Well it has been some time since I wrote about our passages and a lot has happened. Many good things and many shite things but in all we are well. We coast along on the 40th parallel now, north of San Francisco and about a 1200 miles offshore, still headed for Newport after all this time, It seems an eternity I have been on Compadre now. Once again both good and bad associated to this relationship. Like a marriage I guess. Sometimes difficult, mostly so brilliant and beautiful that it brings tears to your eyes. You learn to rely on one another whole heartedly and deal with the weather, storms and seas that are thrown your way. Those are usually nasty but the pay off of that calm anchorage and those sweet moments is worth all the effort.

Compadre fairs well, as does her crew. Although at sea this leg for longer then expected, all is well. Ben is a companionable crew member. Compadre is a solid stout sailor and all we need now is wind. This we will find as we creep over the 140th W longitude line and enter the home straits.

We are so looking forward to the embraces of our wives and children and for the feeling of accomplishment and completion that comes at the end of these journeys. It is a universal given to find such ecstasy at the end of any task. There was once a women who told me that this was my biggest fault. I never finished anything,. It is true. it may be true of many of us. But I will be glad of this finish for sure. And it will inspire many other finishing's and simultaneously it must be noted that some thing's were never meant to be finished, so those things I will enjoy until my time is finished and I am whisked off to the big white sails in the sky.

Here's to hoping for more finishes and more enjoyment of the journeys towards that finish.

Aloha.

D

It is 3am. The night is as dark as the inside of an inkwell. Scarce a light shows the faces of sea weary men at this ungodly hour, but it is just now when the duty and rigors of venturing forth to the ocean are needed. As I surface from the cavorting bowels of our higgledy piggledy existence I look to the East, to the place where is born, on this night, the monsters that lurk in the deep. The monsters that crawl up on us from all angles, un-announced, and cast themselves on us like kamakazi. Not a care in the world for their well being and only demise on their minds. The demise of our humble sailing boat. Our refuge and home these past eight weeks, neigh these past eight years. And as I do so I see the faintest smudge of a line marching towards us, in a crumbling speedy fashion. As if in formation with arms linked the gang of white water, some 25 feet wide and 6 foot high, rushes forth and with joyous abandon slams into our Starboard side, lifting us and knocking us down simultaneously.

As Compadre lurches to Port it is as if we are on all fours adrift on the sparring ring floor, aghast at our situation, gasping for breath and searching the crowd for a supportive glance, but all are filled with defeat. Can we make it back from this one? The count is already at 6 and I don't think... and just then I hear it, we all do, the voice of our coach and the encouragement of our loved ones. We must get up and resume the fight. It is only the 9th round and we have 3 more to go until the sunlight slowly creeps upon the East and we can learn of our victory or defeat. We are after all the reigning champion having conquered last nights opponent. He was formidable. Bearing down on us with 35 knots and seas that could unsettle a seasoned navy captain, setting up the day for a rolly recovery.

This night the fighting is intense with short quick bursts of fists aimed at our mid-rift, hoping to make us crumple in the last rounds, but we have prepared. We know how long 12 rounds can be. Its a long fight and one worth completing. And in this game if you don't win every night well you would surely have a short career.

The fight really starts in the night. Every night. The simplest tasks in the darkened hours seem so much more complex and demanding, especially for any one new to the environment. Part of the problem lies in the necessity for extremely rigid discipline in returning items to the exact spot that they are meant to be, every time, and I mean each and every time. The prudent mariner could find his way around his yacht with a blindfold on, in a new moon. As for prudence we have shown it in our every sail shortening and course decision especially as nights have approached. On this night at this very moment we have just 30% main and 25% Jib but together with the winds and seas we are skimming along at 8-9 knots constantly with the occasional 11.5 to boot.

It is glorious, intimidating, memorable and fear instilling all at the same time. And yet these are the moments we live for. They are the moments that form the 'icing on the cake' on the days when the sun sets behind puffy fair weather cumulus clouds and the Western sky beckons to us in glorious reds and oranges, and the oceans fair calm and enjoyable as we coast along at 8 knots, enjoying a Gin and Tonic. Without the ominous memories we would be spoilt brats and although we try to avoid the darkest nights as much as possible, we can choose to love them or learn from them.

And with that in mind the days end today was as different and enjoyable as ever. And we continue coasting North and West towards Hilo. Now less then 750 miles to go and a fair trade wind to keep us trotting along hopefully all the way to the Big Island and beyond.

