Yacht Delivery Blog

We're keeping a close eye on the weather forecast and preparing for a bit of a blow. The GRIBs all suggest that the wind will be southeasterly, which should make for a fast ride over the final 1000 nautical miles and perhaps we can smash the 200nm a day record. We're still on track to turn west by tonight and catch the wind starting to blow first thing tomorrow and bring it over the port quarter. The weather at the moment is fantastic, with clear skies, a few fluffy clouds, and 10-14 knots of breeze. There's no sign of what's coming around the corner. We're motor sailing to make as many miles as possible, which goes against my sailor instincts, but we're gaining around 30 nautical miles a day with the engine running. Yesterday evening, I found myself being hoisted up the mast again, an activity that's never pleasant, even in the safety of a marina. But at sea, with a partially raised mainsail swaying above me, the task becomes even more daunting. The upcomin...

As we make our way across the Pacific, it's hard not to reflect on the unpredictable nature of this journey. Last night we saw our first boat in weeks, and it came extremely  close, forcing us to change course by 30 degrees, and then its long line was almost directly across our path so we had to avoid that. Luckily the long line had a flashing LED on the end. With challenging weather ahead and a chain of atolls and reefs to navigate, I've decided to head slightly south to improve our position for the final leg of this 10,000-nautical mile trip. The southern end of the Tuamotus is a bit more spread out, and sailing slightly south will allow us to keep the wind further aft, giving us more options for our route as we bear away in a day or so when the forecast is showing a bit of a blow. While the electronics on board modern boats are fantastic and make my job much easier, they can also create a dangerous situation if something goes wrong. Not long ago, we relied on timing all arri...

Yesterday was a fantastic day, a stark contrast to the first three quarters of the trip. The wind wasn't quite as strong as I would have liked during the night, but the sea was flat, the sky was completely clear, and Venus was shining brightly during the sunset. As the sunset progressed and evening set in, all the other stars appeared, with Orion behind us and the Milky Way, the galaxy we are in, sparkling across the sky. Late yesterday morning, we decided to pull up the gennaker, even though it seemed like we were tempting fate after such a successful day. The sock isn't long enough to contain the gennaker, which was already trying to escape. With everything set up and ready to go, Adam stood by on the sheet while I started to pull up the sock. (I am not sure what you call the fiberglass 'funnel' on the base of the sock but it has already been a problem and fell off a few times. I thought it had been fixed with several cable ties. It looks like a shoe horn so we will c...

Now I'm under a personal gag order to avoid discussing the "watery wingsuiters." I've been racking my brain for a different topic, but it seems that once you've covered weather, waves, and oceanic aviators, there's not much else to write about. Yesterday, we put the clocks back another hour, so the sun was just lighting up the sky when I got up for my watch this morning. It's definitely a cheerier experience than waking up to pitch black until 7 AM. If we adjust the clocks again in a few days, Adam can also enjoy a sunrise, and we can arrive in Tahiti without being too out of sync with local time, and our body clocks won't be too disoriented. We spent yesterday motor sailing with light winds from around 120 degrees. We had the main, headsail, and a Volvo pushing us westwards with 10-14 knots of apparent wind. During the night, the wind died down to 8 knots apparent, so we dropped the main and continued with just the headsail until very early morning wh...

I've realized that the focus of the blog has been slowly shifting towards flying fish and clouds, and even the clouds have started to take a backseat. so I decided to refocus the blog back on sailing and crossing the Pacific. Until last night, when I came off watch and went into my cabin, I didn't realize how much of my day had been consumed by flying fish (or avoiding them). I immediately knew something was amiss when I detected the telltale perfume of my scaly little flapping friend. There was a flying fish asleep on my bed! I poked it with the BBQ tongs, but it wouldn't wake up, so I picked it up by its wing and threw it off the back of the boat. Now, my whole cabin and bedding stink of flying fish, and our laundry facilities are slightly primitive, so I've had to soak all the bedding in a bucket of soapy water all night. I've spent the morning washing the smell out of my sheets. I'm aware the blog has not done a great job of shifting away from flying fish to...

