Pacific Ocean 6 April 2010 08.4303N 123.6418W

We have good wind 15-20 knots still out of the NE, and it’s starting to turn more and more from the east. The dark cloud I mentioned yesterday seemed to clone itself during the night; there were lots more of them, and some actually released water on deck. But still no sign of the squalls we should be seeing around Latitude 5 degrees. The 100% cloud cover of this morning has lifted, and we’re now in a blue sky zone. With the steady 15-20 knot winds, and the sunshine at just the right angle, the water is dazzling with millions of little sparkles. We have not seen another boat since Isla Clarion, not even on AIS (our onboard system that tracks big cargo ships through the VHF). According to Frank, what you see as the horizon is about 15 miles away, so a cargo ship going 20 knots, can arrive at your position faster than you’d believe. With AIS not only can we see big ships 100s of miles away, but you also see their course, speed, destination, and if you’re interested, whether or not their cargo is hazardous. But since Isla Clarion, we’ve not even seen anything on AIS. When you haven’t seen a thing in days, it’s a challenge to stay on your toes and do your 360 degree visual scan of the horizon every 15 minutes.

There is a group of at least 20 sailboats out here headed for the Marqueses. The closest is about 400 nautical miles away right now (imagine no one between L.A. and S.F.) This group of “Pacific Puddle Jumpers” are loosely organized by a good sailing rag out of S.F. (“Latitude 38”). They have a radio network twice a day where anyone can check-in and “pass traffic” (chit chat with each other – many of the boats know each other from forums, or from meetings at various popular departure points). We just started listening in and participating in their check-in. We now know that there are at least 3 other boats out there with kids on board, so new friendships will likely be blossoming in the months ahead. And more importantly we can now track position and weather for all the other boats. Now that we have others by which to compare our progress – the race is on! There’s a good-sized cluster of boats ahead of us, and a good sized cluster behind us. Funny how the stakes for every decision are higher when there’s another human by which to compare. Now that we can see we’re the only boat to have “turned south early” the suspense of wondering if that was the right decision is higher. Many of the others appear to be heading to where the ITCZ is usually thinner and easier to cross (west of here), but currently looks a little fat to Frank’s eye. He’s been watching an easterly narrow spot in the ITCZ for days now, and while the cells do keep flowing east to west, this “thin” area just keeps reappearing in about the same spot; and a big fat cell keeps appearing between us and those other boats, and moving toward them. This morning on the radio a number of boats in the forward westward pack sounded like they were not enjoying their conditions at all, and the lines we’ve placed on our chart for each boat with a dot for each day, went from being long to very short. One poor soul was saying he’d had a 36 mile day ugh. Today we had one of our own best noon to noon rate at 156 miles for the day (average 6.5 knots/hour). Suspense is relative though. We won’t actually know if we’ve made the right decision for another week or so. If it was the right decision it could cut about 2 days off our trip (so instead of 20-40 days, we may be able to say 18-38). Not only does crossing at a narrow spot shorten your time in the doldrums, it also puts us at an even better downwind angle for the final leg through the southern trades to the Marqueses.

We humans are strange, one minute we’re all excited about getting ahead of the other guy leaving him in the dust “see ya”, but if we look back and see he’s fallen, we stop everything to go save the day. Or if he asks for advice we become super helpful. That shift from enemy to friend can happen so quickly. In Ben Franklin’s diary (required reading this month in Silver Lining Academy), he talks about befriending a rival who had spoken against his re-appointment as clerk of the General Assembly. Later, Ben heard that this gentleman had a special rare book in his library. He asked to borrow it, kept it for a week, then returned it – effusive in his thanks, and ever after he and the gentleman were best of friends. His maxim for this was:

“He that has once done you a kindness will be more ready to do you another, than he whom you yourself have obliged.

Pretty big schemer that Ben.

Well if we do arrive all smug about our great timing, I guess (if I want to make any new friends), I better find some good excuses to ask for help when we get to La Baie des Traitres. If it was the wrong decision, we’ll join them on the beach when we arrive and commiserate over a Mai Tai. Either way, I’m looking forward to the new friendships ahead. And really missing all of you we’ve left behind. Yes, it’s a little ironic that 10 days of That Blue and no people (other than our little family unit), get’s me thinking a lot about people.

Thinking of you, xoxomo