DTF: 396 nm
(SS)
My perspective should be titled "Shaddup-a-ya face!" It seems like every time I whined about something my wish would be granted. In spades. The day that we crossed the equator we had unusually welcome wind (we were expecting dead calm); yes we were going upwind instead of the expected downwind, but we were really moving! All good. Around midnight the winds dropped into the low single digits and we had to turn the motor on. "What?", I whined, "all that great wind and now nothing? I really wish we had a bit more wind for sailing." Less than 12 hours later my wish was granted and then some. The perfect conditions from the day before were now magnified into winds that were in the high 20s and low 30s as squall after squall engulfed us over the next 2 days. Our beloved auto-pilot would have a hard time maintaining course when the winds immediately jumped into the 30s, so hand-steering was required to get back on course. Ugh. (We had been experiencing squalls off and on which was to be expected, but every time I piped up with "This is the biggest squall I've ever seen!" another, bigger, badder, squall would materialize as if to remind me that Mother Nature can be bigger and badder than imagined. This became a running joke and I was instructed to shaddup-a-ya face.)
On day #1 of Squall Days while Bruce was driving in the worst winds yet (and I remained on watch for moral support) we looked up and saw a tear and de-lamination starting in our mainsail between the 2nd and 3rd reef. Uh oh. We babied the sail as much as one can in those kinds of winds and waves, with plans to attempt a repair if the wind ever abated. When we were able to (when the wind and seas abated somewhat), Tom and I rigged the 3rd reef (lowered the sail and reduced sail area) to hide and protect the damaged area on the mainsail. This worked well. Later on the sun came out, the winds lessened temporarily, Tom and I dropped the mainsail to the deck, and we attempted to patch the tear(s) with some dacron sticky tape. This stuff is magic, but would it hold in these windy, wet conditions? Time would tell. The rest of the day and night we were either on the 3rd reef (damaged area protected) or we dropped the mainsail altogether, sailing (or motor-sailing) with jib only. And still going fast.
During this time another boat was very close to us. We had met Eric and Vandy aboard Scoots (52' sailboat) in La Paz before they traveled to Puerto Vallarta to prepare for this trip. They left PV a day before us, and coincidentally we ended up in the same patch of ocean just prior to the weather turning bad. We spoke to them on the VHF radio a few times, and also over the HF (Single Side Band) radio a couple of times per day when we got too far for the VHF. I wouldn't have wished our bad weather on anybody else, but it was very reassuring to have another boat close by. At least we could commiserate and share squall war stories. We weren't alone!
Day #2 of Squall Days was wet wet wet with constant, unceasing hard rain throughout the day. (And yes, I had stupidly commented that Cinnabar would need a good washing after yesterday's salt spray was all over the boat.) When we bashed for 3 days out of Kauai in 2010 we thought we'd found all of Cinnabar's leaks. Ha! Nothing like sitting under a waterfall to help one find more little areas where water can enter, not to mention the pools of water at the bottom of the companionway steps with all the comings and goings of crew on and off watch. I was dismayed to see water collecting in the folded mainsail where the patch was, drooping heavily and slowly leaking onto the boat. Also, with all the windows closed and temps in the high 80s, Cinnabar was like a sauna. With the galley funhouse on extreme overdrive, dinner that night would be a simple meal of Molletes (Mexican grilled cheese and refried bean sandwiches, they're excellent, try them!) and jicama sticks in lime juice. Easy to eat, hot comfort food, protein, and no plates needed. Oh, and chocolate truffle brownies of course.
This day we even pulled out our foul weather gear for rain protection. This is normally cold weather gear, so under my foulie longjohns I wore only my dainties which turned out to be a perfect combination. And I didn't have to coordinate my outfit!
That night I spoke to Scoots on the radio. They had just downloaded the most recent weather info and they reported we were in the midst of a huge area of strong convection (squall making weather) which was 500 miles wide by 200 miles tall. And we were only 20% of the way through it! Could we stand another 2-3 days of this stuff? Oh, to see the sun, the moon, a few stars. I was tired of mopping up water, worrying about my sail patch, and being sideways, but I dared not wish for a thing. Tomorrow would be another day.
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