Day	Position (end of day)	Nautical Miles	Average Knots
May 18 (10hr 52m)	37 24N 075 06W	64	5.9
May 19	38 00N 072 24W	137	5.7
May 20	37 18N 069 27W	159	6.6
May 21	36 39N 065 32W	202	8.4
May 22	36 28N 063 19W	119	5.0
May 23	36 12N 060 47W	127	5.3
May 24	36 06N 058 35W	109	4.5
May 25	36 03N 056 06W	123	5.1
May 26	36 08N 052 21W	183	7.6
May 27	36 14N 048 34W	183	7.6
May 28	36 21N 044 39W	190	7.9
May 29	36 34N 040 55W	182	7.6
May 30	37 11N 037 00W	193	8.0
May 31	37 42N 033 27W	174	7.3
June 1	38 12N 030 06W	163	6.8
June 2 (12hr 55m)	38 32N 028 37W	64	4.9
Norfolk to Horta, Azores		2380	6.6
June 4 (9hr 23m)	39 00N 027 21W	74	7.8
June 5	40 07N 024 22W	158	6.6
June 6	41 36N 021 46W	150	6.3
June 7	42 47N 019 13W	140	5.8
June 8	42 04N 016 18W	144	6.0
June 9	41 57N 013 17W	141	5.9
June 10	42 40N 010 07W	153	6.4
June 11	44 00N 007 17W	150	6.3
June 12	44 38N 004 31W	128	5.3
June 13	45 50N 001 29W	153	6.4
June 14 (4hr 35m)	46 08N 001 10W	27	4.6

Trip Totals

Total Nautical Miles: 3793

Total Time: 26 days, 15 hours, and 36 minutes

Time at anchor (Horta, Azores): 49.7 hours

Average Speed: 6.43 knots

Direct Distance, Norfolk-Horta-La Rochelle: 3530 nm

Average "Velocity Made Good: 5.98 knots

Photos from Babelfish

Photos at Horta

Photos from the Mast Top (Horta)

More Photos from the Azores

More photos from Babelfish

June 10
08:32z, position 41 59N 012 05W
Less than 140 miles from land!

Serge
Samedi 9 juin 2006 ( a l'aube )

Jeudi un peu de vent quasiment de face : nous avancons au pres a faible allure, 5 noeuds. En fin de journee il tombe completement et nous avancons au depuis.

Nous arrivons pres des cotes d'Espagne et nous dirigeons vers le Cap Finistere ( pointe Nord Ouest de Espagne pour ceux qui nous croiraient arrives a Brest ). Nous venons de passer le rail de la Corogne dans la nuit qui un est chenal de navigation obligatoire pour les cargos et autres tankers et nous avons croise une trentaine de bateaux. Apres nous traverserons le Golfe de Gascogne en ligne directe vers La Rochelle... si la meteo nous le permet, bien sur. C'est le gros avantage du voilier, on peut changer d'avis a tout moment sous pretexte de meteo !

Ce matin la brume a reduit la visibilite a 2 a 3 miles. Nous devons redoubler de vigilance bien qu'etant donne la brume et le peu de vent il n'y pas beaucoup de bateaux sur l'eau.

Comme nous sommes pres des cotes le telephone portable fonctionne et j'en profite pour donner et prendre des nouvelles.

Hier en fin d'apres midi, nous avons eu de la compagnie. Un oiseau de la taille d'un moineau s'est pose sur le bateau. Il a du trouve cela bien agreable car il y est reste plusieurs heures, faisant des virees a quelques centaines de metres du bateau pour attraper au vol des insectes. Au debut timide, il se contentait de se tenir a distance sur les cordages puis il est devenu moins farouche et a commence visiter le cockpit, nous permettant de prendre quelques photos amusantes : sur la barre a roue, sur l'epaule ou sur la main qui tient l'appareil photo... Il a fini par s'endormir sur un cordage suspendu sous le moteur de l'annexe au dessus de l'eau. Ce matin, il etait parti.

Hier soir, grande premiere : Bob fait la cuisine, enfin disons, plutot a manger. Il met dans la marmite tout ce qu'il aime et qui se trouve a sa portee: resultat entre la goulash et le cassoulet, avec entre autre des flageolets, de la soupe au champignons, de la moutarde, du beurre, du lait, de fromage... Pas mauvais, meme bon, certains en reprenne. Digestion agressive qui rapelle precisement le parcours de la nourriture dans le corps humain.

Moins de 400 miles pour La Rochelle, nous devrions arriver dans 3 ou 4 jours.

Mike
Mike’s exiting Day 24 update!

We finally got beyond the headwind this morning. Whew!

Unfortunately, there was no wind. None. There was still a mix of swells of all difference sizes and directions, but the surface was glassy. The engine was roaring. Or purring, depending where on the boat one was. We were heading eastward at 6.5 knots.

It was sunny and in the mid-70s all morning. What a nice day. We had some occasional cloud cover in the afternoon, but by evening the sun had returned. We took this opportunity to spend more time outside. It sure makes the boat bigger when we use the outside part too.

We also opted to do some cleaning and maintenance. Amongst the outdoor jobs enjoyed were washing the cockpit, cleaning out the engine rooms, sewing repairs on chafe guards, and touching up some taping jobs. The lifelines were full of towels and clothes.

We caught another 10-pound tuna today. Melinda was elected to land (boat?) this one. She whined and griped a fair bit to start with, but in the end I think she might have enjoyed it. As we were discussing whether or not to clean it, the thing flipped a bit too much and went back to the sea.

Over the protest of Melinda, Kenny, Serge, and I, we decided to change our boat clock to France time yesterday. That’s two hours later than UTC. I was just starting to get used to UTC. Now I’m lost again.

One thing that I have not missed is the hassle of insects. For weeks now, we have not been bothered by ticks, chiggers, flies, crickets, wasps, or any insect for that matter. In fact for weeks, I have not seen, heard, or felt an insect. We have been completely insect-free. Then yesterday Melinda spotted a moth. And today I was sitting on the porch and a housefly was buzzing me. I have no idea where these things came from.

About an hour before sunset (I have no idea what time that might have been), a small bird joined us. It looked like a wren. It landed on the back of the boat and was eating insects, moving from rope to rope. It seemed almost tame. Melinda and Serge spent quite awhile looking at it and taking pictures. I think the best picture was when the bird got on Serge’s hand between his palm and his camera. It also posed on his camera and shoulder for Melinda’s camera.

Bob cooked mush tonight. Honest. We even have a non-digitally-altered photo of his cooking in action. We are not certain of all the contents, but it was better than the Azorean mush. An added plus … no bones. Afterward I overhead him bargaining with Melinda over dishwashing.

As we got closer to land we could smell it. Around 50 miles from land the air seemed a little bit different, but it was hard to tell what the difference was. Eventually the humidity dropped enough that we could feel the dryer air. Before long we were able to smell dirt and leaves. Then came the coastal smells of surf, waves, and fish. We were getting close.

Life on the Babelfish: Hardships

Some of you may be under the impression that we are aboard a floating paradise (those of you that know the crew very well may not be of that opinion). And yes, most of the time it is. However, there are some limits to our bliss. Let me try to paint a picture of some of the adversity we are forced to endure.

To begin with I’ll mention some personal examples. Today, for the second time on this trip, someone got some sticky stuff on my mouse cable. My patience was wearing thin already at the time; Bob had kicked my feet twice under the table within the hour.

Another difficulty I have had to suffer is people making fun of me. These people laugh at my clothes. They laugh when I talk. They laugh at me every single day when I spill tea on my shirt. They still laugh at my fingernail (it’s a little better now, thank you very much). They even laugh at me when I tend the sails! It’s not easy for a sensitive individual like me.

Others on board have hardships, too. There is the issue of temperature control. We don’t have heaters or A/C so temperature control is limited to the door and windows. It’s simply amazing that in the last 24 days not a single person has wanted it the same temperature as I did. It sure makes them uncomfortable!

And there some hardships born by all of us. Bathrooms, showers, and hot water come to mind. Our toilets are saltwater-flush, hand-pump models. It takes 25-30 pumps for the normal, everyday number one. A person can work up a pretty healthy sweat pumping on a number two. It’s doubtful that any of us will take automatic flushing toilets for granted in our future.

