October 10, 2018
Noon Position: 24 43N 132 13W
Course/Speed: SxW 6
Wind: NxE 7 – 12
Sea: NNE 6+
Sky: Mostly clear
Bar: 1016, falling
Cabin Degrees Fahrenheit: 75
Water Degrees Fahrenheit: 74
Percent Relative Humidity: 69
Sail: Both genoas poled out; they take wind on port quarter.
Noon-to-Noon Miles Made Good: 144
Avg. Miles/Day: 159
Miles since departure: 953
Sergio is on his way toward Baja, which opens the gate south. And if that wasn’t enough good news, we now have brilliant sun.
Suddenly, the sea is a living jewel, an undulating, sparkling sapphire under an azure sky, and I think to myself, if we must have a heaven, this would do nicely.
The wind, however, remains unabashedly inconsistent. Now from a touch W of N; then swinging all the way to NE; then back. Now 8 knots; half an hour later and it’s blowing 17. And the swells rolling through are not from here; some bigger blow up north made them.
Monte (my Monitor windvane) has been steering since W of the Farallon Islands, and lately his course fails the straightness test as he follows this snaky wind.
Monte: Whoa! I steer most beautiful-like. Porque this insult?
Randall: Hey, no criticism. You tend to favor wind direction as your guide is all. So our course these last couple days wanders back and forth a bit. That’s all.
Monte: Why all this talk of straight, Senior? Why? Look out there. Do you see one straight thing before you? No, not at all. All is with curve: the waves and the waves inside the waves, the clouds and the clouds within them, the shape of the sail, the hull of the boat, your cabbages. Even the horizon, which he looks a little flat, is a round. We follow the wind because she knows the way; she knows her way around. (Monte says the last bit slowly and with emphasis and then breaks into laughter.) Ah. Whee. Whaa. I am very good today.
By the way, Senior, you seem better.
Monte: Yes. On the first few days, you were not yourself. You did not see the beauty; only the loneliness and the very long way ahead and no comfortable bed next to your wife. Now you seem … like you are one of us again.
Randall: Leaving can be tough. We weren’t home long…
Monte: …long enough for me. After a time my Seniorita she starts talking about making plans; then I know it is time to go.
Randall: …and the South will be difficult, as we now know from experience. I have a different plan, but is it the right plan? Did I prepare well. Am I strong enough.? Do I have the will to make it non-stop to the North? And the North, gah; I just want to get there…then we’ll see.
Monte: You only have to want it and to be ready. The rest will take care of itself because the rest you cannot control. In the mean time, I am pleased to be again your famous Portolano. Now, if you will leave the steering to me, I would be most obliged!
And so I have.
Mo has been a smoother ride since I put her before the wind. So on to some hygiene chores, like a shave and a haircut.