Galapagos to Marquesas 2015

We've arrived in Nuku Hiva, Marquesas and are safely at anchor. Steaks are being prepared, Prosecco has been consumed (wine to come with dinner) and we have a lovely, calm anchorage with a nice breeze to help us sleep tonight. We have traveled 3125 nm in 13 1/2 days averaging 9.6 kts throughout the passage. Since we left Palma de Mallorca we have traveled 10,400 nm. It's wonderful to be at anchor again but a little sad to not be at sea also. A good night's sleep ahead for us all and then the paperwork of clearing into another port... another country; French Polynesia. Thanks for following along on our journey. Tonight we sleep like zombies!

Our last full day at sea for this passage, tomorrow evening we will reach the Marquesas. We're currently sailing under an immense clear night sky with a waxing moon to light our path. On nights like this we see numerous satellites passing overhead, meteors streaking across the sky, but we haven't seen an aircraft in weeks. Carmen made risotto con asperegi for dinner; fantatsico. Earlier today we passed another sailing yacht, this one ten meters long and traveling at five knots, they have another three days sailing before they'll see the islands, whereas we should arrive tomorrow in time for drinks.

Pitiou calls FG "the passage maker", and it's true, she eats the miles with an insatiable, ravenous hunger. Of the six crew on board, Giamma, Andrea and I have been sailing together since our departure from Palma de Majorca last December, eleven thousand miles and five months ago. It's funny to think that so far, the entirety of 2015 has been spent sea. Yesterday evening we had visitors, a group of Dolphins joined us for a time, jumping and playing, their bodies enveloped in green, glowing phytoplankton. Today Pitiou spotted a large shark, four meters long, he said it looked like a tiger shark. It was near the surface and easily visible in the crystal clear water.

The wind died off around four this morning, and we've been under motor since, trundling along, sloshing back and forth; the worst sort of condition for a sailing yacht. Everybody's excited though, we spotted the first of the islands an hour ago. The bottles are chilling, Carmen has the bread machine going, yes, ham and cheese bread :--) we have less than fifty miles left in what has been a long, long leg, but smiles all around, we are feeling good!!!

Grey ragged waves under a grey ragged sky, it's early morning, Andrea is on helm, winds are strong; it's going to be a big sea day. His face is serenely calm, his stance is relaxed, his hands light and easy, he's listening to his iPod as we race along, Andrea likes R&B classics; the gentle rhythms and soft vocals feeding through his headphones as the boat surfs big ocean swell leaving a rooster tale in its wake. Down below Pitiou emerges from his cabin, the aroma of a fresh pot of coffee has drawn him out. The fatigue on his face says everything about how difficult the night watch sailing conditions were, the damp storm gear hanging up to dry in the utility room adds more to the story.

We are three hundred and thirty miles out from our destination of Navu Huku. It's clicking down fast, we can all feel it, we're all starting to think about the possibility of arriving before sunset tomorrow...maybe? Everybody is tired, it's difficult to be cheerful even though we try, it's important to keep a positive attitude out here, especially when what you'd really rather do is bitch and moan; once that starts there's no stopping so we keep our complaints to ourselves. It's been a great passage so far; long, sometimes tough, but superb sailing throughout. We've been on a Port side gybe for well over two thousand miles, holding a steady course as the wind angle has been pretty ideal. Today's lunch will be a pasta pomodoro and handmade polpetti. Last night we had Asian stir-fry over rice with fresh seared tuna steaks courtesy of the lovely fish Andrea caught the other day. We have less than two days to go! We are feeling good!

It's day eleven, and we are deep, really deep into this passage with only seven hundred and forty nautical miles to go. Odd yet familiar sorts of stuff start to pop up about this time, I woke up at five this morning and went out on deck to escape the steam box below to find Andrea at the helm in his pajamas and fluffy socks. The last few days of a long passage are always the toughest as the grind of the watch schedule, multiple time changes, and sleep deprivation start to catch up with everyone. We all get a bit grumpy so we tend to give each other more space, more alone time when possible. Then of course there's the beard factor, always a sure indication that we've been at sea for quiet some time. Pitiou was clean shaven when he arrived from France, but now he's sporting a full healthy growth of sailor grass on his young face. Giamma, whom I have never seen without his signature barba di nero , has gone "full Moitessier" the beard's now so full it's begun to curl at the ends.

