Day 21 - ARRIVAL HILO, HAWAII

Day 21 - Friday 6/27/08

No wind. Motoring in a bright haze. 80 miles to go!

Breakfast: egg and pepper omelet. Lunch: Shared the last orange. Dinner: Last of the Mahi.

After a brief squall, the wind died last night, so now we are motoring at about 4-4.5 knots. We should arrive shortly after dark, but do not want to enter after dark with a strange harbor and the particularly tricky anchoring required at this bay, so we will probably hang well offshore until daybreak.

Beautiful sailing today, seas finally calm, flying our spinnaker and taking turns at the helm.

Addendum: As evening fell, we said heck with it - we are over this, and we are going in! It too forever to see Hilo's lights - saw nothing - no lights, no land, not even the 14,000-foot-high volcano until we were about ten miles away. Heavy cloud cover and a volcanic fog the Hawaiians call Vog.

We picked up the navigation lights without trouble, and motored quietly into tiny, dark, peaceful Radio Bay. We dropped the hook at 2300. It took us about 15-20 minutes to secure the boat - stow the chart, coil the lines, set the anchor lights. When we were settled, we poured a celebratory glass of wind and miracle of miracles! - when we set our glasses down, they did not move an inch! Life is good, God is great. thanks so much to all our loved ones for their prayers.

Days 19-20

Day 19 - Wednesday 6/25/08

Overcast with a few small squalls. 

Breakfast: Fried rice. Lunch: Apple, pickles. Dinner: Skillet fried potatoes, onions, turkey spam. Wind at happy hour.

We are still rolling around. Cannot wait til the day I can walk through the cabin without holding onto something, so I do not ricochet off the bulkheads!

Sad note. Horatio, bless his valiant little soul, fell apart tonight. A fracture in one of his metal parts (that Ken had patched with a hose clamp on Day 4) finally gave up the ghost when the hose clamp broke. Happily, nothing fell in the drink. We will try to find a tig welder in Hilo to patch him up.

It is too roll-y for Bob (wheel pilot) to drive (he gets confused in lumpy seas), so we will be hand steering all night.

Day 20 - Thursday 6/26/08

Drizzle though the night. Bright sunny day.

Last night pretty much sucked. Took turns standing one-hour watches to hand steer, sleeping on the off-watch hours. Saw a big ship in the dark heading our way from the NW, probably bound for Hilo. Ken called him on the radio, and he had seen us too and changed course to ovoid running over out little 32-foot Sand Dollar.

On one of my morning (daylight) watches I was blessed with an escort of about eight dolphins, who looked for all the world as though they were racing our boat. They would zoom up one side, cross in front of our bows, then re-group and zoom up the other side. One even took a huge leap that brought him four feet out of the water! They only stayed about five or ten minutes, but they were magnificent.

By noon, seas were blessedly calm enough for Bob to drive. There tiny (pinky finger sized) flying fish all over the deck.

Days 16-18 - San Francisco to Hilo, Hawaii

 Day 16 - Sunday 6/22/08

Sunny skies with lots of passing gray clouds and drizzle. Very roll-y sea state today. Still wind and wind. 113 miles noon to noon.

Breakfast: Katie, oatmeal and 1/2 orange. Ken, 1/2 orange, left over pasta salad and biscuits.

Lunch: Finished off the pasta salad.

Happy hour: Wine and almond nuts

Dinner: Jambalaya rice with black beans, ratel and saltines.

Very roll-y and lumpy today. Saw our one white bird again in the afternoon. Last night was lumpy too, so sleep was a little fragmented. As it was too sloppy to do much, we spent the day mostly reading, napping, listening to "Ben and the boys" and our radio nets. Adjusted sail trim a couple of times to gybe sails to opposite sides. (now main sail back on port, jib poled out to starboard). Quiet day.

Day 17 - Monday 6/23/08 

Gray squally day.

Breakfast: Cereal. Lunch: Ken, leftover jambalaya. Dinner: nothing.

We continue to rock and roll. It is too much trouble to attempt much more than reading or napping. Sometimes we sit in the cockpit when the sun breaks through, but the morning was full of rain showers.

We caught a 30-inch dorado on our trolling line! Ken filet-ed it in the cockpit and we sedged it up against the cold plate in the fridge. Alas! Too rough now to do anything with the stove and although we are not seasick, the constant motion of the boat does not make sushi seem appealing. Maybe tomorrow.

Day 18 - Tuesday 6/24/08

Gray rainy morning. 399 miles to go. Wind 25 knots.

