There's not a lot of 4G to be found in the Pacific, so this is the first part of our retrospective account... enjoy!
Doldrums, tuna, and finding our sea legs
Tuesday 15th March 2022
Lucky Girl lifted anchor at ~2pm today after we did an epic provisioning exercise last night, highlights of which included me carrying a huge branch of bananas down to the boat taxi, on my head.
This morning I became the boat cheese-mule, rendezvousing with the local cheesemonger. I picked up 1kg of Cheddar, 1kg of Gruyere, 2 packs of Camembert and 4x750ml of Greek yogurt, all made from Galapagos cheese.
Wed 16th March 2022
It’s 24 hours since we lifted anchor from Puerto Ayora, Santa Cruz, Galapagos. We have travelled a grand total of 42 nautical miles, leaving us 2,963 to go until the waypoint we have plugged into the boat navigation system. This coincides perfectly with some maths lessons for the nephews… If we travelled at 2 knots, how long would it take to travel the 3,005 miles to our destination? 63 days really isn’t an answer we’re happy with!
The plan is to use the ‘iron sail’ just to get us to the trade winds south of the Galapagos and hopefully from there we’ll be on track.
Last night was Will’s and my first night shift. After a delicious dinner of spicy bean stew with roasted cauliflower made by the incredibly talented boat chef Helen, Charlie and Helen kindly joined us so we were doubled up for each of the 7-10pm, 10pm-1am, 1am-4am and 4am-7am shifts. Lisa and Helen took the first and third, with Charlie and Will taking the second and fourth. To say I was grumpy when Will woke me at 1am is an understatement. It was really very hard keeping my eyes open and so I did some stretching and physio exercises to keep me awake.
In the full moon I saw a lonely dolphin swim alongside us for 10 minutes before getting bored. The Southern Cross kept peeping through the clouds and Isabella (another Galapagos island) was shrouded in cloud and lightning storms.
Thurs 17th March 2022
I had a rather rainy 4-7am shift last night with so much cloud that I couldn’t really see the moon or the sunrise. The boys had maths at school today so we all participated in the mental arithmetic quiz. Helen baked bread for lunch. It was odd to smell fresh bread coming from the galley whilst looking out over glassy water. We lost all sight of land this morning and won’t be seeing any for some time. We have also lost our companion boat, Selkie, who, despite saying they would sail south, look like they are going NW. We also can’t contact them on the radio. Apparently this isn’t worrying.
Will’s second shift was the sunrise and he saw endless pods of dolphins, coming alongside circling, running away and returning, and of course, practising for the aquarium with leaps clean out of the water. One particular show-off jumped about 15 feet, straight up, off our starboard bow. Others seemed to be participating in a ‘who can make the biggest bellyflop’ competition.
But just for novelty value, his favourite visit was from the sea lion, who appeared a few metres off our stern- at first just his head poking out of the water, and then, with curiosity piqued, rose up on his back flippers, like a peering dog, sticking his head up over a fence on his hind paws. Sadly, Will had no treats to feed him, so off he swam.
I was very jealous of all this attention from the locals, so have requested the sunrise shift tonight.
Since there is absolutely no wind today, we stopped the engine after lunch and went for a swim around the boat. I used my rhino snorkel and did 1.6km. I didn’t stray too far from the boat in case I saw sea monsters (I didn’t). The sea was as flat as a mirror, and it felt like the world’s largest swimming pool. It was quite a surreal feeling, sticking your head under and looking down into crystal blue water, pierced by shafts of sunlight, extending down into nothingness. Then you raise your head, and scan the horizon in every direction. More nothing, as far as the eye can see.
That was one of the things we came here for. To see the world’s last great wilderness. To get a sense of perspective. It occurred to me a few days later (yes – this is a retrospective note: get your time-travel hat on!), around the midpoint of our voyage: we are almost certainly the only people to ever have been on this precise patch of water. Ever.
A mid-afternoon treat of lemon drizzle cake was just the thing to top off a perfect day.
It’s now 8pm. We’re now at 2,938nm to waypoint so another windless day of motoring. We’ll keep the engine going straight south for another day and see if we can pick up the trade winds going West….
