The trouble with Seawind Catamarans Tuesday 13 Jul 21

We’re sailing a 2008 Seawind 1160, a boat that a crowd of folks enjoy racing in Australia.  There seem to be a good number of live-aboard sailors as well.  Living on a boat in a marina is one thing; living in remote locations on the hook is a different animal.  If you go hunting for a bear you better be loaded for bear, because a bear will laugh at a popgun. We’ve got extensive provisions and spare parts, we’ve got a 30 gallon per hour water maker, we’ve got extra refrigeration for food (and beer), we’ve got a diesel fired blown air furnace, and we’ve got toys like kite boarding gear, one SCUBA setup, SUP and kayak.  We’ve also got shades and bug screens and the like.  We have 7 20 liter jerry cans with diesel and 2 with gasoline to run the dinghy and the emergency backup Honda 2kw generator.   We’ve got a Parasailor, a second jib, and a screecher sail. All that takes up space, and it adds weight, a lot of it.

Darned Seawind 1160 doesn’t seem to care. Perhaps we forgot what JollyDogs felt or performed like before we kitted her out to go cruising, or perhaps the design is somewhat insensitive to load.  Certainly she sits lower in the water - we raised the anti-foul line 2 inches and given the factory line drawings we reckon we’re at about 10 tons. And here we are, with reef #3 in the main and just a tad of the jib rolled out, sailing in 14 knots of true wind from the West which puts the apparent wind at 11 knots and 120 degrees to port, and we’re doing 4.5 knots.  I had to roll up most of the jib a moment ago when the true wind came up to 16 knots  because we were brushing up against our 6 knot speed limit.

How the hell are we supposed to slow this bad girl down?  Go bare poles?!? We’re sailing with a “blob” (for lack of a better word) for a starboard bow and the autopilot is managing just fine. If the wind picks up a couple of knots I’m either going have to drop the main and then roll out all the jib and see if I can remain under our 6 knot speed limit, or, well, I don’t know what.  

We’ve spent a good bit of time strategizing about how we’ll configure the sails and place the true wind and seas to go easy on the damaged starboard bow with an objective of wind and seas well aft of the beam and a maximum speed of 6 knots with a target speed of 5 knots average. It’s proving to be a bit of a struggle to accomplish this seemingly simple goal.

As my UAV flight test pal Spencer Spiker is fond of saying, “this is a high class problem”.  Most folks complain that their boat is slow and won’t even begin sailing until they’ve got 10 or 15 knots of wind or whatever, and they have to motor all over the place. We can sail quite happily in 6 knots of breeze, and often do.  Diesels are noisy and stinky, and they transform a beautiful sailing experience into a ride on a “transportation appliance”.

Nothing against French people, some of our best friends are French, but I don’t speak French worth a lick, and I’m sure glad I’m dealing with English speaking folks at the other end of the email string or telephone when talking with Seawind. The factory support team has responded quickly to every email query about the bow structure, the hull layup and manufacturing techniques, offered their thoughts about collision bulkhead reinforcement and additional flood control bulkheads, and even answered my questions regarding scuttling the vessel if we had to abandon ship.  Best they can tell the blasted boat won’t even sink. I can’t believe we wasted all that money on a life raft - although if she caught fire we’d be off in a flash.  So to speak.

We’re not even the first owners of this boat, we’re the second. She was built in Australia in 2008; we bought her in 2013. Changed that silly name Lanakai to something more serious (JollyDogs) and she’s been our full time home since 2014. Even still, Seawind treats us like we’re company stock holders with voting shares.

Virtual Cruising Part II Tuesday 6 Jul 21

If we can find ourselves in a deep downwind condition we’ll roll out the twin headsails on barber haulers (don’t even need poles as the boat is wide enough for the two small jibs, both hanked on to a 2-slot single fuller foil) and stow the main sail. With the apparent wind anywhere from astern to up to about 40 degrees either side of the stern the rig moves us along at about 45% of the true wind speed. The seas are then generally on the stern which makes for a nice rising and falling ride unless we also have an adverse swell. Catamarans don’t roll in these conditions fortunately, so it’s a supremely comfortable point of sail, and this rig doesn’t require us going forward or up on the cabin top to mess with reefing lines and such so crew safety is enhanced. If the winds get into the mid 20s or above we can simply furl in part of the twin headsail setup and still be smokin’ along.

Risk is what’s left after we’ve identified and mitigated every hazard we can imagine. My background in experimental flight test involved a lot of risk assessment and mitigation, and this life is no different. A simple injury out here can become life threatening over time, and we’re at least a week from any help ashore so we really try to be careful.

We have some PredictWind preferences and polar inputs that help with the planning routine, and when PredictWind gets it right we generally come in around 10% of the estimate, so not too bad.

For comfort settings we avoid winds of 25 knots on all points of sail.

We also avoid upwind seas greater than 2.5 meters, reaching seas greater than 3 meters, and downwind seas greater than 5 meters.

Our polar inputs for 15 knots of wind and moderate seas are: upwind 50deg 5.5 knots, reaching 90 deg 7.5 knots and downwind 160 deg 7 knots

Something really important on a passage like this is to stop thinking about how long it will take or how many miles will be sailed. Rather, how do we keep moving in a direction that accommodates the weather, keeps us safe and comfortable, minimizes upwind sailing, and hopefully moves us closer to our objective. Lately we’ve been sailing Northwest when our objective is Northeast, but that’s what the wind will allow and given the current forecast it seems that getting as far North as possible as fast as possible to avoid getting trapped in a developing blue zone is a heck of a lot more important than making any Easting towards our arrival objective. Once we finally get established in the Westerly winds we’ll get all that Easting done with a minimum of stress on ourselves and the vessel.

A final consideration is the great Pacific garbage patch, generally centered between Hawaii and San Francisco. There’s a lot of old rope and fishing gear floating on or just below the surface and if we were to find ourselves becalmed in an area populated by that kind of debris, motoring might be quite hazardous as wrapping a prop with a net or line is a really destructive thing. We experienced that once in the Caribbean while working as passage crew on a Swan 82. Wrapped a chunk of synthetic fishing net in the night, stopped the diesel cold. Net melted around the prop shaft and took quite some time to cut away with the best kitchen knife the chef had. That would have been Nicola. She wasn’t happy.

So now you know about as much as we do, and you’re sitting in a comfortable chair in a comfortable house that isn’t pitching and rolling and having the occasional wave break against it so that spray flies over the top of the saloon and salts up the solar panels. It’s perhaps a lot different from playing with a virtual Vendee Globe or whatnot, but this is real life cruising. If you ever thought you’d like to try this someday, above are somethings we’ve learned over the past 7 years.

We’d love to hear back from you - Isabel gets a big kick out of hearing me read emails from friends and family.

Jollydogsrcc@myiridium.net

Cheers!

Mark & Isabel

From the sea

Virtual Cruising Part 1 Tuesday 6 Jul 21

We’ve got some pals who race virtual sailboats.  Here’s a note I sent to them today:

Perhaps it’s fun for you to consider what we’re dealing with out here and what routing you might choose if it were you. We access GRIB files using PredictWind Offshore app, but you can do it for free on the net. Personally I prefer Windy when we’ve got the bandwidth.

Our current numbers:

6 Jul 21 Monday 1135 lcl (UTC-10)

N39deg05’ W160deg13’

COG 326T SOG 5.0 kts

TWind 046@12

Our objective:

The entrance to the Strait of Juan de Fuca. N48deg27’ W124deg42’

Our alternative objective (highest latitude we have insurance coverage, from Lloyds of London, of course): N54deg10’ W133deg30’

Funnily enough most of Alaska is closer than the bloody Puget Sound right now.

Anyway, I’ve just downloaded the latest forecast. We look out 8 days just for notional routing considerations, and figure the first 3 days are probably pretty accurate. When we see the GFS and ECMWF models converge we reckon we can have a high level of confidence in the forecast. When they diverge too much, nobody knows what the hell is going to happen and we might ought to hang onto our asses.

The Pacific High has been ill behaved this season so far with only a few exceptions. When we departed Kauai it appeared things were finally behaving like previous seasons. We believed the high had finally stabilized and wouldn’t continue to get smited by big low pressure systems that generally seem to originate in Asia. By summer the high seems to push them farther North.

What’s been happening this season is that the high has been elongating from NE to SW and that big high pressure region is generally light and variable winds. Our strategy when we launched from Kauai was to cope with this by remaining West of that big blue hole until North of it then turn East Northeast and proceed on up around the Easternmost center of the high, possibly even North of our intended destination, then on down to the target we’d go.

What’s really important to consider is that we’re sailing our home and we’re out here for weeks and thousands of miles, so avoiding abuse to ourselves and the vessel is a lot more important than seeing how fast we can get there or sailing the shortest distance. We don’t point particularly well, usually when beating in light seas we’ll sail to 45 degrees apparent, if it’s rough we’ll set the autopilot to 50 degrees apparent. With wind in the upper teens and full sails out we’ll make around 10 degrees leeway, but with a single reef in we’ll reduce that to maybe 2 degrees with a very small loss in speed over ground. In lumpy conditions a reef also makes the ride more comfortable.

