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LOG ENTRY DATE: November 26,2003 Halfway there! We reached the 1380 mile mark this morning, Wednesday, November 26! That's the geographical mid-point... hopefully, though, the second half will be a faster one to travel over than the first! The long period of windlessness finally broke on Sunday, November 23, early in the morning. Up until that point, we had been averaging very slow days— no more than 100 miles or so, or a rough average of 4 knots. Sunday morning, however, ushered in what looks to be some solid trades: east to norteasterlies, with speeds of 12-20 knots. Since our direction is pretty much west, we've set Chase on a downwind run, with twin headsails, making 6 to 8 knots as we fly down the waves. The twin headsail rig is an interesting one... it involves unfurling and setting the big genny out on a pole to leeward (the port or south side, in this case), and then running a second sail (a 110% genoa) up the second groove in the headstay, alongside the big genny. The smaller sail is poled out—using the boom (the main flaked)—to our starboard (or north) side. The idea is to keep the boat pointed in a direction that keeps the big genoa constantly filled—as it is old and delicate—and allows any backwinding or collapsing to be done by the smaller one—which is has less use and is built of heavier cloth. The other thing about the this rig is that the Monitor wind steering rig loves it! It doesn't necessarily steer a straight course, but it always keeps the wind behind us, and keeps the smaller sail filled. At this point, it has been steering the boat for 3 days, without any adjustments from the crew. Apparently, this sail configuration is well balanced, meaning we have time to lounge in the cockpit or do chores, basically without having to worry about steering—even in 6' seas. This is the opposite of what would happen if we were using the hydraulic autopilot, as it would simply steer a chosen compass course, ignoring the wind direction, resulting in gibes and backwinding that could be both dangerous and damaging. So, the Monitor also is providing us with a measure of safety. The only problem with the monitor has been the servo-pendulum blade, which needed to be set back in line with the boat. To do this required working on it outboard of the boat—i.e. climbing over the rail and hanging over the water to reach the proper parts. As time has gone on, we've become more and more aware of our limited stores. This includes not only the fuel we've burned—at this point I'm rationing out the use of electricity (i.e. lights, the computer, etc.) so as to avoid charging the batteries any more than necessary—but water as well. We carry about 110 gallons on board, and have already used 43 gallons, which is less than half, but it still gives us pause. We also carry a fair amount of bottled water and fruit juices (and even an emergency 5 gallon water jug), but no one wants to run out! To try to augment our supply, we've taken to collecting rain water whenever possible. The drill for that is to simply dam off the deck area around the water fill with a towel, and let the water flow from down the deck and sails and right into the fill pipe. Although this works well when we get a good squall, it's only occurred twice, limiting our benefits from this scheme so far. Food-wise, we look pretty good. Our fresh food is pretty much gone, having been consumed over the first 8 days of sailing, but we've also been lucky enough to catch some fish on the way. One recent dorado was a pretty good sized one, and it came minutes before we were to start opening some cans for dinner! Still, we also have enough pasta, pesto, pizza dough, canned vegetables, etc., to last us a good long time. And, we've even begun experimenting with baking. . . so far, we've turned out brownies, loaves of bread, and pans of corn bread. Since our chore list is actually pretty small, we continue to be entertained by the wildlife, especially the shearwaters and the flying fish. We've also been visited on two occasions by pods of pilot whales. The crew continues to be happy, and to soak up the sun and enjoy what the trip has to offer. Since our watch schedule is pretty easy—we only stand real watches on the wheel from 2000 to 0800, taking one three-hour shift per person—there is time to read, talk, send emails, whatever. It's a good crew. . . anyone who knows the individuals wouldn't be surprised to hear that we all get along well. Ed is the one who always keeps us laughing; his sense of humor rarely quits, and is always right on the money when he's using it to make a point about a person or a situation. Nat is the self-described boating "poet"—meaning he doesn't cotton to the mechanical side of the boat but rather to the social side; his easy going inquisitiveness has us telling him all about ourselves, which he soaks up with lots of good humor. Tom is everyone's stalwart companion—always quick to help, always quick to add in a quip or add fuel to a funny story; he's always in a good mood that rubs off on everyone. Only I am the potential source of irritation, being my usually grumpy self in the morning, and forcing everyone to do my captainly bidding—right or wrong; I am hoping they will all have forgiven me when they see me ashore. |
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