Monday, August 26, 2013
When last I left you, we were becalmed in the middle of nowhere. After a day or so of bobbing around, the winds came back. And increased. And increased. The day it was blowing 16 knots was great – no seas, Papillon zipping along at 7-8 knots. Then the winds increased some more, and we spent more than 24 hours with sustained winds in the mid-to-high-twenties. All of which would have been fine, except for two things. One: it was all upwind. Two: it was Indy's birthday.
Friday, August 23, 2013
Somewhere along the way
Erik read my last post and made a face. "Why did you say where we are?"
I looked up from my book. "Why?"
"Because we are making lousy time."
Erik gave me his patented incredulous, isn't-it-obvious look. I returned fire with my what-are-you-talking-about-you-crazy-person stare. (I won, because I have better eyebrows. Never underestimate the power of a shaggy brow in an adversarial situation.)
But I knew out what he was talking about. We are becalmed. And there is nothing worse for troop morale.
Tuesday, August 20, 2013
30 50.11 S, 173 28.07 E
Greetings from the open ocean! Papillon is two days and about 275 NM out of Opua, so this post is coming to you via the old-school magic of single sideband radio. Your correspondent gave into curiosity a few weeks ago and checked out marine satellite internet systems. After I picked myself up of the floor, my brain aching at the cost, I gave my trusty Pactor modem a friendly pat, and decided such luxuries as posting photos and checking failblog will have to wait until we return to port. As is often the case, low tech is happy tech on a boat.
Friday, August 16, 2013
Monday, August 12, 2013
|Wind, rain, and more wind|
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Thursday, August 1, 2013
Yesterday, Erik put a loving arm around me, put his lips to my ear and whispered, "it's time." A thrill went up my spine. Finally, we were ready to bed the backing plate for the new chainplate for the inner forestay. Erik stomped off to the foredeck in the driving rain; I grabbed my 11/16th wrench and climbed into the anchor locker. It was everything I dreamed. Aluminum filings rained down on me. Erik broke a drill bit. I smeared 4200 sealant on my favourite fleece with the skill of an infant eating chocolate pudding. I climbed ever deeper into the locker, trying to get some purchase on the [unrepeatable] locknuts. And throughout, Erik and I yelled sweet nothings at each other via the hawsepipe.
"Do you have it yet?"
"For crying out loud. What the hell are you doing down there?"
""I'm trying to get a nut onto a bolt that some idiot drilled too close to the bulkhead! So give me a minute!"