{"id":737,"date":"2005-12-20T00:00:00","date_gmt":"2005-12-20T00:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/setsail.com\/?p=737"},"modified":"2009-04-15T08:59:40","modified_gmt":"2009-04-15T13:59:40","slug":"s_logs-dashew-dashew231","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/setsail.com\/s_logs-dashew-dashew231\/","title":{"rendered":"First Crossing"},"content":{"rendered":"
At the request of a SetSail reader, Linda recalls their first ocean passage aboard Intermezzo in 1977.<\/div>\n

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9:50 AM, Sunday, January 30, 1977 was the day we embarked on a 2,700-mile passage from mainland Mexico to the Marquesas Islands in the South Pacific – our first ocean crossing. <\/p>\n

Steve didn’t know what a religious experience was, but felt like he had had one a few years earlier, while reading an article in an in-flight magazine on one of his frequent business trips. The article was about people who had drastically changed their lifestyles. One person had bought a cattle ranch in Montana, and someone else had bought a boat and gone sailing. Steve had an epiphany – sell the house, get out of the rat race, buy a boat, and sail away. Now if he could just bring me around to the idea. <\/p>\n

It didn’t take much to convince me that this could be a great adventure and a good way to allow Steve to spend more time with our two girls. Up until now, with his long working hours and many business trips, he had been only a weekend presence in their lives, if that. During the week he was gone before the girls woke up in the morning, and home after their bedtime. <\/p>\n

We had successfully raced cats for many years, and thought that this experience would be good preparation. Yet, when it came to crossing an ocean with our family, we felt more comfortable in a monohull, which would bounce back up in a knockdown. We bought Intermezzo<\/em>, a Columbia 50, and sea-trialed her over Christmas the first year we had her. Running before a storm down Cedros Island in Baja, Mexico reinforced the monohull concept. <\/p>\n

We had sold one house, and bought another (destined to be a rental investment) that we lived in for a year as we prepped the boat and ourselves. We moved aboard Intermezzo <\/em>on November 4, 1976, Elyse’s seventh birthday. Finally getting away from the dock in Los Angeles was a huge relief, and we enjoyed working our way down the coast of Baja California, then crossing over to the mainland of Mexico at Puerto Vallarta. Our daughters Elyse and Sarah were seven and four, and we were in our mid-30s. <\/p>\n

As we left the North American continent and headed for the South Pacific, were we scared? Exhilarated? Excited? Probably all of the above. The prospect of actually leaving the coast, pointing our nose SW and crossing more than 2700 miles of open water was like taking that first big jump off the high diving board. The boat was ready, we were ready, we just had to take a deep breath and go for it. <\/p>\n

I remember spending our second-to-last day in Mexico baking cookies and bagels. We went ashore in Yolapa for last-minute provisions, including a stalk of green bananas. Beaching the dinghy, I mis-timed the waves; my feet went out from under me in the surf, and I landed on my back in the water. Soggily I trudged alongside Steve and the girls, passing roosters, pigs, dogs, donkeys and even a turkey. Yolapa was pretty isolated in those days with no road access, so the dirt trails we were walking over were designed for horses. The plan was to spend the last of our pesos on a dinner ashore, but about 4 o’clock the wind piped up to 25 knots and a 6-foot surf was going to make for tricky rowing back to the boat, so we hurried back. We had two sets of oar locks and managed a perfect launch through the surf. Didn’t even get splashed. <\/p>\n

The next morning we moved over to Ipala. Robert, a friend from a boat named Privateer <\/em>climbed the spreaders and blewthe conch shell when we upped anchor. A shrimp boat came in and anchored for the night, and we spent the last of our pesos on fresh shrimp for a yummy home-cooked final meal near land. <\/p>\n

We were on our way to the South Pacific. The first day the seas were sloppy and we sighted two ships. Soon the seas smoothed out and we had a broad reach in twenty knots, making good 177 miles in the first 24 hours. In the olden days, with just a 34′ waterline (we were 50′ on deck) this was fantastic going. The wind began to drop, precipitating the first of many sail changes as we set the number one genoa, but left the main reefed. <\/p>\n

Day two, we thought we might be in the trade winds already and were flying along in twelve to fourteen knots of wind with the jib poled out to weather and the drifter set flying to leeward. We sheeted the double-reefed main to leeward to help reduce rolling. We had our first excitement at 1900 when the drifter halyard let go – Steve went aloft to retrieve it and was astounded by the magnificent view from the top of the spar, sixty feet above the water. But he soon came back down – the boat was literally rolling along downwind, and that rolling was much more pronounced way up there. <\/p>\n

Our watch schedule was four hours on and four hours off. My evening watch from 4 PM to 8 PM (1600 to 2000) was a fun time for Elyse, Sarah and me. We would sit in the cockpit and watch the sunset, then wait for the first stars and the moon. I taught them all of the old songs I had learned at Girl Scout camp and I took them on “Tiger Hunts” – a game that involved a lot of pantomime and slapping of hands on knees. Many a night we were sailing along singing “Shine on Silvery Moon”, “Daisy, Daisy,” and “Down by the Old Mill Stream” at the top of our lungs. <\/p>\n

