on the nose

"On the nose," is a sailing expression for wind that's coming from just where you're trying to go. "Bashing" refers to the unfortunate situation of sailing into big waves, which is common with wind on the nose. A countercurrent is a current pushing you back where you came from. All of those at the same time, is called going nowhere fast. We're still 100 miles out of NZ, tacking, bashing, grumbling and commiserating with other boats around us. Picture switchbacks up a steep hill. That is how a sailboat goes up wind. Back and forth making slow forward progress. We're sailing in 15 knots from the SW, at about 5.5, but only about 2-3 knots made good. To add insult to injury, a 1-2 knot countercurrent is pushing us off our angle even more and pushing us back to Tonga. We're only tacking 120 instead of our usual 105. We're steering 135 degrees, but needing to go 195. Needless to say, morale is flagging and we're beginning to wonder if land is just a fantasy. Skip on Calliope and I have been joking on the radio about the crazy backwards conditions. The GPS hour countdown is actually going up and the usual wind and predicted currents are backwards. I think it's some strange anomaly to do with northern hemisphere boats crossing into the southern hemisphere. Joking is saving my sanity.

The fast catamarans that left a day ahead of us are in now. The slower boats that left with them should be in this afternoon. We've about given up guessing what time we'll make it in, but it had better be on Thursday. The wind is forecasted to stay from the SW and maybe pick up for another week or so. Wyndeavor has just left and the really slow boats are lagging behind by 1-200 miles. The current should go away when we're about 50 miles closer, so that should help a lot. Pete is a sailor at heart and tries every possible sail angle, sail combination and heading to eke out progress. We've used a lot less fuel than some, but when the wind goes light we sheet in and head into it just to keep us making at least 3 knots.

I've almost cleaned out the boat of all "banned" food items. No meat, eggs, honey, veggies or powdered milk are allowed. I hate to waste it, so we've been eating meat like mad. No one really feels like eating when it's rough, but at least I'm trying. The boat is a total disaster, with clothes, toys and bedding all over. It's been rough and cold, so we're all cooped up in the main cabin, hence all our stuff is here too. The foul weather gear has come out of the closet along with the extra blankets and socks. Ellie has made a fort out of cushions, which is keeping her busy and is less messy than cutting up paper Halloween decorations. I'm trying not to hyperventilate in the mess, and keep up with it as I can. Stuff flies around in the waves, and it doesn't take much to make such a small area cluttered.

"Jasp" is sailing nearby and we've been in radio contact regularly. This morning their engine died and he called to find out if we knew anyone that was technically minded we could call on the radio. Pete fessed up his diesel mechanic skills and they spent a good part of the day trouble shooting and eventually fixing the engine over the radio. It turned out to be an algae bloom in his fuel. The filter got clogged as the tank got emptier and the gook on the bottom got stirred up in the seas. Luckily, an easy problem to fix and maintain. It's a bit panicky to think of the next 100 miles with no engine. The wife has expressed her love for Pete and Paul though he might kiss Pete if we were a bit closer. Nerves are stretched, but a friend out here really helps.

Hopefully I can write tomorrow to say the long ordeal is over. We're much in need of some stillness, some running around and a meal out. I think we'll splurge on a marina for a bit with all our friends. It's forecasted to be rainy and cold in NZ for the next week, so a marina is the best bet for sanity. Ellie can hardly wait for bagels and nachos and it's occurred to the kids that there might be a McD's there. A bit of civilization won't be a bad thing.

-Miss you all and wishing to be there, Kellie