Panama to the Galapagos Islands
April 6, Friday - Day 0
Last night installing the new exhaust pipe
and water pump took Alan and me until about 5 pm. Then Alan and Duane changed
the oil, oil filter, and fuel filter, which took some time. Alan was hoping to
take off for the Galapagos Islands as soon as the repairs were completed but by
the time everything was done, he was not in the mood for straightening up the
boat for the passage, and then stopping by the fuel dock to top off water,
diesel, and gasoline tanks.Duane and Steve grilled up some wonderfully tender boneless chicken breasts with some really tasty rice. We all ate like kings and remarkably the garbage disposals left some of the rice for another meal. Alan, Karen and I took advantage of our last night with land shower facilities and went ashore after dinner for one last good cleaning. When we went ashore, we learned from the marina that the fuel dock is open 24 hrs. With the low tide predicted to be about 8am in the morning Alan started talking about a 4 am departure to take advantage of the outgoing tide. The tidal changes here are about 16 feet with the moon nearing a full face, which means the tide is going to be at its strongest. We have about 85 miles to reach the end of the Gulf of Panama so we know at least one high and one low tide will affect us. After the shower and some light reading we all hit the sack between 9 and 10 pm.
I realized that after a restless night of sleep I was both excited and anxious about finally sailing away from the mainland and heading towards the South Pacific with our first stop San Cristobal Island in the Galapagos Islands. Several times I would wake up expecting Alan to call everyone to the deck and perform last minute preparations for an early start. At 6 am Alan finally gave the word and the crew began to stir. So much for a very early start. Alan decided to heck with the tides, let's get some sleep. By 9 am we readied the boat, topped off our tanks, and ate breakfast. But we had one more stop to pick up one last item from Bernie and Tami Stoll's boat, Journey.
Journey is a Crealock 34 and Bernie and Tami have been cruising for the past three years. They are on their way to San Diego, California hopefully to be there in time for the birth of their second grandchild. Alan and Bernie have mutual friends and we have been hanging out with Journey in both Colon and Panama City.
The last item we needed was of all things cooking lard (Crisco), which we were not able to find in Panama City. Tami gave us a great recipe for cooking bread in a pressure cooker and she insists that cooking lard is the only thing that will properly keep the bread from sticking to the pressure cooker. She knows from experimentation when she was not able to find cooking lard herself.
Alan, Duane and Steve had the opportunity to sample the bread a couple of weeks ago while visiting on Journey at Isla Grande. It was at that time that Alan decided Rhum Punch needed a pressure cooker. Well, the hunt was on, but we did not find a good pressure cooker until a couple of days ago. Still the cooking lard part of the recipe eluded us completely. Bernie and Tami were kind enough to give us some of theirs.
On our way over to their mooring at the Balboa Yacht Club we noticed the tide was so low today that a sand bar was exposed near our mooring that we had not seen during the last week. As we snaked our way through the mooring area we ran aground six feet off the stern of another moored boat, Force Eight. Rhum Punch's draft is 5'6". With a little help from one of the yacht club launches we are back on our way again. We all hope that running aground at the beginning of our trip is not a bad omen. We swing by Journey, who has been watching us, and ask them to just toss us the cooking lard as we pass by. Alan does not want to tie up and say any long goodbyes. He is ready to leave Panama and so is the crew.
A few
minutes of motoring to get us out to the shipping channel for the Canal and we
set our sails. It is 10 am, which marks the beginning of each day for us during
the trip. The wind is blowing about 15-18 knots giving us a wonderful run out
the channel and into the Gulf of Panama. We slip by the 20 or more tankers and
container ships at anchor waiting to transit the Canal and we are finally
officially on our way. Even though Karen is at the helm the windvane is doing
most of the steering. When there is wind and today we have plenty, the windvane
will do our steering. Alan announces that our rhumb line (the line directly
from our starting point, which is the yacht club, to our destination, which is
Wreck Bay, San Cristobal Island, Galapagos Islands) of 230 degrees (a
southwesterly direction), is a distance of 846 nautical miles and estimates our
travel time to be about seven days give or take a few days. We will be sailing 84 miles down the Gulf of Panama on a heading of 180 degrees, due south, and then turn right onto our rhumb line until we hit the doldrums. The doldrums are an area near the equator where there is little to no wind and could be anywhere up to about 400 miles wide. After we pass through the doldrums we will hang a right (west) and head for San Cristobal Island.