Yesterday my request for the wind to ease off wasn't specific enough. It died down pretty much immediately and it was supposed to be after midday, which was disappointing. As a result, our 24-hour run was only 186 nautical miles, which is still impressive but not quite the 200 nautical miles I was dreaming of. We ended up motoring for the night with less than 10 knots of breeze, except for a brief burst of excitement this morning when the wind picked up to over 30 knots for a while. It's back to less than 10 knots now. We'll need to put the clocks back another hour as the sun didn't rise this morning until 7 AM. The day is pretty dreary so far, with a gray sky and drizzle. Hopefully, it will clear up soon. I'm also hoping the sea state will allow me to take the lid off the water barrels and pump fuel into the tanks this morning without spilling any. We also had a very exciting encounter yesterday: we spotted a ship, not with our eyes but on the AIS! It's the fir...

This is shaping up to be the windiest Pacific crossing I've ever experienced. The wind is consistently blowing in the mid-to-high 20s from the southeast, and we're sailing with a double-reefed main. With plenty of fetch, we're encountering some impressively large waves. The flying fish don't even need to jump onto the boat anymore; they just wait to be washed aboard by the swells. We managed to cover 98 nautical miles in 12 hours, so it'll be interesting to see if we can break the 200 nautical mile ceiling. While I appreciate the speed, I wouldn't mind sacrificing a bit of boat speed for a more comfortable ride. The GRIBs are forecasting the possibility of blue (no wind), green (light wind), and orange (our current conditions) over the next few days. So, it's a waiting game to see what unfolds. We still have a substantial amount of fuel left, so a few days of 'blue' weather would be a welcome respite. On previous passages, I've always wished for ...

It feels like we're on the edge of tropical conditions, with a mix of great sailing and calm seas on one side, and overcast squally conditions on the other. Guess which side we're on? I've also figured out a way to translate the weather forecast: randomly add or subtract 30% to whatever it shows. If the wind dies down, turning on the engine seems to make it start blowing again immediately, and putting a few rolls in the headsail ensures the wind dies off completely. Despite this, we've managed to average slightly over 7 knots for the last 24 hours, making solid progress in the right direction. The local population of flying fish seems to have exhausted themselves trying to get onto the boat, and the daily numbers on the deck seem to be dropping off. I had great plans of doing some serious miles with the gennaker, but the conditions aren't really suitable. Maybe we should have gotten the sailmaker in Cape Verde to put some reefing points in it! For any non-sailors, t...

Yesterday began as usual, completely overcast with 10-12 knots of breeze. Around late morning, it started to sprinkle with rain, and the clouds turned even darker. Then, suddenly, the wind picked up to 15-18 knots from the southeast, the clouds dissipated, and we were racing along under a stunning blue sky. We had a fantastic sunset with Venus twinkling in the west, which made the terrible weather we have had since Panama seem even worse. It was incredible to have a clear sky at night with stars. This is it! We're definitely in the trade winds now, and this weather is going to stay for the rest of the trip. You can see where this is going, can't you? I woke up this morning to a completely overcast sky, less than 10 knots of wind, and we're motor sailing. The one good thing is that we ran the water maker all night and filled the tanks to the top, which is one less thing to worry about. I discovered my vertical jump from rest is quite impressive this morning when I leapt to a...

The long-term forecast has taken a slight detour and isn't in agreement with its own forecast of a few days ago. We can now anticipate another day of lighter winds before the easterly trade winds kick in. Of course we now have to take this with a pinch of salt - luckily there is no shortage of salt on the deck. Thankfully, our blue water barrels will come to our rescue once again and guarantee we can make some miles with the trusty volvos pushing us in the right direction. The wind has dropped to around 5 knots, and despite a few stars poking through the clouds last night, we're still enveloped in a blanket of overcast skies. The light winds provide a much-needed opportunity to replenish our water tanks and, if we have time, to scrub away the flying fish scales that have adorned our deck. I even noticed yesterday a splat mark on the headsail where an overly enthusiastic flying fish had crashed into it. While we won't be setting any records today, we're making steady pro...

It's been a mixed bag of everything the South Pacific has to offer over the last 24hrs: from 4 knots of wind to 28, completely overcast to blue sky, southerly to easterly winds, its been main up, main down, engine on, engine off, and i have also had to deal with some very vicious flying fish. In a fit of rage, one of them almost made it into the saloon, and I was lucky to have the boat hook handy to help get it away.  We're currently motoring at about 5 knots with a light breeze thats useless for sailing and directly from behind with a rather lumpy sea, so I'm hoping either the breeze picks up or the sea calms down. It's also back to being overcast. At the moment we are making the best of it while the water maker is filling the tanks. We've also been calculating the complexities of changing the clock back an hour to get onto local time and how to adjust the watches so someone doesn't get stuck with an extra hour. It's been some tricky mathematics! ...

