February 14, 2018 - Sailing to Jaluit

February 14, 2018

It’s Valentine’s Day today and we made it to Jaluit.  

We left yesterday, Feb 13 from Eneko at about 11:30 am so we would be able to get into Jaluit as the tide was going in, rather than out.

Our sail through Majuro lagoon was uneventful except for seeing Vava ll leaving the same day as well as having some tech issues that Pete was thankfully able to fix, esp. the auto helm. Without it, we would have had to manually steer the boat for the next 24 hours. Not something to look forward to even though we do split time into 4 hour shifts so that no one is ‘driving’ the boat without a break.

However, the shift thing didn’t work so well. As we left the pass and got out onto the oceanside of Majuro Atoll, the wind was blowing at 20 -25 knots and the waves were a good 12 to 14 feet. Pete was hopeful the waves would smooth out a bit soon after we passed the last islands and fully into the ocean a few miles off shore. In the meantime, the waves towering over the boat along with the hard and unpredictable winds were not very welcome for me. Miss Kiss would ride up to the top of a wave, then swiftly surf down turning left into the trough of the wave and then switching to the right ready to climb another. For a bit I did fine, just a bit and suddenly it was difficult for me to feel comfortable walking around the outdoor cabin area where we needed to be to man the sails, keep watch and steer in case auto helm decided he wasn’t going to perform again. Sitting in the back of the hulls didn’t work for long and suddenly, I found myself sitting on top of the engine compartment staring at the floor between my feet unable to look at the towering waves with their churning that was basically doing the same with all my insides, too. A couple of shots of rum to calm my nerves (The first one worked okay so a while later decided one more was needed.) along with a couple of very careful trips to the head, sitting down on the top step before proceeding below, again worked and for quite a while longer. After an hour or so, the waves became calmer and were down to 5 -6 feet.  “Is this what it’s supposed to be like?”, I asked Pete for the second time and certainly liked his “Yes.” answer much better. 

Great, I can do this even with the high winds as he had already decided to take down the main sail with me steering the boat towards shore and into the wind before we even got out to the channel and had also reefed in the head sail. So, sailing was good, great and we were comfortably on our way, but I was still nervous about my shifts and my insides were still not terrifically happy, but, we were out on the open seas and beginning a new adventure.

That feeling didn’t last too long. After an hour or so of ‘peaceful’ calm, the waves kicked up to 10 – 12 feet again with some converging 12-14 foot waves looming over the boat and the winds decided to play more games as well. Having enough of the cabin, I went inside to sit down in the salon. It was then I realized that the waves were sometimes/often crashing into the middle of the catamaran underneath the galley/salon area. They hit with such force that the heavy wooden table with cabinets below would literally jump a few inches off the floor. Between that, the vibrations of the floor, the loud crashing sounds and items flying around inside, I soon had images of the water bursting right through the floor. So, I decided to sit on the top step going below and hung on for dear life, again looking at the floor to avoid seeing the waves towering over the back and sides of the boat before they hit with full force.

24 hours, 24 hours; it’s just one day, one day in your life and then we’ll be there. In a lifetime really how much was 24 hours considering 57 years and hopefully many more to go? Pete came in and asked if laying down would help. I felt bad because now he was stuck with doing all the work as his one-person crew turned into a wimp. However, I decided to try lying down and maybe even sleep if it meant getting up and hopefully being of some help. Well, that worked for a short bit, but I knew sleep would never come at that point, so it was back up to the salon where I curled up into a ball on my seat and closed my eyes taking trips to the head every once in a while. Finally, at about 11 pm, I asked Pete if he was okay with my going down to try and sleep. He was fine with that idea, even though at this point he’d had the helm for ten hours or more.

Waking up at a little before 4 am, I noticed Pete had put a small, thin cushion on the floor of the galley in order to try and get some rest himself. Feeling pretty badly about letting him down, my hope was to at least keep watch with him, even though I wasn’t the greatest company, again sitting in my chair curled up hoping these sick feelings would go away. He said he had something to show me outside and after several minutes, worked up the courage to step outside for the first time in well over half a day. He pointed to some stars and I knew they were the Southern Cross. My heart sang, I’d been wanting to see it since arriving in Majuro, but never seemed to manage being up at 4 am.  Next to and behind the boat were glowing flashes of light swirling as the water churned up the phosphorescence of the ocean water. It was all so magical, but I barely left the scuppers and soon was back inside in the ‘safety’ of the salon with the waves still churning and beating the floor.

Pete decided to try to rest on the floor again and feeling a bit better, I sat by the Simrad and watched to make sure we were still on course, once getting outside for a regular check to see what was happening all around us – nothing but waves. By the time for my second check, Pete was already up again having gotten about 40 minutes rest. The sun was beginning to come up and again I counted to hours to go and compared them to the hours past – 18 hours down and about 6 to go. I can do this, I have to, but what about the trip from Jaluit to Kosrae, I thought? Well, you’ll have survived 24 hours when we get to Jaluit, after my only other trip on the open ocean, the hour and a half to Arno, I can do twice as long as this next time.  I just prayed the winds and waves would be kinder so Pete can get breaks with my actually doing my part as crew.

Finally, the waves calmed and I went outside to see Jaluit Atoll several miles away. We made our way through the channel and into the calm waters of the lagoon, set the anchor, finished our work and jumped into the cool clear waters of the lagoon.  Anchoring in about 60 feet of water, we could see the fish and coral at the bottom of the lagoon. We cleaned up and kayaked to shore to pay anchoring fees and get a feel of the island.

Since we were the only sailboat anchored as far as we could see, we figured we’d probably stand out a bit on island. The people were so friendly and helped direct us where we needed to go. Along the way the children came up to us with smiles and greetings and men in passing cars nodded their heads in welcome and said “Yokwe”. We’d brought copies of the Marshall Island Journal with us and left one at the police station and gave one to the lovely young lady who checked us in. Next, we went to the school and I arranged a meeting with Tom, the principal, so he could copy all my curriculum and reading programs onto his computer for the teachers to use.

We walked back to the dock and our kayaks with children waiting for us with much to say, all in Marshallese, and pointing to a couple of the boys. From my experience in Majuro, I figured they wanted candy, as I used to walk down the street and hand out a treat to kids along the way. So, I told them we’d see them tomorrow. When we got to the kayaks, we’d realized that they had been playing in them and understood that the boys were trying to tell us who’d been in the kayaks.  I had been careful to keep mine dry after cutting my foot pretty good at Eneko a few days before and had just dressed the wounds for the walk on island. Both kayaks were quite wet inside and you could tell that whoever had been inside had had some fun with them, Pete even had to drain his. We smiled as no harm had been done and waved goodbye; until tomorrow.

 

Land Ho! First sigh of Jaliut Atoll

Good bye, Majuro and Eneko Island.

Vava II Superyacht in Majuro