FAQ - Do you cook any differently when you're on a passage?

I do the bulk of the cooking aboard … in port or at sea. I'm asked frequently how our menus differ and how my cooking practices change when we're at sea. Quite honestly, the weather and what we have available in the ship's larder dictate what we'll have for meals and how much cooking I'll do. That said, meals are always an occasion when we're at sea. It's usually a time when we're awake and have a chance to keep each other company.  

The first couple of days out are sometimes the roughest. I make a passage soup or meal before leaving port. If I'm not feeling well and up to cooking when it's meal time, there's always something ready to eat. If we're feeling okay, it's a lazy day for the cook.

In general, we eat lots of smaller meals while we're at sea. We usually have a granola bar with our morning cuppas. Breakfast is yogurt (I make it in advance), home made granola and fruit or, if it's cold, sometimes oatmeal. If it's particularly calm, we might have pancakes or French toast, but this is a treat, not a usual. Lunch can be a sandwich (grilled cheese, grilled cheese and tuna) or a wrap or soup.

I try to have lots of fruit aboard so we can munch on apples, pears, nectarines or whatever is available at the local market that will hopefully keep for a longer voyage. Fruits don't require cooking which make them ideal for the cook. Long-lasting veggies include cabbages, potatoes, carrots, butternut squash and onions. They all swing in the hammock until they're used.

Dinner is most always a hot meal. I list the possibilities and David usually decides what he's in the mood for. (I obviously only list the choices that I'm in the mood for, too.) We have about 10 different menu options that are easy to make and easy to clean up after and we tend to alternate through them as we go, always leaving room for some imagination if the spirit moves me. Cottage pie, chili and pasta with homemade sauce all top the list although we tend to avoid “spicy” if the seas are up. Rice is a common side dish.

We usually eat in the cockpit and our meals are almost invariably served in big wooden bowls. It's easier to contain the contents and nothing rolls off the plate when we rock and roll. Plus, wood is a good insulator against heat if you're holding the bowl in your lap.

If David catches a fish, we have fish for the next couple of days until it's gone. We try to have one or two meatless meals during the week … omelettes or Fettucine Alfredo, for instance. Remember, I can chicken and mince (turkey burger), so the meats are all cooked in advance. They keep for years without refrigeration and they're always ready to add to any recipe.

Once I'm feeling okay and the weather's conducive to being in the galley, there's no limit to what I can whip up. Ingredient availability is always an issue, but I've become particularly good at substitutions. It's important to be resourceful when you can't just jump in the car and go to the store for the ingredient you're missing.

David's a bread maker and, if we're on a longer passage, he'll often have bread rising when I get up for my morning watch. He's even tossed a pizza a few times. I make coffee cakes, scones, cupcakes and brownies quite often. Baking on passage is not a problem although on occasion we've had cakes that have quite a list to them.

So … long answer to a short question … once we've got our sea legs, it's business at usual unless the weather's bad. Then, peanut butter and jelly sandwiches are on the menu. Otherwise, it's eat … eat … eat!

FAQ - Did You Make that WindGen Yourself?

Marcie unexpectedly had to go back to the U.S. for a couple of weeks. While she is gone, I will try my hand at writing the majority of our blogs instead of my usual once weekly contribution. I'll do my best to keep them interesting for everyone, but for those of you who could not care less about the technical side of our lifestyle – we apologize. -David When we first starting equipping Nine of Cups for extended cruising, a high priority was adding a wind generator or two. There were several on the market in 2000-2001, and we wanted to make the right choice. Some of them didn't put out much power, and some of them sounded like banshees when the wind picked up. Some looked very aerodynamic and high tech, while some looked... well, like I might have made them myself out of spare parts lying around.

We went to the Annapolis boat show that year, and while we were anchored off the town jetty, we realized there must have been close to a hundred other cruising boats anchored in the vicinity – most of which had windgens. On one particularly windy day, we took the dinghy around the anchorage and listened to each of them. We were going to have to live with our decision for a long time, and we would much prefer having one that didn't keep us and half the anchorage awake at night with a noise not unlike a jet taking off. It wasn't hard to eliminate quite a few of the candidates, and we narrowed the choices down to just a few.

We talked to a few of the owners, looked at specs, visited each of the booths at the boat show, and finally decided on the Fourwinds windgen. It was one of the quietest and had the highest power output of any of the candidates. It also had a very clever centrifugal brake that kept the blades from rotating too fast and self-destructing in high winds. Unfortunately, it wasn't one of the high tech, streamlined models out there, but we could live with its lack of aesthetic appeal.

We talked at length with the owner. By the end of the day, we had taken advantage of his show specials and ordered two windgens and all the associated accessories. These arrived a few days later, and I spent a week or so installing everything.

