“Do you want to go sailing in the South Pacific?” …”Yes”
“Being a yes person puts me in interesting places…like today. I’m sitting on a sailboat thousands of miles from home, counting down the hours until we set sail.”
In a media driven word, sometimes it’s to physically hold something. I love the idea of a polaroid because of its permanence and uneditability. On this journey I kept a journal and pasted each polaroid in place as I wrote. I tried to keep the essence of that moment to enjoy later. Below are my polaroids and journal entries. ENJOY.
Day 1 – In the morning we pushed off and were immediately met with choppy seas from a tropical depression that had been lighting up the region. It was cold, moody, clammy, and anticipation of what was to come clung to the air.
During the day we hung out, and by nightfall we settled into our watch schedule that we would hold until we arrived in Vanuatu, our first stop.
My first night watch came and I found some peace. Keyword “some”. This is a big ocean and I think I’ve got some feelings to settle into before I’m comfy. At least the moon was out so it wasn’t pitch black. I counted down the minutes until Tighe came up at 6am.
Day 2 – Well I woke up with a runny nose. Either I’m getting sick or the copious amounts of mold on this boat are getting to me. It’s everywhere. Every wall, cushion, nook, and cranny— I’m feeling trapped. I guess I know what chore I will be doing later. Cleaning up black mold. That’s all I have for today…
Days 3 & 4 – 600 miles in
I woke up and remembered it was Thanksgiving but kinda forgot to tell anyone. In international waters it feels like just another day.
In the middle of the ocean I feel like my frame of a day changes. It almost feels like you have two days per 24 hours out here. I start the day at 3am and stay on watch until 7ish, and then I sleep until I restart the day when I’m back on at 12-2 pm and then hang out til 6-8pm watch and then go to bed. Sometimes I like it. Sometimes I feel like I’m never going to settle into it.
We did have perfect enough conditions in the morning to fly the spinnaker, which was amazing. It felt like we were running instead of walking. Casually zipping across the ocean at 12 kts. Unfortunately it was cut short by impending squalls. They hammered us. Of course.
Eventually I clued the guys in on Thanksgiving- so Hyland cheffed up some steak a potato dinner. I’ll go to sleep full and happy tonight.
Days 5-8 Journal Entries
Today was our first of what I imagine will be many hot days.. Everything up on deck was hot- the wood would burn your feet if you weren’t careful, and the sun beat down 12 hours a day. It’s a lot for a northern girl. Thankfully we had a little sun cover to put up and take refuge in. It sadly blocked any and all potential cool breeze, but at least we weren’t getting scorched crazy anymore.
Tonight a big storm rolled in but actually didn’t whomp us for once. We were on the correct side for the wind to be in our favor. Soon we were flying with the storm clocking miles. It was exhilarating to be at the helm. Through this I finally learned how to anticipate and surf down larger waves.
(Day 6) I woke up to Hyland making spam and eggs. I’m not super interested in this option, but since it’s what we have I pretended the meat hunks were potatoes and eased it down.
I can’t believe it’s almost December. If we don’t leave the southern hemisphere soon it will be cyclone season.
(Day 7) we are within 200nm of Vanuatu. Yesterday we actually passed our first land of the trip- an uninhabited rock.. we were all slightly amused and glad to not run into it. Everywhere around us in the ocean was about 20,000 feet deep, and then there was this rock island.
Tonight we had our first birds come land aboard and saw our first boats since leaving Auckland.
(Day 8) This morning we made landfall, but it wasn’t super straight forward. We followed the entrance procedures of the coastguard but they didn’t have a dinghy to come out to meet us… which caused our customs process to stall out. All we wanted was to get off the boat but they couldn’t figure out what to do with us.
Eventually we got ahold of a marina manager and she let us park our boat at her dock (and boat up bar/restaurant) She helped inform the coastguard of our whereabouts, and they told her that we couldn’t leave the boat until they came… we sat for hours. Thankfully the bar tender brought us pizza and beer… 8 hours later we were finally checked into the country.
