What a horrible 24 hours!
I actually leave Mike to sleep until 2 am as he really needs to be able to function when he is awake. As he gets up, so does the wind, and the sea gets even choppier until the sailing conditions are the worst we have had for some time, maybe even the worst since leaving St Lucia and the boat pitches and heaves, making the most God-awful noise. And in this I am expected to sleep! Unpleasantly, the wind is coming from behind but the waves are hitting us from the side – not a comfortable situation even with just the genoa out. Over the next three hours I probably only sleep for about an hour. Each time I drop off, an enormous crash wakes me. At one point I am nearly thrown out of bed but manage to put an arm out to save myself. The wind is pretty constant around 30 knots but it’s the sudden gusts at 35 knots which catch you out.
At around 5 am Mike rolls away the genoa and we motor into Hydrographers Passage, starting to wind our way through the Great Barrier Reef. At first the passage isn’t too bad as we are still going with the wind, but when we turn south, all that changes. We are heading straight into winds of 25 to 30 knots and there is a current of 1.5 to 3 knots running against us. This means that with just engine power, we can only manage about 3.5 knots.
We start to see commercial traffic and have to manoeuvre away from a large tanker when we are fiddling with the mainsail, trying to put it up. The problem is that it often gets caught in the sail bag’s lazy jacks and just to be bloody awkward in a very rough sea, that’s what happens today when Mike decides that the wind direction has altered sufficiently to be able to sail a bit. Mike and I nearly come to blows as he’s telling me to pull the sail up and I am saying I can’t because it’s stuck. We both have a different visual on the situation and normally I would defer to Mike (only on sailing matters) but I know I am right this time. Eventually when he comes round to my side of the cockpit he can see the problem from my vantage point and accepts that I was right all along.
I feel sick, tired and totally pissed off. Swallowing more sea sick tablets I lie down on the couch feeling sorry for myself. Mike talks to some of the other boats who are having the same problems as us but the monohulls usually have one big engine instead of the two smaller ones like us and less wind resistance so they can power their way through conditions like these.
Mike is not a happy bunny either. He was looking forward to being in Mackay this evening which would give him Thursday to sort out all the paperwork and official stuff and to fix the toilet pump which broke down on our first day out from Vanuatu. He switches on the pump every day to see if it will empty the holding tank but each day it just seems to pump but nothing comes out. In rough seas like these, we have a constant, malodorous reminder of the problem. Some of the ‘contents’ find their way back into the toilet bowl and have to be hand pumped back into the tank. It’s a shit job – literally – and one that Mike is definitely not looking forward to.
It’s the coolest day for ages, due to the amount of cloud. There is a heavy drizzle and with the amount of salt all over the boat, everything is disgusting to the touch. Instead of everything being either blue or white, it’s grey. Ugh!
I spend most of the afternoon in bed, just lying there listening to music. It’s the most comfortable place to be. Mike rolls away the genoa and we just motor for a while.
Finally at about 5 pm we can turn west again and start to sail properly without the motor, but at the speed we are going, there is no way we can arrive before dark. We discuss our options. If we really push the boat, putting all the sails out, we could probably arrive in the middle of the night but we can’t see the point. We decide to sail just with the main at a reasonable speed and arrive in the morning.
Decision made, I make some dinner, attempting to use up the last of the tomatoes, garlic and salami as a sauce. There’s still some left which I know I will have to throw away but it can’t be helped.
Mike takes the first watch, although it’s nearly 9 pm when I go to bed. It takes me ages to get to sleep because of the noise and I have to get up at midnight to take over. I really can’t wait for this leg of the journey to be over.
Our position is: 20 deg 58 min S, 149 deg 42 min E
Distance so far: 10423 nautical miles
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