STRUGGLER GOES SOUTH
“I wasn’t scared the moment we lifted the anchor”
April 24, 2026
I’ve had this Friday as a hopeful departure date for a few weeks and we are sticking to the schedule! The morning is spent on land finding some last minute parts and extra meds for the passage (pain killers, tooth antibiotics, muscle relaxants).
We FaceTime family and loved ones. I find it surprisingly pleasant that today feels okay compared to the last few days with the nerves. Almost feels like death row? Just ready to go see the sea.
After just recently meeting my new crew Tim White, we go to the dingy and have a look at each other, smirk, dig our feet in the deep white Mexican sands and say a quick goodbye to land for the next month! This is a terrifying feeling..
Back on the boat we stow Snuggler up on deck and put everything away (we think). The excitement is shadowed by nerves and for the upcoming journey.
Lots of wind so we put the 3rd reef in the main and lift the anchor! The chain and anchor are removed from the bow for the passage and we are sailing out of the bay at 6 knots. We ease into this before letting out a sliver of jib.
What a wild night of wind and waves. Definitely over 20 knots of wind out here and waves that are between 6-8 feet. Lots of waves are pouring over the sides all night and the auto helm can’t keep up so we hand steer and are awake throughout the first night out of port. Thank goodness for the good foul weather gear to wear and stay pretty warm and dry.
I even get to try out my new to me foulie boots that were on the free table in La Paz. They are so fluffy and warm inside!
We have agreed on 4 hour watches.
4 hours on.
4 hours off.
24 hours a day.
This means for the next month I wont get over 3.5 hours of sleep in a row. We are “ON” for 4 hours then “OFF” for the next. That goes on for 24 hours a day until we reach French Polynesia. Off time is typically spent cooking, cleaning, writing, reading, and fixing the things we just broke.
“I’ll never be fully ready, so one must just go”
April 25th
On watch from midnight until 4am. Gnarly!
8am I wake up to a kinder sea state. 15 knots of wind on the beam and we are moving along at an average of 6.2 knots per hour. We have done 110 miles by 8am. Shooting for a 140 mile first day out!! We end up with a very ambitious start of 151 miles out of the gate (Probably wont end up beating that).
Side Note:
I ordered 2 new sets of sheer pins and a new tensioner for the autopilot a few weeks before departing but they never showed up from the United States. I was okay with this saying to myself “half of my orders from the states showed up”
The sails arrived fine and these $10 sheer pins got lost in the mail. This is an okay outcome…
So Tim is filing down homemade sheer pins for the autopilot motor. Says “good thing we start now and not when the autopilot is broken. This could take the whole trip to make these”
Quiet first few days spent not doing much except steering the boat, planning the route, and sleeping. I feel like when I’m not on watch sailing, doing dishes, cleaning the boat, or cooking, I’m just sleeping. All I want to do these first few days is lay in my tiny bunk in the port corner and sleep (I think this is normal during the first 48). I’ve always loved tiny little places to sleep and this is my favorite place to sleep on the boat. Close to the action upstairs but also feeling the water racing only a few inches below my body through the thin fiberglass floor below my bed.
April 26th
Quiet morning as I think Tim is still getting his bearings set at sea.
Game of Yahtzee and a good wholesome sausage and veggie on rice dinner.
Not much sleep tonight at all. It’s spent up all night with banging rigging, lows speeds, and the rolling hills of thundering waves.
April 27th
All morning we struggle to gain some southern miles as we Bobb along west. Very little wind and at 9am we decide to drop the main and furl in the Genoa. We set up the spinnaker and spend the next few hours moving along smoothly. Winds rise to 13-14 knots and I look back at the following seas. They look a bit mean for my aging, tender threaded Spinnaker! We drop the spinny and continue on with the white sails. I’m making decisions that look further into the future for the sails and health of the boat. Maybe a little bit too cautious for Tim but I finally get this feeling of being an owner/Captain that has the safety of both the rig and the crew on his mind 24/7. It changes a trip but its part of this journey. I’m not a young crew member who is stretching the boat to the max but now an owner that has to pick up the $800 broken pulley bill or worse…. shopping for a new mast..
Lunch is a tasty vegetable white sauce curry.
Afternoon is spent tidying, working on small boat projects, sleeping, and charting a long term path to Marquesas. Naomi Crum from Marlborough sends an email on the satellite phone with a few routing ideas to make it to the Doldrums this year. Thank Goodness for a solid land crew that can make sense of this big BLUE.
Struggler Salsa for dinner. We sea a score on the Yahtzee board of 395. Possible record?
6:30PM
We look NorthWest into the sunset and see a small land mass. We are passing 30 miles to the beam of Isla Clarion. The last emergency pitstop island before committing to the Southern Ocean. With one last smile and look at each other in agreement, we have crossed the ‘no going back now’ point and will sail into the night for French Polynesia. 12-14 knots of wind as Struggy purrs along past 6nm per hour. Feeling a bit speedy.
“Driest month we’ve seen in years, not a single drop of moisture! As long as we ain’t counting tears”
-DamnCoyoteChris
Darkness. Finally seeing clouds and nastyness in the air. No moisture or squalls but it starting to look like storms coming in. Excited to leave the deserts of the Sea of Cortez behind searching for lush mountains and waterfalls of the South Pacific.
6PM-10PM was one of the best shifts of the passage so far. Alone in the cockpit racing over the ocean. It’s finally becoming a reality that years of planning is happening. Feeling excited now to finally think and read more about Marquesas, Toamotus, French Polynesia, Tonga, FIJI!, and the passage to New Zealand.
‘Strive to be Alive’
*flying fish flop to the face in the middle of the night. Never laughed so hard alone. Picked him up and back into the big blue he did go.
