Position: 21 degrees, 21 minutes south; 155 degrees, 16 minutes west 112 nm (motored all night)

Today was one of those days that make you forget about the other ones. Blue sky, blue water, and warm weather. It would have been perfect with just a touch more wind. We’ve had about 6 knots of wind most of the day and are able to make about 3 knots boat speed out of that. Sometimes we stretch to 4 knots. We’re hoping for a tad more wind tomorrow, but nice to have calm conditions after chasing that low across the Southern Ocean. Now we’re in a high, so the air is more stable and we don’t worry (as much) about crazy squalls and stuff. We actually have no reefs in the main for the first time in over two weeks and we changed jibs to “the whomper”, our really big jib. The other nice thing about the change in weather – we have stowed the long underwear. We’re definitely in the tropics now, so have been all day in shorts, tee-shirt and flip flops. Nice.

Oh yeah, the green flash. This evening watching the sun go down I noticed the clarity around the horizon and said to Ann, “Watch for the green flash” (you’ll have to google the reason for this – too long to explain). She turned and we counted down, watched the sun dip and…blam, the biggest green flash either of us has seen. The sun disappeared and a second later this huge flash of fluorescent green lit up where the sun was. We were both so stunned we started cheering. A great end to a gorgeous day.

But wait, there’s more! Two hours later, the glow of the moon on the horizon announced an imminent appearance. Ann shouted, “Charisma time!” and I ran below to prepare our evening concoction. Got ’em done just in time to celebrate the moonrise with our favorite cocktail.

So, we’re 373 nm out of Papeete as of this writing. That’s the good news. The not as good is we’ve about used up our fuel and have light winds for at least the next four days, so if the wind dies, so does our speed. (We’re doing 2.3 knots right this moment). We might average 80 or so miles a day, so we’re still some days out. And, the wind looks to be heading us – meaning that at some point it may force us away from our destination. We’re trying to get “some easting” in right now and hope for the best.

It’s all part of sailing. At least it’s warm.

Evening. The sun has set. The remains of its warm glow have given way to the deep blue of the night. There is not a cloud in the sky, nor a whisper of wind. Nothing disturbs the horizon vying for our attention.

We are in a perfect, limitless amphitheater. The water’s smooth, gently undulating surface perfectly reflects the stars. The horizon is an indistinct blur vaguely suggesting a transition from sea to sky.

We feel as if we are floating on a sea of stars.

The moon boasting of its fullness tonight, rose with a gentle, golden glow. Higher now, it has turned an almost blinding platinum in the dark night. Only the most confident stars are visible beyond its glow. Below it, leads a shimmering path across the ocean. Perhaps leading to infinity on such a night, in such a place.

We can only feel honored and at the same time humbled in being here.

Postion: 22 degrees, 21 minutes south; 156 degrees, 44 minutes west 143 nm day (motor-sailing, no wind)

This afternoon, two bright white birds, looking for all the world like white doves appeared out of nowhere and flew around and around us – four, five, maybe six times as if there were bringing a message of peace-“We’re sorry, we didn’t mean to be so rough the other night”.

Thank you. We accept.

Position: 23 degrees, 40 minutes south; 158 degrees, 48 minutes west 67 nm day

Whew, thank goodness we got an easy day today. We’re both exhausted after last night’s events. This morning brought some unsettled looking weather (again), but it turned out pretty benign. All day, there has been little or no wind. We have been motoring since morning (it’s after dinner right now) and we expect we’ll continue to motor through tomorrow sometime, maybe even the next day. That’s probably getting pretty close to the extent of our fuel though, so we’re hoping the wind fills in for the final stretch. It should fill in from the south and then south east Thursday for a few days, so cross fingers.

This shows our planned route(s) versus actual. The "bottom" route was the original. The next higher was our modified for weather avoidance. The actual is shown by the triangle representing our boat and the dotted line behind it. Snarky weather and ENE wind are pushing us toward Tahiti instead of letting us go east to Tubuai...so we'll go where the wind lets us.

Oh, I don’t know if I mentioned we decided to just bypass Tubuai and go direct Tahiti at this point. We’re currently about 600 miles to go.

That and the beautiful almost full moon we see tonight for the first time in three or four days is about all the news for now.

P.S. Thanks to everyone for your comments. We enjoy ready them in the evenings. Some of you are either new or on new computers, so if you don’t see your comment, it’s because I have to “moderate” i.e. approve the post. I can’t do that until we get internet access in Tahiti and approve you. Once approved all your comments will go through with no further action required. Meanwhile we still are receiving them and enjoying them.

Position: 24 degrees, 13 minutes south; 159 degrees, 45 minutes west

…and rain and wind!! We won the trifecta.

Yesterday around 5PM local NZ time, we saw some lightning off in the distance, downwind of us. It seemed to be clearing where we were so I didn’t think too much of it until half an hour later I noticed the whole sky was rapidly clouding over and the lightning was getting closer. Holy cow!! It turned into the biggest lightning storm we have ever seen. For five hours we were trying to avoid cells by tracking on the radar and adjusting course. We sailed upwind hoping to get “above” the line, but there wasn’t a line, it just appeared everywhere at once and enveloped us. After an hour or two there was no-where we could go that there weren’t lightning bolts. At one point we sailed between two bolts that struck the water on either side of us. It wasn’t pretty. And it rained. Poured, actually. So hard and noisy you couldn’t hear yourself think.