Alls well that ends well.

See you in HIlo.

As the sun sets on our first day of the Hawaii passage, and we slide easily past the last Marquesan island of Ua Huka, we say goodbye to a place that holds such a wonderful slice of Polynesian history, and, still today, holds together in the continuation and celebration of traditions, culture and language. For Compadre and her crew it is a re-enactment of a strong nautical culture and its distinct migration to the north to populate successfully the islands of Hawaii and complete the northern expansion of the Polynesian triangle. I am pretty happy to be following this route and seeing the same stars that would have guided the many migrations and passages through the march of time.

In the north our celestial guides forming the constellation of Ursa Major, or the Big Dipper, sit boldly just above the horizon beckoning us forth to raise her into the skies above. Scorpio, as always winds out from the East and shoots into the skies always overseeing our sail changes and course alterations throughout the night and as she prepares to do so, Orion bids us farewell and takes the three sisters below the Western horizon for the night. Surging forth on a Northerly current our boat speed has been constantly between 8 and 9 knots since rounding the North Western edge of Hiva Oa this morning at 11am, and now as the southern cross sinks ever so slowly with our backs to her the entire milky way ensconces us warmly and wraps our shoulders in the beauty of the southern sky. The shooting stars and falling stars seemingly endless sparkle and whish, as we head due north towards the equator and the northern hemisphere.

We have had a wonderful time in Fatu Hiva and Hiva Oa as part of our final adieu to French Polynesia and the South Pacific Ocean. Fatu Hiva especially, holds a place in any sailors heart. Dramatically rugged and at once iconic and memorable this visit was no less impressive. Crystalline waters and scenery as wildly beautiful as one is willing to imagine. Spires of rock formations reaching to the heavens with vistas of distant verdant valleys and still further rock formations embellishing the landscape. Standing a mighty 4000 feet high and dropping off almost directly to sea level and beyond the village of Hanavave, and its 600 inhabitants, where we anchored and visited, were dwarfed by the amphitheater surrounds of the Northern valley. Hunting, fishing, farming and carving form the basis of the economy here and not a day goes by without a singing practice, drumming practice or choir practice. The community, united as much as possible, through the habits of its citizens year in and year out. Not much has changed in the 13 years since I first stopped here, except the quantity of yachts visiting and also the completion of the inter-village road. There are just two villages and now they have the option of driving between them. Most still prefer the speedboat option and the aluminum tinnies line the wharf front, bedecked in signs of successful fishing trips and hunting trips.

So we have said goodbye to these fruit laden isles and ahead of us now lies 2175 miles of deep blue sea until our arrival in Hilo, HI around the 20-25 June. At our current speed we could be there as early as the 16th but that is unlikely considering the forecast. Not an unwelcome forecast however, but we expect a few lighter days as we move between the equator and 10 degrees north. We also expect some comfortable East and North East winds from there up to our arrival in the USA so a solid finish is expected.

Wishing you all well.

Aloha for now.

Vaienui

Our arrival in French Polynesia on Monday this week came at the end of a very comfortable passage and a very successful one at that. With winds lightening on our final approach to the famous Bora Bora, the mountain loomed large, a smudgy shadow of greens and grey capped in greys and whites of the very welcome rain clouds. Our re introduction to civilization was swift with a very easy and enjoyable check in at the Gendarmerie (police station) followed by lunch, of burger's and fries with an ice cold Hinano, the obvious choice in Tahiti since it is brewed locally. We wondered around the usually dusty , but now drenched town, and enjoyed the many small interactions with the people we encountered. The mighty Paul Gaugian cruise ship parked a mile away had introduced a profusion of colorful international guests to the town for a couple days and this further enhanced the feel of this popular island destination.

We lumbered around, cleaning up and making use of the downpour that ensued through the day and night to both wash our decks and completely fill to overflowing our water tanks. Beautiful South Pacific rain water filled water tanks. What could be better. The morning brought a pale grey and light rains all the way to the southern tip of the atoll as we picked up anchor and motor sailed our way towards Tahaa and our much anticipated visit with Tihoti. World renowned tattoo artist, and ever humble master, we found him in his home, as usual, immersed in his designs and drawings and awaiting a 1pm appointment with a French teacher visiting from France. After a warm welcome we hosted Tihoti later for dinner and the following day Tihoti reciprocated with a complete Tahitian meal, which we helped prepare. Manioc, Akule, Ahi, Fei bananas, limes and coconut milk. Lots and lots of awesome coconut milk. We spent the day harvesting and preparing tons of fruit generously gifted to us by the locals in and around the area.