Food is very important, it's huge for morale, and trying to come up with something fresh and different each day gets to be a serious challenge as the miles drone on, so this morning I was in the galley making pan fried Vietnamese Spring rolls that will be served for lunch along with grilled Thai beef skewers and peanut sauce. Later this evening Carmen will be making Risotto con gamberi. The bread machine is super popular as few things bring a smile to crew working on deck faster than the aroma of fresh bread drifting up from the galley. Carmen's ham and cheese bread being a particular favorite for aperitivo. The fresh fruits and vegetables are dwindling fast, so more canned stuff starts turning up about this time, it's a shame as now our fresh baked focaccia has to have tinned tomatoes...yes we do suffer...he he..

The past couple of days we've had big winds, too much for the gennaker, but still a lot of speed, too fast to fish though so Andrea is a bit sad. Last night was clear and dry, we sailed under a blanket of stars that stretched from one horizon to the other. I was having coffee on deck this morning when a flying fish suddenly landed right in front of me, he flopped about with his wings stretched out like two slippery wet fans, I picked him up and tossed him back overboard. Only three day's sailing left to go- we are feeling good! Aspetta un attimo! Update! Fish on!! Wow nice, Samurai fisherman just landed a ten kilo Bonito.

I walked into my cabin yesterday to find the petrified, lifeless body of a flying fish laying on the floor. Most mornings the guys find the bodies of flying fish laying about the deck having landed there during the night. A couple of nights ago Giamma and Carmen had one come shooting through their hatch, an amazing event given the bullet like accuracy required to fly perfectly from the ocean, across the deck, past the dodger, through the hatch's narrow opening, and then land perfectly inside a utility pocket attached to the wall, I kid you not it was amazing. Giamma was awakened by the flopping, thrashing struggles of the poor fish trapped inside, he pulled the pocket off its Velcro strip, carried it outside and dumped the lucky flyer back into the sea.

Squalls off and on during the night made holding the helm in the pitch black doubly difficult. We've had no moon for the entire passage, only the bright stars on clear nights to light the horizon. A person may wonder why we choose to helm always by hand, utilizing a watch system where two sailors share the helm during four hour shifts, switching back and forth between them every thirty minutes. So why do this when we could simply switch on the autopilot? The reason is the high performance nature of Feeln' Good, she's a cruiser/racer, her Farr design carbon fiber hull can slip through the waves at remarkably high speeds, our top recorded speed so far is twenty-five, we routinely surf ocean swell at twenty knots, faster than an autopilot can compensate for, the margin for error is slim under these conditions, especially when the weather turns nasty, I'll take skilled crew over the autopilot any day. Given the fact that we have a full galley below, complete with an Italian chef and fully stocked freezer, life is pretty terrific on board. Real sailors live for this; sailing big seas incredibly fast, and having a blast doing it.

The average speed during the 1973 Whitbread Ocean Race (now known as the Volvo) was seven knots, our average speed is nearly double what those early blue water yachts were able to achieve. Of course the modern ocean race boats today are much faster than we are, but they have no comfort on board at all; none. Last night we were treated to a captain Giamma specialty: pasta con vongole made with Mediterranean clams we'd frozen back in Palma. Today's lunch will be a fresh salad made with chickpeas. We're now ten days in, and on the back side of the passage; the downhill run to Nuku Havi, Marquesas. We have one hundred four sailing hours left in our passage, it's going by fast, we are feeling good!

Day eight begins with bright lovely dawn...yes, it's a brand new day out here on the open sea, Oscar Peterson's Rob Roy is playing through the headphones, the sun is shinning, Giamma is on the helm, and it's hot, damn hot. Andrea was just out at the mast sending the mainsail back up to full power, we have fifteen knots of wind and a two knot current pushing us along, nobody could ask for better speed, and the sea state? Well, let's just say it's sweet baby...as easy going as Oscar's tinkling keys.

