On my watch tonight, the stars are out, with only 5%
cloud cover. I think that
this night, after two nights of squalls, I will have a couple of good
watches.
I need them!
Yesterday, we got back underway, with a reefed main and two in the jib.
Makoko
was going nice and easy, flying their repaired genoa in a nice 10-knot
wind.
By 1815, though, the wind had gone to 17 knots and Pacific Bliss
was flying at
9-10 knots. We had to take a second reef in the main so Makoko
could stay with
us. During my early evening watch, the wind had increased to 25 knots.
I was
concerned about Makoko, but she stayed even.
I awoke for my watch at 0300, having slept the sleep of the dead. This
watch
turned ugly after only an hour. The wind was a steady Force 6, gusting
to
Force 7-and just seeing that "7" on the multimeter sets off
a Pavlovian
response-shades of Voyage One! I was worried. The radar showed a squall
line.
I woke up Gunter. By 0445, it hit. Rain only, a false alarm this time.
On
Makoko, Claudie was on watch. She also had Jean-Claude by her
side. The rain
lasted about 25 minutes, but the wind had decreased to 12 knots, a Force
3.
Gunter went back to bed, although there were more squalls on the radar.
I
handled them all right, even though the wind increased to a Force 6.
I was
talking back and forth with Claudie, 3 miles behind. I felt so sorry
for them,
with only two on board to share the watches and all those problems,
whereas we
had three.
By afternoon, I had recovered from the two miserable nights, the smell
of
freshly baked Hawaiian bread was wafting through the salon, and we basking
in a
following breeze of 13-15 knots.
Jean-Claude called on the VHF. "I'm so ashamed of my boat,"
he said. "Usually
this is the perfect wind for Makoko, but now she is chugging
along at only 6
knots. Propeller drag, I guess, since it will not fold now. "
"We'll reef some more," I replied.
Gunter couldn't believe his ears. Jean-Claude had been so proud of
his Super
Maramu. Was he destined to learn humility along with patience? And what
about
us? What was God teaching us on this trying voyage? Patience, for sure.
Compassion for our dear friends. And love, for we do love them.
As our latitude keeps changing ever farther south toward Tahiti, even
Pacific
Bliss is changing her attitude. She is shepherding Makoko,
her former rival,
clunking along like a little old lady with button-top shoes, two reefs
in her
main, another two in her jib. She could take a 45-knot wind reefed like
this!
But she is also learning patience, along with a little dose of humility.
Yes, we are now headed for the Society Islands, and will skirt the
Dangerous
Archipelego altogether, rounding the westernmost Tuomotu island of Mataiva.
Makoko has now lost all of her forward power; she has only reverse
and
bow-thruster capability. We may have to tow her in.
A new gearbox has been ordered and will be ready for installation in
the
shipyard in Raiatea. The good news is that both yachts have dock space
reserved. That means electricity, all the water we want…civilization.
We
can't wait to be there!
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