Hilton Head Island: THE OPEN BOAT: ACROSS THE PACIFIC

 

In my ongoing effort to read all the works of two great authors, I have just started DOCTOR PASCAL, the twentieth and final novel in Emile Zola's Rougon/Marquart cycle, and I recently finished Webb Chiles's THE OPEN BOAT:  ACROSS THE PACIFIC.  I have the pleasure of knowing that I still have four more of his books ahead of me and even possibly the passage log of his sixth circumnavigation as well.

The voyage in CHIDIOCK TICHBORNE was the most audacious I ever undertook.  As I have written, after my first circumnavigation I had sailed almost 40,000 miles in less than two years, including my first two failed attempts at Cape Horn, and that was enough.  For a while.  But after a year I began to consider another voyage, one that would be qualitatively different, and decided to attempt to circumnavigate in an 18' Drascombe Lugger, which I named CHIDIOCK TICHBORNE after an Elizabethan poet.  The top photo was taken from a bridge in San Diego.  The second in the lagoon at Papeete, Tahiti.

I took delivery of CHIDIOCK TICHBORNE in June of 1978, sailed her some around San Diego, slept on board a few nights, determined that I could use sheet to tiller steering on her, and five months later set out for the Marquesas Islands, 3,000 miles distant.

In rereading THE OPEN BOAT for the first time in many years I find that I still sometimes misused 'treacherous' and 'adventure'.  Ah, well.  I learned.  And the book is in some ways a time capsule, particularly about money and prices.  Costs that I found outrageous then are almost unbelievably low today.  That is to be expected after almost fifty years.  I write that then the average cruising couple spent about $5,000 a year, half on boat maintenance.

I also say that an Englishman I came across in Tahiti, Tom Blackwell, was at the time one of only four men to have made two solo circumnavigations.  I do not know that is fact, but it is what I was told in 1979. 

I remember vividly the more dramatic experiences of that voyage:  heaving to one Friday night only six miles from the pass into Papeete, Tahiti harbor, waiting to enter the next morning, but being blown for four days around the island by a 55 knot gale; and of course CT pitchpoling a year later between Fiji and what is now Vanuatu and being adrift for two weeks in a 9' inflatable.  But I had forgotten much else.  Fifty years will do that too.  So there are some advantages to have written about your life.

Almost fifty years--forty-six now to be exact--will effect many changes.  Here is what I looked like in a photo taken at Papeete by another sailor whose name I do not remember in January 1979.

 And here is a photo taken by my friend, Steve Earley, on our screened porch in February 2024.

And here is the beginning of the book, a passage about two ways of facing death, and those words that Amazon indicates multiple readers underlined.

Hilton Head Island{. by the window

There are many fine places to sit in our condo, but I spend more time in a chair by our bedroom window than at any other.  I am there now just before sunset.  As I have mentioned before this is the first place I have ever lived where I can observe at sunset through the year how far the sun moves north and south.  It is near its farthest north now with the solstice in a few weeks.  Here that puts it at the right hand edge of the window.  Six months from now it will be near the left.

Forgive me for repeating that I love the beauty here.  The to me previously unknown and unexpected beauty of the marsh.  The birds, the trees, the Spanish moss, the spartina, the acrobatic squirrels, the changing light on Skull Creek.

We are supposed to be having air pollution from far distances.  Smoke from fires in Canada.  Dust from the Sahara.  Rain seems to have washed them from the sky.

I have a small glass of Laphroaig at hand.  A friend asked me why Laphroaig.  I do not have an answer.  Perhaps because it is to me the taste and smell of the sea.  For whatever reason it is my favorite liquid and I take a sip.

