Wind We Have, but…

Day 20
Noon Position: 5 00.56N 124 55.59W

Course/Speed: SW 5

Wind: SE 20

Sail: Tripple reefed main, double reefed working jib, close hauled

Bar: 1013

Sea: SE to 6 and 8 late in the day

Sky: Clear

Cabin Temp: 84 (79 in the cabin when I woke. A first in days.)

Water Temp: 78 
Miles last 24-hours: 116

Miles since departure: 2408

The change from one day to the next can be startling. Yesterday, low cloud, squall and inconsistent winds. Today, clear blue sky and a solid and increasing southeast wind. 

The challenge today has been how to handle this newfound resource, which is to say, what course and what set of sail gets us where we need to go with some speed but without treating Mo like a junk yard dog.

Mo and I haven’t done much upwind work, so I’ve spent most of the day on deck. By noon we had 20 knots on the nose (NOT in the forecast), and I’ll just say that there isn’t all that much one can do to climb in such a wind at sea. I’ve now gotten us all the way down to a tripple reefed main and a double reefed working jib, and 75 degrees true with 5 knots or so of speed is about the best I can do. 

Plowing into the oncoming stream such that water gets down the dorades and falling off a wave onto one’s bilge such that Mo shudders as if she’s coming unglued has some charm, just not very much. It’s wearing, and the profit is disappointingly small, which gives me renewed respect for Chay Blythe, who went around the world in just such a fashion.

I’m very worried not to get too far west, as then lining up for the west side of the South Pacific high could be awkward business. I also want to start making up some of the average daily miles we lost dawdling above the ITCZ. 

At moment, I’m not getting either. I’m still cheating the course a bit too much, and every few minutes Mo pays for this sin by taking a wave over the bow and then falling on her side. She makes me pay by tossing my coffee in my face and then ensuring that the cookie I’m aiming for my mouth ends up in my ear.

We are in the relm of the Gadfly Petrel, which I now see in fives and tens cutting up the air like small Albatross. Also, the flying fish flush in herds down here. To starboard, a hundred will take to the air at once, a sprinkling of pale blue diamonds skipping over the obsidian water.