Crossing the Indian Ocean - Cocos to Rodrigues Days 7 & 8

days 7-9 cocos to rod

days 7-9 cocos to rod

Day 7 Miles run last 24 hours:  148             

Miles to go: 1095

The day started out beautifully. Blue sky, fluffy white clouds, reasonable winds and seas ...an enjoyable day to be sailing on the Indian Ocean. Just before dinner time, dark clouds appeared on the southeast horizon ...huge ,black, ominous-looking clouds. Maybe just a squall. We saw a rainbow...a full rainbow, arcing across the sky. Rain on its way. The wind  piped up. We reefed down as we watched the rain moving in heavy, dark sheets towards us. We gathered all of our gear from the cockpit and stowed it below. We were in for a soaker.

The wind increased ... 25, 30, 35 knots. The seas kicked up quickly. We hunkered down below. Making dinner was a challenge. We cozied up on the starboard settee ...stuck in place by gravity. Nine of Cups jerked and bucked violently, reacting to the collusion of winds and seas. It became uncomfortably hot below while outside a cool wind kept screaming. Waves crashed loudly ...thud....splash.

Sleeping was wishful thinking. The ride was too rough. By my 0300 off watch, however, I was exhausted enough to finally doze off. I awoke to the sound of a freight train colliding with Cups. One "big mutha wave"  delivered a huge hit and the boat rolled like a boxer taking a wicked left cross to the jaw. CRASH ... In the following seconds,  things went flying through the saloon and a huge deluge of water forced its way through the secured companionway hatch boards and the dorades.

David, on watch at the nav station, was thrown out of his seat against the breaker panel. Marcie asleep on the starboard sea berth was the recipient of gallons of sea water over her head. Everything was soaked ..clothes, sheets, pillows. Water on the galley counters stood two inches deep and worked its way inside lockers. An iPad went sailing across the saloon, ricocheted off the  galley wall, and finally settled in a puddle on the galley floor. The  saloon table, the bookcases, the sole ...everything was completely doused and dripping. Stuff was strewn about everywhere.

It took a second or two to figure out what had happened. The wind continued to shriek, the boat shuddered and bucked. We were both momentarily flustered. We pulled ourselves together quickly, assessed the damage, grabbed towels and rags and began mopping up. We heard an alarm sounding on deck.

Evidently, the cockpit had been totally pooped ... all lines and sheets were hanging over the starboard side trailing in the water. It was the ignition switch that was shrieking so loudly and it wouldn't shut off. The switch had gotten submerged, and so much salt water had gotten inside the switch, it had caused it to short, turning on the ignition. Other alarms were sounding ...the bilge pump was on, the high water alarm added to the bedlam; the autopilot was complaining that it was off course.

This crew is exhausted. Stay tuned for more...

Deck count:  Who knows, who cares? Morale: Somewhat less than usual.

Day 8 - Cocos to Rodrigues Miles run last 24 hours:  160         

Miles to go:  941

David temporarily disconnected the ignition switch, knowing he'd have to do something if we were to turn on the engine later to top the batteries. The other alarms were handled in turn and the chaos was in check. Our back-up cockpit GPS was not working.

It took well over an hour to mop up. Where to put even more waterlogged towels, rags, clothes? By 0515, Marcie was back in the sea berth with dry linen, but up again at 0600 for the change of watch.

The day finally dawned ...dark, dreary, and boisterous. There would be no respite short term. David slept soundly through his off-watch, and a very exhausted first mate collapsed into the sea berth seconds after he vacated it.

Now that it was light, David conducted a general triage of apparent damage and began fixing. He re-wired the ignition and replaced the switch. The GPS was an easy fix. When he was thrown against the breaker panel, he hit the outlet switch and unknowingly turned it off by accident. A flip of the switch and the GPS came alive, found its fix and started ticking off the miles again.

Long, uneventful naps during the day despite the continued rough sea, and the crew recovered a bit. We've been at sea a week now with another week to go. Let's hope Neptune considers our dues paid for this passage.

Deck count:  8, plus a small fry waiting for us in the cockpit Morale: Improving

Continue with us on our Indian Ocean crossing.

