AMIS Glory meets APL Qatar quite suddenly

We must be in the shipping lanes between Japan and the US West coast because since yesterday the AIS system has been reporting ships in our vicinity. When a ship comes into our AIS view which is a radius of 48 miles, the screen lights up. At night we see this, wondering "who turned on a light in the cabin?" Then we see the ship Gorgoypikoos is 42 miles to our north and will pass us in two hours with 30 miles to spare. Nothing to worry about.

If the ship is calculated to pass within 6 miles of us then a little alarm will sound when it is 6 miles away. That's handy. Then we can scan the horizon and maybe find the culprit. Earlier we had a ship that was predicted to pass .7 miles to our south, then a few seconds later, 1 mile to our north. Clearly we were on a collision course. We watched that guy carefully until he eventually passed .5 miles to our south. Whew! On the AIS report on that ship was the description "Not under command" That's unsettling.

And then there was the kicker. Two vessels were on a converging course and both were to pass each other only 5 miles to the south of us. We watched them on the AIS screen until we could see them visually on the horizon. The AMIS Glory was at a range of 7.39 miles, speed over ground 12.2 knots, on a course over ground of 189 true. AMIS Glory was headed to Osan Korea. The APL Qatar was headed to Balboa, range 8.94 miles, SOG 19.4 knots, COG 99 true.

We watched those two little arrows approach each other on the screen. We went to the cockpit and could make out both ships approaching each other on our horizon. One had towering cranes on board for unloading containers. The other was an oil tanker of some sort. Suddenly the VHF radio erupted with one ship hailing the other. It was hard to make out what they were saying but we assumed they were agreeing on how to pass, starboard to starboard, or port to port.

Suddenly we saw a flash of light south of us and the radio started chirping. As we watched we could see fire coming from one or both of the boats as they now looked like one ship. And then we heard the mayday distress call on the radio. "Start the engine, let's turn into the wind." I said. We did so and rolled up the genoa, watching the speck of fire on the horizon. I went below to the chart plotter and found the two vessels on screen with an X through the triangle. Then I made that position a way point with an established latitude and longitude.

From left, Georgios, Dimitris, Elias, Alexandros, and Bob

We headed Traveler south towards the waypoint and the little flame on the horizon. I tried channel 16 on the VHF radio but could raise no one. It took us an hour to motor to the location. As we grew near in the late afternoon light we could make out one ship leaning hard to port, its bow awash. The other ship was a mass of containers, some floating, others sinking as we watched. We looked for survivors. I switched off the engine so we could hear better and since it was dark by then I swept the scene with our big hand held searchlight.

Soon we heard yelling off our port bow. I started the engine and headed to port, then switched off and listened again. We launched the dinghy and I rowed toward the sound and soon found a small group of people in the water, their orange PFDs glowing in the blaze of my flashlight. I got on the handheld VHF and directed Connie to steer traveler to me. Then I was surrounded by men in the water yelling in a foreign tongue. We got them all aboard by heaving them one by one into the dinghy then onto Travelers deck.

Connie got out the blankets and we got them all seated on deck and in the cockpit. We had eleven survivors. "Get the rum!" Connie says, "We have a little Bacardi, will that do?" "Better get the Havana Club." I said. Connie gave me that look. You know that look. I shrugged my shoulders. So our eleven Greeks downed our two bottles of Havana Rum as quick as you could say, "Bob's your uncle."


Later, we inventoried the food stores, started soaking pots of beans, and broke into the cookie supply. The way we figure it, we can get the boat to Seattle with all 13 people and have barely enough food to keep us all fed. We might run low on toilet paper and coffee. Most importantly, we have 15 bottles of wine. That's two bottles a day meaning the Greeks get one bottle between them all and Connie and I split the other. We are locking our wine in our cabin. So, it looks like we'll see you in the Strait of Juan de Fuca, that is, unless the Coast Guard insists on finding us and taking off our Greeks.

That would be shame because Connie is teaching them the words to "Drunken Sailor" and they are starting to get the harmony down quite well.

All the Greeks ran forward so they could take this picture of Connie

Note: the first three paragraphs of this blog entry are quite true. Not so for the last seven.

