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.

Getting ready to single hand

I guess I am ready! Always wanted to do this, to single hand a passage offshore. So now I am going to. The first week of May I will leave Bali in Conversations II and sail her to Langkawi in Malaysia all by myself! Its a small step and a big step at the same time. I know the boat, and she is well equipped for this kind of passage. We have already sailed over 8000 miles together and I know she will be fast and safe. Besides its a trans-equatorial passage, tradewinds, doldrums, monsoons. Pretty gentle almost always.
On the other hand, it is 2300 miles, about 20 days. That's not a short passage. And its a big powerful boat, with just one hand to manager her - I will have to be thoughtful and careful.

With 10 berths on board, I wonder where I'll sleep? Probably in the cockpit. This is related to the first question most people ask "When will you sleep?" I'll sleep whenever I need to if it's safe to do so. I will have a working autopilot and a the Hydrovane wind steering will so the helming I will have radar to keep watch and AIS to pick the broadcast positions and heading of nearby ships, so I will be able to avoid being run down by a large vessel. And I have all the tunes in the world to keep me company.
Stay tuned, I'll be posting here everyday, starting with the last weeks of April when I head down to Bali to start the preparations.
Join Me!
Cresswell

The last word!

Sunday, Dec 14, Bali
Cresswell here

I cannot sleep, aware that this is my last night on board. This is everyone's last night on board. The moon is bright and full above, the scudding clouds are passing low overhead and and I am sad that we have come in from the sea, tied to the dock and tomorrow we leave the boat tied to the dock and head home off on our separate ways.

After 10 long days and nights, we arrived in Bali yesterday morning and here is where the boat will stay until the NW monsoons pass. Though we had hoped to carry right on to Singapore, the difficulty and length of the last passage was proof the NW monsoons had set in for the season. The monsoon season's contrary wind, when there was any, contrary currents, and the endless parade of tropical rain storms conspired to make the last passage long and taxing and the prospect of continuing onward rather
daunting. From here to Singapore during this season would have been a lot of work. Though I say with bravado I would carry on, our late arrival and work back home has claimed too many of our crew so I have the best excuse to rest Conversations II here while we will wait out the season.

So I am both relieved and disappointed. Getting all the back to Singapore was my goal, but, I must confess, after a total of 69 days at sea, I am feeling rather pooped! San Francisco to Hawaii, Hawaii to Fiji, Fiji to Vanuatu, Vanuatu to Darwin, and Darwin to Bali constituted over 10,000 sea miles of passage making. It has been many days and nights of fine sailing, some days and nights of not so fine sailing, but never did we suffer too much or ever did any of us regret the challenge.

It is no accident that we call our boat Conversations. Over all those miles, it was our friends as crew that filled the time with companionship and, what else, conversation. Collectively, you made this a trip of learning and heart for me and Irena and I would like to thank everyone who helped bring our new boat so very far. Al and Leona, Paul and Jordon, Dad/Don, Matt, Jim, Marcel, Rolland, Dennis and Rita, Jan and Bob, Cliff and Fiona and Peter you all gave of your time and talent to sail us safely
here - thank you, thank you!

And I would like to thank Irena. Though she had to get off the boat in Hawaii and go back to Singapore to hold down the fort and work, she never left our sides. She arranged crew, chased down and shipped repair parts and helped me, "Mr. Just-In-Time Planner" keep the whole thing on the rails. She kept our friends and family back home up to date on our progress, kept the blog in order and encouraged us all the way. Thank you! Thank you

We will make good use of the time in Bali to get work done on the boat. Perhaps new teak decks and soles (floor boards) and much cabinetry re-finishing will be done to clean her up below. In April or May, in finer weather, we will make the final 1000 miles sail to Singapore a pleasure cruise with more friends and family. So if you haven't put your hand up yet, now is the time!

See you in the Springtime!
C. Cresswell

Pete's Version of Events

Ha ha, after reading Matt's blog post I feel like I have to defend myself. Yes, getting Matt a jacket did take longer than expected, but only because the boat was heeling so hard that not just the toe rails were in the water, but the deck as well! I was half-standing on the nav station just trying to move around. I will admit that I was a bit green around the gills after, but I had complete confidence in Matt to steer us to safety. I'm not going to question why Mr. Matt "I took Physics AP in
High School" Fast thought that putting the boat perpendicular to the wind would make the boat even out, but I digress.

That storm turned out to be just the beginning of a very long day. We had crossed the Sumba Strait to find some refuge from the wind and the currents, both of which were pushing us backwards. The storm hit us just as we were completing the crossing. Once we reached the island of Sumbawa we began tacking our way up the coast. Cress will tell you he gave us time to get quick naps in between maneuvers, but Matt and I maintain that the 10 minutes he gave us was closer to 5. We had not been able
to go back to sleep since the storm. Progress was very slow, and a bit frustrating, as the weather was still rough and the decks still slippery.