April 28
Light airs throughout the night but we do continue to move all night. At 2am the winds slightly shift so we pointed directly south 180º.
10am-4pm Spinnaker goes up and we make a downwind run in the right direction 220º at 4 knots for most of the day (6 hour run).
3PM. 125 miles sailed in the past 24 hours. 530 miles so far. Great progress in my opinion? Feels good but what is good? I’ve never exactly attempted a 2,800 mile passage with no internet, sign of land, or any other sailors in range.
Great fried veggie curry meal from Mr. Mate.
I learn that Tim plays Cribbage and Backgammon. Trip changes from there. He whoops me in both games twice! DAMMNIT. Shouldn’t have taught him the real rules ;) Beginners luck.
10pm-2am Rest time is horrible. Northerlies keep pushing us slightly north of due west! This is not the way to French Polynesia! Brain is spinning down in my tiny berth. All the worst case scenarios keep flooding in. How can a day be so nice and a night be so terrifying!? “Getting so far off the rhumb line suuuucks.” But are we actually even lost yet? Are we off course!? Don’t follow me because I’m lost too!
Finally fall asleep for a few minutes and see Matt Fikowski, Billy Harrison and Jupiter, Kirk Mattson, and others together in a dream. That’s nice.
“Sure we’ll get home another day”
-The Saw Doctors
April 29
I’m up early for 2am watch. We need to change sail configuration to go south but NOT bang the boat around like a mother fucking washing machine with a bowling ball in it!
At 15º north of the equator we are feeling warmer and muggier temps at night.
“You don’t even have real Spinnaker lines!?”
-Random girl in La Paz looking at my vintage yellow spinnaker ropes.
“Yeah well watch these lines sail to French Polynesia”
-Tim White
2am-4am spent rolling around SW doing 3 knots per hour..
Oh I forgot to mention that I had been drinking heaps of cervesas on this Mexican trip. I know its not good for the brain or the body so I’ll do the passage dry. That means besides the ceremony while we pass over the equator, there will be no tobacco, marijuina, or alcohol consumed. Its a great goal to commit to especially on such a monumental voyage. Take it all in dead sober. Alone with the brain in its natural state.
07:30am
Spinnaker up and we head SW fast for 3 hours until the winds are a bit too much for the Kite. I’m sure the kite can take more than 14 knots of wind but Im trying to keep this sails alive until New Zealand so I’ll take it down when the gut feelings says so. I love the 120º angle we are making so we pole out a single reefed Genoa and continue on SW well into the night (all night for that matter).
Pancakes for lunch.
Boobie bird spent the night resting on our solar panels. I can tell from the shit sprayed everywhere he had been there a while. Its all over the solar panels, the cushions, the side of the boat. Nasty stuff to get off.
We are getting really good at hoisting and dousing the Spinny.
“Good crew isnt found, its made”
Buoy this voyage would be very difficult solo (I wonder how Gio is doing all alone behind us?). It could definitely be possible to single hand this but physically and mentally demanding. More than I think I couldn’t handle at this time. I speak with Tim today about the fact that just doing a Pacific Ocean crossing is one of the biggest milestones in life. It doesnt make it any better to do it solo. It should be shared with someone for support and the fact its shared is more important.
Tim has quiet days as do I. I’m not sure if he’s exhausted or quiet but hes also being challenged immensely.
3pm
110 miles sailed in the past 24 hours. The lowest daily average yet but my spirits are high because we have been going in the right direction AND avoiding dead wind patches.
sail on, Sail On, SAIL ON!
2 games of Yahtzee. Hes good.
Fish Tacos. I got a bit frustrated because of food, knives, and plates flying around the galley because of big rolling waves tossing the boat left to right left to right left to right. Never truly flat out here. Its very hard to prepare a meal when the veggies and sharp knife fly off the cutting board across the kitchen.
Really pretty beautiful sunset tonight. We sail comfortably into the soft rolling North Pacific. We are rocking back and forth a lot due to the single Genoa sail out the side but in my opinion its better than banging the mainsail around everywhere all night. Tonight we should regain some of our lost rest. I’m feeling a bit tired and sore. Blessed to be out here.
“Lone Ranger”
April 30
The day was cloudy from start to end. We ran the Genoa poled out all day and that did well. Logbook noon to noon reading only said 111 miles traveled but its on the rhumb line in the perfect direction to FP so this is okay with us.
As the winds start to lighten up at 4pm, we raise the new to me $200 North Sails drifter spinnaker I scored in the boat yard from the flea market. Now’s the time to see if we can fly it next to the poled out Genoa. HAHA
We are laughing our asses off as both sails flew wing on wing, WAY out the front of Struggy. The 2 sails battle each other for the chance to tug Struggler forward. Such a funny sight to see. We couldn’t come up with a way to keep the Spinny sheets off the Genoa so we furled in Genny and continued on racing ahead with new Red Devil well into the night. That was a good laugh. Its confirmed we CANNOT fly a symmetrical spinnaker and a 135% Genoa at the same time. We have not yet confirmed that we can’t run both spinnakers at then same time yet though (This will come).
Dinnertime offered us an unforgettable view of well over 100 spotted dolphins jumping and splashing as they raced ahead of the Struggler. They stay for over half an hour. We sat on the bow and watched as they played and dove up and down with their young. It was very nice to see in the middle of the ocean. Where will they go and where did they come from!? They look happy.
Isn’t it amazing how dolphins have adapted so well to be perfect swimming animals in the ocean yet they need to come up and breathe fresh air?
