Crossing the Indian Ocean - Cocos to Rodrigues Days 4-6

days 4-6

Day 4 Miles run last 24 hours: 158

Miles to go: 1539

A very boisterous night led into an even more boisterous day, though everything seems easier to handle in the daytime. Squalls and heavy rains alternated with calm during the night. Today, bright sunshine. The winds have been consistently in the high 20s- mid 30s with gusts to 40 knots and the ride quite uncomfortable. There is no comfortable spot for the on-watch person below when the weather is nasty and we're on a port tack. These are the times a pilot house would be nice.

The seas are confused and a bit angry, whipped into a foamy 15'+ (4-5m) frenzy ...every third or fourth one that crashes by is guaranteed to douse the cockpit crew. I lick my lips and taste the salt. My sunglasses are encrusted with white salt spray. The scattered-cloud, blue sky is deceptive because just looking at it, you'd expect a fine day. The high altitude mare's tails are telling the story of a front coming through. Our weather forecasts underestimated the winds. It's like being on the carnival ride from hell ...but you can't get off ... Or perhaps it's more like those mechanical bulls at Western bars? We've triple-reefed the main with a reefed staysail and a handkerchief of a jib out and we're still moving along at 7-8 knots. Not much weather helm, but not a comfy ride either. At least we're making good distance and speed...some of it in the right direction.

The stove gimbal broke this morning just as we were heating water for our morning cuppas. Bummer! It looks as if the bolt holding the gimbal came loose, but there's no fixing it in these seas. We'll wait for some calm or perhaps heave-to later, so David can evaluate and hopefully repair it. In the meantime, it's secured.

Moving anywhere on deck or below is a challenge. It's hard to maintain your balance. I put off going to the head as long as possible. Note to self ...drink  less tea! Cooking is always an interesting exercise in conditions like this, especially with the broken gimbal. Sandwiches and leftover cole slaw are the menu offerings today. We'll survive. Winds forecast to continue like this through the night and lessening tomorrow. We can only hope.

Deck count: 0 on deck, however one fairly large flying fish in the reefed mainsail

Day 5 Miles run last 24 hours:  163

Miles to go:  1379

As advertised, the winds calmed to the low 20s during the night. The seas became more sailor-friendly...no wave crests blowing into our faces, no breakers crashing into the cockpit. The ride is more comfortable and the crew is predictably happier. The stove gimbal still needs attention and there are innumerable salt-water-sodden towels, t- shirts, shorts and sweatshirts in various heaps in the saloon, but the day dawned blue-sky lovely with no ominous clouds on the horizon and we're 163 miles closer to Rodrigues.

Mail call was good today with emails from my sister, our niece (and blog master), Gentry, our son, Brad, and Miks, a faithful high school chum who's the absolute best at keeping in touch while we're at sea. David usually sends and picks up mail during the night (best propagation time for our current location) and we read them together when he gets up from his off-watch at 0900. Funny, what an important ritual this becomes when we're at sea. I imagine Joshua Slocum would not have relied as much on his imaginary friend, the pilot of the Pinta, if he'd had SailMail!

Later in the day, David did, indeed, manage to repair the gimbal on the stove which makes my work in the galley a tad easier. The process involved cutting off a bolt to shorten it, lifting the stove (80 lbs /35 kg) out of its enclosure, disassembling the side that needed the bolt replaced, replacing the bolt, reassembly, lifting the stove back up and aligning the bolts to fit back into the gimbal slots. All while we were rocking and rolling. Nothing's ever easy on a boat.

Deck count: 4 flying fish

Day 6 Miles run last 24 hours: 139             

Miles to go: 1240

As we dip back south to the higher latitudes, it's cooler and less humid. In the Cocos we were 12 degrees south of the equator. Rodrigues is almost 20 degrees south...still in the tropics, but slightly lower temps and drier. I haven't given up my bare feet, shorts and t-shirt, but I do rely on a sweatshirt and a light blanket to be comfy for night watches.

Being in shorts and t-shirts kind of highlights cuts and bruises on our bodies. Part of this morning's conversation revolved around comparing various black and blue marks and healing cuts. We rarely remember how they were sustained, but we both look banged-up after a long passage. I had many more bruises...David won in the cuts category. Who says conversations aboard Nine of Cups aren't lively and engaging?

The winds and seas calmed significantly during the night ... 10-12 knot winds, 3-5' seas (1-2m). We're moving along in the 5s now which seems like a snail's pace, but we still managed 139 miles to the good for our last 24-hour period, so we're on schedule to arrive in another 9 days ...maybe less. Depends what Neptune has in store for us for the next week.

Deck count:  3 flying fish Note: Flying fish are edible. Some folks like them. Others do not. David pan-fried a bunch one time to try. We are in "others do not" category.

Continue with us on our Indian Ocean crossing.

Piracy Concerns in the Indian Ocean?

“Do you worry about pirates?” is probably one of the most frequently asked questions we hear. People are even more conscious of the pirate situation in light of the film Captain Phillips. The Indian Ocean, especially off the coast of Somalia and areas close to the Red Sea, are indeed hotspots for piracy. We were certainly aware of the four Americans aboard the yacht Quest who were murdered by pirates in February 2011. For sure, we take the matter seriously.  

