Category: Sailing

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My Next Destination

The last document you obtain as part of the formalities of leaving a country is a Zarpe. In the context of maritime navigation, “Zarpe” refers to the official clearance document needed to leave a country by boat. It’s a Spanish term that translates to “set sail” and is commonly used in the boating community. In some countries, obtaining a Zarpe is a requirement for legally leaving, and it’s often a document that needs to be presented upon departure from a port. As important, it is a document that is expected at your destination. I have obtained only one so far, when I left Mexico. I described the ordeal in a blog post. I am about to leave French Polynesia and I am working on getting my second. To obtain the Zarpe, I have to know where I am going. So, all day I have been giving that issue some thought.

To keep to my schedule, which is necessary if I am going to be in position to transit the Indian Ocean this season, I have to sail about as many days as I am at anchor. However, the number of days I am at anchor can be out of my control. For example, I have a punch list of things I need to do before I leave Tahiti that incudes a half dozen boat repairs. However, another time sink are the formalities … the paperwork. For example, It takes a minimum of one day to check into Tahiti and a minimum of three days to check out. Which brings me back to the issue of my next destination.

I published a proposed route last year. To help me decide my route going forward, I explored two issues: 1) how long does it take to get there and 2) how complicated are the formalities. Starting with the the time it takes to get places, I calculated the distances between destinations I am considering and created a spreadsheet. Calculating the distance between two points on a sphere is not simple. For that, we turn to Haversines Formula, where the Earth is approximated as a sphere. I used Excel to do the calculation, first by entering the latitudes and longitudes for the locations (using conventional signs for N/S and E/W), converted the degrees to radians, then transposed the matrix:

Note I have chosen to use the radius of the earth in nautical miles (3444 nm). Next I created the equation for the Haversine Formula in cell A15:

=ACOS(SIN($D7)SIN(G$4)+COS($D7)COS(G$4)COS(G$5-$E7))$B$1

Finally, I copied the equation into a 7×7 matrix, which was then automatically populated with the distances between the seven locations under consideration:

Using these data, I could compute the distance I would sail for various routes. If I assume an average 4 kt speed, I can then estimate the time I would be sailing. If I assume I’d spend about a week at each location, then I could estimate the time on land for each of the routes. The sum of these two would represent the total time. The difference between the total times for each route would be the time saved.

The first thing you notice is there is a difference between the first two distances (about 2700 nm) and the next three (about 2500 nm). The reason is the Cook Islands and Samoa are about 13 degrees S and Tahiti, Tonga, Fiji, and Vanuatu are about 16 degrees S. Going N 3 degrees and then ack S again (6 degrees total, about 360 nm) costs half a week in sailing. Second, you can save as much as a month by not making extra stops.

Of course, time is not everything. These locations are paradises. But, I would rather spend three weeks at one paradise than rush from one to the next. After reading about the Cook Islands (and hearing from a friend who is there now), it sounds like the formalities are a hassle. Samoa also has a reputation for a lot of paperwork. On the other hand Tonga is supposed to be very inviting and I am very much attracted to the 170 islands that make up Tonga. Visibility is supposed to be 100′ in the water. I would certainly save 2 1/2 weeks going there directly, and probably more realistically a month. Further, Tahiti is a great place to resupply, whereas the Cook Islands and Samoa not so much so. Finally, there is the fatigue factor of getting the boat ready for a long passage and making that transition from being at anchor to being at sea. My decision is made … I will be heading to Tonga next.

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Mal de Debarquement Syndrome

After an extended voyage, I have previously experienced the opposite of “sea legs” when stepping foot on land again … a sense of unbalance … land feels like a swaying boat and the boat feels stationary. However, I have never experienced the sensation for such a prolonged period and with such intensity as I have since arriving at Hiva Oa. There is a medical term for this, mal de debarquement syndrome (MdDS). I can only speculate that it was not only the period of time I spent at sea but the fact that the seas were particularly rough during most of the passage that have contributed to the intensity of the MdDS I am experiencing.
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In Constant Motion

 I had to laugh this morning when my iPhone informed me that my “number of steps” is down the past four weeks. The funny thing is my body is in constant motion. I cannot move around the boat without three points of contact, gripping things with both hands. My body is constantly swaying and counteracting the motion of the boat. Even when I sleep, my body is tense to keep from rolling. I feel like I am at the gym 24/7.