We run a watermaker that makes fresh, drinkable water out of saltwater. It’s some sort of alchemy I’m guessing. But anyway, we get about 4 gallons an hour out of it. That supplies us with about 90-100 new gallons each day. Our tanks hold about 200 gallons.

Keep in mind that, as crew, we have all agreed to take “sailor showers.” Those are the ones where you wet down a bit, then do all the soap business, and finish up with a quick rinse. A reasonable “sailor shower” is supposed to take about a gallon of water. Two at the most. Superduper sailors claim to shower in a quart or so. Somehow we have to struggle to keep the freshwater tanks 75% full. I did the math and personally I think that Bob, Serge, Kenny, and Melinda are cheating.

I must admit, there are some other uses of our fresh water. We go through about a gallon each day for tea making. Cleaning up after cleaning a fish probably costs about 20 gallons, not counting the required shower for the fish cleaner. And I’m beginning to wonder if dishwashing has a freshwater cost. Having not yet experienced dishwashing first hand, I can only speculate.

The result of this is a constant awareness that if the watermaker breaks, we are going to experience a huge change in lifestyle aboard the Babelfish (and probably a noticeable change in aroma, too). It’s just like living under the sword of Damocles, this fear of watermaker failure and the severe shower-water rationing that would follow. But we go on.

We have a 10-gallon hot water heater. It gets really hot and gets hot fast when the left engine is running. It heats slow and doesn’t get too hot when the generator is running. When we are lucky enough to be sailing fulltime we run the generator for about an hour a couple of times a day. That means there are long periods when we are either sailing or motoring on the right motor when we have no hot water.

I have found a very unusual phenomenon regarding hot water on the Babelfish. If I happen to take a shower after Bob, Serge, Kenny, or Melinda take their one-gallon “sailor shower,” the remaining hot water in the tank comes up missing. It must be peculiar to this boat.

Hardship is simply a part of life for a Babelfish 2005 Atlantic crosser. It’s not all roses.

Melinda
Fantastic Update Number... 6? (Melinda's)

Okay we're still at sea--which is good. Very good. Today I opened up a map to discuss the navigational route with some of the crew. First off, I located Spain. Found it; good. I noticed two areas encircled by some dotted lines that our route went through: submarine exercise area & firing practice area. I questioned the purpose of these areas to the first mate, Dad. He explained that the submarine exercise area is a place where submarines practice shooting their torpedoes at passing sailboats; the firing practice area is where the navy practices firing at the remaining sailboats. He assured me that our boat was fast enough to outrun these attacks so we're still set to our Eastward destination, in search of gold or something.

Surprisingly, the last book I read provided many answers to my current situation. It described how the Sydney to Hobart yacht race got caught in a hurricane. A statement from one of the wrecked crewmembers said something about never bringing bananas on board because they are "very bad luck." It all made sense now. I might note that the Babelfish crew brought on board more bananas than we knew what to do with. Personally, I will never eat banana bread or banana cake, let alone a banana, for at least 25 years.

Yesterday, millions of little jellyfish covered the water. I concluded that they were "Sailor-by-Wind" jellyfish & most importantly, they didn't sting. So like any normal person, Dad went fishing for one by throwing a bucket out in the water behind the boat, trying to scoop one of the critters up. After several attempts, he succeeded! & we got to have a pet for the day. It was slimy, but lovable. After the lucky catch, I handed Dad a hammer & a coconut to keep him busy for a while. I've learned that it's best to keep certain crewmembers busy to prevent further injuries/broken equipment from occurring.

Other news: we're still floating & getting closer to land, we've seen no pirates, I finished another book, we saw lightning last night, we've seen dolphins, I caught a fish, Mike tried putting icing in my hair, Serge has cooked a lot, I caught a moth, I cooked dinner for the first time, Ken is still doing night watch, we broke the boat radar, I rolled in the jib a few times, & everyone has been taking showers successfully. I think that's about it. Next stop: Ascension Island!

Bob
Cloudy, water temperature: 63F, air temperature -46F, wind is light, the ocean has a few swells. Ken is reading. Serge is thrashing around in the kitchen. Mike and Melinda are sleeping.

We have been motoring since last night. Yesterday we motored and sailed off and on, depending on the wind. We saw some lighting, but there wasn't any strong wind to go along with it.

The boat is on France time now, which is the time zone for most of Western Europe except Britain. It's two hours ahead of UTC. There is one clock a clock on the boat, and I changed it yesterday. I don't think that affected any schedules, though, because most people aren't looking at the clock much.

We Mike caught a tuna yesterday. I caught a jellyfish. There were thousands of small jellyfish floating by in the water, so I took a bucket with a rope, threw it into the water about 87 times, and finally nabbed one. They're bright blue.

Tonight we get to go through the shipping lanes around Spain without radar. I guess we'll have to use our eyes for a change.
 

June 9
11:28z, position 42 01N 015 01W

Mike
Mike’s exiting Day 23 update!

Today was wind off, motor on … then wind on, motor off … then wind off, motor on … wind on, motor off … windoff motoron … windonmotoroff …and so forth. The sails went up and down a lot today.

We were still battling a headwind, when there was wind. That caused us to sail 20-40 degrees away from our destination the majority of the time.

We are getting spoiled. We caught another tuna today. It was only about 10 pounds so we let it go.

We got within 200 miles of Spain late in the day.

Kenny started out the day by cooking a pound cake for breakfast. We all got a taste before Bob polished it off. He sure is skinny for someone that eats so much cake. Some things in life are just not fair.

“The rain in Spain falls mainly on the Plain.” Indeed that song was in my mind off and on today. And yes [Trish] it was sung on board today. I never knew it was a German song. We have no idea who sent the text message in German to us [Trish]. We should be able to see Spain on Saturday. Then we will check out the Spanish weather pattern of song. Unless the weather messes with our plans.

We brought a bottle of champagne for formal and ceremonial toasting when we see the mainland of Europe. I’m not real clear on what counts for seeing the mainland. If it’s night and we see lights on shore do we wake everyone up and celebrate then? Or do we have to wait until morning twilight and have an eye-opener for breakfast? If anyone could get a ruling on this and send us a message it would be appreciated.

[warning, the next few paragraphs may interest even less people than the previous few]

The Babelfish crew regularly refer to Chapman’s Piloting and Seamanship for reference and general boating info. It’s one of the most well-written books I have read on any subject. The first edition was published in 1917. This was during World War I. A guy named Franklin Roosevelt (then Assistant Secretary of the Navy) asked a guy named Charles Chapman (editor of Motor Boating magazine) to write a manual of instruction in small boat seamanship for young men who were joining the navy.

“Chap,” as he was known throughout his life, created the book in three days. It was originally 144 pages in a 5-inch by 7-inch format. While the information for the manual came from various places, most of it was from instructional magazine articles. He also gathered information from government sources and transatlantic steamship deck officer training material.

Our version is 927 pages in an 8.5-inch by 11-inch format. It’s heavy. Noteworthy is that over 9 decades, more than three million copies, four publishers, and two publishing companies, the book has had only two principal authors (Mack Maloney being the other).

There are a number of things that are first-rate in this book. First and probably most important of all, the language is clear and easy-to-read. That’s rare in reference/instructional text. Some of the topics are very complex, yet all I’ve seen are simple to follow. Another thing is the superb organization of the book. Topics as various as anchoring techniques, navigation rules, emergency procedures, chart reading, weather divining, electrical systems and even knot tying are all stuffed into the book in a well-organized manner.

The breadth of information makes it satisfying when we pick it up to find out something. About the only thing we have not found in there was a phrase from another boat book using the adjective “buttock” in it. I’m thinking it might have been slang.

Life on the Babelfish: Entertainment

On the Babelfish 2005 X-Atlantic Voyage we have a plethora of options for entertainment. I have yet to even approach boredom, and I don’t think the others have either. Actually the trip so far seems to have gone by in a flash.

