As of 1700 Zulu (or about 9AM San Francisco time) we crossed the equator. We now have a picture of the GPS reading 00 00S, 126 05 West. Woo Hoo! Ann and I are now Shellbacks. Here’s how the event unfolded.

Decorating Charisma for the crossing

This is it...

Crossing the equator with King Neptune...

...and his lovely Mermaid "Bobarina"...

...from Polliwogs to Shellbacks...

...fun and silliness abounds when Charisma crossed the equator.

Last night when it became clear we would get to the equator in the dark, we sailed to within 14 miles, hove to at about 0045 hours and went to sleep. Charisma happily stopped for the night in the middle of the Paciific Ocean for about 7 hours. We all needed some rest anyway. Ann woke up at first light and got me up with the promise of fresh coffee. We sat in the cockpit and watched the sunrise with a crescent moon right above it. Had some of Ann’s homemade yogurt with granola and a mystery fruit that tastes like mango. Then, Ann announced that it was time! We went down below and dressed in our crossing costumes. Took some effort to get me into my bra (made of a small fruit hammock). Besides that, I had a mermaid skirt decorated with balloons and a wig made out of some old three strand rope I donated to the cause. Ann, AKA King Neptune had black and white striped knee socks, a sweeping cape (made from the bathroom curtain), a lovely silver crown (OK, aluminum foil over cardboard) and a fearsome trident based on the boat hook. Oh, she also had a beard applied by me with menthol shaving crème. A sight to behold, no question. Ann also decorated Charisma and she was thrilled to be sporting balloons on her headstay, which she is still proudly wearing as she prances down the trades toward Hiva Oa. The first booby (a red-footed one) we’ve seen in days was impressed and circled us numerous times. I’m guessing he decided this did NOT look like a safe place to land.

Once suitably dressed we sailed the five or so miles we needed to cover to get to the equator, having drifted about six miles during the night while hove to. Upon reaching the vaunted line, we mixed a Charisma for Neptune, each took a sip, gave Charisma a sip and poured the rest to old Neptune in thanks for our grand adventure. That was about a mile from the line. Once at the line, we took a picture of the GPS reading 00 00S and popped the Champagne. It tasted mighty nice and complemented by smoked oysters and crackers, a veritable feast to celebrate our transition from lowly pollywogs to mighty Shellbacks. Some silliness and picture taking ensued. Finally, we set the sails, engaged the wind vane and are now heading 190 degrees in 10 knots of Easterly wind at almost six knots. We’re going to go more South for a day to get well out of the doldrum influence and then turn to 214 degrees direct Hiva Oa. 944 miles to go. Our only issue at this point is whether to sandbag or not and slow down. Our group of about 8-10 boats left pretty much at the same point, but all the other boats are 44-50 feet and I anticipated they would go much faster than we could. Turns out after 17 days, we’re well out in front and now they are started to claim that the first boat in must make cocktails for the rest. Hmmm. What to do?

P.S. We weren’t able to go swimming at the equator and there was too much wind. The “coulda, shoulda, woulda meter” said we should have done that about sixty miles back while in the doldrums. Oh well, there will be lots of swimming going forward and maybe a quiet moment one day during this final leg.

Position: 00 degrees, 25 minutes North; 125 degrees, 13 minutes West

We’re very near actually being in the SOUTH Pacific. After getting out of the ITCZ storm belt, we had some easy sailing as we headed another hundred miles or so toward the equator. Yesterday, we were on the edge of the doldrums. With only 3-6 knots of wind, we put up the spinnaker and had a nice long run from 1500 all through the night until about 0400 when the wind came up for a while and we were able to use the jib. It was amazing. We were steering about 190 degrees which had us aiming right at the Southern Cross. An amazing constellation. Since it’s right on the polar axis, it rotates through the night, but doesn’t move across the sky. It’s always due South. Anyway, sometime in the late morning the wind finally, completely quit. After all we’re in the doldrums. So for the first time in 16 days, we used the engine to move us forward and motored for about four hours to get through the lack of wind. About 1600 we were only about 60 miles from the equator and seemed to have entered the edge of the trade-winds. Since then we have had a nice 10 knots breeze from the East, very warm weather and nice long period swells out of the Southeast. Since we’re so close to the equator and it’s now dark, we have a double reef in the main and rolled up most of the jib to just slow us down. We’re just chunking along at about 2 knots and sometime in the early hours, when we get to within about 5 miles or so, I’m going to heave to, go to bed and just wait until morning, so we can enjoy the crossing in the daylight.

