Leaving beautiful Hawaii was not as great a wrench and 'reality check' as it was on my previous three departures. For one thing, I knew we were returning to our home base in what we familiarly call "The Pacific Northwest" (… it's not really if you check a globe … it's truly the Pacific Northeast!) For another, we'd scheduled this trip as a 24-month hiatus from the Retirement Mecca of Victoria BC and we were going to be away for 25 months. So it was time to get back to our own 'reality'.
However - within a few days of leaving Hawaii Traversay was behaving as if she hated the prospect of returning 'home'. Even with fairly strong winds and the sails at optimum settings, it felt as if she was resenting our careful planning and was determined to be 'laggardly'. If you've ever maintained the forward position on a bicycle-built-for-two and have been pedalling your heart out, it felt exactly as if your partner in the rear was dragging their feet along the ground. I tried to explain it to the Captain using airplane terminology. I thought it was as if we'd instructed Trav to expedite 'flaps down', slats, spoilers and speed brakes but he quickly shot down my airplane terminology by insisting that only the speed brakes act directly to slow the airplane in flight - the flaps and slats are used for perfecting the arc of the wing to ALLOW the airplane to be flown more slowly for landing. Since he's a retired airline pilot I gave in far more reluctantly than I usually do when I tend to argue for the 'senses' rather than for the 'science'.
Larry suggested that a contrary current was acting against our forward progress, thus slowing us. But I decided that the many tropical organisms growing on our hull still remaining after his hull-cleaning expedition were fighting for their lives and the lives of their many progeny (barnacles, bryozoans etc) As we were leaving Hawaii, the temperature of the water was a lovely 26C (79F) and within days it had dropped to 14C (57F). If I were a Baby Barnacle (or even a Baby Human born in Hawaii) I would also have my siphons, spines, setae, flagellae, arms and legs out fighting any effort to transplant me to the Mainland!
It seems whenever I state a (to me obvious) conclusion about events as they appear out here in this vast landscape of waves and clouds I can be proven wrong. Yesterday we saw another ship! That in itself was an unusual and exciting event on this trip. A large Norwegian vessel carrying a large number of freight-bearing cranes on the superstructure appeared and stayed on the horizon. The world from our cockpit looks as if we're sitting in the middle of a soup-bowl with the horizon etched in a smooth line all around us like the edge of the bowl. As I watched the ship, it continued on along the horizon and seemed to pass directly south of us. I made the mistake of saying this to the Captain. He instantly assured me that the ship had not changed heading at all within the last hour. The Norwegians had been stolidly and steadily following a course of exactly 291 degrees for the entire time. I knew he could easily prove this to me so I (again) had to shut up. Oh those serious and sturdy Norwegians - how I love them - but why couldn't they bear me up just this once?!
The platform under our feet (the boat SOLE as "we who know the sea" call the FLOOR) has been very unsteady and un-floor-like. Even when we don't have large wind issues, left-over waves from somewhere across the broad Pacific have continued to bombard us. The Captain claims these are probably a result of turbulent weather coming down from Alaska. How good it is to charge the U.S. for our bad weather when normally we hear them blaming "cold weather coming down from Canada" in their broadcasts! At any rate, people have asked me if I practice my piano when we're offshore. I can categorically say "Never!" When we're heading into the wind, it is all we can manage to do our jobs. These include standing watch, cooking and dishes when it's our turn. We try to sleep as much as we can off-watch just to build up strength in case we need it in the heavy weather once it's our turn again. If a mechanical problem arises, Larry (who is the Technical Advisor) fixes it (I'm the Artistic Advisor but I have been known to choose exceptionally buoyant music - mostly favoring the Three Tenors to help the Captain keep his spirits up). I sometimes also assist by handing him the appropriate-sized tools. Of course, I also take over his watches and kitchen duties.
Whenever the motion seems to settle even a little we read books. We aim for gently amusing books (no emotional turmoil or murder, please). I find cookbooks and thinking about food a great solace and I often become overly excited about a recipe I want to try. Of course, recipe books seldom include emotion or murder (unless you count fishing and we don't!). I have built up a store of cook books to read during heavy weather. So yesterday with slightly gentler motion I made the Cherry Chipotle Pulled Chicken in my 'Great Big Pressure Cooker Cookbook' (Weinstein & Scarbrough p.246). It was a great success and I only had to make one substitution - dried cherries instead of the cherry jam which the recipe called for. It will be a great favorite with the grandkids when they come sailing with us. We can serve it in the cockpit - with lots of relishes and on big buns. They will eat it wearing their swimsuits and the entire area (including children) will be thoroughly hosed down with seawater afterwards. The problem is that I made too much Cherry Chipotle for two people so we'll now have to eat it on my next cooking day. I was looking forward to making 'Lamb Stew with East Indian Spices' p.225.
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At 2018-05-18 18:19 (utc) our position was 36°39.61'N 152°46.07'W
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