Crossing the Indian Ocean - Mauritius to Durban Days 3-5

madagascar

Day 3 Miles to go:  1369 nm

We had originally planned to stop at the French overseas territory of Reunion Island only 120 nm from Mauritius. We'd heard good and bad about it. The marina in Le Port was in an industrial area and a rental car was necessary to get anywhere. The marina at St. Pierre was in a great downtown location, but the entrance could be difficult and the port was closed in bad weather, making a speedy departure a challenge. In the end, Neptune made the decision for us. We were delayed in Mauritius long enough to make a reasonable stay in Reunion imprudent, given the imminent onset of cyclone season. A day for check-in and getting settled, a day to check-out and no time to see the island in between.

We weren't feeling all that good as we sailed past Reunion,  so changing our plans wasn't in the cards. La Reunion is a high, volcanic, mountainous island and yet from only four miles out, all we could see was the hazy outline of a land mass shrouded in heavy, grey clouds and mist ... not much more than a blurry smudge on the horizon. It looked as of the French were deliberately trying to hide it from us. No matter, we gave it short shrift and passed on by. When darkness approached, the island was more prominent, its ghostly loom illuminating the night sky for miles and miles behind us.

We're seeing lots of ships during our watches ... several heading to Durban , just like us. So far, none have come all that close and for that we are thankful. Also, thankful to be among the living again.

Day 4 Miles to go: 1226 nm

We rigged the pole yesterday afternoon when the wind backed to the east. By nightfall, it had clocked south/southeast again and we were beam-reaching again. Errant clouds have been sprinkling on us, but for the most part, we're enjoying sunny weather by day and clear skies at night. We're in the midst of a huge high pressure area at the moment, but the GRIBs are showing a low pressure making its way east. We're giving the south coast of Madagascar a wide berth, nearly 150 miles. Its southern coast is known for huge freak waves which we'd prefer to avoid.

We had been doing fairly well distance-wise each day, but we've slowed down a bit. Otherwise, all is well and we're pretty much in the watch groove now.

Day 5 Miles to go:  1129 nm

Though it felt like we were making reasonable speed with the 12 knots of wind we had at our disposal, the GPS showed us going slower and slower as the night progressed. We switched the pole to the port side again around dusk, preparing for the winds to switch to the north. By 0300, we were limping along under 3 knots and by the 10am log, we'd sailed under 100 miles for the 24-hour period. What's up?

It could only be a couple of things. There was enough wind and we had all the sails out and trimmed, so that wasn't it. We could be dragging something ... part of a jetliner, or a whale, or maybe a container, or a longline net with a fishing boat attached? Without actually checking the hull and rudder, the best we could do was hang over the side and stern to see if we could see something. There was nothing apparent.

We thought initially it might be current, but in checking the Indian Ocean pilot for currents in the area in November and December, if there was any current at all, it should have been helping us. David had removed the speed transducer when we got to Port Louis because the marina was so foul and had forgotten to replace it when we left. Since it was the only thing we could think to do short of heaving-to and going overboard to check Cups' bottom, he re-installed it and ..mystery solved. An adverse current of  nearly  2 knots had been impeding our progress for over 15 hours.

We switched the pole once again and headed due west with hopes of evading the current. Sure enough, within a couple of hours the GPS speed and the speed through the water were in sync. There's still a good chance we'll make it to Durban by Thanksgiving. No more delays, please!

Continue on our Indian Ocean crossing here.

The Blue View - Passage Boredom

Our current passage across the Indian Ocean is quite typical of most of our longer passages. We've had days of pleasant downwind sailing, with sunny, warm days, cool nights, and small following seas, interspersed with some really crappy days with squalls and big seas. A few things have broken, but, so far (knock on wood and thank you Neptune) nothing critical.

We have had some really crappy passages over the years, with nasty weather and a lot of things going wrong. It seems, however, that we have a very short memory for the unpleasant passages and a much longer memory for the good ones. That's a good thing - otherwise we would have sold Nine of Cups to the highest bidder and found another lifestyle a long time ago.

So what do we do to stay occupied during a long passage? Being confined to the boat with real limitations on what we can do would seem to be quite boring after a day or so - let alone weeks or more at sea. While the pace is definitely slower than when we are at anchor or in a marina, we are rarely bored. I'll take you through a typical day.

To begin with, if you read Marcie's blog post about watch-standing a while back, you know we each spend 12 hours every day on watch. Nine of Cups has an autopilot, which means we don't have to stand at the helm steering all this time. Someone does have to remain on watch, paying attention, however. It's the on-watch person's job to keep us on course, keep a lookout for ships and fishing vessels and other obstructions like floating containers, sleeping whales and aircraft debris. That person also keeps an eye out for approaching squalls and thunderstorms, so we have time to reef down, and in general, anything that is out of the ordinary. This all sounds like a lot of activity, but what it really amounts to is being aware of what is going on, taking a good look around every 15 minutes or so, and spending 5 minutes at the top of each hour logging. Of those 12 hours spent on watch, probably only 4 hours are spent doing watch standing activities.

When not on watch, we each get two, 3 hour periods of sleep each night, and a couple of 1 hour naps during our off watches during the day. Adding everything up, that means we each have about 12 hours of extra time on our hands. Here is what I do to occupy myself during those 12 hours.

Meals: 2.5-3 hours. Breakfast is usually something light, but lunch and dinner both take about an hour from the time Marcie starts preparing until I finish cleaning up.

Reefing: .5-1 hour. We usually reef down just before dark and shake it out after dawn. We can't always see a squall coming after dark, and we would much rather lose 8-12 nm each day than have an adrenalin rush in the middle of the night trying to reef the mainsail in the middle of a squall.