We’re also waiting for daylight since there are the requisite ceremonies that must be performed to help our transformations from pollywogs to shellbacks. I made the grevious mistake of letting Ann be in charge of costumes again. Thus, she is going to be King Neptune and I find out, I’m to be…a mermaid. When will I learn? Oh well, all in good fun. We’ll take pictures. We also have champagne being chilled, etc, etc. so tomorrow is a big day. Then on to the final push. We’re less than 1000 miles. Since all of this time will be in the trades, we’ll expect 100++ mile days which puts us in Hiva Oa sometime within the next (my guess) 7 to 9 days. We’ll see.

Oh, and the Tuna was most excellent.

Been a wild last four days, here’s some of the recap:

4/12-We’re doing 6 knots now under furled jib poled out to starboard and storm trysail. The main is sea-furled and lashed to the boom. Nice to be back a little more under control now, but even with this, we’re still hitting lots of 8’s and 9’s and even a few 10’s coming down the steep waves.

It got squally last night right after roll call. Charisma started surfing down the waves hitting 10 knots. Initially Wilson was doing a pretty good job of steering so I decided to leave the main up, since the alternative at that point was going up on deck at night in the squalls and waves to take down the main. I was hoping conditions wouldn’t deteriorate. Oops, they did. While my watch from 2200 to 0300 went OK, right about 0300 as Ann came on deck for her watch the squalls became much worse. I checked the radar to “see” what might be behind us and was rewarded with a picture of some big red blotches coming right at us. Red means heavy rain. Heavy rain out here also means lightning. Nice. We watched the red returns on the radar come towards us and then split, with one going to each side. Whew, dodged a bullet! Unfortunately the respite was short lived as just after the squalls passed, everything right, left, in front and behind went “red”. Squally weather had filled in everywhere and there was no more chance of avoidance. It had also gotten way too windy for even the double reefed main. Just too much force for the wind vane to manage. There’s just too much chance now for a major wipeout-we’d already taken a few little ones where we got a bit sideways coming down a wave. It was time to slow Charisma down. So at 0400 in shorts, tee shirt, flip flops (hey, we’re in the tropics) , harness and tether, I clipped into the jackline and made my way to the mast with Ann standing by on the mainsheet. It came down more easily than I thought it would and once furled and secured on the boom life seemed to get a little better on board now that Charisma had slowed to a more stately pace. Even though we had wind gusts to 35 knots, we now only had the equivalent of a couple of dinghy sails up, so I wasn’t so worried about the rig, or about wiping out on a steep wave. But, I didn’t know what still lay ahead. 4/13-It’s 1200 hours and we’ve already hove to twice. Once at 0600 and we’re hove to right now waiting out a big thunderstorm that’s right in front of us. Both times, the T-storms were so big there was no way to go around. We had to just stop Charisma and wait. Kind of nice actually after all the banging around of the last couple days to have an hour’s respite to relax and chill. The only downside is you’re not going anywhere, so that “1500 miles to go” doesn’t get any shorter.

