Day 1: Friday, Arpil 4, 2003. It’s a wonderful 44^th birthday for Katie as the Interlude sails out of Banderas Bay, Mexico on her South Pacific Voyage. We are blessed by 15-20 knot winds, the best we have seen in our 6 months in Mexico. Spirits are high, but sea legs are yet to be earned and a loss of appetite slowly overtakes the crew and Katie is sleepy.

Day 2, Saturday, April 5: Second day out, still good wind but five foot swells on the beam make for more mal de mer.

Sunday, April 6. It’s the third day out. The queasiness still plagues Katie but a beer and pretzels at 10:30 am helps. Throwing the can off the stern reminds us of an old van we used to remodel the house. At the end of a day of hard work we would have a beer on the way to the dumps and just throw the bottle over our shoulder onto the pile of house debris. The cruising form of garbage disposal is similar: if it’s biodegradable (i.e. anything but plastic) it goes overboard provided you are a regulation 25 miles away from land. The ocean floor thousands of feet deep is a better receptacle than some small island where the local dump is someone’s backyard.

We are in a race to make the most of a weakening high pressure area and trying to keep ahead of the dying winds behind us. We seem to be holding our own with 20 plus knots of wind on the beam and Otto (our autopilot) doing his best to hold a course of WSW. With 6 foot swells and two to three foot chop the sea slams us to a 20 degree heel about every ten seconds. Between a lack of appetite and the isometric exercise of holding on this is proving to be the fat farm Kurt promised. At least we get to have a beer and listen to Deep Purple at 10:30 am.

MAL, our RioCar MP3 layer has proved his worth in gold. Too queasy to read, Katie is grateful for the 80 man hours of labor Kurt took to load our 800 CD collection into this 12 volt 60GB player. During night watches one of us stays in the pilot house with the other going below to sleep so playing the stereo is frequently one’s only stimulus (besides the constant motion of the ocean). We don’t like personal stereos with headphones because you can’t listen for problem noises (autopilot, engine, sails, etc.)

The fourth day, April7, starts with Katie’s 0300 to 0600 watch delivering variable winds between 10-13 knots resulting in our speed dropping to 6-7 knots and with the wind so shifty that at times we were actually sailing northwest! (Obviously French Polynesia is in the SOUTH Pacific).. At 0830 we roll up the genoa and unfurl the reacher and staysail, finally making full use of our cutter sail plan. Immediately we pick up half a knot and with stronger afternoon winds we are now back at 10 knots of speed. Luckily, we have been able to stay ahead of the wind vacuum behind us. Unfortunately this is not true for some of our friends that left Puerto Vallarta at the same time. We are continuing to make westing as the Inter-Tropical Convergence Zone, with its unpredictable winds and rain is still wide to the south. We are making about 200 miles a day.

No beer for Katie on day four as she is getting over her queasiness. Too much entertainment driving this incredible 74 foot sailing machine in 20 knots of wind and listening to Phantom of the Opera (did we talk about how great our MP3 player is?) Also, fat farm confirmed, Katie’s down about five pounds in three days.

A total loss of wind and at 0600 we furl the reacher and stays’l and start up the iron genoa. We motor for three hours making our way to the southwest. In the past we would hardly think twice about using our engine as Interlude’s is designed as a motorsailor and will motor at 8-9 knots which is top speed for most boats under sail. However, a harsh reality of the Pacific Ocean is that it is so dang huge (you can fit all the continents into it) and we just can’t motor the whole way for lack of fuel.

Another aspect of blue water sailing is the lack of other vessels. Our watch keeping along the coast was dominated by our desire not to run into anyone else, be it commercial or pleasure traffic. Since leaving Puerto Vallarta we have seen only 2 other vessels despite traveling some 800 miles off coast and both of those were commercial as we passed through the shipping lanes coming up from Panama. We participate in a daily roll call of boats that are making the crossing (called Puddle Jumpers) and the closest we have been to another boat so far has been 50 miles. Kurt says this is like being in space. Certainly you feel like you are in a capsule, unable to exit, and entirely on you own.

