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

Menu

Merlyn of Poole - Monday, 7th April - 11° 48'S; 145° 22'W



Sea legs, naps and bananas!

Yesterday was mixed in terms of wind and speed. The wind dropped in the morning, and we had speeds as low as ten or eleven knots. After whisking along with twenty to twenty-five knots, that felt dead slow. It also pushed our arrival in Tahiti to Thursday, rather than Wednesday, as originally expected. We debated what to do, as this is a situation in which we would normally consider putting up coloured sails: the cruising chute, or the rather daunting parasailor. The skipper is not convinced that we can manage these more high-maintenance numbers between the two of us – watch this space!

The grib files have been bafflingly off-beam on this trip. Yesterday, though, the wind seemed pretty much what was on the chart. There was also a suggestion that it would become lighter still as we came closer to Tahiti. We began to reconcile ourselves to a much slower journey, and a later arrival. As we weren’t sure what the wind was doing, though, we didn’t try any coloured sails, and we lived with the sedate pace for most of the day. We still had wind, though, and progress was steady – nothing like the long days of almost no wind during our crossing from the Galapagos.

During the late afternoon, the wind began to pick up again, first to around fifteen knots, and then up to twenty. Fantastic! We have been romping away ever since, making a steady seven to seven and a half knots. ‘Merlyn’ is slicing through the waves again – she couldn’t be happier. Our course is south-westerly, bypassing the Tuamotu islands – the direct route would have been straight through the middle of those scary atolls.

Once we reach our waypoint to the north of Tahiti, we will head almost due south to take us into Papeete, skirting around Tetiaroa island. It’s still two hundred and sixty-three miles to the waypoint – we’ve already covered three hundred and sixty-four miles. Once we turn south, we will still have around two hundred and twenty miles to go, making a total for the remainder of the trip of four hundred and eight-five miles. If we keep up this speed – a big assumption – we can get into Papeete at daybreak on Thursday, 10th April. If the wind drops slightly, then we’ll be arriving during the day on Thursday. There’s not too much chance of us missing Thursday – even if we had to motor the last stretch, we could still arrive by Thursday evening.

One of the things we learned during this sailing experience of over eleven thousand miles to date is that you have to accept the prevailing conditions. While that sounds obvious, it’s incredibly difficult to put into practice. We are used to a fast-paced world, and sailing takes us back to a time when things didn’t happen on demand. It is a huge benefit to have an engine which can both get you out of trouble, and compensate for peaks and troughs in the wind supply. In the past, that wasn’t the case, and ships would be stuck in Plymouth for weeks, waiting for an opportunity to sail up the Solent to Southampton. That’s hard to imagine in today’s world.

This reminds me of a boat we saw leaving the harbour in Nuku Hiva. It is a fifteen-foot catamaran, which is – we think – undertaking a circumnavigation. As there is no engine, the boat’s skipper has to sail 100% of the time, in what is little more than a dinghy. We watched him leave Taiohae Bay under sail, weaving between the other boats. How anyone can survive out on the ocean in a craft that small is beyond belief. There is no cabin or protection from the elements, and sleep has to be taken in very small amounts, lying on deck. The departure caused quite a stir locally, and the catamaran was escorted out to sea by some smaller boats. We’re not sure of his nationality, but we wish this brave sailor well.

We are also affected physically by the conditions – although less so than the catamaran’s skipper! Waiting for our ‘sea legs’ to come in  is a very familiar part of making passage. The difference is so marked. The obvious side of it is a lack of any queasiness, but there’s also a return of energy. In the first couple of days, everything seems a huge effort, and we have to muster all of our strength to deal with the boat’s rolling motion. Then, all of a sudden, we notice that it’s become easier, and that we’re shifting our weight from one foot to the other to compensate without even thinking about it.

The wind has a huge effect on crew morale. A drop in wind speed makes everyone on board feel sluggish and slow, whereas a good blow lifts our spirits and has us zapping about. We’re now moving into that ‘ready-for-anything’ mode, and it feels good. Having not felt like making too much effort to cook for the first couple of days, we’re now back in harness in the galley. We’ve made bread twice, we’re powering through our fruit supplies, and we had a delicious meal of spiced, barbecue mince last night.

The latter was a Nigella recipe which I adapted a little. It is a mixture of mince with tomatoes, onions, garlic, celery and carrots, spiced with Middle Easter flavours: cinnamon, Ras El Hanout, nutmeg, coriander, and a dash each of chilli and curry powder. A bit of sugar is needed to create the barbecued flavour. We really enjoyed it, and there’s enough for another day. I’m also going to make my favourite ‘Snickerdoodle’ cookies today. The grapefruit are presenting us with no problems – we are now up to one each a day! Our problem is bananas – we have them coming out of our ears. If anyone has any good – and simple – banana recipes, please email us. We are thinking banana bread, but any other ideas would be welcome.

We welcome the daily radio net – at 11 am local time. This is being run on this trip by the boat ‘American Spirit’. It is slightly embarrassing that almost everyone else seems to be going to the Tuamotus – we feel as if we’ve ‘wimped out’ on this one. On the other hand, our timings work so much better with a direct trip to Tahiti, which also t looks incredibly beautiful. We do wish all the other boats well, though, and we look forward to hearing reports of these beautiful coral islands.

It is a dark and cloudy night, and there’s no moon in evidence. Even so, we can see the stars very clearly. Our companion on this trip has been Venus. She is there every night in all her glory, coming into her own towards morning. In the early part of the night, her light is almost golden. Later on, as she becomes brighter, it is white, and she is surrounded by a corona of rays. Venus is every bit the ‘Star of Bethlehem’ you had printed on your carol sheet when you were at school. It’s gratifying to think that – in a very small way – we’re following in Captain Cook’s steps by observing Venus every night.

I write these blogs during my night watches – in between periods on deck, scanning the horizon for other boats (a rare sight out here). At the moment, I am tending to do the one am to five am watch, which means that I get the first long sleep, from nine pm to one am. The downside is that I don’t see the dawn, missing a daily treat. We still can’t decide whether it’s better to stick to fixed watches, so that our bodies can adapt, or whether it works best to vary things. During the day, we are very generous with each other about naps – this has meant that neither of us feels that we’re sleep-deprived.

It’s coming up to five am, and it’s time to rouse the skipper. All is well here on the good ship ‘Merlyn of Poole’, as we go into our fourth day at sea on this trip from Nuku Hiva to Tahiti.




Previous | Next