It’s at this point with a new weather forecast in hand that I realized the ITCZ had” come up” to greet us. It moved a couple degrees North in the last 24 hours, so while we weren’t yet literally in it, we were in the “120 mile zone” that the forecasters said would see moderate to severe convection. “Convection” is such a mild word for what in reality means; “all hell will break loose”. Anyway, we’re well within the 120 mile zone, so for the first time in 13 days, we changed course. We jibed onto port tack and made a course of 170 degrees magnetic. Due South given the 09 degree deviation in this neck of the woods. Our goal; get through the ITCZ as fast as possible. Also the grib files were showing some promising weather on the other side of the ITCZ to help us get through the doldrums and down to the equator. I figured we’d use the radar to see the thunderstorms and sail around them on our way. Nothing could be much worse than the past couple days of squally weather. Right? Oops again.

We were still under a highly furled jib and storm trysail since the wind had not let up, the waves were still unnaturally steep for this area and we were anticipating some gusty weather. Thank goodness we kept the sails “small”. It didn’t take long before we were screaming downhill dodging squalls when one squall just ate us up. It enveloped us. No way out. We’re back to lightning and wind in the 20’s-30’s, but now also monsoonal rain. And it didn’t stop! Usually in trade-wind squally weather, you get something like this and it lasts for 15 minutes or so. This just went on and on and on. Finally I realized this wasn’t just a simple squall this time. This was our weather for the next 100 miles or so. After sitting in the cockpit for an hour or two watching this spectacle, I realized neither Ann nor I were dressed for this event. I just had shorts and a light nylon jacket (no shirt) and was getting chilled and Ann was due for her watch soon. We also hadn’t eaten in a while given the bumpy ride and the difficulty standing in the cabin, much less cooking. So again, for the third time in 24 hours we decided to heave to and wait things out a bit. So, we furled the jib, strapped in the trysail, set the helm to weather, locked it there and Charisma stopped and relaxed. It’s an amazing thing that you can do this in the middle of such weather, but nice to know. Gave us the chance to break out our foul weather gear (which had been stowed since we assumed we wouldn’t be using them in tropical weather. I also put on some thermal underwear as protection against chilling in the drenching rains) since this was going to be a very long night of storm chasing. Or was it BEING chased. I’m not sure. And we made dinner.

Ann and I have shared duties aboard. For the most part we split watches evenly and other shipboard stuff, but in heavy weather I handle the boat and she does support. In this case, that meant being extra help on deck in case of sail changes , but it also meant keeping coffee on the stove, hot food, and as it turns out plugging leaks. It rained so hard, we found leaks where I have never seen them before, like over several bunks that could soak the beds. So after dinner, I made my way to the cockpit for a long night managing the boat and Ann made sure we had hot food and drink, kept the leaks from soaking the bunks and monitored the radar looking for a path through the T-storms if one became available. It didn’t.

As soon as we started sailing again, there was an eerie lull in the storm. We were in the middle of some ugly looking clouds all around us, but the wind had subsided, and the seas got flatter. It was the last calm moment for the next 12 hours. Within 30 minutes the wind came up, we could start to hear the thunder and as darkness fell, see lightning all across the horizon. There was nowhere to go to avoid it, so I just steered our shortest course through; still due South toward the equator. Since the wind had lightened, I unfurled the jib to allow Charisma to keep up some speed to get through the zone, but now that night was falling, I could also feel and smell a change. The wind suddenly had dropped a good five degrees and there was an odd smell. Maybe ozone, I don’t know, but I knew we were about to get blasted, so quickly grabbed the furling line and pulled the jib down to its shortest usable furl, which is around 40%. Not a minute later we got hit by the first blast. The annenometer hit 25 knots and never went below it for at least the next two hours. Gusts went well into the 30’s. But the rain that started was unbelievable. Picture Charisma leaping forward in the darkness, rail in the water, small jib, and storm trysail pulling her along on a power reach at 6-8 knots in what were now flat seas due to the heavy rain. It just knocked all the waves flat. Then picture that water all around glowing from the volume of rain hitting so hard it was making the green phosphorescence from the plankton kick off. I’m just stunned by the sheer power of it all until jolted to reality by the lightning that was now above us, blinding me for 10-20 seconds with each bolt. The only thing I could see were the instruments and compass light right in front of my face. Thunder pounding on my ears. This finale of the past two days went on for about six hours and all we could do was ride it. By the time we came out the other side, I had only slept for about four hours in the past 48. The only things that kept me awake were Coffee, Red Bull and adrenaline, but as we sailed past the major squalls and left most of the lightning behind, I was seeing things and couldn’t keep awake any longer. Ann came up and drove through the last couple hours of darkness and the final squalls (including some lightning) so she had some time experiencing this storm first hand driving the boat (and she did great!)