We brought the following to aid in our entertainment: A baritone, scrabble, lots of books, a piano, a guitar, bunches of movies, chess, all kinds of music to listen to, maps, a stationary bicycle, fishing poles, dictionaries, educational videos, dominos (still unopened), playing cards (still unused), four computers, a kitchen with cookbooks, foreign language courses, and multiple cameras.

Other things also randomly occur to aid in our entertainment. For example, today we got to watch Bob raise and lower the mainsail a bunch. A lot of times we can tell when this is happening because the shadows cross the room in unusual patterns. You may be wondering what’s entertaining about that. We never know what will be entertaining about it … so maybe it’s the suspense. Today for instance I got to reel in a fishing line from underneath the hull during the process.

It’s also usually entertaining when Serge, Kenny, Bob or I try to talk to each other. I’m not sure why, but our conversations usually require a lot of the following questions: “what did you say,” “are you daft,” ”were you listening at all,” “did you say something,” “how stupid do you think I am,” “would you speak English,” and occasionally “would you speak French.” We seem to do a little better using osmosis for communication.

We all enjoy the peace and quiet on the boat. The boat is a confined area and even when we are in the same room we are usually doing our own thing. Most of the entertainment is personal entertainment, not group entertainment. We even have headphones for the piano. It’s completely silent to the room when the player has headphones plugged in. The baritone is an exception.

Reading is by far the most popular pastime on this trip. Without exaggerating I would say that most of the time at least one person is reading. And often two or more are reading. Books are good.

Bob
Cloudy, cool, water temperature: 64F, air temperature 65F, wind is light from the east-northeast, the ocean has some swells but the ride is pretty smooth most of the time.

From Baypoint Marina, Norfolk, VA to the harbor at Horta, Azores is 2237 nautical miles, by the most direct, great-circle route. Our average speed was 6.6 knots, and our average "speed made good" was 6.2 knots. Since the Azores, our speed until midnight was 6.3 knots, and our direct-line speed was 5.7 knots. 

There are jellyfish outside. There were lots of Portuguese Men 'O War (the animals, not the boats) around the Azores. We are about 260 miles from the coast of Spain. Tomorrow night we may see the lights of the European mainland!

I haven't read or heard much news on this trip. At the Azores, I took a look at the CNN web site to see if there was anything exciting. Some bombs killed some people in Iraq, and Michael Jackson's picture was on the front page. In other words, no news. (I have a policy against reading anything about Michael Jackson.)

June 8
10:32z, position 42 25N 018 11W
3 weeks since we left Norfolk!

Mike
Mike’s exiting Day 22 update!

It was rough this morning. A lot rough. Not rocking around rough. This was bass-boat--full-speed-over-white-caps rough. The front of the boat rose up and crashed down relentlessly. Sometimes it would bang down really loudly. And sometimes it would mush down not quite softly. It was actually kind of fun, except when we tried to do something. It’s tough to do anything in the constant pounding.

We were sailing as close to the wind (straight into wind) as possible. That’s about 45-55 degrees off of the headwind. It’s hard to tell exactly without our missing wind-o- meter. The waves were kind of tall, but very steep. The swells were averaging about eight feet high. Every six seconds we whammed into another one. Our speed was 7-8 knots. Someone out there could probably tell you what all that means in sailor talk. In lay speak it means “it’s dangblasted rough out today.”

Later in the day the waves settled down. After dark the wind died for an hour, then it came back up stronger.

Serge made some bread this morning. Tonight Kenny and I cooked spaghetti.

Radar status today: broke.

Life on the Babelfish: Neatness and Cleaning

Neatness:
Consider that the Babelfish overall is not a large place for five people to cohabitate. Factor in that we have enough stuff on board for ten people for about two years. It is normally quite crowded on board.

There is a large amount of storage space in numerous holds all over the boat. Most of them are close to full. We have things well organized and everything has its place. Without the organization, it would be a losing battle. With the organization, it’s merely a continuing battle.

It reminds me of playing with tinker toys. It was great until Mom made me to pick them up when I was done. Here, we have to pick up after ourselves after we do just about anything. (Yes, Cathy, Bob CAN actually pick up after himself.)

Cleaning. Blah.
Another continuing battle we have is that of keeping things clean. It’s amazing how dirty the other four people on the boat are. Keep in mind that there’s not any dirt around for hundreds of miles! Somehow it accumulates fast. I think crumbs are the biggest enemy.

Generally things only get to a certain level of grime before someone gets after the cleaning. That certain level of clean varies. I’m still studying but so far it seems directly proportional to the state of the seas. The rougher the ride, the higher level of grime tolerated.

There is one good thing about the limited size of our floating palace. It cleans up fast. I’d say a complete going over takes about 1.25 man hours. That’s about 15 minutes with all five of us cleaning in unison. Of course that’s never happened, but in theory…

Serge
Suis-je sur un cheval sauvage qui se cabre et rue de toutes parts ? A Disneyland dans une des ces attractions dont le but est de transformer en milk-shake le contenu de votre estomac ? Dans un 4x4 sur une piste d’Islande conduite par mon fils Matthieu ? Non je suis bien dans ma couchette, mais c’est tout comme. Ca remue et ca tape dans tous les sens. Aucune logique, comparable au mouvement Braunien des electrons autour de l’atome, on ne sait pas de quel cote va partir le bateau tout ce que l’on peut faire s’est de se tenir a tout ce qui est fixe.

Dans la cabine tout le monde est reveille, (sauf Melinda bien sur, 12 heures de sommeil sinon rien), les traits sont tires, les os douloureux et les humeurs pas tres legeres... Tout le monde a mal dormi (sauf bien sur Kenny qui etait de veille). Heureusement nous sommes amarines, personne n’est malade, mais personne n’est vraiment tres en forme, les mouvements du bateau sont fatiguants. En plus il n’y a pas beaucoup de vent et il est face a nous : nous alternons voile et moteur en les combinant parfois. La houle n’est pas tres importante, environ 2 metres, mais tres courte et croisee : elle s’est formee lors des forts coups de vent qui on eu lieu aux alentours.

Cuisiner releve de l’equilibrisme pour les jambes et du jonglage pour les bras : il faut tout tenir ou caler sinon c’est directement renverse ou par terre, le tout en restant sur ses pieds. Les positions assises ou allongees seront les plus populaires durant cette journee.

J’approfondis mes connaissances sur les secours en mer : quand un helicoptere envoie un filin pour helitreuiller, ne jamais le toucher avant qu’il ne touche l’eau ou le sol afin qu’il se decharge de son electricite statique. Mon Allemand progresse : “ Eine Reise nach Italien ist schon”

En fin de journee cela se calme un peu. Le vent forcit et nous devient favorable. Nous nous reconfortons avec une farandole de pates accomodes en sauce avec les restes de viande de boeuf et de poulet du refrigerateur : delicieux.

Bob
Water temperature: 64F, air temperature 67F, wind is 20-25 knots from the east-northeast, clouds. Waves are bumpy!

Yesterday we caught two tuna. This morning when I was raising the sail a notch, it wouldn't go up very well. One of the ropes came off a pulley last night. I fixed it with the well-oiled hammer.

We headed northeast from the Azores until yesterday, when we gradually turned southeast so we could sail instead of motor. I think we're going to Ascension Island now.

June 7 - Happy Birthday Brian!
11:26z, position 42 26N 020 39W
864 miles to go!

Mike
Mike’s exiting Day 21 update!

We should get to France today, according to my prediction. Unless Bob took a wrong turn.

According to Serge’s GPS, today is the best fishing day of the year. So we started out fishing.

As noted yesterday, we had some radar jamming issues with other boats. Kenny and I noticed another large ship pretty close this morning. We talked to it on the radio. It was a cargo ship with four huge cranes sticking up in the air. The captain told us it was carrying steal coils. They didn’t mention anything about radar jamming so we started messing with our radar. It seemed like we should be able to pick it up for sure.

The seas were pretty calm so I volunteered to hoist Kenny up to look at the radar dome. He swung around on the rope as I raised him and he looked it over. The plastic cover and the wire going into it looked in good condition. There is very little to look at on the outside. If it gets calm enough we will pull the cover off and look inside. He came down and we turned the radar off and on a few times, messed with the settings a lot, and got nothing in return.