It is a wonderful feeling to be sailing again. And now to be sailing into the dream that Karen and I made a reality. I feel like we are two of the luckiest people in the world right now. I stand on the bow and watch the shoreline of a few islands in the Gulf and listen to Rhum Punch glide through the water. During this time Duane, who has been trying unsuccessfully to catch fish in Isla Grande, Colon, and Panama City, wastes no time in putting out two trolling lines. Maybe dinner will be fresh fish tonight. Karen is at the helm and having a wonderful time of it. Steve is quietly sitting in the cockpit absorbing everything around him. Alan is running around the boat checking to be sure everything on deck is securely fastened for the passage.
Rhum Punch is carrying a variety of things on her deck that will need to be properly lashed down: 10-gal fresh water jug; large 3-section solar panel; two extra propane tanks; small BBQ grill that is attached to the stern rail; four 6-gal diesel jugs; 5-gal gas jug; dingy; bean bag chair (for the on-duty helmsman); several milk crates holding various odds and ends but mostly many small plastic bottles of fresh water to be used after swimming or washing in saltwater; four large fenders; many extra lines used for things such as docking; gas-powered generator; two wind surfing boards (I cannot wait to learn how to use these); couple of all-purpose plastic buckets that will be used for things such as washing clothes or cleaning fish; and some other odds and ends. With all this stuff on deck Alan wants to be sure nothing will come loose and become a liability to the crew or the boat. He does this with his trademark grin from ear to ear firmly planted on his face. Alan is one happy sailor.
The sail down the Gulf is a little choppy. The winds are steady from the north giving us a run, which had us rolling and pitching from side to side. This will be a fast way to break in our sea legs. Our boat speed is good at seven knots. Crew moral is high now that we are headed for the unusual islands that inspired Charles Darwin to come up with the theory of evolution.
At about 2 pm, I am at the helm and one of Duane's trolling lines
sounds off with a WHEEE… Everyone jumps up and runs to the stern. Alan
tells me to slow the boat speed down by turning into the wind and luffing the
sails. Meanwhile, Alan is reeling in dinner and Steve grabs the gaff hook and
readies himself next to Alan. Seeing the way Steve is holding the gaff hook
Alan asks Steve if he had done this before. "Nope", was the reply. So Duane,
who has gaffed fish in the past, moves in. Steve and Karen & I watch as the
father-son team works in unison. Essentially, the only thing you have to be
careful about when gaffing is trying to avoid the body. The goal is to hook
underneath the gills or into the head so you do not damage the meat. It is
really no big deal.Ah ha, we can see the fish now. Dinner is approaching the boat and it is TUNA of about 15 or so pounds. He is big enough to feed the five of us including two human garbage disposals. While behind the helm and the sails luffing loudly I watch as the fish is gaffed and brought on board. By 2:45 pm Alan has filleted the tuna. Looks like we will be eating grilled tuna fillets tonight.
Then all of the sudden the other line begins that now familiar sound…WHEEE…Duane brings this one in and it is a another tuna about the same size as the first one. The fish is onboard and Duane is about to turn him into tuna steaks when…WHEEE…We got us a hat trick on the first day out! The third one is a smaller tuna. Alan decides to keep this one whole (except for the head, tail and guts) for baking. At this point we quickly bring in the lines for fear of catching more than we can eat. It seems fresh fish will not be a problem for the crew of Rhum Punch for the next couple of days.
As we press on into the evening the wind and waves are still rocking us from side to side, but Alan is able to expertly grill the tuna steaks (we decided to have tuna steaks instead of fillets tonight) on the stern BBQ grill. Alan says BBQ'ing is a right of passage for young men in Australia. I have a feeling we will be benefiting a lot from his Australian tradition of BBQ'ing. Of course, the tuna steaks melt in our mouths. Using a leftover rice concoction from the previous night as a side dish the two human garbage disposals leave dinner feeling fat and happy. The rest of us feel just happy.
The winds and waves begin to pick up and are giving us a wild ride increasing the rocking motion from side to side so much that the windvane is having a hard time keeping a straight course. Since we are still near the shipping channels in the Gulf, Alan decides to switch to manual steering until Neptune begins to cooperate.
While I am at the helm Alan estimates that we will reach Punta Mala (means Bad Point) about 12:30 am. Punta Mala marks the end of the Gulf of Panama and the beginning of the Pacific Ocean. Duane is feeling a little seasick and crawls down below to sleep it off. When he cleaned the fish today he got most of the blood and scales on him. He does not smell very good and this is likely contributing to his queasiness. Karen is wearing the "patch" (for seasickness) as a preventive measure. She still is not very comfortable down below yet. She decides to sleep on the port side of the cockpit tonight. Steve, who is wearing seasickness wristbands and has taken Dramamine, is sleeping on the starboard side of the cockpit. I am standing behind the wheel and feeling high as a kite from the salt air and knowing we are headed for the Pacific. Alan is even higher standing near me.
