From Cocos Keeling Island to Rodriguez across the Indian Ocean

It is late on Friday night and I am just a few miles away from Rodriguez, an island of Mauritius, after two weeks at sea. The wind is blowing and the seas are big. The lady is sailing along with all her sails pulled down, bare poles they call it.  The wind is that strong that it is blowing the boat along at 6 knots or 10 kms and in the right direction.  I have spent the last 24 hours slowing the boat down so I arrive at the island at day break as I do not want to enter the port in the dark.

This update:

• Reflects back over this passage
• Records the farewell from Cocos Island 
• Explains how a head encounter slowed me down 
• Paints pictures of the landscape

This has been a wonderful passage and I have never slept so much while at sea.  Day after day the seas have been a decent size coming from the south-west while the wind was blowing from the south-east.  The result was a fast but bumpy ride that encouraged me to spend many hours in the bunk reading, eating, watching movies and sleeping. Cooking was hard work and eating was often done in stages. Cook the potatoes and eat them. Cook the peas and beans and eat them and then try to cook the meat without the steaks flying from the pan. The pressure cooker and the oven have become my favorite means of cooking.  It is all about containment, not taste.

The lady has performed at her best. A lot of water came over the bow and big waves tried to shove her around. She is very kind and does not do silly things like falling off waves or heading in the wrong direction because of the pressure of the wind. Speed was excellent with some days doing 192 miles or 300 kms in 24 hours. That hooting, achieving an average of 8 knots or 13kms per hour with minimum bruising to my body.

This passage I did in company with Jeanne Socrates another solo sailor who has set out to sail her boat around the world in 12 months, starting and finishing in Panama. We started together but I ended up about 150 miles in front of her. Early in the morning we would speak on the high frequency radio and when we were much closer at the start, we took turns in doing watches which would allow you to get a good sound sleep knowing there was a pair of eyes on the lookout.  Every evening we would be part of a radio link-up with six other boats scattered across the Indian Ocean. We would give each other our position, a weather update and a general chat about the day. All of these people I had met when we were at Cocos and I will meet up with them again in South Africa.

The long farewell
This is my first night at sea after 3 weeks in paradise at Cocos Island. The lady is ploughing through a moderate sea with a good wind taking me to Rodriguez some 2,000 miles or 3,600 km away. I can expect to be there in about 2 weeks. It is also time to reflect on how hard it was to leave this splendid part of the world.

Late this morning I left. The departure was long coming and a special moment. Sunday was a beautiful day, crystal clear water, not a cloud in the sky and a light breeze. Departure was timed for high tide so you can skirt around the reefs with plenty of water under the keel.

Today I was joined by Mark, a fellow yachtie who with his partner Kimberly were my neighbours and both had become good friends. On this occasion he was my pilot to take the lady out of the anchorage.  He tied his dingy along the lady and drove the boat forward allowing me to raise the anchor and tie it down out of harms way in the chain locker in the front of the boat. He turned the lady around and motored down the bay past the other 10 yachts to the sound of their ship’s horns blasting out a farewell. Crew stood on their decks waving and shouting good cheer, safe voyage and encouragement to enjoy the passage. I stood in the cockpit blowing my horn and waving farewell. I was moved by their fond wishes for they all knew what you can expect when you go to sea. Shortly after, Jeanne another solo sailor from England joined us in her yacht. As we entered the reef passage she weaved her way close behind taking the same route Mark was using to avoid the reefs. Once into the shipping channel it was a firm handshake and a meaningful embrace from Mark. He popped over the side into his dingy and motored back to his boat.

My planned departure was for last Wednesday. All was going to plan. On Monday night the box with the repaired Automatic Identification System and lots of other goodies including a huge bundle of DVDs from Nuala arrived on the plane from Perth. In addition Nuala and Ingrid had also sent a new 2.4 metre VHF antenna in a long orange tube. I collected them on Tuesday morning from the airport that is also the golf course.  I carefully brought them back to the boat inside waterproof bags in the little dingy bouncing around in a very choppy sea and, need I say, a very wet trip.

