gasp) we talk to one another, we stare at the night sky and look out at the horizon to spot marine animals. In other words, we engage in the wonders around us. We don’t want to lose that because those moments are so much of what makes our passages special. So we are placing self-imposed limits on our Starlink use. We use it on our terms to stay a bit more current on the news (okay, we play the daily Wordle too and Jill delights in her ability to read the NYTs Modern Love column that comes out every Friday) or touch base with our family but we are working hard to “pretend” it doesn’t exist! Still, Starlink has given us some priceless moments. Like when our granddaughter called us to thank us for her birthday present and, with assist from WhatsApp, we got to witness her broad and beaming smile — and hear her squeals — as she enjoyed the gift. We experienced that moment together from the middle of the South Pacific Ocean with no land in sight! In some ways, it’s the best of both worlds. We are far away from civilization, enjoying the oneness with and wonders of the sea and surrounding skies. It makes you appreciate the beauty, power, force and unpredictability of nature. Yet we can still share special moments with our granddaughters, making it easier (Jill would say bearable) to be away for such long periods of time.
And this discussion of our remoteness is a good segue to the third thing that is different about this passage. To be more specific, the remoteness is not what is new. What is new is that when you embark on a 3,000 nautical mile passage that you expect will take nearly 3 weeks you surrender yourself to the journey in a way that you don’t when you expect to be at sea for 8 – 10 days. For those shorter passages the end is in sight from day one so you find yourself caught up in the countdown rather than fully immersed in the experience. That is not to say that you don’t enjoy the constant watch for a whale or dolphin sighting, the magnificent sunsets and sunrises, the brilliance of the night skies or the sounds of the oceans but, without realizing it, in some sense, you’ve got one foot in the present and one foot in the future. It becomes more about the destination and less about the journey. When you know you will be sea for 3 weeks you allow it to swallow you. (Not literally — that would be a bad thing!) You aren’t counting the days (though in full disclosure you do celebrate as you click down on the miles) and, instead, your day-to-day becomes very similar to your routine while you are on land — different tasks, of course, but a consistent daily rhythm that doesn’t vary much. And somehow that engenders a contentment that envelops you, creating a warm and peaceful happiness that feels like love. (Our endorphins were on overdrive at times!) The things that break or malfunction still frustrate you (though not as much), and bouncing around a boat in confused seas remains highly unpleasant (see the definition of exasperation above), but the mental impact of the mindset shift from an “are we there yet” mode to place where you have settled in for the long haul can’t be overstated. It’s the difference between focusing on the anticipation of something vs. being present in the moment and, ironically, this actually makes the days fly by. You start to appreciate simple and silly things — like watching the joy of our two crew members, Mark and Lane — both “old guys” in their 60s — as they belted out tunes like Sailing Away (not very well we might add and we won’t even mention the related dance moves) while sitting shirtless in our coveted stern seats. It is at times like these (we are referring to this sense of heightened mindfulness and not, with all due respect to Mark and Lane, their antics) that we wish we had the writing skills of the great authors. We want to better capture how these passages make us feel so we can re-create those feelings when we read this blog to reminisce and also convey these feelings to others so they can share in the experience even if vicariously.
And last but not least, because it has become a feature of the blog entries covering our passages, we will share our passage dinner menu. Jill works hard to make nutritious and delicious meals with fresh ingredients while we are underway (there’s a lot of chopping in our galley, with the typical dinner taking 2-3 hours to prepare — remember, everything takes twice as long on a boat!) and it makes her feel appreciated when we share her menu. Keep in mind that while we had 19 nights at sea there aren’t 19 meals because, by popular demand, there were some repeats of crew favorites plus and we had four pot luck “leftover” nights. Still that was 15 freshly prepared meals for 4! In addition to ensuring that there was always a freshly baked loaf of bread in the galley (another shout out to our friend Laurie for recommending the mini bread machine!) and her house made “oh so lemony and garlicky white bean hummus” in the fridge at all times, Jill (mostly) delighted the crew with these dinners:
1. Cauliflower shawarma with harissa & garlic tahini sauce served over naan
2. Eggplant parmesan with pasta in marinara sauce and a side of Caesar salad
3. Chickpea pumpkin curry served over brown rice
4. Thai peanut noodles with crispy tofu (x2)
5. Seared sesame seed encrusted tuna with a soy, ginger glaze and oven roasted potatoes (x2)
6. Crispy Mongolian tofu served over brown rice
7. Creamy garlicky miso pasta with caramelized mushrooms (x2)
8. Chana masala served over brown rice
9. Pasta with marinara sauce and Beyond Beef meatballs
10. Black bean chili with jackfruit
11. Pesto pasta with a side of broccoli
12. White bean chili with jackfruit
Of course, Jill did hope that none of the Che Figata crew saw the pictures being posted by other crews in our fleet of freshly baked lemon bundt cakes and cinnamon rolls or the amazing pizzas that looked like they were flown in straight from Naples. If they did they didn’t say a thing and were very gracious about the plant-based, whole food, meals (save for the treat of fresh tuna enjoyed by Zack & Lane a few nights) they were served. (Well, when Jill asked Lane to rate his overall experience on the passage — we were looking for that 5 star rating — he did deduct a few points because we didn’t serve chicken for dinner a few nights.)
We arrived in Hiva Oa, part of the Marquesas archipelago in French Polynesia, at almost exactly 8:00 hours local time on May 1. Our first glimpse of the island was very dramatic with volcanic rock jutting out from lush greenery to touch the clouds. (Our feature photo for this blog captures that first look.) We have six weeks to explore the Marquesas, Tuamatus and Society Islands before meeting up with our fleet in Bora Bora on June 22. Prior to that there will be a rendezvous with the fleet in Nuka Hiva (also part of the Marquesas) on May 10 to celebrate the success of our longest passage. Our current plan is to post a blog after completing our tour of each of the 3 island chains but we will keep that fluid! Now on to explore (and have a nice dinner with libations)!
