St. Helena to French Guiana - Days 3-5

on the way to fr. guiana

Day 3  

Miles to go: 2,933 nm (under 3,000 nm already)

2 flying fish

A much better night watch...no rain and the seas have begun to calm. No moon and no stars make for a claustrophobic watch. The only light in the sky was the tricolor on the masthead. The dark closes in on you when there's no horizon for reference. It's like a fast ride in the dark at an amusement park when you lose all sense of space and direction.

There is a new screechy- squeak that we hear from time to time below that's akin to fingernails scraping on a chalkboard. It's hard to ferret out exactly where it's coming from, but we think it's the staysail fair lead block. There's still lots of dust and dirt from Luderitz responsible for several annoying noises aboard. We plan to investigate further today as it drove both of us nuts during our sleep time.

We're planning on 30 days to reach French Guiana. A long passage for sure, but much shorter than heading up to the States like last time. We're making good time now, but once in the doldrums crossing the equator, it'll be slow, slow going. David checked out the location of the ITCZ which migrates north and south with the seasons. Hopefully, we'll cross into the northern hemisphere at its narrowest point.

On his morning deck tour, David discovered two fat flying fish in the scuppers...the first two of the passage. We think we attracted more night sea critters when we used bow and stern nav lights at night instead of the tricolor on the mast. Our all-time record was about 23 one morning on this same passage in 2007. We'll have to go some to beat that record.

Day 4

Miles to go: 2,817

A nondescript night watch. We're getting into the sched now...sleeping when we should, and awake the rest of the time. It always takes 3-4 days for our bodies to adjust, and then remarkably, they do. Some folks imagine that night watches are really difficult, but in actuality, after a few days, it's pretty easy. It's a time for thought and contemplation. Don't get me wrong though...a full night's sleep next to my captain trumps night watch any day.

An odd sunrise this morning. I actually saw the "crack" of dawn. The sky was still thick with night and a thin slit, bright and dazzling, appeared just above the horizon. Literally, dawn knife-edged its way through a crack in the sky. A few minutes later, thin shards of radiant sunlight pierced through charcoal-grey clouds and reflected off the ocean's surface. It was stunning. You had to see it to get the full experience. I took pics and I'll share whenever we get to the land of Internet again.

David's new prop generator is really earning its keep. We haven't had to start the engine since leaving St. Helena and we've been running the watermaker for a couple of hours each day plus all the nav instruments plus the computers and iPads and we still have power left over and it's  shunting into the hot water heater. Pretty amazing. David reminds me that I initially pooh-poohed the idea. Was that me? Hmm...my memory is really bad these days. No matter. I'm already adding up diesel fuel credits and applying them  towards inland travel excursions when we get to the Guianas. Mama didn't raise no fool!

One beat-up, worse for the wear, flying fish on deck this morning. Total flying fish this passage - 3

flying fish

Day 5

Miles to go: 2,704 This was the kind of starry, starry night Van Gogh envisioned when he painted. The sky was clear and solid black. No moon vied for attention. It was all stars...millions and millions of them. Some bright and twinkling, some in clusters, some dim and barely visible. The sky was jam packed full of stars and it was mesmerizing. I picked out Orion's belt and sword immediately as he shone in the east, following our track.

For a change, David turned on the regular running lights instead of the masthead tricolor to see if we'd attract more flying fish during the night, but we didn't. One flying fish crashed onto the deck about 0200 and almost found his way into the cockpit. What a ruckus he made while I was so intent on stargazing. He really startled me. I took pity on him floundering about and tossed him back to Neptune. That's 4 flying fish total this passage.

We haven't touched the sails since we left St. Helena, but the wind has backed to the east and we needed to re-rig the pole on the starboard side. David was ready to go at the turn of the 0600 watch. I was still thick with sleep as he hauled in the foresails. We maneuvered the pole across and got it rigged in record time. David went to bed and I finally woke up to welcome an absolutely gorgeous day...all sunshine, blue sky, and fine breezes.

Time change. Changing the clocks during passage is a totally arbitrary thing. We tell time by the  rising and setting of the sun. The day of the week is totally irrelevant. It's been very dark at 0600 as we've moved farther west. We need to pick up three hours somewhere en route and thought we'd start today. It's easier to handle an hour at a time. We had a hard time figuring out what time zone we were in to gain one hour. Our iPads don't use GMT +/- xx hours, but rather depend upon location-specific time zones. I guess Apple figures most users know what city they're in. We're in the Praia, Cape Verde time zone, by the way.

We love your company ... Days 6 & 7

Joshua Slocum - Where are you?

We mentioned Captain Joshua Slocum in several blog posts and actually dedicated a whole post to him on his birthday one year. Slocum's Sailing Alone Around the World is a classic for sailors and quite a wonderful read. Sailing aboard his 37' yawl, Spray, he was the world's first solo circumnavigator (1895-1898) and an amazing guy. We knew he had stopped here in St. Helena, but had forgotten all about it until I saw a souvenir coffee mug in a local shop here with an image of the Slocum commemorative plaque on it. We'd never seen it. I asked where it was and nobody in the shop knew, but figured the Tourist Info folks would know.

