We're laughin!

We are away from the dock!

After four months of waiting in Bali to come home, Conversations at last untied herself from the dock, motored out through all the Bali water borne holiday traffic, put up her sails headed south back out into the trade winds and turned west.

And here we are, dangling along at 7, 8 knots plus. The morning is bright and clear with 2 meter seas sunning blue under the morning sun as 15 knots of breeze builds white caps. I have a full main up, and a hard sheeted genoa to steady the roll as we move comfortably along on a very broad starboard reach.

Its just the two of us this time. It seems like such a bloody big boat for just me after all the friends and family who have been a part of this adventure from San Francisco. But otherwise it feels very familiar, as you would expect. The big difference is that there is only one watch! Last night I spent the night awake dodging fishing trawlers as I made my way further from shore and two squalls roused me from my nodding in the cockpit and showered me with sweet fresh water after a day of sweating. At midnight, the temperature was still 32 C and it was way too hot below for anything but to grab water and a bite to eat.

Just before sunset, I passed right between two humpback whales making their way east as I went west. The first one passed by close on the port side. At 50 yards or so away, he didn't pay me any attention that I could tell. But the second one passed right alongside the starboard rail and rose out of the water almost touching the boom to eye ball me as we passed in a split second. Snorting as he sounded. I could smell the fish he had for dinner (just kidding about the fish smell) But otherwise, that was a first! What magnificent creatures. As I watched them off the transom, one of them did a full breach and crashed back in the water with such force I could hear him a 100 yards away. A few hours later, in the dark of the night, dolphins came to play in our wake. What a wonderful night.

Had a minor tangle with the headsail roller last night, failing to get the sail fully furled, but it was too rough and dark to deal with so I sorted it all out this morning. Several times during the night, I got out the flashlight, clipped on my harness and went forward to the bow to make sure it wasn't getting worse. Otherwise the boat is doing great. And, I have finally mastered the spinnaker poles. I can do a solo launch and take down by harnessing them with the foreguy and toping lift before swinging them from the mast (yes we have two of the monsters and they are dangerous if I let them swing in the seaway!)

I am 20 hours into the passage. Looks like Day one will be about 130 NM, pretty good considering the light coastal winds I had to work through.

My thought for the day has to do with discipline and habit. As I head into my first solo offshore passage, I am appreciating how much habit carries me through the chores of sea keeping and my anxiousness for managing this big boat on my own so far away from help. I had great teachers, especially one old New England gentleman and captain, who taught me the importance of doing things 'right' so when things otherwise go 'wrong', as they always do, we are already ahead of the curve and not behind it. I learned from him how habit, that wonderful human automatic pilot, is built and maintained from just a little discipline, especially important in the beginning. Our habits keep our lives ship shape; they give us the chance to really experience our lives from in front of the curve, rather than behind it. To others, it looks like discipline, but its really just habit after just a short while.

Would love to hear from anyone, comments, questions, even advice! Email me at ve7cxw@winlink.org - no attachments or other non essentials please, this stuff is down loaded over the ham radio at about 10% of the speed of dial up!

TTFN
Cresswell

No more excuses, nothing, nothing to do but go sailing.

Its Wednesday, very early Wednesday morning, and I unable to sleep am wondering what it is like to be heading off in the morning to sail 2300 NM all by my self. What is it like, I am wondering, because I am not really sure, despite being in the middle of the experience. I think I am anxious, a little fearful, a little confused. The only thing I am sure about, oddly, is this; there is nothing else in the world I want to be doing tomorrow than walking back down the dock after a civilized breakfast at the Bali Yacht club and getting on the boat and heading out to sea on a three week trade wind passage. All by myself. 'All by myself' seems to be the thing. All by myself. Isn't that the thing that is what being born into this life is about. Sure we are born to mothers, loving mothers, fathers, maybe some siblings, but, still it is basically a solo experience. Like being naked. Naked we are born into our lives, naked and alone we go out. Everything else is an illusion. Might as well try sailing this way.

My romance is that this is going to be the most significant experience of my life. Will this be true? Time only well tell.

I was standing on the deck after midnight, listening to water running out of the hose into the water tanks as I snuck some unmetered water after all the staff have gone home for the night. The marina at night is mostly about shadows and shapes, and quiet. No wind, no voices. Nobody walking about. Just silent floating boats. Black and whites, and greys, and curving lines of boat sides and deck lines. Standing there looking over Conversations deck lines, I though this boat is like a train, a night train. So long and lean, I imagine her in 24 hours driving through the night seas, split by her sharp bows and shouldered aside. In my vision, I am standing somewhere aft looking forward, hanging on for dear life, wondering at the power and beauty of such a huge boat and water and of being so alone.

So if you have been following along, you will have guessed since the last post, the engine has been repaired. Still not perfect, but good enough to do the job. The boat is now fully provisioned with some fresh as well as staple foods, the water and fuel tanks are full to the brim, all the tools are packed up, the boat vacuumed and tided up for sea. She is ready and so am I. I guess, I am. I am, I guess. I am. I guess.

Cresswell

Bali, Bali, Bali, Bali, Bali, Bali, Bali!

Well folks, still here!
Its been 7 long, hot days working like a Trojan. You know, of course, God created the world in 7 days and 7 nights, well six actually, because he was smart enough to take a day off. I think that is pretty impressive, don't you? Considering how little I have accomplished working all 7 days and nights, I see why people believe in miracles! From the cool of the dawn, through the heat of the day to the welcome afternoon breeze before sunset, I have laboured away below decks, trying to breath life back into Conversations II. To the uninitiated, you see, a boat ages more while sitting than sailing. I came onboard last week after four months and nothing worked. I had to start by unfreezing all my tools that had rusted solid. Then it took me two days just to get the plumbing, electrical and propane working. Working in the 90 degree heat and 100 % humidity, I had to be careful working around electrical equipment. You see, I am melting!

So far, I have installed a new autopilot -- TQM -- a product I expect to be vastly superior to the Autohelm it replaces, a new Furuno radar 2300 series, with low power settings and watch mode to keep lookout for "targets" day and night, and a bunch of little things here and there. Finally ready for a test sail, I cleared the dock with a fellow sailor, only to find, surprise, surprise, the engine is not working! No power. We bid a hasty retreat back to the dock against a big outgoing tide. The $500 dollars worth of work I paid to fix the problem I knew I had when I left the boat last December, did not fix the problem. Of course. That would be too simple - to pay someone else to fix the problem and have it actually fixed. So this morning, while I take a breather from my labours, the diesel lies in parts, the whole fuel injection system off in somebodies hands for testing and rebuilding. And I am waiting, and not very patiently. If this fix doesn't bring back the engine, the next stop might be a total engine rebuild.

If you haven't guessed already from the tone of this posting, from my labours this week, I am exhausted. I guess a day or two waiting, hoping second $500 will fix the engine is what I need to be ready to put to sea is what I need. I guess a good pilot prepares himself, while he prepares his craft. Everything happens for a reason.

The good news is that I have insurance approval for the single handed passage. I have all the staple provisions on board I need for just little old me to live on for 3 weeks. The new autopilot and radar are working nicely. The SE trade winds are settling in and building over the next 48 hours. And everything else on the boat is more or less working again, so when the engine is fixed I will be out of here like a shot. Wednesday morning... touch wood.

I have to tell you, lounging about in the trade winds while the boat does the work for a while, sounds pretty darn attractive right now.