Ensenada to Islas Cedros, Mexico              3-27-2015 Friday, 4:30 am

This evening, I offer to take Eric’s previous watch schedule, covering two watches tonight, starting at 7:30 p.m. The three amigos are below deck by 8:00 p.m. In the dark, it is quiet. Trent comes up the companionway (doorway into the cockpit) around 9:00 pm; says he can’t sleep. He cuddles up next to me under the salty blanket. Trent is reading the Harry Potter series, so I offer to read aloud his book to him until his watch. It is nice, unexpected quality time with my 11-year-old son. Just before 10 p.m., Trent takes his watch. I feel badly that he doesn’t get a nap before his watch, but I’m tired. Before I leave, I help him get comfortable under the large folded blanket.

The seas remain rough. When I go below, the aft berth is rocking so violently to and fro that I can’t get comfortable enough to sleep. I think I will have to move to the saloon floor on future passages. Ugh! I finally fall asleep around midnight after Eric takes his watch and changes course to a more comfortable tack.

Four hours of sleep, back up at 3:50…Bryce likes to wake-up the next watch early…little bugger. Stars are bright tonight. I pull out my distance eyeglasses so that I can see better the myriad of constellations that envelope us: recognizing Big Dipper, Little Dipper, Orion and the Milky Way. Next watch, I will bring up my smart phone with its Star app to learn more of the night sky’s patterns.

During my downtime and on watch, I have been reading Richard Henry Dana Jr.’s Two Years Before the Mast (Dana Point, our third stop down from Ventura, was named after him). I enjoy more listening to this book read aloud. Eric had downloaded it from LibraVox (free recorded audiobooks) and shared a couple chapters with his Kandu crew before we landed at Dana Point. On my own, I’m finding the book rather dry, although Mr. Dana has a prolific and eclectic vocabulary. His word choices are entertaining. Impressive is his ability to use such a variety of words to describe similar subjects…halyards, stays, names of sails, etc. But as far as emotional content is concerned, he leaves me parched. I’m reading it to learn more about sailing in a somewhat entertaining way, rather than reading manuals on sailing, and as a bonus, the book describes the California coastline in its early development. The book was published in 1840, just prior to the gold rush. It became an overnight bestseller, whereby he was elevated to rockstar status among gold rushers.

On an entirely different subject, wearing our fancy hydrostatic life jackets all the time is annoying. Mine is starting to feel heavy and sometimes it makes me hot. Cooking yesterday afternoon was quite the chore because there were a lot of dirty dishes in the sink and the boat was bucking like a bronco, lurching deeply from side to side. I was crabby and frustrated. I stripped off my vest and found relief to move around and finish preparing dinner: macaroni & cheese, the boys’ favorite; served with the last of my fresh crudité, not the boys’ favorite. In Ensenada, I had stocked up with fresh vegetables, but these were mostly consumed while hosting Uncle Bill and family friend, Joe. I will have to find more fresh vegetables in Bahia Tortugas, i.e.: Turtle Bay.

Life aboard Kandu while sailing on overnight passages and then anchoring instead of being tied to a dock, is smaller and larger at the same time. Living space is very tight on purpose to keep everything and everyone inside from rolling about when seas are rough. Yet, these imposed limits below deck encourage boat dwellers to ascend above deck offering limitless perspectives.

Leslie Dennis Rigney

Ensenada to Islas Cedros, Mexico             3-26-2015 Thursday, 8:30 pm

The boys have been rambunctious all evening having been stuck for the first time over 24 hours on the boat. Yesterday, Wednesday, March 25^th, 2015, we departed Ensenada Harbor, 11:45 a.m., stocked with plenty of easy foods to snack on: fresh fruit of all kinds, yummy Mexican pastries, highly pasteurized boxed milk and eggs.

The seas since departing Ensenada have been so convoluted and muddled (we later learned the unusual mix of southern swell and northern swell was due to the aftereffects of Hurricane Pam which demolished Vanuatu the week prior to our departure) that not one of us escaped the effects of nausea. Thankfully none of us vomited. The fresh easy foods were a very good idea, because I didn’t feel like cooking and none of us were interested in eating much.

For the first time since we’ve owned and sailed the boat, we engaged the spinnaker pole to hold the genoa sail out (the large triangular sail in front of the boat), fully catching the wind. We’ve been sailing almost directly downwind (wind from behind). For comfortable sailing, Kandu prefers to be 10° off the wind. In the dark, on our first overnight, we did not want to engage in a lot of jibing, changing direction from starboard to port, as maneuvering a cruising sailboat like Kandu is not the same as handling a small race boat like a J24. Jibing Kandu is quite the process (you almost want to calendar it in), moving the spinnaker pole from port to starboard and back which requires changing out the fore and aft guys, and swapping out the topping lifts. Thus we kept the same downwind tack all night long, bobbing side to side while the sails crashed loudly: luffing and filling. Sometimes the sound was explosive. Hearing it, my head shuddered!

Wednesday evening was the start of our first night watch tours. Eric assigned himself the more fatiguing double watch 8-10:00 p.m. and 4-6:00 a.m. He woke Bryce for the 10-12 midnight. Bryce woke me from midnight to 2:00 p.m. I woke Trent for the 2-4:00 a.m., the easiest watch. Then Trent woke Eric again for the 4-6:00 a.m. Eric was so exhausted, both physically and emotionally, that he woke Bryce again at 6:00 a.m. to take over while he grabbed some more sleep before getting on the HAM radio net for a 7:45 a.m. weather report.

My first watch was fine. Beforehand, Eric had taught us how to fill-in the “Passage Logbook” page, so I dutifully recorded our position at N 30° 52, W 116°32 with a compass heading of 146° South. Going roughly 5.5 knots, the wind was only blowing 8-8.5 mph. The night sky was clear; the air was wet, causing the blanket covering my legs to be damp: a king size synthetic blanket given to us 20 years ago for our wedding and previously unused. I was very happy to be covered by this perfectly soft blanket where the dirt wipes away easily and salty moisture dries quickly, keeping the user toasty warm. I almost didn’t bring it due to lack of space, but Eric recommended something for night watches and I remembered this one. Sure am glad I toted it along!

My two-hour watch did not seem terribly long. I was warm, but not too warm: comfortable under our dry hard dodger, but with the wet cool wind blowing up the rear, not too comfortable. My recent knee abrasion was tender. At the Ensenada Cruise Port Village guest dock, we moved Kandu from the end of B dock to the end of C dock. To catch the dock lines, I ran from one end to the other end. There was a stainless steel tube frame on the dock that I tripped over, landing hard on my right knee, the knee of my ACL replacement. My hands and forearms were superficially scraped, but my knee suffered terrible road rash, swelling, and bruising. Since then, it has been bothering me, reducing my ability to move quickly around the boat.

9:00 pm – my writing was interrupted by Trent, who couldn’t sleep. It seems for all of us, adjusting to life at sea and into the unknown will take some time.

Leslie Dennis Rigney