So, ultimately I’ve sailed in more wind and larger seas, but have never seen such rain and lightning anywhere much less at sea. What I really liked was the storm trysail. This sail option is a great way to keep a short-handed boat under control in challenging conditions. I’m very glad to have rigged it and know we will use it again. The best part about it is how easy it was to hoist. It stays attached to the mast on its own track and we keep it rolled up in a sail bag, tied around the mast to keep out of the way. When I needed to put it up, I just dropped the main, swapped the halyard from the main to the trysail and attached the sheets, which were already rigged and tied off on the lifelines. Pull the halyard and you’re done. Even though Charisma was 100% prepared and I felt comfortable with how she handled in the winds and seas, I did feel some anxiety about the lightning. I was worrying about the unknown thought: “will the next one hit our mast and fry all the electronics or maybe blow out a through-hull?” I still don’t have the answer. I guess we were lucky since while most of the lightning stayed up in the clouds, each of us saw at least one bolt hit the water. Could have been us. That was what was really worrying me.

So, now that we’re past it, we are both in even more awe of nature’s power but also glad for the experience of a lifetime. After all, it’s not really an adventure if it’s easy.

Position: 01 degrees, 50 minutes North; 125 degrees, 40 minutes West

Our self portrait at 14 days out.

Well, the ITCZ “spit” us out the other side into a beautiful day. Sunny, warm, but not too much wind. We’ve been flying the spinnaker all day in about 5 knots of wind and making about 2.5-3 knots boat speed. At those speeds it’s very difficult to fly and way below the wind and speed needed to make the wind vane work, so it’s AutoBob on the helm. That’s my excuse today for not having time to really recount our amazing trip through the ITCZ and out the other side. We both feel as if we’ve been through Alice’s looking glass having ridden Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride.

As you can see from the position, we have about 110 miles to the equator which we could make in one day, but between the ITCZ and the equator are the doldrums, so we’re not likely to be making the speed for a one day passage. Some folks say the ITCZ encompasses both, but there’s a distinctively different weather model between them. The former being crazed lightning, wind, squall, rain kind of weather and the latter being no wind kind of weather and the forecasts treat them as separate events. That’s why we made the turn South when we did. It looked like the ITCZ would be “smaller” to cross there and it looked like there might be wind on the other side to get us across the equator. So far both are happening as we have been able to sail the whole time.

Anyway, likely we’ll make the equator on Tuesday. We’ll even slow the boat down if needed to make it during daylight so we can enjoy the spectacle. Oh yes, Ann’s working on costumes to celebrate moving from Pollywogs to Shellbacks and there WILL be hazing. Since she’s in charge, she gets to be King Neptune and I’m a Mermaid. Oh the shame. Anyway, at least we’ll have a nice bottle of Champagne which is already in the fridge to celebrate with and hopefully a swim.

Just before dinner, I went to pull in our fishing line and I guess the action was enough to excite a Tuna that must have been eyeing it because; Bam! Tuna on the line. Not a very big one, but it breaks a streak of no luck. We think it’s a Blackfin Tuna, but not sure. So, like good carnivores, we’ll eat it and see if it tastes good. The meat looks very mild though, so I’m optimistic.

That’s it for now. I really will try to get a more complete account ready tomorrow.

