Week 34: 09-15.04.2018
I forgot about this hideousness, and I had terrible difficulties with those when I was crossing the Atlantic Ocean in 2014.
Week 34: 09-15.04.2018
Code 0 up, code 0 down. The weather at the Equator is unstable as… as usual. It just is. Great and broad darkness is coming from the south. I take down everything, only the small foremast is up, and I am going 4.5 kts. Absolutely no wind. Oh, and a jellyfish! But only one…
Sails down, that bastard comes from the right, against the wind. I’m left with the small foremast. And the water has reached 31 degrees Celsius. The cloud, instead of coming at me, has gone even more against the wind and has overtaken me. Again code 0 up. And code 0 down. It started raining, pouring even. And the whole time like this, almost non-stop with drizzles from time to time. Sometimes a 3‑4 NE wind starts blowing slowly, but sometimes after 15 minutes, sometimes after 2 hours, it goes down to 1-2B. A pretty large wave comes from N. There, at the north, there is the long‑desired trade wind. I just have to get through these clouds. I had to take down the mainsail, because this wave without wind is tossing me terribly. And so I am going NNW with the current. Sailing with the currents turned out to be a good strategy. I have been going at 4.5 – 5 kts. For like 4 hours. So Puffin works normally! The last weeks have made me paranoid about whether something happened and if it is not sailing as fast as always. I hear this fantastic sound of water spreading over the hull. But something is wrong. The noise is as usual, but the speed is dropping slowly, even below 4 kts. What the hell? Somewhere at the back of my head an alarm rang – the problem is unidentified, but familiar. I went up on the deck and I saw in the corner of my eye some reddish-yellowish thing. I had not even formulated my final standing on the issue, when a loud – „CRAP!! Seaweeds!” came out of my mouth. I forgot about this hideousness, and I had terrible difficulties with those when I was crossing the Atlantic Ocean in 2014. Not a failure and repairing the mast, longitudinal, transverse or sail trim. Not scrubbing the bottom with my heart in my mouth and sharks behind my back (they always are behind your back). Not the lack of sleep, weather or my strategy. No. It’s the seaweeds what will decide whether I can circumnavigate the World in 268 days.
Ever since that, for me every day is mostly numbers. I am virtually non‑stop looking at the speed of the boat. Every 15 minutes I check the rudders for the green stuff. If necessary, I take it off with a paddle. The boat regains about 0.3 – 0.5 kts. and the drift is smaller. The seaweeds on the ballast slow the boat down by 0.5 – 0.8 kts. though. Right now I see only one way to take them off – put the boat adrift with the sails up. The weed falls down and the boat starts going at about 5 kts. After a couple of minutes the speed is dropping again. I am losing the most at night. I have to sleep, and I cannot see the rudders at all (no moon), it is impossible to take anything off it. One thing I can do, if the log suggests so, is to stand adrift. The seaweeds surface is similar to sandpaper, so the rudders have the anti-fouling paint completely scrubbed off. The ballast probably looks similar. Apart from that, it is almost marvelous. I have some wind, the water temperatu re has dropped below 26 degrees, so has the air temperature. I may still live like a naked caveman, but at night I use a thin blanket. If the living conditions improved this much, maybe some other life will also spring?
25595 miles with an average 4,5 kts.-107,3 miles per day
3120 miles to the finish line, 87,5% of the route is done
ETA vs DEADLINE 2 days and 1 hour behind the schedule.
Artist of the week:
- Lunatic Soul
- I caught life – Wacław Korabiewicz
- Temptations – Wacław Korabiewicz
- By kayak to India – Waclaw Korabiewicz