So our radar is officially out of order for the time being. That means we have to look around outside more diligently now. That’s convenient while we are catching fish. Shortly after I showered and put on clean clothes I dragged in a 16 pound Albacore tuna. I cleaned it, and then cleaned up after cleaning it. The cleaning up after cleaning the fish takes a lot longer than the fish cleaning itself. First thing this morning I had thrown out our last remaining tuna, not sure how long the stuff lasts. But this gave us a nice supply again.

In the afternoon, Serge brought in a 15-pounder. We didn’t clean it. It was kind of a group decision that 16 pounds was minimum cleaning size (when we have fish in the frig already).

We had motored through most of the previous night. Mid-morning a very nice wind came up and we were doing 7-8 knots. About noon it turned into a steady wind. A headwind! We lowered the sails and drove straight into it for most of the day. We were expecting this headwind, but hoped it would change before we got to it. It looks like the weather forecasters were right on target.


There is a low northwest of us and another one southeast of us. We are in the high between the lows and had a very high barometer reading today. We also got into bigger waves today. I think they are being generated by the lows but don’t really know.

We all enjoyed an afternoon of pancakes. Tonight we ate baked potatoes and fried tuna.

About midnight the wind came up strong. The waves, while not all that big, were short, steep, and rough. We turned 30 degrees right and made good speed. At 2:00a we reefed the mainsail from the first to the third reef (from 75% up to 25% up). The angle and period of the waves made it very rough and uncomfortable. These were smaller waves than we had early in the trip, but they were rougher.

Radar status: still broken.

Well, we didn’t make France today. Maybe I should stick to horoscopes. They’re always right.

Life on the Babelfish: Eating

On the Babelfish we eat with irregularity. We have a healthy stock of food; and a good variety, too. Most of the time we fend for ourselves. On average someone cooks something about once each day. Usually most of us eat what is cooked. Sometimes people skip out on a cooked meal if they just ate a lot or are sleeping.

Among the most common things eaten are apples, chips (usually with salsa), cereal (dry in the little boxes), bread, cheese, precooked tuna fish (Bob mainly), cakes, cookies, crackers, and soup to mention a few.

We brought a lot of cases of Coke, Diet Coke, and bottled water. We drink mainly water. Serge (and occasionally Melinda) drinks coffee occasionally. Most of the time there is iced tea available. I drink a lot of that and Bob has quite a bit, too. We have a lot of milk but I haven’t seen anyone drink it. We cook a lot of things with milk, though.

We brought a bunch of rice and everyone likes it. But we’ve only eaten it once. Our potatoes are sprouting. We have eaten them a few times.

It seems like the most sought after cooked foods are Serge’s bread and yellow cake.

Eating on the Babelfish isn’t a big deal for anyone. It’s just something we do when we’re hungry. Sometimes we do it when we’re not hungry. And we usually cook when we are looking for a change of pace or it sounds fun. Or when we get a hankerin’ for something different.

Bob
Temperature last night: 67F, water temperature: 67F. Our radar seems to have died -- either that, or there are a lot of stealth ships around. It shows normal noise, but no boats. Last night a large ship that may have been a military ship came by, but didn't show on the radar. It changed course about 60 degrees and passed behind us, going pretty fast. That's what is looked like, anyway, but we could only see its lights. Now I guess we'll have to look around with our eyes occasionally.

This morning about sunup there were a bunch of boats (Ken counted 17) with a lot of lights a few miles away. Some of them had bright flashing lights. I think this was a mob of fishing boats, along with some processing ships. This was around 42N 21W.

Mike just caught and cleaned a 16lb albacore tuna. Serge thrashed around with the boat. I watched. Melinda and Ken laid in bed.

We have some wind from the east, which seems to be the direction of La Rochelle. We're going northeast at the moment. Or is that southwest? I have trouble with directions. Are there supposed to be a lot of icebergs near France this time of year?

Melinda
Update Number 5 from la Capitan

We are at sea! And we have many more sea-faring days ahead of us so there should be some interesting updates to come. We successfully left Horta, although it seemed a little tricky getting out of the islands yesterday. It was pretty entertaining to watch Mike, Dad, & Serge scramble all around, trying to get the sails right in the wind which changed constantly because of the islands & pressure system. All of them later concluded that it probably would have been best if only one person had done a single thing instead of three people doing three different things at once.

Dad, Serge, Ken, & I managed to go exploring during one of our days at Horta & found neat stuff! Dad was driving so we ended up going to some interesting sites: some old cannon/gun places, a few cliffs, a caldera, & a grocery store with a lot one-way streets (keep in mind dad's driving). Supposedly there is a lake at the bottom of the caldera but we didn't see anything because of the clouds. Hence, no pictures either. I was cold! However, we did find some picture-worthy places around the island where huge waves broke against the cliffs. Impressive! I'll have you all know that there are Portuguese man-of-war (jellyfish) in the Azores; we've seen quite a few on this trip too.

Anyway, we spent the rest of our exploration day shopping for boat parts, food, laundry, & other miscellaneous items. But that night we went out & socialized! Mike & I went shopping while everyone else headed to the Navy Club. Dad ordered for everyone so we definitely had no idea what we were eating except that it was Portuguese or Brazilian, or maybe both. Everyone had a chunk or two of bone on their plates--I had 4, gross. All in all, we got worn out from so much socializing that we came back to the boat. The next day I woke up around 2:00 p.m. & about ten minutes later we left Horta. Next stop: France if we're lucky!

June 6
18:44z, position 41 14N 022 15W
961 miles to go!

Mike
Mike’s exiting Day 20 update!

Day 20 was an uneventful day. It started out with low wind and medium waves. It ended up almost completely calm seas and low wind.

We did quite a bit of cleaning today. And some repairs.

When Matthew, Kenny, Serge, and I were sailing in between the Bahamas and Hilton Head a couple of months ago, we noticed one morning that the front few feet of the boat was covered in some kind of oily mess. It came off the boat with minor scrubbing. But the bottom of the jib didn’t clean well with water alone.

In Horta we bought some sail cleaner to use on it when a calm day arrived. That calm day was today. We located the sail cleaner, some brushes, a bucket, and a sponge and Bob attacked it. He spent quite awhile working on the sail. Then he continued even longer, using a variety of different cleaners. It didn’t seem to make any difference. But it was kind of fun for us to watch him rubbing and brushing on the sail wearing rubber gloves and a frown.

Today was also a “no fish day.”

The day was Monday. The date was June 6, 2005. We experienced a first on the Babelfish. Melinda cooked! We had spaghetti with chickened red sauce for supper. It was good! Now we just need her to cook more often.

Just as it was getting dark Kenny spotted a whale. It came up a few times before it disappeared in the dusk.

When it got dark we watched a movie. It was a wholesome musical that, after success on Broadway, was made into a movie. It had good, melodic songs that stick in your head, talented singers (including Burt Reynolds), and choruses that moved everyone. A good musical is hard to beat.

Even though the water was calm and it was quiet on board, we connected the external speakers to the computer for the movie. The music sounds a lot better that way. It’s a little bit crowded in the living room with five people crowded around a laptop computer. But for this kind of entertainment everyone stayed until the end.

After “The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas,” we noticed boat lights off to the side. That was odd since we didn’t see anything on radar. We were all out on the porch looking at the lights and trying to figure out how big the boat was, how close the boat was, and why in the world it was not showing up on radar. We spent a lot of time adjusting and resetting the radar, but it never did show up, even when it got close.

Bob guessed that it was a small, wooden boat that was close. Serge spent a lot of time with binoculars. He finally decided that it was a large navy boat (no idea what country) that was using radar jamming. As it got closer we were able to make out the light configuration. According to our documentation it was larger than 50 meters. Bob was still making the “close, wooden boat” claim, but not as strongly.

It turned and went behind us. Serge was eventually able to make out 5 stories on the large ship. He has some knowledge of radar jamming and we all thought that was really neat.

Late in the night, Kenny also noticed about 20 more boats that did not show up on radar. Obviously, radar jamming is common in these waters.

