can we help
+44(0)1983 296060
+1 757-788-8872
tell me moreJoin a rally

Menu

American Spirit II - Day 280; Crisis in the Indian Ocean - Day 8 of 11 & a Tripple Green Flash Sunrise; Sunday, October 12, 2014



Seven days down with our mast still up but 4 more days to go until we get to Mauritius and safety.

During the 3:00 AM to 6:00 AM watch Jeremy was hallucinating about the blackened, grilled chicken we'd had the evening before for dinner. He couldn't get it out of his mind during his watch, and was so involved in the olfactory experience that he thought he could still smell the chicken. It was that good! Actually, Jeremy figured out during his watch that he was sitting next to the barbecue grill, the same one that the sumptuous chicken had been cooked on. No wonder he couldn't get the chicken out of his mind! It was still radiating a sweet smell. I guess someone who will go unidentified (Joel) forgot to clean the grill. Go figure.

Up at 6:10 AM, I relieved Jeremy and noticed on the chart plotter that we had a large cargo ship by the name of Yenisei, 945 feet in length, heading to Singapore. Even without the AIS showing the course, speed and distance of this vessel in relation to us, it was lit up in a manner that made it easy to determine its direction and if it posed a threat to us. The vessel had two range lights; large, bright white lights; one on the bow and another on the aft superstructure. The former light was lower in relation to the latter. If such a ship is heading right for you, these range lights line up one on top of the other. In the case of the Yenisei, the bow range light was to the left of the aft one, which meant that it was going right to left; plus as it got closer I could see a red, port light on the bow. What you never, ever want to see is two range lights lined up one on top of the other, and both bow running lights, red and green.

At 7:00 AM the wind was 8/10 knots, and our speed thru the water was 4.5 knots and over the land 5.5 knots; a 1 knot helping current. Its normal to get helping currents in the trade winds, as these currents are often driven by the winds. It was cloudy this morning, and a rain shower was just off the port beam and starting to sprinkle on me. Merlyn was 1.3 miles astern.

At 7:05 AM another ship, the cargo ship Kota Jaya, 633 feet long,was heading to Singapore and passing us starboard to starboard.

About this time a big increase in wind occurred, going from 8 knots to 20. From that pesky rain shower off my port beam; now in front of me. Now I see the large black cloud coming out of this innocent rain shower. Missed that one! There are three color types of clouds that we deal with every day on the ocean. White clouds, almost always good. Gray clouds, full of rain but not usually bad, unless they have a roily squall line coming out of them. Then there are black clouds, and these are always bad boys. I never met a black could that I liked!

At 7:30 AM Cocos Keeling start time, or 5:30 AM local time, an event happened that is so rare that I've only seen this event only one other time on this circumnavigation and only one other time in my lifetime. The elusive green flash sunrise! And not only did I see a green flash, I saw 3 of them. A triple green flash. I'd seen a double green flash sunset before, but never a triple. How can that happen? Because of waves. As the boat goes up and down you can see a sunrise or sunset more than once. And this particular event lasted about 5 seconds. I had stood in the transom for the previous 10 minutes, holding on to a stanchion in front of the port wheel, just staring at the eastern horizon. My eyes riveted to it. There were clouds all over the horizon, making a green flash event probably not likely. But its not like I'm doing anything else this morning. So I stare and I don't blink. Blinking is the worst thing you can do when you're looking for a green flash. That's how you miss them. I don't know the exact time of sunrise; and I don't know exactly where on the horizon it will shoot up. But I have a pretty good idea. At any rate, I'm holding on to the stanchion, and I see the flash. Actually, it was more than a flash. The upper limb of the sun, about 1/3 of it across the top, was 'painted' turquoise. It was incredible! I yelled at the top of my lungs 'Yes!'; then saw a second green flash; another 'Yes!'; and finally a third green flash and, you guessed it, another 'Yes!.' These three yeses were followed by two really loud expletives that start with an f. So here I am, its 7:30 or 5:30 AM, in the middle of the Indian Ocean, and I'm jumping up and down in the cockpit yelling yes, yes and yes and...you get the picture. This is the 19th green flash event we've (American Spirit II) seen on this trip. After seeing about 200 sunrises, I guess you could say the odds of seeing a green flash sunrise are about 1 in a hundred. One percent. As this was going on Joel yells from down below in the cabin. He's off watch and asleep. He thinks I caught a fish. Just before the sun rose and I saw the flashes, a green hue emanated from the sun under the horizon to a cloud above it. So I knew I might get lucky seconds before I did. And the whole eastern horizon was cloudy. It was just this one sliver of horizon, maybe 3-4 percent of the entire eastern horizon, that was clear; and then, just under a cloud bank. Like someone had taken a knife and horizontally cut a slit in the clouds and then pulled it open just a little for me to see. I am the only person I know of who has ever seen a green flash sunrise; and now I've seen two!