Our departure the next morning had us destined for Raiatea, to refuel and to restock our provisions. Just 10 miles, and a world away, we shopped the aisles of Uturoas supermarket and loaded aboard all the goods with our departure set for 4pm. Lunch in the colorful market, had us mixing with the local carvers, jewelers, food vendors and fruit and veg vendors. A very enjoyable way to pass the lunch hour ensued what with the appearance of a 8 piece Tahitian band setting up in the market square.

Tummies fill, tanks fill and wallets emptied we cast off the lines for the passage to the Tuamotus.

I had foregone purchasing any further meat since we still had a single bucket of reserves in the freezer and I figured we would start fishing in the warmer waters of Tahiti. We had not fished the entire passage from Fiji to Tahiti, both because we had plenty of meat and because the waters were much colder down south. Well at exactly 12H30, just as I was serving lunch through the companionway, the line started flying off the reel. I jumped on it swiftly and began the 45 minute fight to land what was fast becoming a monster. I knew it was big and most likely Ahi from the way it was behaving but I did not imagine just how big it would be. Actually the biggest Ahi I have ever landed in 13 years of sailing. Thanks to Ben and Jerry's expert handling and assembly line follow up we were able to bring the 5ft. 6in. behemoth alongside, gaffed on deck, filleted, wrapped, and refrigerated all in a days work. It really took us the whole day to process this beautiful bounty gifted to us from the sea. It completely filled the two remaining meat buckets and now we have Sashimi, Tuna steaks, tuna belly and even pickled Tuna slivers for the remainder of the trip. So much meat in fact that we will be able to gift a bunch of it over the next few days as we pass through the Tuamotus and the Marquesas. The estimate has unanimously been agreed upon as 160lbs and we managed to yield almost 100lbs of meat.

So now we approach Tikehau atoll, as we expect the suns arrival over the next 2 hours and we hope for an easy entrance to the dangerous archipelago. Manihi atoll after this and then Fatu Hiva.

Mauruuru Moana, Mauruuru Akua for the fine weather and wonderful experiences and gifts we have been blessed with.

A hui hou.

Dylan, Ben and Jerry.

As I slipped into the comfort of a Fiji airlines eye mask I recounted the preparations we had just made due to the wind topping the 20 knot mark and the sun dipping below the horizon. Prudence, is not only an African name, it is also an action aboard ships. Prudence it could be said, or the lack thereof, accounts for most of the encounters that we face at sea. Sometimes it is easier to let Prudence have the night off but that is when she abandons you and runs off with danger to prepare a nightmare for you. So this night as we were executing prudence we soaked up the brilliant sailing and trimmed the headsail about 15% worth, just to take the edge off. The next step would be to furl the small inner headsail. the staysail, if the wind picked up. And the main sail was ready to dump at any time ridding itself of the pressure and pocket of air it was filled with all the while pulling us forward toward Raiatea.

The seas, although interlaced with an occasional 4 foot peak hitting us at just the wrong angle, were fairly calm and we had them safely on our Starboard beam, that is coming at us directly on our right side. With our speed topping out at 8.7 knots we were fairly skipping across the crests and Jerry and I almost reluctantly completed our prudential move.

Instantly our speed dropped to a less worrisome 7.2 knots and Compadre also leveled out a bit maintaining a steady 15-20 degree heel.

Our planning, actions and enjoyments had taken us the better part of an hour and as I went below to catch my forty winks the clock was just on the ten PM mark. Sad to say but the winds were short lived this evening and at 15 minutes after midnight, as Ben had just taken over the watch, I received the call the wind was dying. It seeped away across the horizon and left us fidgety and noisy. Without much success in rustling some wind we resorted to the iron spinnaker and enjoyed the pleasantry of motor sailing, which when done correctly produces excellent results. We were once again skimming across the South Pacific each minute closer to French Polynesia.

Now at 4am the wind shave returned as comfortable trade winds of 12-15 knots and we quietly proceed North East all the while checking off the mileage. Always becoming an easier passage as the 500 mile mark rolls into the 400 mile mark and now the 300 mile mark raising like a hurdle ahead we plan to skip over on our way to the finish line, like some Olympic stars. It is amazing how short 300 miles feels after traversing 2000 miles to reach this point.