(Written 4/13, Posted 4/14 We are now largely through the ITCZ) One of our favorite fans commiserated with our lumpy night and then specifically asked how I was doing. So sweet. My feet hurt, my muscles are sore. All of my muscles are sore. And I have bruises everywhere! This all comes from trying to maintain your balance while doing all that you normally do in a day. Okay, so on a boat that is limited, but we still eat and do dishes and laundry and keep things cleaned up. Even Bob is surprised by the confused seas. And you should see this boat rock! I am going to enter a bull riding contest at Cadillac Ranch when we get back. I have all of the moves down. We call this the boat diet or core work out. I was doing some daily exercises a week ago when the waters were calm and I was in need of entertainment as Bob napped. Thank goodness I was somewhat in shape when we hit this area. It is amazing, this movement. To accomplish simple tasks you must now wedge yourself in from several angles to stay secure. With previously incurred bruises this hurts. And still Charisma will react to an odd swell and send you flying. Today I decided I was not giving in to it. For three days I have had a note to make some bread but passed because of the rolling. Today I fought for it. I lost the first batch of starter due to a lurch but the dough is rising and I fully intend to wedge myself by the stove for the full 55 minutes that the pressure cooker needs to cook it. If I don’t stand there it will get launched. I should not be complaining given what Bob accomplishes. I still find myself waking him 10% of the time. He says they are good questions and concerns and is always helpful. It happens whenever the conditions change drastically. Last night he took and extra- long watch due to squally weather. By 04:30 when he woke me up to take over he thought we were past most of the thunder and lightning. Alas, 2 hours into his sleep I had to wake him up and we then ran from lightning for two hours! The exciting news is that Bob has determined that we are well into the ITCZ (so maybe it won’t be much worse?). So Bob checked the weather faxes and wind files and we made the big move to turn south to head straight across it! I would tell you exactly where we are but the GPS is in the oven to protect it from lightning right now. But we are past the half-way point!!! Ignoring yesterday’s rocking and rolling we ended up with a great day. Hit the half-way point, had a nice clear late afternoon to enjoy a “Charisma” to celebrate and we were treated to the squall showers. The water temperature is perfect. Especially because the boat is hot, having to be kept closed up because of the waves. And after the net check-in we got to chat with two other boats and get fun blog responses. As Bob said, I went to sleep a happy girl. I can’t believe I am doing this and really enjoying it. Here on day 13 I can say that there have only been two days that weren’t fun. One of these happened to be the anniversary of my sister, Bev’s passing. I thought being way out here on this great adventure that she would have loved that I would be fine. The whole day seemed to fight me. From spilling some hot water on me first thing in the morning to locking my poop in the bathroom! Yes, that happened. Sometimes it is easier on the plumbing to just toss it overboard (right Cliff?). So I stepped out of the bathroom to get a paper towel to complete the task and somehow locked the door. Of course Bob was asleep. I spent a half hour trying different keys when I realized it’s an easy lock to pick. As I went to go into the bathroom the boat lurched and my hand got slammed in the door. Ouch. It was just going to be that kind of a day. I kept looking for dolphins or fish or something to just let me know it was okay, to no avail. But that night, as I finished dishes and went up to look around for traffic, the 100% overcast sky had parted to show the Big Dipper. The Big Dipper was an analogy my Mom used to show how important all seven of us children were. And there we were. Obviously God is on this trip too! So, after listening to me ramble you now know why Bob also is responsible for writing the blogs!

What an adventure. Through the tough days I remember the words of wisdom I received from previous Puddle Jumpers: “This will soon pass” and “It will be worth the price!”. I’m loving most of it!