After dinner the winds keep climbing and we are racing through the water right on the edge of out of control. Red Devil spinny is flying ahead of the boat pulling Struggy into the sunset like a dogsled on a Northern Canadian frozen lake. Sliding through the water we are laughing and watching the chart plotter spit out numbers like 7.5-8.50 knots of speed! I mention to Tim that if he came here looking for anything besides this, he’s on the wrong boat. If these winds increase, we will douse. He lays down on the couch for his 4 hour rest. I’m up here in the cockpit as the winds ease slightly and we hum along at 6 knots welllllll into the night. This is what its all about crossing the Pacific Ocean. We are making this up and doing whatever we feel is right in the moment.
“We flew the spinnaker all night long because no one was there to say we couldn’t”
Coffee and journaling in my short shorts at 9pm. Each degree we march south shows us the humid and warm temps at night.
‘Here we must go’
‘The shape of sail to come’
11:10pm. SNAP. The starboard spinnaker sheet snaps and lets the spinnaker go flying through the air. We bring it down with the moon lit night as our only headlamps. Luckily it looks like it chafed on the forestay only 10 feet from the sail. So we put the spinnaker and sheets away. NO harm nor foul. We will be able to use the sheet again it’s just a bit shorter now.
I suppose a spinnaker in 14 knots of wind all night isnt the best idea. We’ll think about that next time. Or will we?
“Thanks for letting us be ourselves”
-Public Enemy
May 1
Happy May
Day 7 out at sea. We have traveled 880 miles since yanking up the anchor in Cabo, Mexico. Happy with the progress. 10:30am We drop the sails and throw out a swim line! A swim and bath with 10,000 feet of water below us. What a trip. Ive never had or probably never will have a shower thousands of miles from land. Feels so good to be cleaned up. Tim cleans the cockpit seats and I clean up Struggy interior.
Every shade of blue you can imagine out here.
5:00pm. I switch the fishing hook up to more of a jigging hook and 1 minute after letting it out, bam we hook up with a fish. It turns out to be a smaller Mahi Mahi. First fish on the passage so we keep it and it feeds both of us just right for dinner. Thank you Dorado.
3rd reef in Main. Genoa fully reefed in. Big winds. Big seas. Holding on for dear life and sailing Southwest.
May 2
1 hour of sleep throughout the night. Like a wild rollercoaster flying through the night. Feels like riding Thunder Mountain at DisneyLand high on drugs… (not that I know what that feels like)
Banging and rolling around. Can’t even walk around the dark cabin safely.
I notice a new friend hitching a free ride up on our solar panel. Its a very pretty red footed Boobie Bird! Bright white body. Her face and beak is lit up with light blue and pink highlights. In the afternoon she flies to the bow and I’m able to give her a proper photo shoot. What a gorgeous bird. I’ll name her FIJI.
She stays for well over 24 hours. Pampering and cleaning each feather with her beak.
Today we are at 11ºN of the equator which is about 100 miles north of where the doldrums officially start. Its getting very hot in the boat. Almost too hot to lay in the quarter berth for rest. This heat and difficult sailing might make for some hard times getting rest (And it did).
So we sail on!
“West is Best” she says.
Ground beef cooked on tacos. Made up little weird dinner thingy.
May 3
Shit for a night! The moment we hit 10ºN it starts pouring rain. I have read that the doldrums can be a marathon to cross over but didn’t expect to get poured on the minute we hit ten degrees north! Very wet boat. Winds aren’t terribly strong at 12-14 knots but the seas are all over the shop! Sorta like swell coming from 2 directions and making the Pacific Triangle. Blah.
7am.
Boats a wreck. Impossible to keep it clean alone.
8am.
It appears the furling line that keeps the Genoa wrapped up has chaffed through. Full Genny is fully out when we get up on deck in the morning. Tim does a legendary Mr. Mate fixit’ trick and is able to manually roll up the furler and then re install a new 75’ furling line I purchased brand new in San Carlos for $200/CAN!
The first thing Tim said when he came on board was we should install that new furling line right away instead of out in the middle of the ocean. I said “this ol’ white furling line has lots of life left in it” so we watched for chaffing points but didn’t get to replacing it quick enough. These are lessons. No harm on this one thank goodness.
“We can’t be putting a rip in a new sails now can we”
All the wet things are hung outside in the sun. This could be a theme of soaking around at night and drying things up in the day. Lets hope for sunny days over the DULL drums.
Today feels truly remote and inhospitable. We REALLY are out in the middle of frig knows where. And it feels good! Suns shining, music is playing, batteries are charging, and sails are full going in the right direction. It’s all gonna work out just fine.
Praying to the wind Gods today to bless us with at least some breeze to slip us down and over the big Oº
3:00pm.
9 days at sea. 1,133 miles sailed. Not even the thought of the engine!
“Swift wings be must borrow”
-Van Morrison
Leftover beef taco for dinner. Waiting on the rains. Waiting on the winds to turn Easterly.
May 4
Happy 8th Birthday Finley Thurston. Born May 4, 2018.
The only bad thing about traveling is not being around for the family and nieces and nephews. Dang. I heard Fin got his very own .22 rifle. It’s good that he learns to respect and safely fire these guns.
Worst night of the trip so far! We counted 7 squalls throughout the night.. Horribly wet inside. We have 2 main leaks in the boat …
We spend the cloudy day outside hand washing clothing and hang drying everything from sheets, underwear, towels, and washcloths. We used up everything last night to lap up water coming in from the roof!! Yes…. The most frustrated and lowwest Ive ever been on Struggy (Besides the one time in the Sea of Cortez when the sea water was above the floor boards and they started floating around the cabin).