Sailing Journal Day 9
The first night back on the water had a sunset to live for, and we all felt the thrill of being back on the ocean.
By nightfall we had a big change. Tighe had fallen ill, so Hyland and I covered all the shifts. 5 hours on five hours off. It was so hot we really couldn’t sleep while off shift…so we were a little worse for wear.
During these hours the only thing we could do to cool the boat down was open the front hatch a tiny crack. Enough for airflow, not enough for water to get in— unfortunately during a gybe the Genoa sheet took the hatch cover right off—and dropped it in the ocean- never to be seen again. I was resting near the hatch and on the next wave, got doused with gallons of water.
This was a huge problem. With our course change we were now getting slammed by big breaking storm waves. But we needed to avoid some major weather coming in, so we had to hold our course.
With every wave that crashed over the bow, water poured into the boat. The even worse part was that our battery system was right under this gaping hole.
I set to work taping a garbage bag over the hatch, then putting a towel next and then another garbage bag. It wasn’t perfect and still leaked from the taped edges, but it slowed the water. Next I built a system to deflect the water from the battery area and down into the bilge instead. Losing the batteries would be catastrophic. Crisis managed, I went and talked to Hyland about more permanent solutions. We couldn’t think of any, but would revisit the thought during daylight.
Now just five more hours of watch and it will be tomorrow…
Day 10-12 pacific Sailing journal –
In the morning Tighe was worse, and our hatch problem was the same unchanged awful. We made the call to divert our course 24 hours and sail to the closest international port of Luganville on the Island of Santo.
We sailed into the evening and arrived well after dark. Customs was closed down for the day, so we poached a mooring ball- we would have to wake up very early to move off of it incase the owner wasn’t friendly.
The next day we woke up and quietly slipped off our borrowed rest spot and headed to customs. They gave us emergency clearance, and said to get Tighe to the hospital but the captain had to stay at the boat. So Hyland stayed with the vessel as the official captain of the passage, and I walked with Tighe to the nearest medical facility.
Upon arrival we were told there was no doctor and that we would have to go to another hospital. I left Tighe in the medical facility to try to figure out how to get him there. It just so happened that I saw an ambulance truck with the hospitals brand and waved them down. They agreed to help.
At the hospital it seemed more like a market- we were outside and there were chickens running around and triage was on a folding table. They were administering blood tests right there. At this point I realized we had no local cash to pay for treatment, so I left Tighe and asked some people how to get to the village to try my luck on finding some money. This sent me walking 30 minutes down a gravel road.
At some point a small puppy ran out and was following me. It wasn’t much of a bother, so I carried on-puppy following. Then I heard the ping of a metal chain and suddenly there was a huge dog charging out at us. I will spare the gruesome details.. but that little puppy being there saved my life. I took off running and didn’t look back with tears in my eyes knowing the puppy wouldnt make it.
Finally I made it to the village… I found cash and I also scoured the streets for a tool to fix the hatch with. On my last possible stop I found a single drill bit in a huge bin that would solve our problem. I couldn’t believe it.
Day 13 ocean journal–
Talk about hot. Every ounce of my existence is hot and sweaty. I can’t believe it’s going to get hotter closer to the equator…how?
We don’t have a fridge on the boat so all our water is room temp… which means hot-ish. Our ‘supposed to be shelf stable’ veggies are even starting to mold from the humidity. Thankfully Hyland brought plenty of canned meat, so we won’t starve.
The day was swelteringly hot, but tonight we got what I like to call ocean magic. It was cool on deck and the sky was crystal clear. The stars shown by the billions- so much so that parts of the sky looked hazy because so many were clustered together. We pulled cushions and a spinnaker up on deck and had ourselves a cozy stargaze that lead right into my watch. Both guys feel asleep up in the cockpit as we sailed off into the night.