At one point during the evening Alan, Karen and I saw the most amazing meteorite with a long tail. Pieces were flying off as it streaked across the sky and it was the most brilliant green color. Could this get any better?
The night air begins to bring on a chill. By 11 pm Steve and Alan have worked their way down below, and Karen is still sleeping next to me in the cockpit. I find myself standing my first night watch all alone.
By midnight we are approaching the light on Punta Mata. I knew it is the right one because it is supposed to flash every 10 seconds and this one has been doing just that ever since it came into sight. All day and night we have been running parallel to the shipping lanes about a couple of miles on our port side. The ships will be rounding close to the point too. With the full moon I can easily see the coastline. Even though Alan has been sleeping for only two hours I decide to wake him. At this point I have not taken the time to study the navigation charts and it is Alan's boat, so I need him to take a look at our position to be sure we clear the point. It would be a shame to sink Rhum Punch during my first time alone at the helm.
Alan confirms our position and heading are OK and we keep an eye out for any new developments. Splash! What was that? It's a dolphin. In fact, it's two dolphins playing around the boat. I give the helm to Alan who has seen hundreds of them and run to the bow for a better view. A few more splashes and they are gone. They must have come by to wish us bon voyage and good luck. This our first good sign from Neptune. Today we have eaten fresh tuna steaks; I have seen a brilliant meteor and dolphins playing in the bow wake. This really is turning out just like a vacation brochure.
As we round the point we change our heading to 230 degrees and the ride finally calms down a bit. By 1 AM I was in the v-berth trying to sleep. There is one more thing about the v-berth that never even occurred to us. Our heads rest right at the waterline and it sounds as if the water is running through your head. I am sure (and hope) we will get used to it.
As the night cools Karen finally moved down below but wanted to stay near the middle of the boat where the ride is a little more comfortable. She found the seating area on the starboard side and sleep there for the night. It is lower in the boat and therefore has less rocking motion.
April 7, Saturday - Day 1
In the morning I decided to make use of some of our rapidly ripening bananas and made banana bread using a recipe that my mom emailed to me. While making the bread Karen and Steve are in the cockpit and they see a huge manta ray jump out of the water about a hundred yards off our starboard. Rats! I missed it. They claim it jumped a good distance out of the water. The banana bread was a hit (Way to go Mom!). Duane spread apple butter on it and Steve used honey as his topping. We each had a slice in the later afternoon, the later after dinner for dessert.Despite having two more fresh tunas in the fridge, we decide to grill up some boneless chicken breast. Duane made a fabulous marinade using soy sauce, Worcestershire sauce and some pepper. Karen made some wild rice with chicken flavoring and dinner was a success. I will try not to bore everyone reading this too much about our meals. But you must understand that the meals become the focus of the day when at sea. As the sun fell and the moon shone bright our wind died. We are only 50 miles from the Panamanian coast. Could we be in the doldrums already? If so, we are in for a long, slow ride.
Earlier in
the day we four guys cut our hair down to about ¼ of an inch. You should
see Duane. When Alan cut Duane's hair he left a small 3 in long tuft of hair in
the front. For some reason Duane likes it. He looks like a rooster. With
Rhum Punch sitting in a dead calm this evening the guys decided it is
time for a quick swim to wash out the left over hair from our cuts. Splash!
BURRR!! The Pacific is cold here. As we swim around the phosphorescence reacts
to our movements creating hundreds of little green glowing dots all around each
of us. The water is so clear and the moon is so bright I can see my feet. One
by one we climb back on board to lather up and jump back in again for a rinse.
Once back onboard we conduct a final rinse with some fresh water. Karen took a
bath on deck with her bathing suit on earlier in the day so she decides not to
go for a swim tonight. Ta daa!! We are clean and wide-awake courtesy of the
Pacific Ocean.
About 9
pm we began talking about setting up a watch system. I am referring to the fact
that we need to have someone keeping an eye things at all times since we are
traveling 24 hours a day. This is a duty that is usually shared by all on
board. Alan does not like to rush into a strict regime so he likes to let the
first day or so fall into place. He decides that each watch shift will be two
hours and it will be done in the order of our first names. So the first
rotation looks like this:
- Alan 9-11 pm
- Duane 11-1 am
- Karen 1-3 am
- Pete 3-5 am
- Steve 5-7 am
- And so on…
With the watches sorted out and the seas still at a dead calm, Alan decides to motor. We motor at 2200 RPM (2/3 full throttle) and we are making about 4 kts. This is a good speed for the less amount of fuel consumption.