Every seam and screw hole in the roof are pouring out WATER!? Tim says the mast is leaking? I reply that I re sealed the mast base in the boatyard and this is much worse. But what is it? HOW!? Throughout the raining night in the dark I cannot understand how water can come through so many places in a roof?
Imagine the site of being thousands of miles at seas and its pouring buckets outside. We are wet and very tired but water is pouring through all the cracks and wood seams in the roof? Was a major downer and deflating moment and could be looked back at the worst moment and the moment we asked “What are we actually doing out here”? This is now fixed. Spoiler alert. The boat never rained from the roof again.
When the dawn finally breaks and the sun comes out we make a huge find. I find 2 drain holes that let water out from the upper roof/hatch area. Both these holes were covered by the dodger fabric and were completely plugged up with years worth of crud, mud, and debris. I unclogg both of them and they rush out with water that was trapped in the upper shell of the boat! In my defense, I never knew these tiny 1/4” drain holes were even on the boat tucked behind the dodger fabric right beside the clips to keep the dodger secure. Sitting smiling up on the open deck watching brown water flow out of the upper shell of the boat. Wow. That was joy.
Veggie spaghetti for dinner.
The 8pm to 12pm watch is one of the neatest experiences. I’m totally prepped for rain but it never comes! Since we haven’t changed our clocks on the boat and we are going west, the clocks say 8pm but the sun is just setting! Very cool.
We are blessed with some Easterlies with a side of soft and calm Pacific Seas. This means we hum along at 4 knots with very little rolling. It feels like we aren’t moving at all but we must me? By 9pm its the blackest black I have ever witnessed. Pure Darkness no matter what direction you look. So you look out towards the breeze coming in and all you can do is hear the boat sliding through the water. Hard to see squalls at night isn it.
11pm and the full moon pops out from behind some thick clouds. Entire ocean in every direction is now visible. Enough to read a book! I see lightning and thunder storms to the West so we stay on our south bound.
‘Quest for Zest’
(I broke Billys $0.50 thrift store Jesus coffee mug when it tipped off the table in the cockpit) DANG. Sorry Mate. IOU.
Midnight. Still moving south at 3.5 knots. Nothing fast but we are heading in the right direction. No rain! This is alllllll good.
Struggler nibbled away at the miles.
Today was our slowest noon to noon reading of 109 miles traveled. Not bad for weird equator doldrums. 1,250 miles traveled in 10 days.
Slide into my dry but extremely hot and muggy equator bunk. Its getting very hot in this boat when we need to close up hatches for water control. Yuck.
May 5
Day 11. 1,300 miles sailed.
Finally feeling comfortable. Bliss out at sea. Not in a rush. Calm. Comfortable with the choice to make this passage. For some reason in an instant years of deciding to do this are approved in the mind. Okay?
Today was supposed to be the lightest winds of the trip so far. A nasty day bobbing around in the doldrums. It’s been one of the fastest days yet. 6 hours of downwind spinny and then racing into the night with great bright white sails.
It’s Unbelievable.
“You dont need a weatherman to tell you when the wind blows”
-Bob Dylan
I get a good 8-12pm watch with a mix of moon and clouds. Tim has a wet watch from 12-4am. Theres hardly any wind at 5am and we are slopping around so after an hour I decide to drop all the sails and try and get a good solid hour of sleep just drifting out at sea. As I lay on the couch looking up at the contents of the galley flying around, I cant decide if the sound of sails banging around trying to find wind is any worse or better than the feeling of NO sails up and the boat literally flying around in the soup bowl swells. I’m almost to sleep when I guess my body makes the decision for me. Up onto the deck and the sails come down and the flopping around might be the best right now. Definitely not comfortable. I’m awoken to Tim up on deck pulling up and mainsail and letting some Genoa out…. I was very tired but also knew I was very frustrated with this decision at that moment. It was my watch and he raised the sails?? I guess he figured having sails banging around up top is better than the uncomfortable feeling of being under bare poles. He waits 20 minutes of sails Flogging Mollies around in almost no wind before dropping the sails again. This is when other captains fire up the engine and make way under power. I was slightly pissed. Figured Id mention to him tomorrow not to raise or lower the sails without a chat about it but then I remembered, we are all learning. He is learning and wants to try and experiment also. I have made and will continue to make not the best choices in the future. Learning the best way to get by on a sailboat. No harm and no foul.
Also no conversation needed. We sail on when the winds slowly fill in at dawn. Feels good to be moving.
“You aint seen nothin’, till you’re down on a muffin”
-Run DMC
May 6th
8 hour downwind lazer run with the spinnaker sling shotting us over the wave tops.
Plenty of naps since the sea state is comfortable and we are moving in the right direction with little effort.
105 mile run in the past 24 hours. We fall into 6º North and have officially passed the half way mark of this journey. Tim estimates an arrival into Nuku Hiva at 3:00pm May 17th and I’ll make my guess 3:00pm May 20th. Closest guess will receive a free dinner and plenty of cervaseas on the losers bill. Maybe Nuku Hiva will have a nice little hole in the wall cruisers bar where I can contribute my legal tender to their establishments mortgage?
New furling line chaffed through. Dang! The line doesnt touch any metal and is a good clear run to the furler drum. WTF? How and when do these sudden chafes cut through? (Mystery solved later on)
Lost a Derado fish at the boat reeling it in.
Hairline cracks found in the main stainless steel Boom to Mast gooseneck connection. These are tiny cracks in the stainless steel but are most definitely new since the boatyard as I would have seen these and had them welded before launching. We inspect and talk it over and make sure we try to reduce the gybing boom. Lets be careful with the banging of the main. Lets keep it reefed down when necessary. I’ll have to remove this piece and have it welded in Peppettee, Tahiti. Until then it will be pampered. Snapping the boom off could wreck your whole day ;)
This is Day 12!
