You can probably imagine the levels of disappointment, anguish and trepidation we were feeling as we left the pass at Tarawa in our wake. Another week at sea to Majuro may not seem like that long when you are getting food, rest and all the water you want, but it was a very long time for two weary sailors scooping the dregs out of the water tanks. But a failed transmission left us no choice but to head back out into a storm besieged ocean and another 6 days of filtering, dozing and trying to fix things that break.
In hind sight (wouldn’t it be nice if we had more fore and less hind), if we had entered the pass at Tarawa (Kiribati) and then lost our engine, it would likely have been a disaster of epic proportions. A boat friend who was in the Tarawa lagoon at the time told us that just inside the pass the waves had worked up serious altitude with the wind coming directly from the anchorage and a zig zagging sailing course would have made it impossible to avoid the coral heads (boat eaters) in the dark. Even if we had made it to the anchorage, there were no facilities to fix our mechanical problems and being located in the cyclone zone would be no place for a disabled boat. But I digress.
In hind sight (wouldn’t it be nice if we had more fore and less hind), if we had entered the pass at Tarawa (Kiribati) and then lost our engine, it would likely have been a disaster of epic proportions. A boat friend who was in the Tarawa lagoon at the time told us that just inside the pass the waves had worked up serious altitude with the wind coming directly from the anchorage and a zig zagging sailing course would have made it impossible to avoid the coral heads (boat eaters) in the dark. Even if we had made it to the anchorage, there were no facilities to fix our mechanical problems and being located in the cyclone zone would be no place for a disabled boat. But I digress.
Our journey was not without the wonder of sailing in a vast ocean. Being out here is a privilege and I don’t ever want to forget that, problems or not. Even the fury of a storm has an awesome beauty (when I get past my fear).
Dois spent a lot of time over the next week trying to find a leak he could fix but finally came to believe it was beyond his MacGyver abilities. It was likely the main seal between the engine and the trans and there was nothing to be done about it. Having no engine for getting into Majuro in the Marshall Islands weighed heavy on us but it is still sailboat and we were determined to make the best of the situation. All we could do was pray for an end to this nasty weather before we entered the atoll.
Ashika had crossed the equator just before Tarawa, so we were well into the area known as the doldrums; infamous for its unstable weather. This time of year was one when the cyclone season to the south was just starting up and the hurricane season to the north was just ending and we were in the middle of the confusion left behind. The wind was often light or non-existent in lumpy seas until a squall line would run over us and the tempest would scare me half to death. I think for the most part, Dois loved it because he’d much rather have wind than not.
Dois spent a lot of time over the next week trying to find a leak he could fix but finally came to believe it was beyond his MacGyver abilities. It was likely the main seal between the engine and the trans and there was nothing to be done about it. Having no engine for getting into Majuro in the Marshall Islands weighed heavy on us but it is still sailboat and we were determined to make the best of the situation. All we could do was pray for an end to this nasty weather before we entered the atoll.
Ashika had crossed the equator just before Tarawa, so we were well into the area known as the doldrums; infamous for its unstable weather. This time of year was one when the cyclone season to the south was just starting up and the hurricane season to the north was just ending and we were in the middle of the confusion left behind. The wind was often light or non-existent in lumpy seas until a squall line would run over us and the tempest would scare me half to death. I think for the most part, Dois loved it because he’d much rather have wind than not.
The moon and stars lit the way nicely whenever the veil of storm clouds pulled back, but when squalls found us at night the only thing you could see was the orange glow of the wind meter and the noise was like a freight train rolling into the station. Ashika would heel over and the howling winds would grow from 20 to 25 then 30, 35 and often reaching 40 plus. One night we clocked the boat speed at over 10 knots, (our average speed is half that) and only because we looked at the speedo, most of the time we were too busy handling the boat to glance at our speed. The storm would pass, pilfering any wind with it. We were left rolling rail to rail, sails slamming noisily, threatening unforeseen damage. We chose this time to travel this route in hopes that it might be less difficult and who knows, maybe it was. Our storm survival manual (written by me and Dois, so don’t go looking this up) was a few simple rules; 1.) Turn the boat downwind to absorb speed. 2.) Don’t panic and 3.) Peeing your pants is ok, the wind and water will wash it away quickly.
One particularly dark night we were hit by a squall with winds coming from a direction that caught us Completely off guard and the preventer wasn't attached properly to stop a jibe. The boom ripped across the back end of our cozy sauna immediately changing the helm to shower stall, a place not protected from rain or wind. Another particularly vengeful squall had its way with our dinghy davits. They support our largest solar panel and when Dois heard something he looked over his shoulder to see the panel flying high, like a giant wing about to take flight. He jumped into action, grabbed the panel from the arms of Neptune while hanging onto the dinghy with his teeth. My captain; the amazing Dois.
Thank goodness we bought a boat with two heads (bathrooms). Now we had a new home for the dislodged solar panel to live. Due to the lack of sun in the forward head, our journey had a few more complications. The relocated panel supplies about 30 to 40 percent of our electrical needs, so the fridge struggled and all our frozen foods thawed and the iPad competed with the Inreach and the chartplotter for power.
The last two nights of this voyage were besieged by one long storm and we were tossed like a Mexican jumping bean. Sleep was illusive and fatigue was our worst enemy and these 48 hours are mostly a blur. We struggled to rest up for our sail into the lagoon at Majuro.
Thank goodness we bought a boat with two heads (bathrooms). Now we had a new home for the dislodged solar panel to live. Due to the lack of sun in the forward head, our journey had a few more complications. The relocated panel supplies about 30 to 40 percent of our electrical needs, so the fridge struggled and all our frozen foods thawed and the iPad competed with the Inreach and the chartplotter for power.
The last two nights of this voyage were besieged by one long storm and we were tossed like a Mexican jumping bean. Sleep was illusive and fatigue was our worst enemy and these 48 hours are mostly a blur. We struggled to rest up for our sail into the lagoon at Majuro.
Don't miss the final installment of the journey to the Marshall Islands, coming soon to a blog near you: Hard on the Wind in Majuro - Part 3
My book recommendation is: The Fragile Edge by Julia Whitty. From Barnes and Noble: ...a quietly ambitious, if sometimes meandering, book. Are you up for tales of microscopic dinoflagellates? Interested in how the ancient Indian philosophy of Jainism may affect your interpretation of light playing off a lagoon? And don't be misled by the “hot girl swimming with a dolphin” ...
Me: Its a book about the South Pacific from the ocean floor up and I keep going back to it to read passages again and again. This is an ocean lover's book and it does have meandering parts that I skipped.
Me: Its a book about the South Pacific from the ocean floor up and I keep going back to it to read passages again and again. This is an ocean lover's book and it does have meandering parts that I skipped.