There are just 2 of us so effective crew rest is critical. We each try to get 6 hours of sleep in the night, with Isabel crashing after an early supper. I stand watch until 0100 when she takes up the duty until I naturally awaken in the morning. We have a cup of coffee together, maybe a little fruit cake, then she’s off for a 2 hour nap before re-emerging and then we have an early lunch around 1100. That’s our routine day in and day out, and once we get in the rhythm we feel pretty well rested. In rough conditions we don’t rest as effectively, so beating to windward for days on end takes a toll on our mental acuity, emotional attitudes, and even occasionally physical heath, especially if we get knocked around and bruised.

You can see from where we are there’s a big blue zone we’ll be maneuvering across then as we consider turning to the East another zone appears to open up, so our biggest consideration is to find a way to continue sailing until we’re North of that second blue zone. Right now we figure we might have to sail as high as 45 deg North before we can confidently commit to an Easterly course, adjusting farther North as necessary, but trying to avoid winds in the 20s and bands of rain.

(to be continued)

How far is it again?!? Monday 5 Jul 21

We can’t complain, we had seven lovely days of sailing and fishing.  The freezer is full of passage meals and freshly caught fish. We’ve only burned about 3 hours of diesel so we’ve got about 7 days of reserves. That’s about 1000 miles we can motor if we must. The weather has been spectacular, sunny and warm. Seven days of blissful sailing, albeit slow at times, but lovely calm seas and totally relaxing.

 That all changed overnight, and today we’ve been beating close hauled into winds from high single digits to about 22 knots.  The seas have been building, wind waves mostly, so it’s gotten lumpy, and there’s a mystery swell running from the Northeast that occasionally hammers us with spray going over the cabin top. Not terribly relaxing, certainly not blissful, and a bit rough to manage a fish so no lines out today

The latest weather forecast shows all kinds of blue holes developing during the coming days, and the only way to avoid all that becalming lack of wind is to press on North as hard and fast as we can.  Looks like we might need to get as high as 45 degrees latitude before we’ll be able to stay above it all and enjoy a nice Westerly or Southwesterly breeze. The Pacific high just has never really stabilized this season, so it’s like playing whack-a-mole in reverse, dodging the blue holes to stay in the wind.

I’ve spent some time troubleshooting the port engine fuel system today, replacing fuel filters and looking for contamination.  All good, and the system is now primed, but it might be the lift pump is beginning to fail.  Once the engine is started it’ll run, but it seems to lose prime occasionally and I can’t find a vacuum leak. Fortunately our pal Spike the brilliant boat technician and small aircraft designer is happy to offer advice, so soon enough I’ll know what’s not wrong.  There may be some Yanmar parts in our near future, but for now we’ll make do.

What’s really odd is because of the shape of the Earth we’re closer to lots of Alaska than we are to the Strait of Juan de Fuca which leads in to the Puget Sound and Seattle, Washington. From our position it’s only 1212 nautical miles to Kodiak, 1544 to Glacier Bay, and 1632 to the entrance to the Strait.  Given that we’re going to have to sail North a lot farther to get around a big blue hole before we can really turn to the East, Alaska might start looking pretty darn inviting.  We’re only insured up to Ketchikan, but that might be remedied with a phone call and some $$$.  In truth we’re content with our plan to enjoy the Puget Sound this season then aim for Alaska for a full season next year, but still, it’s tempting.  At the end of the day the sailing weather could decide for us. All that blah blah blah aside, if we can just get into the Westerlies above the blue holes it should be a good sail all the way to Port Angeles.  I guess we’ll see what happens.

A good day to die Sunday 4 Jul 21

We’ve had another spectacular day of gentle sailing.  Sunny, steady light breeze, clipping along at 4 - 5 knots, flat seas, warm air and water.  Pretty sure it doesn’t get better than that, unless you’re in a hurry and want to go faster, which comes with other enhancements.

A few hours ago, Isabel hit the rack and left me to drive around in the dark.  All well, then suddenly the wind went from 8 knots to 6 knots, then up to 15 knots. It wasn’t long before the wind waves began to build and we were crashing along close hauled.  It’s good Isabel decided to sleep in the aft cabin tonight, as the forward master bunk is a little “bouncy” right now. In any kind of rough seaway our aft 3/4 berth is the rack of choice.  

The wind is all over the place, so when it appeared we were actually going almost due West instead of towards the North, I tacked and within minutes we were headed Southeast.  Tacked back and forth several times until finally throwing up my hands in despair and gave up fighting Mother Nature. Never gonna win that one.

My fourth of July fireworks consisted of being awakened at 0700 by the AIS alarm.  Turned out a large freighter was crossing our bow about 1.5 miles away, and the proximity values I’d previously programmed into the AIS for offshore environs set a warning alarm at 2 miles. That alarm would wake the dead.

Somehow our fishing turned into catching today, and we landed three nice mahi mahi.  There were two females and a male, and that guy gave me a fight. We fish with hand lines attached with a bungee for shock absorption, and our method for dealing with them is to pull the line in slowly until I can gaff the fish, alternatively if the hook is really well set drag the bugger up onto the lower step and grab it by the tail.  Next, into the Homer bucket the fish goes head first while I hang on to the tail. Kind of reminds me of WWF “wrastlin’”. Isabel then hands me “the knife” and I proceed to slice the fish’s gills to bleed it out as rapidly as possible. Isabel dumps a bit of water in the bucket to keep the blood flowing and then it gets interesting.

Mahi mahi are tough fish, and they seem to do fine with most of their blood outside their bodies.  Once the fish is bleeding I continue to hang on, watching the fish’s eyes, waiting for it to begin.  The fish will flop back and forth but as the end nears the frequency of motion increases dramatically until it’s almost a high frequency vibration. Whether it’s a nervous system response or something more I’ll never know. I look the fish in the eye and tell it we’ll honor it by not wasting its life - the flesh will sustain us. 

Might sound a little woo woo, but I’ve trended that way the past few days, huh?

Bet your ass we had mahi mahi in our Thai curry for supper tonight, and we were grateful for it.

What give you joy? Saturday 3 Jul 21

We’ve been at sea for six days now. No news, not even the Reuters text edition.  Haven’t bothered to download it.  We do have some podcasts we listen to which are generally discussions about topics we’re really interested in. TED Talks are kind of neat. We have a Spotify subscription so that we can download music on a monthly basis - kind of important when there’s no way to stream music out here. Recently a bartender helped me discover Suvaemente, and I’ve been listening to the playlist today while watching the world go by.

We’ve been fortunate with the weather so far, especially the gentle, generally flat seas.  Ten to thirteen knots makes for great sailing and the wind waves aren’t a bother.  This passage we’ve had no adverse swell either, and the Southeast swell we’ve noticed today makes for a pleasurable up and down motion as we wander Northwards.

The mahi mahi have almost been jumping into the boat the past couple of days, so we’ve got something like 13 vacuum sealed mahi mahi meals now in the freezer.  If that keeps up we’ll have to be careful about how much salmon we catch this summer.

We’re on the Western edge of the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, which is a Thing.  We’ve both seen plastic debris in the water, including bottles, fishing floats, some rather heavy sections of rope and net, and other unidentifiable objects.  Ronnie Simpson warned us about motoring in this area due to the risk of wrapping a section of rope around a prop and trashing a propulsion system. He learned that lesson the hard way.

It’s troubling to see the plastic in the water, but plastic debris, especially fishing debris, is something we got used to seeing on the windward side of the atolls in the Tuamotus of French Polynesia.  It wasn’t unusual to walk down a stretch of reef and count thousands of objects of all descriptions just in the space of a mile or so. Shoes of all kinds, toothbrushes, light bulbs, fishing floats and nets, barrels, sunglasses, shiny mylar party balloons, just all kinds of insane stuff.  

We’ve been out here long enough to realize that the human race is trashing the place.  Maybe I’ll write a song, or a poem.

Still, it’s amazing to survey the horizon 360 degrees and see nothing but beautiful blue water, blue skies with little puffy clouds, amazing sunrises and sunsets. All those distractions inherent to a consumer driven economy are missing. FaceBook isn’t trying to see how long it can keep us engaged. There’s no idiotic political news full of talking heads and pundits who love the sound of their own voices and do their best to shout each other down. There’s just the sound of the sea, the boat wake,  the rig creaking occasionally or the sails luffing in a wind shift. Oh yeah, also Chevy the autopilot which has a hydraulic actuator that makes a little noise, but that’s a noise we have learned to love because Chevy leaves us free to deal with everything else, including seeking peace and relaxation.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen Isabel looking as serene as she did today.  Could be I’ve never felt more chilled out myself.  We don’t feel absolute joy everyday, but when we do, we recognize how fortunate we are.  We found one another.  We made decisions many years ago that enabled us to be where we are today. Life is good.

I made peanut butter cookie dough today, and it’s in the fridge.  Tomorrow we’ll be eating hot cookies with our coffee.  Might not even put the fishing lines in the water until afterwards. Who wants to be interrupted in the middle of coffee and fresh hot cookies?

I wonder how much fun we can have.

Thoughts about mentoring Friday 2 Jun 21

Perhaps it’s because of my pilot background - not a professional pilot, but did work for pay as a commercial pilot flying skydivers, towing gliders, and giving glider rides, all for pay.  Weekend thing while the job in flight test paid the bills. New types of aircraft required some amount of training and demonstration of competency. The Federal Aviation Administration also required reviews of regulations and procedures as well as a competency flight evaluation every 2 years. Learning to fly, then experiencing the differences in the handling and performance of a variety of small airplanes, gliders and helicopters helped me appreciate the experience and tutoring of the flight instructor assigned to help me gain proficiency then evaluate my performance before turning me loose.  Taught me humility and kept me alive.