As I scanned the charts for anything concerning, I noticed a note that read “caution pinnacle formations with unknown depth detected with lidar” I stood for the next hour squinting into the darkness. Finally we were through the area. Sweet relief. I felt pretty good tonight so I stayed on watch six hours. Any extra sleep we can allow our crew mates to get helps us all in the long run.
Day 14-16 Pacific Ocean Journal
We continue on through the heat taking whatever wind we can get. It is slow going unless we throw the motor on to clock some miles and charge batteries. We need to get north of the equator soon or risk more cyclones forming. We are getting deeper and deeper into cyclone season the longer we are in the doldrums.
At midday it poured harder than I have ever seen rain come down before. It was an amazingly refreshing shower. I even put some soap in my hair- my first proper shower in a long time.
Today we cracked into the canned corned beef. 2/10 not my favorite… but food was food.
Our nights have been absolutely gorgeous lately. Tonight was no different. Gentle rolling waves, stars a plenty, and bioluminescent plankton sparkling in the path of where we had just been. Ocean magic. I will remember these nights for as long as I live.
After a while I turned on an audio book. The scrawlings of Edward Abbey- his book Desert Solitaire. It was lovely. For at least one more night we had peace, there were impending storms North of us.
Days 17-20 ocean Journal.
A beating. There has been little good rest at night or during the day. Last night it rained and squalled my entire shift. By the time I got done I was frozen and exhausted. It seemed like the winds never stopped oscillating. I willed the time to move forward as fast as possible. I’m desperate for some calm weather. Any day now.
I woke up in the morning and the ocean felt like a dragon. We are the Prince and Guam (our next stop) is the Princess.
Today was equator day! We put on party hats to celebrate as we crossed. As the latitude hit zero we cheered and brought out a bottle of Champaign that we had saved for the occasion. As we popped it open and all took a swig we realized it tasted terribly of diesel. Some diesel from the tank had spilled out of the bleed valve into the bilge and had contaminated a bunch of our food and apparently the bubbly as well. So we did would any sailor would do and poured it out for Poseidon and Neptune. We then each threw a customary lock of our hair overboard and then it was back to business.
Day 21- 24 Ocean Journal
Well, I almost made it through a watch without a storm. After some glorious sleep I went up on watch at 4:30am. Avoiding the biggest storms was pinching us off course— so I had to be very deliberate about running away from only the blackest of black clouds. At 7:30 am my luck ran out. Suddenly there was a wind shift, calm, and before I had any time to react I got whomped.
Hyland came up on deck to help me. Talking me through the helm while he adjusted the sails. Sometimes a calm voice in a heavy situation is all you need to realize you have the skills. We bucked through the squall for nearly an hour, and then it was time for Tighe to come up on shift.
That’s how the days have went as we left the equator behind. Storm after storm we make our way north.
This holds true in the evening especially- but at night everything feels infinitely more fast and intense. Under storm clouds you can’t see anything, just blackness. Black in every direction. Our sailboat feels like it shrinks down to a tiny toy getting sloshed around. An average of 30kts of breeze and 3-4 meter waves hits different after dark.
When it wasn’t storming it was muggy and hot. Truly a character building experience! At least I have a handful of audio books that I’ve been saving for days like these.
North Pacific Ocean Journal Days 25-27
We are so close to Guam now (500 miles), but the weather makes it feel so far away. Big waves. Bigger wind. Biggest Squalls. On watch this morning the sunrise revealed big dark blue storm clouds highlighted with the ominous red glow from the “red in the morning sailors take warning” poem.
Not too long after I got whomped by a doozy of a storm. A classic morning. Sunrise, then whomping. I like to call it the ring of fire – when the sun comes there’s squalls in every direction and the hazy red glow of the sunlight. It’s like the storms know where our sailboat is and close in on us early in the day to remind us nature is boss.
(Day 26) Today the sun cover was my best friend. Even with wind it is still remarkably hot. I forgot to write about this a while back, but we lost an honorary crew member to the intense heat— our beloved solar powered fan that we purchased in Vanuatu. It’s truly a loss. We used to sit around the fan and turn it between the three of us to cool down. We mourned the loss greatly about 1000 miles ago when we’re were stuck in the doldrums. RIP fan. You were the greatest cooling device I ever knew.