Then, after five hours of insanity, suddenly the wind died down. I went forward to tighten the preventer and as I got back to the cockpit it quickly started building and by time I got to the helm to adjust our course (the wind changed direction about 90 degrees I think, it was all confusion by this time) and in ten seconds was blowing 40++ knots (at one point during a relative “lull”, I measured 43 knots at the deck with a hand held). The gale driven raindrops were like a thousand BB gun shots on your face. Charisma went crazy as I struggled to find a groove where she’d settle down. Fortunately we only had the third reef in the main and a little storm jib. I steered downwind to lessen the load on the rig, and we went surfing away. If the sail had been any bigger, we would have blown it out for sure. I have no idea how fast we were going as I couldn’t take my attention off the red glow of the compass for even a moment without risking careening out of control. After maybe ten minutes I realized this was no ordinary squall and it wasn’t going to blow out, so waited for a slight lull and threw the helm over to round up and (hopefully) get Charisma to heave to. We turned and heeled until the water was up to the cabin, but she came up and settled. A little. Problem at this point, she doesn’t really heave to with any kind of jib up. I had to go up to the bow and take the storm jib down. Took me a few minutes to psych myself up for that one, but finally left the relative safety of the cockpit. Yipes. The wind was blowing so hard it literally felt like it was going to lift me out of the boat. I crawled. 37 feet. One hand hold at a time. Finally with Ann’s expert help managing the lines, I got the jib down and secure and we spent the next roughly four hours riding it and wondering where the heck this beast came from?

Wow, what a night. Don’t want to E V E R do that again. Charisma did really well. We’re both a little shaken and just riding hove to in the early morning with the wind now around 10 knots, catching up on some sleep and cleaning up in anticipation of getting going in another hour to two after the morning net at 0715 local. Then we’ll do a boat inspection to check on any damage and see about moving on.

Position: 25 degrees, 57 minutes south; 159 degrees, 56 minutes west 76 nm

We didn’t get very far today. Last night was very windy and bumpy so we sailed quite conservatively. Then early this morning it really started to blow consistently into the 30’s. That’s too much for our stays’l, so we took it down and were going with just the main with three reefs. But, the waves had built rapidly into short, steep uncomfortable little moguls (or big moguls, they were in the 8 foot range). It just got too uncomfortable. It was getting very hard on Charisma, the rigging and the crew, so we hove to (again). Good thing too because it wasn’t long before it was howling. Fortunately we were quite comfortably stopped and just waiting it out.

Around 2PM local NZ time, I untied the helm and started sailing again. The wind is still gusting into the 30’s but the waves have settled a bit and we’re just chunking along at about 3 knots and not exactly in the right direction, but due north. It’s a small moral victory though ’cause at least we’re not just sitting.

Weather wise, it looks like our old friend “the biggest low on the planet” is still influencing our weather. It has thrown off a big front that curves up from its position – something like 600 miles southeast – over us and up through the Cook Islands and over to Tonga. Well over a thousand miles long. Anyway, it’s turned into an occluded front over us, which is when a cold front meets a warm front and they stop to play. Warm and cold air create convection – the air rises and becomes unstable – and there’s the recipe for crappy weather, which is what we have.

We’re hoping that the gribs are right when they show light and variable up north of us day after tomorrow. We just want to get out of this and any change will be welcome.

What this weather also means is that Ann and I are still wearing our long underwear all day and night. It definitely hasn’t warmed up at all yet. Hopefully now that we’re starting to trend north we’ll be getting into warmer weather. Another bath would be nice at this point too.

Position: 27 degrees, 05 minutes south; 160 degrees, 17 minutes west 112 nm today

The east wind has set in and has brought a front with it. Since breakfast, we’ve had a double reefed main and stays’l in 25 knots wind at about 55 degrees to the wind in 3-4 foot waves. Now it’s raining too and the wind has come up to the point I’m considering a third reef before I go off watch (we just finished dinner). These conditions look to be with us for the next two days, then I’m not sure. We’re near a fairly complex system that is throwing off all kinds of weather and it’s not really clear what we’ll get on Monday. The gribs are showing light and variable before a south wind seems to fill in. I’ll be another day or two before I get a good read on what we’ll get. For now, we’re just heading on. All day we’ve been pretty much glued to 058 True. That’s almost direct to Tubuai, although it won’t last. Somewhere in here we’re going to get some northerlies too.

Anyway, that’s our update for today. It’s too bumpy to type and hang on. 😉

Thanks to everyone for their comments. Really good morale boosting to read them just before we “set” the first night watch.

Stephanie Esposito and JHam: Thank you for your kind offers to help with the LED for the compass. It actually seems like JHam’s idea to yell at the gremlins has worked. The second LED has come back on line. My moving the broken insulation may have had something to do with it too, but I’m sure the yelling was the more important part.

