Not Too Hot, Not Too Cold, Just Righhhhhttttttt…… ahhh
or in sailing terms: Not Enough Wind, Too Much Wind, and Just Righhhhttttt……
About 9 days ago, the winds were light and the ocean almost completely flat, just an almost unperceivable deep slow southern swell would slowly rise and lower the boat as we slowly made our way sedately towards Hawaii.
The geographic spread between isobaric lines on the weather chart resembled a topographical map of the prairies – no gradient. The boat slowly rocked from side to side, and each noise could be easily accounted for. The clink of the coffee cups in the cupboard, the whoop of the sail lethargically filling and emptying, the dull thud as the spare anchor moved on its mount, slow trickle of water moving past the hull.
Crew members spend many hours napping in their warm beds and cups of tea helped keep the watch-keeper alive in the sub-arctic temperatures above decks. Life was relaxing and good but we are going nowhere at a snail’s pace. About 5 days ago, our new weather chart mimicked the spectacular fjords of Scandinavia, the isobaric lines were so close together they were almost touching – the North Pacific high has dropped south, and the remnants of tropical cyclone Celia (with wind-speeds of 140kts !) had continued moving north and little ol’ Khulula sat directly in-between, perfectly positioned for the squash zone.
Our first warning was the rapidly increasing swell and the appearance of more and more white caps. For the next two days, we had 12 – 15 ft seas at a whooping 6 secs creating steep dangerous wavefronts, while the wind gusted to 40 knt range and we were constant at the helm ensuring we did not crash gybe while sailing down-wind. Those delicious faint noises were replaced by a cacophony LOUD ANGRY blasts of sleep preventing noise. The shaking vibration as we surfed down waves would could body organs loose, the stomach wrenching lunges as we were thrown from side to side had inattentive crew being thrown across the cabin, the howl of the wind through the rigging and the loud BANG as the main slammed into place stopped all but the most determined sleepers.
We dropped the entire main sail, and we just kept moving on 1/2 of our 105 jib. Crew hid in their bunks now, trying to feign sleep, dreading their shifts and turn to keep the boat from sliding into serious trouble. About 2 days ago, the wind dropped to a fantastic 15 – 20 knots from behind us, the seas calmed down to the point were we are sliding directly towards Hawaii and the boat has flattened out to beyond a comfortable level. Time is divided between drying foul weather gear, push-ups on the foredeck, music changes, meal planning and book reading.
The noises have died down to a level were one can wake at night and falls back to sleep smiling. We are cruising along at 6 knots, crew are happily chatting and talking the biggest load of nonsensical junk as ever heard on the seven seas. Nights are filled with bright stars, tropical temperatures and mint tea (and the occasional fresh water squall).
Ahhh…. sailing. Hawaii calls us…