Sunday, August 22, 2010

On the Subject of Swells, and Future Destinations

I joined up with the WTP and crew in Tahiti, with limited offshore sailing experience. The thought of multiple days at sea was new to me and I didn't quite know what to expect. The most noticeable thing on the boat was (and still is) the degree to which the size of swells affect the motion of the boat and the location of various secured and unsecured objects down below. Things that don't get a second thought when we're calmly at anchor become the most persistently annoying source of thumps, bumps, and squeaks when we're rocking and rolling around underway. Often I search for the culprits of these noises for days before figuring out what's causing them and finally silencing them.

Aside from the noise caused by things bumping around, the general level of comfort while moving about, sleeping (or trying to), and being up on watch is directly affected by the size of the swells. In big swells, it requires both hands and timed ricocheting off walls to move from the galley to your bunk. Once you arrive at your bunk, more careful timing is needed to determine the precise moment at which to aim and launch yourself into said bunk. To become comfortable, I usually strategically place my sleeping bag between myself and whatever side of my bunk I'm more likely to roll into harder. It also helps if I spread myself out as flat as possible, as this reduces rolling.

During the first two months of my time on the boat, we sailed from Tahiti to Cairns, Australia. The swells on some of the crossings were pretty big. Some, like the short hop from American Samoa to Samoa, were downright huge. We held a team meeting to test and secure strobes onto PFDs, just in case.

While it was daunting to have the boat pitching and rolling so drastically right at the start, I wouldn't have had it any other way. I would much rather see how rough it can be right away, because then anything calmer is appreciated more. The same goes for length of crossings. From Bora Bora to American Samoa took 10 days and from then on anything shorter seemed like no big deal, because we had already done something longer.
Our time in Australia has been very pleasant. Since we're inside the Great Barrier Reef the swells have been practically nonexistent, and with trade winds behind us we've had steady and good speed. Even across the Bay of Carpentia we had good weather, and many Australians we spoke to said that could be the worst bit of sailing in Australia. The temperamental squalls of the South Pacific are gone. Often we'll see massive thunder heads and a distinct line of dark clouds that will simply dissipate into nothing, and our days have been full of sunshine. We're not in a great hurry; as long as we make it to Darwin by the last day of the month to meet Halley, we're good.

I will miss Australia's sheer wildness, the 'life is good!' attitude of Australians, and the relatively calm comfort such protected sailing provides, but the allure of new places full of their own sights, sounds, people, animals, and foods is a strong one. We will probably (alright, definitely) encounter rough weather and big swells in the future, but the first sight of land in a new country always banishes thoughts of a rough crossing from my mind, and I am greatly looking forward to all the exciting destinations ahead of us.