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Halfway Day

Connie is issuing party hats today because it is Halfway Day! Eleven days out of Nawiliwili Bay, Kauai, we hope to reach the "throat" of the Strait of Juan de Fuca eleven days from today. That will be Sunday August 21st. It's another 56 Nm to our landfall at Port Angeles and fresh pizza. So perhaps the crowd should plan on gathering at the PA welcoming pier on Monday the 22nd at noon. No pushing or shoving. Wear your nice seafaring clothing. We will have a raffle and whoever wins gets to trade me their keys to their Chevy for the keys to this darn boat. We will turn our backs to the sea and walk inland, kicking the dirt and kissing the hard cold ground.

Not.   

But seriously, we are about half way and that is a thrill. Is that right, my crew? ..... I'm receiving a muted response.

We are in the groove, doing our 3 hours on 6 hours off watches. I'm sorry there is no misery or dismay to report. Actually, it's kinda boring. So what can I write about? I'm thinking about that and maybe I'll come up with something. In the meantime we'll keep you posted, just not as often.

You get on back to your boring life and I'll get back to mine. I'm needed on deck right now so I can lay on the cushions and stare into the sky, looking for Mickey Mouse, Goofy, Panda bears, and smiley faces in the puffy clouds floating by.

Scott, Connie and Randy

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Seattle Bound Day 9

Special day for me today as it is my birthday! Blue blue sky with fluffy white patches of cloud drifting overhead. The same little fish is riding our bow wave - has been now for three days and nights. About 15 inches long, slender, brown with white vertical stripes. Hitching a ride to the Salish Sea.

We are not quite half way home, still skirting the big high pressure zone. Our router says we have 13 days to go on a 22 day passage. I guess we've been lucky, the engine has only been on 55 hours thus far. Other boats we've been following on the radio have been motoring a lot more. Our scheme is to only motor when we cannot keep up more than 2 knots of speed under sail. Thus far our slowest sailing has been about 3 knots.

If someone feels like it, post a comment on my facebook that I'm spending my birthday in the vicinity of Latitude 40 degrees north, longitude 158 degrees west.

We cracked the last melon today, all we have left for fresh veggies are a 17 apples. Still got potatoes and onions, etc.. and of course, the bilge is full of wine.

Maybe tonight I get to have some of that wine with my birthday dinner which is rumored to be pizza. Glorious pizza!

Scott, Connie, and Randy

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Seattle bound day 7

Motoring along under a blue sky at five knots it seems like we are standing still. A gentle swell from the south east rocks us back and forth. The mainsail flaps from one side to the other as we try to wing it out a little more to catch what little wind there is. At the bow of the boat, right at the waterline (the cutwater?) a little striped fish has been riding our bow wave for the last day. Out in the blue we see small jelly fish creatures about five inches in diameter each with a little curved sail sticking out of the water.

My ears are ringing and will probably continue to ring until we get to some wind and can turn off the engine.

How good it feels to be clean, to wear clean clothes, and to change the bed sheets! How good it feels to be off shift right at dinner time and thus be able to have a glass of red wine with the meal. How good it feels to be approaching your 53rd birthday and have your able mate at your side.

I believe we are more than one third of the way home, having traveled about 900 nautical miles from Nawiliwili Harbor. Tonight, I'll check in with the Pacific Seafarer's Net, a HAM radio net at 14300kHz. I'll get to hear the locations and sea conditions of other boats that are a couple of days ahead of us. One of the guys on a boat named Rafiki has no working engine and his auto pilot stopped working. He is hand steering and it looks like he's decided to head for the Alutian Islands. We hear his voice every night and worry about him.

No worries here, though. We still have lettuce!

Scott, Connie, and Randy

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And with a sigh of relief

And with a sigh of relief we exit the strong trades and approach the center of the Pacific high pressure zone. As we do, the wind dies down as do the seas. I've got all the sails up and am taking the old advice "when in doubt, let the sails out". I've loosened them all to get a little belly, a little more curve to the shape. We are not pointing as high as we could if we had stronger wind and flatter sails, but the most important thing is to keep the boat moving.

Randy brought out the rod and reel and we selected a pretty blue lure so now that's dragging behind the boat. We can always hope.

Randy did catch a Mahi Mahi

Last night Connie ran the engine for about an hour when the wind went slack and the waves made the sails crash back and forth. When she turned it on, it was so loud that I jumped out of bed! "What's going on?"

