Clear skies, steady 10-15 knot winds. We have found the southeast tradewind expressway. We are heading west trying to get out of the lumpy mashed tater zone where the Humboldt and Panama current come together. Once we are out of here, the ride should smooth out a bit. We had a smoking 24 hour period. Broke 150 miles in 24 hours. Also broke our spinnaker last night. A big ol' nice rip down the front of it. Not even 48 hours out and we already are in need of an at-sea repair. Better than an at-sea dental extraction though. Old man Tristan Jones says to stick your head out a porthole, reach around through a hatch with some pliers and as the boat heels the tooth will rip on out. He also recommends having an ample supply of hooch handy, which of course we do but hoping it won't ever come to that. Luckily we have another spinnaker. Its smaller and heavier and is ideal for the steady trades. We were just too lazy to mess with it because we have never flown it. We have been able to hold 6-7 knots all day. A 30-day run to the Marquesas is based on a 4-knot average, so we are looking good. Of course, still have about 2700 more miles to go! Its a balance between making good time and not overworking the rig. Its pretty hard work on a boat to sail 24 hours a day for days and days at the interface of salt, sun, wind, and water. Lines chafe, sails rip, shackles unshackle themselves. So we are trying to keep our eyes open for any potential problems. The rigging is solid. This we know because we just replaced it in Panama. We have a pretty beefy stick on this thing. They tended to overbuild things back in the late 60's and 70's when fiber glass was just coming out onto the scene. The plastic classics. After that, a rise in petroleum sent boat yards skimping on hull thickness. The people who built this here machine intended it for some beefy stuff. It is a bit light and sensitive to weather, but its solid mast goes through the boat and adheres to the keel instead of just the deck, and the chainplates where the rigging attaches to comes down to the keel as well via stout metal rods. Its truly a trip to live inside the bowels of one of these things. Put the sails up and she does all the work.
We have the light of the moon with us which is ideal. It will be udderly full in just a few days. Great for seeing the sails at night. The southern cross in the southern sky welcomes us to the southern hemisphere. We can no longer see the North star and the Big Dipper is low in the northern sky. Orion sets pretty early in the night and as it beds down, the large beautiful constellation of Scorpio rises into the sky. Magnificent. On the trip to the Galapagos, we were able to see Venus, Mars, Saturn mingling with the Gemini twins, and then Jupiter, perhaps the brightest orb in the sky. With the moon up, hard to see much detail, although I imagine the Martians and Venusians and the star ship troopers are all still there watching down on us silly humans.
@T=The sun is setting, no land in sight, what little wind there is fills our spinnaker and we have already chipped away 100 miles. Only 2900 more to go to the Marquesas! Its like the cats from Swingers who were so excited 'bout VEGAS!. Give us a couple of days, nights, weeks, and it will be vegas. Big swell from the side knocks what little wind there is out from our sails making for a somewhat rocky ride. We are aiming more south than west in hopes of joining up with the trade wind highways. We are 2 degrees south of the equator and shouldn't have much more to go before we can start heading in a more westerly direction. Luckily, it won't take much to get this ol' pony rolling, and we are expecting big things from our cramped sports car. We are already betting on 25 days or less to the Marquesas.
We brought along a bit of a hangover-damn cruisers, don't they have jobs-so we really haven't been enjoying the rolly coaster ride. Last night we pulled 4 hour watches instead of our typical 6. It will take us a few days before our bodies get accustomed to the schedule. Many boats pull 3 hour watches, but we like larger chunks of sleep. Of course, that meant falling asleep in the shipping lanes off rocky coasts, but out here in the barrens, I don't think we'll have to worry about that. This is perhaps one of the longest trade wind voyages between landfalls. But its supposed to be one of the easiest with nice steady winds and less squalls, and most boats will never see any shipping traffic; we'll keep ya posted. My mom couldn't believe there weren't any islands between the Galapagos and the Marquesas..."there must be some uncharted ones"....but alas, there's just water. We have heard of some very large factory boats just outside the economic exclusive zone 200 miles out from the Galapagos so that should be slightly entertaining. I think they are Japanese or Korean boats fishing for squid.
We sadly leave the Galapagos behind. Isabela island was a real gem. We mooched one last fresh water shower from our friends in town and left before the fishermen's strike made any trouble for us leaving port. June 1st is pepino (sea cucumber) season, a Japanese market that fetches up to $18 a pound. A friend described sea cucumber as a gritty booger. But for the Japanese, it probably makes their loins growl or something like that. In just a few years, the population has dropped dramatically so the National Park wants to the boats to check in with an inspector everyday so he/she can count of the lil boogers. This means the fishermen have to burn a couple hours of fuel everyday to meet up with the inspectors. The park certainly has a surplus of money. If they can afford helicopters that gun down wild goat in hopes of eradicating the goats who are eating up the native animals certainly they could afford some boats for the inspectors to drive around in. We met this fantastic man, Matias, who is a dive guide in the Galapagos. He is training fishermen to be dive masters in hopes that they will preserve the resources as well as make a living off them. The fishermen foolishly gooble up the fish, as most fishermen do, and at the expense of their health. At least 30 fishermen will make the costly trip to the decompression chamber on Santa Cruz island this season. They spend hours and hours at depths of 60 feet or greater attached to a hooka and consequently get the bends. Most of them know better, but they have to fish deeper and deeper as the individuals in shallower water disappear. Interesting fishstix politics. When we left, the strike had been going on for 3 days. Its all very mellow really, and they seemed to be enjoying themselves by drinking beer all day. They are expecting such big payoffs that they drink up their paychecks before they even make them. Just like a fisherman.
Thus ends day 1 of As the Prop Turns.@