Anyway, before we launched on this trip from Hawaii to the Pacific Northwest we studied Jimmy Cornell’s tome on cruising routes, then we found sailors with a lot of experience doing this.  The Pacific high seems to have a lot of trouble behaving itself for this time of year, and a discussion with Jamie Gifford of SV Totem (you can look him up) revealed we should just be patient and let things settle down, allow the high to finally become well established, then blast off.

 We were also fortunate enough to have a dock neighbor at the Hawaii Yacht Club who has done this route around 17 times.  Ronnie Simpson works as a delivery skipper moving TransPac race boats from Hawaii back to the continental USA, and he had some simple words of advice for us as well.  “Sail North. Don’t be tempted to turn East and cross the high.  Get around it. Avoid the Great Eastern Pacific Garbage Patch, you can foul a prop on an old plastic fishing net or length of line.  Get North of the high until the winds allow a turn to the East, hopefully sailing in good conditions nearly the entire trip. You should look Ronnie up.  He’s an Iraq war vet, badly injured, made a strong comeback, and has an amazing life story.

Jamie and Ronnie have earned our respect because of their sound wisdom based upon experience, and honestly because they’re both just great guys.  We did our best to follow Jamie’s advice but the Pacific high may have fooled us - just look at the Windy or PredictWind forecast over the next few days.  We’re doing our best to follow Ronnie’s advice and so far it’s paying off.  We’ve been blasting along on a generally due North course with the objective of getting up to about 40 degrees North latitude before turning Northeast then arcing around the big blue hole at the center of the “now elongated” high pressure system.  North of that system is a big icky low that could get pretty ugly for folks aiming for Alaska, but if we can just ride the South side of it in the 15 - 20 knots of Westerlies AND remain South of the big band of rain closer to the center of the low pressure system we could have an awesome passage.

Fingers crossed we get past the blue hole before it migrates too far to the West, cuz if we don’t we’ll be doing a kabuki dance to worm our way North in light winds.  We’ve discussed just tooling along slowly until that low arrives and lifts us to the East, and in a couple of days we’ll have a better idea of how it’s all going to play out.

Jamie, Ronnie, Jimmy Cornell and a host of other sailors learned their lessons the hard way.  There’s no reason we need to reinvent the wheel or put ourselves in harm’s way just because we thought we knew better.  Mentors are important but need to be picked with great care.  We’re thinking we’ve done our best to absorb the wisdom of others - now let’s see if we can apply the lessons and implement a sound strategy to get this horse to the barn.

Are we there Yeti? Thursday 1 Jul 21

Can’t complain about this passage so far. No energy laden squalls, almost flat seas, winds in the 8-15 range mostly and on the starboard beam.  We can’t seem to get any respect from the fish, but they do know we’re out here.  Probably blowing bubbles they’re laughing so hard.

Anyway, a few days ago I went down to the Westmarine in Honolulu with our new bestie Kurt from SV Hullabaloo.  We spent a day sorting out his air conditioner which was overheating due to low cooling water flow.  Turned out to be a variety of flow restriction problems on the inlet side all the way up to the aircon unit itself.  His wife Meg helped him finish up the job the next day - now they’re both tuned up on that system.  Before you know it they’ll know how to fix everything on their new boat, then they can go cruising with the confidence they can handle system failures.  Very important.  Learn to properly maintain, troubleshoot, diagnose and repair everything on the boat.  You’ll sleep better, keep more money in your pocket, and be able to help others in distress.

While we were in Westmarine I collected the fresh new Navionics database for the entire USA and Canada that Kurt had helped me order. Strolling up to the cash register I spied the display of Yeti cups and mugs, and decided to make an impulse purchase.  The Motley Fool got me interested in Yeti stock a while back but Isabel and I rarely spend on something as trick and name brandy as a Yeti thing, but there I was at the cash register with two ten ounce mugs with sippy cup lids thinking I’d surprise Isabel with a gift.  Oh yeah, and one for me too. Kurt grabbed them, declaring he could get a bigger discount and next thing you know he’s paid for them and won’t let me reimburse him.  Some people. . .

Anyway, a word about engineering excellence.  I’ve always thought Yeti accessories were ridiculously expensive - their coolers cost their weight in gold, and the ten ounce sippy cup mugs retailed about $18 each.  Isabel was a little stunned and perhaps even impressed when I got back to JollyDogs with them, and she immediately decided the light green one was hers.  We’ve been using them for a couple of weeks now, and are happy to report that they were worth the expense.  We’ll get even with you Kurt, and it might involve a bit too much Sailor Jerry’s Rum.  Anyway, with the sippy cup lid on a cup of coffee stays plenty hot but it also cools at an ideal rate for morning coffee consumption.  Sipping and enjoying, not swilling like I’m used to, or drinking lukewarm coffee like Isabel has done for years.  I’m all for savoring my hot beverage, but it doesn’t taste as good when tepid.  Anyway, I’m firmly convinced that the brilliant thermodynamicist hot beverage engineers at Yeti have designed the ideal coffee sipping device, allowing me to savor my warming hot potable at my leisure, and not feeling rushed to guzzle it before it becomes tepid.  The second cup of coffee comes with a chunk of Isabel’s wonderful fruit cake which is a killer passage treat - only time she makes it.  Thank you Behan Gifford of SV Totem for that killer recipe and cooking lesson.

And another thing.  Idahoan brand instant mashed potatoes are the absolute bomb. Those crap instant mash taters we had to purchase in French Polynesia can’t hold a candle to Idahoans, and they come in a package perfect for two folks AND in a variety of tasty flavors.

So there you are.  Get yourself a Yeti cup and some Idahoan instant mashed taters and learn to take care of everything on your boat.  If you’re lucky maybe Behan will teach you about making fruit cake.  Just remember to buy lots of Sailor Jerry rum!  You’ll be a better cruiser for it.

Mushing Along Wednesday 30 Jun 21

Last night my watch was pretty interesting.  Before retiring for some well deserved rest, Isabel helped me stow the screecher and trim the jib and main.  We’d had some very light squally conditions during the day but there were still threatening cells on the horizon, and it’s a lot easier to secure the screecher with two bodies than just me.

Isabel crashed around 1900 in the aft bunk which happens to be just above the starboard engine.  Around 1945 a squall with light rain arrived, bringing the apparent wind up towards 20 knots for a few minutes, so with full main and jib we were bopping along at 8 - 9 knots for a while before the wind event passed.  By 2010 the wind was basically GONE so rather than bob around aimlessly I elected to fire up a diesel and make tracks, expecting the wind to return within 1 - 2 hours after clearing the storm system area.  I stowed the jib and hardened the main sheet first to reduce sail flogging.  Because it’s a few hours running time behind the port engine I began to fire up the starboard engine, then remembered that it would make a lot of noise and vibration below Isabel’s sleeping bod, and would heat up that aft cabin a bit. 

Ever thoughtful husband that I am (hah), I instead elected to fire up the port engine, however it refused to come to life.  It turned over just fine at first then the slightly tired engine start battery just couldn’t turn it very quickly. In any case it refused to start, so I had to hand prime the fuel pump (there’s a little lever on it) about 50 strokes.  As well, I enabled the bus tie so the monstrously powerful and fully charged house battery bank could spin the engine over, and boy it started in a flash. First into reverse to get the magic Gori prop in overdrive mode, then forward and up to our standard 2400 rpm cruise power setting.

I’ve been chasing some sort of vacuum leak on that engine for a while, and thought I’d fixed it more than once but occasionally the engine just needs priming.  Guess I’ll ping my close friend Spike Webb who’s a diesel genius to get some guidance on troubleshooting.  Anyway, once started the engine performed flawlessly as usual and within about 40 minutes the wind was back and I had rolled out the jib and trimmed the sails, and we were off and running.  I reckon that was a good use of diesel.

Today we’ve had a couple of threatening squalls and the wind has generally been light.  When we’re not wondering if we’re about to be smited, we roll out the screecher and add a couple knots of groundspeed.  With today’s threat environment the screecher got deployed and stowed several times, but now we’re done with supper and the sky has cleared and the air is much drier.  The wind is still light but as it looks like one of those benign nights Mr. Screecher is going to help us lay on some miles.  We’re racing to beat a high pressure system’s Western movement and while we’ll likely fail at that it’s at least a goal.  A secondary goal is to at least catch up and pass all the other boats in our general area.  We’ve got a tracking group setup on our PredictWind Offshore app and we’re monitoring the position and velocity vector of three other vessels, and we’ve got a fourth vessel we’re exchanging occasional data with over the Iridium Go texting app.  Gives us something to do.

A small female mahi mahi tried to become a resident of our fridge about an hour ago but she came off the hook before we could get the gaff in her.  Just as well, she wasn’t more than 2 - 3 meals and we’d rather she make a bunch of babies we can eat later.  Maybe we can catch her larger bull boyfriend and she can go shopping for a new sweetie.

We’re 333 miles and 55 hours into our passage, with an average speed of 6.1 knots.  About 10% of the way there. The wind won’t let us point in the direction we’d like, but we’re keeping the boat moving North.  We’ll make landfall SOMEWHERE in July. . .

