May 17, 2006

Ahoy! Greetings from 22 49.678N 65 13.310W. It is 2:15 pm. Sunny and hot. 86.7 degrees. We are about 15 miles short of our first waypoint, and 265 miles under the keel since setting sail. Winds have shifted to SE around 20 knots. By not sailing the rhumbline, we hoped to catch some favorable currents. It is likely that we have because our speed through the water had been reading around 6.5 knots, but velocity made good is about 1 knot higher. We have even seen some readings above 8 with the following seas moving us along. Our course is 5 degrees. The windvane keeps us on course with shifts of around 10 degrees on either side. This area is very different than in November when we had to motor through it for lack of wind. Strong winds, big seas and rain is in the forecast for the next two days according to one source, but another source shows diminishing winds. Seas right now are around 6-8.

Unlike the trip south, so far things on the boat are working well. The bilge pump goes on a little too frequently, but no so much that I have done more than take a cursory look for the source. It is difficult to be motivated to do much beyond sleep and keep watch. Michael and I are doing three hour watches. Which means that I get 12 hours out of the cockpit a day to sleep, gather weather information, navigate, clean, and grab sleep in segments of no more than 3 hours (assuming one falls asleep instantly after watch!) Last night Michael spotted an eastward heading container ship which passed 1 mile to our stern. The radar picked up two others, but only one was barely visible. Beyond making certain the sails are set properly and the course is held, ships are an important reason to keep watch. Many a sailor has lost boat and life being run over by a ship which fails to notice the sailboat. Sailboats are notoriously difficult to discern on a radar screen due to a limited amount of metal, and it takes an alert helmsman to avoid a collision. If the horizon is only 5 miles away (an estimate which I know will be corrected), a ship traveling at a modest 20 knots can be on your boat 15 minutes after appearing on the horizon. Even if the ship saw the sailboat at the last instant, ships take miles to slow down and cannot alter course very easily. We live by the motto that we should get out of the way, regardless of the rules of the road. There is a saying about being dead right.

At Penns Landing for the winter, Welcome received a needed sanding and several coats of varnish to all exterior woodwork. The boat looks great. Vern, the fellow with the skill to do such a spectacular job, ordered me to keep it up by applying two fresh coats on top of the old each year. So much time went into the work, that I resolved to keep it up.

Michael’s mal de mar has reared its ugly head. The miracle drug Stugeron seems not to work going North. He is keeping hydrated, but is not eating. We are both anxious about his comfort given the forecast. He has threatened to swim home, but I won’t let him. Who would I talk to? Already I hear bagpipes when I am on watch and need him to reassure me that they are only auditory hallucinations. Onward we sail.

Cap’t Turley