Breakfast: Apple, saltines. Lunch: Fresh mahi, rice. Happy hour: 1/2 shot of rum with pineapple juice. Dinner: Fresh mahi, cold baby carrots, saltines.

Sand Dollar continues to role and corkscrew through the slop (boy is this getting old!) with Horatio valiantly steering her course. I was not looking forward to tackling galley duty with all this boat motion, but Ken must have been really hungry, because he dove right in and fixed a great lunch. The mahi was awesome. Had it hot for lunch and cold with miracle whip, capers light dressing for dinner.

More squalls on the horizon tonight. Although we had a nice sunny afternoon. Our fould weather gear is at the ready and we have already shortened sail to avoid any drama in the dark.

Days 13-15

Day 13 Thursday 6/19/08

Overcast, but less cloud cover; sun is trying to break through. Sailing on a beam reach.

Breakfast: Pancakes. Lunch: Shared beer and almonds. Dinner: Skillet cabbage, onion, corned beef.

Gorgeous sailing now. Beam reach with sails on starboard tack. Less than 1000 miles to go! Sea state calm, wind light, we are moving at about 4.5 knots. Clouds receded last night for about two hours to let us "ooh and aah" over a spectacular full moon. 

I washed my hair (today it was FU but not quite BAR) and we both took cool but tolerable solar showers in the cockpit.

Two msall birdie poops on the stern are evidence that we must have had a hitchhiker!

Day 14 Friday 6/20/08

Bright blue sky, warm temp. Clouds low on the horizon.

Breakfast: Cereal. Lunch: Last night's leftovers for Ken. Shared an apple and cheese and our last beer.

Dinner: PBJ on saltines with milk

74 degrees in the cabin. 101 miles noon to noon.

First day of bathing suits and sunblock. Kind of a bumpy ride today, but it is so pretty we don't care. Saw a squall behind us and breeze kicked up noticeably, so we shortened sail and got ready for some action. It fizzled out as it passed east of us, and it moved on south to die without any drama.

Day 15 - Saturday 6/21/08

Beautiful sunny day. Sea state a little sloppy. Sailing wing and wing again. 106 miles noon to noon.

Breakfast: Stove top biscuits, coffee. Lunch: Sardines, pickles, saltine crackers. Dinner: Pasta salad with tuna and capers and fresh grated parmesan cheese.

Bunch of birds today. Four white ones began circling the boat in the morning; I got nervous that one would hit the lure (we are still trolling - still no joy), so I reeled in the line. All four departed soon after, but one came back about 15 minutes later and spent 30 minutes checking us out.

In the evening a different kind of bird showed up and spent at least 15 minutes doing his best to land on top of the mast. The moving wind indicator up there made this a no-go, so he finally gave up and just sat down on the water.

Hot showers in the cockpit were very refreshing!

 

Days 10-12 - San Francisco to Hilo, Hawaii

Day 10 - Monday - 6/16/08 - Overcast cool - 1286 MTG

Still 95% cloud cover, but the breeze is up some. We are sailing wind and wing now, with mainsail out on the port side and jib poled out on the starboard side.

Last night Ken caught a 5 lb skipjack on his trolling line, but he gave the guy a stay of execution and returned him to the sea. He was a beaut, too! Too bad we forgot to take his picture. Ken dragged the trolling line again today, but no joy.

Good sailing today! We even managed our first (chilly) cockpit showers and afterward enjoyed some nice Merlot in the cockpit while listening to Jimmy Buffet. Life is good!

Day 11 - Tuesday 6/17/08 - Overcast and cool - Very lumpy ride - made 118 miles noon/noon

One of our cruising guidebooks says that by the end of the 2nd week we will be in shorts and t-shirts. We are counting the days!

Very lumpy today, so we are not motivated to do much - when we are vertical, we feel like we are in a pinball machine. So, we read, chat, nap and share some wine while we listen to "Ben and the boys".

Dinner is picnic style finger foods because of the ocean motion - cheese, crackers, pickles, peppers, sardines. Gourmet chocolate for dessert!

Day 12 - Wednesday 6/18/08 - Overcast, but with bright haze - Sea state calmer, air warmer, light breeze.

We are in shorts and T-shirts! Still sailing wind and wing; we are in the tradewinds now, so we will probably stay with this arrangement for a while. We could use a little more breeze to push us to our destination!

Day 9 - Sunday 6/15/2008 (Father's Day)

Overcast, chilly, Made 67-miles noon to noon.