Video Games Our Way Tuesday 29 Jun 21

We’ve been underway 24 hours.  So far a lovely sail, and even with the wander down the Napali coast we’ve made a lot of Northing.  Looks like our average speed for the first 24 hour block from when we turned North will be in the neighborhood of 6.4 knots.  Not bad for mostly light conditions.

For weeks now we’ve been waiting for the Pacific High to show a little muscle and stop being bullied by the monstrous low pressure system gales that thunder across the Pacific.  They seem to originate around Japan or the Philippines.  What the heck have those guys got against us?  Was it something we said?

 Anyway, we, along with several other boats, finally decided conditions were looking pretty good.  Either that or we just got impatient, and certainly there was a little of that.  In any case we’re kind of “committed” now and so far it’s working out pretty well. We’re looking at the PredictWind ECMWF and GFS forecast weather products out about 6-7 days, even though we pretty much consider everything past 3 days to be fantasy and science fiction, and we’re aiming our boat along a route to optimize our sailing experience as things evolve.  This pretty much involves using OpenCPN to plot our position and the forecast positions of significant highs and lows then considering how many miles we can travel in a 24 hour period, then deciding on a direction to aim until the next forecast update.

Regardless of the direction we’d like to aim, it’s critical to keep the boat moving at good speed with the knowledge we can either harden up or crack off on the wind as things evolve.  Fortunately for us we want to go North as fast as possible, and the wind and sea conditions are encouraging that objective.  We’re also paying attention to bands of rain and wind intensity as we’d really like to stay in the dry and also enjoy 10 - 13 knots of wind when possible.  That lower wind level ensures less choppy wind waves making for a much more comfortable ride, but ALSO allowing a wider selection of sail plans.  

Today we’re been in anything from 7 to 11 knots true wind on the starboard beam, and after the last weather forecast that offered more of the same, we stowed the jib and rolled out the screecher.  That bought us around 1.5 - 2 knots and now we’re blasting along at around 7 - 8 knots with 9 - 10 knots true wind.  We’re “screechin’”, babeeee.

We love our screecher and hope the patches we applied while acting irresponsible at the Hawaii Yacht Club will hold long enough to make this passage.  It’s so much more fun to go fast when the seas are flat and the winds are light.  It’s also fun, and I know I’ve been harping on this for a long time, to go like stink in our little 38’ Seawind 1160.  We’re heavily loaded with all the cruising kit and toys and months of provisions and full fuel tanks plus another 140 liters.  We raised the waterline 2” when we hauled out in 2015, and we’re currently floating at the original anti-fouling paint line plus maybe a bit more, leaving around 1 - 1.5” of anti-foul paint revealed.  We’re at least 10 tons according to Seawind drawings.  Still, this little cat hauls ass in light air conditions, and don’t kid yourself, there are a lot of days with winds in the 6 - 10 knot range.  Diesels are noisy.  Sails are lovely.

Isabel and I were chatting about boat marketing this morning and it seems that the World ARC with the Atlantic crossing is where a lot of cruising boats get compared.  Her point was that typically the wind is pretty robust for that route, and the big heavy Lagoons and FP’s perform quite favorably to the Outremers and other high performance cats.  It’s important to note that often the high performance cats are very heavily loaded for that particular passage, and that has a lot of impact on their comparative performance versus the “condomaran” competition.

Seawind has found a great middle ground with their range of cats. Comfort, safety, and great light air performance even while heavy!

Onward and Northward Monday 28 Jun 21

Well, Hanalei Bay on the North side of Kauai is somewhere we could just live. Of course we’d have to take up surfing, and we might need to find a few million bucks to purchase a dwelling, but wow, what a beautiful place.  Friendly folks, great groceries, beautiful sandy beach, sandy surf breaks rather than coral reefs to eat your lunch - what’s not to like?

We ended up with a bit of a Northerly swell for several days and some of the surf breaks that normally only work in the Winter time were working well.  There must have been hundreds of surfers out and about. Tourists were everywhere, the bars and restaurants were packed.  There were around 30 boats in the bay when we arrived, but in the last 3 days boats have been blasting off for Alaska or the Puget Sound or wherever.  We’ve all been looking at the weather patterns and waiting for the Pacific high pressure system to get well established and stabilized.  It looks as if things are finally settling down and that is pretty much the consensus of other sailors as is evidenced by the migration North.

We’re expecting a lot of light winds on this passage, as well as a fair amount of downwind sailing.  While at the Hawaii Yacht Club we did our best to patch up our tired performance laminate screecher - a wonderful sail for lighter airs on a beam reach. It turns out when the fabric begins to delaminate it’s a sign the sail is done, but with luck we’ll get a few days out of it before it becomes confetti. We made numerous repairs to the dinghy and other bits and pieces, and when we left we felt we were ready for the expected 3000 mile journey.

We rigged our dual headsail setup a couple days ago, so today when we departed the bay we turned deep downwind to enjoy the spectacular Napali coast and we rolled out the twin headsails, separated them with the barber haulers and voila, downwind we went at about 45% of the true wind speed.  English folks call it a twizzle rig, some call it a simbo rig; regardless it’s a great way to go downwind - effortless, easy to manage, and allows us to maintain a heading to a destination rather than jibe back and forth.  Catamarans don’t do wing and wing with the main and jib - at least ours doesn’t.

Once we were satisfied we had the twin headsail rig sorted we turned into the wind and raised the main with a single reef, and then were off to the races at 8.5 knots in an 18 knot breeze. After a couple hours the wind tapered off and we shook out the reef and now are tooling along nicely at about 7 knots with 13 knots of wind a bit forward of the beam. It’s a clear night and there stars should be spectacular.  Isabel prepared a killer chicken curry for dinner and now she’s crashed, so I’m on until around 0100 ships time.

Isabel baked 3 fruitcakes for healthful snacking, and she’s convinced that if we have to abandon ship to the life raft we could live for weeks on fruitcake.  Sounds good to me.

Fingers crossed for an uneventful passage - somewhere around 21 days.  We’ll end up in Ketchikan or Port Townsend or somewhere . . .

Overnight passage to Kauai 21 Jun 21

Well, it’s the longest day of the year, so might as well go sailing. Guess that means it’s about the shortest night too. We hoisted the anchor at the sand bar and got underway around 1220 today and now we’re well out in the channel. We deployed fishing lines but today they weren’t catching lines, and I brought them in after sunset.  The Kauai channel isn’t a busy place and only a single catamaran ship about 190’ long has passed nearby. The moon is around 87% and waxing, setting around 0330. Isabel made a lovely dinner then crashed, and I’m catching up on our record of where we’ve been and what we’ve been up to.

As usual, the destinations have been really great, whether because of interesting history, spectacular terrain or observable wildlife. We love snorkeling with turtles, whales, sharks, dolphins, tropical fish - all those creatures are very special to us. Turtles have been the highlight here in Hawaii, and we have a Wyland half sheet water color painting of a turtle that I purchased many years ago after encountering a turtle while snorkeling here. I likes me a turtle.

What really makes cruising memorable are the people we meet. Folks from all walks of life, all kinds of background and personal stories. Folks that help one another, share knowledge and resources, and are absolutely genuine. Hawaii has been good to us.

Tomorrow we’ll drop the hook in Hanalei Bay and dinghy around the bay, saying hi to several boats we know there.  We’ll deliver the fruit cake Isabel baked for Michael, and if we can find a bit of rum to soak the fruit in she might even make another one for us. It might be a long passage.

We’ll spend a few days exploring ashore and snorkeling with turtles, all the while looking carefully at the weather forecast and discussing passage strategy with other cruisers. There are several boats waiting to launch out for either Alaska or the Puget Sound. Just today we read fresh news that Canada will not be opening up to American tourists anytime soon, so our own hopes to sail as far North as Ketchikan then wander down the inside passage have faded.  We’re content to sail for the Straights of Juan de Fuca and enjoy a season in the Puget Sound this year, then hopefully get going early to Canada next April and have a good season in Alaska.

We’ve been fortunate to secure a slip at Shilshole Marina by Ballard, a great Seattle neighborhood and home to the Ballard Locks, where folks come from all over to watch the boats move between the sea and the inland freshwater lakes. Winter in Seattle isn’t on our radar, but we’ll at least have somewhere to be if it comes to that.  We’ll be looking to haul out sometime in October as our bottom paint is really done (if we can make it last that long). 

We’ve got a challenging passage ahead of us - probably the most difficult we’ll have undertaken so far, so we’ll be putting a lot of thought into routing, weather exploitation and avoidance, and how we’ll get across the North end of the Pacific High if it stretches too far North,  The center of the high is home to the Pacific garbage patch and motoring through that mess isn’t wise - it’s good odds of damaging the propulsion system, so we’ll do our best to sail up the West side of the high and around the North side on top, but in the next week or so that could be almost as far North as Ketchikan so we’ll be keeping a close eye on that. It does look like the gales that have been thundering across the Pacific are pretty much being pushed up towards the Aleutian Island chain where our pal Tripp on SV J. Henry departed for just today. Tripp’s tough and seeking adventure. We’re soft and seeking fun.

It takes all kinds.

