Hi everybody, on wednesday 6th of June at 1500 LT we arrived on Santa Cruz, Galapagos. It took us nearly two weeks to get here from the Las Perlas islands and we're glad to be able to spend a week here to reprovision, sort things out and of course to have a look at some of Galapagos' famous wildlife, before we get on the big crossing to the Marquesas islands, French Polynesia.
Here's some notes I took during the passage.
Panama - Galapagos Diary
23.05.12 Now Pacific!
After Panama-City, and, off course the whole Canal-business, we had our first day of sailing today, in the Pacific Ocean. Well, motor-sailing, but it'S a start! Fair weather, not much wind, and pretty much on the nose. A little taste of our upcoming passage to the Galapagos? On verra.
Had two bites but escaped because of shitty rod-holder. Thanks to Olly's determination - 'I've gotta sort that shit out!' - we would have more luck later. Some ten miles out I saw something floating in the water ahead, which I first thought was a log. Coming closer I saw movement and realized it was a turtle and that it was cought up in a piece of fishing net.As we turned around we sawit was quite a big leather-back turtle and it looked at us sad and scared and exhausted. Olly and I grabbed it and managed to cut it free after a while. It didn't resist or fight us much, did it understand? Foolish thought probably... Anyways, it felt good to it swim away and dive and disappear into the blue. With our gained good Karma we had more luck fishing, and even though the big, big bull mahi- mahi that had been circling the turtle ( was it waiting for it's share of a fiest?) wasn't interested in our brand new Yo-Zuri minnows, a smaller fellow of his species took one of the lures shortly after. Olly reeled it in and prepared it for a bbq dinner in the Perlas islands later on. And when we went around a reef in front of 'Pacheca' we had another big hit. It put up a bit of a fight when I reeled it in, which Olly caught on video. Turned out to be a big grouper, 10 to 15 lbs. Having caught our dinner already, we took the hooks out and let it go.
'Pacheca' is the northernmost of the Perlas islands and it's full of birds. The anchorage is very calm and we share it only with the Swedes that who arrived an hour after us. We invited them over and will share our catch with them, we're such good people taday... and we love our 'Sweets'! The calm and peace that surrounds us feels good after all this time spent in big busy cities. But it also reminds me of my time in the San Blas. I wish I had my girl with me right now.
The sky looks amazing in this sunset. Dark blue to purple to yellowy orangeover pink back to purple and blue. All in one cloud. And reflected in the water below.
Forgot this marlin we saw juping. Huge thing, completely cleared the water surface about ten times in a row.It all shows how much more alive these waters are than most of the Atlantic, especially the Caribbean; and it gives us hope for a healthy diet and lots of fun during the crossings.
24.05.12 La Contadora
Last night was not the greatest of nights. After getting up at five a.m. yesterday and a whole day in the sun, we went to bed at about ten, shattered. Just for Olly to wake me up at eleven, saying, that we we're touching ground. And indeed, after a windshift we'd swung around ant come closer to shore, and with the tide having dropped a whole 4,60 metres, we we're scratchingcoral with the bottom of the keel. No major problem yet, but how much more would the water drop? I decided to manoeuver the stern of the boat as far as possible out of the bay, still hanging on our anchor, and then to drop our Danforth as a stern anchor to keep us away from shore. Said and done, later that night thunder and lightning kept me up again. Might as well get used to shitty nighty of sleep...
After a barnacle scratching session in the morning (Barracuda was so covered in them that I ask myself whether this bottom paint prevents or actually induces growth...), we took up anchor and headed the three miles down to Isla Contadora. This time we dropped anchor nice and deep at nine metres. There's a few boats anchored here and the whole island is so small and cosy, and well-kept that it reminds me of the Grenadines' Mustique. We were able to re-fill the ten litres of diesel, that we used up so far from a small shop from a barrel in their back yard. Fuel sorted we went up to 'Gerald's', a an idyllic restaurant run by a german fella, for a cold beer and the skype- date with my sweet-heart. I even got to speak to my Dad in between, and had a real german roast. Enjoying last comforts of civilization...
25.05.12 Departure day
This night was a little better, started it with headphones in hammock, escaping the heat of the cabin, then moved inside. Got woken up by thunder and lightning at around three a.m. and sat in the cockpit under our bimini waiting watching the almost constant flickering of the lightning and being skptical about the anchor. But it all turned out to be fine and I went back to bed. After breakfast we got picked up by the Swedes, Henrik stayed on 'Birka' to fix his throttle stick (haha!), Kikicame to land with us to get some diesel. Waiting for the shop to open we went to check out a derilict hotel complex, built and later abandoned by a druglord, as some locals told us. The thing is huge and spread all over the nicest bay of the island. Even their old catamaran-ferry is stranded ashore and rotting away like the rest.