Sail adjustments: 0-2 hours. We are sailing downwind, which means frequent jibes as the wind shifts. Each jibe requires moving the whisker pole to the other side, and it still takes us between 30 minutes and an hour to switch it over. On my list of things to do are several thoughts for streamlining the process.

Ablutions: 0.5-1 hour. Most days, this covers shaving, washing, brushing teeth and applying sunscreen. Every 3rd day or so, I take a "kettle" bath. Maybe more info than you wanted?

Fishing: 0.5-3 hours. We usually trail a line. When we don't catch anything, I still spend a little time checking or changing the lure. When we do get a fish, it takes between 1 and 3 hours, depending on the size of the fish and the size of the seas, to land it, gut and fillet it, then clean the mess up and put everything away.

Maintenance: 1-6 hours. Something always, always, always breaks on a passage. Sometimes it is something critical, and I need to work on it until it is fixed or we figure out a temporary jury-rig to get us where we need to go. Most often, it is something less critical that can wait or isn't too difficult to fix underway. Then, there is always routine maintenance that needs doing - stainless to polish, mooring and dock lines that need repair or the ends whipped, tools to lubricate or repair, canvas that needs stitching, cleaning...

Project planning: 0.5-2 hours. I use this time to plan and prioritize the projects that need doing. Currently at the top of the list is to rebuild our aging whisker pole, make some changes to the mast track that will make deploying it more efficient, add a generator to the prop shaft that will generate power as we sail (I've had this on my list for years - I really need to get it done), and repaint our shear stripe (it got dinged up pretty badly when a motor yacht scraped against us in North Haven).

Writing: 2-4 hours. Lots of writing to do - blogs, articles I have promised, and proof/edit Marcie's upcoming book.

Morning cuppa: 0.5 hours. At 0900 each morning, we have a coffee/tea together and talk about any issues from the night before. Marcie discovered a squid lodged in the mainsail this morning, so that was a good part of this morning's conversation - he had to be airborne a good 10 feet out of the water to clear the boom - pretty impressive! We got him unstuck from the sail and tossed overboard.

Morning rounds: 0.5 hours. After our morning cuppa, I take a walk around the decks, getting rid of the night's collection of flying fish and looking for any new or potential problems. Are any lines chafing; any issues with the sails; any hardware lying on the deck? Two days ago, we found a bolt lying in the scupper, and after a brief search, found that it had worked loose from one of the stanchions.

Reading: whatever time is left. We do a lot of reading, especially on night watch. I try to scan the horizon after every couple of pages. Unless the wind picks up or shifts, or the AIS and or radar alarms go off, there usually isn't much else to do.

Total: 24-35 hours/day. There just isn't enough time each day to get everything done. I may have to cut back on my nap time!

Crossing the Indian Ocean - Mauritius to Durban Days 1-2

durban mileage 1605

Day 1 Beginning mileage:  1605 nm

No matter how ready we are to leave, we're never really ready till we're casting off the lines. There always seems to be a hectic rush doing all those last minute things that need to get done.

We were up at dawn making Skype calls to family, letting them know we were heading out and wouldn't be calling for a couple of weeks. David washed down the decks as they were filthy with Port Louis dust and grime; then he filled the water tanks. We plugged in everything to charge while we still had shore power...iPads, camera batteries, toothbrush, Davids razor.

I was busy in the galley. Chicken and rice passage soup, a coffee cake, extra rice for a rice salad in a day or two. I sent last minute emails and blog posts and posted on Facebook. Last minute cleaning and trash disposal. We took showers...our last good, hot showers for a couple of weeks.

We walked down to the market to spend our last Mauritian rupees on bread and fruit. We did an excellent job ... not a rupee left. Last, but not least, we headed to the Customs and Immigration office to check out of the country and get our clearance papers for Durban, South Africa. We had one hour to return to the marina and get out of Dodge. We were ready.

We sprung off the dock. David torque-turned Cups in the narrow channel while I coiled lines and stowed fenders.Ten minutes out into the harbor, an alarm went off. The starboard battery was overcharging. We pulled off to the side of the channel, dropped the anchor quickly and killed the engine. David sussed out the problem and corrected it immediately. He'd just equalized the batteries and a switch had been left in the wrong position. We were on our way again within the hour.

The S-SE winds we were expecting ended up being light noserlies ... from the WSW and right on the nose ... just like the swell. We motored for a few hours, frustrated with Neptune's pranks, but there wasn't much we could do about it. By1800, we had cleared the end of the island and the wind was a bit more southerly allowing us a tight point of sail. We were close-hauled,  but at least we were sailing.

We dined on passage soup and Saltines and settled in to our watch schedule.

Day2 Miles to go:  1491 nm (at 10am - 19 hour day)

Not much writing was done after we began our night watches. The wind picked up, the waves grew. We were still close-hauled, hard on the wind. We were heeled over, the starboard rails swallowed up by the sea. First came the slight headache, then the nausea, then seasickness like we'd not experienced in quite awhile. The puking onto the side deck, can't catch your breath, it would be okay to die now kind of seasickness. Nothing stayed down...not water or meds.  We heaved till our stomachs ached and our throats were raw. It was an endless night of long, cold watches accentuated by retching and nausea and dizziness. And then, the night faded into day, the seas calmed, the winds backed to the SE and we regained our sea legs. Another of Neptune's little tests.

As I write, we're both feeling much better, thank you very much. It's always worse when it's happening, and not as bad in retrospect although we'd prefer not to relive it any time soon.

Making slow but forward progress. Hoping to arrive in Durban in time to celebrate Thanksgiving.

Continue on our Indian Ocean crossing.