April 8, Sunday - Day 2
During Duane's watch (11 pm - 1 am this morning) a light breeze begins to fill in…but not enough to stop motoring and begin sailing. During Karen's watch the breeze fills in a little more, but still too light. During my watch we have enough wind finally. We let the jib out and kill the engine. Aahh…peace and quiet again. Also, the engine creates a lot of heat down below where everyone is trying to sleep. We are living without air conditioning and the cabin temperature is in the eighties (Fahrenheit). The rest of my watch is uneventful. In the morning I learn Duane was visited by a couple of dolphin during his watch. Rats! I missed it.In the morning we see a very dark line of clouds with lightning in it chasing us from the north. Besides the little bit of lightning we see this as a good thing. The breeze is strong from the south so we are expecting the front to bring some rain, but very little wind. If it rains hard enough we plan to scrub the decks and mop down below to clean out the salt water. If it rains long enough to wash the salt out of the sails we may even be able to collect some water for our fresh water tanks. Having enough fresh water is always a concern in the back of your mind out here. We have five people on board with only about 120 gallons of fresh water. We have more but it is for the refrigeration system. This means that for a 10 day passage each of us can use about 2.4 gal each day for drinking, bathing, cooking and cleaning. Actually, that's not bad, because you don't take showers every day. Now you do the math for a 30-day passage. Now you can see why we want to get used to using our water efficiently and look for ways to collect more. Fresh water from the islands might cost a lot of money or need to be treated, because it really is not that fresh.
We sit and wait. The line of clouds keeps approaching, but the wind is still strong from the south. Whew, this sucker is really dark and scary looking. Then when it appears the clouds are right above us the south wind finally dies. Next the rain begins. We are ready with our bathing suits on and go to work scrubbing the deck and the bottom of the dingy, which is still dirty from its time in the water in Panama. Bummer…within five minutes the rain is gone. Oh well, at least some of the boat is clean now.
April 9, Monday - Day 3
Yesterday Steve warned everyone that he would be making pancakes on this morning. We remember his pancakes from Panama. I have had mixed feelings about weather I should look forward to this or not. But as this morning rolled around I really started to crave pancakes; even Steve's pancakes. When he woke up he still was not feeling well and decided that he could not make them. Rats! That was a disappointment, but cooking while you are seasick is the last thing you would do. I was too lazy to make them myself so it became another cereal morning for everyone. Steve promised he would make them tomorrow.Duane tends to focus most conversations towards food or computers, which comes as no surprise to anyone. Mostly he tends to focus on when is the next meal. Well, we did have a wonderful tuna sushi lunch today. Alan used a recipe I found in a back issue of Cruising World. Rhum Punch has a couple of year's worth of the magazine. In each monthly publication there is a section called Food & People that usually includes a few recipes contributed by yachties. On board Rhum Punch these magazines along with a small cookbook written for children entitled Lunch: Eat In Take Out make up our recipes. Steve and I have received a few favorite recipes from our mothers via email.
Yesterday I went through all the magazines and noted recipes of interest, which were basically recipes we could most closely duplicate with our existing food stores. I found a few gems that will help to give us variety to our meals. The tuna sushi was called Seared Spicy Tuna and Alan used some of the tuna we caught on Friday. If you like spicy sushi, then this is the meal for you. I cannot wait until we make this meal again. Basically, it calls for every spicy spice we have onboard plus more. We did not have all the spices it required so Alan made a few substitutions. Making substitutions to recipes becomes commonplace onboard Rhum Punch.
Karen does not like to eat sushi as much as the rest of the crew so she ate the rice that was lightly flavored with the spicy flavoring that was left over. She said it tasted very good. Often at home Karen would eat a bag of microwave popcorn for dinner so a bowl of rice means she is probably eating better than she did at home. Duane, stilling feeling a little queasy, complained about the level of "spiciness" and put his portion of the meal in the fridge. I noticed later that it was missing so the human garbage disposal must be starting to feel better.
The past couple of days we have been switching between sailing and motorsailing. Motorsailing means we leave the mainsail up and use the engine. The winds have not been very consistent. Sometime they are so heavy we have to put in the first of three reefs in the mainsail and a few hours later we are motorsailing again. We deduce that we have reached the doldrums. It's not like we passed a sign or anything, but we are sure we are in the doldrums.
Now that we are in the doldrums we have altered our course from southwest (230 degrees) to more south (190 degrees). This way we can cut a more direct and shorter line through the doldrums. Once we reach more consistent winds (or pass a sign stating "You are now leaving the Doldrums") we will head west for the Galapagos Islands.
In the middle of the day Alan figured that with one tuna fillet and one whole small tuna left in the fridge, that our fresh fish stores were getting too low so we began trolling again. Later in the day while Alan has the watch and I am lounging in the cockpit…WHEEE…Since we were motorsailing Alan immediately pulls back on the throttle while at the same time I go running for the rod. This will be my first fish catch on Rhum Punch. I am pretty excited, when all of the sudden the fish leaps out of the water about 75 yards behind us. Now I am beyond excited. It is a huge Mahi Mahi (also known as Dolphin or Dorado) with a bright yellow and blue body.