Hotel California 19 Jun 21

That’s what folks call the Hawaii Yacht Club - you (think) you can check out but you can never leave.  The place really sucks you in - great location, fun people, great bar and restaurant, and walking distance to the Harbor Pub where one can eat a respectable breakfast or pizza for a decent price. The boardwalk to Waikiki Beach is a great people watching and exercise opportunity, and the very interesting Fort Derussy Army museum is along the way. Between the Ala Moana shopping mall and the identical shops less than two miles away at Waikiki, one can part with all their bread buying high end handbags, Teslas or fancy watches. Shopper’s heaven, but for us just jaw dropping “stuff”.

Our Canadian pals on SV Maple had been sailing from Tahiti to Dutch Harbor, Alaska but having had electrical and steering system failures decided to divert to Oahu just a few days before we had intended to depart. We elected to remain in place and do our best to assist in getting them sorted out with US Customs and Border Protection as well as try and find them a slip. Poor buggers were beating into rough seas and winds, but they finally motored in about 4 days before we departed. They had managed to get a slip at Waikiki Yacht club just across the way, and we dinghy’d across the harbor to bring them a cold beer and welcome them to the USA. Over the next few days we enjoyed dinner with them at the Waikiki Yacht club - killer fish ’n chips - and had them over to spectate the Friday afternoon beer can races. We even took Janet to Costco for a big provisioning run while Darryl and the girls worked on the boat. We had hung out with them off and on for 2 years in French Polynesia - really fun and interesting folks.

Finally on Saturday the 19th we were ready to bolt from the stable. Ronnie woke up early to help out by moving his boat, and soon we were on our way out of the harbor. At 0630 the surf break was hopping with surfers looking to catch a good wave on the East side of the channel, and as we eased on out into the bay and turned to the East, we found decent sailing conditions for the trip to the Eastern headland then up to the North to Kane’ohe Bay. We did have to beat for several hours but the seas were OK and the wind was only in the low teens so it made for a great sailing day. We arrived at the Sampan Channel by early afternoon and made our way over the bar and into the bay, turning to port and maneuvering around to the West side of Coconut Island. The opening shots for Gilligan’s Island were shot there back in the 60’s but it appears some development “might” have taken place since then. We anchored in 40’ of water in a clay/mud bottom with good holding and celebrated our escape from the marina with a hammock ride.

The past 2 nights have been blissful and quiet; after the herky jerky motion of 3 boats snatching each other around with tide and swell conditions sleeping in a flat bay with good wind protection and absolutely no noise was a wonderful experience. We launched the dingy on Saturday and toured the shoreline, poking our nose into every marina and yacht club we found, then finally tooling up to the sand bar where folks anchor for the day and party it up. It’s a remarkable spot, and so today we upped anchor at Coconut Island and motored up there to drop the hook in 6’ of water and try not to accidentally run aground in a wind shift. It was fun to be standing in waist deep water just a few feet from JollyDogs, and even more fun when large sea turtles wandered by. I was in snorkeling and checking the props when a big one swam slowly by, shell spotted with multiple barnacles. Amazing sight to behold, and he or she allowed me to get within a couple of meters before buggering off.

The water was a little chilly for our bones, so we actually did a little sun bathing on the trampolines to warm our bods and make a little vitamin D. Not a bad way to spend a morning.

Oahu and Hawaii Yacht Club 19 Jun 21

First of all, we never intended to stay at the marina 4 weeks.  Maybe 2, but hey, the dinghy went flat, I needed to see a doc for a follow up visit for pneumonia a while back, and we did want time to be tourists. We discovered the bus system and found our way around Honolulu quite handily, visiting Westmarine to buy boat stuff, visiting Costco multiple times to provision for the next 2 months, and even taking a bus ride to and from Diamond Head so we’d have poop left for the hike.

We were only on the dock for a couple of days when Port Captain Travis had to rearrange folks for an arriving club member with a 50 foot Catana catamaran - so we ended up rafted up against the trawler Snapdragon which was on the way from Fiji to Seattle. Our new neighbor was Graham Roberts, an interesting fellow who has worked in Antarctica for many years building hot water drills to penetrate the ice cap. As the boat engineer Graham had helped delivery skipper Ronnie Simpson bring the boat from Fiji a few months prior. Ronnie had returned to Fiji to fetch his own boat and they were going to continue on to the Pacific Northwest around the end of June. Graham kindly loaned us his car for a lap around the island one day.

One objective of our visit to Hawaii was to consider it for our eventual dirt home, as we really love the climate. Having given the big island a pretty thorough look it was time to check out Oahu, home to the big city, easy air travel to the mainland, the best medical facilities in the state, and many many pleasure yachts. We took Graham’s car and tooled up the East side to check out Kane’ohe Bay then on up to the North side where we had a look around at Waimea Bay then found lunch in Hale’iwa at The Beet Box.  It was a vegetarian place and we had great meals, but when we saw the veggie burger get delivered to another table we lamented our food choices. Wow, maybe someday we’ll get there again. 

Onwards out to the Northwest bit of the island to check out Dillingham Field where I spent a few days taking friends for glider rides on a previous visit to the islands, and where our pal Joe Giampietro helped start a skydiving operation years ago. There was no flying or skydiving that day but we did observe some badass kite surfers just offshore a bit West of the airfield.  From there we proceeded down the middle of the island past the US Army’s Schofield Barracks and on out to Ko’Olina Marina, nestled in a high end resort area.  We had attempted to secure a slip there prior to departing French Polynesia but they weren’t interested. Had we succeeded we would have likely spent a year in Hawaii. Turns out that resort is a beautiful environment but it’s hell and gone from a lot of the interesting things to do around Honolulu so best it didn’t work out.

We had been curious about maybe anchoring at Waimea Bay on our way to Kauai, but our time in Hawaii was limited and we elected to blow it off and spend time in Kane’ohe Bay instead. Having finally finished up all our boat chores I spent a day helping Kurt and Meg on SV Hullabaloo sort out their marine air conditioner, a fun chance to deal with some plumbing lines full of sea growth. Good to be learning about such things on someone else’s boat. We became fast friends with those guys over the few weeks we were moored close by, sharing several meals and too much Sailor Jerry rum.

About 10 days before we pulled out Ronnie Simpson sailed in from Fiji and rafted up with us, so we were the meat in the sandwich, so to speak. Ronnie turned out to be a remarkable individual with an amazing story - and a fun guy with a lot of sailing experience and wisdom to share. He’s bright, thoughtful, and intense - all qualities we enjoy and admire.  We befriended several other folks there, but one in particular,  a former US Air Force PJ, was a stand-out. Isabel baked him a fruit cake and we’ll deliver it at Hanalei Bay.

What’s Next? Wednesday 2 June 2021

Mark is a genuine hillbilly, born and raised in the Smoky Mountains of North Carolina.  Isabel grew up in London, England, but spent almost every weekend and much of her Summers sailing from the South coast of England, exploring the West coast of France, the Mediterranean, England and Ireland with her family or college sailing club friends. Isabel has been a member of the Royal Cruising Club for most all her life.

We met in Cairns, Australia in 1996, on a live aboard SCUBA trip out to Osprey Reef in the Coral Sea. Mark was on holiday after a grueling flight test program. Isabel had been slowly backpacking around the world after completing her linguistics degree at York University then working for a bit at Nigel Burgess yacht brokers in London.  When we met she had just cruised in the South Pacific for 2 seasons on a Crealock 37 based in New Zealand. We discussed our dreams and ambitions, and agreed that we both wanted to go sailing as soon as finances and circumstances would allow.  Somehow that dream evolved into romance and 23 years of marriage so far. . .

Fast forward to 2013 - the finances were looking good and we purchased JollyDogs in Alameda, California, sailed her to San Diego for the Summer then on to Ensenada before Labor Day weekend.  In June 2014, Mark retired from his career as a Flight Test Engineer at The Boeing Company (combat helicopters) in Phoenix, Arizona. Isabel had already quit her job as a professional landscape designer and sold the house and pretty much all our stuff. Our most precious possessions ended up in a couple of boxes in a buddy’s attic. Our last view of Phoenix, Arizona was of smog and 100 deg temperatures even before 8:00 am.  Good riddance!

We move aboard JollyDogs in Ensenada, Mexico and begin prepping for our Pacific Circumnavigation.  In November we launched out for La Paz, Mexico but by Christmas we had to return to the US to deal with a personal crisis, so JollyDogs found a new home for most of 2015 at Chula Vista Marina in San Diego.

In January 2016 we returned to Mexico, cruising the Pacific mainland as far South as Zihuatanejo and spending 3 seasons up in the Sea of Cortez, hauling out on Halloween of 2018 at Puerto Penasco for a refit prior to launching for French Polynesia. In April 2019 we departed from Puerto Vallarta, covering the 3000 miles in 21 days, arriving at Nuku Hiva in the Marquesas. We spent 2 years exploring much of the country, neglecting only the Australes in the far Southwest. This included about 2 months being confined in a remote part of Raroia, an atoll in the Tuamotus with a population of about 150.

By April 2021 we had concluded that if we continued West we would likely get trapped in Fiji for cyclone season (not good), so in search of new adventure we sailed from Nuku Hiva to Hilo, Hawaii - 2200 miles in 14 days averaging 6.5 knots. By late June we expect to be on our way to the Puget Sound with the objective of exploring the Pacific Northwest as far North as Alaska through late 2022.