Out in the anchorage the wind got northerly (!) and the sea pretty choppy. After Kiki got her diesel, and we ourselves some more fresh food, we make our way back to the well-rocking boats. It's early afternoon now andwe're getting ready to make a move.
We take up the dinghy and go, I follow Henrik through the islands. There's a nice WSW breeze. Soon enough we can turn off the engine and leave the Perlas sailing over starboard. Having cleared the islands, a portside tack takes us down south towards our first waypoint. It's getting dark and slowly we lose sight of 'Birka's feeble light. We're having today's catch for dinner, a sort of wahoo-tuna-mackerel by the looks of it, with what's left of the carrots; they've already started to rot...
26.05.12 Second day
The night is pretty calm and smooth, only in the early morning we have to motor for a few hours when the wind dies. We are doing our watch-keeping system of four times three hours on and off, with a half hour in between shifts. Olly starts at 2030. After an amazingly alright first night (usually it takes me a couple of nights to get tired enough to actually be able to sleep, and this tiredness I won't get rid of for the rest of the crossing... Fingers crossed for this one!), I'm having my breakfast at seven in the morning, coffee, strong, with bread and honey/ jam and peanut- butter and an orange, couldn't wish for more. This is my favourite time of day, together maybe with the evening, just before sunset, when the air starts cooling down and you can feel the ocean breathe out. I'm trying to give 'Birka' a morning call on the VHF, but no answer, itseems we've lost contact already. It's overcast with dark clouds and the remainders of a thunderstorm which we could see hang in front of us all night long, gives us a little rain. Some freighters pass in front of us, then a navy ship comes straight at us. I don't give in and eventually he passes on our starboard side. There's also some small fishing boats still out here. They've brought out some kind of fishing gear, marked with jerry- cans and little buoys with flagpoles on top. We sail straight through the area. Around eleven in the morning I catch a small bull mahi-mahi, perfect for two people and one day. I filet it , which takes me about half an hour, it's a lot trickier than the easy- going tuna. The two bigger filets I marinate with teriyaki- sauce and ginger, the rest we're having with for lunch as sushimi with soy- sauce, wasabi and and fresh veg. Later this afternoon we're having a pineapple (amazing!), for dinner a little hors d'oeuvre by Olly (Ritz crackers topped with mayo, onion, olive and balsamic), then the fish with curry- pineapple rice. Never lived as healthy as on this crossing!
Just after lunch unfortunately the wind dies and we have to motor, with just the mainsail flapping back and forth. Too bad we don't have an autopilot (the windvane doesn't work in such light conditions), we have to take shifts helming in th blistering heat. I see at least two other sailing boats at the horizon and ask for a radio- check on channel 16. Maybe our our VHF radio isn't working properly and that's why we don't get any response from 'Birka'. To my astonishment I get my check (which is positive) from the guys from 'Kira', the two young german fellas we keep meeting randomly since the San Blas islands. They're going the same bearing and a similar 3,5 to 4 knots on the engine, so we see them all night longand keep in touch on the radio. They say they expect westerly winds for tomorrow, hopes up! Apart from this encounter, the ocean, though very calm is entertainment in itself. It is so full of rettwith 'Barracuda' for about an hour or so (they're BIG and they do amazing jumps, clearing the air by several metres. We take some photos and videos and I lie down flat on the foredeck and I can almost touch them. One of them turns on it's side and eyes me for a few seconds. It's a mystical experience).
We also see another leatherback turtle, this time swimming freely, and last but not least a big dorsal fin is coming towards us, curving it's way through the surface of the sea. First I think it's a shark, but as it comes closerto check us out it swims parallel and spreads out it's fin. It is a big and spiky fin and it shimmers in a dark purple. It's the 'sail' of a very large sailfish. We are very excited as it swims past, fin still sticking out of the water, and towards the three different lures we're trawling. But it turns away and dives. Still we half expect one of the reels to start screaming with the line speeding out, and we're at the ready. But nothing happens.