The rest of the crew is oblivious to the action. I think they were all sleeping down below. Alan and I begin to make so much noise you probably could hear us back in DC. With all our commotion the rest of the crew wakes up and finds their way topside. Now I have a big audience watching me slowly reel in a fighter. The fish makes a few more jumps into the air for show and now everyone is mesmerized by the size. It won't break any world records, but Alan assures me that it clearly breaks any of the Rhum Punch records. It looks to be a little over three feet long.
I spend what seems like an eternity reeling it in. The muscles in my arms begin to ache. I cannot believe the small rod is still in one piece. The rod is about the size of the rod I would use to catching fresh water trout in creeks of West Virginia. Nevertheless the rod holds up.
Duane grabs his video camera; Steve has his waterproof camera; and Karen has our camera. This is going to be the most well documented Mahi Mahi catch ever. Finally, the fish is close to the boat. You can see him in clear Pacific waters swimming in a slow tired looking circle. I feel like the old man in the "Old Man and the Sea". Bringing this one on the boat is my mission. As I continue slowly reeling in the final yards of the line I can hardly believe the bend in the rod. It is shaped like the letter "U".
Alan is still at the helm, but he has been coaching me. "Reel it in slow". "Let him tire himself out". It seems like both the fighter and me are getting "tired out". I wonder who has the advantage now. And finally, "don't let him go under the boat". That last piece of advice really confused me. I wondered briefly "how do I do that?" Oh no…too late. The fighter makes a dash under the boat. Alan is now quiet for the first time since we hooked the fighter as the line snaps and he swims off with Alan's $40 USD lure. The line was probably cut on the prop. It is very quiet on the boat now. I just stand there holding the rod staring down into the deep blue water. I find that for some reason I just cannot leave that position for a few minutes. All I could think of is "boy, that was anti-climatic".
Later, after I have recovered from my trance-like stare into the water Alan mentions how to avoid that problem. The fish is less likely to make a dash like that if I work my way around the boat or stand directly on the stern instead of on the side at the stern. Then he adds, "No problem we have plenty of fishing days ahead of us."
Last night Duane introduced the idea of three-hour watches. We all agree that a two-hour watch is fairly short and besides three hour watches would give us a twelve-hour break between watches instead of eight. I can handle these kind of working hours. I wonder if I can adopt this schedule when I get back to the real world. Alan agrees to the three-hour watch proposal and we begin starting with Alan's watch.
Later into the evening during my last two-hour watch Alan notices a glowing phosphorescence in the bow wake as Rhum Punch punches through the water. And when we look closely we can see phosphorescence trails from little fish running away from the bow wake. It is as if they were sleeping and were startled suddenly from the boat. We watch this action for quite a while. The world is truly a magical place when you take the time to slow down and notice the natural environment around us. To me the ocean holds a little more magic than most other things.
We are probably finally able to notice the phosphorescence trials because the moon has been rising later and later each evening. Without the moon's bright glow we are able to see endless more stars, but I am having a hard time seeing anything in front of us. It seems to be pitch black out. I feel as if I would not be able to see a mountain right in front of me. It is an uneasy feeling for someone who has been sailing during the day on the bay for his sailing career.
April 10, Tuesday - Day 4
Well, tomorrow is here and Steve did not feel well again. We gave him one of our patches and he went back down below. It is my watch now so I cannot make the pancakes. Bummer…It's another morning of false hopes and eating cereal for breakfast. But that's OK. If these are my main concerns in life, then life is still very good.Alan must have been looking forward to the pancakes even more than me, because he grabbed a box of the pancake mix and began to read the instructions. It should not surprise us that since we bought the mix in Panama the instructions are in Spanish. So Alan grabs his very thick Spanish-English dictionary and begins to translate the instructions.
You would think that making pancakes from a box would be very simple. In fact, Duane ridicules his father for even needing to read the instructions. But it turns out that it was Alan's advice to Steve previously to "thoroughly mix the batter". Alan is feeling the pressure to make good pancakes. Despite Steve's last foray with the pancakes the crew has been craving them ever since Steve mentioned it a few days ago. After translating most of the words on the box Alan goes back down below to make what turns out to be very normal and very good pancakes.
Something worth mentioning is that the crew has been making a habit of doctoring up every meal with any type of topping, herbs, or spices that might remotely sound good. This is what happens when you put five inexperienced cooks on one boat. This morning the pancakes got some combination of syrup, strawberry jelly, cinnamon, peanut butter, and/or honey, which as you can imagine most any combo would taste very good. It looks like the pancake debacle is behind us and now we are free to experiment with other meals.
