Day 16: Pacific Ocean Crossing to French Polynesia

Morning deck count: 3 flying fish and 1 squid.

Continued our progress south, steady winds 14-18 knots.  Our day went by with reading, watch shifts, naps, read alouds, weather checking, cloud watching, cooking, doing dishes, visiting.

People have asked me how it “feels” to be out here.  Today I am ready for land…just a moment to remain in one place, the world not rocking and rolling under one’s body.  Wait an hour and I’ll be back into loving sailing.  The emotions out here vary widely, from hour to hour.  There is anxiety and worry about upcoming squalls and possible lightening (that can fry electrical systems on boats).  There are moments of fear with big seas in the night (though only one night thus far thankfully).  There is peace with the moon reflected on the water.  There is wonder at a glorious sunset.  There is laughter with flying fish hitting us in the head.  There is pride and laughter with crossing the Equator.  There is homesickness of missing friends and our Petersburg life.  There is freedom of sailing this great ocean.  There is nausea, fatigue, and headaches.  Sometimes I want to stand on the deck and sing Moana-style out the seas; other times I just want to take a nap.  It’s all part of this experience and I’m trying not to judge it, but just live it and all the emotions it entails.

The ocean does not seem to have a smell.  The smells that I’ve associated with oceans before, I realize, are more the coastlines and smells of the coast.  The great open ocean, as much as I sniff and sniff, is fairly neutral.  I can’t wait to smell land again!

Saw scattered dolphins today splashing and fishing.

Night watch was mellow to begin with, as our winds died off and we motored for a bit.  Cora and I kept track of a squall in the distance that moved along out of our path.  Then the guys had a much more active watch with numerous rain squalls, tropical rain being a sheet (or bucket) dumped from the sky.  It is different from our home rainforest in Petersburg, Alaska.  Then Chris saw a straight wall of clouds ahead, going from one side of his screen to the other; no where to go but through.  More rain.  Then out through the wall of clouds into increased winds up to 23 and building seas on the beam.  The boat is moving right along, loud bridgedeck slap, and jerking motion; it’s a bit of a wild ride this morning.

Total miles over the last 24 hours:   113 nm

Average speed in last 24 hours:      4.7 nm

Total miles of trip so far:  1,977 nm