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#1
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Maine Passage - Day 6
[This message forwarded from their sailmail status report.]
Day 6 - Maine Passage Hello from the North Atlantic, at XXXN, YYY W, en route to Cape Cod's channel... Wow, what a start to Day 6! We got into the fish we'd frozen after our barbecuing it, having finally exhausted the chicken and steak we'd started with, and I had the most wonderful enormous Mackerel sandwich, while Lydia had a salad with her Mahi-Mahi. Channeling the Campbell's soup folks, Mm, Mm, Good! Ahh, the bounty of the sea! We are so blessed... Immediately after dinner, we were entertained by an enormous pod of porpoises, including some very young ones - not more than 3' long - who stuck directly to the side of what we presume was the mother(s). There must have been 20 dolphins playing next to us, for probably more than 15 minutes. What a treat, as they did their leaps and dives, along with the usual playing around in front of the bow. Not quite as satisfying as a cigarette right after dinner for Lydia, but a good second choice, she being no longer a smoker! But, the best was yet to come, right after dark. Our right-on forecaster had said that we'd have some squalls with gusts in the 30- 50 range, probably continuing through the night. Our radar pointed out the first of them as a couple of very large targets, and as we got a sudden lull, we figured they were soon to arrive, so I shortened sails a bit in anticipation. Sure enough, here they came, and the wind clocked around to the north and built swiftly. Not much in the way of lightning, and not even all that much rain, but what a ride it was. I stood at the left of the helm where I could see the wind gauge, and used the remote for the autopilot to constantly adjust as the wind ranged between 25 and 40 knots. We were entirely surrounded by yellow for the entire 6-mile range I had the radar set to. (I didn't see any point in looking further out as we were already completely enveloped!) I ran down a bit, to a broad reach - almost a run - in the gusts, and back up to a beam reach when the winds dropped back to the 20s. Flying Pig was quite a lady, as, during the constant mid-20s, when we stayed for minutes at a time on the beam reach, she stood up to about 10 degrees of heel, other than when a wave rocked her further, and we might as well have been out for a relaxing daysail. Totally comfortable, and with our enclosure, even dry. While it was a constant management of the angle of attack, it was otherwise a very lovely time, and the most fun sailing I've had for probably a year. Not at all "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride" but very entertaining, none the less :{)) Radar soon showed the largest of the activity to have left us, but the winds didn't die (well, they never "died") as the rain departed. The stars were out, but so was Aeolus, and we were quickly in the classic "15-20, with gusts to 25" set. By this time, I'd rolled out the canvas again, and managed to find the balance point which had her self- correcting, going down in the lulls and pointing up in the gusts. The oddity on this period - which lasted for hours - was that the wind constantly cycled between 15 and 20 knots. Up and down and back up again. Our relative wind went from 140 to 100 and back again as Flying Pig self-corrected, pretty as you please, and for the most part, again, Flying Pig stood up, rarely exceeding 10 degrees of heel other than wave-induced leanings (which also brought her upright in equal measure, of course). Throughout it all, we maintained a high-6 to mid-7 knot speed. Overall, however, as the wind backed around a bit, we worked our way back to just shy of 70 degrees west while charging ahead north. Chris had suggested we be very close-hauled, anyway, as we'd need the westerly set a bit later on, so that wasn't of import. However, our track on the chartplotter looks a bit drunken :{)) I took consolation in seeing the tracks during the America's Cup races which showed the best helmspeople in the world making a very wiggly track as they sought out the best wind. We're not racing here, and have the luxury of lots of sea room, which allowed us to run with it in the early stages. Those of you following along on the SPOT share page (but it only shows a 24 hour period, so if you see this more than that much later, you'll not see this bit of entertainment!) will see a big bubble to the east, later running back to the west... I'm still figuring out sailmail, with frequent occurrences of dozens of attempts to find a persistent connection being the norm. However, at 3AM today, I managed to find a goodie, receiving and sending and replying to incoming mails, all in the same session. However, to get there, I had a half-dozen connections which failed before the first bits of data arrived or were sent. My speeds are typically in the same range as the oldest of the modems, whereas mine is the most current software. I'm presuming that this is a product of the