October 5, 2018
Noon Position: 35 33N 124 06W
Course/Speed: SSW 7
Wind: NNW 17-19
Sea: NNW 6
Sky: Mostly clear. Some thin cumulus
Bar: 1022 and falling
Cabin Degrees Fahrenheit: 68
Water Degrees Fahrenheit: 62
Percent Relative Humidity: 71
Sail: #1 genoa out full; one reef in main; wind on starboard quarter.
Noon-to-Noon Miles Made Good: 146 (Note: this is distance measured as a straight line from one noon position to the other.)
Avg. Miles/Day: 146
Miles since departure: 146
Well past the Farallones and on into the evening, the sea maintained the color of jade. As the stars winked on, so did the lights of jets climbing out of SFO, and all night Mo maneuvered between coastwise shipping as she edged further and further out.
By morning, all evidence of that other world, the world of the land, was gone. Now the sea was an ebullient blue and empty in all directions until met by a powder blue sky stacked with dry cumulus. Inside the horizon, nothing but water, wave, and wind, available, to the observer, in apparently infinite measure.
It is the most amazing thing about this world, the size of it, and that within a day’s sail one can be beyond all evidence of humanity. The vast majority of the planet surface is ocean, and nearly none of it knows the least thing about civilization.
Overnight Mo creamed along south under a full main and big genoa. Slowly, but steadily, the wind built. I woke once an hour to monitor passing ships–there were five on the scope at one point–and to worry about when I should take a reef, which I did not do until 3am with winds steady at 22 knots.
Reefing the big main with strong wind on the quarter takes care. With the sail pressed against the spreaders, the batten cars can foul in the lazy jacks and any slack in the halyard can allow the sail luff to snag the mast steps. I know this and yet committed both errors last night. How quickly one forgets.
To clear the luff from the steps, I had to roll up the big genoa and let Mo round up. No big. I had time. Sleep was difficult; better to work in the cool and the dark.
Much of today has been dedicated to killing sand flies, a great many of whom refuse to be blown away by strong northerlies. Many I had captured in a small hand vacuum, but when I climbed on deck and released them into the wind, they were not swept out to sea! To a one, they all flew back aboard. So much for charity. Now I’m killing them outright, when I can; they’ve grown wary.
Wind is steady at 25 knots this afternoon; still, it slowly builds. The big genoa is in. I have a double tuck in the #2 and two reefs in the main and we make better then 7 knots.
This article was syndicated from The Figure 8 Voyage