(Written 4/13, Posted 4/14 We are now largely through the ITCZ)

Ann is happy the lightning and storms are over (so am I)

One of our favorite fans commiserated with our lumpy night and then specifically asked how I was doing. So sweet. My feet hurt, my muscles are sore. All of my muscles are sore. And I have bruises everywhere! This all comes from trying to maintain your balance while doing all that you normally do in a day. Okay, so on a boat that is limited, but we still eat and do dishes and laundry and keep things cleaned up. Even Bob is surprised by the confused seas. And you should see this boat rock! I am going to enter a bull riding contest at Cadillac Ranch when we get back. I have all of the moves down. We call this the boat diet or core work out. I was doing some daily exercises a week ago when the waters were calm and I was in need of entertainment as Bob napped. Thank goodness I was somewhat in shape when we hit this area. It is amazing, this movement. To accomplish simple tasks you must now wedge yourself in from several angles to stay secure. With previously incurred bruises this hurts. And still Charisma will react to an odd swell and send you flying. Today I decided I was not giving in to it. For three days I have had a note to make some bread but passed because of the rolling. Today I fought for it. I lost the first batch of starter due to a lurch but the dough is rising and I fully intend to wedge myself by the stove for the full 55 minutes that the pressure cooker needs to cook it. If I don’t stand there it will get launched. I should not be complaining given what Bob accomplishes. I still find myself waking him 10% of the time. He says they are good questions and concerns and is always helpful. It happens whenever the conditions change drastically. Last night he took and extra- long watch due to squally weather. By 04:30 when he woke me up to take over he thought we were past most of the thunder and lightning. Alas, 2 hours into his sleep I had to wake him up and we then ran from lightning for two hours! The exciting news is that Bob has determined that we are well into the ITCZ (so maybe it won’t be much worse?). So Bob checked the weather faxes and wind files and we made the big move to turn south to head straight across it! I would tell you exactly where we are but the GPS is in the oven to protect it from lightning right now. But we are past the half-way point!!! Ignoring yesterday’s rocking and rolling we ended up with a great day. Hit the half-way point, had a nice clear late afternoon to enjoy a “Charisma” to celebrate and we were treated to the squall showers. The water temperature is perfect. Especially because the boat is hot, having to be kept closed up because of the waves. And after the net check-in we got to chat with two other boats and get fun blog responses. As Bob said, I went to sleep a happy girl. I can’t believe I am doing this and really enjoying it. Here on day 13 I can say that there have only been two days that weren’t fun. One of these happened to be the anniversary of my sister, Bev’s passing. I thought being way out here on this great adventure that she would have loved that I would be fine. The whole day seemed to fight me. From spilling some hot water on me first thing in the morning to locking my poop in the bathroom! Yes, that happened. Sometimes it is easier on the plumbing to just toss it overboard (right Cliff?). So I stepped out of the bathroom to get a paper towel to complete the task and somehow locked the door. Of course Bob was asleep. I spent a half hour trying different keys when I realized it’s an easy lock to pick. As I went to go into the bathroom the boat lurched and my hand got slammed in the door. Ouch. It was just going to be that kind of a day. I kept looking for dolphins or fish or something to just let me know it was okay, to no avail. But that night, as I finished dishes and went up to look around for traffic, the 100% overcast sky had parted to show the Big Dipper. The Big Dipper was an analogy my Mom used to show how important all seven of us children were. And there we were. Obviously God is on this trip too! So, after listening to me ramble you now know why Bob also is responsible for writing the blogs!

What an adventure. Through the tough days I remember the words of wisdom I received from previous Puddle Jumpers: “This will soon pass” and “It will be worth the price!”. I’m loving most of it!

What a wild ride. More to come, this is just a quick note for now to say we came out the other side after an April 13 (Friday) that had more rain (as in Monsoon) and lightning than I have ever seen, or want to see from a boat again! Most of the ride was at night with no moon making the ride that much more dramatic. Wow!

We’re currently at 03 degrees, 05 minutes North, 125 degrees, 01 minutes West. Nice weather. I slept all day having not sleep more than a couple hours in the last 48 and Ann’s sleeping right now. Nice to have that behind us. Now, on the equator! We’re working on our costumes to celebrate the crossing and changing from pollywogs to shellbacks and have champagne chilling in the fridge. Expect to cross sometime Monday I think.