It was the round about route for sure but one which most definitely paid dividends in comfortable sailing, cool weather, a serious lack of rough water, thankfully, and therefore the most important thing - very little aches and pains for Compadre. She has been brisk and responsive the whole way and always ready to jump into the action. She has spirited us this far with little incident and for that we are thankful, as I am sure she is of us not bashing upwind directly to Tahiti. That would have been a sour trip indeed.

Our next stop, possibly Monday morning, is Raiatea in French Polynesia. We will check in and take care of errands, refueling, visiting with the gendarmerie and most enjoyably, spending time with Tihoti at his home. He will be on Kauai again next month if all goes to plan. Check in at the gallery on his exact dates if you are keen for a tattoo experience that you will never forget.

Aloha for now.

Dylan, Ben and Jerry.

As the days began weaving themselves into one another due to the very welcomed monotonous routine of sailing, sleeping, eating and watching occurred we entered the night of the sixth day out from Minerva reef. Spirits were high and conditions were calm as anticipated and a comfortable night, this time of motor sailing due East, lay ahead of us once again.

We had an unreal dinner of BBQ Mesquite chicken, home made sweet potato/ white potato mash with garlic and onion, canned asparagus drizzled in Italian dressing (better then it seems) and a fresh salad with our two remaining tomatoes (almost lost these guys) and our always reliable cabbage leaf base. Oh the joy of a crunchy salad at sea. To top it off a glass of red wine (thanks for leaving those bottles on board Vicki!). Life was almost easy at sea and has been the entire time we have been underway. Brilliant sailing, calm seas for the most part and blissful sunsets and sunrises with little aggravating us mechanically.

That was until 23H36 when Jerry jerked me from my slumber land dreams totally confounded. Clearing the mist from my mind as I sped up to the wheel it was instantly apparent that we had a steering issue. The whee; spun freely either direction and the boat did what it wished. Slowly making donuts in the south Pacific like a graceful figure skater (that jumps to mind since we are so much closer to the southern ocean currents and nights have been cold for us tropic birds) .

Compadre has two helms so I ran below and the result was identical. We had no steering at all. Oh my God I am thinking. Are we really going to have to rig up the tiller. What a mess that would be. Moving the dinghy after emptying its contents, removing the engine and flipping it upside down, storing it somewhere, probably the pilothouse and somehow balancing our sails just perfectly allowing us to sail all the way to Tahiti, another 1000 miles, using just the tiller! Please tell me this was not a necessity. Or perhaps we could call into a passing freighter and get a tow line attached and we could be in Tahiti in a couple days! Wishful thinking that is.

Anyway back in reality I ran to the engine room to check the ram leakage, if any. I had notice a few spots there the day before. Not much but I thought perhaps that was the culprit - nada. I then opened the floorboards were the electrical octopus pump is located. This is the pump behind our entire autopilot system, recently replaced and in great condition. To my horror there was oil everywhere, but I was confused. It didn't seem right and on closer inspection the oil seemed to be seeping aft from the bulkhead through hulls were the wiring ran through the boat. Bingo. Opening the forward cupboard the eased screw on the manual steering pump was instantly evident. And oil was everywhere. Of course oil is a lot like blood or bath water. It doesn't take much to look like a lot has spilled.

My fear, once screwing this nut in real tight, was wether or not we had lost too much to replace. Fortunately we had a ram issue three years ago and at the time in the Solomon Islands I had purchased 6 quarts of Automatic Transmission fluid. We thankfully located these and topped the system up over the period of an hour and half and after much port to starboard rotating of the wheel we had a working system again. It is not perfect since now there are some air bubbles in the system which will take a while to work themselves out but in the seas we are constantly moving and so this should happen quicker then if we were at the dock, albeit not quick enough.

We have been manually steering for 45-60 minute period every so often to allow the system time to settle and hope that this assists in getting all the air out and keeping our steering working. That would be a real adventure to work though. One that we hope not to encounter any time soon.

So once again all's well that ends well and we skirt on until the next hurdles present themselves. Currently a Low pressure system is moving swiftly below us and is very deep, causing a big shift in the winds to the north, which we hoped would carry us swiftly to Raiatea and the Tahitian islands. So for now it looks like a jumbled northerly route with fickle winds from many directions over the next 7 days. Wish us luck.

A hui hou.

Dylan, Jerry and Ben.