Yesterday, we only managed to cover slightly over 150 nautical miles, which is acceptable but not exactly deadline-breaking. The upside is that with some meticulous probing and the help of Adam's $300 carbon fiber selfie stick, I managed to retrieve the broken reefing line from the boom. My first attempt involved a dismantled broom handle extension, duct-taped to the boat hook, with a large shackle with the pin removed to make a hook that was cable tied to the end. This homemade contraption was about 300mm too short. With the selfie stick and the shackle, I was able to get the line to within a meter of the end of the boom but couldn't reach any further. Then, the Cosmic Supply Company™ stepped in, and I used one of the fishing hooks from the long line we got caught up in  attached to the selfie stick to grab the last bit. The wind for most of yesterday and last night has been hovering around 20 knots from the southeast, which is a great angle and has us rocketing along. Though...

As expected, yesterday's run was 173 nautical miles, which is really good but not quite the 200 nautical mile target I had set. Part of the reason for this is a couple of hiccups yesterday that cost us some miles while we figured out solutions. Unfortunately, the water maker doesn't produce water when sailing with the wind on this side (port). Unsure if that was the culprit, we had to bleed both sides of the system (fresh and salt) and keep trying it to see what happened. I then motored directly downwind and also sailed with the wind on the other side to see if that changed anything, and it seemed to work. Then, around midnight, the reefing line chafed through, keeping me up for a while to deal with that. The wind died off around 3 am, so we've been motoring further downwind while we make some water. Luckily, we have plenty of diesel! Even though yesterday turned into a bit of a palaver, morale remains high and we keep making steady progress. I try not to look at the miles ...

We had a great day sailing yesterday, with some very accommodating winds giving us a nice push. I was hoping to smash the 200 nautical mile a day barrier. We did 95 in 12 hours, but the wind eased off around 2 am, so I'm expecting our 24-hour run to be around 175 nautical miles. Not too shabby, but it would be nice to be cracking out 200 a day. I had a couple of near misses with flying fish last night. While I was standing in the cockpit, one came whizzing towards me, hit the coach roof, and shot past my ear. Another huge one crashed into the coaming below, giving me a huge fright right next to me. Other than that, I don't have much to report. I had left the clothes, a shirt, and shorts I jumped overboard in to soak in a bucket of water to get the salt out. Unfortunately, it was left right at the bottom of the steps into my cabin, and I stepped in it last night on my way to bed, soaking my only pair of socks. Things are warming up, but it's still not tropical, so a dry sock...

We've been making great progress, which I suspect you can see on the tracker . I had hoped to smash the 180 nautical mile barrier in the last 24 hours. We managed 90 nautical miles in 12 hours, but the average dropped during the very early morning. Conditions are perfect, and we've picked up a solid southeast breeze hovering around 13 knots, giving us a great push in the right direction. The long-term weather forecast suggests we can expect to keep this breeze for at least the next ten days. It's completely overcast again this morning, but yesterday we started to see some blue skies and fluffy clouds, the kind of weather you'd expect with the trade winds . We're still seeing fishing boats from China and Korea, harvesting whatever they can from the rich waters of the Galapagos. And these aren't small boats – they're over 60 meters, so their appetite is huge.  We haven't had any splashes on deck, and there are only occasional whitecaps, so I had my hatch o...

We’ve made great time yesterday, with an average 24-hour run that will be over 150 nautical miles, I will need to check at midday. We had a nice breeze for most of the day, steadily sitting at around 7.5 knots with 12-14 knots of breeze on the beam. The wind died off during the evening, so we dropped the sails and carried on motoring. There were a lot of fishing boats last night, not compared to Asian standards, but we could see six or eight at once, which seems like a lot for the Pacific. Presumably, they're local boats from the Galapagos. They had no AIS or visible navigation lights other than large white lights they used for fishing. I woke up for my watch just before sunrise, and Adam handed over to me and went to bed. I did a quick check of the instruments and surroundings before putting the kettle on. I then followed with my usual morning routine of chanting internally “COME ON!!! WHYS IT TAKING SO LONG????!! HURRY UP!!!” while staring at the kettle. Standing in the galley lo...

