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October 1
The wind continues to blow 20-25 knots from the Northeast. I've been
working my way toward Lat. 20 North. The trade winds are more reliable
South of 20. However, since I have about as much wind as I can row in,
I've decided to work my way due West for a little while.
As my rowing friend, Jeff Skora, would say "the water is as rough as a
cob." I should think that if Jeff were here he'd come up with a more
potent description. For me, I guess the water's just about right. Any
rougher and I could not row, and any smoother I might be bored. As it is,
I am never bored while at the oars. I find it important to keep a willful
grip on my attitude. One hour I am frolicking in the foam, the next, I am
in a sulfurous shin-banging torment fit only for Dante's second circle of
hell. It's the same water from one hour to the next. The only thing that
changes is my attitude toward it. Since my mood does not alter the waves,
it is best to keep my mood a positive one.
With this in mind, I continue to attempt to row twelve hours a day.
However, I am less rigid about which hours those are. Initially, I rowed
exclusively in the daylight. But, in the last week, I've taken to rowing
at all hours. I row until I think it is too rough to tolerate, then I rest
for a few hours and come out again. My worst day of this I only managed
about eight hours at the oars. Rowing at night can be a bit frustrating
unless there is a bright moon. It is difficult to read the swells without
some good light.
October 2
I had a few more encounters with wildlife today. I am seeing more and more
whales. They are still keeping their distance. I am not sure I will ever
again get close enough to smell their breath as I did once last summer.
This morning, a very amusing scene disturbed my third hour of rowing. I
was cruising along minding my own business when a squadron of flying fish
landed aboard. One hit my hat, another my shoulder, and three more landed
on deck.
I explained to my visitors that this is no aircraft carrier and that they
would have to leave. It was no easy task catching five fish and tossing
them overboard before they suffocated on my deck. I trapped the first fish
between my bare hands, but imagined that I treated it roughly. The others
I picked up between a bare hand and my bailing sponge. This seemed to go
better for them (and for me too). I could have fried them up for dinner,
but they were very small and I am definitely in a "live and let live" mode
out here. They are such pretty creatures - bright blue backs, white under
bellies, and delicate wings. I can see them leaping out of the water and
sailing through the air most hours of the day. But they are most enjoyable
in the early morning or at sunset.
October 3
This was a very pleasant day. I slept in until 7:30. Sunday is a day of
rest, and a day when I can take care of all those little things that need
fixing. Sunday is the only day when fixing things takes precedence over
rowing. However, the water was a bit calmer than it has been for sometime
so I immediately took up the oars. The easy water did not last, and by
10:00 AM I was looking for a legitimate distraction: something to fix. I
went back to the electrical box. When I sent out two digital pictures
last Thursday, it wiped out my batteries. The pictures should have drained
the batteries a good deal, but they were both in low voltage mode. The
batteries were in such bad shape that I could not make water for the last
two days. They have rallied and I was able to make water today. I suspect
I am not getting all the power my solar panels have to offer and I changed
the wiring configuration coming from the solar regulator. I'll see if it
helps.
I must report a "knockdown." It was not the boat, but its rower that went
down. At 3:30 PM, I let go of my oars to rummage through the snack hold
for some cashews. (The oars are held in place by oarlocks. A flat water
rower would never let go of the oars in this manner as the boat might turn
over, but in a big ocean boat like this the safest thing to do if you are
only going to stop for a minute or two is to let go of the oars and let
them track beside the boat. The very safest thing to do is to take the oars
out, but this is a great bother in a boat that is pitching and rolling.) I
felt the boat surge on top of a renegade swell (a wave running counter to
the typical wave train). I looked up just in time to see this swell catch
the blade of my oar. The oar hooked around with surprising speed and hit
me squarely in the mouth. The blow sent me sprawling across the deck where
I landed ignominiously on my backside. I leapt to my feet, like a young
Muhammad Ali more embarrassed by my knockdown than hurt. I glared in the
direction of the hit and run wave as it scampered off to the East. No harm
done, I still went back after the cashews.
This evening the wind dropped again and gave me a few easy hours of rowing
before a very pretty sunset. I only rowed 10 hours today, but I think I
will sleep through the night. The moon is waning.
October 4
The wind has left me. This morning the seas are calm for the first time in
what seems like a very long time. It is now 12:00 and I've retreated to
the cabin for an hour. I have had about all I can stand of the Ancient
Mariner's "hot and copper sky, the bloody sun at noon, right up above the
mast (my hat)."
Early this morning I saw the most impressive thing. I could hear whales a
few hundred yards off my port side. From their spouts or blows I could
tell that they are a baleen species. Baleen whales have two blowholes,
where toothed whales usually just have one. With a few spouts it was easy
to tell that there were two blowholes. I'd given up hope of seeing more
than an occasional dorsal fin of their dive sequence when one of the whales
breached. I've never seen this before (outside of Sea-World). It took my
breath away. The whale came 3/4 of the way out of the water, nearly vertical
and then did a small turn and landed on its side. It looked like a Minke
whale, but it could have been any of the same family. I was too shocked by
the display to notice more than a great white belly and could guess the
whale's size to be about 30 feet. Definitely bigger than the American
Pearl. I hopped out of my seat to get the camera. I waited hoping another
whale might breech, but it seems they were camera shy.
I may not write for a little while. I had another battery mishap. Last
night, I inadvertently switched on my running lights and they were on all
night. As far out as I am, I usually just have my collision avoidance
radar detector on at night to warn me of oncoming vessels. So far, I've
seen nothing in the way of passing ships. This is not a major trade route.
For the most part it is a popular sailing route, but the sailors will not
be out for another month. The running lights take a tremendous amount of
power. So once I was clear of land, I stopped using them at night. I will
use them again once I get close to shore on the other side. In any event,
my batteries are rather unhappy again. I will send out this e-mail, but
may not retrieve the mail that is waiting for me.
Water is the top priority. I must save my batteries for making water.
This would be drinking water only, until the batteries are back up to a
healthy level. I have plenty of juice coming from my panels, but all this
technology takes power. If I'd not kicked "on" the running lights, all
would be fine. Oh well, I will be more careful.
As ever,
Tori
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