My first long passage

--> Well that was unexpected! So focused was I in leaving Panama and starting our Pacific crossing that I never spared a thought for our impending sail to Galapagos. When on a test sail to ensure the gearbox was indeed fixed we just decided to keep on going rather than re-anchor. So it was with spontaneity that we headed into my first long passage that would see us under sail for more than a week.

Seasickness is always at the forefront of my mind when we are underway, so keen to keep it at bay but as we hadn't planned to leave when we did, I hadn't taken any of the medication I had obsessively stocked up on when back in the UK. Needn't have worried as I felt absolutely fine for the duration of the passage, able to read down below and even bake a cake when I fancied. Perhaps it was the flat seas and winds on the beam (when we had wind!) that owed to my wellbeing but I like to think that I have succeeded in banishing the 3 day, feeling like death, phase from my life forever. Dylan's Father did tell us that the Pacific Ocean was exactly that, the 'passive' ocean...I tend to agree from what we have seen so far.

The first couple of days saw us blasting out of the gulf of Panama at 7 knots with the current and wind behind us and very few sail changes. We used this as the settling in phase, trying to establish a routine for life underway and get enough sleep to not be totally useless. I'd say about 3 days in we had the routine down and started relaxing into what we thought would be a 7-10 day crossing. Hmmm Mother Nature had other plans but Dylan covered that in his other blog post so I'll leave it there. Suffice to say I shall never scoff at a 3 knot average again!

For those of you interested in what on earth we did for 13 days at sea with no land to break up the journey, here's a glimpse:

5 – 9am: I am asleep in the v berth whilst Dylan is on watch. This usually meant huddled under a beach towel lying in the cockpit with the egg timer on a 15 minute timer to ensure a look out was undertaken 4 times an hour. We would check whether there were any lights near us (other ships), our course and the wind strength and direction, adjusting as necessary.

9am: I wake up and whilst making breakfast (fruit and yoghurt), we both listen to the SSB net for any boats we know that may be near us. Unfortunately on this trip it included a good deal of moaning that boats were overtaking us with their motor on for days whilst we bobbed about in a dead zone. Oh and we also do our 3 hourly log entry in the logbook.

9 – 12pm: Reading, teaching myself to play the guitar, chores (I made a sunbrella cover for the dinghy gas tank and Dylan took all the varnish off the toe rail).

12pm: Noon reading. We would do the usual log entry and then determine how many miles we had sailed in the past 24 hours. We play the guessing game of “how many miles have we done” before we tally.

1pm: Lunch. Due to the obscene amount of cream cheese I seemed to have accumulated in the fridge, I think we ate cream cheese and crackers each day for the full 13 days so it wasn't exactly a time intensive task.

Afternoon: More reading, watching movies, chores, baking, snoozing and snacking. I soon realised that I had been living with a closet sugar monster for the past 4 years and took drastic action by hiding many of our biscuits and sweets for fear that we would have none left by the time we got to the Galapagos! As we speak Dylan has found the jelly beans and thinking he got away with it, sat devouring them in the cockpit. Ha he will have to do better than that.

3pm: Log reading.

6pm: Log reading and perhaps a glass of wine with dinner.

8pm: Dylan goes to bed and I stay on watch.

11pm: Watch change.

2am: Watch change.

5am: Watch change.

Rinse and repeat...

When in the Caribbean and doing day hops to islands, I would think of the first long passage we would have to do and it would fill me with dread. Other yachties would assure me that it got better but I was extremely dubious. As a comparison though, the hops in the Caribbean would almost always mean a 30+ mile slog to windward with significant swells and a hell of a lot of roll. Not knowing any different I just imagined the Pacific passages in those conditions but the duration multiplied by 30. How wrong I was. I never thought I would say this and Dylan don't you dare say “I told you so” but I'm actually finding these longer passages...ENJOYABLE...*gasp*. Being at sea with nothing around you for miles and relying totally on the boat and the provisions on board is so...satisfying. The nature we have already seen on this trip is breathtaking. We've had whales come to say hello, dolphins dance in our bow waves, birds hovering over us, fish looking like comets in the phosphorescent waves at night and even once becalmed, a turtle came to kiss our hull before the current sent him on his way. These experiences you just would never find anywhere else and we feel incredibly lucky to be witnessing them.

Dylan has fond memories of his Mom baking bread every other day and he has strongly hinted... OK more urged...that I do the same. There is enough flour on board to supply Hovis bread factory for a year so there really was no excuse. So how many times did I bake a loaf? Once. Perhaps that was due to our need to devour the cream cheese supply before it went off, who knows, but don't worry, he certainly didn't miss out, I fed him pizzas, herby bread (dutch oven style fat pancake - thanks Vicki), lemon drizzle cake and pancakes instead. All home made of course and made so much easier by the inventory I knocked up prior to departure, telling me where everything was stored. We look forward to dropping anchor so we can shed the ring of blubber that is developing around our waists and under our chins.

Before anyone gets the wrong idea though, I am still all about the destination not the journey on this trip, and I certainly would not call myself a sailor. However rather than a feeling of trepidation for the imminent 30 day passage to the Marquesas, I am now rather looking forward to it!