So last night, mmmm...last night's roast chicken and tiny baby potato dinner was a big hit, and the Champagne aperitif with Carmen's fresh baked ham and cheese bread was so good we almost felt guilty we can live so well out here in the wilderness...almost. So now that we've officially passed the halfway point, the countdown begins, and if all goes reasonably well, we should be reaching the island of Nuku Hiva in about six days. Today Carmen has a very special Sunday dinner planned, lobster pasta Napoletana, and then later at sunset we shall make another toast...oh wait, perhaps two, we do have reputation to uphold after all, we're Feelin' Good, the fun boat.

Last night another sailing yacht appeared on the AIS, this one fourteen meters long. She was about five miles to starboard, and seemed to be on a similar course when we passed her at around 21:00hrs last night, all attempts to establish radio contact went unanswered, they never knew we were there. Most likely whomever was on board was down below sleeping. It's common for boats to leave their radio off to save battery power. Élan, the ketch we passed a few days ago also had her radio off. We had been previously trying to call, but was only when they spotted our giant yellow gennaker that they powered up and called over to us. Amongst our group, only Pitiou and Andrea have made this passage before, the rest of us are seeing it for the first time. Andrea says that what we've been experiencing is pretty much exactly what he saw when he made the trip. As for Pitiou, a man who has sailed pretty much every ocean on the globe, he says this passage is one of his favorites. Ah, Giamma just popped in to say the guys are getting ready to launch the "limone giganti", I hear the wenches going, ciao! We are feeling good!

Day seven of our passage across the South Pacific, I woke up early and according to what has now become the daily routine, went to the galley to start the day's cooking for the crew; first a large Spanish Tortilla, a sort of potato pie made with eggs, onions and smoked paprika, then a huge cold salad to go with, today it will be a Spanish Ensaldadilla, what the Italians call "insalata Russo", or Russian Salad. No sooner was the tortilla completed than crew coming off watch began ravenously slicing into it. Nothing lasts long, the crew's appetite is insatiable. Provisions go quickly, but we're making good speed in moderate seas, sailing under a heavy grey sky with off and on rain showers. For most of the day yesterday and all through last night we sailed in squall conditions cutting our way through bumpy erratic waves, heavy rain, and winds just above thirty knots; fast sailing at a peak speed of eighteen knots in the starless darkness.

It takes a high level sailor to handle a yacht like this under these conditions. Once she crests a wave, all forty-two tons of her begins to surf, and standing at the helm, you suddenly feel the rush of acceleration under your feet, staring down a twenty-five meter carbon fiber gun-barrel, it's almost like the sea suddenly becomes made of ice and you're skating down hill, building speed fast, then you arrive at the bottom of the wave where the bow can spear right into it if you're not ready. Every wave is unique, each must be read in advance, the helmsman is always looking ahead, sizing up the next three waves and correctly positioning the boat as each wave arrives.

During the day, when you can see everything in front of you it's easy to become a bit over confident, to think perhaps those Volvo Ocean racers are only slightly better, but it's during the night, riding those same fast waves in near total darkness, often in rough conditions, that the true high performance sailor rises to the challenge, safely handling each wave through feel, flying on the instruments and relying on instincts sharpened during tens of thousands of open ocean miles. Knowing your boat is the crucial element, she must be your paramour, becoming as intimate with her every breath as you would a lover.

The consensus on board is that the rain and overcast are preferable to the sizzling frypan that is the cockpit under full southern hemisphere sun; as beautiful as this ocean is, it's a harsh place. We are now one thousand five hundred nautical miles from the nearest spot of land. Sometime during the night we will cross the halfway mark of our journey, so of course there are special meals planned, and a bottle of Champagne waits in the fridge. I say "meals" as it was decided that because the midway point will pass during the wee hours of the night, we should in fact have two parties so tonight's dinner will be French style roast chicken with baby potatoes, while tomorrow we are planning a lobster pasta with Prosecco, not bad for the middle of nowhere, we are feeling good!

Just a short update today as we have had rain since dawn. All night we had terrific sailing conditions with clear skies, tons of stars and calm seas. Perfect! However, then the rain came and it's been gloomy and raining all day. Sailing is still nice but wet! Longer post tomorrow I promise!