Beyond Hilo 18 May 21

Well, the big island of Hawaii is a magical place, but it sure does rain a lot in Hilo.  Folks told us it was the dry season.  Sure would hate to be there for wet season. So on the morning of May 18th we upped anchor chugged out of the bay, then far enough offshore to get away from the influence of the big terrain that creates a bit of a blue hole effect even on the windward side of the island.  The day prior we had done our best to clean the bottom but wow was that water cold!  We did a fair to middling job and knew we’d need to hit it a bit harder before arriving in Oahu.

Conditions offshore were a bit sporty and the Alenuihaha channel between the big island and Maui was considered a bit treacherous in those conditions, so we elected to sail up the East side of Maui overnight and on to the Northeast tip of Molokai, then we turned West and enjoyed the spectacular coastline on the North side of Molokai before hooking a hard turn to port around the Western most headland and tucking into a small bay to anchor for the night. It had been a nice sail and we were ready for a break. The terrain did little to protect us from the 20+ knots of wind but the water was flat and we got the anchor to stick in the scree, so all was good. We ended up hanging out 2 nights and cleaning the boat bottom and props thoroughly before moving on to Oahu and the Hawaii Yacht Club.  We didn’t go ashore at Molokai; at that point we were pretty focused on a little city time, being tourists on Oahu, then moving on to Kauai.

The morning of May 21st I snorkeled over the anchor to develop a strategy for removing it from the hold in the lava flow where it was firmly hooked, and Isabel did a great job of driving the boat while I brought the chain in. Anchor up, we sailed with a single reef and jib on to Oahu, arriving at the Hawaii Yacht Club’s Aloha dock by early afternoon. Travis the Port Captain had moved some boats around so rather than raft up to another vessel we were able to moor directly to the pontoon. It was a tight fit but with both of us talking over our fancy new bluetooth intercom system we were able to maneuver to the dock in good form, and Marley the  sailing instructor was there to catch our stern line, making our parallel parking maneuver almost child’s play.

Turned out that Friday around 1730 the weekly beer can race gets underway and we had ringside seats to the starting line. It was a total blast to see the boats maneuvering under sail in the small harbor - no collisions a testament to the skipper’s skills, and we perched on the cabin top with a cold frosty one to take it all in and cheer them on. Afterwards the downstairs bar was hopping and the grill was lit - we purchased cheeseburgers to support the kids sailing program and fill our bellies with more than just the killer mojitos the bartender produced.

-Hawaii Yacht Club is known as the “friendly” yacht club, and we certainly made some great friends over the following four weeks. During that time we made repairs to the screecher sail, the main sail, and the dinghy which decided to spring a leak. We washed and waxed the topsides, polished stainless, did water maker maintenance, repaired mast steps, cleaned out every cupboard and chased away the mildew. Hilo was a total mildew factory as had been French Polynesia the last few weeks we were there. Honolulu turned out to be pretty dry, so we got everything back in great shape.

We also got our second Pfizer vaccine jab about 4 days after arriving.  Both Maui and Kauai had visitor rules in place prohibiting us coming unless we had been vaccinated at least 2 weeks prior to arrival, so we were pleased to get this done. That restriction contributed to our decision to blow off Maui and sail on up to Molokai, but it’s fair to say we were itching to get going anyway.

More about Oahu next time. . .

Exploring the Big Island of Hawai'i Part 1 - 3 May 21

As if the day of our arrival wasn’t excellent enough, we were invited to the home of another former cruiser and his wife on Saturday. It was May 1st, or May Day Lei Day as many Hawaiians celebrate, and our hosts were having a low country crab boil. The Dungeness crabs had flown in from the Pacific Northwest, and the feed included a mélange of corn on the cob, sausage, other veggies, too many deserts, and of course libations. We hadn’t gotten ourselves together enough to bring a side dish, so simply brought some of that fine Hinano lager purchased at vast expense in Hao.

John and Hauoli opened their lovely home in the Puna district to a lovely group of folks, Mike and Nancy were kind enough to fetch us yet again and return us to our dinghy, and we had a great evening. There was another former cruiser couple among the guests along with Scott and Emily, a young couple who had relocated from Southern California due to the lower cost of living on the Big Island. WTF? - that got my attention. Scott and Emily had purchased a 3-acre parcel of land for $40,000 and found a couple of new yurts on Craigslist which they erected with permanent foundations with an adjoining porch in between. This we had to see!

On Sunday we toured the bay in our dinghy, poking our nose into Radio Bay, the former favorite destination for visiting yachties. Rumor has it that the locals have wanted the cruisers out of there for years and when during a covid lockdown some cruisers got caught having a group cookout ashore the die was cast. Now there’s a big sign at the entrance to the small bay informing all comers that the bay is permanently closed. Being the good doobies we are, we didn’t trespass long enough to get caught, and were soon on our way to the river entrance where there’s a small marina adjacent to Suisan Fish Market. It’s just a concrete side tie affair on the street side, and there we happened upon a lovely old wooden boat being worked on by owners Seth and Ellen. Turns out Seth is in the IT business and Ellen is a journalist, writing pieces for Classic Boat and other pleasure yachting publications. They invited us to secure our dinghy their boat, Celeste, anytime we wished to go ashore. Might enhance security to have folks around each day. With parking across the street and only a mile walk to the famed Hilo Farmers Market, that sounded good to us!

Darned if John didn’t offer us his spare transportation appliance, a 2007 Nissan Versa “island car” that he and Hauoli just hang on to for visitors. Mike came in on the Monday morning for his canoe workout and ran us back out there on his way home. From there we drove down to Pahoa, considered the “Wild West” of the big island, where we found an interesting little village and a pretty darn good Thai restaurant. After a lovely meal we continued on, driving the “red road”, a coastal tour through rain forest and along rugged shores then stopping in for a visit with Scott and Emily along an introduction to yurt living. Amazing!

When we arrived at Hilo we had been at sea for two weeks so no coronavirus quarantine was required. We wanted to get the Pfizer vaccine and happened upon Safeway just after sorting out new cell phone plans at T-Mobile (Magenta Max +, babee, the geezer plan with pretty much unlimited LTE data)! The Safeway pharmacy staff were very friendly, noting that they had a full roster for the week but would put us on their wait list. Darned if they didn’t call us in the following day.

By our fourth day in Hilo, we’d made a bunch of new friends, sorted out a better cell phone plan, and gotten sorted out on our first Pfizer jab. We’d discovered great craft beer, had that cheeseburger in paradise, Dungeness crab, and some great Thai food. I reckon we were exceeding expectations!

Arrival Hilo! Friday April 30th 21

It rains a lot in Hilo. Radio Bay has been permanently closed to cruisers, so Reeds Bay is where it’s at. We found good holding in mud at a depth of 10 feet under the keels. There are some rocks too, and we occasionally heard the chain grinding around. The bay is protected by a monstrous breakwater made of cold lava, and various creeks dump cold water into the bay. Between the rain and the creeks there’s a fairly thick layer of fresh water floating on the surface, which makes for a cold top layer, a thermocline about a foot deep with much warmer underneath. That makes cleaning the bottom a bit unpleasant and difficult as we’re not acclimated to the cooler water and the thermocline makes seeing props and such on the other side really blurry. It’s also a bit tricky to run the water maker in that sort of brackish water, as the DOW membranes are rated for a particular maximum flow rate and operating pressure. Normally we would make water at 800 psi and 2.0 liters/minute, but in Reeds Bay pressure varied from 580 to 720 psi to limit the flow rate to 2.0 liters/minute, and I had to keep a really close eye on things to avoid trashing the membranes.

Old cruising friends Mike and Nancy from SV Shanti met us at the shore when we dinghied in on Friday the 30th of March and had us at the US Customs and Border Protection office minutes later. Officer George Valdez was kind enough to return to the office to check us in, as normally on Friday he closes down shop a bit early, and he had to be the friendliest and most efficient CBP person we’ve ever encountered. In a flash we were done with the formalities and after thanking George profusely our next stop was Hilo Brewing Company. Brewmaster / owner Sebastian cut his chops at Stone and Karl Strauss in San Diego, and after hearing that we had just sailed 2200 miles from French Polynesia the sampler platter was on the house! Every example was great, but the West Coast IPA won the “put that in my growler” award. Mike and Nancy led us back to the car and soon we were at Hilo Burger Joint for our arrival cheeseburger. Without reservations we had to wait for a table, so we took a walking tour of the older downtown Hilo business district to kill time. Sadly, Lucy’s Tacos was having their closing night, and as she does the best Mexican food in the area we resolved to wait until our arrival in the continental US (CONUS) to address our Mexican food low light which has been glaringly bright for quite some time. When we were finally seated at HBC we found we were next to the stage where a fine musician was playing acoustic guitar – quiet enough that we could still chat at normal tones. Seated at the table next to us was George the CBP officer and his lovely bride, and we had a good time telling her how kind her husband had been to us.

The evening ended with Mike and Nancy depositing us back at the dinghy which we had tied to a palm tree after setting a stern anchor. It’s fair to say that between the craft beer and elation and fatigue we were feeling a bit goofy. The way into the dinghy landing area was strewn with boulders just below the surface, so we had paddled the last bit in, and after we had been paddling back out for about a minute Isabel commented that the current must be exceptionally strong as we hadn’t managed to move more than a few feet. She then enquired if I had thought to retrieve the stern anchor.