Switching sails while heeling was quite the experience. Finding as many points of contact with the boat to keep balance while untying one sail and switching it with another, made me feel like I was finally getting some real sailing experience. Perhaps too much of it! We were all very tired at the end of that day.

Our visit to Waingapu was an early highlight on this trip. In dire need of diesel, we managed to find a port that could potentially fuel the boat. It began with us maneuvering around two docks trying to communicate what we were looking for, but without any knowledge of the language and a few unintentional hand gestures, it probably looked like we were trying to find something that a gas station couldn't provide us.

When we were finally docked and sorted, we found the locals to be great people. Though there was a language gap, we managed to communicate fairly well. They took a particular shining to Matt, who had given one of the visitors to our boat his hat. In return they nicknamed him Osama bin Laden (alas Matt has been growing a beard for the past 3 months).

We will be arriving in Bali shortly where we will sort out the details for the rest of the trip.

Pete

30 Seconds of fear...

Hello all,
Matt here Thursday December 11

It's been a long time because there's been nothing to write about. I've opened this blog window five or six times over the last few days, began to write but nothing has come out. I've finally got something to write about! It also turns out that this is my "three months on the boat day" as I arrived on the 11th of September. I can't believe it's been that long, and I can't believe it's almost over! Anyways...

It was 5.15am and the sun was just starting to light the morning overcast skies. We'd had some wind for a few hours and we had been motor sailing towards the island of Sumbawa. Pete and I were having another one of our incredibly useless but hilarious conversations, this one was about Cartman in a coma, singing the stupid song that goes along with yet another South Park episode. The waves were beginning to build and the decks were becoming saturated with the crashing waves. I looked below and
saw Fi emerge from the v-berth, hair wet and face tired. She explained that she had left her hatch open a few inches to cool the air in the sauna-like cabin. One of the aforementioned waves had crashed over the bow, soaking Fi and her berth. She came up to join in the "conversation". Almost immediately upon her arrival the winds decided to pick up and I felt a few sprinkles of the rain storm which I had failed to notice. Within seconds the wind had increased to an apparent speed of just over
25 knots, which is close to the highest I've seen. Fi had just snuck below to get Cress when the rain kicked in with full force. Pete wouldn't have any of it and quickly scurried below to seek refuge from the torrential downpour...and to get me a raincoat which was EVENTUALLY delivered! The wind picked up, the waves grew larger and choppier, and the helm incredibly difficult to hold in position. The boat began to take control, I began to shiver from the cold rain...and this is when the 30 seconds
of genuine fear kicked in!

I'm going to pause here for a second to explain a conversation (or friendly argument) that Cress and I have been having over the last few weeks-slash-months. Once or twice over the last three months I've noticed that the toe rail has dipped in the water as we were heeled over. Cress didn't believe me and said it hadn't happened, and gave me that "you're crazy" look as he explained the physics of it all. Well today I definitely saw this happen and more!

The boat began to heel like I'd never seen it heel before! Not only were the toe rails in the water but the teak decks themselves! I was sitting (or standing as it seemed) on the windward side looking straight down into the raging water below, the horizontal rain piercing my eyes making it near impossible to see the instruments as I fought the helm to keep the boat on course and afloat! For about thirty seconds I feared the boat was going to flip, capsize and submerge us all! My heart was pounding
and my mind racing through several solutions to keep the boat from heeling more into the water. I thought about letting the main out to depower the boat but again the lack of a third arm made this seem like a highly unlikely and impossible task. I thought of bearing off the wind to flatten the boat, which I found out afterwards makes the boat heel even more! Luckily enough for me and just as I had run out of ideas the wind subsided and the boat began to level out. The rain stopped and my heart
beat returned to a normal rate. It wasn't that bad after all and I wasn't the only one suffering! After the rain had completely stopped, a ghostly looking Pete peered through the companion way asking if it was safe to come up. He mentioned that fresh air would be a godsend as all of the color had left his face and he looked like he had just drunk a few bowls of Kava! After several minutes the color resurfaced and Pete was looking as good as new. He also assured us that the puddle in the nav
station where he had been sitting was caused by the rain...I'm not sure I believe him since all the hatches were closed and the companion way completely covered. Ah well, who am I to judge?

Now I'm sitting in the puddle at the nav station sipping on a coffee. The wind has left us once again and the engine will be turned on shortly after we tack and continue on our way towards Bali! The active route center says we've got 2 days and 3 minutes to go...but that changes every second or so. We'll get there eventually and that's all that matters!

Talk soon, Matt