Day five began with a clear dawn that broke across a pure, clean sky...a fresh start. We are surrounded on all sides, as far as the eye can see, and in all directions by an incredibly blue, pleasantly peaceful sea. Last night the sky was so densely bright with stars that even without a moon the horizon was easily visible. We are at a point now that the closest people to us are typically the astronauts passing above inside the International Space Station, however, interestingly enough, we have spotted a sail off our bow in the distance. The craft appears to be about five miles ahead of us, and we are overtaking so later we should be able to communicate by VHF.

Update, ok we are a fast boat, we passed by sailing yacht "Élan" just a few minutes ago, Pitiou was able to raise them on the radio and chat for a bit, they are a family of five including two children aboard a forty-two foot ketch, making the same run for the Marquesas, we wish them good wind and safe passage.

The character of the waves here is much more placid than what we've encountered on our Atlantic passages, I can see now why this stretch of the South Pacific is often referred to as "the cocoanut milk run". As far as I know, I'm the only member of my family to take a shine to sailing craft enough to want to cross oceans aboard one. Both my mother and father's families were traditionally citrus farmers and cattle ranchers, and aside from a stent spent in the Pacific theater during WWII, none had ever taken to the sea willingly. It's a shame as this is an interesting place to be, one finds things out here in the emptiness, things you can't find any place else in the world.

The crew awoke early to the sound of Andrea's fishing reel singing, and now we have a lovely Mahi Mahi resting in our fridge and waiting for dinner time. It had been four days without a fish, a remarkable dry spell for our master Samurai Fisherman. You could see the disappointment on Andrea's face at the end of each day when he pulled in his lines, another day without a single bite, clearly, he had lost his Mojo. I was pondering his predicament when it suddenly occurred to me that when we departed the Galápagos and began our passage we had neglected to make a proper toast to set our journey off on the right foot. We had of course followed the very old Neapolitan seafaring tradition of tossing coins over our shoulder to assure safe passage but alas, there had been no toast...how could this be? Seizing an opportunity to set things right again I went below to the ship's cache and selected a fine bottle, an eighteen year old rum from Guatemala.

Andrea was on watch with Giamma on the helm when I appeared on deck, bottle in hand, and announced we were making a proper toast to the sea. I opened the bottle, and like so many sailors of centuries past, poured some off into the churning waters as an offering to Neptune. Then we passed out a round of small cups and poured some for ourselves, sipping it slowly as the sun set, enjoying a kind camaraderie only blue water sailors truly understand, and as usual, we are feeling good.

Day four of our passage to the edge of French Polynesia and finally the wind has arrived. Early this morning Giamma stood on deck assessing the conditions, he was pleased with what he felt on his face and what the instruments were telling him; eighteen knots of steady wind, it was time to assemble the crew and raise the sails. He steered the bow up into the swell, and with Carmen and Andrea at the mast, Art and Pitiou on wenches, they hoisted the mainsail. Once the main was up, Giamma then brought the bow back around, the main instantly filled, the boom slung gently into place, and everything went tight. The sheets and wenches at first groaning under the pressure, then going quiet again as the rig found its balance.

Once the Genoa was in place our speed through the water quickly accelerated to twelve knots. Giamma reached down to the control panel under the helm and switched off the engine, no one spoke, all was silent except the sound of the sea rushing past our hull. Within minutes a pod of dolphins arrived as if, without an engine incessantly droning along, we suddenly became interesting. Leaping about all around us like excited puppies they then formed a line just off our bow and for a few moments we became a grand sea chariot pulled by a spirited team, eight abreast, all in shinning silver grey.

The mood on board is different now, as if today, finally, the passage has truly begun. No more engine sounds, no more wallowing and sloshing along, and no more empty helms thumping back and forth under autopilot. She's now on a solid, purposeful course, slicing through the waves, sailing fast up wind at a nice heel angle with a smiling crew member at the helm, loving this moment, and living the life he signed up for.

