As I write this, I have 370 miles to Victoria, around 70 hours left. Weather wise, they are the harshest of the trip so far. Up above, the winds are howling 30 knots with gusts to 35. Waves are washing over the deck regularly.
I did manage to get some sleep last night but was up on deck twice to drop sails and adjust courses. It is hard to get from my bunk and hot water bottle up, dressed in my wet clothes and wet gear, put on the harness and
open the hatch. Once out there, the power of the storm is apparent, but beauty is there as well. Carpe Ventus is tucked into the wind and kicking along nicely. Reducing sail brings her more in balance as well. This morning,
I am down to about 25% of the jib and that's it. Still clocking 6.5 knots, and the wind vane is steering very nicely. Right now, I am back below again, things are stable and I am heading in the right direction. Nothing to do but
read (and write). The boat is shifting around like a mule so fine dining is off the menu.

Throughout most of the trip, I have had 2 types of birds follow me. I think one is a petrel (or maybe an albatross) and the other is smaller, kind of like a large wren. I don't know, not my forte. But they are beautiful to watch, they
dip and slide between the waves a great speeds and dexterity. I wonder how they sleep, in the water or can they stay flying all night? They seem to like the boat. I talk to them and get a tilt of the head, or so it seems. Then,
yesterday, what looked to me like a seagull came by. Not sure what he was doing 400 miles from land, but he swung around a couple of times and landed on my bimini. Perhaps it was lost and exhausted. Sadly, it was too
rough to stay there and he left shorty after. No further sitings.

Over the course of the day, the winds are to die off a bit, but should be favourable for at least 24 hours. Then they are forecast to go light, possible 5 knots. IF that happens, I will abandon all scruples and start the engine. I
plan on rounding Cape Flaherty at dawn on Thursday, then finish off the 60 miles to Victoria during the day. Sailing plans are not worth much though.

Three weeks at sea alone is a long time. I don't think I will undertake this again! The dreams and nightmares of my planning are mostly past. I have great memories of the trip, and some which might haunt me forever. An
emotional gambit of sheer joy, boredom, fear, longing and peace. I think I said this before, but with the Covid 19 crisis looming over the landlubber's heads, I have missed most of the restrictions, or at least, the quarantine
was self-imposed. Selfishly, now was the best time for me to be doing this trip. Although waiting until July to leave Hawaii might have meant better weather, I am ready to be home.

Before leaving Hawaii, I registered my quarantine plan with BC Health and hope they accept my weeks at sea as a sign of health.

SAILING THINGS

For those interested in nautical niceties, I am still learning about the boat, and making errors (how else does one learn?)

A couple of days back, in fairly high winds (25 kn) the hydraulic steering started to kick out of auto, and eventually shut down altogether. Fortunately, the wind vane was able to take over. Some 24 hours later, the hydraulic
steering was okay again. I think that the winds just overwhelmed it. The boat was not in good balance. Before I started the wind vane, I knew I had to balance the boat (so that the rudder was pretty much centered) by
decreasing the main. With the boat hove-to I got the never-before-used-nor-tested 3rd reef in the main. After a couple of adjustments, it worked. I am very happy I installed that but should have put the reef in as soon as the
hydraulic steering started to act up.

The furler is holding up, but the nylok nut holding the bolt must be worn as I need to tighten it twice a day. That is probably why it came out in the first place. I should have noticed the loose bolt ages ago before that disaster.

Last night, during the storm, I noticed that the wind vane was slowly changing course up wind. It regularly veers back and forth but this was different. I needed to up every ½ hour and adjust the course. Sure enough, the self
steering gear was self-correcting, and not in a good way. To adjust the course, one rotates the turret a bit to match the wind angle desired. It is supposed to have a cord wrapped around it leading to the cockpit, so one can
adjust it without having to hang over the stern. This never worked so I took it off. Apparently, it has a 2nd function. The friction of the cord keeps the turret from moving on its own. I had to laugh (what else does one do) as at
3:00 am I am standing on the swim fin (rigorously tethered to the boat) threading a cord around the turret in torrential downpour and 30 kn gusts. Oddly, light from above filtered through the storm laden clouds to help in my
endeavour. The moon is full or close to it., and that provided the luminescence. The cord worked and the turret is now steady as a rock.

The ham radio is a real comfort out here. Besides getting emails and weather, I chat twice a day on two different nets. Also, get some news from New Zealand radio and the BBC once a day. Each offering is no more than 5
minutes at a time, but it helps to stay human. In the middle of one report, the radio just decided to shut off. For 24 hours it was intermittent. I suspect one of the connections is corroded and the voltage to the unit has gone too
low. Now that I have dried out some, it seems to be working again. I am complicit on this failure. On my list of maintenance checks, there is a sponge that I am supposed to check occasionally. Its purpose is to stop a small
leak from getting to the electronics. I stopped checking that in Mexico, given they have those dry conditions that we seek in the winter. I now check it daily, along with the furler bolt, the hydraulic steering bolt, the boom yoke,
the boom vang yoke, the bilge pump, and everything else that did go wrong or could go wrong. Did I miss something? I hope not, but stay tuned!