Tuesday night was also my farewell dinner that Kimberly had prepared. It started with a game of badminton, sundowners on the beach with nibbles to watch the sun set and then dinner of steaks, salads and home made pumpkin bread under the shelter on the island.  Farewell speeches and a sing-along with Nick and Kimberly playing their ukuleles made for a perfect evening.

Wednesday, I mounted the electronic equipment only to find it was not working. This resulted in lots of phone calls to Sydney, trying this, changing that, testing and reporting back to the Australian product distributor. And through all of this having to continue to deal with technicians that appeared to have a great difficulty understanding that I am not a complete moron but I was not born with a soldering iron in my hand and a computer degree rapped in my nappy.  By 2am on Thursday morning I had called the manufacturers of the black box and the chart plotter in England.  Later in the morning I achieved success and luck was on my side. While using the equipment I saw a ship passing close by Cocos Island and they were also able to see me on their system. A celebratory drink and then off to bed totally exhausted from absolute frustration but very pleased. Upon waking it was too late to go to sea and sailors do not start a passage on Friday. Why? For the same reason they do not carry bananas. Superstition some may call it.  I like to think of it as keeping the gods happy and having as much as you can in your favour.

Saturday morning and I was ready. One last little job of mounting pieces of thongs or flip flops to cushion the vibration of the wind electric generator saw me bang my shoulder. I was not going to sea in pain with one arm to work the winches and raise sails.  Saturday night another BBQ, more speeches, lots of laughter and fun with the crews from the many new yachts that had arrived at the island. And now we are back to where I started, Sunday morning and a call on the radio to the Australian Federal Police, who also do the work of customs, to say I was officially leaving and off I went.

Ups and Down
Day 2 sailing from Cocos the wind was strong and the sea a decent size, big enough to dump great quantities of water over the boat. The spray dodger or canvas cover mounted over the companionway, the entrance to the cabin, stops most of the spray. Today more water than usual was landing in the cockpit so I closed the companionway hatch, the lid over the entrance to keep the spray out of the cabin.

In my haste to make a sail adjustment I bounced up the companionway steps and not see the hatch was shut, banged by head on the underside of the hatch. And I did it with great gusto while singing along at the top of my voice to the 70’s one hit wonder band Edison Lighthouse’s song “Love grows where my Rosemary goes”. The result - concussion and lots of Rosemarys spinning in a pool of blackness.

We have all banged out heads at some time and know what a horrible feeling it is. Instantly I had a lump on my head the size of a Bishops scull cap and feeling rather unwell. With thanks to Medical Industries Australia I was into my three boxes of medical supplies to find an instant cold pack which I applied to the head and took the first of the headache pills and had a good lie down. The pain is so unpleasant that you wonder why any person would allow their heads to be banged around in a boxing ring or on a football field.

For the next 36 hours I was confined to my bunk sleeping. I was constantly tired but I still had to run the ship and all that it involves.  I pulled out the heavy weather food supplies which consist of biscuits and cans that you can eat cold, even Stagg’s chunky beef and chilly beans, baked beans, peas, corn, fish and corned beef. No preparation required simply open and eat and pretend you are having a gourmet delight.

I slowed the speed of the boat down to make motion of the lady a little more pleasant and generally she required no assistance from me to keep on sailing in the direction of Rodriguez. Although I slept I still heard the alarms and would clamber out of the bunk to check.  The majority were from the automatic identification system warning me of an approaching ship.  This resulted in speaking to the ship on the radio, monitoring their position and if necessary altering course to avoid each other and then back to the bunk to sleep and to dream. Charging the batteries, taking part in radio skids with other boats and navigating still had to go on.