More later…

Position: 05 degrees, 58 minutes North; 123 degrees, 20 minutes West

A short post today as it’s too bumpy to type very well. Here’s the highlights: -Squalls for the last 20 hours hitting up to 35 knots. Rain, wind, more wind and 8-10 foot very short period seas. I estimate the period is no more than 8 seconds or so. It’s more like dropping down an elevator than surfing. -Got up at 0400 to drop the mainsail as we were regularly hitting 10 knots surfing down 8+ foot waves. Way too fast for the wind vane steering and just inviting a wipe-out -We’re now sailing under 50% furled jib (or thereabouts) and the storm trysail. With 15-20 knots of wind right now, we’re still hitting 6-8 knots down the seas, but with much less stress on the wine vane. Less anxiety on the Captain as well 😉 -Passed our “half way point” at 1800 local time (whoo hoo!) We celebrated with some smoked oysters with our Charismas before dinner. -Took “showers” in the rain squalls. It rains so hard, you just strip down in the cockpit and soap up. Brilliant and refreshing (and clean!) Must safer than going up to the foredeck in these conditions for the bucket bath/campshower routine. More fun too! -Spoke to friends on the radio net tonight. Everyone is surprised at the bouncy conditions and all are reporting on miscellaneous bruises and bumps as they are being thrown around the boats. That’s it for tonight, hopefully more time tomorrow.

4/10/11 (Not sure if this one posted correctly from yesterday so I’m sending it again, sorry if it’s redundant)

Position: 08 degrees, 36 minutes North; 119 degrees, 11 minutes South

We’re making good time and saw a 24 hour run of 155 nautical miles today. We’re consistently doing around 7 knots (I even saw 11 knots last night as we slid down a good size wave) but we’re paying for it a bit. The wind is up in the low twenties which is no big deal, but there is a very confused sea which is making life a little uncomfortable. Wilson can’t get the boat in a groove because just as we start sliding down a nice swell, a cross swell from a different direction bumps us sideways resulting in a huge roll first to one side, then the other, then back again. This process is almost constant since yesterday evening. It means you can’t stand, walk or otherwise do anything without either grabbing something with both hands or wedging yourself between two parts of the boat, or both in order to keep from flying across the cabin or cockpit. In fact, I’m sitting sideways on my bunk with my back against the wall and my feet firmly placed against the side of the cabin in order to write this.

By the way, we did pass 1000 miles today around 1230.

So, instead of Ann waking me this morning a little before sunrise for my morning watch, I was treated to a splash of water that came through the porthole on a particularly deep roll. Nice sunrise though. Lots of tradewind “puffies”, little cumulous clouds that have flat bottoms at about a thousand feet and rise about another thousand.

Saw a little lightning last night off in the distance. We’re nearing the ITCZ, which right now has been moving around between about 5 and 7 degrees North. Another day or so I imagine and we’ll be dealing with navigating a path through it and on to the equator. In the meantime, ITCZ means we’re going to start seeing squally weather with lightning, wind, rain, etc-oh wait, we’re already getting some of that. 😉

Ann has a cool new boat project; refuse reduction. Or more specifically refuse volume reduction. Organic and paper goes over the side, but plastics, foils and such have to be stored somewhere and our experience has been that they just take up valuable space. Ann has found that a pair of scissors does wonders. I’m sitting looking at a one gallon zip lock bag full of colorful looking bits of plastic that have been cut up. Mostly Fresca bottles (for our Charisma’s!) and juice boxes but when you cut them into one inch squares, they fit in about one tenth the space (maybe less). And they are kind of decorative too with all the pretty colors and shapes! (With the large ziplock bag half full I have “reduced” 5 plastic bags, 2 Fresca bottles, 6 snack wrappers,1 paper towel bag, 5 tea/hot chocolate wrappers, 1 box juice and the preformed lettuce box. Not bad!)

