Passage Summary and Pictures - Chagos to Mauritius

Harmonie
Don and Anne Myers
Tue 15 May 2012 05:14
20:09.596S  57:29.840E

April 28, 2012 - May 5, 2012


Well.  That was something.
The Indian Ocean does have a nasty reputation, and it appears we got a taste of it on this trip.  The only reason we were a bit surprised by it all is the initial forecast from Bruce (and the GRIB files) indicated the passage would be fairly benign, with winds only as high as 22 knots.  However, what happened was that the ITCZ moved south sooner and faster than any of us anticipated, leaving us to wallow in its southern edge for a day or two, and then with Bruce's help, do our best to outrun the low that formed just to its south.  None of that could have been easily predicted a week in advance, or even a few days in advance.  The thing is, although the winds were higher than we would have liked, they weren't scary high.  The highest sustained winds we had were about 33 knots, with gusts going a little higher.  We don't love wind that strong, but we've sailed in higher (sustained in the upper 30's with gusts to the low 40's).  The three-day trip from Fiji to Vanuatu in 2008 comes to mind as one example.  The difference this time was the angle of the wind and the state of the sea.  When the wind first started to pick up, we were sailing what for us is very close to the wind - about 50 to 60 degrees.  There are two problems with sailing at this wind angle.  First, the boat's forward motion adds to the wind speed.  So, if the true wind is blowing at 27 knots, and we are sailing close-hauled at 8 knots, the apparent wind is 30+ knots.  Second, when sailing close-hauled and fast in high wind, the boat bashes headlong into the waves, causing horrendous slamming when the bow flies off the crest of one wave and smashes onto the next.  When this happens, it feels like the whole boat is going to crack open like an egg.  It doesn't, of course, but we still cringe in a big way when the bow starts to slam badly, and usually do our best to slow the boat down to reduce the slamming intensity.  So, sailing into the wind is not our favorite sailing angle, but we did it for three days, before turning a bit more west to put the wind almost on the beam (90 degrees), where it remained for the next two days.  Wind on the beam is better than wind forward of the beam (at least the boat speed doesn't add to the wind speed, and bow slamming is reduced, if not eliminated), but in big seas, it's not nice to have waves hit the boat sidelong.  Taking big waves on the beam can cause the boat to roll more than you'd like it to.  It was somewhat of a relief during the last two days when we received the go ahead from Bruce to point directly toward Mauritius, which meant the wind was then slightly behind the beam.  Wind and waves behind the beam are always, always better than forward of it.  Even though we had some of the highest wind toward the end of the trip, it didn't seem so bad because the apparent wind was lower.

About the sea state.
Ugly.  This area is notorious for ugly seas, and they were.  They were irregular, with a shorter distance between them than we would have liked.  The waves were mostly from the same direction, which was a plus, but in general, the sea looked a mess from our vantage point.  When we had trouble spotting a 900 foot long freighter just three miles away in broad daylight, we realized just how bad it was out there (we knew the ship was there based on AIS and radar, we just had trouble spotting it visually).  It seemed to us that the state of the sea did not match the wind speed.  We expect rough seas in thirty knots of wind, but not usually to the degree we saw on this trip.

A bit of drying out.
So, what can you do?  We've been spoiled by easy passages for a long time, so maybe it's good to have a wake-up call.  Aside from some weight loss and a brief bout of seasickness for me, the two of us didn't suffer.  The boat did well.  We lost the steaming light off the mast, which Don says was a cheesy installation anyway.  We'll replace it before we leave Mauritius.  The mizzen sail suffered some surface damage when we reefed it in high wind (in-mast furling).  There was also about 6" on one mizzen sail seam that blew out.  The surface damage has already been patched over and the seam re-stitched.  Part of the stitching holding the canvas sun cover to the bottom edge of the genoa came undone, but will be easily re-stitched when we take the sail down.  Other than all of that, we had to dry out three of the deck lockers (and their contents).  The two bow lockers took on some seawater (no surprise there given the amount of seawater crashing into the bow), but the thing that surprised us most was the 4"-6" of seawater in the lazarette (stern locker).  With all the water flying over the deck and draining off the back of the boat, we think some seeped in through the stern bumper bolt holes (which have since been resealed).  Not a drop of seawater leaked into the cabin from any of the hatches or ports (all of which Don had greased before leaving Chagos), so no problem there.  All in all, minor stuff.

We did have trouble with the generator cooling water pump losing its prime.  We've come to the conclusion that the problem is boat speed related (and potentially poor pump design).  When going fast, it's possible the water trying to come in through the intake is sucked away, allowing some air to sneak into the pump, and causing it to lose its prime (and ruining the impeller if the pump runs dry for too long).  When we slowed the boat down (6.5ish knots vs. 8.5 or 9) while running the generator, we didn't seem to have a problem, even when the rolling motion was extreme.  Lesson learned.  We'll be more careful when running the generator during our next passage.

