Crossing the Indian Ocean - Day 10

day 10 map

Indian Ocean Crossing - Update 4

Geraldton, Western Australia to Cocos Keeling

Day 10

Remember I talked about how idyllic this trip has been? Well, we're making up for it ...all in one day. The tenth day of our passage was rather action-packed and deserves a separate blog unto itself.

The day started out well enough, the light breezes of the past two days disappeared and Neptune graced us with the trade winds once again. We picked up speed and of course, as the winds increased, so did the seas. We rigged the port settee with lee cloths as our sea berth.

Just after Noon, the AIS alarm went off. A ship, 15 nautical miles away, had a CPA  (closest point of approach) of under one mile. We had a visual on him 6 miles out. His CPA was getting closer - .75nm. We hailed the freighter, Berge Manaslu, a Panamanian registered vessel en route from Brazil to China, to make sure they could see us and asked their intentions. We got a quick response in good English that indicated yes, we were on their radar and they had adjusted their course to port to allow us more clearance room. We chatted for a moment, exchanging pleasantries. Though we would have guessed he would have crossed behind our stern, it appeared he was crossing our bow. He certainly had access to more sophisticated equipment and probably more experience, so we went with his decision.

As he came closer and closer and the CPA showed an imminent collision, we took evasive action. We needed to jibe. Since we were poled out, this meant taking in the jib in record time, jibing, and cutting hard to port to pass behind his stern. We came within .2nm of either being t-boned or hitting him broadside. Huge ocean out there and not enough room for a tanker and a tiny sailboat. We hailed again to ask him what he was thinking, but this time no response to our hails. Whew!

Shortly after resuming our course, we got a solid hit on the fishing line. Hooray ... Fish for dinner. But, alas, we had hooked a white fairy tern known by the locals as the "pilot of the Cocos". Oh, no! I went to grab a towel in hopes we could somehow catch and release him, but David gave me the "kaput" sign, index finger across the throat. He'd been dragged under for quite awhile. He was a goner. Then, like a Phoenix rising from the ashes, he darted out of the water like a shot and flew away. This would have been tantamount to killing an albatross in my book and, oh, the consequences of that!

The winds continued to increase, the seas building, but we were moving along nicely wing on wing until a rogue wave, an untimely gust and an accidental jibe and ...CRASH! The whisker pole snapped in half, leaving two halves with ragged aluminum shards on their ends falling to the deck. David assessed the damage. The mast-end of the pole could not be lifted back into place, so we lashed it to the mast pulpit. After much coaxing, the sheared-off extender tube was freed and lashed to the lifelines above the fender boards.

With the 30 knot wind still behind us and significant weather helm, we wrestled down the mainsail and flew the jib alone, sacrificing no speed and getting a marginally better ride.

Each afternoon, we customarily have a cuppa and two TimTams each, carefully doled out so they'll last as long as possible. TimTams are Australia's favorite sweet biscuits (cookies), so the ads tell us. They come in several varieties. David prefers Original (chocolate) and I prefer white chocolate. After our adrenaline-rich afternoon, we felt most deserving of this treat. I noted with dismay that I only had two left in my package while David had four. At first we attributed it to my being a tad piggy one afternoon, but a closer look revealed David's package contained 11 cookies per package while mine had only 9... 200g vs. 165 g. A grievous difference! How could I have known? Same price, same size package on the outside. How could they expect me to read the fine print? This was grounds for a mutiny until the captain generously offered to give me one cookie from his package, evening out the cookie allotment to 10 each. Mutiny avoided.

The night was a wild ride. We stood two hour watches. It was unpleasant on deck with the boat knocking around in the waves. Salt spray flew off breaking waves and stung our faces. Below, there was no comfortable place to be. The sea berth, though confining, allowed little rest and added to the already mounting list of aches and pains. It was a toss-up which was worse, standing watch or trying to sleep.

And then morning came and, though I wish I could tell you all was calm and fine, it was more of the same. The good news? 62 miles to go to Cocos Keeling.

Today's catch: 6 flying fish, 1 bird, 1 whisker pole, many bumps and bruises, no edible fish, equal amounts of TimTams. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Continue on to our arrival in Cocos Keeling.