That’s about it for now. No fishing today. I had the line out this morning, then thought; “what the hell am I going to do in these waves if I catch something?” and brought the line back in. Oh, and no bath either. I was looking forward to a bucket bath, but it’s too rough out so I had to settle for a “handi-wipe” bath. Cooking suffers when it’s rough as well. Dinner’s going to be “basic box” tonight since it’s no fun cooking when the boat’s rolling through 60 degrees and you’re getting thrown around the galley (both Ann and I have bruises all over where we use parts of bodies as cushions while trying to keep the hands free for slicing and dicing and such). So, I’m going to sauté some green beans leftover from last night with some bacon bits Ann bought by mistake (the packaging looks like salad with all the pictures of lettuce on it) and the whole bunch is going to get dumped in a pot of Mac and Cheese. But it will taste really good, ’cause everything does out here. And we will be balancing this with our new favorite no lettuce salad – ¼ cubes of a jicama, carrot, green apple and mango. Splash this with the juice of half of a lime and we are scurvy free too!

Position: 07 degrees, 22 minutes North; 121 degrees, 30 minutes South

Wing and wing with the storm trysail. We're still doing 6-8 knots with this rig!

Charisma’s having a lot of fun here in the trade winds, but we’re suffering a bit (we’re hearing the same from others in the fleet on the radio too). It’s gusting into the mid-twenties, whitecaps -actually the tops of most of the waves blown off-are as far as you can see across the very blue sea. I spoke with one boat named Aka who was going wing and wing and broached, completely turned around and was going backward with the main on the preventer and jib on the pole. His boat is an older IOR boat, but he’s cruised extensively and said he’d never seen it happen before, and didn’t want to ever do it again! Wave heights are averaging around six feet, with the occasional ten footer towering above, to get our attention. While Charisma is kicking up her heels and dancing down waves at 8 knots and more, we’re getting slammed around the boat (more than usual). I’ve been trying to slow her down a bit, but we’re down to the double reefed main and the jib is furled about as far as it will go. She’s completely under control; just a wild ride. Wilson is doing an admirable job of keeping dead downwind in the large waves and ample wind. The next step if needed will be to take the main down and hoist the storm trysail. It’s already hanked on the mast on its own dedicated track and in a bag, so all I have to do is hoist it (after wrestling the main down).

Booby Project Discontinued

We want to thank those of you who contributed so thoughtfully to the Booby Guano Aphrodisiac project, but sadly it is being discontinued. Turns out that Booby Guano once harvested and destined for the mass market needs to be refrigerated. Field testing suggests applying cold booby guano has the opposite of the desired stimulating effect. Also, we’ve run out of boobies. We’re well beyond their range now. So, again thanks for you entries and we’ll note that Jerry is definitely the winner with his name;” Booby Blossoms”. Jerry, we’ll save you some of the test product as a prize.

On a more happy subject, we do think we have another idea for a product to keep us funded in our cruising. Flying Fish Mobiles. There’s tons of ’em on the deck every morning. We just dry them and mount them. We’re working on the smell thing…. They will be great entertainment for your cat!

Last night So, it’s dark, around 0100. The moon’s not up yet. The waves are so big, I can hear the bigger ones coming up behind us even though I can’t see them. Then suddenly, in the blackness, the top of the wave explodes just behind us in a phosphorescent, eerie, white glow, breaking to either side of us with an almost deafening roar; white water boiling off the top of the wave, expending itself trying to get into the cockpit where I sit just watching and waiting for the one that might make it aboard.

Around all this, 360 degrees of crystal clear starlight, many old friends from previous passages winking at me, welcoming. But on the far horizon, to the South where we’re headed across the equator, distant lightning flickers in the night sky. Neptune is whispering off in the distance; “Prepare yourselves Pollywogs, it won’t be easy”.

We’re at 07 degrees 32 minutes right now as I write this. According to weather reports the Intertropical Convergence Zone (ITCZ) begins from anywhere around 4 to 5 degrees. This is where the powerful tradewinds from the Northern hemisphere meet the trades from the Southern hemisphere. Unpredictable weather awaits often including squalls and lightning. Since we’re not going due South, but approaching the equator from an angle (course of 220 magnetic), we actually have about 360 miles or two to three days before we get there.