SAILING STORY

I woke up Wednesday morning not feeling well, which isn't a good way to start a 4 day passage. Apparently Mother Nature didn't feel well either, because the predicted 12 knots of wind turned out to be closer to 20. We had geared ourselves up for a smooth passage in light air, so I didn't prepare as well ahead of time as I normally do for rough weather. I figured I could cook underway and manage just fine. But so far this whole passage, we've been bouncing around in large waves, trimming sails constantly in the gusty winds, caring for seasick children, trying to get some rest and watching the weather like hawks as a cold front moves up from the south right in our direction. Crew moral hit a low Thurs night. I still haven't gotten over my sore back and headache from Wednesday, the kids were still sick and we had to make the decision to keep sailing as fast as possible to make land on Saturday day, or slow down to be more comfortable and spend an extra night sailing. I usually choose fast, but neither option sounded too good. I went on watch around 7 and everyone else went to bed. THe kids are sleeping in the salon on one side and Pete or I trading places on the other since the cabins are less comfortable in big seas. For several hours, gusts and showers kept hitting the boat as squalls went over. The windvane does a terrific job of steering and usually rights the boat quickly after a gust. However, as the gusts built to a solid 30 knots, the waves began to seem scarier and scarier every time we heeled over. Pete finally got up to try to adjust things to find not only an over powered boat, but an overwhelmed wife. After a few tears and some fearful whimpering, I figured my pain had gotten the best of me and I headed to bed. Pete reefed down to the main and staysail and calmed things down a bit for the night, even though we lost a bit of speed. We needed to average 6.5 to make Rarotonga in light, and we were just hovering at a dusk arrival by morning. The wind has stayed steady in the 20's all day today and we're going full tilt all day. Both kids continue to be seasick off and on, alternating with fighting with each other and asking for food. Cooking is a real chore in this weather, as standing up without hanging on is virtually impossible. I plant my feet apart, lean against the counter and try to rustle up something bland and appetizing for queasy tummies.

Tonight, Friday, I got some scrambled eggs made up, got the kids to brush their teeth and put everyone to bed by 7. I take first watch and was just admiring the most beautiful moonrise I've ever seen when equipment failure number three on this leg happened. We've had two block/shackle systems break, which Pete has now jerry rigged, one on the staysail sheet and one on the preventer. The moon is full tonight and it rose like the sun, bright yellow and lighting up the sky like the dawn. I sat down to watch it and began composing this e-mail in my head, in which I planned to praise the windvane, when "snap" one of the steeering lines on the windvane came loose. I'm sure Pete really enjoys hearing me yell for him in a panicky tone of voice while the boat careens all over. I did grab the wheel, but the compass light wasn't on so all I had to go by for a bearing was the big yellow moon behind me. I tried for several minutes to steer while Pete worked on the lines, but having never steered downwind in the dark in this much wind and seas, my first attempt lacked finesse. I suggested heaving to, so Pete could work on the stern in a bit more stable conditions. We took in the headsail, turned into the wind, sheeted in the main and effectively stopped ourselves. The main kept us pointed into the wind, so the repair went well and fast. A line had chafed through and needed to be reattached at the vane itself which involved Pete hanging completely off the back of the boat to reach. We got back on course and just began to heave a sigh of relief when Dolphins and Omazey came on the radio, talking about the cold front. We're just beginning to lag behind them and the reception on VHF was getting poor, so I heard a lot of Rob saying "cold front," and Jonathan saying "damn it." We switched to single side band and got in the conversation about the weather situation being changed from 10 knots out of the north to a possible gale.

Saturday morning--We made 7-8 knots all night and had relatively benign sees, so everyone got a bit of rest. Our ETA is late afternoon, which will hopefully give us time to get ourselves sorted out before any weather hits. The clouds have really socked in overnight with bits of rain. We've come far enough south now that the water has cooled off 5 degrees and the weather systems will be more affected by the lower latitudes. The other two boats are just ahead and will get in a few hours before us. They have both had their troubles on this trip too. Both have had leaks resulting in soggy beds and Jonathan hooked his pinky with a barbed fish hook. He had to dig it out with a scalpel.

Well, that is basically the long and short of our 3 1/2 day passage to Rarotonga. We're anticipating a lot of fun to make up for the discomfort and glad to have another 500 miles under our belt.

-Kellie

PS: we hit over 15kn surfing and the GPS shows 9-10kn quite a lot of the time. Average speed over the last 500 miles is 7.0kn. Go Imagine Go! Too bad we've not had a chance to try out the spinnaker, but I think it would not be the wisest move considering the wind, seas band forcast (and our lack of experience flying one). I'm wishing we'd changed from the big genoa to the yankee, but can't seem to get in the mood for a foredeck sail change.