Elyse would do her school work in the mornings. It usually took me about an hour to prepare meals and another hour to clean up. We carried 200 gallons of fresh water and used hot salt water for showering and washing dishes, followed by a fresh water rinse. Nobody used watermakers in those days. <\/p>\n

The wind continued to drop and we shook out the reef in the main on February 2nd, letting the drifter fly loose. We logged 165, 164 and 163 miles the next three days. Wind was on the quarter, ENE, and it wasn’t long before things became really HOT! We had no apparent wind through the boat, and no fans down below. Elyse and Sarah started sleeping in the cockpit or on the main saloon settees. <\/p>\n

On February 3rd the jib came down off the pole and we dropped the drifter, discovering tears in the head reinforcing. This gave me my first sail repair job. Steve discovered that the fresh water pump bearing was leaking on the engine. He loosened the alternator pump belt in an attempt to save the bearing. Only 130 miles logged that day. We were wearing no more than swim suits day and night. The sky was cloudy and grey, and it was even HOTTER! <\/p>\n

February 4th, we were watching the electricity consumption so as to run the engine minimally. The wind was fluky at ten knots. 157 miles made good. Steve decided to try bypassing the heat exchangers and pump salt water directly through the block to cool the engine. (This worked for three-and-a-half months, until we got a new bearing and a spare pump in Papeete.) Feeling ambitious and already dirty from this job, he tackled the RVG wind vane, which had been oscillating due to a plastic bearing wearing out, causing a constant squeek. Numerous approaches all failed to help, so we tied off the blade and decided to do without the wind vane. <\/p>\n

The day before Valentine’s Day we had a run of 156 miles and crossed the equator. We knew we had crossed because the water was whirling down the sink drain opposite to the way it did at home. Steve had a big problem with his celestial navigation sights that day. They were simply not coming out right until I remembered that there are some figures that you reverse in the southern latitudes. <\/p>\n

Elyse and Sarah dressed up in their prettiest dresses and we had our visit from Poseidon to initiate the pollywogs. I wrapped a red table cloth around me, wore a big, floppy sun hat and carried the ship’s broom for a scepter. We made up silly oaths to take, I blew on a whistle, the kids banged pans and played the tambourine, and Steve shook the mariachis. We’d passed the 2,000-mile mark and broke out the charts for the Marquesas Islands. <\/p>\n

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A valentine Sarah made on another long ocean passage three years later – from South Africa to the British Virgin Islands. <\/div>\n<\/div>\n

On Valentine’s Day we all gave each other handmade cards. The barometer was rising, and the wind was lighter and behind us. We decided to try out flying the spinnaker. It was fantastic. It brought the boat speed up and the apparent wind forward, which cooled off the boat, and we logged 155 miles. We had to use the autopilot to steer the boat, which meant running the engine three to four hours a day, but the sailing was so delightful and relatively cool, that it was worth it. The next two days stayed light, and we covered 156 and 159 miles. <\/p>\n

On the 15th day out, I spotted a big fishing vessel. It was just after dark and at first it looked like a bright star on the horizon. It soon became apparent that it was a mother ship with smaller boats running alongside. It was probably a factory ship. It was a lesson for us to always be vigilant and check for shipping, even so far away from shipping lanes and land. <\/p>\n

On the 17th, Steve was down below working up a DR position and felt a COLD gust of wind. He rushed on deck (it was 0200). He unhooked the pilot, which was beginning to fall off when BAM! a 40-knot squall hit, rounding us up and laying the rail in the water. He yelled for me to come up on deck. It was pitch black, howling, we were heeled over so far it was a struggle to get out of the bunk. Barefoot and in a nightie, I struggled into my safety harness, barely awake. No way was I going out on deck without being hooked on! By the time I managed to get on deck Steve had managed to reach the mizzen staysail sheet and ease it off. I held the helm down while he eased the spinnaker sheet. We doused the mizzen staysail, which had a well-earned rest for the rest of the night. <\/p>\n

At 0927 on the morning of the 18th, Land Ho! Whoever spotted land first was promised a candy bar. I don’t remember who it was, but I do remember Sarah had gotten into a little trouble earlier when she was "rehearsing" what she would say if she spotted land first – a loud “Land HO” and a false alarm. <\/p>\n

Now we could really see the island of Ua Huka, twenty miles east of our DR plot, but exactly where the 0800 fix said we were supposed to be. It turns out there was a 15-mile-per-night current set to the west that we had been getting all along, that failed to materialize on this last night. <\/p>\n

To our delight the dolphins were soon frolicking alongside. They must have been sent by the friendly dolphins of Mexico’s Banderas Bay, who had escorted us at the beginning of this journey. At 1625 the island of Nuka Hiva, the main port of entry to the Marquesas, was abeam, and by 1730 the anchor was down in Taeiohai Bay. Average for the trip, including the doldrums, was 150 miles a day. We motored only twenty hours during the doldrums. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

At the request of a SetSail reader, Linda recalls their first ocean passage aboard Intermezzo in 1977.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-737","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-dashew-blog"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/setsail.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/737"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/setsail.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/setsail.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/setsail.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/setsail.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=737"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/setsail.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/737\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/setsail.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=737"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/setsail.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=737"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/setsail.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=737"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}