No more fruit left, 2 questionable tomatoes, 2 avocados remain. Still have carrots, potatoes, onions, garlic, 2 sweet potatoes, and a cabbage. We under provisioned for fruit and veggies. Could have used a few more sacks of apples and oranges.
The rest will all be canned veggie/fruits.
19 eggs left.
Lots of cheese.
Heaps of powdered milk (Never to run out).
Afternoon flows into evening dinner for the best clouds and sunset of the passage so far. We are blown away by the 360º view of the Pacific. Struggler really feels like she belongs right here right now. I make a “cheat” dinner of chips and dip with a side of mushroom soup so I dont have to be in the galley long tonight. We are meant to be outside. Since we havent changed our clocks since lawing Mexico, we are probably 2-3 timezones ahead so sunset is at 8pm on our boat. My shift from 8pm-12 is unbelievable. These are the very rare moments where the skies are completely clear showing every star in the universe. The winds are steady on our beam (from the side) and she glides across the calm sea at 6.5 knots for hours on end. I sit in the warm air outside in the cockpit and enjoy a tea with a view. Only easing or tightening the mainsheet to keep the speed up but mostly keep the passengers comfortable as I know we are enjoying the first truly comfortable sleep of the passage. Its cheesy I know but these are the nights and the moments that make everything worth the sacrifice and effort so far. These moments are rare but when they come they change the outlook of the entire trip. Maybe even your entire lifetime. I talk to Tim tonight about how fortunate he is at 26 to have almost crossed 2 oceans by sailboat? We talk about what percentage of humans have actually attempted to cross the South Pacific by sailboat like we are doing right now? I dont know anyone from my hometown that has done this yet. It makes me proud of this goal and sticking to it and seeing it through. I think its extra cool that there’s not many fancy gadgets on the yacht. Its a stripped down simplified version of boats in the past. We dont want internet out here and am glad we agree on that now.
The rest of the evening is spent outside up in the fresh warm air reminiscing about past adventures with loved ones and friends. The times that will come next and the adventures little Struggy will string together and get herself into next. Lets reef often and early and make sure this vessel makes it to New Zealand for Mom and Davids arrival from Canada.
12pm. Slide into the tiny quarter berth and fall asleep to the gentle sea moves out in the absolutely middle of the biggest ocean on earth.
“Mondays ain’t that bad, its your job that sucks”
Northern Star sits low on the horizon directly in Strugglers wake.
Southern Cross lights the way ahead as we point 180º degrees about to jump over to the southern hemisphere (Que up Souther Cross lyrics by Crosby, Stills, Nash).
May 7
Long struggle in the doldrums. Plenty of rain. Very little good wind. This day wont take up much space in the journal of time.
Four rough looking ocean traveling Boobie birds find refuge on Struggies bowsprit. They spend the entire day resting and flying off to dive down and hunt for flying fish that are scarred up and into the air from the boat. These Boobie birds are smart! They sit up front waiting for us to disperse some small fish then they fly off and dive down for dinner. All the while, shitting on the bow of the boat all day. I dont have the care to scare them away as its fun to watch and will be fairly easy to clean the mess off after this is all done. Thats if the doldrum rains dont do the work for us.
I havent felt this low of energy on the passage yet. I’m not overly under slept I just have zero drive or energy. Im not drinking, we are eating very well, and we are having plenty of water. Yet I cant get any chores at all done. No drive today so I roll around and rest.
May 8
Another difficult night in the doldrums. My shift from 8-midnight is fairly wet with confused winds. We dont make much headway south at all. Tims not setting an alarm anymore I dont think haha. So he shows up at 12:30 and has a similar watch until 4. No winds. When I take over from 4-8am its a haze of flopping around at sea, misty white views, light showers, and eerie views of white and grey into the distance. I drop all sails and we flop around until Im awoken at around 7am. I go up and realize we are drifting into the path of a working fishing vessel.. Someone is actually way out here fishing? No idea where home port would be for these guys but I unravel the Genoa and try and stay south of him fishing. I expect a call on the radio asking our intentions but it never comes. We pass within a mile off him and it takes us well over an hour to drift out of his working area. With no AIS signal, it turns out this guy was definitely an illegal fishing operation. Most likely from Japan or Indonesia?
By 8am I’m dead tired and Tim takes over. Straight to bed. Im awaken by him twice letting me know there’s no winds…. HAHAH!
In a bit of frustration I let him (as we discussded a few times prior) that we are drift until the wind pick up. So we drift as I drift even further into sleep. I sleep like a rock until my alarm for 10 goes off.
Up on deck we have southerly winds and we spend the entire day heading straight West. We are trying to go south but west will have to do.
3pm.
Our 14th day at sea. Time starts to make no sense this far into an ocean journey. It mends together. There’s no day or night, morning or evening. We have a new low record of 81 miles sailed in the past 24 hours. Its our first day under 100 miles since departing. I still think 81 miles at 3º degrees north of the equator in the heart of the doldrums is still good!
Afternoon is spent on our weekly tidy up. I clean the floors, garbage, dishes, and all the grease/condensation off the walls. Its hard to explain but other sailors will know this feeling. A boat becomes this slippery greasy mess. Its gross especially with the heat of the equator dripping off the walls. Not to mentions 2 dudes that havent had a proper shower in well over 2 weeks. When we arrive in French Poly we are gong to be gross slobs. We decide we must stop and bath at the equator (which was supposed to be today).
Game of Crib
Good dinner and mocktails.
Tims cooking and food is great! Blessing to have him on board.