lousy propagation of high-frequency communications present worldwide, but it's still frustrating. My attempts to communicate over the net each morning with Chris Parker rarely even hear him, let alone he my calls, so I'm grateful that he's accommodated me in this particular leg by emailing me what we'd otherwise have spoken of (my subscription being SSB, not either stand-alone or combined email). However, at the rate we're going, this passage will be over soon, and perhaps I can get some professional help (YES, I KNOW - I've needed professional help for a very long time,and not just on SSB matters!) with my rig once we arrive in Portland... L8R Skip, Lydia, and Portia, the sea cat Morgan 461 #2 SV Flying Pig KI4MPC See our galleries at www.justpickone.org/skip/gallery ! Follow us at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TheFlyingPigLog and/or http://groups.google.com/group/flyingpiglog "You are never given a wish without also being given the power to make it come true. You may have to work for it however." (and) "There is no such thing as a problem without a gift for you in its hands. You seek problems because you need their gifts." |
#2
posted to rec.boats.cruising
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Maine Passage - Day 6
wrote in message
... [This message forwarded from their sailmail status report.] Day 6 - Maine Passage Immediately after dinner, we were entertained by an enormous pod of porpoises, including some very young ones - not more than 3' long - who stuck directly to the side of what we presume was the mother(s). There must have been 20 dolphins playing next to us, for probably more than 15 minutes. What a treat, as they did their leaps and dives, along with the usual playing around in front of the bow. Not quite as satisfying as a cigarette right after dinner for Lydia, but a good second choice, she being no longer a smoker! Really like reading your posts Skip... reminds me of my experiences with them off the coast... amazing leaps and twists, almost within arm's reach. They were with us for the better part of an hour. Also, good news about quiting smoking... bad juju that. -- "j" ganz @@ www.sailnow.com |
#3
posted to rec.boats.cruising
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Maine Passage - Day 6
On Sun, 3 Aug 2008 10:30:04 -0700, "Capt. JG"
wrote: wrote in message ... [This message forwarded from their sailmail status report.] Day 6 - Maine Passage Immediately after dinner, we were entertained by an enormous pod of porpoises, including some very young ones - not more than 3' long - who stuck directly to the side of what we presume was the mother(s). There must have been 20 dolphins playing next to us, for probably more than 15 minutes. What a treat, as they did their leaps and dives, along with the usual playing around in front of the bow. Not quite as satisfying as a cigarette right after dinner for Lydia, but a good second choice, she being no longer a smoker! Really like reading your posts Skip... reminds me of my experiences with them off the coast... amazing leaps and twists, almost within arm's reach. They were with us for the better part of an hour. Also, good news about quiting smoking... bad juju that. Second all that. Refreshing to hear some stuff from an ongoing sail instead of an immovable armchair. I have one of those already. --Vic |
#4
posted to rec.boats.cruising
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Maine Passage - Day 6
Hi, all --
....and then David T-G said... % % [This message forwarded from their sailmail status report.] [snip] Oops -- there was more coming, although I didn't realize it! Here's the WHOLE story. [This message forwarded from their sailmail status report.] Day 6 - Maine Passage Hello from the North Atlantic, at 39*48'N, 68*25'W, en route to Cape Cod's channel... Wow, what a start to Day 6! We got into the fish we'd frozen after our barbecuing it, having finally exhausted the chicken and steak we'd started with, and I had the most wonderful enormous Mackerel sandwich, while Lydia had a salad with her Mahi-Mahi. Channeling the Campbell's soup folks, Mm, Mm, Good! Ahh, the bounty of the sea! We are so blessed... Immediately after dinner, we were entertained by an enormous pod of porpoises, including some very young ones - not more than 3' long - who stuck directly to the side of what we presume was the mother(s). There must have been 20 dolphins playing next to us, for probably more than 15 minutes. What a treat, as they did their leaps and dives, along with the usual playing around in front of the bow. Not quite as satisfying as a cigarette right after dinner for Lydia, but a good second choice, she being no longer a smoker! But, the best was yet to come, right after dark. Our right-on forecaster had said that we'd have some squalls with gusts in the 30- 50 range, probably continuing through the night. Our radar pointed out the first of them as a couple of very large targets, and as we got a sudden lull, we figured they were soon to arrive, so I shortened sails a bit in anticipation. Sure