Here’s some news: it’s absolutely freezing here! I’m wearing jeans, socks, a long-sleeve shirt, and a (thin) fleece jacket, and I’ve even dug out the blanket I was using in France to sleep under. That’s how cold it is on the equator. It felt like we were in the Galapagos for far longer than one night. I wasn’t overly impressed with the clearing-in process. Nine people boarded the boat, all wearing shoes and boots, which wasn’t ideal. Then came the form-filling frenzy. After the forms, they took photos of the flare bag, the engine primary filter, engine water separator, jerry cans, and the steering position and I have no idea what they will do with this information. I spent some time organizing the fuel delivery while Adam dashed off to the grocery store. When the fuel arrived, we started the process of filling our tanks. Unfortunately, the pump only had one speed: maximum. So we had to pump into our water barrels and then use another great purchase from France– a submersible inline die...

A very brief blog - After days of motoring into the current, with the constant engine noise, crashing waves, and everything on the boat jumping around, it’s suddenly gone very quiet. The engines are off, the anchor is down, and it’s blissfully peaceful. We’re anchored in Academy Bay, Puerto Ayora, Galapagos! Unfortunately, this peace won’t last long. Very shortly, we’ll have a boatload of officials coming to inspect the boat and check us in. Immediately after that, we’ll start the process of arranging fuel, which I think is going to be a bit of a kerfuffle as it’s coming in cans, and I'm looking at getting around 1200 liters. We then have to grab some lunch, do some grocery shopping, sleep solidly the entire night, and get up in the morning for a swift departure.

With only 100 nautical miles to go until we arrive at Puerto Ayora, a town in central Galápagos, we’ve started to slow down to time our arrival for first light tomorrow morning. I’ve already been in touch with the agent to begin the formalities for clearing in and ordering fuel. Yet again, Starlink proves to be an absolute game-changer for this kind of thing.  Believe it or not, I finally had to put on a long-sleeve top last night! It seems to be getting colder the closer we get to the equator! It remains completely overcast and drizzling, so it's no surprise the seabirds have decided to hitch a ride.Their preferred place to relax seems to be the worst spot on the boat. They like being right at the front where the motion is strongest and then stand on the lifelines, which are 6mm stainless steel wire. It looks exhausting trying to hang on with webbed feet, getting covered in spray, and trying to balance while you’re asleep. They must know something I don’t. Perhaps they know if the...

It's anything but tropical out here. The sky is completely overcast, and everything looks gray and miserable. The wind is hovering around the mid-20s, with the apparent wind a bit higher, and occaisional rain. We've got the main sail reefed and are motor sailing, and most of the time we can point directly towards the Galapagos with the apparent wind around 30 degrees. We did have a brief moment of disappointment last night when we had to bear away 20 degrees, but the wind came back south about an hour later. With less than 300 nautical miles to go, we're hoping to arrive early Tuesday morning. To make up for lost time, we plan to leave within 24 hours. We just need to get fuel and a few provisions, which shouldn't be too difficult. I'm hoping they can bring fuel drums to the boat and pump it directly into our tanks. We've had a couple of uninvited guests in the last two days, though not as many as I expected for this area. Some of them didn't survive the enc...

There’s been a slight improvement in conditions. The current has eased off a bit and changed direction slightly, which is a small victory. Unfortunately, the wind hasn’t died down as predicted, but it has dropped a few knots and shifted a bit south, sitting at 18 knots apparent. The time between waves has increased and they are noticeably smaller, which is also a positive. All these small changes have added up to a bigger win. We're now able to point the boat directly towards the Galapagos and still be around 25-30 degrees off the apparent wind. With the main sail sheeted in tight and a gentle push from both engines, we're making about 5.5 knots - exactly the right way. Running both engines is a bit of a luxury, but it’s essential to make miles the right way while we have the opportunity.  With 400 nautical miles to go, it suddenly looks a lot more promising. Of course, I’m not getting carried away, as things can change quickly out here. But for now, I'll take this small w...

For those of you who aren’t sailors, imagine trying to walk forward while someone is pushing you sideways. That's kind of what we're dealing with. Since turning the corner off the coast of Ecuador, we’ve been battling a combination of strong current and headwinds. The current is pushing us directly away from the Galapagos, while the wind is coming from slightly further south. Sailing directly into the wind isn’t an option, so we have to tack back and forth every 12 hrs or so. Normally, we’d tack around 100 degrees as we would be sailing 45 degrees from the wind and allowing a little bit for some current, but the current is so strong and pushing us so far sideways that we're tacking through about 155 degrees. This means that on one tack, we're actually sailing away from our destination, while on the other, we make some progress but at a snail's pace – around 100 nautical miles a day. And if we keep going in the "good" direction, that 100 miles quickly becom...