At 7:35 AM I put three fishing lines in the water: one pole and two hand lines. I feel lucky today.

At 8:00 AM I take a reef out of the mainsail. I have one reef in now. I do this because Merlyn is starting to creep up on us a mile away. I need more boat speed to stay ahead of them. The wind is 12/15 knots, and we're moving at 5.4 knots thru the water and 6.0 knots over the land. Its sunny behind us now, but squally clouds lie ahead. That's OK because they're moving with the trade winds like we are and we won't catch them.

This leg we're on now, from Cocos Keeling to Mauritius, is 2,350 nautical miles. The second longest leg on our journey. The longest leg, from Galapagos to Hiva Oa in the Marquess islands in French Polynesia, was 2,980 miles long. And that leg felt long. Not this time. Joel and I are over it. If this leg was going to last another 30 days I could care less, except for the slight will the mast stay up problem, that is.

Tim from Ghost hosts the 10:00 AM net. During the net we could hear Alpheratz clearly over 500 nautical miles away. You have to love SSB radio.

Breakfast at 11:00 AM consists of scrambled eggs; potato; chilled pear halves; and bread. During breakfast the discussion turns to AI (Artificial Intelligence), relativity, light speed, 6th sense, etc. Between Joel, Jeremy and myself there is nothing we haven't seen on the Discovery Channel, History Channel, National Geographic Channel, etc. When I ask Joel how he knows that what he is talking about is true and accurate, he'll say, Discovery Channel. That's all the proof I need! It is, really.

Our noon position is 18 degrees, 56 minutes South; 67 degrees, 25 minutes East;and we're 557 nautical miles from Mauritius. From noon yesterday we've traveled 149 miles at an average speed of 6.3 knots. Not bad for a wounded boat.

Around noon another cargo ship heading to Singapore, the Devongate, at 656 feet, pops up on the AIS. How do we know the name of these ships, how long they are and where they're going? Because our AIS (Automatic Identification System) tells us. That's why no boat leaving on an extended voyage should leave port without it. Getting back to the Devongate, they are gong to pass Merlyn at 600 feet, which is too close. So Jonathan on Merlyn calls up the ship and talks to them. They finally come back and say that they're changing course to miss him (and us).

About this time we had a hit on one of our fishing lines. It ran out so fast that by the time Joel could get to it and tighten the drag, the line had run completely out of the reel. So long to another lure!

I napped from 11:40 AM to 12:40 PM.

At 1:30 PM Joel went to the bow to change the chafe points on the two spinnaker halyards holding up the mast. I release one halyard at a time as he does this. Then winch them in tightly when he's done.

Joel goes down for a nap around 3:00 PM.

At 5:00 PM we put out more main. We still have one reef in. Merlyn is catching us again so we need to speed up to make sure we stay ahead of them. The extra sail increases our speed from 5.3 to 5.6 knots.

Dinner at 5:30 PM is freeze dried Beef Stew; something called 'Fecundo;' Jasmine rice; and breakfast crackers with butter, jelly and peanut butter; plus chilled fruit cocktail for dessert.

At 6:06 PM I go below to type up a log and do some emails. During this time period Merlyn has a long conversation with a ship Captain, about the World ARC, our trip, etc. The crew of that ship was very interested in what we're doing out here.

During the sunset at 8:00 PM there is a green hue in the cloud above the setting sun, but clouds obstruct the sun as it sets on the horizon, so no green flash.

I nap from 8:00 to 8:45 PM, then relieve Joel and go on watch from 9:00 PM to midnight.

At 10:49 PM the wind is 10/11 knots, our speed thru the water is 5.0 knots and our speed over the land is 5.7 knots. Merlyn is 1.1 miles behind us. A lot of stars are out and the temperature is cool. I'm wearing my foul weather pants and jacket.

Joel relieves me at midnight and stands the 12:00 AM to 3:00 AM watch. I then go below and turn on the SSB radio to send out a log and emails; and receive messages. I connect to a SSB station in Brunei, Philippines 3,188 nautical miles away on a bearing of 68 degrees. Sending and receiving are both slow, with the speeds of 600 and 200 bytes per minute. I like to have a speed of at least 1400 bytes per minute; and the fastest speed possible is 3200 bytes per minute.

After I send and receive the emails, Joel comes down below and requests a GRIB weather file. After sending the request over the SSB radio, I wait a few minutes and connect with the SSB station again and Voila!, the GRIB file is ready for downloading. You have to love technology. Joel then comes back down from the cockpit and reviews the GRIB file. It looks like we'll have 15 knots of wind most of the way to Mauritius. So no bad weather is coming. The wind is from the east; and we'd prefer it from the southeast. That would make it easier for Merlyn to sail, and sail faster. Oh well, you can't have everything.

In bed at 1:05 AM.

Brian Fox



Previous | Next