At dawn day five we pole out the genoa and start sailing wing on wing after finding some trade winds. We now have a more level downwind sail compared to the prior beam reach heel but everything comes with a tradeoff and ours is now the constant unpredictable rolling caused by swells that are not always from behind. You sleep by wedging yourself into a bunk with an abundance of pillows which works for about 15 minutes until the boat gets into a rolling frenzy and you are jolted sideways and rudely awakened.. Overall we are still making good time at 8 knots of speed so who can complain?

Our boat has become somewhat of a celebrity on the daily radio nets. We check in with the Puddle Jump Net and the Pacific Seafarers Net every day and report our position and weather. This serves multiple purposes including getting real time wind conditions from other boats and, importantly, keeping track of your last known position in the event you lose all communication Additionally, it allows our family at home to check up on our progress via a website that plots our passage. Usually most boats move at similar speeds given similar conditions but given our waterline (it’s true, size matters) and given our skippers racing history we tend to move at a speed of 50-100% faster than the rest of the fleet. This has elicited a lot of interest from other net participants and the net controller. One particularly funny reaction was when we dropped down to less than 198 miles on the third day and an anonymous participant offered his condolences for the fleet that we had not kept the 200+ mile days up.

Day six we see more of the same; 15-20 knots of wind allowing us to move at 8-10 knots still wing on wing. When the rolling stops it is truly a beautiful experience. Over 10 knots of speed the boat stabilizes and you feel like you are floating on a cloud. Unfortunately, then comes along a nasty cross swell that knocks the boat from side to side and you hang on for dear life. This makes cooking virtually impossible and Katie, the galley slut, is grateful for the four Domino’s pizzas from PV she froze that make an easy meal in the microwave.

This morning Katie tries to make coffee and it spills everywhere and she has to start all over. Coffee is not recommended on passages as our watch schedule with only two people on board is 3 hours on, 3 hours off, 24/7 for possibly three weeks. It is important for the off watch crewmember to be able to go to sleep immediately after their watch. Sleep usually comes easily but one is frequently awakened by the jolting motion of the boat. Therefore we average abut 7 hours a day of sleep in 30 minute increments. Some cruisers ‘put the boat to bed at night’ by reducing sail, slowing the boat down and hopefully creating a smoother ride. On the other hand this can add days, possibly weeks onto such a long voyage and given our need not to use fuel, if there is wind we tend to sail as fast as we can.

On day seven we jibe the main and genoa to port tack. With consistent 18-20 knot winds we continue to make good progress and with our new tack giving us a better course. We are about half way to Hiva Oa, our targeted landfall and are starting to enter the ITZC. Our first squall brings no wind shift or significant increase in intensity so we continue to carry a full sail plan.

Much of this newsletter so far addresses the mechanics of our voyage. Many of you will want to know ‘what we saw’. To this point in the voyage we have had 90% overcast skies and not a single sighting of wildlife other than a lost sandpiper in the cockpit and the boobie birds that take a break from their fishing to rest on our radar mast. The clouds have even kept us from experiencing what one would expect to see in sunsets. Of course, as long as we are making fast time we would take this as a tradeoff and enjoy our sunsets at anchor with a cocktail in hand.

Friday, 4/11, one week into the trip: Still seeing 15-20 knot winds. At 1600 we shifted the genoa sheet and re-taped the chafe hose to keep the pole from chafing through the line. Murphy’s law says that if you do not proactively examine your boat with a walkabout 1-2 times a day then the friction on gear created by the constant motion will likely cause some kind of failure between midnight and two o’clock in the morning. Luckily Kurt spotted the chafe before the sheet blew out.

Saturday, 4/12: At 0600 we officially entered the ITCZ with the loss of our wind. It was time to take down all sails and start the engine. The first of three squalls we experienced gave our decks a much needed rinse-off and with all the hatches closed, limiting our air circulation, we have a reason to run the air conditioning. Clearly yachting at it’s finest. Over the last three days we have progressively shed all clothing as the heat and humidity have risen. Occasionally Kurt throws on a Speedo if he has to go out on deck to make sure that nothing gets caught in the rigging.

