It was nearing time for me to pull up anchor and head back to California. According to the books, the return sail should be done before hurricane season reaches its peak in September. It was now the end of July.
I picked up a used 2 hp outboard as a spare since the one I had was really in poor condition. That engine barely got me out of Keehee Lagoon, but it was soon no longer needed as the wind picked up smartly. As I rounded the leeward side of Oahu, I was to throw a lei in the water. Legend has it that by doing so, some day you would return.
Conditions on the first night heading north were not so bad. I was able to keep the north star slightly off to my left. That assured me that I was headed east of north. The second day I thought I had picked up some debris on my fishing line. There was no fight just a constant drag as if it was a large plastic bag. It turned out to be a beautiful mahi mahi about 5 feet long. I saw its blue yellow green profile shining about 15 feet under the boat. But it snapped the line and got away.
Beginning the second night and continuing for the next four days, I had the worst seasickness in it truest form – headache, nausea, chills, fever, vomiting. It was brought on by the boat’s constantly pounding into the trade wind seas. Every 5 seconds the boat surged upwards and pounded downwards on the backside of the waves. I distinctly remember the boat pounding so hard on one wave that I ran up into the V berth to check on the repair job where I had filled the thru hull holes for the head. The pounding lasted until latitude 27 or 28 when the winds finally died and I was no longer in the trades. As ill as I felt, I now forced myself to eat small tidbits of food and take small sips of water.
Although that first five days heading north was pure misery, everything worked fine including the vane gear and the generator. The top of the working jib, however, was in shreds. Keep in mind that as miserable as it was, the boat had no problem heading north. Just keep the north star off to the left....and each day it was 2 degrees higher.
After all the pounding into the trade winds, at about latitude 27 or 28, I sailed into the high pressure system and the wind died. According to the books I had read, it could have stayed that way for weeks. I took advantage of this by trying to regain some sense of normalcy(???). I was about 600 miles due north (and slightly east of) the Hawaiian Islands. That’s the middle of nowhere. Five miles to the bottom.
I took a sea water shower and ate my first decent meal of fresh cooked spaghetti. I used a can of beef stew as meat sauce and sprinkled parmigiana cheese on top of that. After five days of not eating, I remember that meal as a feast. I also regained regular bowel movements. As it would turn out, the worst was over.
I was becalmed for four days in this particular area. It was quite scenic. The sunrises and sunsets were spectacular. The sea was as flat as your kitchen floor. What I needed was a diesel inboard, but instead I had two non functioning outboards. And even if they worked, they had only a limited range. So I drifted. I rationed my food and water, not that it mattered. I grew tired of the canned food and only ate out of necessity. I felt my self losing weight. On the second day, a school of mahi mahi appeared directly under the keel, so I tried fishing. They did not bite.
Then I noticed that even as calm as it was, the fishing lure went down at an angle. Checking the angle against the compass, the lure appeared to be heading to the south. What that meant was that the boat was riding a northbound current.
On the third day of drifting north, I went rummaging through my provisions and found a bottle of Kalua that someone had given me before I left. I don’t drink alcohol, but half of that bottle went down like chocolate milk. When I "came too" the next day the jib was back winded and I was headed west. I don’t know for how long, but it didn’t last.
With the end of the fourth day came the end of the first spell of no wind. The next day brought 15 knot winds out of the east for 36 hours. This was fantastic. The seas were less than 2 feet and this great wind drove the boat 180 miles in 36 hours. I was headed 35 degrees magnetic, well east of north, and we carved an arc in the sea under full working sails.
Then the wind died for the second time. Now the weather was cooler. No more tropics. Latitude 34, or 35. Grey overcast skies. There were yellow tail under the boat and I caught a small one and cooked it up. The seawater was now cold and this hindered my desire to bathe.
Four more days of no wind. As before, on the 5th day another unforgettable sight. On the northern horizon, as far as I could see, it looked like a never ending team of horses racing from the east to the west. It was the wind. It was a good wind and those horses were wave tops. No more becalmed. This was good wind headed my way and soon the sails began to sing.
There was, of course, just one problem. The number one rule in sailing is that you can’t sail into the wind. And this wind was dead out of the east and that’s the way I wanted to go. For five days I carved a northeast arc in the sea under full working sail area or less. According to the books, the east bound tack should be made around latitude 38.
Meantime, another problem developed that could have caused serious navigational problems. The horizon mirror on the sextant was corroding and there were no spares. Actually, the horizon mirror situation wouldn’t be as bad as I thought at first. It was corroding alright, but I could still make out the horizon, the sun or moon with it. The stars and planets, however, were out of the question. It was very important that northbound, I have the north star for latitude. I could have done noon sights, but this is not a favorite method of mine. It can only be done once a day during the meridian passage of a celestial body. If you don’t catch it right on time you will miss it. This is very tedious and time consuming compared to the relative ease of a Polaris sight, which can be done twice daily at sunrise and sunset.
So I figured thusly: I would sight Polaris through the un-silvered portion of the horizon mirror, just as if I were sighting a star. I would bring the horizon up to the star, swing it upside down (you won’t find that in any book) and I read the arc. I did these sights very carefully as it is not a recommended way of navigating. I figure that the reading had to be accurate to within one degree.
I spent five days headed northeast like a bat out of hell at hull speed or better. It was cold and I kept putting on more layers of clothing. The ride was also getting too ruff to light the stove. The alcohol just wouldn’t stay in the preheat cup. As a result, I was eating beef stew cold, right out of the can. And, I was still losing weight.
After some 30 days of sailing or drifting north, it was becoming a long and arduous voyage. In fact, I had spent too much time headed north. I had long passed latitude 38, but it was not possible to tack east due to the unfavorable wind direction. No problem headed northeast.
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