Three boats left Chagos at the same time we did.  One sailed to Rodrigues (Rodrigues is part of the country of Mauritius, and lies about 350 miles east of the island of Mauritius), but lost their engine starter motor when they were pooped by a big wave.  They are fine, and enjoying Rodrigues while they wait for their new starter motor to arrive.  Another boat arrived in Maurtius about 40 hours after we did, and like us suffered no real damage.  The fourth boat finally arrived in Mauritius, a full 13 days after leaving Chagos.  We haven't spoken to the Danish crew of that boat (they are in Port Louis and we are currently anchored in a bay 15 miles to the north), but hope their extremely long passage was ok.  As of today (5/14/2012), the rest of the Chagos fleet is either on their way to Mauritius or Rodrigues, or soon will be.  We hope to see some of them before we leave Mauritius.  At the moment, it's a bit lonely here.  We are surrounded by local sailboats (haven't seen so many local sailboats since Australia!), and no cruisers like us, so we don't have the usual boater community around to keep us company.


Planned route vs. actual track.
The blue dotted line is our planned route, and the purple is our actual track.  Initially, we headed in a more southerly direction than our planned route in order to try and outrun the ITCZ as it traveled south behind us (and eventually caught us).  The gap in the purple dotted line indicates the time the computer spent in the oven waiting for thunderstorms to clear the area.  Waypoints 21 and 22 indicate the approximate points after which our course changed to the west based on Bruce's recommendations.

Passage Statistics:

Total nautical miles traveled - 1,343

Total time - 7 days, 12 hours, 45 minutes

Total time sailing - 6 days, 15 hours, 45 minutes (88%)

Total time motoring and motorsailing - 21 hours (12%)  We motored only the first day when we were clearing the Chagos archipelago to the east, and had to motor into a 10-15 knot SE breeze.  Thereafter, we only used the motor briefly when caught in the ITCZ where the wind was often sucked away by passing squalls.

Average speed - 7.4 knots (8.5 mph)  After we cleared the ITCZ and were firmly in southeast trade wind territory, our average speed was higher at 8.1 knots (9.3 mph).

Degrees of latitude traveled - 15 to the south (away from the equator)

Degrees of longitude traveled - 15 to the west   We are now a mere 8 hours ahead of EST.

Lowest wind - 6 knots (7 mph)  We had light wind 12 hours out of Chagos on the first day.

Highest wind - 33 knots (38 mph)  This was on day 6.  We consistently had sustained winds 20-30 knots and higher gusts throughout the trip.  One squall we encountered in the ITCZ packed more than 40 knots - thankfully it was short-lived. 

Highest cabin temperature - 90F (6 hours after leaving Chagos)

Lowest cabin temperature - 79.7F (7 in the morning on day 6)  This is the first time Harmonie's cabin temperature has dipped below 80 since we left Australia two years ago.  Have I mentioned how positively glorious it is not to be sweating?  The weather is perfect here in Mauritius - 85 during the day, 77 at night.  It feels chilly to us and we have to cover up at night….but no one is complaining.  After sweating in our sleep for months, we are basking in the glory of lower humidity, cool temperatures and the ability to stand in the sun without melting.

Number of near calamities -  1   We nearly lost our swim ladder when the boat got caught by a wave and rolled a bit too far.

Number of exceptional challenges - 3   Dealing with the finicky water pump on the generator, dealing with the ugly sea conditions for nearly five straight days, and going without morning coffee for 5 out of 7 days.

Award for valor - Bestowed upon Don twice for exceptional mechanical maintenance performed while crouching in a violently rolling dark hole.  

Number of dinners consisting of microwaved frozen casseroles - 7

Number of trips to the lee rail - Don - 0, Anne - 1

Number of seasickness pills consumed - Don - 0, Anne - 3 (next time the first pill will be consumed the night before our passage starts)

Number of flying fish on deck - countless.  We were still finding them wedged into crevasses on the deck four days after our arrival in Mauritius.

Number of wildlife sightings -  None, aside from the lovely seabird escort we had as we skirted the Chagos archipelago (and the dead flying fish on deck).


Port Louis, Mauritius.
To the right is the very small marina (more a place to tie up than a true marina) where we spent four nights before moving 15 miles north to anchor in Grand Baie (Bay).  There are 1.2 million people living on this relatively small island, making Mauritius one of the most densely populated countries in the world.  Port Louis is the largest city, and also the capital.  All this civilization was quite a shock to us after spending a month in the company of only 14 other sailboats populated by 30 boaters, and surrounded by nothing else but palm trees and hermit crabs.  You can bet we went out to dinner quite a few times while tied up at the waterfront in Port Louis.

And - just in case you were wondering…
We still have two Sri Lankan cabbages on board - both very alive and well.  Not bad for 7 1/2 weeks, huh?  After all that vegetable husbandry, the only species that died prematurely was the avocado.  Sri Lankan avocados apparently have an aversion to refrigeration.

Next up: more on Mauritius.
Anne