Harmonie - Passage Summary - Sri Lanka to Chagos

Passage Summary - Sri Lanka to Chagos

Harmonie

Don and Anne Myers

Sat 7 Apr 2012 11:11

5:21.239S 72:12.619E

March 23, 2012 - March 31, 2012

Two down, two to go.

Unfortunately, the next two Indian Ocean passages are longer, and won't be as tame as the two just finished - but, that's not to say we aren't thrilled with our progress so far. We are more than one-third, and slightly less than one-half of the way across the Indian Ocean, and it feels darn good. In three weeks time, I'm sure we'll be raring to go for that next 1,300 miles. The wind will certainly be more helpful then, and it's possible we'll sail the 1,300 miles to Mauritius in the same amount of time it took us to motor and sail the shorter distance from Sri Lanka. We really don't mind a challenging passage if the wind is blowing and we're sailing fast in the right direction.

So, Sri Lanka to Chagos. What a pleasantly calm passage. In fact, it might qualify as the most pleasant passage we've ever had - which is quite an honor for a passage. Here's the lowdown:

Total nautical miles traveled - 900. Our planned route was 866 miles, so our actual route was slightly circuitous in that it took us 34 miles out of the way. All things considered though, 34 extra miles is not too bad given the persistent light winds and occasional bouts with breezes from the wrong direction.

Total time - 7 days, 21 hours

Total time sailing - 5 days, 3 hours (65%)

Total time motoring and motorsailing - 2 days, 18 hours (35%)

Average speed - 4.8 knots (5.5 mph) Veeerrrrrry slow. Almost the slowest ever (even with positive current pushing us along nearly the whole way). But, we are proud of the fact that we sailed with less than 10 knots of wind a good chunk of the time. Before this passage, if you were to ask us if we thought it possible to sail nearly 5 days with less than 10 knots of wind, we would have said no way. It's good we're still learning what Harmonie can do five years into our circumnavigation. Imagine how savvy we'll be in another five.

Degrees of latitude traveled - 12 to the south (crossed from the northern to southern hemisphere)

Degrees of longitude traveled - 8 to the west. We ditched that half time zone we had in Sri Lanka, and are now 9 hours ahead of EST. Not that it matters - no one has erected cell phone towers in the middle of oceans yet, so our tired, little, old fashioned Nokia cell phone purchased way back when in New Zealand is getting a well deserved rest in the cookie tin where it is safe and sound from stealthy lightning strikes.

Lowest wind - 1.2 knots (1.4 mph) We did very well sailing in light wind, but 1.2 knots was a trifle below our limit.

Highest wind - 15 knots (17 mph) The wind was higher than 10 knots (and less than 15) for only 24 out of the total 189 hours. If that's not a calm passage, we'd be hard pressed to find one with less wind.

Lowest cabin temperature - 83F (7 in the morning of the fifth day, just after exiting the ITCZ)

Highest cabin temperature - 93F(4 in the afternoon of the sixth day) Our temperature range tolerance has gotten so narrow that ten degrees feels like a lot. We start to get the tiniest bit chilly around 83F, and are definitely sweating by 93F. When we get to Mauritius in a month we'll be downright shivering in 78 degrees.

Number of near calamities - None. Well, except for the autopilot that refused to speak for the second time. No worries though - Don has since cleaned the motor brushes and their housings, and the autopilot once again chatters if not happily, then at least complacently.

Number of exceptional challenges - None. Although, there was plenty of ship traffic that first evening out of Sri Lanka...but it was nothing like crossing the Singapore Strait, so it doesn't really rate as an exceptional challenge. Then there were those heroic mid-ocean prop-cleaning dives Don made in 4,000 meters. Those could be considered borderline exceptional - mostly because of the deep water. Not that the water depth really matters when you're only dealing with the top few meters, but the just the thought of the abyss lurking below kept me out of the water.

Number of dinners consisting of microwaved frozen casseroles - None. A miracle happened and most dinners were cooked fresh.

Number of seasickness pills consumed - None. We would have questioned our own seaworthiness had we downed any pills on this trip.

Number of flying fish on deck - None. In fact, there were no fish on deck at all. Not for lack of effort - the fishing line was out nearly every day, but apparently the tuna and mahi-mahi took one look at our fake pink squid and decided its extraordinarily slow speed was a sign of some kind of defect. They all steered clear of the thing and never gave it nudge or a nibble.

Number of dolphin sightings - Lots. We lost count. However, after the evening of day 6 when they came around at shower time and were shocked to see us sipping tea instead, they never came back. Sigh. Proof, perhaps, that their intentions were devious all along.

This passage may have spoiled us for all future passages during which we might actually have to work hard for our arrival champagne, but easy ones don't come all that often, so we celebrated our arrival in Chagos anyway. Besides, what's not to celebrate? This is a place where the only sounds are the surf rolling into the reef surrounding the lagoon, a sigh from the rigging when the light breeze cycles briefly up over ten knots, and the clicking chatter coming from the bevy of brown noddys perched on our bow acting like they own the place. One week has gone by already and I can't really say exactly what we've done with all that time. A good bit of it has been spent trying to reason with the brown noddys. We tried talking nicely to them, explaining that if they didn't invite too many friends and promised to sit with their butts hanging overboard, they could stay on the bow. Regrettably, the birds never held up their end of the bargain. Instead, they've ignored our polite pleas and invited the whole local brown noddy community over, telling them they can sit willy-nilly on our bow with butts pointed in every direction creating the inevitable piles of poop. We've since gotten more aggressive and started shooing instead of pleading. The shooing was only semi-effective, so we've now moved on to nastier tactics. The cheap gin in the spray bottle we use to anesthetize a caught fish was replaced with water and we've been using it to squirt the noddys at close range. No more Mr. Nice-Guy. So far, so good - like our cat at home, the brown noddys aren't too keen on a face full of water.

Lots of other events have been going on this past week in Chagos as well. Tomato watching is one particularly fascinating happening. More on that titillating topic later.

Anne