We walked next door and asked a new friend, Val, where the plaque was located. Hmm … she didn't know and asked another tourist info woman. She didn't know either. Our best bet, they said, was going to see Liz at the museum. We didn't have anything else on the agenda, so we trotted the hill to the museum and found Liz only too accommodating. She had no idea where the plaque was, maybe in the Castle Gardens, but she dug through several files and books to verify where it might be. All to no avail. “Go to the Archives” she  advised. “They'll surely know where it is.”

So we strolled across Main Street through the Castle gates to the Archives where a lovely young lady spent at least 30 minutes hunting through registers and files, looking for mention of Joshua Slocum and  the plaque commemorating his visit to the island in 1898.

She found a copy of the actual newspaper article in the St. Helena Guardian dated April 14, 1898, which she kindly allowed me to photograph, but no mention of the existence of the plaque or its whereabouts. She suggested looking in the Castle Gardens or perhaps, the Heritage Trust would know something about it.

We stopped in the Castle Gardens and made a careful circuit of the grounds, just in case we'd missed it the last time through, but we could find no plaque, so we headed back up Main Street to the Heritage Trust office. We explained our quest and though they promised to look further into it, they had no more information to offer, nor any other suggestions for searching further. We'd exhausted all the options.

The story of Slocum's visit here was a good one, by the way. When he arrived in Jamestown Harbour and anchored Spray (probably not too far from where Nine of Cups is moored today), he was warmly greeted and welcomed. Slocum was quite the raconteur and gave two talks while here, one for a few pence admission (fattening up the cruising kitty) at the Garden Hall and one at Plantation House for the Governor, officers and special guests.  He was actually invited to stay at Plantation House as the guest of the Governor (we were not) for a few days in a room that was reputedly haunted. He met no ghosts and received gifts of fresh fruit and cakes when he departed. What the article did not say was that he was also given a gift of a goat, which in his book he refers to as an “incarnation of evil”. The goat managed to eat his West Indies charts, much of his food, several lines and Slocum's best straw hat. He “marooned” the animal ashore at Ascension when he dropped off the mail.

We headed back to Cups, our quest unfulfilled. We reread Slocum's chapter about St. Helena Island, chuckling all over again about the goat and his luck (or lack thereof) with other animals he'd had aboard … a rat, a tree-crab, a centipede and some crickets. The only animals that evidently managed to survive without causing problems were a family of spiders that had been aboard since his departure from Boston.

The next morning we took a short-cut we'd found behind the Customs building up through the Castle Gardens, heading for Anne's Place to do some internet. And there it was … as plain as day … the Slocum plaque. It wasn't really hidden away, just way at the back of the garden where one would usually not go unless heading down to Customs or the apartments just behind. Birds had managed to deface the plaque, but the rest of our water bottle and some toilet tissue did a fine clean-up job. Hello, Joshua Slocum!

St. Helena to French Guiana - Days 1 & 2

french guiana 3215 nm

Day 1

Miles to go: 3,215

We had a false start on our planned departure day. We'd checked out the day before and all was ready on Nine of Cups ... except us. We dilly-dallied around till it was well into the afternoon and then the stove solenoid seemed to be having a problem and we finally decided to spend another day on the mooring. Port Control was most obliging, which was good because we'd spent the last of our St. Helena pounds on a bottle of St. Helena-produced rum!  I think we've been running around so much on the island, we needed to get back into passage mode, and a day and night on the boat was just what the doctor ordered.

The actual departure day dawned sunny and warm. We were up and ready to cast off the mooring lines by 0730. St. Helena Radio bade us farewell and we were on our way. A friendly pod of pantropical spotted dolphins swam with us for several miles...a fine send-off.

The sun soon ducked behind the grey, overcast sky to which we've become accustomed. Still, it was comfortably warm with just a sweatshirt and sweatpants and our feet were bare. No complaints. We set a northwest course (324 degrees) and moved along at 5.5 to 6 knots with 12-15 knots of apparent wind from the southeast. We poled out to port and the heel wasn't bad. A delightful way to start a long, 3,000 nm passage. Late in the afternoon, we could still see St. Helena rising out of the Atlantic behind us, but as the grey day faded, soon the island, too, dipped below the horizon and faded from sight.

It was calm enough to cook dinner down below (tuna fish and pasta). No one's felt the least bit nauseous...thank, Neptune. We saved the PB & J sandwiches for night watch.

Day 2

Miles to go: 3,081

A crappy first back-to-sea night watch. It alternated drizzle, then heavy rain, then more drizzle. Just when we thought it had stopped and dragged all our gear to the cockpit, it would start all over again. The pattern repeated throughout the night. The wind increased to the mid-20s with gusts in the 30s, and with it, a corresponding increase in the wave action. We had some good-sized waves knocking us around by 0300. The ride was lumpy and bumpy, but fast, and we averaged high 6s, 7s and 8s all through the night hours ... but not much sleep.

It's a new moon, so no moon at all and the sky's as black as tar. We could see stars every once in awhile for brief periods. Soon we should be able to see the North Star again. It's been a long, long time since Cups has been in the northern hemisphere.

The day dawned sunny with blue skies which were soon masked by thick, grey banks of clouds that showered all around us, but not on us. A positive consequence of last night's heavy rains is that the decks are noticeably clean this morning. The grey day lingered on and finally the blue sky reappeared. The winds have continued in the high teens and low 20s, giving us a reasonable point of sail, good mileage and big waves.

St. Helena already seems like a pleasant, but distant memory. We're getting back into passage mode with many miles before us.

Sail along with us ...  Days 3 - 5