And Then There Were Two...

Saturday 30 April 2016

Today we bade farewell to our intrepid crew Bruce who, knowing full well what he was getting into, helped us sail Cinnabar 3,000 miles across the Pacific Ocean. No doubt about it, our trip was a heck of a lot more pleasant with Bruce on board to lend his expertise and experience. Plus, we got to sleep more with an extra person on watch which is always a huge plus. Bruce returns to the SF Bay Area to do it all over again in 2 months, but on the 2016 Pacific Cup Race from SF to Hawaii (on Hobie 33 AERO). Thanks Bruce and good luck in the race!

Landfall at last! Beautiful Taiohae Bay in Nuku Hiva.

Bruce's last night, happy hour with local legend Rose (here since '72) at her restaurant. And just-arrived singlehander John from the UK (40 days from Panama and no squalls!). We meet lots of interesting people.

Waiting for Bruce's taxi at Le Snack

Mexico - Marquesas Passage - Stats/Notes

GPS track from Baja to the Marquesas, Note position relative to other territories.

(TC)
Just for the record, here are some stats on the trip:

Route:                     La Paz to SJ del Cabo, then direct Fatu Hiva, Marquesas
Distance Traveled:    3000 nm (taking an average of 3 diff stats: route dist:                                                      2768; GPS track 3349;and Knot log 3239)
Dates:                     2016, Apr 3 (Sun) to Apr 21 (Thu)
Duration:                 18.2 days (436 hrs) (17 days from Cabo)
Avg Boat Speed:       6.88 kts
Avg Dist. per Day:    165 nm     (lowest = 140 nm; highest = 210 nm)
Highest TWS:           35 kts
Engine Runtime:       102.2 hrs (equals 4.2 days, or 613.2 nm @ 6.0 kts BSP, 
                                               or 20% of the total dist,)
Genset Runtime:     19.1 hrs (mostly to run the (1) reefer, (2) autopilot, and
                                            (3) boat electronics powered on for 24 x 7)
                                            (Avg time = 1.4 hrs /day, discounting engine hrs
                                               (when the genset doesn't run), for 14.0 days)
                                            (Est. Avg AH / day = 286 (220 A for 1st hr, 
                                              165 A for 0.4 hr)
Solar Runtime:        Daily when sun present
                                        - (Est Avg AH / day = 120 (est. 8 hrs sun / day x
                                             est avg 15 A /hr = 120 AH)
                                        - (max solar capacity = 410 watts, or 34 A / hr, 
                                             but I de-rate it to be realistic/conservative)
Beers Consumed:    <12    (Not much desire for this while on passage)

We used a lot of DC power on this trip, more than we typically do. I estimate the extra was due to the autopilot driving most of the time and having to work hard in the challenging conditions. Also, I was not too frugal on power usage because I enjoyed the benefits of it and our engine, genset, and solar systems were running well enough that I expected they could handle the load - and they did.

Breakages:
In general, we luckily had few failures. Other boats had problems with autopilots, radars, and torn sails,
1. Mainsail de-lam and tears - We expected some of this because the sail needs replacement, which we've been preparing for. Still, the sail got beat up pretty hard in the jerky swells and gusty squalls.
2. Jib sail chafe - The foot of jib chafed on the forward part of the pulpit; needs restitching. The new jib should be cut higher in order to miss the pulpit altogether.(Follow up - chafe not extensive - repaired)
3. Lots of water leaking into the cabin from around the mast - Not sure why yet - looks well sealed. (Follow up - root cause was due to halyard blocks crushing the deck's balsa core. Water entering through bolt holes. Deck needs solid repair).
4. Cabinet drawer frame broken - This cabinet held a drawer of heavy stuff. In the constant healing, the frame/facing broke and no longer holds the drawer. Needs repair. (Follow up- the facing was originally underbuilt. It has now been reinforced and repaired).
5. VHF remote microphone - This Standard Horizon mic under the dodger lost its display and buttons functionality. Speaker and lights still work. (Follow up - broken wire found in back of connector on panel - repaired).
6. Dinghy lifting ring tore off - (in port) - Looks like a mfg defect due to not enough adhesive. It's a 3-day repair process with 2-part hypalon adhesive, sandpaper, and toluene.

Pics of Trip from La Paz to French Polynesia

Wanna see more pictures???



ALBUM: La Paz to French Polynesia

One of our last sunsets at sea.

Navigating into our anchorage.

Pic - Cinnabar in Taiohea Bay, Nuku Hiva

Cinnabar relaxing at anchor after the 18 days and 3200 nm miles from La Paz, BCS, Mexico

Day - 18 - Land Ho! and Arrival Nuku Hiva, Marquesas

Sylvia monitoring the kite

(TC)

With the wind speeds remaining low throughout the night, 6-8 knots TWS, and our need to keep the daily mileage up (in the 150 nm range) in order to reach the barn the quickest, we motorsailed most of the last night and into the next morning. When the wind finally filled in, we shut down the engine and sailed. Mind you, we worship our Yanmar engine all the benefit it provides, however, the return of the "sailing silence" was blissful.

By late morning, the distance to go was less than 100 nm (72 actually); another exciting milestone reached. After a discussion considering whether to push hard and get to anchorage at dusk or slow down, spend another night at sea, and arrive in the early morning, we elected to "race the sunset" to the finish line. The wind continued to blow from a good angle (broad to beam) and with good pressure (12-17 TWS), so this tempted us to deploy our most powerful sail, the spinnaker. We took the bait and deployed "the kite", knowing it had the highest speed potential of any of our options.