So, I’ll wait on trying to order a replacement and see if when we’re at anchor I can make a more permanent fix to the insulation. Funny how it didn’t work when I actually worked on it, but two nights later. Oh well, I’m not complaining.

Position: 28 degrees, 15 minutes south; 161 degrees, 58 minutes west

I decided it was time that you heard from me since Bob has been doing such a great job of regaling you with all of the boat talk. Good stuff if you are a sailor, maybe a little too much if you are just following the journey. So I speak.

I was very worried about this passage. Bob knows I like to keep track of the passages by numbers so he made me agree to start with a 30-day passage so I wouldn’t get disappointed when it took longer than I hoped. I did the numbers and based on mileage, 30 days was overkill but I agreed. 30 it is.

The boisterous start to the trip did not bother me. I convinced myself that this could be endured. I knew my muscles would finally adjust, the sleep schedule would set in and I could do it. Then we hit day 5 and 6 (I think) where we were hove to in 35 knot howling winds. Closed up inside of Charisma felt safe but it made me a little seasick. Yuk. I was very pleased when we finally were underway again.

These last few days skirting across the top of the southern lows has been amazing. The huge gentle giant waves building behind us and sweeping under and in front of us are a sight to behold. Such majesty. Gentle enough to allow me to make some yogurt, cook up some bacon and make some delightful meals. Passage meals can get boring so it is great to be able to spice it up. Made the greatest smashed avocado, egg, cheese and bacon sandwich on Sockdolager muffins yesterday. I love being able to get something done. Oh, and I love reading . I have finished four books this trip and am halfway through a fifth.

We decided not to change our clocks with the time zones to keep things simple. What has happened as a result is that while we are thinking it is 5pm it is really about 8pm. As a result I sometimes miss the sunsets. On “our” clocks it is happening at 4pm, the end of my nap. I always miss the sunrise because that is Bob’s watch. I take the early evening watch from 8 or 9pm to 2 or 3am. I get the moon. The moon is straight up in the sky long before my watch starts and it keeps me company all night. Last night it set at 1am. I loved the Cheshire smile as the new moon rose. I love the golden glow as it fills and grows each night. It keeps me from feeling lonely on watch and is a fabulous flashlight. It should be full just before we get there. Last night as we had our Charismas at 5:30 “our” time, the moon was creating shadows with the mast and the sail. We turned off all of the interior lights and sat on our back porch watching the gentle giants build in the moon light and slide softly under us. The Southern Cross shines behind us and reminds us that we will miss it soon. We know we are experiencing something very unique and special. We are making mental photos and memories. No other way to catch all of this.

I am writing this today because I know in another day or two we will turn towards Tubuai as the headwinds hit. I won’t be loving it. I will try to pull on these memories of the past few days to comfort me north. Almost there…but I am not counting. Thirty is still a long way off.

Position: 28 degrees, 58 minutes south; 163 degrees, 51 minutes west 110 nm day

This voyage plan had two parts. The first was to “run” (broad reach) with the west winds along the top of the Roaring 40’s, between 30 south and 35 south, on the lows that march across the Southern Ocean. That part has worked out pretty well, except for getting a little too close to one of the lows that was stronger and came further north than expected. We’re been sailing downwind on course due east for a week and a half. Not bad.

Part Two of the voyage plan was to get to roughly 155 degrees west and turn “left” about 50 degrees and sail direct from there to our destination. Typically the westerlies run out about there and you “catch” a southeast wind from there up to Tubuai. We’re heading into part two of the plan in another day or two. Problem is, there’s an uncooperative weather system moving into place to squelch our plan. Just as we’re ready to turn the corner this system is going to bring us northeast winds. In other words, wind from exactly where we want to go. Since we can’t go straight into the wind, we’ll have to “tack” back and forth at about a 55 degree angle to each side of the course, in order to get there (with 55 degrees being the cruising version of “close hauled” in ocean conditions). So, the next few days will be interesting to see how this plays and out whether there’s a system on the “other” side of this one that will bring back some more favorable winds. For now, my available data such as weather faxes and gribs don’t go out far enough. So, we sail on and see what the weather will let us do just like sailors have done for centuries. Even with all the high tech stuff, some things don’t change.

By the way, if you want to see some of this stuff in “real time” and maybe even be a step ahead of what we can see, go to www.windyty.com. It is a pretty cool application that shows real time wind flow across the globe. Or, if you want to really waste some time, go to www.noaa.org and dig around and look for South Pacific weather charts. You’ll want the Surface Analysis, or 24 Hour Prog chart of the area of the ocean we’re in. These are essentially what I’m able to get via weather fax. It’s all about bandwidth.

Back on Charisma at dawn. The sun is stretching and yawning getting ready to meet the day. His orange glow gently nudging aside the stars and the night sky, sending them back to the other side of the world. Right on schedule, as the stars disappear, the morning squallies are marching down behind us. Fluffy, billowing white no doubt soon to bring our daily dose of early morning wind and rain.

It’s just another part of our day.