8pm arrives and we are still zipping along at 4.5 knots heading straight west… We need to make up some miles. We are sailing forward though and for that we are very happy. Boat feels as tight as ever (but still greasy and slippery).
10:30pm
The moment finally comes and it happens quick. Theres no way around this one as the winds fall out from below us. The seas mellow out and this one feels like a real Dull-Drum. Truly no winds left at all.
I top up the engine coolant, check the oil, and fire up the engine with just a quick click of the big red START button. This engine starts like a dream nowadays. Thank you again Johsua and Steve. We really dreamed of sailing to FP without the use of the engine but we hear from Naomi on land over the satellite phone that this one could be a dead zone all the way down to 0º
The engine will end up running for 25 hours straight through little winds. We make 91 miles under engine. We do some calculating and the engine runs at 2.5/lph at 1,700 rpm. Not bad at all. 25 hours eats about half the tank of diesel. This is okay.
Well into the night the engine putts along with the heavy vibrations. It turns out to be our best night because its just a loud hum in the background with no sails to worry about or trimming. So in a way my mind shuts off after 15 days at sea. Im still up every 35 minutes to check for boats. Tim sleeps through his watch and the night turns into our best well rested night.
May 9
Up in the morning to the running engine and realization we are still 150 miles from the fucking equator. Why is this hypothetical imaginary line on the map so hard to get to and cross over!? Maybe we are in fact on a flat earth and this is the very edge we just cant reach (Truman Show). Not a low mood day just waiting to advance kind of feeling.
We pull the oven off the wall and clean behind it. I soak all the cutlery into vinegar and remove the rust. We have acquired 2 small bags of garbage so far on the journey. Not bad for just over 2 weeks!
From my past crewing experiences, its the captains choice on what goes overboard at sea. Ive decided on organics, human waste, and cardboard only. The rest swill come to FP and will surely be burnt up into the atmosphere. So what is worse? It just doesn’t feel right throwing glass and cans into this ocean.
Engine roars and we go to bed at sunset.
By midnight I can hear the wind howling but its still coming from just off the bow! Is it enough to sail yet? We alter course to 200º SSW and let out the Genoa. If we tighten it all the way in, it can catch a breeze! Engine roars and we are humming along at 6.5 knots. That’s the sign we need. We lift the main with a couple reefs in it and shut down the engine. 35 hours running so far this journey. Should be around 3/4 of the tank used.
May 10
Tim has a great star lit night from midnight until 4am with no course or sail changes. Bliss.
My 4-8 watch is the same. No engine sounds polluting the nature around us. Its the sound of waves tapping the ass of the stern all night. Very few sail adjustments as the sun comes up, and the coffee goes down. We are technically still in the doldrums at 1º North but it feels like we are now well on our way and sailing away from this mess. No rain in the past 24. Hope these winds keep up and keep us stiff.
(Insert excerpt from Long Way Round. The part about getting ready for a voyage and actually pulling it off)
Long Way Round
Those three hellish days on the Road of Death and the other days spent riding vast distances across almost empty landscapes had banished my fears about what lay ahead and bedded us into the journey. The anxieties and overexcitement about the whole thing had slipped away, leaving experience of just doing it. We were covering huge distances. Four hundred and seventy miles that day. Just riding from morning until evening. And as we followed the road, I came to feel that I belonged on that big motorcycle, rolling around the world. It was meant to be. And it didnt matter where exactly we were headed. We would get there. We’d find somewhere to stay. Something or someone would turn up. And if they didn’t, we’d camp out. It really was that simple!
*** “If you can succeed at the planning of a voyage, the trip will be nothing at all” ***
Find quote?
Afternoon is spent sailing under decent winds and moving in the right direction. So the planet must be flat because we cant get over this imaginary equator line (Im only joking here).
Afternoon is spent hand sewing a name patch Kayla made me for the trip onto my captains hat. Preparing for our equator ceremony planned coming up when we hop over the big 0º
Heading into the evening, Tim makes a nice charizo spaghetti dinner. 7:30pm as the plates are being served the fishing rod goes off zinging! I mean well OFF! We turn down wind to shed some speed and this one on the line is a lunker! I can tell because the head shakes on this fish are powerful and he takes me to the end of the backing line. So we have no more fishing line on the reel and we are heading downwind fighting to keep this fish on. Half an hour battle and we gaff a great looking Black Skipjack Tuna. Guidebook say they grow to 36” long and this one is 30” from nose tip to tail tip. We guess its 30 pounds and built like a rock solid football. We finish the quick spaghetti dinner and then spend from 8-10 pm filleting the fish into 4 large sections. Entire cockpit is a bloody mess so the evening is spent tired and soaking down the boat. Tim rinses the meat and bags it all up into our tiny freezer. Wish we had a buddy boat in range we could split this meat with. Blessed be this Tuna we name Tonga Tuna. He provides 5 hearty meals for us on the passage.
May 11
Shit for night. We fire up the engine at 1:30 am and its touchy all the way until 8am. I told Tim to get some rest and sleep through his watch. That wasn’t the smartest tactic because by 8am I'm very tired and have a pretty bad headache. The autopilot wouldn’t stay engaged so I was up every 30 minutes to check for other boats and re set the auto helm. We do a lot of zig zagging down the ocean faraway. We have a couple crepes in the am and Tim is in a great positive mood but Im very short and not feeling to great. Just overtired. I let him know I didnt get much sleep and need to rest for a few hours while he is on watch. Our equator ceremony will have to wait a little bit.
