43 Days Alone at Sea: A Journal (Week 4)
Day #22
I wonder if anyone will ever read this, and if so, I wonder if anyone is still reading this. A journal from someone alone at sea for 40 days can get quite weird…
At 2pm today my position was 230 miles east of Fernando de Noronha. I’m very excited about that because it means I have enough westwardly drift room without being worried about not making Cabo São Roque. In a couple of hundred miles I should get a slight southwest setting current, and less south in my east wind.
The wind has calmed and backed a bit, so Mara Noka has had a nice break from the past two days of beating. I washed dishes, a sign of a good day, and scrubbed down the galley. I also pumped all of the starboard side bilges, except for the bow, and hopefully tomorrow I can finish off port and the rest.
It may be slow, but I like this pace. Mara Noka has done a lot of sailing this year and it feels ready for a break. We talk about all of the pampering it will get on some Brazilian beach boatyard…
Day #23
The most peculiar thing happened last night… Before sunset a Noddy tern landed on the deck, after many attempts, and not being able to walk for being a seafaring bird, it settled in that spot.
Shortly after dark I heard what resembled a crow’s “caw” and looked out of the doghouse to see two birds fighting for a spot on the tiller. I figured this to be the first bird and another one, but a while later I heard multiple birds calling. I looked out and saw the black figures of 10 birds bobbing on whatever they could find to land on, which included the steering sheet, the cockpit bench, and the horizontal lashings connecting Mara Noka’s shrouds. Though it was dark and difficult to see, it was still quite the sight… If Mara Noka jerked violently with a wave, all the wobbly creatures would take flight and promptly try to land again, cawing loudly at one another if one would try to land too near another’s spot. This lasted all night. I slept fairly well.
In the morning I peeked out of the doghouse to find all of the birds gone except for the one which had landed first and who was still in the same spot on deck as I had seen it before sunset. It stayed aboard until nearly noon. I would have easily believed myself to have imagined all of those other birds in some sort of delirium or dream, after finding that the first bird hadn’t moved at all, but they left behind enough shit to confirm their existence.
Today, as it has for the past few days, Mara Noka sailed beautifully with the best conditions the trades can offer. I’m feeling more settled in the infinity of this journey. It is quite exciting, though, to wake up in the morning and check to see how many miles we covered during the night, and what my current position looks like contrasted against the giant of South America.
I am still sleeping with a timer set for every hour.
Day #24
Today was a good day, even though we made very little progress — moving at 3 knots, sometimes less, all day. The barnacles and this slack foresail really affect my speed when the wind is light…
But it was sunny and beautiful. I listened to music, set sails out to dry, and pumped all of the bilges. It was nice to crawl around the boat and admire its integrity. Mara Noka really is incredible. Sure, it takes on some water and is not totally weather-proof, but for a thin, plywood boat, it’s as strong as an ox. At least I feel it to be. I’ve seen this boat gushing with water through deck seams, and have heard it creaking and moaning while trying to maneuver over waves on two cracked beams. It’s faring much better now. I’ve heard a few new noises starting, but that’s expected after two Atlantic crossings since the refit, with no rest in between.
Reading Wharram’s People of the Sea has made me a bit nervous, as James notes Rongo and Tehini to be unseaworthy in a fraction of the time my 50-year-old boat still sails. Was Mara Noka built extra strong or am I just foolish and lucky?
I suppose four full Atlantic crossings, plus some, in the past four and a half years can give some insight into answering that question…
Day #25
I almost forgot to write, and it’s already getting dark so I’ll keep this short.
I saw the glow of a fishing vessel all night, and this morning I saw the ship itself a few miles to starboard. A couple of hours later, as I watched its progress, I saw what looked like the bare metal bones of two skyscrapers. I couldn’t make out what it was, as it was barely visible in the hazy horizon. We were some 250 miles off the coast. I took a photo through the binoculars.
Today I put up my Argentinian sail, I call it that because of its colors. It’s one of my favorites, and it’s making the biggest difference in my speed right now, adding almost two knots. I think it used to be the foresail of a Hobie Cat a couple of decades ago. I fly it loose footed and upside down.
I also saw a frigate bird today for the first time in years, and I slept and read for much of the day.
Day #26
The most horrible thing just happened.
I was laying in bed dreaming about finally baking the chocolate cake from the mix Laerke insisted I buy while in Cabo Verde. So I decided to wash all of my dishes and the solar oven, which I had used earlier today to bake some pumpkin, so that they would be ready in the morning. My plan was to bake bread first thing in the morning and the cake afterwards. While washing the solar oven, distracted listening to a podcast, I did something which caused the end of the glass tube to explode. I cried “no” out loud in desperation and shed some tears of disappointment. Just when I finally wanted my cake!
I am tempted to still try my luck at baking a loaf in it tomorrow, regardless of the blown-out end. With any luck, I might have my cake and eat it too…
Day #27
After today’s lunch of cheesy boxed risotto mixed with yesterday’s sun-baked pumpkin with a side of tomato, onion, feta salad, I took a quick inventory of my fresh food. I have one and a half cucumbers, one tomato, one red onion, two apples, some lemons, a plenitude of yellow onions and sprouted potatoes, nearly 30 eggs, and a melon that I’ve been waiting on to ripen since Porto Santo.
I never seem to buy enough fresh food, especially of the good stuff like fruits. And as many sailors have probably noted before me, “I should have bought more salt pork.” But I still have a bit left, as well as three more sausages.
As for dry stores, I have plenty, as well as abundance of cheese and wines intended as gifts. I also have about 45 gallons of drinking water left and an extra six gallons for showering.
I feel rich.
Day #28
It had been blowing pretty steady all night, and this morning it started nearing 20 knots, at which point I reefed the main. It has been a semi-squally day, blowing out of the east, and I’m told these conditions will last a few more days. The sea is super messy and the swell is quite large, some sets looking to be 10 feet. Because of this, it’s hard for me to hold anything higher than 245° at the moment without slamming the boat, and Mara Noka is my first priority, direction be damned.
I have a couple of options for stopping along the coast, with information coming from a 25-year-old cruising guide of Brasil, gifted to me in the Açores. But hopefully the wind changes to my favor before I have to do that.
It is rough out here. I have to believe this won’t last forever, just as my perfect sailing conditions of the last few days did not last forever. I just pray that the change does not bring a southerly wind. I trust that grandma is praying too.