It's a bit of a process to get the giant sail deployed - more lines, blocks, connections, communications, coordination, etc. , but with the need to correct a minor twist in the sail before hoisting, up it went, off the sprit, unsocked, into full-pull mode. The boat took off and sailed reassuringly FAST through the early- and then mid-afternoons.

About the time we were marveling at the power of the kite zipping us along, Sylvia shouted "Land Ho!". And just like magic, there it was - a faint, dark lump of an island to our southern side. "Wow - how about that?!". It's always a euphoric moment to spot an expected landfall after many days or weeks of seeing only the ocean and the sky, and the video-game-appearance of our electronic navigation screens in which we place so much trust. I'm continually impressed with the utility, accuracy, and reliability of the GPS system and technology, both on the satellites side and on the receiver side. Outstanding! We are close!

From its bearing, I knew the spotted island was not our destination island, Nuku Hiva, but one nearby (Ua Huka ). We raced on, with s/v SCOOTS keeping close tabs just a few miles behind us. We had an exhilarating 4 hrs run running under the spinnaker, getting in lots of mini-surfs in the medium-sized following swells. In the distance off the bow, Nuku Hiva started to take form under a pile of clouds as we closed in. It soon became early evening and the wind softened, so we doused the spinnaker and put her in her lair for another long hibernation.

The sun was dropping fast so we motorsailed toward the dark shadowy, looming mass. As we got near it, the jagged island form came into focus - vivid green carpets of jungle, steep hillsides, tall cliffs dropping into the sea, whispy clouds hovering close to the slopes. As dusk turned to darkness (2000 hrs, local), we turned into the Baie Taohaie, and dim lights from onshore and from anchored boats twinkled. We picked up the 2 red flashing range lights which guided our way deep into the bay. We selected our anchoring spot between the 50-odd vessels present while the moon started to shine brightly above the steep ring of peaks that comprise this ancient volcano. It took about another hour to re-assemble our anchor system out from its ocean-passage-storage location and deploy it in 43' of mud/sand.

Anchor down! Finally, we have arrived!

And within an hour, so did our pals on SCOOTS.

What a great feeling of relief and elation.

After a good sleep in the calm and safe clutches of the anchorage, the legendary beauty of this tropical paradise became clear as morning dawned.

Happy Days are Here Again and "Fish On"!

After I got the grim news from Scoots that we were in a gigantic rectangle of squally doom (500 mi x 200 mi) I went off watch at 9:00 p.m. and hit the pillow hard. It was still pouring rain but I had to ignore the drips in order to rest. I got up 6 hours later for the 3:00 a.m. to 6:00 a.m. watch and I was surprised to observe that the rain had stopped and I could see...wait for it...FIVE stars in the sky! It was pleasant outside, a bit damp, the sky was still filled with clouds, but I could see part of the moon peeking out between some clouds which was encouraging. I never bothered to wear my jacket during that watch, just my foulie longjohns with jog bra and I was perfectly comfortable. At 6:00 I went below to start the radio net and Vandy on Scoots had just downloaded updated weather info - the black wall of squall had moved and we were popping out of the bottom. Hooray!! Bruce, just coming on watch, was happy to hear the news. Later, when it was time for Tom's watch he stumbled by and read my 6:00 a.m. log: "Pleasant weather. No rain. Some stars and a moonset. Is this for real?" Better believe it baby, our weather had improved and the sun was out.

A couple of hours later Tom and I raised the mainsail above the 3rd reef to inspect the damaged mainsail. Wonder of wonders, the patches held. They weren't beautiful, and a couple of the corners weren't sticking down (not a surprise as the sail was rather damp), but miraculously the patches seemed to be holding the most important parts together.

We all perked up a bit after some rest and nice weather. The fishing lines went out, a bit of boat clean up was in order, and we enjoyed showers on the back deck. Divine!!

As the day was cooling off (from 95 to 93) I was even planning to have a real dinner again, Mac 'N Cheese and cole slaw. I got the slaw made and was just starting in on heating up the casserole (already prepped and frozen) when I heard yelling from the back of the boat. "Fish on!!!" Well, that got everybody hopping. I was out of the kitchen and Tom was out of his bunk as Bruce was on the stern reeling in his catch. Not a huge fish, but a 4' wahoo which would make at least three meals for us. Hooray!! Out came the gaff and filet gear, out came the camera, the Mac 'N Cheese went back in the freezer, and out came the prepped and frozen Jambalaya. Interesting food chain note, we found a baby blue fin tuna inside Mr. Wahoo's stomach.

By the time the guys had cleaned the fish I was ready to dredge the filets in blackening spice and throw them in the pan. We thoroughly enjoyed our dinner of 2 hr old Wahoo, blackened, on Jambalaya with cole slaw. It was delicious! I even managed to miss my evening radio net for the first time as I was preoccupied with stuffing my face and enjoying the sunset. We splurged and enjoyed some ice cold Negra Modelos with dinner.

Pic - Cinnabar Pacific Puddle Jump Crew

A blog reader pal requested more people pics.
Well, here's the three principals all in one shot and about to devour some delicious fresh-caught wahoo. Nothing like a fresh, beautiful, high quality fish to brighten one's spirits!