Now it is 13 years later. The original owner of the company sold it and went cruising, and the business is now either very low profile or out of business entirely, because we can't find them online for parts anymore. Our two windgens are now down to one, as the one on the port side was used for spare parts to keep the starboard one running. The remaining one is doing great – we still get comments about how quiet it is – and it still puts out a steady flow of amps. But all the decals have long since faded out and while I have repainted various parts of it numerous times over the years, it definitely looks its age now.

Over the years, we found them to be quite high maintenance items. The internal magnets have a tendency to come lose, and it is an all day process to tear the windgen down, epoxy the magnets back in place and reassemble everything. The brushes were rather short-lived as well, and had to be replaced about once a year. On the other hand, they have survived quite a bit of abuse. On more than one occasion we've wrapped several hundred feet of fishing line up in them, they've survived more than one kamikaze attack by birds, and have weathered numerous storms and gales. Despite all that we've put them through over all those years, however, they did keep on working and have certainly earned their keep. Overall, I'd have to say we have been quite happy with them.

I suppose it's time to start looking at the latest and greatest in windgen technology and start planning for the day when our remaining Fourwinds gives it up for good. Maybe we can find one that is quiet, has a high output and is beautiful to look at as well. In the meantime, the answer to the very frequently asked question - “Did you make that windgen yourself?” is “Nope – it just LOOKS like I did?!”

FAQ - What's your watch schedule? What do you do on long passages? How do you fill the time?

 

First of all, whenever Nine of Cups is in motion, someone is on watch. One of us is either at the helm, in the cockpit or, in inclement weather, sitting at the nav station watching the radar. Even when the weather's bad and we are in the middle of an empty ocean, we still pop our heads up every 10-15 minutes to take a took around. In bad weather, this is the uncomfortable price you pay for traveling by sailboat. In fine weather, this is a perk. Unless we're on an overnight passage or in heavy shipping traffic, this is not a difficult task. You “watch” and make sure you don't hit anything, nothing hits you and Cups is doing her thing. We're usually both topside enjoying the view anyway.

There are as many different watch schedules as there are sailors out there, it seems. Nothing is “standard”. We've heard of one fellow who can't sleep during the day, so his partner stands watch all night long and sleeps while he's on watch all day. That certainly wouldn't work for us, but it works for them. We tried four hour watches, but found the middle hours interminable. We tried two hour watches, but the off-watch person doesn't get enough sleep. So, over the years, we've settled on three on-three off and this works for us. Rarely do we have an extra crew member aboard, but when we do it makes watches much easier.

So, what does one do on “watch” during the night to pass the time when there's nothing going on? David has his own schedule. The first hour he plans his second hour meal. The second hour, he prepares and eats his meal. The third hour, he cleans up and gets ready for bed. Some folks read; others watch movies or play video games on their laptops. I don't usually eat, read or watch movies during the night … I sing. Oh, yes, I can sing to my heart's content as loudly as I please. I've got a whole repertoire to go through. I don't sing particularly well, but David can't hear me below and the fish don't seem to mind. On beautiful clear nights, when the sky is so full of stars there's not room for even one more, we can sit bedazzled by the wonder of it all. I've been known to talk to the moon at length on night watches. She rarely answers.

Of course, there are a few chores to do as well. We log our position, speed, etc. on the hour. We check radar and AIS regularly. We make sure we're on course or at least the best course for taking advantage of the winds and currents. One thing we do not do is sleep on watch. Many folks do. Obviously, that's how single-handed sailors sail. They set radar and AIS alarms and nod off. We feel more comfortable with one of us awake and alert and actually “watching” during our watch. We used to insist that our ship's cat, Jelly, keep watch, but she was unreliable.

Overnight passages and especially long passages introduce a new element to standing watch. Daylight hours are easy. Visibility is usually good. We're diurnal creatures and function best during the day. Night watches can be tiresome. You're by yourself, while your partner sleeps. Visibility is markedly decreased by the darkness. Radar works well, as does AIS, for identifying land masses and larger boats out there. But sometimes there's a lot of boat traffic, fast-moving ferry boats sneak up on you and you're not sure of their route or you don't know where those fishing boats ahead have laid their nets. The positive thing about adrenaline rushes is that they keep you awake.

The worst passages for us are the 2-3 day variety. We're tired all the time, perhaps seasick and then we arrive exhausted. We haven't seen each other because one of us is always sleeping. Longer passages allow us to get into the groove. Our bodies become accustomed to the odd sleep pattern rather quickly … for us 3-4 days. After that, we sleep soundly during our off-watch hours at night and only nap occasionally during the day. Not sleeping together at night is a bummer, but something to look forward to when we reach port.

So, what's your watch schedule and how do you fill the time?