Katie is happy now that we are making 7-8 knots of progress and she no longer has to listen to the sails banging about due to lack of wind. Unlike Reid Stowe, our intention is to reach land in our lifetime. For those of you unfamiliar with Reid’s goal, he is looking to leave in the fall of ’03 and sail NONSTOP 1,000 days to ‘define and conquer new realms of sailing achievement.’ (Yeh, like, smoke another one) He built his 85’ schooner, Anne, in 1976 and is currently refitting her at the 23^rd Street pier in NYC. She carries 400 gallons of fuel, 1,500 gallons of water (water-maker supplemental to his primary source, catching rainwater), 3,000 pounds of coal and 25 bottles of propane. He is currently going solo on this journey but is looking for a first mate (preferably female). His last first mate didn’t last. After a quick marriage, he and his new bride took off on a 200 day nonstop passage where they sketched the outline of a gigantic sea turtle in the South Atlantic with their wake. They claimed it to be the largest work of conceptual art ever created (whatever). For more information on Reid and his voyage see www.1000days.net.

Needless to say, unlike Reid we have not lost our sanity and are more than happy to motor if we have no wind, provided we have the fuel. One of the advantages of motoring is a chance to throw out our fishing line and at 1030 on Saturday, 4/12 our efforts were rewarded with a small tuna. Seared ahi over salad was the meal for dinner, a nice break from the microwave pizza.

On Sunday, 4/12 we wash down our tuna sushi with chilled sake for lunch. The wind picks up to 7 knots out of the east, allowing us to turn off the engine and do 4-5 knots on a beam reach. We may be out of the ITCZ - our cloud cover is gone with beautiful blue skies and we are seeing the beautiful deep blue indigo ocean color that Katie’s brother-in-law Herman, likes so much at sea. The air out here is wonderful. Despite 60% plus humidity it is so clear. No dust, no smog, no pollen, no smells. One would think that you would get that ‘ocean smell’ but that is more a function of the organisms attached to the shore than the sea water itself.

Monday, 4/14. It was premature to think we were completely out of the ITZC. We turn on engine on for another 15 hours and endure more squalls until the wind picks up again. At least the deck is getting washed and we still had one more meal of tuna left.

Tuesday, 4/15. We cross the equator at 0318 and being too early in the morning to offer Neptune any libations, we wait until noon to celebrate. Kurt, having already crossed the line in 1983and again in 1985 officiates as King Neptune with Bloody Marys for all. After thanking him for a safe passage Katie is hosed down to wash away the dirt/sins of the northern hemisphere. Tradition would have had her dunked in sea water but Neptune offered her the more comfortable washing. She also would have had her head shaved but as a compromise she shaves her legs instead. (Kurt, in his role as Neptune, appreciated this more). Katie’s indoctrination as a ‘shellback’ was complete with Neptune reading her nautical poems and singing sea chanteys.

Wednesday, 4/16. The wind finally fills in enough for us to pick up speed back to the 8 knot range. One gets frustrated when the potential of this boat is held back by lack of wind. (Maybe spoiled is a better description as 200 mile days can easily be the norm if the wind allows). We have had no uncomfortable moments with too much wind or wave action but likewise we have not seen the 30 knot wind we saw while crossing the Sea of Cortez. With that push we were consistently moving in the low teens. Now at 8 knots it might not be as thrilling a ride but at least we are content.

Day 13, Thursday, April 17. We are getting close to land. Depending upon whether or not the wind holds up we could be in Hiva Oa within 18 hours.

Day 14, Friday, April 18. The wind has dropped from the high teens to single digits, slowing our speed so no landfall today L . At midnight we give up on sailing and turned on the engine. Ironically we will add 20% to our engine time for a 2 week passage in the last 10 hours.

Saturday, April 19, 2003: Land ho! It’s Katie’s watch at 0500 and still dark when she spots Hiva Oa on the horizon through the fading moonlight and rain clouds. Amazingly after traveling 2,700 miles it takes being within 5 miles to see land at night.