For the record, we've never experienced anything close to piracy in the last 14 years. We know of several people who have been boarded and robbed and in some cases, beaten or even killed. The coasts of Venezuela and Colombia in the Carib are known areas to avoid and we did. We know of cruising friends who were boarded while anchored for the night in a usually safe Ecuadorian harbor. Other friends were boarded and held at knife point in a remote anchorage in Papua New Guinea. Piracy is real and it's frightening.

We do our best to avoid areas known for piracy, but some of the incidents I've mentioned were not in areas considered high risk. I guess like any other crime, it can be random and not specific to a certain area. In many places, yachties are considered to be rich and have lots of “stuff” that seems appealing to those who have little. We're prime targets for the have-nots.

So … back to the question at hand. Are we nervous about pirates while crossing the Indian Ocean. The answer: We're always wary, but not worried. Mostly because we'll be considerably south from the areas in which piracy attacks have been recorded. That's not to say we couldn't have problems in other areas, but the chances are less likely. More and more people are choosing to round the Cape of Good Hope rather than risk life and ship to piracy going through the Red Sea. Some folks opt to ship their yachts through the Red Sea on large yacht-carrying transport ships at high cost ($40K+) and meet them in the Med. Other cruisers have formed large flotillas that sail in close company and share the cost of heavily armed guards.

As for us, our plan has always been to head to South Africa … to avoid pirates, yes, and, of course, to complete our circumnavigation when we arrive in Cape Town.

Crossing the Indian Ocean - Cocos to Rodrigues

days 1-3 cocos to rodrigues map

Day 1Miles to go: 1994

With a mild 3-day forecast of 15-knot winds and fair weather, we reluctantly headed out of our gorgeous Cocos lagoon and back into the wilds of the Indian Ocean. We were all prepared with our custom, shortened whisker pole ready and rigged, but within an hour, the wind had switched more southerly and we were main, Yankee and staysail all full tooling along in the mid-6's, the southeast swell keeping the ride a bit rocky.

The low-lying Cocos were out of sight within 10 miles and we once again sang our usual  "On the Road Again" classic as we continued our western passage. Our hard fought northerly progress of a couple of weeks ago will be slowly relinquished as we head WSW (255M) on a route that will eventually lead us to the small island of Rodrigues, formerly French-owned and now a dependency of Mauritius.

The sun set about 6pm, making for a long night. The night watches, however, weren't very stressful. No traffic, the wind remained steady, and the night was mild and clear. A good first day at sea.

Day 2Miles run last 24 hours:  139; Miles to go:  1838

A pair of boobies followed us for miles today, alternately fishing and eyeing Cups for a good landing spot. They didn't appear successful at either venture and near dusk, they disappeared. Sometime during David's first watch, a booby did manage to land on the solar panels and spent the night resting, preening and pooping. We have a strict No Hitchhikers -No Stowaway policy on Nine of Cups, but it wasn't posted and evidently this fellow thought it was perfectly fine and fair to hang out for awhile, rest and empty his bowels frequently.

We took some pix when he first landed, just in case he headed off without a farewell. He was still there, however, at my 6am watch. I moved closer and closer with the camera, snapping away as I went. When I was inches away, he gave me an odd look, but expressed neither fear nor interest in my presence. I noted two flying fish on deck and I guess if I was a good host, I should have offered them to our guest, but I didn't, thinking of the additional excrement I'd be cleaning up.

Boobies, in case you're unfamiliar with them, are about the size of a medium duck, with a long, thick, pointed beak and a wonderfully streamlined body that makes them expert divers. They dive from extreme heights and hit the water at breakneck speed like a bullet. They were named "bobos" (stupid) by Spanish sailors because they were so easy to catch and were regularly fooled by lures on fishing lines. Our fellow is brown-backed with a white belly and the reddest pair of webbed feet you've ever seen ... hence a red-footed booby. We have a great photo on the Galapagos page of our website, if you'd like to see them diving.

My entertainment for the day was watching David try to shoo our hitchhiker away. The booby would take off with significant, up-close prodding and then be back before David could return to the cockpit. He'd be on return approach, in fact, before David could turn around ..Ready to land and launch a new load of poop. David dug out his old slingshot and armed with popcorn kernels, fired round after round with no effect, despite the fact he had hit his target. After several fruitless attempts to discourage our unwanted rider, ( I counted no less than 15, but lost count as I nearly peed my pants watching), David finally grabbed a line and swatted him which evidently delivered the right message to his tiny booby brain. He left in a huff and wasn't seen again.

Deck count for the day: 2 flying fish - 1 booby

Day 3Miles run last 24 hours: 141; Miles to go: 1697

Squalls ...squalls....squalls! Our beautiful weather changed abruptly to squall after squall after squall. The gentle, warm 15 knot breezes morphed into 35 knot gusts and torrential downpours that soaked and saturated everything on deck and anything that didn't make it below on time. They came on suddenly during the night and whoosh ...no warning, the skies opened up and dumped buckets...the wind blew through like a night train making up time and the seas were as confused as we were. As suddenly and as ferociously as it all began, all would calm down, only to begin again in another 15-20 minutes.

Neither of the crew relaxed. No off-watch sleeping was possible, leaving an exhausted pair by morning. As I stumbled into the sea berth at 0300, I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. David gave me an extra hour's sleep and I woke rested, but lame and brain-fogged. David assured me the squalls had continued while I slept, but my weary body was oblivious to it all. He wasted no time hitting the sack when I awoke and, like me earlier, was asleep in seconds.

Deck count:  3 flying fish

Continue with us on our Indian Ocean crossing