I feel an idiot that I caused my own injury because I did not look.  This has been overcome with a very bright colorful piece of material on a hook that now hangs from the hatch should it be closed. At least I will stop long enough to admire the fabric which should be enough time for the brain to kick in to make me look up and open the hatch cover. This incident also make you realise how vulnerable you are as a solo sailor. Don’t worry, I have given me, myself and I a good lecture and we are committed to work well together with the OH&S manual.

The ridge, the circle and the rush
Having been at sea on my own for a couple of weeks now you start to see and feel the landscape around you, even for the mere male.

As I cross the Indian Ocean heading in a south-west direction from the top of Australia to the bottom of Africa you see the colours of the ocean change from a dark green to a deep navy blue. It now makes sense when you sail past Garden Island, the naval base on Sydney Harbour, and you see the green grey painted ships that have been playing war games in the Pacific to the grey, grey ships that have been doing the real war thing in the middle east.

A much nicer observation of the sea is the ridge.  In a big sea that I have traveling through for a few days, the lady will climb a wave and for a moment you are sitting on the top of the wave, the ridge. You can see out over the sea for miles. Some ridges are higher than others and running down the other side of the ridge can be steeper than others.  The lady never lets you down; she will slip down into the valley and ready herself for the next climb. When down in the valley you look up at the next wave and beautiful colours appear. The dark navy blue wave has thin stripes of white foam from the strong winds brushed down the front of it. As you climb the wave you see the top of the wave suddenly turn to a turquoise blue with the sun shining behind it as the wave narrows. At the top of the wave the white tip rolls over foaming down its own face with just the same sound as a wave breaking on the beach. It is the beauty of the sudden appearance of turquoise near the top of that ridge shining like green cut glass or stained glass with the early morning sun shining through it.  The best part is seconds later another wave, the ride to the top of the ridge, time to enjoy the colours and then slide down the other side into the valley.

I stand on the deck and look all around me.  This is my world, nobody else is here. What a privilege to be in the middle of the Indian Ocean and it’s my own as far as the eye can see.  What you realise is that you are in the middle of a big circle. You can see the curved horizon some 3 to 5 miles away. At night the circle becomes a dome. The sea is black but the sky is glowing, showing a very small part of the universe that goes from horizon to horizon in every direction.  As you look up at the stars you see the light at the top of the mast glowing. Your light does not merge into the sea and clouds of stars, instead the light becomes your symbol that swings and sways it way across the sky marking your presence.

I continually enjoy the sense of speed. When on deck you see the boat surge down the waves, lean over as the wind drives the sails and see tonnes of water gushing over the front of the boat and rushing down the side as the lady cuts through a wave.  You also see the foaming water stream behind you that the lady has created as she moves through the water and you confirm the experience by looking at the speed and wind instruments. This is the rush. Down below the bunk is the best place to be when the sea and wind are performing. You hear the water rushing past the side of the boat, you feel the lady piece through a wave and your body is pushed into the side of the bunk and she leans over with the force of the wind and the sea. You then straighten up and then lurch back over again. This is the excitement of the rush.

You know people pay good money to enjoy these thrills.

The next stage
Early in the morning I hope to sail into Rodriguez and spend a few days discovering the island and the people plus stocking up on fresh fruit and vegetables. A 500 mile trip will take me to Mauritius where I will stay at Port Louis for a couple of days then up the coast to a bay where yachties gather. After a few repairs I will then sail south to Reunion Island a French outpost.  At the beginning of November I will sail for Durban in South Africa another 2 weeks journey across seas famous for its storms, strong current and outrageously big seas. Can’t wait for that!

A huge thank you to all of you that have rung over the past couple of weeks or sent emails. It is an absolute pleasure to know lovely people.

I am still having the time of my life and always grateful to many for the opportunity.

Love to you all
Peter

Thank you to my supporters:
 
–        Medical Industries Australia for an extensive offshore medical kit
–        JSE Marine Electrical for extensive spare parts and tools
–        Endeavour Marine for spare parts for the Volvo Penta engine