A special greeting today to "the seven", Mrs Wald's students at 40 Mile School, Lodge Grass, Montana, thanks so much for following along with us as we make our way across the largest Ocean in the world aboard a sailing yacht named for a fine horse. It's a pleasure to have you all along for the ride. The weather today is hot, with more heat coming and lots of sun. Lunch today will be a cold salad of chickpeas, quinoa, and broccoli. Last night for dinner Pitiou made slow cooked ribs with gravy over rice. So far we haven't caught any fish, but we have a lot of ocean ahead of us, we are feeling good!

A nice calm night of motoring with some support from the wind but only enough to put out the genoa to keep us from rolling a bit in the swell. We did see winds to 18 kts overnight but only for a short while and not worth waking the crew up to hoist the main sail. As it turns out it only lasted a few hours then died back down. We also still have a current running against us so our overall ground speed is less than we usually get but the further south we go the better chances of getting some wind and having the current turn in our favor. We are hopeful to get sailing again in the next day or so. I did have the fishing line out early this morning as my watch started at 06:00.

By 08:00 Andrea took over the watch and called to me a little while later saying I had caught something. When I rushed to the back of the boat I saw the fishing line being pulled up into the air! A young frigate bird had taken my lure from the water and was flying around the boat with it. Lucky he didn't get it wrapped around the mast but it was caught under the anchor on the bow so I climbed out there to free it up and suddenly the lure came out of his mouth and fell back into the sea. So, no fish and no frigate bird for dinner!

C’est avec grand plaisir que j’ai retrouvé Feelin’ Good et tout son équipage aux iles Galapagos… après un long périple me menant des Alpes françaises jusqu’a la chaleur équatorial des Islas Encantadas,soit seize heures d’avion,suive d’une traversée de l’ile de Santa Cruz en pick-up et enfin un cabotage sur une barque de pèche pour rejoindre ma destination final,houf!

Apres des retrouvailles chaleureuses et arrosées comme le veut la coutume sur le bateau,le privilège de faire un bain matinal dans l’ocean pacifique! quel bonheur…s’ensuive les préparatifs pour le départ de la grande traversée qui nous conduira aux porte du paradis…

Nous voila donc de nouveau au large après avoir sillonné entre les iles en profitant de la faune marine exubérante,des dauphins par dizaines ,des tortues par centaines,des oiseaux marins par milliers….et une baleine!

Maintenant,cap au sud-ouest à la pèche au vent,sur un ocean qui se veux pour l’instant un peu trop pacifique, justement! nous espérons trouver bientôt les alizés de sud-est et aussi les courants équatoriaux favorables afin de pouvoir enfin ouvrir nos ailes et voler vers ce jardin d’eden que sont les iles Marquises…a presto.Pitiou.

Day two of our passage to Marquesas and we are still under motor with hardly a breath of wind to be seen or felt. We are properly at sea though, heading out across the far reaches of the South Pacific. It feels odd even to write these words, wow, the Pacific, here we go. The crew on watch have taken to wearing swim trunks and showering themselves off periodically along with wetting down the deck as with this intense sun it's like standing on a hot frypan. Lunch today will be a cold pasta salad with fresh pesto, and dinner tonight will be green Thai curry with chicken.

Art and Giamma have been out regularly taking sightings with the sextant. They are making a project of calculating our course the traditional way, using the old school paper tables and charts. Andrea has his fishing lines out, but so far the rod and reels stand quiet. These are the days that pass slowly, you wake up at dawn, or perhaps later if you had a late night watch. Then maybe go to the galley for a coffee or some juice, poke around amongst the biscuits and bread for something to eat until it's your turn again to take a watch on deck. Lunch is a highlight, all of us look forward to real food, then in the afternoon most everyone is either reading, watching a movie on their computer, or sleeping.

Yes, we are in the routine already and it's only the second day, sure sign of a well seasoned crew. Last night we had a bit of a mystery for a couple of hours as an AIS signal suddenly appeared on the plotter screen showing a position just behind our stern. Turns out a life jacket we had in storage in a forward cabin decided on its own to deploy and inflate, its emergency locator beacon going off and showing up as an object on the plotter, nice to know the system works, however it's not as precise as we thought, the jacket and the signal being about thirty meters apart. The big event this morning was when Carmen spotted a large whale, an adult humpback breaching, a spectacular sight. We have several small squalls all around us, not much rain has hit us so far but when the clouds do block the sun we are all smiling! Perhaps some wind soon? We shall see, we are feeling good!