Well, the best stories are generally created by dangerous events or really stupid actions, aren’t they?

Random Brain Waves Friday 30 April 21

The only way you know if your water maker is working to spec is to test the product water for total dissolved solids (TDS) and measure the output in liters/minute. I also smell and taste the product water before directing the output to the fresh water tank; not sure how many fancy water makers have that option. Don’t believe anyone who tells you their water maker works just as well as when it was new 10 or 20 years ago unless they test for TDS and flow rate. Just because they think it tastes OK doesn’t mean it’s working properly. Ever boil a frog slowly? Also – the performance of a water maker changes dramatically with sea water temperature. We’re now in 25-degree Celcius water now and we’re getting about 1.95 liters/minute at 255 ppm TDS. That’s excellent water, and it smells and tastes just so. When we were in warmer climes such as 31-Celcius, we were getting TDS in the 350 ish range and production at 2.0 liters/minute. Also, if the water pressure entering the high-pressure vessels is lower than spec (our DOW membranes liked 800 psi) the TDS will go up dramatically. That’s the problem with energy recovery water makers. Yes the energy recovery pump itself is a marvel of engineering, but if built well the common failure mode seems to be degradation of the feed pump output pressure over time. They are supposed to output something like 100 psi at a particular flow rate, and if they fall off that curve very much the product water gets unacceptable.

In the spirit of beating a dead horse, the performance of your cruising boat in light airs is critical. Ignore idiots who rave about how fast the boat will go in 25 knots. That much wind will make for some really lumpy seas and you’re not going to want to do that unless you’re racing around the cans. How many folks who live in RVs take them out to the drag strip on Friday night? This boat is our home, for goodness sake. If you’re a retired couple out cruising, you want a boat that’s safe and easy to handle, with sails that’ll make you go in light airs even when the wind is deep. You ain’t gonna get any younger, and if you want to do this for a long time you need to make sailing in difficult conditions safe and easy. Seawind really has that figured out.

As my friend Rich Boren likes to say, no cruiser ever complained about having too much solar, too much house battery capacity, too much fresh water, or too much fuel on board. You’re probably not clever enough to optimize every system on board for all conceivable conditions, so err a bit on the side of excess and you’ll probably be happy after a few years of cruising.

Notice how cockpit scuppers work in heavy seas. Because of the way waves can slap our hull surfaces and reflect or refract, sometimes our cockpit scuppers turn into freakin’ geysers. They have fairings on the bottom side to limit this problem, but it still happens. I tried putting a hard cover over the scupper nearest the saloon door we normally keep open unless it’s blowing rain because the geyser was causing salt water to land in the saloon. Not good. My “solution” apparently pressurized the fairing and blew it completely off the hull. Now I get to build and install a new one, so it seems I outsmarted myself. Again.

Unless your cruising agenda is just coastal stuff with a lot of marina living, you better learn how to fix everything on your boat and carry the right tools and spares. Only rich folks can afford to pay technicians to fix stuff all the time, and the quality of the technicians work is often in question anyway. There’s a lot of satisfaction in being able to DIY, and it allows you to enjoy remote places without fear or megabucks fees. Never forget the more complex a system is, the more things that will go wrong and will be difficult to troubleshoot.

Covid may have permanently changes the work life for many people – working from home seems to be a thing now. Eventually Starlink will enable more cruisers to work from remote anchorages.

Random Brain Waves Thursday 29 April 21

Enough about boat systems for a bit – my brain is tired. A thought about energy efficiency though. . . there’s this really cool thing called a Wonder Bag. We got one recently and Isabel loves it. One of the cooking energy saving devices we have is a pressure cooker – I bought her a Kuhn Rikon about 20 years ago, and we carry spares on board. It’s great, it’s quiet, and it makes cooking many dishes really fast. Combine it with the Wonder Bag, and suddenly you’ve got a slow cooker, and the stews and such taste much better when they’ve had all day to cook and meld and mellow. Order one online, pay a little extra, and some poor family in Africa gets one too. I like that business model.

We’ve just sailed over 2000 miles in 13 days – not a record by any means, but our personal best for highest average speed over this long a run. Currently we’ve averaged 6.6 knots in a large variety of sea state and wind conditions. We both continue to marvel at how well our Seawind 1160 sails in all conditions, but most critically light airs. We’re still doing 4 knots SOG with 6 knots true wind well aft of the beam, apparent wind 90-100 degrees. Right now the true wind has crept up to 12 knots, at about 130 degrees aft of the starboard bow. The seas are pretty flat, and with the apparent wind up around 95 degrees we’re seeing speeds over 7 knots. Lighter winds are real-world cruising conditions, and if you’re boat won’t sail well in those you better bring a lot of diesel. What’s making our boat do so well is the combination of our Zoom mainsail, a tough cruising sail, and our Neil Tasker( Barracouta) screecher, a sail original to the boat. It’s 13 years old now and unfortunately the laminated “performance” fabric is now starting to delaminate, which is a real bummer as we’d like to have this sail available to get to Seattle in a couple months. Generally when laminated sails start to delam, repairs are futile. Turns out that laminated fabrics don’t like hot/humid tropical environments, so what a surprise that our 13 year old sail is dying.

For us this has been an easy passage overall with only a couple of really difficult days, ITCZ was pretty much a non-event, very few squalls on the passage and only 1 with lightning nearby. We’ve been very fortunate, and yes we did monitor the passage weather and resist going until the day we departed. Our pals on Pitu and Easy left at the same time; Pitu a much faster boat seemed to have a pretty easy and quick passage, but Easy got pasted with huge winds and seas, mechanical problems, squalls and flakey winds for days on end. Captain Mike likened the passage to sailing through a mogul field. He knows a bit about that, being a former Olympic snow boarder.

We changed from Raymarine to B&G electronics in 2014, and we’re still delighted with the equipment. Currently we’re sporting a Zeus3 12” chart plotter, and the human factors engineering behind the display interfaces is excellent. The only gripe on the entire system is the blasted Airmar speed wheel device, a DST800 which we added in 2019. It’s impossible to keep the speed wheel working and I’ve concluded calibrating it for a decent range of speeds is an exercise in futility. It seems to have failed completely now, so it may get replaced with a new ultrasonic unit. Or nothing. We have forward scan sonar and that’s been an absolutely worthwhile investment – especially when creeping into shallow anchorages and trying to avoid bommies and such.

Screw performance sails. Tough cruising sails built for long life in the sun, challenging winds and hot/humid environments is the only way to go. Sails are a big financial investment and if they rip on a long passage it’s a pain to repair. We’ll sacrifice a little bit of high end performance any day for the security and reliability of well-designed and built sails. Thank you, Jamie Gifford at Zoom Sails, and you, Neil Tasker at Barracouta in Australia!

Oh, There is a reason it’s called “fishing”, not “catching”. . .

Balancing the Energy Equation Part 7

I’m as tired of this as anyone still reading it is but writing stuff down does make me think more about a subject, and I’m certainly open to opposing views or outright criticism. I’ve no feelings left to hurt anyway. All this thinking is helping to define the architecture of JollyDogs II.

Let’s talk generators. If you want aircon on the hook, then you don’t have a choice right now unless you’re sporting an enormous solar array, enormous LiFeP04 house battery bank and living in a very sunny environment. If your engine compartment is large enough and the builder has done a great job of acoustic insulation, then a small free standing diesel generator might be the most economical solution. That’s where my thoughts have been taking me lately, maybe a little Westerbeke unit. If you’re willing to give up the space and spring the big bucks, a completely self-contained diesel generator in a fully engineered acoustic and vibration isolating enclosure is the way to go. If your budget or available real estate doesn’t support either of those options, you can either plan to abuse your propulsion diesels and run a large output alternator, OR you can buy a portable Honda eu2200i or whatever the latest model is. If you do buy the Honda and expect to use it often, plan on carrying lots of jerry cans for gasoline and lugging the thing around on deck from a secure locker, which can be good fun in a rough anchorage. Also realize that while Hondas are quiet relative to a chain saw, they still make a lot of noise and you’re going to piss off other folks in the anchorage if you’re upwind of them, too close to them, or run the bloody thing at unsociable hours. We have one as an emergency power source and I have to remember to run it often enough to keep it properly maintained. We were determined to do without one but some dear friends sold their boat and gave us theirs, and the darn thing was still shiny and new with very few hours on it. So, we’ve got one and we’ve used it a few times, very few from necessity, but it does provide a redundant power source should our 2000-watt pure sine inverter croak. Recall our water maker requires AC power. All that said, Isabel finds the noise maybe twice as annoying as the water maker racket.

Don’t forget that gasoline is much more volatile than diesel so a bigger fire hazard. I don’t like handling it on the boat at all, but until someone offers a practical 20 HP electric dinghy outboard, that’s what we got.

We have high output small case alternators that will output around 108 amps for battery charging, but I hate abusing the diesels by running them at such low loads, and consider that as an emergency power source. When we’ve had to operate that way in an anchorage, I’ve often put the engine in reverse and pulled down on the anchor just to load it up sufficiently. Regardless, it a grossly inefficient way to charge batteries and should be considered as a very occasional need. If you’re going to only have an induction cooktop you better plan on having a generator too, as otherwise you’ll be doing meal planning that doesn’t involve stove top cooking when solar output is poor or something else gets priority for house battery power.