enough, here they came, and the wind clocked around to the north and built swiftly. Not much in the way of lightning, and not even all that much rain, but what a ride it was. I stood at the left of the helm where I could see the wind gauge, and used the remote for the autopilot to constantly adjust as the wind ranged between 25 and 40 knots. We were entirely surrounded by yellow for the entire 6-mile range I had the radar set to. (I didn't see any point in looking further out as we were already completely enveloped!) I ran down a bit, to a broad reach - almost a run - in the gusts, and back up to a beam reach when the winds dropped back to the 20s. Flying Pig was quite a lady, as, during the constant mid-20s, when we stayed for minutes at a time on the beam reach, she stood up to about 10 degrees of heel, other than when a wave rocked her further, and we might as well have been out for a relaxing daysail. Totally comfortable, and with our enclosure, even dry. While it was a constant management of the angle of attack, it was otherwise a very lovely time, and the most fun sailing I've had for probably a year. Not at all "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride" but very entertaining, none the less :{)) Radar soon showed the largest of the activity to have left us, but the winds didn't die (well, they never "died") as the rain departed. The stars were out, but so was Aeolus, and we were quickly in the classic "15-20, with gusts to 25" set. By this time, I'd rolled out the canvas again, and managed to find the balance point which had her self- correcting, going down in the lulls and pointing up in the gusts. The oddity on this period - which lasted for hours - was that the wind constantly cycled between 15 and 20 knots. Up and down and back up again. Our relative wind went from 140 to 100 and back again as Flying Pig self-corrected, pretty as you please, and for the most part, again, Flying Pig stood up, rarely exceeding 10 degrees of heel other than wave-induced leanings (which also brought her upright in equal measure, of course). Throughout it all, we maintained a high-6 to mid-7 knot speed. Overall, however, as the wind backed around a bit, we worked our way back to just shy of 70 degrees west while charging ahead north. Chris had suggested we be very close-hauled, anyway, as we'd need the westerly set a bit later on, so that wasn't of import. However, our track on the chartplotter looks a bit drunken :{)) I took consolation in seeing the tracks during the America's Cup races which showed the best helmspeople in the world making a very wiggly track as they sought out the best wind. We're not racing here, and have the luxury of lots of sea room, which allowed us to run with it in the early stages. Those of you following along on the SPOT share page (but it only shows a 24 hour period, so if you see this more than that much later, you'll not see this bit of entertainment!) will see a big bubble to the east, later running back to the west... I'm still figuring out sailmail, with frequent occurrences of dozens of attempts to find a persistent connection being the norm. However, at 3AM today, I managed to find a goodie, receiving and sending and replying to incoming mails, all in the same session. However, to get there, I had a half-dozen connections which failed before the first bits of data arrived or were sent. My speeds are typically in the same range as the oldest of the modems, whereas mine is the most current software. I'm presuming that this is a product of the lousy propagation of high-frequency communications present worldwide, but it's still frustrating. My attempts to communicate over the net each morning with Chris Parker rarely even hear him, let alone he my calls, so I'm grateful that he's accommodated me in this particular leg by emailing me what we'd otherwise have spoken of (my subscription being SSB, not either stand-alone or combined email). However, at the rate we're going, this passage will be over soon, and perhaps I can get some professional help (YES, I KNOW - I've needed professional help for a very long time,and not just on SSB matters!) with my rig once we arrive in Portland... In all of the excitement of the squalls and yo-yo speeds of the wind, which, finally, did abate a bit at 4AM, being more in the area of 10- 15, our charging through the water yielded a marvelous phosphorescence. Aside from that you couldn't see very far into the dark, it might as well have been daytime, there was so much light coming from it. More of the glories of nature, more of the bounty of the sea, which we're so very privileged to receive. We're constantly reminded of why we did what most folks consider to be entirely foolhardy - sell the house(s) - Lydia and I had separate residences, our not being married until we bought the boat, and I mostly lived aboard for the refit - and give everything else away, moving aboard and making Flying Pig our home. I'm currently reading "Gentlemen Never Sail To Weather" and while I'm not very far into it, those folks were even crazier than