When I came on watch at 00:00 I noticed a beeping noise and dim flashing light in the VIP cabin. I went to investigate and I saw that Tracy's life-jacket had inflated and set off the AIS SART beacon. I turned it off and went to the helm where I found out they had been looking for this AIS event for hours seeing a 'phantom' ship trailing behind us on the chart-plotter with no ship actually there. I told them about the SART life-jacket going off and that explained it. Today, we replaced the inflation cartridge and reset the SART alarm system. That wasn't all though. About an hour into my watch all of a sudden bright lights went off within a mile of us showing a huge fishing boat towing 20 smaller boats. They had been running without any lights or AIS ( I assume perhaps they were illegal to be in Galapagos waters or hiding from the competing fishing boats). Regardless, it startled me to have them show up so close and I took evasive action to avoid a collision. Calm, night with beautiful stars one minute, then a close encounter with a fishing fleet the next. All part of our fun at sea! Today, building storms around us but so far no rain. We're all hoping for some cooling showers this afternoon

Finalmente andiamo, we are off! Just motoring for now but if the forecast proves fruitful we will have good wind in a couple of days. There is a festive spirit on board, everyone is excited to get going again. Our dear Pitiou is back with us which means of course there is serious sailing ahead. Last night we had a special dinner of Neapolitan style pasta, an old recipe from the wonderful book La Cucina Napoletana, of course a couple of bottles of good red wine went with our meal, the last we will be having for the next couple of weeks. The watch schedule has been posted, I will be manning the galley for the passage, we are six on board, but it's very hot, we are riding the equator, so everyone is asking for light salads that have been thoroughly refrigerated. That said we are an Italian crew, if not all by birth than in spirit, and today is Sunday, so tonight's dinner will be a lasagna...ha ha, of course served cold for breakfast is also very good!

Our bow cuts gently through a glassy flat sea scattered with large stones, shiny smooth, and floating on the surface, then the head of the animal becomes visible as we draw near; another giant Pacific Sea Turtle. They are everywhere, there must be several thousand living happily around these islands. Some are completely undisturbed, just relaxing on the surface as we pass by while others scramble to escape with a kick and a splash, I can see them diving deep deep into the clear dark water below. Then there is another big swirl ahead, but this one is a magnificent Manta Ray, its long wings spread out fully to collect the heat from the sun, some reaching four meters across. Occasionally we see one jumping, they have the ability to leap out of the water like a dolphin, an incredible sight. After spending some weeks here, I can say that everything that is magical about the Galápagos is not to be found on the islands themselves but in the sea that surrounds them. More to come, next stop Marquesas, only three thousand more miles to go, we are feeling good!

Ready to go! Our plan is to head for about 05ºS by 096ºW where we hope to be able to accomplish a few things. First we will be south of the ITCZ (Intertropical Convergence Zone), the place where the heavy thunder and lightening storms are located. Second a nice current begins there that will push us along at about 1-2 kts toward the west and third, the trade winds begin to build down there as well so we hope to be able to get the sails up and perhaps not have to motor so much. Anyway, watch our progress!

Typical of what we've experienced here in Galápagos is the inefficient handling of simple things like a clearance declaration and exit stamp for our passports. It's been all day waiting and now, at 17:00, we hear things are completed. So, rather than leave at dark to begin our passage we'll spend one more night and leave early tomorrow. To help you wait with us, here is a photo from Pitiou's drone footage he took today (oh yes, we have great video too!). So, a wonderful pasta for dinner, a good nights sleep and off at first light tomorrow.

The winds are not so good (in fact they are almost non-existent). We had the foresight to fill our extra, inflatable fuel tanks and now have 500 extra liters of fuel on-board to help us in this passage. We will need it as the trade winds are not forecast to build in until we have been on passage for the first week. Check back tomorrow for our departure!