Keeping A Smile On The Dial
02 September 2012 | 15 34'S:178 21'W, Western Samoa to Fiji
Jenny G
After time spent enjoying at each island�'s culture and surrounds it is not long before we are out at sea sailing towards the next adventure and back doing the night-shifts. I think it is weird how your body adjust almost immediately and you have the ability to wake 5 minutes before it is your shift at the helm. So by 9pm the Captain takes the reins we get to sleep. By 11.55pm I wake ready to tag team he who hums, I get the handover and send him to bed and take my up post at the helm for the next 3 hours alone. Once there, the stars, the vast ocean, the instrument panel and whatever the elements wish to present you with is the action you then take. The main objective is to keep an eye out for any other �"traffic�" and in the instance of our last night of sailing into Fiji, it was a diligent watch out for reefs and atolls that would translate as white caps and or breaking waves. The 4 day passage from Samoa to Fiji was a good one with only one day/ night of big/unsettled seas.... .... The instrument panel is what we all watch while working our shifts... so I thought I would give you a snapshot. THE GPS TRACKER �- that has our tracking of the passage to-date. The tracking marked as the dotted line with the islands ahead blaring out of the brightly lit screen. This instruments you can zoom in or out to make as magnified as you need pending on how much detail or landmass you need to see. THE COMPASS �- The indication of Condesa�'s coordinates, now reading mostly �"West 235deg�". THE WIND INDICATOR �- Wind is mostly on the beam but it likes to sneak around to the stern when you�'re not looking just to keep you on your toes, and having you adjust the coordinates to keep the wind in the sails. THE WIND SPEED �- This indicator peaked at 30kts on this night and that is when the energy builds in the boat like a nervous tension as she gains speed. The sails need to be reefed long before we reach the 30knts. THE DEPTH �- In most cases it is so deep that this gauge will flash the last recognised depth, BUT should we be near reefs or atolls then this is the one dial to eyeball. THE S.O.G. �- Speed Over Ground, when the wind was up, the reading was 9.5kts (and that�'s moving) On occassions even if we pull in one of the sails she keeps the speed and momentum not missing a beat. THE RADAR �- Another brightly lit screen, but only in use when the storm clouds or squalls are looming. And when they are, then they are black patches on the radar that edge closer or move away. Once he who hums leaves the post, it is time to select a position and depending on the movement of the boat as to the spot I select. Sometimes it is nice to sit up out of the housing outside the doghouse and just watch a calm night sail by. However this night is particularly �'woolly�', so I take up a cushioned side seat and wedge in as the boat is rocking and rolling around with a following sea and wind gusts just to mix it up a bit more. So she will rock from port to starboard and then the stern will twist down off of a wave as she surges off a wave and back on line. A bit of a ride really and is all good fun if things are on track and even more fun when you can see in daylight hours. The sky is so clear the Milky Way snakes across a good part of the night sky and the constellations tonight are standing out clearer than ever before. The Scorpion (claws and all) pops into my line of sight dropping in the canopy frame like a puppet on a string. But the reality that we are now in southern waters is the striking and familiar Southern Cross, front and centre like he is in charge and leading the way back home. There is something about the stars that helps pass the 3 hours on watch but the occasional loud slap of a wave right on the beam of the hull with snap you back to the job at hand, bit like a clout on the ear for daydreaming. Once your heart returns to normal rhythm you figure you may as well turn on the infrared headlight again and check that all things that were tied on the deck are still in-place, that the navigation lights are still on, and sails are all as should be. Then a 360 scan for any traffic and back to where you were before the startling wake up call. One night I did have to bum scrape across the decks to rescue the heavy duty buckets that were breaking free. I did weigh up the risk and my decision to go forward on the lifelines was more because of the noise and damage they were inflicting as they were scraping and banging on the decks with every motion. However as I inch wormed out there I was thinking these are the kind of dumb stories you read about and wonder why one would risk their life to save a bucket for god�'s sake. However once they were tied back in position all was in order, I do a time check and it was already 2.55am. Next shift due, and when Pedro gets up here he will want a handover report especially if he�'s sensed there has been change in our set-up since his time off. As you sleep you do note changes in the motion, you listen.... justify the noise or change, hear as it all settles back into normal rhythm and then go back to sleep without even lifting an ear off the pillow, (well sometimes I bolt upright) but mostly you absorb the difference and sleep on. So off to bed for me, another shift completed without drama and yet another successful session with King Neptune in his playing field is accounted for. I carefully sneak down the stairs positioned right over he who is snoring�'s bunk and wonder how long it took him to settle in Condesa�'s commotion tonight. I try not to break his night-time hum knowing he will be up again in 3 hours to do the first shift of another beautiful day in the Pacific while we sleep on trustingly, just like they do when I am at the helm and that is a really nice thought to sleep with.