Friday 18th March
An eventful day. I made everyone breakfast after my night shift and then started lesson prep for Friday Epidemiology school. We did a map of Soho and knocked on residents’ doors to ask them about illness and water usage a la John Snow. The boys said they had fun. My lesson was rudely interrupted by a tuna. Charlie has had a line out with a big squiddy lure for a few hours each day and today something bit! It was a beautiful shiny tuna fish that probably weighed about 6kg, if we had had scales, which we didn’t. It was pure muscle. Charlie hooked it out of the water, poured some alcohol down it’s gullet and chopped off its head. Helen was not impressed. Aside from her dislike of fishy smells on the boat, she pointed out that her detailed provisioning was shot to pieces by ad hoc fish.
Then Will was presented with a huge home-made crossword, as it appears he left his Times Jumbo Crossword on a plane in the Galapagos. It had many Pankisms (mainly Blackadder quotes) which were lost on me. We went for another swim after lunch but my gps wasn’t working so it appears I only did 300m instead of 1.2km. Helen and I did some repairs to things, like stitching on hooks to towels, tea towels and flannels, and we changed out the zip on the fin bag. Late afternoon we watched the first half of the Princess Bride which Helen has on DVD. The boys are very excited to finish it today. We added some freshly-caught tuna to the butternut squash curry for dinner and night shifts started at 8pm. Note to self – I need a nap in the day! I was exhausted yesterday after not taking one after my night shift…
Sat 19th March
We are now at 2,862nm to the waypoint, and 03.44 latitude. Still not much progress and still under iron sail….
Once the sun went down tonight, we saw a very bright star to our east. We asked the skipper, who whipped out the app, and it turned out to be Venus, with Mars right next to it, and Saturn and Jupiter beneath.
Then he pointed to the milky way. I’m trying not to get blasé about the stars out here. They're on show every night, all across the sky – a great theatre of lights, with names I've often heard but never seen. Orion’s belt, Betelgeuse, Alpha Centauri, Sagittarius... Being out here, you suddenly understand why people go on about the stars. Back home, they're this sort of overhyped fantasy. You spend 30 minutes outside wrapped in blankets, shading your eyes from all the light pollution, and then peer in hope more than expectation that you might be able to make out a constellation on a clear night- sometimes doing that thing where you look away from what you're trying to see, just to catch a glimpse.
Here, the sun plummets like a belly-flopping dolphin, and then pow: the stars are there, full throttle, laid out across the sky, with the milky way suddenly demonstrating how it gets its name.
Sunday 20th March
Around noon yesterday we finally left the doldrums. I finished my book – Kon Tiki – loaned to me by my work colleague Sam, and picked up the trade winds at about 04 degrees South. Since then, we have been speeding along at about 6 knots with a broad reach port wind of about 22 knots. While it’s super to be going faster, the boat now feels like a very good value-for-money fairground ride. Everything is creaking and banging. Trying to sleep is basically impossible, and it feels like we’re all going to die in the middle of the ocean in a little floating tin can. Did I mention that this boat was built in 1977? Charlie assures me that back then the manufacturers didn’t know exactly the thickness of fibreglass they needed for the hull so these early models are sought-after because they are slightly thicker than later models. That means that there’s about an inch between our heads and the Pacific Ocean. Yesterday and today have passed in a fog of seasickness and uselessness from me. I couldn’t sleep at all and fell out of bed despite putting up the hammock-type lee cloth to prevent exactly that. I had a little cry, gave myself a talking to and took over from Helen at about 1am and gave the watch over to Charlie at 3am. More non-sleeping ensued and it’s now 13:43 and I have managed to pinch about 2 hours sleep. I have started an Ian McEwan book called Nutshell. We got some very welcome texts through the satellite phone from friends at home – thanks Ben and Stephen!
We are now at 2,720 nm to waypoint and this wind is supposed to keep up for the next 5 days. I really hope I get used to it and can sleep a bit better this evening…..
Monday 21st March
Will and I slept a bit better. We converted the main table and sofa area into a bed so we can sleep at right angles to the constant rolling to starboard. Still not used to it at all. The fairground ride analogy remains. If the Panks weren’t carrying on like normal, fixing bilge pipes, replacing zips, cooking and making sure the kids did their school work, I would be constantly terrified. Will managed to eke out a lesson on the apostrophe for 2 hours this morning (poor 7 and 9 year old!). I finished Nutshell. It has been wonderful to read non-work material. I don’t often feel like I can do that. I made a frittata for lunch which seemed to go down well. While my boat cooking is nowhere near Helen’s, I’m giving it a go.
It's now 20:20 and we have just passed 2,500 nm and are doing a steady 7.5 knots. It feels fast.