Life on the Babelfish: Maintenance

We have learned some things about sail boats. We learned that there are a lot of moving parts. We knew that moving parts normally last longer with lubrication. We also learned that saltwater is not a particularly good lubricant. But it IS a good cleaner. It removes oils and greases from all kinds of places that we put them. These new revelations might be related to the fact that we seem to have continuing maintenance needs as we sail. It might even be the saltwater that makes the ropes wear out!

Several times each day we look all over the boat for anything that is broken or in the process of breaking. Usually we find some (yes, some is plural) each day. Some are as simple as the rope that keeps the dinghy from swinging around too much chafing and fraying. Some are a little more challenging, like a hole in the middle of the main sail.

Most of the things that we find that we can fix easily and immediately. For instance, the chafing on the anti-dinghy-swinging rope was cured by cutting a 3” piece of fuel tubing, splitting it, and putting it around the part of the rope that was rubbing through. For the main sail hole, we had to wait for calm day to lower the sail and put sail-repair tape on both sides covering the hole.

Now the broken radar (see above) is a different thing. We have found that although the radar thing is rotating, something is broken. I’m not sure if saltwater was that cause, but when I find out I’ll try to pass the word.

We have a lot of spare parts on the boat. We have duplicates of all the pumps on the boat. One duplicate we have is the freshwater pump. Serge and I discovered a lack of water pressure one morning. It appeared that the pump was working fine, but the attached pressure switch seemed faulty. Bob spent well more than an hour working to replace it with the new one. The fittings were different so he spent quite awhile (more than another hour) putting the original one back in. No luck. I took a couple of minutes to clean out the strainer on the end of the faucet and our water pressure was as good as ever. Bob sure was cranky for a long time.

The Babelfish has storage holds all over the place. We have a two-page (two columns per page) inventory of spare parts and tools and their locations on the boat. It includes things like “electrical tool box,” “fishing stuff,” “engine parts and filters tub,” “glue box,” and “autopilot replacement arm.” Most of the time things are where it says they are. Some things, like wood putty for example, are still hiding somewhere on the boat. If anyone remembers seeing the wood putty on the boat, we would appreciate a text message …

Serge
Ce matin Petole. Force 0. Rien dans les voiles. Eole nous boude.
Nous avancons au moteur. La mer est plate.
Pas de poissons. Pas de dauphins. Pas d’oiseaux. Pas de bateaux.

Heureusement il fait beau. Nous en profitons pour bouquiner-lezarder sur le pont, les plus courageux ou desoeuvres bricolent ou nettoient. Nous redigeons longuement notre journal de bord.

Pour le diner Melinda nous mitonne des spaghetti avec une delicieuse sauce au poulet et aux legumes puis nous regardons DVD qui s’intitule “The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas” qui est un classique comique americain des annees 80 avec Burt Reynolds et la chanteuse de country Dolly Parton contrairement a ce que le titre pourrait laisser croire.

Apres le film, vers minuit nous sortons sur le pont admirer le ciel etoile, nous apercevons les lumieres de ce qui nous semble etre un cargo en parfaite route de collision avec notre bateau. Probleme , il n’apparait pas sur le radar. Nous sommes perplexes, est-ce un grand bateau en bois ou polyester sans metal ni deflecteur radar? est-ce un bateau militaire qui brouille son echo radar ? un sous-marin ? des pirates ? Finalement, il change de cap et passe derriere nous, nous apercevons a l’arriere du bateau les lumieres des 4 ou 5 ponts. Nous allons nous coucher dans l’expectative.

Ken
We are back at sea now after a few days in the Azores to repair our boat. The wind did not come with us. There were many neat things to see at Faial. The marketplace had a very large eel among other fish, meats, vegetables, and plants. The land was divided by think bamboo growths instead of fences, although there were some barbed-wire fences around. Cattle grazed the land or there was food being grown on most of the land. Along the sidewalks and concrete walls were paintings people had drawn of their boat, which usually included names of the crew, dates, and a location of where they came from. In the city the streets were narrow and every building was connected on each side to the next one, it was like one long building extending from on block to the next. Most buildings were at least two stories high and some looked about to crumble. The road was made out of bricks mostly. The beach was black because of the volcanic nature of the islands. Portuguese men-of-war, bamboo, oranges, and other miscellaneous objects littered the beach. There is a lake at the top of the island.

Bob
It's D-Day, or at least it was 61 years ago. The significance of this is that it's Brian's birthday tomorrow. He'll be really old!

Today the wind is light, it's sunny, and the ocean is pretty smooth. We're motoring, with the sails up, doing about 5 knots at the moment. But we're doing closer to 6 knots over the ground -- we have a tail current.

Melinda is playing Bach's Invention Number 1 in C-major on the piano. Ken just woke up. Serge and Mike are outside playing. They put the sails out, take them in, put them out, over and over, kind of like skulling in the air. It doesn't help the boat go faster, but it's entertaining to watch.

We're headed north of course in the hopes of avoiding a gale and some strong direct headwinds. We bought fuel in the Azores, though, so we can motor to Oslo or Reyjkavik if we decide we want to. Well, maybe not ALL the way there, but we can get to Spain or Land's End.

The distances and speeds in the table above are based on distance traveled over the ground. It's not point-to-point, and it's not water distance. This is so it will seem like we're sailing at blinding speed.

June 5
18:16z, position 39 46N 024 52W
1109 miles to go!

Mike
Mike’s exiting Day 19 update!

The wind decreased with every mile we put between us and the Azores. The opposite should have been the case. I guess the change from normal weather conditions is to be expected when we have a Te’veran aboard.

Since the wind was dying (and kind of from behind) we put up the spinnaker. Actually Bob put up the spinnaker. After he got it up, and the rest of us tinkered with its trim for what seemed like an hour, our speed went from about six knots to 7-8 knots. The spinnaker is a lot of trouble, but it sure can make a big difference in the right conditions.

It looks like the next strong wind we will get will be headwind. Dad told us that it is not possible to sail into the wind, so maybe we will end up back in the Azores. They are friendly there at least.

Serge cooked green beans and hamburger for supper. It was good with ketchup.

Kenny has been cooking breakfast regularly now. Of course it’s kind of supper for him. He’s very good at eggs of almost any persuasion. And his “brown sugar biscuits” don’t last long.

Melinda has promised to cook something tomorrow. We are all eager for this first occurrence!

Life on the Babelfish: Sleeping

Sleeping is pretty much a non-issue on the Babelfish 2005 Atlantic Crossing. Other than the 2-3 days of rough weather in the beginning we all sleep whenever we are tired. Sometimes even more than that.

The Babelfish has three bedrooms and a skinny bed in the left hall. One bedroom is on the right, one bedroom is in the back left and one bedroom is in the front left. The skinny bed is in the hall between the left bedrooms.

Let me try that again using sailor talk. One stateroom is starboard, one stateroom is aft port and one stateroom is foreword port. The skinny bed is in the hall between the port staterooms. It sure takes a long time to think about how to say things in sailor talk.

Melinda and Bob sleep in the right, Serge sleeps in the back left, and Kenny and I sleep in the front left.

One time on this trip Kenny and I slept at the same time in the same bed. After an hour or so Kenny got up. He said I touched him (I think he was dreaming since I never move in my sleep). Anyway, now we hot-bunk. Patty, that means that we sleep in the same bed but not at the same time. If we want to sleep at the same time one of us, usually it’s him, sleeps on the skinny bed in the hall until the front bedroom bed is empty. Most of the time we just sleep at different times. This works out pretty well since he stays up late.

Since all sleep about anytime we want to it has allowed Melinda to average a phenomenal number of sleeping hours per day. I think she’s stocking up for some really late nights in the future. Probably for studying I would guess.

Serge and Bob and I have been able to keep mostly normal hours.

I think Kenny has outsmarted the rest of us. He gets 3-5 hours of peace and quiet every night.

Or maybe Melinda is the one who has outsmarted the rest of us. She can get up to 20 hours of peace and quiet in bed each day!

Serge
Durant la nuit le vent a forci nous obligeant a reduire la voilure. Dans la matinee, il faiblit et passe au portant ce qui nous permet d'envoyer le spinnaker que nous conserverons jusque tard dans la nuit.

C'est vraiment un dimanche ordinaire, il ne se passe pas grand chose d'exceptionnel. Nous nous rabattons sur la patisserie : je fais un gateau au chocolat et Mike des croissants et des rouleaux a la cannelle. Bob nous en laisse un peu.