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Almost Loss Use of the Furler

I have been trying to figure out why my furling line is sometimes wrapped around the forestay, preventing me from furling the jib without going to the bowsprit and manually unwrapping the line. This morning I went forward to rig the whisker pole when I noticed something sitting on the bowsprit. It was the “ringer ring” (looks like a ring split down the middle with four fingers) for the furler. I quickly grabbed it before it fell overboard. The ring is clamped on with two screws. One was sheared (obviously the victim of crevasse corrosion) and the other was bent. Naturally the screws were unusual and I did not have one to fit it. However, the ring does not actually take much load, so I tightened the remaining screw and used some stainless steel wire to bind where the other screw should go. I will try to find a replacement screw in the French Polynesia. I’d I cannot find one, I will probably just drill and retap for a screw I do have.

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Progress in the First Week

At noon today, it will have been one week since I left Cabo San Lucas, MX, 2612 nm as the crow flies to Hiva Oa, Marquesses. I still have 1900 miles to sail (as the crow flies), meaning I have travelled (2612-1890)/2612×100=28% of the way. However, progress on the first leg was slow for several reasons. The winds were generally lighter than they are now (although I still have the ITCZ ahead of me) and I took a detour to San Benedicto.
My current weather model has me arriving in the Marquesas in two weeks, but I believe that’s optimistic. That model has me sailing almost due west until Thursday, then south (meaning several days of sailing are just to optimally position me with respect to the wind). At 60 nm per degree, I should move two degrees south per day, putting me at the equator about the middle of next week. As I get closer to the ITCZ, I will choose my crossing. (Non-dead zones open up and are different day-to-day). I’d really like to make the passage from Cabo to the Marquesas without ever turning my engine on.
On another note, I am nine degrees further west than when I left San Carlos, meaning sunrise and sunset are almost a half hour later. I crossed the Tropic of Cancer (northernmost latitude that the sun can be directly overhead) around the time I anchored in Los de Los Meurtos. I am also about nine degrees latitude south of that point, meaning the sun is becoming more directly overhead. Although it won’t be until I am near the equator, the loss of latitude is evident as the sun rises almost directly to my stern as I am sailing west.
I crossed a time zone near Isla San Benedicto (eastern Mexico and the southern half of Baja are on Arizona time, UTC-7), whereas I am now UTC-8 (same time as California and northern Baja). I will cross another time zone about the time I cross the equator (UTC-9). But, interestingly enough, French Polynesia (including the Marquesas) have their own time zone (UTC-9.5). There are a few other places in the world with one-half hour time zones (i.e., Iran). So, my trip from Mexico to the Marquesas will cross from the Northern (Spring) to the Southern (Fall) hemispheres and will cross three time zones.
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Measuring My Progress

When I left San Benedicto yesterday, I entered the coordinates of Hiva Oa into the chart plotter, the location in the Marquesas that I am sailing to. The question is, how do I measure my progress? There are basically four measurements:
1) The distance to the waypoint (Hiva Oa) as the crow flies (DWP), 2413 nm as of 9:00 yesterday.
2) The distance closer I am in a 24h period (DWP yesterday – DWP today). Since yesterday, I am 109 nm closer (i.e., the instrument now reads 2304).
3) The distance I sailed as the crow flies in the last 24h. Because of weather or strategic planning, I might not be sailing directly towards the Marquesas. In the last 24h, this distance is 110 nm.
4) The actual distance I sailed in the last 24h. I rarely sail in a straight line because the wind direction changes and the wind vane actually zigzags the boat. This is not a number that is easily arrived at, but was approximately 114 nm in the last 24h.
The second number effectively tells me how many days it will take to make the passage, assuming I make the same progress each day, which of course I won’t. 2304/109=21 days. Three weeks would be a good time for the passage.
The third number tells me what the average boat speed was over the 24h period. The “hull speed” of my boat is theoretically 7.5 kt. It rarely goes that fast. On occasion it will go faster if it is surfing on following waves. The reason the second and third number are the same is because in the last 24h I have in fact been (on average) steering a course towards the Marquesas. This will not always be the case.
The fourth number tells me something about the efficiency by which I am sailing. For example, how good I and/or the autopilot is keeping me on course. If you study the actual course I am taking, you will see it is more of a straight line during the parts of the day when I am awake and tending to the details of sailing. As a single-handed sailor, I can expect less efficiency than if other people were tending to the sailing when I was not. Basically, I sailed an extra 4 nm in the last 24h. Another way of thinking about this is I lost 45m. My actual average speed in the past 24h was 114/24=4.75 kt. Keep in mind there were periods during the last 24h where the winds were light and I could only make 2-3 kt speed, whereas other times I was close to hull speed. So, an average of 5 kt is pretty good.
{CAPTION}