I have been doing real well with using sun block lotion and always wearing a shirt in the sun. Since we started in Columbia, Karen and I have been very vigilant in our sun protection regime. Despite my efforts I have somehow begun to get a tan, while Karen remains as white a Casper the Ghost. On Sunday, I decided to go shirtless for my two-hour late morning shift to help my chest and back catch up with my arms. No damage. Not even pink. Oh well, I put my shirt on for the rest of the day. Yesterday after being lulled into a false sense of sun protected security I ended up going most of the day shirtless. Ouch! Pink on the front and the back. I chastised myself and promised I'd be more careful in the future. Those of you who know me well enough realize that I am not likely to keep this promise.
This morning the 10 am reading, which signifies the end of another day at sea, our instruments indicated that we traveled 102 miles in the last 24 hours. For our four days at sea we have been averaging 110 miles a day. During these past four days we have motorsailed off and on for a total of 24 hours. Alan believes we are doing well given the fact that we are working our way through the doldrums. A couple more days and we believe we should hit the trade winds and then turn west for the Galapagos Islands.
During the hot sun of the past couple of days everyone has really taken notice of the fact that Rhum Punch does not have a bimini or an awning to protect us from the sun. She does have a dodger that is barely enough to keep one person out of the bright sun. As each morning moves into a late afternoon the heat down below becomes sweltering and everyone comes out looking for shade on the deck.
For the past couple of months Alan has had the materials onboard to have an awning made. Each time he finds someone in port to construct it he is told the waiting period will be a month. Since he has not had that kind of time, the result is Rhum Punch is stuck in the doldrums without an awning, but we do have all the materials. So today Alan has started blueprinting the awning and researching the design and best stitching to use. I was surprised to hear that he did not have a sewing machine onboard. I figured anyone who has two laptops, a scanner, and even a toaster would have at least one measly sewing machine. The awning will have to be hand sewn and will probably take a couple of days to make.
In the meantime Alan found a small piece of blue vinyl upholstery put a few brass eyelets in it and now we have a temporary awning. There was much rejoicing among the crew. Now there is almost enough shade for everyone sitting in the cockpit area.
During the day that familiar sound of WHEEE…breaks the hot silence. Again I am the closest (interesting how that keep happening, huh) and therefore the first to the quickly unwinding rod. As I pull it out of the stand I can hear Alan say, "do you want to try it again?" I took that as encouragement to jump back on the horse again rather than a possible sarcastic remark about my floundering fishing abilities.
As I take firm hold of the rod I look out to see if I can eye the fish jumping out of the water. To my disappointment there is no fish fighting his way into the air. And to compound my disappointment as I reel in the first yard of line I feel a strong yank then nothing but slack line. So I announce with the voice of a now very experienced saltwater fisherman - "it threw the hook". Just as well, it turns out the second trolling line was wrapped around my line. I brought the rod over closer to the other one while Alan untangled them. In order to get this mess untangled I had to set the rod down for a few minutes and stood and watched.
After Alan is done I picked up the rod again and began to reel it in to see if the lure was still there. As I reel in the still slack line I notice when it gets closer to the boat that there is something on the end of the line and it is bigger than the lure. I think to myself, "it must be some trash". WHOA! It's a fish…no, no…it's a big fish with a lack of will to fight. As I reel him in next to the boat he dashes under the stern. DAMN IT! Not again. This guy must have been talking to the last one.
Alan was standing next to me so to save myself from the ultimate embarrassment of losing two fish in a row; I hand the rod to Alan and observe to learn. He works the fish and keeps it from cutting the line beneath the boat and I get my first shot at gaffing. A few swings at the fish's head and "success", we have a yellow fin tuna on the boat and in one of our all-purpose buckets. After Duane is done with it we have eight very thick tuna steaks in the fridge waiting for Alan's talent at the BBQ. All I can think about (besides eating the tuna) is "oh boy, what if that sucker had decided to turn and run away from the boat instead of running towards the boat when I put the rod down." I think I will breathe a sigh of relief and call this "lesson learned" (a term I picked up in my other life) - never put the rod down until the lure is out of the water.