Je reprends mes cours d'Allemand et Bob ceux de Français. J'entame un nouveau livre sur les naufrages en mer et Bob en termine un sur les martiens.

Radio France Internationale m'apprends que Nadal vient de gagner Roland Garrros.

La circulation est fluide pour un dimanche soir : pas d'embouteillages !

Bob
Wind is from the SSW, about 10 knots, and we have the spinnaker up. No damage yet. Serge lost a fish. Mike cooked cinnamon rolls. Serge cooked a chocolate cake. Melinda is washing dishes. Ken is sleeping. We hooked a fish today, but it got away.

Dolphins are swimming around the boat occasionally. They got up under the tramploline yesterday.

I almost caught a bird on the fishing pole yesterday. There were several following the boat, thinking that we were fishing. We were, in fact fishing, but the birds were in error by assuming that we were catching fish. One bird made a dive at the lure, and got tangled up in the line. I reeled it in close to the boat, a rough ride for the bird, and cut the line. The bird flew away with a bruised ego.

The island of Sag Jorge has some great cliffs and rocks on the west end. We are now out of sight of land again, for a few days. We'll come close to the northwest corner of Spain, then head on to La Rochelle, France, which is on the west coast of France inside the Bay of Biscay. We may have a headwind in a couple of days, and possibly a gale if we guess wrong.

June 4
22:12z, position 38 55N 027 41W
1251 miles to La Rochelle

Serge
Le vent souffle a 20 nœuds et il pleut. Nous consultons la meteo et nous hesitons entre partir aujourd'hui avec un vent fort et une mer calme ou demain avec moins de vent et une mer formee. Le plus sage est d'attendre.

Vers 10 heures Kenny depose Mike a quai avec l'annexe mais au retour il n'arrive pas a demarrer le moteur et revient a la rame, contre le vent : physique.

A midi, Bob, Melinda et Kenny rejoignent Mike pour se promener dans l'ile. Je reste a bord et j'en profite pour bricoler-ranger-nettoyer et apprecier un peu de solitude.

A 15 heures, tout le monde revient. La meteo s'ameliore, Bob et Mike ont effectue les formalites portuaires et nous levons l'ancre sur le champ. Une demi-heure plus tard nous louvoyons entre les iles des Acores en direction de La Rochelle. Le ciel est encore couvert, il ne pleut pas et la visibilite est suffisante pour apprecier le magnifique paysage des pentes volcaniques qui plongent a pic dans l'ocean.

Des dauphins nagent autour du bateau et une nuee d'oiseaux nous suivent. Ils y en a vraiment beaucoup : c'est inhabituel, et nous y regardons de plus pres. En fait un des oiseaux s'est emmele dans les lignes de peche que nous trainons. Nous les ramenons un peu, et en coupons une. L'oiseau se retabli et s'envole, il ne semble pas blesse. Instantanement tous les oiseaux disparaissent. Ils n'etaient la que pour assister voire nous signaler la position perilleuse de leur congenere.

Le vent vient sur notre arriere, nous en profitons pour mettre les voiles en ciseaux afin de mieux capter le vent et de nous permettre de prendre de jolies photos. Une saute de vent nous rappelle a l'ordre avec un debut d' empannage (passage violent, et non maitrise, de la grand voile d'un bord a l'autre). Nous revenons a une allure moins pittoresque mais plus stable.

La cote de l' ile de Terceira disparait a l'horizon, les prochaines cotes que nous apercevrons devraient etre celles de France dans 1300 miles et une dizaine de jours ou peut etre celle d'Espagne si la meteo nous oblige a modifier notre route.
Mike
Mike’s exiting Day 18 update!

We got underway today after 48 hours in the Azores.

The Azores are part of Portugal, kind of like Hawaii is part of the United States.

We anchored in the harbor of the city of Horta on the island of Faial. The population of Faial is about 15,000. The population of Horta is about 6,500. The high temperature during the days was in the upper sixties. The low temperature during the nights was in the upper sixties. The islands have a lot of cliffs and are rugged. I didn’t see any beaches.

All of the Azoreans that I met were very friendly. They speak Portuguese. Lucky for us, most of them speak pretty good English, too. I’m always amazed that Serge can speak with people in Italian, Spanish, English, and even French. But not Portuguese – get to work Serge. We ate some Azorean food. It was different … not bad, but not very good either.

Driving around the island, I noticed several interesting things. 1.
The landscape is extremely mountainous and hilly. The highway is a series of serpentine curves. 2.
They tie cows (some with calves) next to the highway to eat the grass. They were also tied up and down mountainsides away from the highway. I guess fences must be impossible. There were neatly defined circles of eaten grass along long parts of the highway. 3.
They have windmills. Along one mountain ridge there are three “Dutch-like” windmills. They are built out of large bricks, painted red, and very substantial. They are out of service since there is no fabric on the blades. Along a parallel ridge there are several modern windmills that are turning. 4.
Almost all of the buildings have the same color orange roof. 5.
There were a lot of race cars on the highway. I probably saw a dozen or so. I could tell they were race cars because they were covered with decals, they were loud, the drivers were covered with clothes covered with decals, and some of them passed me really fast around the curving highway. In places where they were stopped there were cars and people gathered around them. The main highway is in good condition except for a section along the north part of the island.

While we were anchored it got windy. Since our wind meter is missing we don’t know how windy, but we guessed maybe in the 30s (knots). Since the wind was blowing at os over part of the island it was less than it would have been otherwise. It also caused the wind to change directions all the time and the boats (all of the 30-40 anchored boats) regularly swung back and forth through 30-40 degrees and up to 60 degrees sometimes.

The swinging, coupled with the strong wind, made us (and probably most others in the harbor) nervous. If one anchor pulls loose, it can cause havoc with a lot of boats. We mostly hoped that our anchor would not move. But we also were scared of the other boats. Most of them were upwind from us.

Friday night was the windiest. I woke up Saturday morning to see a sailboat being towed by another sail boat right outside the bedroom window. That seemed familiar. It was kind of scary to have a boat that close to ours in all the wind. I went out on deck to get a better look. It continued past our boat (upwind). Then it stopped. Then it dropped its anchor. As its anchor chain was let out it moved downwind until it was right next to us. We talked to them and they had no engine. It would have been dangerous for us to try and re-anchor. By then there were three of us on deck getting bumpers out and putting them along the side of our boat. Luckily we were saved when their anchor started dragging and they ended up quite away behind us. I think they were having a bad day.

By noon the wind had eased. At one o’clock we decided to take off. Bob went to turn the rental car in and I went to check out at the marina and with customs. Both were closed for lunch. A 2.5 hour lunch seems to be standard for many Azoreans. By 2:30 we were checked out and headed back to the boat on the dinghy. We closed the hatches, raised the anchor, and drove out of the harbor. I, for one, was glad to get out of the crowded, windy harbor.

Soon we had both sails all the way up. And we went fast. We stayed on the north side of the islands best we could since the wind was from the south. That made the wind lighter, but more importantly made the waves a lot smaller.

As we were leaving we began fishing. There were lots of dolphins and birds were swarming behind the boat. We thought for sure this would mean good fishing. Then Bob caught a bird. Not with the hook, but tangled in the fishing line (which was tangled in the other fishing line). We ended up cutting both lines, the bird got free, and fishing was over for the day. The birds all left as soon as the lures were gone.

We got to see some amazing scenery on the way out of the Azores. Wait for the pictures.

Last night (about 3:30am) I was sleeping like a baby and Kenny decided that we needed to lower the mainsail. We had been discussing the possibility since nightfall and he finally decided it was time. Mainsail reefing is something that we don’t want done alone at night (see safety stuff below) so he rousted me. He sure seemed happy about the rousting part!

We decided we would lower it to the second reef (halfway down) and let the jib out some. We started the motors and turned into the wind. It was dark, and windy, and waves were crashing into the front of the boat (and the constant spray was making my glasses messy). It was pretty darned windy. We did all the stuff, and finally got the front of the sail tied off at the reefing grommet. When we started to tighten the back of the sail, we noticed that we had actually gone to the third reef (25% up). Oh well … we left it and the boat speed worked out well. That was the end of my day 18.