The wind quit completely last night. This left us with the choice of rolling around in the slop and listening to everything bang and creak and clank or starting the engine. Ken chose the latter, so we motored from 0200-0700 while Bob, our auto-pilot, drove the boat. It was noisy, but at least we made a little progress and charged the batteries. Our solar panels and our wind generator ("Jenny") also help keep the batteries charged - actually, they do almost all the work. But with 95% cloud cover and no wind, they have not been able to contribute much.

We woke this morning to a squid on deck. We briefly considered calamari Ceviche, but were not sure how long he had been dead, so he was given a burial at sea instead.

A light wind had returned, so Ken flew the spinnaker again. We did a bunch of boat projects. Ken rigged his trolling fishing line, we cleaned out the junk drawer, and I stowed all the stuff on the starboard settee. This last bit means that now I have a bunk too!

We share a celebratory beer mid-day in recognition of our accomplishments. Yummy tomato soup for dinner.

Day 8 - Saturday 6/14/2008 (Flag Day)

Overcast, chilly.

Well, it seems to be all or nothing for the good ship Sand Dollar. Stuck in a little wedge of the Pacific High, we have lost our wind. Ken raises our spinnaker, a big parachute - light air - sail, to try and catch what little breeze remains.

Taking advantage of the quieter conditions, I decide to dig out the shampoo. Having lived in the same pony tail I put it in nine days ago, my hair is decidedly FUBAR. We sit in the cockpit, and Ken hauls up buckets of sea water for me. I dunk my head in the bucket and lather up. Two more bucket dunks to rinse, then I smoosh in some conditioner and bucket dunk again to rinse that. Last is a freshwater rinse from our solar shower. This is a 5-gallon bag with a hose and nozzle that lives on deck to get warm in the sun. It then takes 45-minutes to carefully comb out the snarls, but I feel so much better afterward.

Day 7 - Friday, 6/13/2008 1519 MTG to Hilo, Hawaii

Seas 8-10 feet, Wind 20 knots, Made 120 miles noon to noon.

Things are finally looking up! Seas and wind have both dropped. the improved conditions and last night's movie break lift our spirits so much that Ken is inspired to cook breakfast. Our first hot meal! Eggs sunny side up, with whole grain bread to dip in the yolks, taste finer than any gourmet meal either of us has ever eaten.

Day 6 - Thursday, 6/12/2008

Wind 25-30 knots, Seas 9-12 feet, 1592 MTG (miles to go)

Tummies feel well enough to read a little today, and we enjoy reading our emails from home, too.

We continue to make progress, and today we sea bird! (Suspect an albatross, to be confirmed later.) But slogging through these lumpy seas in these high winds day after day is starting to bum us out a little, so Ken decides we need a diversion. A movie!

We enjoy a hearty (albeit cold, but who cares?) dinner of saltines and yummy Campbell's Roadhouse Chili. then for a few hours we forget all about Mother Ocean while we laugh as Joe Pesci tries to rescue two "yutes" from their predicament in "My Cousin Vinnie".

Day 5 - Wednesday 6/11/2008

Blue sky, Bright sun, Wind 30 knots, Seas 12 feet

A little improvement, but basically the same. Although we are grateful for even a small break, we are beginning to think we are in the Twilight Zone. our friends and families will retire, grow old, and die, and we will still be churning around is this washing machine. The GPS says we are making progress, so we hunker down and pray for better days.

Tomato sandwiches again tonight, but minus the airborne vegetables. I am getting the hang of this, little by little.

Day 4 - Tuesday 6/10/2008 - 1815 MTG (miles to go)

Blue sky, bright sun, big seas

More of the same. Even the dauntless Horatio is starting to feel the strain. He cracked a weld and Ken had to patch him up with a hose clamp. I cannot imagine what these last few days would have been like without him!

Reading is not a good recreational choice when seasickness has been a recent malady, but we have Ken's ham radio for entertainment. We listen to a couple of maritime "nets" each day to listen to weather and hear reports from other cruising sailors.

We also, twice a day, have "Ben and the boys" - a group of Ken's ham radio buddies all over the country who get together on the same frequency morning and afternoon to shoot the breeze. ken cannot talk to them right now because one of the many waves that broke onboard splashed water into the cabin and the salt spray wiped out the microphone. But they are following our progress, and we can hear them talking about us. They are always entertaining - better than a soap opera!

We decided that we are getting hungry and are ready for some real food. Way too rough to cook; we decided on a tomato sandwich. It seemed like a simple solution but turned out to be a real challenge in choreography.

Remember those 12' seas? Well, the boat is like a bucking bronco, pitching, rolling, and leaping. Everything aboard that is not tied down or wedged in will move.