I get an hour of sleep and find myself in a very deep sleep when he is yelling SMOKE in the engine bay. I’m disoriented and hop up on deck and lower the RPM of the engine and get a feel for whats happening. The puff of smoke was short lived but we decide under caution to cool the engine and shut it down. We raise the spinnaker and continue west at 3 knots. We soon discover all electronics on the Port side of the boat are not working. This includes the inverter, AIS, VHF Radio, Bildge Pump and electronic chargers which are all down with no power. From past lessons, I’ll stay calm and start tracing things back to breakers and wiring to get this figured. When I met Tim I asked how much experience he has with electronics and mechanic stuff and he says very limited. So I’m stoked to see him right on my shoulder asking what Im doing and offering to help. Typically this dives me insane but its a welcomed sign that he is interested in the vessel and getting it fixed up. As explained above, this can cause a bit off alarm indeed. We have no power on some fairly crucial pieces of kit. Stay calm.
I soon discover one of the main power wires from the battery to the port side positive block had been rubbing against the engine block and it had shorted out. This is tern made the entire wire overheat and fry at the main control panel. That is why we seen the puff of smoke from the panel. We replace the wire ends and everything flips on with no problem! Breakers are also not damaged. Huge sigh of relief as a charging and navigation problem 2,000 miles from North American and 900 miles from a speck of dust in the middle of the South Pacific knows as French Polynesia could be a massive problem. The problem is 100% fixed and I zip tie the the remaining wires a bit closer to each other and away from any chafe vibration with thew engine.
“You wouldn’t want to get a flat tire out here”
-BT
We have an equator party! I let Tim know that Ive always dreamed of having a little equator ceremony for both of us and King Neptune asking for safe passage to the Southern Hemisphere. He loves the idea and we start crafting some costumes for a skit . I cut out some goofy oversized green glasses and he makes some tin foil beards for us both! I write up a quick speech on paper that is died in tea leaves, edges burnt, and rolled up into a scroll. Tim makes some special Crepes for King Neptune and we find our special champagne purchased in Cabo for this occasion. As we pass from 0º North to 0º South, we make the speech, toss him a Crepe, and take a shot of champagne. This transforming us from simple sailing pilgrims to mighty South Pacific shellbacks. We really did just sail over the equator under our own power.
After the ceremony, we drop the sails, toss in the 100 foot “safety swim line” and hop in! 10,000 A leagues a blue below us. We wash up and enjoy splashing around the Struggler. Its amazing how cool the boat looks just floating alone in the middle of the sea. We are in the water and she is floating proudly above us. Going nowhere of course. ;)
I swim down and look up at the keel and rudder. Amazing!! Once in a lifetime out here.
“We are writing the book we want to read”
“At the equator, I watch the North Star fade below the horizon for the last time. Not sure when I’ll see it again”
Tuna Dinner
Sailing into the sunset South West. We are finally creating distance between us and the doldrums. Winds are becoming more constant and filling in like the guidebooks say they should! What a huge relief. 900nm to Marquasas.
Into the night we cruise along at 3.5 knots and pray for stability and a good nights rest.
“Movin’ across the water”
Goodnight
**The frustration of a breeze from behind the beam that isnt enough to keep the mainsail full and it bashes back and forth while the sail backfills back and forth BANG. Preventer is on and holding it out. Reduce main sail or reef down? Whats the best move here? Im quite possibly the worst sailor to cross the Pacific hah. (Since Chasing Bubbles did it).
Slow night for miles.
Very slow 4am-8am watch. We are moving but at 2-3 knots. Once Tim comes up for his 8am watch I go down into the tiny quarter berth and sleep until noon. Must have needed that. The day is spent lounging around the boat. No big projects on the go so I start a new book. The cruising guide to French Polynesia! Theres a whole world of places out there coming up next.
3pm. We do a mileage check and we have a new daytime record! 66 miles sailed in the last 24 hours. OUCH. We really need these winds to fill in. 2,010 miles sailed since Mexico.
8-12pm watch and the winds on the beam and finally picking up some steam. We are starting to move now.
I’m not complaining here but more observing. The one thing that happens on longer passages is sore muscles. It must have to do with the lack of exercise and movement. Back, hips, shoulders, and arms are sore. Energy levels are low. Should be exercising more.
“I’ve been hurting, is the world still turning?”
-Bella White
It wasn’t expected but on a monohull sailboat, you are constantly moving and trying to stay balanced. The core and abs are working non stop to stay balanced and to not fall over. It takes more out of the body than one may think.
“I see the moonlight in your hair”
This part of the jounral feels a bit sporadic. Its just notes and thoughts while tumbling along at sea.
A few things i’ve learned in the past 13,000 miles at sea:
Learn to sail like you have a Mother and Child sleeping in the berths below.
Do your best to keep the waves from banging and the rigging from clanking.
We’re 2,010 miles from land and there’s definitely a cricket living somewhere in the galley. Interesting!?
I wonder if he is wondering where he is going? Is he a stow away or does his family know his future plans? Is he saving for college!? Is he scared?
“Its time to move on, it’s time to get going. What lies ahead I have no way of knowing”
-Tom Petty
May 13
Midnight meteor shower. Plenty of stars and milky ways above.
6am. Downpour. Boats a’ Leaky.
Rain Day.
My moral is down today. Its just a bit too much right now. 700 miles to go.
Will be right tomorrow.
The two main contributors to a very bad passage is a leaking boat from rain squalls and constant banging of the rigging.
The good news is I have located the 2 main suspects for the leaking boat. The annoying thing is both of these issues were both calked and sealed in the boat yard with expensive marine 5200 sealant. Of course they are both the spots that are now cracked and already leaking after 4 months? The new products on the market are extremely frustrating. $35 for a half tube of this marine sealant and it fails months into the adventure? Where can a guy buy the quality stuff they used in the original 1979 fabrication of these yachts. Stuff that works, Stuff that holds up. So I am now my Father haha. I remember him complaining about these same issues in 1994.