Some questions and answers:
Q. How did we know that the Cooky wasn’t a pirate ship?
A. We didn’t know. But we thought they were not because, as you suspected, no patches were observed on any eyes. We did set up the rope pulling arrangement so that we could let the Cooky go quickly and dependably (in case they tried to take our women or Bisquik – or in case we started to smash into them).

A. Gill is gainfully employed.
Q. Yay! Which McDonald’s is she in with?

Q. What’s the punishment for falling asleep at the helm?
A. If we find someone asleep in the living room (helm), we immediately talk a lot to them. I know it’s severe, but this is a tight ship!

Q. What if the Hokey Pokey IS what it’s all about?
A. We are operating under the assumption that it is.

Q. What are your helm rotations?
A. Autopilot starting at 9:00am continuing until 8:45am. At 8:45am we usually argue and change things for 15 minutes. Then back to Autopilot for another 23 hours and 45 minutes.


Life on the Babelfish: Rules and Safety

Safety:
There are two main safety issues. One, keep the boat floating and upright. And two, keep the people on the boat.

In order to keep the boat from breaking, we need to avoid harmful collisions. To avoid collisions with other boats or land, we use radar and look around too. The radar is setup to start beeping irritatingly when something (usually a boat) gets within a chosen range. Normally we see the boat (on radar usually) before it gets into alarm range. We have a radar display in the living room and on the porch.

Avoiding land has not been a frequent issue with us so far. We have succeeded in not crash landing in Norfolk or the Azores. Now we have to avoid Spain and England so we can attempt a crash-free docking in France.

The other harmful collision we have to avoid is with water. If the waves are too big and we are going too fast it can break of the boat. The boat weighs a lot of tons and doesn’t stop fast.

Keeping the boat upright is also necessary. This boat’s most stable position if floating upside down. The boat’s second most stable position is floating upright. It’s made of floating material so it won’t sink. However, in theory it will go faster with the sails in the air than it will with the sails in the water. As a group, we have decided to accept the validity of this theory and will not attempt any tests of it. On purpose, that is.

About the only way to flip the boat is to “surf” down a wave at high speed and dig the nose into the next wave. It’s called pitch-poling. If the wind and waves get bad enough where we feel there is a risk of this, and we can’t slow down enough by reefing, we will drag a “drogue” behind us to slow us down. A drogue is like a small water parachute. Ideally we will never be in weather that would require the use of this, but we have it on board just in case.

To keep from losing people we wear harnesses which tie us to the boat. If we fall in with a harness we merely get bruised and beaten against the side of the boat, not lost forever.

Rules: 1.
Don’t hit anything with the boat. 2.
When on the deck always wear a harness. 3.
At night when on the deck always wear a self-inflating harness with a light. 4.
Don’t sleep in the living room (or we will talk to you).

Other than that, pretty much anything goes.

Bob
We're sailing again! Our sails are repaired and all the way up. Weather is cloudy, wavy, and the wind is dying a little. It's about 15 knots at the moment. Waves are 10 feet or so. Clouds are dark. From Horta We sailed by the islands of Pico and Sao Jorge , and are headed out to the open sea. Some of the photo files are incomplete. I decided to upload 1280 resolution photos over the cell phone at Horta, and didn't get quite finished.

When we got into Horta on Thursday, a small boat came from the Marina to tow our towee to the dock. They didn't have room for us at the docks, so we anchored for two nights. The second night was pretty windy, but our anchor held.

Horta is a pretty nice place. We rented a car and drove around. There's a big cauldera we drove to, but it was in the clouds and we had about 200-yard visibility up there. There are some nice cliffs along the ocean.

Serge's wife Marie-Laure took charge over Fedex and got them to deliver our new traveler for the mast on time. I think they were planning to ship it by rowboat. Thanks!

We got that, the reefing lines, and a few other things. We didn't buy much food. In fact, I think we could have opened a grocery store with our extra food.

We ordered a new anemometer for the top of the mast, but it was not there. They tried to email me with a question about which model I wanted, along with a photo. However, I limited our boat email accounts to 10K and their emails to me bounced. So we bought a hand-held anemometer. The wind broke 30 knots when we were anchored last night.

The forecast was for 30+ knot wind today and tonight, but it eased up this morning so we took off this afternoon. There are a lot of big waves, but the wind is pretty nice. We're going 7-9 knots in 10-20 knots of wind.

June 3

Serge
Nous sommes au mouillage dans le port de Horta. Le temps est maussade et bien qu'il soit abrite, le vent souffle accompagne d'une legere bruine.

Nous passons la matinee sur le bateau a bricoler et a verifier en detail l'accastillage. Mike me hisse en haut du mat avec la drisse de grand voile. J'effectue consciencieusement mais rapidement les verifications necessaires : c'est haut et ca bouge. Kenny y va a son tour pour contempler la vue et prendre des photos : il semble tres a l'aise, lui.

En debut d'apres-midi, profitant d'une eclaircie, avec Bob, Melinda et Kenny nous allons a quai. Nous finissons les achats necessaires au bricolage et nous passons au bureau de la marina vers 16 heures : miracle le chariot de latte est arrive, sinon nous aurions du attendre lundi. Nous allons pouvoir reparer la grand voile.

Nous louons une voiture afin de visiter l'ile de Faial. C'est une ile volcanique superbe. Melange de roche noire et de verdure avec des pentes tres abruptes. Nous montons au sommet de l'ile voir la caldeira, l'ancien cratere du volcan situe au centre de l'ile. Nous sommes a 1000 metres d'altitude, il fait 11 °C, et la caldeira fait 400 metres de profondeur. Il n'est pas possible d'y descendre car c'est une reserve protegee. De toute facon nous ne voyons rien car depuis l'altitude de 500 metres nous sommes dans les nuages et la visibilite est limitee a quelques centaines de metres.

Nous allons ensuite au a la laverie recuperer les quatre sacs poubelle de linge donne a laver et puis nous effectuons un bref passage au supermarche local pour quelques provisions. Nous retournons au bateau ou Mike a apprecie le plaisir de quelques heures de solitude.

L'installation du chariot de latte sur le mat se revele beaucoup plus facile que nous ne le pensions mais nous prend quand meme plus d'une heure. Ca y est nous allons enfin pouvoir hisser a nouveau toute la grand voile.

Vers 20 heures nous retournons a la marina pour diner au restaurant. Comme il n'y en a pas a proximite, nous nous rabattons sur le club de voile local dote d'un immense ecran qui diffuse un match de football et frequente par les marins du bord de la fregate de la marine portugaise ancree dans le port. Nous avalons rapidement une specialite bresilienne et nous rejoignons le bord juste avant le debut de la seance de karaoke.

June 2
11:01z, position 38 29N 028 47W
Land Ho!

Kenneth Lee
On this trip I have learned a few things, among them how to cook a few speshalties. I cooked my first omelet and first bisquit. They both turned out edible, and even delectable. I also learned that the sun is a very unforgiving source of energy when the light from it comes in direct contact with your skin for an extended period of time. It turned me red. I also have started to grow potatoes in a cup on the boat, just incase we get lost. The Azores, specifically the island of Faial and city of Horta, is really neat. There are lots of old buildings and dwellings, and what appear to be forts and places where cannons used to reside.

Serge
Nous avancons au moteur depuis la veille au soir car le vent est tombe comme c'est generalement le cas a l'approche des Acores.

Vers 7h00, nous sommes à 20 miles du port de Horta dans l'ile de Faial quand nous depassons le voilier francais "Coky" d'une dizaine de metres qui progresse tres lentement avec la grand voile seule. Ils nous saluent d'abord d'un bras, je reponds gentiment, puis des deux bras au dessus de la tete : soit ils sont vraiment tres chaleureux, soit ils ont un probleme ! Je m'approche et ils nous expliquent qu'ils sont en panne de moteur et nous demande de les remorquer jusqu'à Horta. Ce que nous faisons avec le sourire surtout Mike, reveille en plein sommeil. Ils sont partis de Martinique depuis 3 semaines et leur moteur est tombe en panne dans le mauvais temps depuis une plus d'une semaine (donc pas de possibilite de recharger leurs batteries). Comme ils avaient prevenu la marina de Horta de leur probleme un batiment de la marine portugaise vient a notre rencontre ou et nous escorte durant la derniere heure.