Now that the seas have calmed down we can dig into some of that wonderful stashed food and start making some real meals. Tonight we are thawing out actual sausages and having them with homemade sauerkraut and potatoes. That might not sound so special to you but for us, after three days of eating sandwiches and crackers it sounds like heaven. I might actually have a glass of wine tonight if I'm not on duty.

Having an excess amount of time to just sit still and hold on tight, we've all had time to think about what we will be doing in the future. We're thinking about the boat and what projects need to be done:

Finish removing teak decks. Glass and paint decks.
Paint the side of the boat (green)
Re-bed ALL of the deck objects: stanchions, cleats, pulpits, tracks, etc...
Replace the center hatch.
Replace or rebuild the old head.
Replace head hoses.
Varnish or oil teak.
Replace propeller shaft.
Have someone check the rudder bearings and stuffing box.

We're thinking about where we might want to live:
Olympia, at Swantown marina where we know lots of people.
Seattle, where we know lots of people and where Tesla lives.
Port Townsend, where we know no one but where they have a great place to get boat work done.

We're thinking about what we'll do once we hit the Strait of Juan de Fuca:
Port Angeles and pizza.
Port Townsend and reciprocal moorage.
Seattle and access to the airport so Randy can catch a flight home to Santa Fe.
We gotta put the boat someplace by September so we can do our annual pilgrimage to California.
And in the late fall, we gotta decide where to live and what to do with the winter. For Connie, she wants to play music as much as possible. We have to find a place where I can do boat work and she can play music.

So much to think about. I'm glad to have all this spare time to think. For yourself, think about it, how often do you have long expanses of time to just think, to think things completely through, examining all the alternatives? I bet you are pretty busy most of the time. I know I was when I was living the work-a-day life.

I'm just saying....

Here is an update from later on in the day: A bright blue/yellow Mahi Mahi took the lure. The reel went zinggggg.. Connie yelled, "Fish On!" I came up top and saw the line peeling off rapidly. In seconds it would all be gone. So I grabbed the last of it with my hand and felt the fish sounding. We got the line straightened out and the reel into Randy's hands so he could reel in all that had run out. Fifteen minutes later he landed a beautiful Mahi Mahi (or Dorado). Guess what's for dinner?

Note to Randy's brother: Send email with current political news please.

Scott, Connie, and Randy

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Living on a starboard tack

We've been on a starboard tack for 685 miles, five days straight. With a stiff trade wind easterly wind the boat heels to the left. Along with the wind comes the waves running three to eight feet. The strike us on the starboard side also. When it's lighter, we open a few hatches to get some air circulation. If the waves build and start crashing over the boat top, then we are forced to batten down the hatches. You will hear a bang that sounds like somebody slapping the side of the boat with a 300 pound fish. The boat will jerk a little to the left and ... wait for it... the sheesshh, splat of five buckets of water hitting the cockpit, or the cabin top. Occasionally you'll be in the cockpit when this happens and you will find the need to move quickly, ducking behind the dodger for cover. Where you once were is now a dripping mess.

We are trying to get north of the persistent trades. They are fairly established this time of year reaching across from mainland USA west past Hawaii. We've got another day or so before we get across these winds. When we do, we'll be in a calmer area near the center of the high. Some motoring will be necessary, then eventually we'll get on the top side of the high that will be our sleigh ride home.

The boat is starting to move around quite a bit and I'm having trouble keeping the laptop on the table. Connie looks up and sees a cloud approaching. "Looks like a little rain ahead." The seas are jumbled. Then all of a sudden the rain comes. We rush to close hatches and bring in cockpit cushions. The seas calm down right away and the boat slows down. In five minutes it stops raining and the sun comes out. Our boat speed has gone from 6.5 to 3.5. In the sun, the wet decks start to steam as they dry.

We open the hatches and mop up the rainwater on the floor. The wind increases a little bit and before you know it we are tooling along again at 5.5 knots. I guess you'd call that a little squall.

Scott, Connie, and Randy

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Seattle Bound Day three

What happened to day two? I don't know. We are just drifting along playing pick up sticks and drinking wine that we just forgot to post.

Not exactly.

It's been a rough first three days, kinda like or first three days out of Cabo San Lucas. A strong ENE trade wind is blowing. It's unknown hundreds of miles thick (north to south) right now. Our job is to go as close hauled as we can stand, loosing our easting a little bit, until we come out the other side. Then we can try to head east toward home.