Last Signs of Australia

We've posted lots of signs and ads we've seen along the way and here's the last the of Aussie sign collection … at least for awhile. From Rottnest Island …

Geraldton barber's sidewalk sign gives fair warning.

What better icon for a porta-loo?

For sure, this ain't California.

No wash, no dry, no wake

Sign on a boat for sale in Two Rocks

Obviously, sailors moved ashore.

We weren't sure what they expected us to do. Take cover?

Do they carve grave monuments or are they really monumental masons?

We're definitely in Australia. They're keeping out the bogans!

The Blue View - Replacing the Windlass

After making the decision to buy a new windlass, we contacted the dealer, Michael Date at McIntyre Marine (aka Southern Seas Marine) in Queensland. He gave us a great price on the new model, which supposedly had the same footprint and should fit the same holes as the old unit. He even went to the trouble to un-package the new unit and repackage it in two boxes so it could be shipped via the postal service – saving us almost $800 in shipping. A good man to work with! The new unit arrived on schedule, and the marina called to let us know the two 40 lb (18.4kg) packages had arrived. Now all that was left was the minor part – installing it.

When we installed the previous windlass, it was quite a bit different from the original windlass. In order to mount the newer one, I had to first fill all the old holes with epoxy. Then I used the drill template provided by the manufacturer to mark the five small holes and two large holes required for the new windlass. The decks on Nine of Cups consist of two fiberglass layers with a core of plywood. When drilling holes in the deck, it is important that the outside diameter of each hole is sealed to prevent water from making its way into the plywood core. I drilled each hole considerably oversized, and then filled the five smaller holes with thickened epoxy. Once it kicked, I drilled the holes again in the correct size This not only stiffened the deck around the mounting bolts, but also provided a waterproof barrier to protect the plywood core.

The finished size of the two larger holes was almost exactly the same as a can of tomatoes. I covered the bottom of each over-sized hole with cardboard, and taped it in place. Then I took two empty tomato cans, each with both ends removed, wrapped them in waxed paper, and set them in place in their respective holes. I used tape to keep them in place, then filled the area around each of the cans with epoxy, thickened to the consistency of catsup. Once the epoxy kicked, I used a hammer to collapse the two cans so they could be removed. Then I let the epoxy cure completely.

This whole process took a day or two, then required a couple more days for the epoxy to cure. If the new windlass did fit the old holes as advertised, none of this would be necessary and the new installation would be straightforward.

I unwrapped the top half of the windlass and carried it forward. I aligned all the bolts with their respective holes and lowered it into place. It fit perfectly! I pulled it back up, then positioned the gasket, caulked underneath the entire assembly and lowered the top half back into place.

Mounting the bottom half was the part I was dreading. The motor and gearbox are quite heavy, about 40 lbs (18.4kg), and would have to be wrestled into the forepeak, then lifted with one outstretched arm, aligned with the mounting studs, and held in place until I could get a nut started with the other hand. I used a plank to slide the assembly into the forepeak as I wriggled my way in. Marcie handed me a nut, I gritted my teeth and I lifted the motor – and it slid right into place! I quickly started the nut to hold it, then took my time securing it with the remaining washers and nuts. This was going too well – surely some big setback was waiting for me.

The chain pipe was next. It fit around the new windlass without a problem, and I bolted it in place.

The new windlass also came with a new solenoid. The old one was working fine, but as long as I was upgrading the windlass, I might as well install the new solenoid and keep the old one as a spare. This, along with the replacement of a few wires that were showing corrosion took the remainder of the day.

The following morning, I coated all the wire terminals, connections and the motor housing in Boeshield T9® to help prevent future corrosion, then routed the chain up through the chain pipe and re-connected it to the anchor. The only thing left to do was to test everything. I lowered and raised the anchor. I used the capstan to lift and lower the dinghy. I checked the chain counter, and it was working. I searched the deck, looking for some critical part I had forgotten to install, but found nothing. Everything appeared to be working.

This is extremely troubling. Never in the history of my boat projects has one gone so smoothly, nor can I ever remember completing a project ahead of schedule. Perhaps this was the exception that proves Murphy's Law. Perhaps the odds were finally in my favor – if it's a 1000:1 that everything will go as planned, then perhaps this was the one. Or perhaps I'll discover what I missed when we next try to anchor at Cocos-Keeling.