I Sail Away

Both of my brothers went through a very large effort to help me assemble some fishing equipment for the trip. Jeff sent a big package of plugs and gave me some lessons on exactly how to tie the knots, how to troll them behind the boat, etc. Greg sent his fishing reel. I pulled together the rest of the bits.

On the last 170 miles to Bahia de Tortuga, we assembled the fishing gear and strung it out behind the boat. At first, we dragged a pink, squid-looking thing behind us because the previous day, one had washed aboard. After about 45 minutes, I decided to change to a cedar plug.

Within 30 minutes, I got a big hit (it felt big because we were doing 8 knots under sail) and proceeded in pulling in a perfect-sized 15-lb Yellowfin Tuna. After we got it aboard, I cleaned it (it had been feeding on similar sized fish), and we immediately sauteed 4 filets in olive oil with some onions. We put four more filets in the refrigerator, and for dinner, I made foil-pouched yellowfin with carrots, onions, potatoes, garlic, bell peppers, and lemons. Mmmmm.

Thanks Greg and Jeff for feeding us in the middle of the Pacific–that we awesome!

Eve–thank you so much for the rum cake to celebrate our voyage and my birthday! We stored it in the refrigerator for nearly a week, and after our dinner at Bahia de San Quintan, we shared a nice single-malt scotch and washed it down with some rum cake. It was wonderful. Thank you!

Late in every afternoon, there is a 7:30pm Happy Hour on the Single Side-Band Radio (SSB) and sailors get together and talk about things. There was a big discussion about the weather because a storm was supposedly blowing into our path. We had some repairs to make to the head (on-board toilet), and no one could bear the thought of repairing it while sloshing around in big seas. So, we changed our course and headed in towards the shore to a little anchorage called Bahia de San Quintan.

The Cruising Guide described this as a “rolly” anchorage. We found what we thought was a nice place to anchor, and we set the hook for the boat. There were a few others around us, but several other boats were moored over on the other side of the bay.

Once on the hook, part of the crew finished the head repairs, one crew completed miscellanous tasks around the boat, and I cooked a nice dinner (pesto chicken burritos with onions, garlic, tomatoes and cheese), cracked a bottle of wine, and sat around the dining table together.

Afterwards, we had a little dessert and some after dinner drinks, and then headed to bed.

A couple of times during the night, I got up to check the status to the boat (as did the others). The wind had shifted and we were getting these strange rolling waves during the night.

Around 4:30am, I heard the roar of a wave . . . which proceeded in crashing right onto the boat and into the cockpit. I was thrown flying from my bunk and onto the cabin sole. (Not so nice wake-up call). We all got up to survey any damage (there was none) and make a plan for the day . . . and, we decided that rather than take another hour to reset the anchor somewhere else in the bay that two would volunteer to take the first watch, and we would move forward. I volunteered, and we were off!

All-in-all, about 60 boats moored in Bahia de San Quintan. I hope we were the only ones with THAT problem.

One of our crew members is German. Our spinnaker has the sparkles. Nathan and I brought the party. It seems like we have all the right ingredients for a German Sparkle Party!

Isaac . . . Nathan and I send our love! 😉

How do you divide labor to watch and care for a sailboat that needs your constant attention 24 hours a day while under way? All of the other crew members have great experience with this–especially our Captain who is best friends and has sailed extensively with Commodor Thompkins (arguably one of the best sailors in the world).

So, from the beginning of sailing, ships are operated in watches, and ours is no different. Fortunately, we have four crew members, so a single watch is four hours with 2 crew members on watch.

On the delivery with just the Captain and myself, we had 4 hour watches during daylight. At night, we shortened the watches to 2 hours because you are really tired, it is harder for your body to generate heat to keep you warm because it is cold, and more difficult to detect other ship traffic–so you really must be alert. A two hour shift is much more get a significant amount of sleep. By the time you come below, get out of your fowlies, get wound-down, eat something, brush your teeth, crawl into bed, and fall asleep, you have already burned 35 minutes of your 2 hours.

With the full crew, however, life is much better. Even within your shift, if one of the two is tired, the other can cover for a bit and allow the second sailor to get some rest. And, you have enough to talk over major decisions–course changes, a second sighting on another ship or object, etc. It seems a bit luxurious by comparison.

On this trip, our schedule has been 4 hours day-and-night with two sailors per shift. We agreed to share the shift around dinner time because it gives us the opportunity to talk, make and eat dinner together, and make group decisions.

I have discovered the hard way that if you do not sleep during your day shifts, you are going to be terribly tired at night. One of my night shifts had come around, and I had only had 2 hours of sleep from 4am the previous night until midnight when the sleep shift began. During the sleep shift, there was a major operation–we had to send Nathan up the mast to get a batten that was coming out of the main sail. For a major operation like that, all sailors need to be on-deck . . . no matter what you have going on. With that, two hours of sleep was burned, and then we needed to charge the batteries, so the motor chugged along in my ear for the remaining two hours, and I was able to get all of nothing in the way of sleep.

Let’s just say that the next four hours of my watch were not-so-pleasant on 2 hours of sleep.

We stopped off at Morro Bay to drop off one of our crew members and to rest, and Britta showed up with a care package of cookies and sunscreen! The cookies have been wonderful (there are still a handful left) . . . .

Thank you, thank you, Britta.

And, were off! A few more minutes to the Mexican border. Weve got the spinnaker up, and we are sailing.

More soon!

My apologies for the lack of updates–there are some wonderful and crazy stories to tell from the delivery leg.

But, right now, we have 40 minutes until the boat departs for the starting line.

Pictures and stories to come–I promise!

Some not so good news for the adventure. Hurricane Rick is on a crash-course for Cabo San Lucas. It is currently a Category 5 Hurricane which originated around Acapulco and was headed out to sea. It made a turn north (and for the worse) towards Cabo San Lucas–who were just blasted 2 months ago by another Hurricane. More Hurricane info about Hurricane Rick is available at the National Hurricane Center.

The Grand Poo-bah of the Baja Ha-ha has said that the 190-boat fleet will hold in San Diego until the storm has passed if it poses a problem. At this time, we are proceeding with the delivery to get the yacht down to San Diego to join the rest of the fleet. But, we are watching the weather . . . .

I’ll keep you posted.

This is the boat–Marishanna.

And, actually this is our exact team (I am the one in red on the high-side and sitting forward). In this image, we are suited up and racing towards Monterey for this years Spinnaker Cup.

As for this trip, our team is coming around the final corner and in the home stretch. I am working like crazy to get everything finished, and it looks like we are going to make it–and, I am very excited.

A big thanks to both of my brothers for their support on this trip–you guys are awesome.