10 Days to Cocos Keeling

Our passage from Geraldton, Western Australia to the Cocos Keeling Islands in the Indian Ocean was idyllic. We could not have asked for better weather, better winds or better conditions. (Okay, that 10th day sucked, but the good days were really good! ) Here's our photo journal of the trip and our passage stats: Planned miles: 1422 Actual Miles: 1468

Days at sea: 10.5 Average speed: 5.8 kts

Flying fish: 14 Squid: 4 Birds: 1 Edible fish: 0

 

humpback whale breaching

Humpback whale breaching just off our port beam

 

red tailed tropic bird

A red-tailed tropic bird did frequent flyovers.

 

dramatic sunrise

A dramatic sunrise on the Indian Ocean

 

brute force and a hammer

The captain resorts to brute force (and hammer) to coax a jammed whisker pole into service.

 

wing on wing

Nine of Cups sailed downwind wing-on-wing for most of the passage. Our poor American flag looks a bit worse for the wear.

 

big waves

Winds and waves were big at times. We saw up to 40 knot gusts and lots of green water over the bow.

 

flying fish

Flying fish come in different sizes.

 

stuck squid

Squids are sticky … especially on the mainsail.

 

moonset sunrise

Moonset is no competition for sunrise.

 

cocos

Arrival at beautiful Cocos Keeling Atoll

Captive Aboard at Cocos Keeling

We woke late for us (0715), early for Cocos Keeling (0545) … we've grabbed the 1-1/2 hour time zone change without a hitch. After a remarkably calm and peaceful night, despite the howling wind, we were all ready to embrace our new surroundings and get to work on the to-do list. First things first, however … I made a coffee cake and we sat in the cockpit to enjoy it along with our morning cuppa. We do have priorities on Nine of Cups.  

crack of dawn at cocos keeling

 

The wind continues to scream, but still, sitting in the cockpit was a delight. We are surrounded by startlingly clear and vibrant turquoise blue water. It almost hurts your eyes, it's that dazzling. We can see zillions of palm trees on Direction Island, in front of which all the rally boats are anchored. Home Island, the home of the resident Cocos Malay people is about 1.5 miles away and quite clear. West Island, the administrative center, airport and ex-pat Aussie hangout is quite hazy and about 5 miles away across the lagoon. We saw a pod of dolphins swimming near the boat this morning. Supposedly the swimming, snorkeling and diving are great here on calmer days though the dolphins didn't seem to mind the wind in the least.

 

direction island

 

We had thought to move into the inner lagoon in the lee of Direction Island today, but at least four more rally boats have arrived and only one has left to our knowledge, which makes for an even more crowded anchorage. We decided we were comfortable enough where we were in Port Refuge for the time being. Besides, the wind was still blowing consistently near 30 knots and we wouldn't be launching the dinghy today … more akin to flying a kite. We're content to be captive aboard Nine of Cups till the winds settle down (and maybe some of the boats leave the anchorage). There's definitely plenty to keep us busy.

 

crowded anchorage

 

David got right to work on his to-do list. First, the cockpit GPS which we just replaced about six months ago and which he just re-wired in Geraldton. It's toast, but we have several GPSs aboard … no worries, just not as convenient. Let's move on! Taking down the jib for repair in 30 knots, probably not. Ah, yes, the whisker pole. I helped him take it off the track so he could get the sail cover on and then left him to his own devices with instructions to take pictures as he went along. His goal is to cut off the broken bits of the aluminum extension pole, refit it and make it useable again. Knowing David, if it can be done, he'll do it. He's a great MacGyver kind of guy.

 

whisker pole

 

In the meantime, all our our salt-water sodden clothes have been rinsed in fresh water and another load of laundered clothes are holding on for dear life pinned to an aft clothesline that we rigged. In this wind, they should dry quickly if they don't jump ship first. The wind gen is putting out beaucoup amps and the watermaker is churning away, turning all that beautiful turquoise salt water around us into to beautiful drinking water for the tank.

 

clothes in the breeze

 

The Federal Police never showed up today to check us in … perhaps too windy even for them or too busy with all the ARC boats?

Still … there are certainly worse ways to be captive.