Given our hope to take delivery of our Seawind 1370 in Vietnam and cruise some of the steamier parts of Asia, I’m beginning to think we’re going to have to live with a generator of some sort. Ain’t going to be a portable unit, so I’m hopeful there will be machinery space in a well-insulated engine compartment so a small Westerbeke or similar will fit. Aircon will likely be in order, but just for the master cabin if a generator will power it. Isabel continues to remind me that many of the places she’s cruised in the South Pacific are much cloudier than French Polynesia, so we’re going to lose on the solar energy input.

Sorry, but I’ve kind of enjoyed fantasizing and thinking this through. Probably have completely different ideas by next week.

Balancing the Energy Equation Part 6

Just a little more about water makers. They’re heavy and take up space, and higher than design temperatures can contribute early failure of system components, perhaps most often membranes. We can buy a Dow 40” membrane from CruiseRO for around $200, but the same part in Papeete was about $600. Consider the ambient temperature of your installation space, and if you think you’re going to install the water maker in an engine compartment, understand that temperature environment while running the engine hard in a warm tropical environment. Maybe that space won’t harm the water maker components, or maybe you need to add a couple of bilge fans to actively move hot air out of the compartment while motoring. Maybe all you need to do is run the water maker only when the compartment is cool. The only component of an energy recovery water maker that makes noise is the feed pump – perhaps that component can live in the engine compartment and the rest in somewhere in the cabin interior. A high volume unit like the CruiseRO used a large AC electric motor spinning a high pressure pump common to pressure washers, and not only is that assembly noisy, but the pump’s vibration energy is transmitted through the high pressure hoses and the membrane pressure vessels, so everything becomes a loudspeaker. Installation in the cabin will likely guarantee that you will be keenly aware the water maker is running, and if your name is Isabel it’ll be a source of great irritation and the occasional headache. I did my best with our installation, ultimately shoehorning the entire machine into the aft cabin hanging locker and I did a lot of reduce the noise. Given my education and work background is in the field of noise and vibrations for both automobile and aerospace manufacturers, my efforts were reasonably effective yet even I am tired of hearing that thing run. Still, we love having abundant potable water.

We do have to be considerate of the energy the system uses, and generally run it on excellent solar days after the house batteries have reached 90% SOC, or while we’re having to motor underway in lousy sailing conditions. Always find a way to use excess electricity for something useful. If you want to minimize energy use and the size of your battery bank and solar array and minimize or eliminate burning fossil fuel to make water, throw down the bucks for the most reliable and supported energy recovery system you can buy. Running a lower production rate unit for more hours a day is generally the best way to save money and the water maker likely won’t care. Generally it’s better to run that sort of machinery more often, and the membranes should last for xx years or xx liters of water produced, so find the best water make to fit your budget. That said, you will anchor in some icky places where you just don’t want to produce water, either because of filth in the water or high turbidity due to organic life or sediment. Show up with full tanks and plan to go for the occasional day sail if you want to linger there.

Depending upon the environment you intend to cruise in, getting a good night’s sleep may involve an airconditioned master cabin. Cooling the entire boat isn’t practical unless you’re willing to run a generator full time or plugged in at a marina. Aircon equipment is expensive, heavy, and eats up valuable real estate in the boat. It’s also a real electricity pig.

Given your cruising environment, solar array effectiveness and useable capacity of your house battery bank, at some point you may have to convince your sailing companion(s) to austerely at times or cave in and have a generator aboard. We’ll think about that next time.

Balancing the Energy Equation Part 5

Water makers are a requirement for “high living” on a full time live aboard pleasure yacht. We’ve plenty of friends who have very efficient rainwater catchment systems and virtually all those guys also have a water maker. Some of them only use rainwater to fill jerry cans for showers and clothes washing, some run the water through 20 and maybe even 5 micron filters and into their drinking water tank, and some don’t even filter the water. Rainwater should be clean enough to drink, but what it touches on the way from the sky to the water tank might ruin your day. Bird crap, dead and rotting flying fish or squid, even crusted salt can spoil the water and contaminate the tank, leading to pumping it all overboard, then filling the tank with fresh water and shocking it with chlorine bleach, then pumping all that overboard and filling again with clean water. Folks who let the water get to their drinking water tanks have to pay close attention to how sanitary the surfaces, including canvas catchments or properly designed cabin tops are. On the drinking water tap side, running the water through both a fine filter system, a charcoal filter system, and perhaps even a UV light system might be the most prudent way to protect one’s health. If you want to cruise remote locales, keep in mind that medical help, especially something like a hospital with X-ray equipment or a full up trauma center could be several days or even weeks away. French Polyneisa covers an enormous geographical are with about a zillion inhabited islands / atolls, yet the capital city of Papeete doesn’t offer competent or complex treatment for strokes or cancer – medical evacuation to France or some other country is necessary.

So safe, clean potable water is key to good health, and in a tropical environment consumption goes up just to stay hydrated. Some areas have very little rain so either making your own water or sourcing water from onshore resources is the only option. Onshore resources may or may not be available, as in remote atolls those generally consist of cisterns that caught the last rainwater available, and the first priority for that is the survival of the locals, so one may or may not be able to obtain some of their supply. Also consider how you’d rather spend your time – humping water in jerry cans from an onshore resource to the dinghy and out to the boat for hours on end every few days? Do you like to shower? Do you want your spouse to be happy and smelling good? Do you want to be able to rinse the salt off the stainless and those expensive winches occasionally, or maybe rinse the salt out of the cockpit sometimes? You’re going to need fresh water.

Water makers are expensive and eat energy. The cheapest ones are generally the least energy efficient, but have a very high production rate. Our CruiseRO 30 gallon per hour unit cost about half of what we would have spent on a Spectra unit in 2014. It also uses about 3 times as much energy for the equivalent volume of water produced and it’s freakin’ noisy. That said, it has been insanely reliable, because it’s a very simple machine with no fancy engineering, no proprietary parts, and excellent engineering. You can build something very similar for even less money if you want that project.

Spectra’s patents seem to have expired so there are competitors in the high efficiency water maker space, all building their own version of an energy recovery pump. Reliability seems to be an issue with some manufacturer’s products. The energy recovery pumps are a bit of an engineering marvel. Where all the manufacturers seem to cut corners is with the feed pump, a common failure mode which has plagued several of our friends whether they’re equipped with Spectra, Schenker or Osmosea. Buyer beware and expect to do a bit more engineering to “enhance” the system with a better feed pump. Also make sure the support network is worldwide, and carry spares.

We’re water pigs, we shower daily, and we like it.

Balancing the Energy Equation Part 4 Wednesday 28 April 21

Refrigeration for food and beverages is the biggest chunk of the daily energy drain on a smaller pleasure yacht, assuming we’re cooking with LPG. Our Seawind 1160, built in Australia in 2008, is equipped with an ICEER 2-compartment top loading freezer designed and manufactured by Mal Betts. We were fortunate enough to have Mal aboard as our guest during a multi-hull rally in 2013 at Catalina Island off the coast of Southern California. As a small businessman, Mal was keenly aware that the quality, reliability and energy efficiency of his freezer systems was paramount to the success of his business. That ICEER freezer has never once given us a lick of trouble, and early on Seawind made a big deal of how the freezer could run off the poxy solar array they installed back then. The freezer is a well insulated eutectic design, meaning coolant compartments around the freezer cavity are brought down to a low temperature and held there by the compressor system. If it’s been shut off it takes about 36 hours to get down to operating temperature, but once there it stays there and uses little energy. For some reason Seawind stopped using Mal as a supplier, and we’re a bit suspicious that their newer installations are on par with the ICEER equipment.

The factory installed 130-liter Isotherm front loading refrigerator offers convenience but it is an energy pig. Every time the door is opened the cold air spills out, a problem with older RV or small yacht sized conventional front loading fridges. There is a solution that offers about the same level of convenience, but we haven’t seen the design in a small unit (yet). The superyachts we’ve crewed recently have been equipped with standard European household appliances that are run on 230 VAC 50 Hz inverter power. What’s interesting to consider is that those appliances have to meet strict energy efficiency requirements, so their overall food storage design, insulation and door seals function very well. A front loading fridge has a bunch of drawers, top to bottom, each sealed so that only the one you need to dig into is exposed to the ambient cabin air, and the drawer doesn’t spill the cold air out when open. Their freezers are identical in design. Because these appliances are manufactured in very large numbers and operate on conventional power they’re relatively cheap to purchase, and they seem to survive the marine environment just fine. We’ve friends on a Switch 51 catamaran that use this type appliance, and even with the electrical efficiency losses through the inverter Jef, the electrical engineer husband of the couple is convinced that it’s overall a more energy efficient solution. I think it bears further investigation, especially to determine what form factor units are available.

We spent time in many anchorages (up to 8 weeks)  in French Polynesia where there was no access to any fresh vegetables or fruit. If you want to eat it, you better bring it. Most of that stuff lasts a lot longer in refrigeration, months if properly wrapped and packed. Eggs, cheese, butter, BACON, all that stuff needs somewhere to live if you want to be eating it 6 weeks later.

Fresh food, great meals – that’s what keeps crew morale high, and energizes us to enjoy our day. Let’s go kite boarding!