April 11, Wednesday - Day 5
For the most part today is uneventful. We are clearly still in the doldrums with little to no wind to speak of. So we motorsailed all day and all night heading mostly west. Steve is feeling better and is getting his appetite back. His favorite snack is peanut butter and honey on bread. He began eating them like he is a bear storing up the winter. Duane, whose appetite has been back for a few days now, eats like he is storing up for winter hibernation too. Duane's favorite snack is anything including devouring the leftovers during his night watch.April 12, Thursday - Day 6
The wind is still light…almost non-existent. I have learned that Alan is always trying to take advantage of the present. About four days ago Alan mentioned to us that when we hit the tradewinds (if we ever do) we would not have many opportunities to swim so we need to take advantage of the doldrums while we can. For several days we have been jumping in for a mid-day snorkeling break. (Try doing that at the office). But for some reason yesterday we missed our snorkeling break. Today, we all jump in and begin to cool off from the hot afternoon sun.Today the water is absolutely amazingly clear. Of course, it is not clear enough to see the bottom, which is about two miles below us. When you look down into the deep aquamarine colored water the sun's rays form a circle of light beams shooting into the depths. Steve and I take turns diving down to check out the water visibility at different depths, but the dives are feeble attempts of about 15-20 feet.
We have not seen any large marine life during our swims, but when I just float at the top and focus on the small marine life around me, I found us in a whole different world teaming with life. I needed the marine biologist equivalent of Woody, the amateur bird watcher we meet in Panama City's rain forest park, to help describe everything to me. Here is my description of just a few of the things floating in the water world around me.
The most abundant things were these little red dots about the size of large pinheads. When I would put my hand slowly in front of them they would dart quickly away from me. As I would play with these guys I would see the occasional other "things". For instance bunches of round red things lumped together like clumps of molecules. These were probably fish eggs looking to be seeded. They were to have no luck with me. Next, clear oval things with two smaller round clear things inside it. Also probably eggs. And a green thing about the shape and size of a half-inch toothpick with a clear casing around it. Alan saw a bunch of other things too, but I cannot remember their descriptions.
Karen spends this time doing a few laps around the boat. Duane and Alan are busy scrubbing some warm water friends off Rhum Punch's bottom. Climbing out of the water is not easy. Rhum Punch has a five-foot free board, which means it is five feet from the waterline to the deck of the boat. Alan has a ladder, but it only goes half way down. So he has a rope ladder that starts below the waterline, but it is not easy to use.
We estimated our water consumption based on our consumption while in the hot, humid and windless anchorage. Since our water consumption has been very disciplined our water reserve is very high. Alan gave permission for each crewmember to use a whole gallon of extra water to do whatever they want with it. The answer is very easy…showers. For the most part we only use water for drinking and cooking. Even when cooking we use some saltwater. We occasionally use the water for washing clothes and freshwater rinses after swimming in the ocean, but even that is limited. Usually clothes are washed in saltwater then rinsed in freshwater. With the extra gallon of water everyone takes showers. Feeling fresh and clean we turn on the "iron genoa" (the engine) once again and move on.
Dinner this evening is yet another tuna dish. So far during this trip we have found many different ways to use tuna. So far we have had the following: Steaks, Fillets, Sushi, Baked, Casserole and Spaghetti with tomato sauce and tuna.
Now we have started to have variations of each of the types above. If I were to list all the tuna meals I would begin to sound like Bubba from Forrest Gump reciting all the different ways to prepare shrimp.
During our nightly ritual of staring at the clear sky Steve notices a bright dot of light racing south to north. He points out that it is a satellite. I had always heard that you could see satellites in the sky, but this is the first time I have seen one. Alan observes that since it is moving from south to north it might be a LEO (Low Earth Orbit) satellite. I suggest that there are HEO (High Earth Orbit) satellites too, but I am not sure which type this one would be. We immediately rule out GEO (Geo-Synchronous Orbit) satellites, since those would appear stationary from Earth.
April 13, Friday - Day 7
As the morning sun begins to shine and the crew of Rhum Punch comes to life, we are all anxious to know what the 10 am log reveals. It has been seven days. How many miles did we knock out in the last 24 hours? More importantly how many miles are left? Alan informs us that yesterday (10 am yesterday to 10 am today) was a 125 miles day. That's better than our average of 106, but we motorsailed the whole 24. We have about 130 to go, which means we should be at anchor in San Cristobal tomorrow afternoon. There is no wind so it looks like we'll be motorsailing the rest of the way. I guess the doldrums are bigger than we thought and they include the Galapagos Islands.
After the 10 am reading our morning became
preoccupied with the approaching equator. The Galapagos Islands straddle it.
The island we are going to, San Cristobal is just below the equator so we will
be crossing the equator today. In the sailing world crossing the equator by
sailing vessel is a major event and is usually marked by various and sometimes
peculiar ceremonies especially for first timers. According to tradition sailors
who have not crossed the equator are known as Pollywogs. Sailors who have
sailed across the equator join an elite group known as Shellbacks. If you talk
to some US Navy sailors you can learn more about the elaborate and sometimes
gruesome things that Pollywogs must do during a crossing to become a Shellback.