Sent from my iPhone

Posted on

Measuring My Progress

When I left San Benedicto yesterday, I entered the coordinates of Hiva Oa into the chart plotter, the location in the Marquesas that I am sailing to. The question is, how do I measure my progress? There are basically four measurements:
1) The distance to the waypoint (Hiva Oa) as the crow flies (DWP), 2413 nm as of 9:00 yesterday.
2) The distance closer I am in a 24h period (DWP yesterday – DWP today). Since yesterday, I am 109 nm closer (i.e., the instrument now reads 2304).
3) The distance I sailed as the crow flies in the last 24h. Because of weather or strategic planning, I might not be sailing directly towards the Marquesas. In the last 24h, this distance is 110 nm.
4) The actual distance I sailed in the last 24h. I rarely sail in a straight line because the wind direction changes and the wind vane actually zigzags the boat. This is not a number that is easily arrived at, but was approximately 114 nm in the last 24h.
The second number effectively tells me how many days it will take to make the passage, assuming I make the same progress each day, which of course I won’t. 2304/109=21 days. Three weeks would be a good time for the passage.
The third number tells me what the average boat speed was over the 24h period. The “hull speed” of my boat is theoretically 7.5 kt. It rarely goes that fast. On occasion it will go faster if it is surfing on following waves. The reason the second and third number are the same is because in the last 24h I have in fact been (on average) steering a course towards the Marquesas. This will not always be the case.
The fourth number tells me something about the efficiency by which I am sailing. For example, how good I and/or the autopilot is keeping me on course. If you study the actual course I am taking, you will see it is more of a straight line during the parts of the day when I am awake and tending to the details of sailing. As a single-handed sailor, I can expect less efficiency than if other people were tending to the sailing when I was not. Basically, I sailed an extra 4 nm in the last 24h. Another way of thinking about this is I lost 45m. My actual average speed in the past 24h was 114/24=4.75 kt. Keep in mind there were periods during the last 24h where the winds were light and I could only make 2-3 kt speed, whereas other times I was close to hull speed. So, an average of 5 kt is pretty good.
{CAPTION}

Sent from my iPhone

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Sailing Single-Handed Without An Engine

I had been sailing for about a month, crossed from San Carlos to Santa Rosalia, and made my way slowly south down most of the length of Baja, about 400 miles. On March 26th, I was anchoring at Muertos in southern Baja (marked with the red X) and the engine stopped suddenly … on a dime. I immediately checked the temperature and oil pressure, and they were fine. I pulled the injectors and tried to turn over the engine with a wrench, and it would not budge. The engine was clearly not hydrolocked. There had been a catastrophic internal failure. The engine was seized. Considering my predicament, I decided it did not make sense to sail to La Paz to try to get the engine repaired. It appeared there had been an internal failure.

Without an engine, I had to consider a route back to my home port that did not require maneuvering in tight places. As a first step, on March 29 at 4:00 AM, I sailed for Isla Espiritu Sato. Not wanting to negotiate the Cerralvo Channel, I sailed east of Isla Cerralvo. About four-fifths around the island, about 16 miles from the anchorage (Bonanza), the island blocked the prevailing westerly winds and I sat becalmed for about four hours, The north current eventually floated the boat past the island. At the point there wind changed to the SSE and stabilized at 15 knots. The sea conditions were poor with 5′ waves from the east. I anchored at Bonanza at 9:30 PM. I note that my trip from Bonanza to Muertos a few days earlier had taken one-third the time.

The next morning, March 30, sea conditions were not ideal, but there were 15 knot winds from the south, so I left for Isla San Francisco at 8:30 AM, moving briskly at 6 kn with just the jib. While I tries to stay well offshore of Isla Espiritu Santo, I nonetheless got Becalmed about halfway across the island. Around 4:00 PM the wind build quickly to 22 knots, still from the south. I double reefed the main and shortened the jib, but still made the remaining 15 miles before dusk. I reached the eastern anchorage of Isla San Francisco just as it was getting dark. There were five sailboats and a powerboat anchored there. I radioed ahead for advice and was told there was room for me. I explained I would be coming in under sail. Over the next ninety minutes, I tried three times from three different angles to reach the anchorage, but the wind was howling through the notch that connects the southern and eastern anchorages that drove me off each time. Eventually, I radioed that I was abandoning my attempt to anchor and was heading offshore.