Nothing but snacks and quick meals so far. We are on 3 hour watches around the clock. Most of the time it is too bouncy to read so I spend time looking out at the horizon.

Only two things have broken this far. The stern anchor bracket and the entry way screen door. We are all in pretty good spirits, knowing that once we've crossed this blast of NE wind it will be more gentler sailing.

We are watching other boats ahead of us waiting for them to report calm seas and light winds.

We are not missing the crazy political theater going on in the good ole USA.

Scott, Connie, and Randy

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Seattle Bound Day 1

Gonna make this a quick one. We are 30 hours out of Nawiliwili Harbor, Kaui Island, Hawaii. I've put our boat name on the Pacific Seafarers Net so they will be doing roll call in a few minutes. We check in, give our lat and long and sea conditions. There are a couple of boats about two days ahead of us on their way to the mainland so it's nice to see their progress and what the weather is like further north.

We did not leave on a Friday. That's bad luck. So we waited til Saturday. We ate all the bananas because having a banana aboard is also bad luck. Exiting the breakwater we encountered 8 foot closely spaced swells. That was fun. Once we fought our way 8 miles east of Kaui, we were able to lay in a tack that would clear the NE tip of the island. By sundown we made the point where the seas were quite confused. Randy tossed his cookies over the rail and away we went.

There is a big high pressure dominating the NE Pacific and we are trying to get across the stiff trade wind flow so we can turn east towards Seattle. For now we are headed just west of north. Big seas, rough conditions, spray in your face, etc... I'm having trouble staying on the seat here in the nav station.

I've updated our position report so you can check that if you like on Farquar. See the URL in the heading of this web page.

Other than people puking and water coming over the rail, everything is just dandy.

Send us some good vibes and we'll keep on blasting through this NE wind to get to the promised land...

Scott, Connie, and Randy

Oh yea, we logged 140 miles in the last 24 hour period!

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Nawiliwili Harbor, Lihue HI

Traveler is tied to the dock in Nawiliwili Harbor after moving around from Hanalei Bay where we waited out some tropical storms.  Our new crew member came aboard yesterday and we are spending time getting to know him and seeing the sights on Kauaʻi.  Randy is a vagabond rascal with lots of sea miles and many good travel stories.  The trades are blowing strong out of the east and are predicted to moderate by the weekend so it looks like we'll be getting the heck out of Hawaii soon.  
 

The yellow line is our predicted course.  Red is straight on a chart.  Blue is the great circle route.

Most likely the next blog entry you will get from us will be from at sea, via the SSB.   You should be able to track us here at this web site:  http://farkwar.com/boats/traveler.map


The FastSeas weather routing service is predicting our passage to take 21 days, 8 hours.

Everyone we've met here in Hawaii has been wonderfully friendly.  We are so glad we came.  

Hanalei Bay, Kauai

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head, but that doesn't mean...

I bet you've been wonderin' what we've been doin' down here in Hawaii land. Did you think our git up & go got up & went?  No, being the cautious, prudent sailors we are, we've been waiting for the right weather window, the crew window, the fully provisioned boat, and the stars to align properly. Seriously, why rush? We're in Paradise!





Meanwhile, we've ambled (major understatement) across the 100 mile Hawaiian archipelago to the far northern island of Kaua'I where we found some hotel WiFi to pirate. Here in Hanale'i we watch the TransPac single-handers arrive from San Francisco after battling the remnants of tropical storm Celia. They glide into the bay, drop an inadequate anchor and make their way to the nearest pub.  We then watch their boats wander around the bay looking for good holding.

We went from the crowded Ala Wai harbor in busy Honolulu, Oahu

To the peaceful, but rolly, waters of Hanalei Bay, Kauai

We've watched tropical storms/hurricanes Blas, Celia, Darby, and now Estelle approach and the first two pass. Once this cavalcade goes by we will be clear to continue our journey across the NE Pacific. Our new crew member, Randy arrives next week. Then we will provision perishables for the 5th time and have our lines ready to cast off when the coast is clear, whenever that might be?

Brent, Eileen, and the skipper on the beach at Poka'i Bay Oahu

Here in the bay the rain squalls keep us busy shutting and re-opening the hatches, mopping up the floors, caulking those leaks in preparation for winter in the Pacific Northwest. South of the bay we see 1000? foot tall waterfalls streaming down the lush cliff sides.  It ain't so bad!