By this time we were all working together pretty well. We knew what needed to be done, and worked it out without much discussion at all. The three of us had been away from home on the boat for over a week and we were still speaking to each other! That alone is an accomplishment. We were all becoming more confident in our boat and in our own capabilities.
Heading out that morning, the weather was forecasted to be "iffy". Wind was forecasted at ~15-20 knots with 5-7 foot waves. As we passed Tinian, Leif announced that he 'couldn't wait to see a 7 foot wave'. He would be eating his words later...(the opposite, actually...)...
So far I have neglected to mention my aptitude for making electronic devices stop working properly. For some reason, electronic devices seem to forget what they are supposed to be doing when I use them. It's not that I'm a techno-phobe or use them improperly, I just don't have a good track record. Luckily I have a 13-year old who can straighten out most issues effortlessly. Usually. Somehow I managed to screw up our digital chartplotter simply by zooming in while I was on night watch. The primary colors separated on the screen, so now we see three of everything...one blue, one yellow, and one red. Nick called the manufacturer and of course they have never heard of such a thing and we will have to send it in. I say we let the 13-year old have a crack at it... In the meantime the Samsung tablet I brought along for reading works just as well with FREE software. Put it in a gallon size ziplock and you're good as gold...until the battery dies.
Improvisation is the key to a successful sail.
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Not feeling bad anymore, but not feeling great either - hadn't reached steady 7 foot waves yet.
After passing the islands of Tinian and Aguijan we again faced winds and current that get funneled through/between islands. The wind was steady at around 15 kts, but coming out from behind the protection of the islands shook things up a bit. Waves started out around 4-6 feet which is still pretty comfortable riding on Stillwater. We kept the autopilot running the show, although it sucks the life out of our batteries. Not having to steer makes the trip much more relaxed though, so it's a good tradeoff. Using autopilot is still relatively new to us, and we remain vigilant on deck even though we're not physically involved in the steering. This practice is very beneficial when your autopilot stops working a SECOND time, this time with a loud crashing noise from directly below us (where the steering hardware is). It sounded bad enough that I wasn't sure we were going to be able to steer at all. Luckily only the autopilot was out of commission, not the entire steering apparatus. However, this time Nick was NOT expecting the autopilot to fail. He ran below while I steered to assess the damage. He returned with this photo:
... apparently it's the support for the autopilot. Old, rotted wood and fiberglass that could no longer support it. Again, not something that's fixable on the water. Put it on the growing list of work to be completed when we get home.
With the new autopilot development, we were again steering by hand. This turned out to be essential anyway, because the seas got quite a bit rougher. One of us had already lost our lunch and was no longer eager to see 7' waves. I was still at the helm, and was able to make the ride a bit more manageable by maneuvering through the waves instead of simply holding a course as the autopilot does. Waves easily reached 5-7' and higher as we crossed the channel.
(yes, mom, we were all wearing lifejackets and harnesses tethering us to the boat)
As it grew dark, the waves started to organize into larger swells. We could see Rota by this point, but we were not nearly close enough to reach it before nightfall. I was tired, but comfortable in the role of helmsman throughout the rough weather (~6 hours or more). It made me feel more at ease to have some control over how the boat moved. As the sun went down, the waves continued to build as did my uneasiness. We kept checking our distance as we steadily made progress toward our destination. I kept my eye on a light shining high on one of Rota's hilltops...sort of my "guiding light"...
I was very much looking forward to entering the lee of the island as we got closer. Large waves became more intermittent and I was able to hold a steadier course, but knew better than to let my guard down. Once in a while we would get hit with a larger set of swells that would keep me on task. Then it came. It was described later by one of the other captains as a "hissing" sound behind me. I turned around and saw nothing until I looked up and saw white foam about 15' above my head. Visions of pitch-poling popped into my head. Although this rogue wave was not big enough to do that, it could have caused a LOT of damage had it crashed on top of us. I told Nick and Leif to hold on (not as calmly as I had previously throughout this passage) and turned the wheel to port just enough to sort of "surf" the wave...not taking it on the stern or on the beam. My instinct proved to be the right course of action and we did a bit of rocking afterward but nothing more. With shaking legs and adrenaline spent, I didn't last much longer at the helm. We reached the lee of Rota shortly after the sea had sent us one last reminder of who was in charge.
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| Note: NOT to scale...although it felt like it at the time... |
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