we. They, too, sold the house and took only what they needed (the huge amount of spares being a notable exception; they felt, in retrospect, to have overdone that part), albeit regretting all the tin cans which quickly rusted (we had the advantage of having read of the difficulties with those, and so brought very few aboard). However, they made their first experience with their boat the equivalent of the Caribbean 1500, sailing from Morehead City to St. Thomas. His broken ribs earned during a storm aside, I was pleased to note that he, too, drove his boat, full throttle (we were sailing in a storm, but...) onto a rock outside St. Thomas. Fortunately for him, it wasn't in 10' seas, on a normally dry rock, and they floated off without much more than embarrassment. Those adventures which you survive make you a better mariner, in my book, despite the flogging we took for admitting the events leading up to our wreck almost exactly 18 months ago... So, there we are, merrily sailing along with the odd configuration which allows us to run up in gusts, and I am relieved at 6AM and climb gratefully into bed. I note that there's a seeming lot of groaning from under the bed, where Otto (our autopilot) keeps his muscle. Then, there seems to be an awful lot of heel. Granted, when Flying Pig comes up in the gusts, she leans a bit more, but as my feet hit the far wall I decided that I might better go have a look and see what was up. Turns out it was the sea, and the wind, both at the same time. After many hours of relative calm, we were back in the soup. Otto simply wasn't up to the task, and while we didn't take a knockdown, we were heeled more than this boat had ever been (sitting on the rock being a special case!). I gave him the morning off and grabbed the wheel, sliding down the very-much-larger waves, being careful not to bury the nose, and at the same time making sure we didn't try for spreader immersion on the alternate rolls! I managed to get stabilized enough to minimize the rolling, and while I played the wheel, Lydia let the mainsheet run out to relieve the pressure, and did the same with the genoa. Still keeping Flying Pig centered, she winched in most of the jib on the furler, and we commenced to bring back the main as tightly as possible. We'd been rigged for 25-30 knots, but here were 45-50 of them, all in one place, and the seas were building impressively as well. I had no interest in going on deck to shorten sail, so instead, we hove to. With too much main up, there's more heel than I'd like, and a bit more forward motion, but at least things are comfortable. We'll stay this way until things calm down, and we can start restoring the mayhem which resulted below. Meanwhile, we're giving up a bit of the northerly gains we made, but earning back most of the westerly slide we endured, so, perhaps after this small vacation, we'll be able to more directly proceed to our entry to the channel. Just as forecast, by noon, the sun was out, the wind had clocked around to the west, and Lydia sailed Flying Pig off her mooring so to speak, and we returned to our journey under lovely New England summer skies. The tradeoff is that we're doing a stately 5.4 knots - not quite the speed to which we've become accustomed. Ah well, at this rate, then, we'll be in whale-watching territory during broad daylight, not full dark,as it would have been otherwise. Of course, those watching SPOT in real time must have been scratching their heads over the very strange track this morning. Not only did it have this wierd belly in it, it goes off to the NW, wiggles around a bit, and then takes off on a dead straight line 45 degrees south of east before abruptly turning left, again, over 100 degrees :{)) Also as forecast, by the end of the day, the wind had clocked around to the NW,forcing us to pinch up to make our mark near the Boston Ship Channel. Still a very fair day, once the front went through, and moderate seas, has made for a very comfortable sail. If the wind continues to clock, however, we'll have to fall off, and tack, later. Even that won't be all that bad, as we'll have to turn to the NW after we make that corner, anyway. So,as our ship sinks slowly into the west,and the sun pulls away from the shore,as Spike Jones used to say in his Hawaiian Love Song, we'll leave you for today. The usual dance with dozens of no-answers interspersed with, "Hello? can you hear me now??? ... Click..." equivalents means that this may not actually reach you before tomorrow anyway :{)) L8R Skip, Lydia, and Portia, the sea cat Morgan 461 #2 SV Flying Pig KI4MPC See our galleries at www.justpickone.org/skip/gallery ! Follow us at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/TheFlyingPigLog and/or http://groups.google.com/group/flyingpiglog "You are never given a wish without also being given the power to make it come true. You may have to work for it however." (and) "There is no such thing as a problem without a gift for you in its hands. You seek problems because you need their gifts." |
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