Lucky for us Alan is not aware of the US Navy traditions and we enjoy a more
mild celebration that includes champagne, cheese, and crackers.
Since we have left Panama there have been a couple of roach sightings on Rhum Punch. This is particularly disturbing to Alan since he ran into this problem once already while the boat was on the hard in Trinidad last year. At that time Rhum Punch became infested with roaches and Alan declared war on them. The boat was repeatedly bombed and he hired a team of local women to clean the boat from top to bottom. When it was all over and the chemicals cleared he was able to declare victory. But victory came at a price. One of the casualties was his then food supply. Most anything that was not canned needed to be pitched. He lost hundreds of dollars of food. Since we have been on the boat we have seen some skeletal remains from the war. So it is easy to understand why Alan is not happy with our newly found stowaways.
We theorize that the stowaways came aboard while we were tied up at the Panama Canal Yacht Club in Colon. Calling that place a "yacht club" was a stretch at best. It is becoming harder and harder to forget Colon. While tied up there we did see some roaches on the dock so we sprayed our dock lines for preventive measures. The roaches must have found their way on board during the days prior to our preventive measures.
Anyway, the cold hard fact is that after three sightings the war is back on. Alan has been keeping boric acid as his weapon of choice in the event he needed to go to war again. In the Rhum Punch library is a book called Good Boatkeeping. The book has helpful information on a wide variety of issues related to living on a boat. It suggests mixing sugar with boric acid and putting the sweet but deadly mixture in little bottle caps in dark hiding places where the enemy is likely to find them during their reconnaissance missions. Since Karen has been the one who has run across the three offenders she seems to be the most motivated to lead the battle cry.
Karen decides to use aluminum foil to manufacture bottle cap size containers and Steve lends a hand in the design and building phases. The rest of the crew begin joking that the sugar might not be enough to attract the enemy and suggest that they put little McDonalds signs next to them. With that Steve, the soon-to-be engineer, decides to build ramps for easier access. Of course, he adds a big "M" to the top of one of them. Another one now looks like a fortune cookie. The thought process on the Chinese theme was: Have you ever been to a Chinese restaurant that didn't have roaches?
The simple cups that have now turned into theme restaurants with ramps are placed strategically around the boat. Now we just have to sit back and see how many get served and hopefully killed. A new sign under the "M" could read: "10 Served, 10 Killed".
April 14, Saturday - Day 8
At about 9 am this morning Steve popped his head into our berth and softly stated, "Land ho". Karen and I are eager to see our first glimpse of land for the past eight days and work our way to the cockpit. Land had actually been sighted a couple of hours ago so our first glimpse was a clear view of San Cristobal island right in front of us. Land was sighted at about 35 miles out. We are now about 15-20 miles out. San Cristobal is sparsely populated with most of the population on the other side of the island near Wreck Bay, our destination.
Due to the usual lack of wind
we will be motoring around the west side of the island to reach Wreck Bay. We
can clearly see the volcano shape of the island. As we continue to approach the
coast what strikes us the most is the complete lack of any sign of
civilization. After eight days this is a nice way to ease us back into the
world again. Alan likes this kind of approach to land. He likes to think this
is the same way it must have been for the first explorers all those hundreds of
years ago.We move to within a mile of the island and then begin to head west. The coast is rocky volcanic rock with cactus scattered about. Along the way we spot a few sea turtles floating in the clear water. The turtles are about three feet across the back of their shells. As Rhum Punch gets close to the turtles they dart into the depths.
Standing on the bow Steve and I spot a bird diving straight into the water from about 50 feet up. We learn later that this is the Galapagos' very own famous Blue-Footed Boobie. The bird has a long pointed beak. When it dives it hits the water at a very high velocity and resembles the shape of an arrow and the beak spears its victim. Then, sometime while still under water, the Boobie flips the fish into its mouth. So after about 5 seconds under water the bird pops back up and flies up for another look at seconds for his meal. During our visit in the Galapagos Islands we witness this act countless times.
As we are rounding the island Alan grabs his laundry and starts doing his wash on the deck. We all follow his lead so that by the time we arrive in Wreck Bay every inch of our lifelines have wash drying on them. We are a colorful sight as we move in and drop anchor.
In the bay we see some familiar faces and boats from Panama: the Australian couple, Don and Gerra from Sir Swagman (they were with me on Free Spirit in the Panama Canal); and the English couple, Anthony and June, with their two young daughters on Willie Bolton. We recognize a few other boats like Honey Bee, but we have not introduced ourselves to them yet. With our anchor settling down and waving at a few of our friends we have now completed the first leg of our trip at 8 days and 4 hours traveling 922 miles.