Pacific crossing - days 1-10

Leaving Panama (Days 1-2 After a frustrating three weeks in Panama (we had intended to stay 3-5 days), we were finally ready to set off into the Pacfic heading for the Marquesas Islands in French Polynesia. Our plan was to slip our mooring in Balboa Yacht Club (out home for the last few weeks) and motor down to La Playita marina for our final fuel and water fill for which we had pre-booked a 30 minute slot on their pontoon. Panama wasn't going to let us out of its grip that easily, however. We awoke to find that 3 out of the 4 extra diesel jerry cans we had bought had been stolen from the boat and when we arrived at La Playita marine their water hose connection had sheared from the upstream pipe so we were unhelpfully told 'no water'.

We bought the last fuel can in the onsite chandlery and filled all the cans and the main tank, giving us around 400 litres to play with for the crossing. Despite the efforts of the surly and useless dock assistant, Damo managed to bodge a connection between our on board hose and another tap to get our water tanks filled to the brim and give the decks a rinse. With all of our fresh food, bottled/canned drinks, tanked water, fuel, and tinned food, Rafiki was noticeably sitting lower in the water than ususal.

Note for anyone going to Playita - even if you buy a load of fuel from the pontoon, you'll still be charged a 'pontoon fee' of USD 35 for 30 minutes, daylight robbery! Motoring away from Panama, we picked our way through the seemingly never ending rows of anchored ships awaiting their canal transit to the Caribbean. The heat was intense with little wind and distracting when trying to pilot in one of the busiest waterways in the world. We headed SW from Panama staying just outside the Traffic Separation Scheme (basically inbound and outbound lanes which the big ships have to stay in) and dropped Adam's new fishing lures out the back. Over the next few hours a decent sized tuna and a few good dorado were pulled in but subsequently released given no-one's burning desire to gut and fillet them less than half a day out of Panama...

On exiting the TSS, we had to cross its largest entry/exit point which is akin to crossing a 4 lane motorway with one leg, in the dark, wearing sunglasses. Fortunately a combination of Radar, AIS, good binoculars and a powerful engine took a lot of the guesswork out of such manouvers and with the help of a few course adjustments from tankers, we were clear on our heading South to the Galapagos. The next day was rather uneventful and save for the hooking of a nice dorado, were mainly filled with the noises and actions of four people struggling to get into a foreign routine (2 hours on, 7.5 off in fair weather).

**********************************************************************************

The dreaded Doldrums and Damo the chef (Days 3 - 8)

The doldrums (or ITCZ if you prefer) is an area around the equator famous for light/changeable winds and thunderstorms. Its position changes throughout the year but our arrival at its outer bounds late on day 3 was dramatic. We had gotten fairly proficient at tracking squalls in the Atlantic/Caribbean by eye and radar and thought we could dodge some of the worst that the doldrums had to offer. No such luck. The skies were angry for miles and the radar screen lit up like a christmas tree in all directions.

For 5 solid days we were pounded by torrential downpours, winds through all 360 degrees of the compass rose and lightning of every shape, colour and breed as we tried to edge south to the equator. Sails flogged constantly and the noise was unbearable while making 2-3 knots of progress. A lightning strike to a boat is no laughing matter, documented reports range from no damage, to 'temperamental' electronics to holes blown in boats and sinkings.

At points in the doldrums it seemed like we were surrounded by strikes all around the boat, with all of us praying we would be lucky and come out unscathed. Our two main priorities on Rafiki are the crew and our emergency electronics. This means not being in contact with metal parts of the boat/going down below and also putting our satphone, handleld VHF and a few other items in the oven which will hopefully keep them safe acting as some sort of Faraday Cage.

Late night on day 3 I duly collected up the electronics and placed them in the oven, careful to tape off the gas valve and remind all of their location. The next morning Adam had taken them out to cook a bit of breakfast, let the oven cool, and put them back in. It was coincidental that Damo chose this same day to whip up one of his (now) famous quiches. For the avoidance of doubt, I asked Adam to remind Damo of the gadgets' presence which he duly did. No worries. About 30 minutes later, a worried Damo appeared on deck and let us know he'd turned the oven on and cooked the electronics. We waited for the punchline. Then we waited some more for the punchline. Turns out it wasn't a joke and the devices with melted aerials were passed up from the galley to cool down. After a nerve racking couple of hours, I gingerly powered up the satphone & VHF and was relieved that they had survived their little sauna operationally unscathed!

We had frequent weather updates coming in as GRIB files via our SSB radio but these were pretty much useless, so we were totally reliant on the expert weather routing coming from our forecaster in the UK, Simon Keeling. Simon has been helping us out with our weather needs since our Biscay crossing and we know him well now, so when he told us frankly that things weren't going to improve until South of the ITCZ, we were a little depressed. Compared to others' experiences of the doldrums, we actually made decent progress, only using the engine for 5-6 hours on day 7 when the wind went from changeable to non existent.

********************************************************************

The Equator (day 8)

The doldrums ended as abruptly as they had started, all of a sudden we were propelled into stable winds, clear skies and most importantly, no bloody lighting. As if to signal the transition, we were greeted with pods of lively dolphins playing in Rafiki's bow wave and then later by a huge group of whales placidly making its way past us.

On the morning of Day 8, I was on watch 0400-0630 boat time and was counting down the miles to the equator. When we were around 2 miles out, I woke the rest of the crew and we watched the chartplotter count down until we passed into the southern hemisphere. We had picked up a rather nice bottle of bubbly in Panama and cracked this open to celebrate the milestone. Such a significant marker in our progress reminded me how quickly this adventure came together.... Spring 2013 I had a stupid idea to 'do the ARC' Summer 2013 we were viewing potential boats Winter 2013 I was signing the paperwork to become Rafiki's new owner April 2014 Rafiki went in the water and we started climbing the very steel learning curve July 2014 We crossed the notorious Bay of Biscay November/December 2014 we crossed the Atlantic with the ARC and arrived in the caribbean!

************************************************************************************************

Galapagos (days 9-10)

We're now into some decent consistent winds, mainly south or south easterly 10-15 knots. Rafiki can make some decent speeds in these winds with her full rig up, so we're eating up the miles with the boat pointing at the Marquesas. The only downside of this angle of sail is that it puts our beam onto the waves & swell, so we're getting used to the constant rolling motion and doing our best to avoid the occasional wave in the face while on watch. As the skies clear up, I'm hoping to be able to take more sights with the sextant and increase the accuracy as we move west. Best to date is within 1 mile of our GPS latitude.

AS I type this blog, the last island in the Galapagos chain is passing by Rafiki's starboard side. Originally we had hoped to make Galapagos part of the trip, but a combination of timing and finances meant it wasn't possible this time. It was with a heavy heart that we crossed them off the itinerary but with unforeseen delay in Panama I think it was for the best. Just means we'll need to come back and do them some other time!

All in all, everything is going well. Rafiki continues to prove herself in pretty much any wind and sea combo, our food is lasting well, the watermaker is keeping up with our needs (we're still on tank 1 of 4) and it seems like the winds are shaping up to be pretty consistent. Long may it last!