Lille Ø is our cruising sailboat, a 1979 Amigo 40. A Swedish-built boat with a Danish name, a Finnish crew, and sailing under the German flag. Follow our adventures as we explore the coasts of the Baltic Sea and beyond!
High winds and a bumpy ride continued throughout the night. Sky was mostly clear, and progress was good. At noon winds had subsided a bit, and we shook out the reef.
In the morning we noticed that the starboard deck drain was leaking, right into the main electrical cabinet (great design, Amigo). Caulking was applied.
The half moon illuminates the ocean pleasantly. No more second guessing where the sea ends and sky begins. The separation of the two halves is now visible again. In the cloudless night the wind kept picking up, so at midnight watch change we put the main in second reef. That led to the inevitable decrease in the wind speed also. Well, at least the ride was more comfortable now.
During the day we did some important snack maintenance and dug into the long time storages to get more watch cookies and sweets.
After dinner we had some rain, but otherwise the conditions have remained the same as yesterday, puffy clouds and wind in the low 20s. Lumpy seas.
At night we almost got our 13th vessel spotting. A Japanese fishing boat stayed just below the horizon, only visible by a slight glow in the sky. And of course AIS. Feels we’re pretty far when the fishermen are from Japan!
In morning Suski saw a tropicbird circling the boat. These long-tailed birds we haven’t seen since our Atlantic crossing.
The clouds slowly dissipated during the night revealing the stars. With the clouds gone, the wind also stabilized itself and Lille Ø was again in full control. The dawn rose with only small puffy clouds in the sky, so our solar panels had work cut out for them filling the batteries after couple of grey days.
The wind has been staying at 15 to 20 knots and from a constant direction. The swell is still big, but we have managed to start cutting the first half of the passage into a video. It is nice to be able to introspect the beginning of the journey while still on it.
In the evening the grey skies fulfilled their promise, and the first squall hit us. 90° wind shift and gusting to 30kn, we had to do some manouvering to get back on course.
Then a night of clear skies and light winds, followed by a morning full of squalls. All of this means we’ve been running a meandering course, in between wallowing in lumpy seas with slatting sails.
Not conditions helping a good sleep or a good daily mileage. But onwards we go.
In the dead of the night, we reached a big milestone: The half way mark of this journey. 2060 nautical miles both behind and before us. A point in any journey that brings a change. You are no longer going deeper into the voyage, you are easing off. It feels like we are emerging from the darkness together with the moon, which now in it’s crescent form lingers in the evening sky for an hour longer every day.
The day is grey and we are being pushed by the wind at varying speeds. The gusts come in at times still warranting the first reef and staysail, at times more sail would be necessary but as ocean sailors, we prefer the safer option. So we sail onwards, there is only miles worth to cross the Atlantic with left!
After consulting the weather forecast, we decided to take another degree to the south to avoid a few squally, rainy, grey days. So far this strategy has succeeded, with zero drops of rain instead of the downpour that we would’ve gotten.
The dark nights of the new moon continue. On today’s walkaround check we found and ejected 15 flying fish and 2 squid from the deck and the scuppers.
At 8°30S we turned again west. As solar production has been good, we made some extra water and did a round of laundry.
We’ve been under way for three weeks now.
The night fell under starless sky. The clouds hanging low and occasionally we where greeted by drizzle. With no sense of where the sea ends and sky begins, the flying fish were taking wrong turns on a constant rate. Few of them even landed in the cockpit. As the night grew longer, every now and the clouds would scatter revealing the starry night sky.
Main still in first reef and staysail on we greeted the sun and kept barreling up and down the waves. Wind has been shifting every few hours by 50ish degrees, so the seas are lumpy. Lille Ø bounces up and down, side to side. The hunt for things that haven’t yet settled to their spot is a sport to keep us occupied. And finding deep sleep in a bed not stable, a skill to be cherished.
The night was again a smooth magic carpet ride under the starlit sky. But at dawn things became grey and wind picked up. We tucked in a reef. At 7°30 we made the turn west, wing on wing. This latitude should keep us below worst of the squally weather.
We’ve been wondering about the low daily miles, and today we found the culprit: we have quite a farm of gooseneck barnacles on the hull. This means a bit longer passage time until we can clear the hull in Marquesas.
To take our mind off the grey weather, we decided on a movie night before dinner. Moana was good introduction to the southern Pacific.
In the light winds we decided to head a couple of degrees more south. So we trimmed the sails to a beam reach and glided along the swell silently. In the cloudless dark night sky you can see the Milky Way very clearly. Orion high in the sky and big dipper is hanging wrong way around pointing to a star not visible anymore.
We got to add ship #11 to the list of boats seen. Now we both are out of the guessing game. We have seen more boats than either of us anticipated. Progress is slow and the only fresh stuff we have left is onions, garlic and a few limes. And the kitchen garden. Fresh herbs in the middle of an ocean is such a luxury.