After fighting the ever changing wind and sea condition around the islands, I decided to sail directly to San Carlos. I plotted a path well offshore and sailed through the night in a close haul and an average of 22 knots of wind, at times surfing at 8.5 knots SOG. I sailed 60 miles between 9:00 PM and 5 AM (averaging 7.5 knots). I thought about anchoring at Bahia Salinas on Isla Carmen about midday, but upon looking at the weather forecast, I realized this would be the only chance I would have for crossing this week, as later in the week 5-6′ seas were expected. Thus, on March 31, Easter, I decided to continue the 135 miles to San Carlos. There was, however, a problem. I had been sailing about 24 hour since my last anchorage at Bonanza. Sailing overnight, I had run the radar and AIS to geofence the boat and used the TillerPilot, depleting the batteries to 65%. At 50%, the batteries are cut off to protect their health. My pattern had bent rely on the instrumentation and autopilot at night, dozing thirty minute intervals, so I needed power for the next night.Unfortunately, there was very little sun. In fact, the weather was very squally. To save power, I shut down all power consumption, including the instrumentation, radio, autopilot, and even the fridge. I broke out the compass and engaged the wind vane.

I dodged squalls most of the day, sailing 4-6 knots in mostly light winds. That evening, the wind picked up to about 15 knots from the NW and I made good time overnight using the instrumentation and the wind vane. Early afternoon the next day, April Fools day, the wind died down. At 2:30 PM, about 24 miles from San Carlos, I became becalmed. About 6:30 PM, right at dusk, I spotted a squall to the NW. About 9:00 PM, I reached the squall and rode it in to San Carlos. The last mile or two, dolphins swam next to the boat. I anchored at La Posada about 1:00 AM on April 2nd. I had been sailing about 65 hours non-stop.

The next morning was sunny and there was a light breeze of about 8 knots. I sailed around the corner and into the mouth of the Bahia San Carlos. Unfortunately, the wind was blocked by the shore at the point, and I eventually called a friend on S/V Infinity to help tow me in with their dingy. They also towed me in the next morning when Aegir-Ran was hauled out,

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Itinerary for the Next Month

After a near-perfect passage from San Carlos on February 29, Aegir-Ran has been in a slip in Santa Rosalia. On March 5th, I will start heading south. This is the plan for perhaps the next ten days (the waypoint in parentheses is from Breeding and Banister’s book “A Cruiser’s Guide to the Sea of Cortez“.

Santa Rosalia to Santo Domingo (BCS470), 38
Santa Domingo to San Juanico (BCS444), 47
San Juanico to Isla Coronados (BCS420), 20
Isla Coronados to Bahia Salinas (BCS404), 26
Bahia Salinas to Puerto Escondido (BCS351), 20
Puerto Escondido to San Marte (BCS277), 31
San Marte to Puerto Las Gatos (BCS251), 14
Puerto Las Gatos to San Everisto (BCS222), 29
San Everisto to Isla San Francisco (BCS201), 9
San Francisco to Playa Bonanza (BCS110), 29
Playa Bonanza to Ensenada de los Muertos (BCS030), 43
Ensenada de los Muertos to Bahia Los Frailes (BSC020), 46
Bahia Los Frailes to Puerto Los Cabos (BCS010), 28

March 7 – Caleta San Juanico: I anchored here about 5:30 last night. This photo was taken the next morning, the calm after the storm … it blew 30 knots most of the night.

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Anchored in Bahia Concepcioñ

On the last day of 2023, I crossed the Sea of Cortez from San Carlos to Santa Rosalia. Since then, I have made my way slowly to Bahia Concepcioñ, where I am currently anchored in front of Playa El Burro. This was my view this morning. Isla Coyote and Isla Guapa are in the background. My plan is to stay in Bahia Comcepcioñ until weather permits crossing back over to San Carlos. There have been week-long violent storms for since I have been here, sometimes with steady 20 knot winds and seas to 5′. Since I need to be back in the United States by the first of February, I will not procrastinate and instead take the next opportunity to cross. Right now, it looks like the 19th may be a good day.