It's strange how everybody thinks that long-distance sailing is boring, including yourself after a while on land. I feels like I don't even get everything done that I wanted to do. Not the essential things, but small things really. I definitely haven't been bored so far. Just the routine, like cooking, washing up, having breakfast, etc. take up so much time. Then for me there's the whole navigating and Olly's pretty much constantly busy with the fishing gear. Then a bit of reading and the day's over. The night really is the time of peace, relaxation and often a thrilling mystic and uncertainty at the same time.
27.05.12 Day three
This morning I woke up by myself and was fit and wide awake, ready for the day! On my first shift, earlier this morning I had my music on, as usual, with High Contrast getting me through the night. I see a single dolphin cruise with 'Barracuda' through the calm water. He leaves an amazing fluorescent trail, when he dives under the boat, a ghostly green shimmering path that keeps glowing for several seconds. Then, out of nothing we hit something and it gives me a start out of mytiredness. I can't see anything in the water, only some fluorescence stirred up around the boat. It was no hard hit, more a gentle bump, and I don't worry much, we're steel after all. I can't stop picturing a whale, sleeping innocently, being freaked out of his sweet dreams...
Not much happening later, see a shark fin cruise towards us, then soar away incredibly fast. Then I text our position to Pa and 'Birka', Henrik answers, they're a good 20 miles ahead, motorsailing like us. After engine on and off all day we get a steady breeze during the night, which gets us slowly further south.
28.05.12 Day four
This morning I woke up and was still sleepy and tired. I'm making coffee, and as it's filling up, the thing falls over and spills coffee all over the cooker. Great! I drink the sip that's left and start over again. There's many little things I want to do after breakfast, like writing this diary/ journal, texting Amelia my best wishes for tomorrow (turns out, she had her first day today, it's monday already!, so all I can do is ask how it went), but first of all I'm letting out two fishing lines. Soon enough I see the first rod jerking and start reeling it in. I can't believe my eyes when I see I've got two small bonitos on the same lure! When I see samething being dragged over the surface where the second lure should be, I know I've got another one. After having the first fish in form of a sushimi for an early lunch, a dark front of clouds catches up with us and everything turns into shit. In short: we get pissed on by heavy rain for the next four hours. Great thing for an hour to re-fill the water tanks, bloody annoying for the other three. The wind switches between howling gusts that make acrobatic sailchanges on the foredeck necessary, and periods of zero wind in still choppy seas. Now the wind has died on us again after turning against us and we're bopping around on the waves like a toy in a bathtub. With banging sails.
29.05.12 Day five
Ouff, what a frustration yesterday! But after a day like this I can'T stop asking myselfwhat the hell I'm doing here and what for?! And the same applies to Olly and I think most people, I think. (his vision is to sit in front of a cosy fire back home in England, with this weather locked out, it's only impact being the sound of the wind and the rain against the window. His phantasy also includes take- away chinese, telly). Oh well, there'll be times for this, and this time I feel ready to settle down (after this trip) and enjoy the comforts and the security of it, at least for a while, before having to run off into some new adventure again.
Well, aboard everything's back to 'normal', hardly any wind, motoring, just had breakfast, drying clothes. The engine bilge filled up really quickly over night, maybe these bolts that hold the shaft packing just come loose from the vibrations. Later I fill about 18 litres of diesel in the tank, then it's (already!) full. We used about 18 litres in the last 15 hours of motoring, which is surprisingly little to me, even with these low rpm.
During my morning shift I get to see Malpelo island in the distance ahead. No reason to shout 'Land Ho!' though, this island belonging to Colombia is a mere steep rock in the middle of nowhere, uninhabited except for some boobies and other seabirds, impossible to stop there with a boat. It takes us all day motoring to actually get there and we pass it with a ten mile clearance to it's west. Leaving Malpelo behind we finally get a steady south western breeze of about 10-12 knots. We beat over port going down south to get a better angle for our (hopefully final) starboard tack towards the Galapagos.
I'm only slowly getting to terms with the fact that this is actually a long passage and that it will take us a long time to reach the islands. It'S all about acceptance, I'm still half in denial. I guess what Ronald said is true: 'After one week it doesn't matter anymore haw long the crossing's gonna take.' You just roll with it. There's nothing you can do, but do your best, sail as fast as you can.