I plan my strategy. Bread first - shouldn't roll much. I lay the slices on a piece of non-slip matting to apply the mayo, I have to hold the knife in one hand and the jar in the other. If I set either one down, they will slide away and make a mess. So, I have no and to hold the bread while I apply the mayo. Tricky, but not impossible. I accomplish my task and move on to the tomato. Bracing myself, I slice the tomato into a bowl, which I set in the sink, where it can't escape. I apply salt and pepper without incident.

Pleased with myself, I go for the lettuce. The bread slices watch quietly from their non-skid perch, obediently immobile. I take the head of lettuce from our little top-opening fridge, peel off two leaves and place them on the non-skid beside the bread. As I begin to return the head of lettuce to the fridge, THE WAVE hits. Just as I begin to lift the hinged lid of the refrigerator, a huge wave slams the side of the boat. The lid flies open, striking me in the cheekbone, and the head of lettuce falls into the fridge. As the lid continues to snap up to its fully open position, the lettuce leaves on the non-skid see their opportunity. They leap gaily into the air and sail across the sink and countertop, airborne until they dive into the open fridge a split second before the lid slams shut.

Bruised but not beaten, I retrieve the lettuce, assemble our sandwiches, and we chow down without further incident. Whether because of or in spite of the effort involved, we both pronounce the sandwiches dee-li-scious!

Day 3 - 6/9/2008

Bright Sun, Blue-Sky, Gale-force winds continue, Sea state still 12-18 feet

This is starting to get old. Who named this ocean "the Pacific"?

On a more positive note, our seasickness is subsiding, so we enjoy a hearty meal of an apple and a few crackers and pretzels.

The washing machine continues to churn, and today is much like yesterday. Ken hauls out the laptop daily to send our position to YOTREPS, so friends and family can monitor our progress.

I've cleared one settee, port side, so Ken is no longer sleeping on the hard floor.

Day 2 - Sunday 6/8/2008

Bright sun, blue sky, Full Gale, 35-45 knots (Force 9), Sea state confused, 12-18 feet

Almost a carbon copy of yesterday. Horatio (God bless his flat little head) is trying to do most of the driving, but the sea state is such a mess that Ken has to hand-steer at intervals. The chaotic seas resemble a washing machine, and Horatio sometimes gets confused.

We manage to eat about six saltine crackers and a few sips of water, and spend the night on the floor again, rising at frequently intervals to take turns doing "360s" (poking our heads out of the hatch to look around us 360 degrees and check our course, look for traffic, etc.). I must say that the constellations are awesome. Our little Sand Dollar soldiers on under Horatio's tireless steering.

Day 1 - Saturday 6/7/2008 - DEPARTURE - San Francisco to Hilo, Hawaii

Bright sunshine, blue sky, light breeze in Sausalito (San Francisco Bay)

Departure day!

On the hook off the Sausalito waterfront, we'd had a pre-departure dinner last night of some awesome burgers that Ken cooked on the grill. After dinner we had rowed in to Sausalito, crashed the Sausalito yacht club (where we did not fit in!), and ended the evening at funky little No Name Bar, where we sipped brandies, listened to live jazz, and chatted with some locals before rowing home to our little ship.

We weighed anchor this morning at 0830, and by 0905 were passing under the Golden Gate Bridge.

Heading out the "Gate"

Although we had left Sausalito at slack tide, the last remnants of an ebb tide at the Gate met the incoming Pacific waves to produce some steep rollers with deep troughs. As we rode this roller coaster out to sea, we broke out our cell phones to make our farewells. But as we headed for the open ocean, the sea state was getting more boisterous, and we had to stow the pones.

After only a couple of hours of this we were both seasick; I was the first to fall victim, but since all I had had was coffee, I didn't have much to lose. I stuck it out for a while, hoping the fresh air would help, but Ken eventually sent me below to lie down in the part of the boat with the least motion, the cabin sole (floor), where I collapsed in a queasy, soggy, heap.

This was where I spent the remainder of Day One, rising from the floor only twice, to answer the call of mal-de-mer. My intrepid husband stuck it out at the helm, hand-steering much of the time. He managed to be sick only once, but I'm sure he felt practically as miserable as I did. Eventually he came below, too, and joined me on the cabin sole. Although we were both dressed in full foul-weather gear, he had been out there so long that he was shivering from exhaustion and hypothermia.

We pulled our sleeping bag over us and spent the night napping off and on, with Ken rising at intervals to check our course and assess the sea-sate, as our trusty wind-vane, Horatio, steered our sand dollar through the night. Oh, well. We will be dead soon and it will all be over.