May 14.
Night watches are great. Finally the rains dissipate and the winds fill in solid from the South. We are heading to Nuku Hiva on a beam reach.
Not much change all day as we zip along. 600 miles to go.
May 15
Just holding on for dear life at this point.
3pm marks 21 days since we pulled anchor in Cabo. Both myself and Tim have never been at sea this long. His record of 13 days has been smashed and my 18 day passage is now astern. We are in 15-16 knot SSE breezes all morning and day. Just holding on like a city kid with a brand new cowboy hat at his first rodeo. We’re making up 132 nautical miles in the past 24 hours. Just under 500 miles to go. We are ready for some land now.
We start the cliché conversations about what we think the ground will feel like when we first step on it. What the first restaurant and cold cerveza will taste like. He wants a pizza and I’ll like a salad in the biggest bowl the islands have to offer.
Lets keep this boat from ripping apart at the seams. We are fully reefed down all afternoon and still making a 6.6-7.2 knot average. We need to make sure this boat keeps it together until NZ. I know young Timmy Buoy wants to speed ahead and make some records and I was once in the same state of mind but now problems and damages can be costly or much worse. They can end this trip months upon months early. I’ll continue to listen to the gut and move Faster Forward.
Easy does it.
(I know the EXACT feeling in his eyes. I had that feeling only a few years ago!)
He mentions he plans on buying a boat someday so this is part of the process.
Speaking of that. This boat is a FUCKIN disgusting mess. I’ve been trying to keep it tidy but its never ending with the wet floors, wet clothing and towels, the bathroom stinks and we are hardly using it. Galley feels greasy and the sink its nasty. I’ll wash out the shelves and fridge tomorrow but for now I’ll wash the floors and clean the bathroom. Yuck it smells in here. Since all the hatches need to be closed because of water and spray, the smells in the heat remain inside. Yuck..
NEON SOUTHERN CROSS
Last 2 potatoes and single onion are used up in a tuna fish tacos. We no longer have anything fresh on board from Mexico.(Not true. We find a big block of cheese hiding in the fridge. Score).
It’s Friday night of May Long weekend back in Canada so I send a few satellite email messages to Mom, Dad, Joshua, and Kayla. I hear all about the greens of spring and the itch to get out camping. That land under the feet Amen.
May 16-17
The next 3 days will all mesh together as we have 3 reefs in the main and the Genoa comes in and out leaving a small chunk of canvas tight to the winds. We are fully reefed and making averages of 6.0-6.6 knots. We have runs of 150, 151, and 152 miles in 24 hours! Heading for the run into Marquesas!!!
“Reef or Madness”
“Reefer Madness”
‘We’re right on the edge of out of control’
Nice to be in contact with my Dad Hughy back at home. Hes taking a pretty good interest in the recent Struggler refit and the plans to taker’ across a real ocean. Even said he was damn proud. That feels good.
Saturday afternoon upon the helm and the boat is riding furious over the sun lit perfect blue shaded waves. Definitely the swells are above the solar panels meaning they are 10’-12’ high??
The auto helm is having a hard time keeping us going straight and is Struggling hard. A few hours of steering by hand and then pop. The 2 sheer pins snap out of the autopilot motor. Luckily we spent the first few days of the passage fabricating 2 of these for this situation. We quickly install the 2 new pins and give it a test. Works like the others. Great!
Will need to come up with a full time fix in FP, Tonga, or Fiji? Possibly order new pins or keep these homemade pins on hand.
Those little messages from Naomi (3-4 days out of Nuku Hiva) saying it may be a little tough to stay south in these Easterlies, was huge in routing and staying on track. Its hard to know where to be going and how to get there way out here.
Cricket found in my berth!! Just walking around. The poor hopper is wondering what he has got himself into. We are wondering the same thing. He cries for a friend (or land) at night. He is a bit scared.
“You can’t fall off the floor out here” so I spend the night sleeping on the floor. This way my mattress cant go sliding off the bed with me flying with it. Its a damp, hot, mess out here.
My body is very sore. Its sick of holding myself off the walls and falling into things while walking around and cooking. The body is over this now but the mind will be strong. Keep it all together. Mind and body are ready to drop the hook and sleep for an entire night. No more 3 hour naps.
May 18
Moral is now just like it was when we left Mexico. Its happening! We are within 24 hours of landfall in a new hemisphere.
‘100 Miles and Runnin’
7:15pm LAND HOE!
Ua-Huka island located 30 miles off the port quarter. Right where they said it would be. We are in fact not lost!
Dinner and sunset are a special time. Perfect breeze and hardly any swell. We sit on the upper deck and watch the sun beams come down as the sun sets below the horizon for the last time on this passage. Every star was on call for the last lap into the islands. It’s like the mighty pacific whispered us in.
May 19
The night is clear and Nuku Hiva island appears from the horizon at night. I slow the boat (which I said I’d never do). Fully reefed down it is now a slower pace so we can arrive at daybreak. I’ll sail all night and at 8:30am, we sail under our own power into Taiohae, Nuku Hiva.
A memory I wont forget is sailing into this bright green lush bay for a victory lap at 8:30 am. We motored by every boat with huge smiles on our faces. I remember seeing people coming out of their boats with morning coffees and Tim is up on the bow smiling ear to ear. Bright white teeth waving at every sailor as we slowly putter by. That was a proud moment.
Hook dropped in 28’ of water. 100’ of chain let out.
24 days, 19 hours sailed.
2,900 miles.
36 hours of engine use.
Fastest day 152 miles.
Slowest day 66 miles.
“The Southern Cross guided us down gently into French Polynesia”
