This section encompasses a collection of stories and
passage notes written while underway during the first leg of Voyage
Two of Pacific Bliss, the 3252 nautical mile passage from San
Diego, California to Atuona Harbor in the island of Hiva Oa, Marquesas,
French Polynesia.
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April 13, 2002, 0200
7°22.7'S, 137°23.9'W
Flying.
We're flying tonight. One reef in the main and one in the jib, but
we are
still doing 7-9 knots in a wind coming from the east, varying from 15-20
knots.
About ½ hour before coming on this last night of dogwatch, I
dreamed that we
were--in fact--flying!
We were in a pretty good-sized aircraft. Gunter was at the controls
as the
head pilot. I was seated next to him. The occasional jerks and errant
waves
had been transformed into air pockets, the kind you feel, but become
gradually
accustomed to, on passenger jets in a rainstorm. And, yes, it is raining--for
the fourth time in the last 24 hours.
In the dream, Gunter was seated there, watching the instrument panel.
I said,
"This is fine, but do you know how to land?"
"No," he said. "I'll have to study the manual and figure
it out, but we've got
time."
(Manuals had come out a lot on Pacific Bliss, and we always
learned new things
while attempting to solve some problem on board.)
"But you need practice," I remonstrated. Just then the rain
hit, and I was
awake, closing the window on the cockpit side of our cabin that we usually
leave open for airflow.
It is amazing how smooth Pacific Bliss can ride the waves on
a beam reach, even
in a rainstorm. The rain stopped after thirty minutes or so, but the
winds
have continued at 15-20 knots. This night we will make good time. I
am glad,
because landfall is now only 165 nautical miles away. We have been at
sea for
twenty days.
Yesterday had been a fairly typical, somewhat lazy, day on board. Gunter
studied manuals and made TO DO lists consisting of repairs and maintenance
to
be done on Pacific Bliss, who has taken us nonstop over 3000
nautical miles so
far. I tackled a manual of my own: the Nikon 995. I finally devised
a
computerized filing/numbering system that can encompass all of the thousands
of
photos of our circumnavigation. Then I downloaded and organized all
5 compact
flash media cards--full of photos--and backed up the photos on to compact
disks. It had been an all-day project. I rewarded myself with a shower,
including washing my hair, on the swim platform. Clean and refreshed,
I began
reading a new book, "Sailing to the Reefs," by Bernard Montessier,
a famous
French single-handler, who lost two boats on the reefs.
Doug single-handed dinner last night: grilled chicken with pepper sauce,
peas,
and mashed sweet potatoes with feta cheese and butter. Hmm! We discussed
how it
would feel to finally spot land. We kidded around about how we would
miss our
watches. Armin said that we could always assign anchor and dinghy watches.
I
talked about how, during restless nights at anchor, we could always
get up and
sit at the helm seat to watch the stars.
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