30.05.12 Day six
This was the first night we could take 15 minute naps during our nightshifts, which makes life a lot easier. The winds got pretty steady, the self-steering works well and we're far out, away from shipping lanes. At six in the morning we tack and sail over starboard, about 270°. Now it's a waiting game. The winds veer more towards the south during the day, which enables us to almost head straight towards Galapagos. They also become stronger and the higher waves that come with it make sailing quite uncomfortable. We're leaning about 15°-25° and hell, we're rocking, hitting the waves hard. Doing the littlest things becomes a challenge, cooking an absolute pain. That's why we're having tuna salad for lunch. Even cutting up all the veg is a (dangerous) mission. For dinner the leftover is upgraded to a tuna pasta salad.
Today I want to figure out, why everybody is ignoring my sat-phone mails. I try calling my dad - he has his phone off. I can't believe it. Everybody back home is encouraging us to buy that damn thing, but obviously just for their own sake; in a 'if they get in trouble, they can call for help' - sense. Fair enough. But that it might be nice to hear the voices of the ones you love after a week out at sea - no one seems to care too much... I call ma and she picks upat least and it's lovely to speak to her for a few minutes.
31.05.12 Day seven
During the night everything calmed down a bit and we did some smooth sailing. Another relaxed night, chill shifts, none of the threatening dark clouds got us this time, just distant thunder rumbling behind us, and a well-lit (fishing?) boat passed behind us. Wind's picking up a little again, I'm a little worried about the genoa - the clew reinforcement is starting to deteriate, let's see if it's gonna hold, if not I'll have to stitch, which is no fun at all on a rocking boat.
Looks like we're in the trade-wind zone now, the breeze has gotten very constant. 414 miles to go. Maybe I can get through to my folks by texting on their folks by texting on their phones.
After scrambled eggs and baked beans for lunch, I swop the genoa for the jib ehile I quickly stitch the clew and Olly puts it back up. I check the sat-phone and see that finally we've got a few texts: One from 'Birka', saying the wind should stay like this for the next 36 hours, one from Olly's folks, and one from Amelia. I'm so glad to hear from her. I try to call her new cell, but no one picks it up. I'll try again tomorrow. We're still beating and beating into the waves and it gets pretty rough at times during the night, but the genoa holds up.
01.06.12 Day eight
Wow, June, time's still flying! The sailing's kind of same thing all the time right now, no point in saying much about it, the boat steers itself, we're just hanging around, living, routine, reading, fishing. fishing today was awesome actually, Olly got a good size mahi-mahi, we love our sushimi, thanks Sweets! Then we got another one, my turn to fight it. Big fucker this time, took a while to get him tired. We got really good at the whole gaffing business, despite the estimated 30 lbs, Olly whacks him into the cockpit in one fluid movement. There it goes nuts. Olly does his best to pin it down to floor by trying to stand on it (which results in him getting covered in fishblood, just after the first shower in like 5 days). Trying to help calm the thing down I throw a piece of cloth ofer it's eyes and try the rum-in-gills trick that people told us about, approaching it with a sharp object like a knife in order to kill seems foolish and dangerous for both fish and people involved, at this state. Our fish is not a fan of rum, at least not our cheap 'Cortez' and gets angry again, biting Olly's hand repeatedly (through the cloth, thank fuck), and continues beating and slapping us, threatening to jump out of the cockpit. Eventually we manage to wrestle it down together and I end the slightly grotesque episode by a stab to heart and head.
The cockpit and Olly are a bloody mess and we proceed with cleaning and taking some pics for the blog. It's for too much meat for just the two of us to handle (without a fridge), so we filet one half for ourselves, which we partly salt and dry, partly fry and put into jars; the rest we let the family on 'Alouette' who is still closeby pick up. They come alongside to a few metres distance and one of the kids casts over a line which we tie the halfed fish to. Strange being so close to another boat that for out.
After this the day takes a bad turn, we both go down with minor food-poisoning, violently throwing up over the side. Don't keep canned chicken overnight!
02.06.12 Day nine
Now what's the wind doing and WHERE ARE WE?!
Eating out of boredom, 'let's have some fucking chocolate!' Crunch. 'Feels like having robbed a shop'.
03.06.12 Day ten
First sign of mental health issues? Or just cravings for chocolate?
I'm writing this during my morning shift, outside in the cockpit and I'm wearing two pairs of trousers and two sweaters. It's freezing out here. I'm beginning to understand why there's penguins out here on these islands.
Encounter with 'Alouette' on high seas. They helped us eat this big mahi-mahi, which was far too much for us to eat.
Overall, fishing was really good on this trip. This tuna being one of the highlights.
Aaand some shots that the guys from 'Alouette' took at our encounter. Cheers!