(Day 27) LAND HO!
Guam was still very far away but we could see the cliffs and greenery. The closer we got the more beauty became apparent, and then it hit me. The sweetest flowery earthy smell I’ve ever smelled. When you are at sea for so long you only smell ocean and finally when you get near land you can breathe it in. Kinda opposite of when you go to the beach and can smell the salty air. We were just about into port when we saw a HUGE submarine surface right next to us, stay up for just a little while and then sink back down. I was shocked.
Upon our arrival we called customs to check in. The cleared us- and then an eccentric man name Stan buzzed out in a dinghy to show us the way to an unclaimed mooring ball. To get there we had to motor through a maze of shallow reefs. One last challenge before we could rest.
North Pacific Ocean Journal Days 28-31
After two short days we are leaving again. Water and food have been restocked and we made some repairs.
Today is Christmas and as a crew we wanted to celebrate before casting off for Japan. Christmas on Guam.. sounds like a funny holiday rom com. We did what any Americans would do- went to Dennys.
Then it was time. 1323 miles to go. We cast off apprehensively. The weather windows off the coast of Japan are not long enough to complete the passage, so we knew we would be getting some big North Pacific weather at some point. This would be our most trying leg of the trip. Cold, dark, and stormy.
As we were leaving Guam a squall immediately blew in. A parting gift.
(Day 29)
I was going to write off today as uneventful. I should know better. Tonight all within an hour our backup generator stoped working, our propane stopped working, and right as dusk fell Tighe and I looked up and saw a big tear in our mainsail. A meter wide. Our stomachs dropped. And then we dropped the sail as quickly as we could so it wouldn’t shred itself. Ooof.
(Day 30-31)
There’s a storm brewing north of us right now that we really don’t want to f*ck with.
The goal is to average about 5kts/hr so that we can tie in with the Typhoon (or whatever it is) for just one miserable day.
Tighe is the master planner on this. I hope it works.
This past 24 hours has felt like a washing machine. I think the ocean currents are mixing and waves don’t have a pattern to follow. It feels like the swells chooses to go opposite of the waves. Literally always.
North Pacific Ocean Journal- Days 32-36
During watch I often sit nestled behind the dodger. But lately it has been so beautiful from the full moon that I want to stand up and peer out at the vastness. Doing this I have to be on high alert because there’s random sneaky waves that splash up over the dodger at a moments notice. Getting wet now is not an option… unless you want to freeze. My newest watch position is to stand with just my eyes and nose peeking out above the dodger. Something about the crisp night air on my face makes me feel alive.
We basically bobbed in the ocean today covering a whopping 21nm. We prepared for storm sailing. Filling the gas, rigging the storm sail, resting. At 4am Tighe said full steam ahead. The storm was now close enough that we would plow through the narrowest section of it in about 24 hours. Like clockwork the heavy rain started. It was miserably dark. Even the full moon was shrouded by darkness.
When the sun rose in the morning it was the most blood red I had ever seen. The ocean was red, sky was red, even the sails seemed to glow. We were in for it.
As the hours ticked on we found ourselves in the thick of it. The storm was 2,200 nm wide.
It felt like chaos. Slamming waves, wind howling, rain so much rain. I took everything to believe it would pass. When daylight finally came again the waves were still enormous. At one point our whole 40 foot boat was on a wave. You lose your perception of size out here. Who knows how big that wave was. We are within 300 miles of Japan- could this be our last 24 hours aboard Matewa.
The storm broke and the glorious ocean stars and moon came out again. Feeling incredibly lucky to be where I was, I basked in it. It may be a while til I’m back on the ocean like this.
150 miles from Japan. Traffic is starting to pick up. Reality of this journey ending is imminent.
In the morning we had a smooth entry into Japan. We slowly took the main down and made our way into the port entrance. Japan. We were finally in Japan. It was life changing.