Tierra Ferma !!!! Vers 9 h00 nous apercevons la superbe ile volcanique de Faial, melange de falaises volcaniques qui tombent a pic dans la mer et de verdure. Nous debouchons avec enthousiasme la bouteille de Coke que nous avions reserve a cet effet. Et vers 13h00 nous mouillons dans le port qui est plein a craquer de bateaux de plaisance de toutes nationalites. Nous nous rendons en annexe a la capitainerie pour effectuer les formalites d'arrivee et d'immigration ou des fonctionnaires debonnaires nous accueillent dans la bonne humeur.

Mike qui nous attend a l'exterieur rencontre nos amis du voiliers Coky qui lui propose de l'indemniser pour le remorquage ce qu'il decline gentiment. Afin de nous remercier, ils lui offrent deux bouteilles de rhum des Antilles : ils ont reconnu en Mike un fin connaisseur ou a tout le moins un consommateur !

Nous allons ensuite au magasin d'accastillage de l'ile pour prendre livraison de l'anemometre de rechange que nous avons commande mais ils nous indiquent qu'ils leur manquait une precision pour le commander et nous confirment qu'ils peuvent nous le procurer pour le lundi 6 juin, ce qui est un peu long. Nous nous en passerons probablement et nous achetons un anemometre portable qui nous indiquera la force du vent : pour la direction nous nous servirons de la girouette. Nous appelons Fedex pour savoir ou en est la livraison du chariot de latte que nous avons commande en France. Il est arrive a La Rochelle et nous devrions le recevoir… lundi au plus tard ! Decidement tout est fait pour nous retenir dans cette charmante ile.

Nous degustons a la terrasse d'un cafe (et non pas de MacDo a Horta) les seules specialites locales disponibles : hamburger frites pour les uns et sandwich ou quiche pour les autres. Meme pas de Coke : nous nous rabattons sur des Sprite. Le choc culturel est rude pour Bob et Mike !

Nous retournons ensuite au bateau. Petit souci de moteur avec l'annexe a l'aller : impossible de revenir au point mort. Ce qui nous avait valu traverser le port a vive allure sous le regard reprobateur de tous en calant le moteur pour s'arreter une fois arrives a destination : discretion assuree.

Bob plonge sous le bateau pour retirer les bouts de cordages qui se sont enroules dans les helices : et il y en a bonne quantite. Mike sort sur le pont le contenu integral de sa cabine afin de le faire secher. Kenny et Melinda emportent a la laverie automatique l'equivalent de 400 litres de sacs poubelles de linge sale. Nous passons les reste de la soiree a bricoler sur le bateau. Un avis de coup de vent (30 nœuds) est annonce pour Samedi, nous partirons probablement Dimanche.

Mike
Mike’s exiting Day 14 and 16 (between Bob and I it was my important and exciting update for day 14 was missing for two days which is naturally Bob’s fault) update!

Some day 14 stuff:
So there we were, Kenny, Serge, Bob, and myself, sitting around the breakfast table debating the possible effects of a sail change to boat performance. It was a brisk conversation. There were lots of people talking at the same time (everyone sure of their differing opinion), some pontificating, and quite a bit of babbling.

It was windy and wavy, with sea water spraying and washing across the decks. The day was cloudy and grey. It was misting occasionally. We were sailing about six knots with the mainsail at the second reef (about halfway up) and the jib only about 15 percent out. Going much faster than six knots was too rough. The autopilot was giving the boat constant left rudder in this configuration. We had arrived in this configuration by reefing the jib multiple times to reduce the boat speed as the wind increased.

It’s easy to reef the jib. Just let out one rope and pull in another. It can take less than a minute for minor changes, and it’s done from the porch. There’s no need for a harness.

To reef the mainsail we have to start the engines, turn into the wind (to take the pressure off the sail), let out the main sheets (mainsail tighteners) put on a harness, go out on the deck, remove the reefing line from the winch, lower the sail, remove the reefing strap, lower (or raise) the sail to the desired location, climb up on the roof to put the lower, loose part of the sail in the sail bag, fight to hook the reefing strap through the grommet and onto the clip, raise and tighten the mainsail, tighten the new reefing line, stow all the loose ropes (during this time some procedures may need repeated), then return to the cockpit, tighten the main sheets, turn back on course, and adjust the sail to the wind. This can take from 5-10 minutes for one person. It takes from 5-20 minutes for two or more of us. Today this procedure meant getting pretty much soaked with sea water.

So there we were, Kenny, Serge, Bob, and myself, sitting around the breakfast table in silence. We don’t talk all that much. The sail-setting conversation, which had lasted longer than most – probably almost two minutes, was over. I had used my best efforts to persuade someone to lower the main and let out the jib to see the effects. I had failed.

The debate was over the unbalanced nature of our sails and how it might or might not be affecting the autopilot rudder deflection. We all had reasonable and thoughtful guesses as to what effect the wind, waves, and sails were having on everything. And we had the same guesses as to what a change might do. But none of us actually knew. There was no compelling reason to change anything; the boat was sailing just fine.

Then I got up and went to the bathroom. While in the bathroom, I had a deep thought. I thought: how many times in the future I would wonder how changes might have affected things. Yes … that’s a deep thought for me. I then proceeded to put on some dirty clothes and make sail changes.

Donning a harness, I started the engines etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. etc. and voila, less than 10 minutes later, the mainsail was on it’s third reef (about 25 percent up). I turned back on course, let the jib out to about 30 percent, and roughly trimmed it. Since it was messy outside I went ahead and started the water maker and put both fishing poles out.

To finish up, I cleaned up all the loose ropes around the cockpit and began to make final trim adjustments to the jib. With the winch handle in my left hand I started to step up to the step below the winches. The boat lurched as a wave smashed into the side. Almost falling down into the cockpit, I reached and smacked the winch handle against the winch with my left hand. I pulled myself up, surely preventing a nagging bruise. The winch handle absorbed my weight and momentum as I pulled and righted myself. The only problem was … precisely and squarely between the winch handle and the winch was the center of the fingernail of my left middle finger.

At once my entire existence was focused around one tiny solitary fingertip. There was no real damage, just a ridiculous amount of internal screaming coming from that spot. I tried to carry on as if nothing had happened. My brain would not allow it. All I could think about was that stupid finger. I just wanted to finish the jib trim and crawl away to a room alone for awhile. Yes, alone for maybe quite awhile.

About this time, Serge came out to see if I needed any help. “No,” I said trying to sound normal, but I’m sure coming out emphatically. He noticed the blood was dripping from the end of the fingernail. Probably he noticed an ashen face trying to smile, too. In mere seconds, Kenny and Bob joined Serge erupting in enormous amounts of laughter. The taunting questions were endless. The laughter and jeering continued. It’s not often the three of them get whipped into that kind of frenzy.

It took everything I had to ignore these buffoons and finish winching the jib in. I proceeded to take my second shower of the day, ate a lot of chili with a lot of cheese for breakfast, and drank a coke. Within 30 minutes all was well. The only thing left as a reminder was a minor throb and a black fingernail with a scab on the end.

Sometime it would be nice to have someone explain the part of human nature that makes these people gleeful in my misfortune. Is it related to the part of human nature that caused me to spend this much time typing up a recollection of it?

[half hour later]
So there we were, Kenny, Serge, Bob, and myself, sitting around the breakfast table in silence. The autopilot had the rudders mostly centered, the boat speed was up to 6.5-7 knots and the ride was slightly improved. The sun peeked out occasionally and the rain and mist stopped. The weather was getting better.

The weather kept gradually improving. By late in the afternoon the weather had turned very nice. It was sunny, the waves were less bouncy, and the temperature was in the mid-70s. One thing noticeably different was dry air. The low humidity was refreshing. It also helped dry out some damp spots in the boat.

Serge and Bob made the mistake of raising the mainsail to the second reef. The mistake they made was doing it together. It took almost 20