Skip to main content

Sunrise

The light winds haven't let up, so we're still motor sailing with just the headsail up. With the breeze right behind us, and the Yanmar ticking over at 1700rpm, we're managing about 125-135 nautical miles a day without having to stray too far off course. It's been so calm that when I saw 11 knots of wind this morning, I actually thought, 'Wow, it's getting windy!'. Every now and again, there's enough wind to turn off the engine. If there isn't enough wind, we put the headsail away, but as long as we're still pushing forward, I'm happy.

There's a slight change of plans. We'll now be pulling into Samoa for fuel and water, and to assess the low-pressure system developing near Fiji around the 3rd. If the long-term forecast holds, we can leave Samoa and stay well north, bypassing Fiji and heading towards the northern part of Vanuatu. We'll then turn south as we get closer, likely stopping in Port Vila to prepare for the final leg, or Santo if the weather further south isn't looking great. Given how things are going, we'll definitely need to either refuel or dodge some more weather. Constantly (or borderline obsessively) checking the weather isn't making the long-range forecast any better. It seems those registration delays might have inadvertently worked in our favor, as the weather ahead, all the way to Brisbane, isn't looking too peachy, and we could have been a few weeks ahead of our current position. The forecast for the next 10 days means we definitely need a solid plan in place to avoid strong headwinds or worse.

The technology we have onboard now is incredible, and I have no idea how I used to manage. I definitely encountered far more bad weather 10+ years ago, but Starlink and, back in the day (i.e., 5 years ago), the Iridium Go have made things much more comfortable. Of course, the experiences of all the bad weather we've been stuck in have definitely helped improve my sailing, and it makes me wonder what will happen to people who have only had the luxury of Starlink and access to weather models when the forecast is wrong. The same goes for chart plotters – I'm sure plenty of people have never put a position on a paper chart. I told someone not long ago that not having paper charts on the boat made me feel a bit uncomfortable, and they said I sounded like a caveman.



Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Off We Go

The dream of a seamless yacht delivery aboard the Fontaine Pajot 47 seemed like a solid plan. However, life, with its unpredictable currents, threw us a curveball. My trusted crewmate was struck by the ever-present Covid! Even though he's as tough as old sea boots, it definitely slowed him down. The pre-departure days were a delicate balancing act. While the initial concerns about a sick crewmate were undeniable, a strong sense of purpose took hold. Provisioning, finalizing paperwork, and familiarizing myself with Namarie became a mission with Craig putting in 110% effort despite his 20% health. Constant communication with my recuperating crewmate ensured a smooth handover of duties, keeping the team spirit alive despite maintaining physical separation and wearing masks. Stepping aboard Namarie, the initial awe at her sleek lines and luxurious interior was palpable. However, the euphoria was tempered by a healthy dose of respect for the vessel's complexity. The sophisticated na...

Last 24hrs

This is our last full day and night at sea. Tomorrow, we'll be tied up in the marina in Tahiti , and I'll be turning off the engines for the last time. The main and headsail will be dropped and stowed away, and I won't be touching the sheets or halyards again. It feels peculiar to think that Namarie and I have kept each other safe throughout this incredible journey, and in a few days, I'll be on a plane heading home. On this yacht delivery Namarie and I started in the Bay of Biscay and headed south into the Atlantic, getting to know each other along the way. We made a brief stop in the Canary Islands, our last contact with Europe before heading further south and leaving footprints in the red dust of Cape Verde. We left West Africa behind and headed further west across the Atlantic, dodging hurricanes and grabbing fuel and provisions in the southern end of the Caribbean. From there, we pushed onwards through the Caribbean Sea to Panama and the canal. Pretty soon after, ...

Banana For Scale

Today, let's take a moment to reflect on the journey so far and what lies ahead. Forget bananas for scale – this adventure is measured in Atlantic crossings! We've already completed roughly one such crossing, getting to Cape Verde from La Rochelle. Another awaits us to reach the Caribbean, followed by half an Atlantic crossing from the Caribbean to Panama, and then… buckle up… two more Atlantic crossings to reach Tahiti from Panama! While traversing the Atlantic is a once-in-a-lifetime experience for most, doing it back-to-back is a whole new level of adventure. Thankfully, we have some incredible technology on our side: exceptionally detailed weather models that provide reliable forecasts up to 10 days out. Considering our average daily distance is around 150 nautical miles, that means we can see weather developing 1500nm in front of us and plan around that! We primarily rely on ECMWF and GFS models to track weather patterns. For the past 7 days, we've been closely monitor...