I read yesterday an article about Yoshua Bengio, who is described as “the godfather of AI”.  In the article is expressed the “The ability for systems to assist in building ‘extremely dangerous bioweapons”…as soon as next year.

https://arstechnica.com/ai/2025/06/godfather-of-ai-calls-out-latest-models-for-lying-to-users/

In ‘Last Born’ I suggested perhaps the most humane way of ridding the planet of the cancer our species has become.  I doubt that AI will be so kind.

https://www.inthepresentsea.com/the_actual_site/lastborn.html

I recently read Barbara Tuchman’s A DISTANT MIRROR about the Fourteenth Century which with the Hundred Years’ War, the Black Death, and the schism and corruption in the Church—at that time there was just one in Europe—she found a mirror of the disaster of the first half of the Twentieth Century.

As I have observed here before there are generations born on the wrong side of history.  My grandmother’s was one.  Born in the 1890s the young men were of age to be slaughtered in what we now call World War 1–far more in European countries than those born in the United States; then they endured the Great Depression; and if the young men born around the turn of the century lived long enough to have sons of their own, those sons were of age to be slaughtered in what we call World War 2, which as you may know I am certain in time both wars will be seen by historians to be one war, separated by a twenty-one year cease fire by countries bleed dry until a new generation could become old enough to be destroyed.

I sense that those now young are on the wrong side of history.

I’m old.  I found my way between the cracks.  I’ve had a life.  

I hope I am wrong and that the young do too.

Hilton Head Island: why; two endings; two poems

With occasional exceptions I avoid answering:  Why do you sail?  I have found that people either understand instinctively or they never will.  And beyond that it appears to me that as a species we have evolved by being better at answering 'how' than 'why'.  Yet in rereading STORM PASSAGE I came across the following which is as good an answer to why I have sailed and lived as I have as any.

Also from STORM PASSAGE the ending of Part 1 written just after I returned to San Diego in March 1975 after my first two attempts at Cape Horn failed because of rigging damage.

And the end of Part 2 when I had successfully become the first American to round Cape Horn alone and had completed a two stop circumnavigation in world record time.

I do not delude myself that I have conquered the sea; it is enough to have faced it.  And I am more proud that I continued to struggle against defeat than of my ultimate victory.  To struggle was in my control: victory in that of chance.

(You know that now I would not have claimed 'victory'.)

"Resurgam", I said, and now I must learn the Latin for 'I have risen.'  "Time and chance and Cape Horn:  I am still coming at you," I said, and I kept coming until Cape Horn was mine; and for one brief moment in my life, time and chance subdued.  "Victory or death," I said, and though death often seemed the more likely, finally it is victory.  "Wind and waves of torment cease," and for a while they have.  "Sail to the limit," and I sailed beyond.  "An ordeal of grandeur," I said, and it was.  It truly was,

In Auckland, Suzanne I attended an exhibit of Chinese art.  One of the objects was a figure holding aloft thirty-two concentric spheres, only the outer half dozen of which were visible, all carved from a single piece of ivory.  The satisfaction of the artist upon completing carving all thirty-two spheres and knowing that each--even the innermost which would never be seen--was perfect, is the same as that of a man who completes a solo circumnavigation, who fulfills any dream, even though no one else ever knows.

I smile to myself as EGREGIOUS sails slowly across the dusky harbor, and beyond the sea-etched face of the man, a small boy grins because he has made his dream come true.

        Egregious man, boat, voyage, life.

        The fool smiles and sails on.

In looking for something else I found screenshots of these two poems.  I  don't recall posting them before, but may have.  If so they are worth reading again.  

I do not know who wrote the second.

Hilton Head Island: videos—mine and others; the battery

Yesterday I uploaded nine For the Love of the Thing videos.  If interested you will find them here:

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCdl7dZLxNI4VIB_eOiaNgiQ/videos

I am on the email list of the Netherlands Bach Society.  Here are links to three short videos they recently sent me of young performers.  My admiration for their talent, dedication and discipline is immense.

https://c.spotler.com/ct/m14/k1/kDdEu7mzKXmYw3oVooGj9CJZvzuGhPkmCW9ca_aO-3ZcX795Nq5SV8EJJ20ygW7ohFAOvn-AfVhEeuobmGNfQZE1brD20z1sV3eV792Op0RYt1mhUVxcrh5Ls4blFXXz/NnY2zI8dtZErrV4

https://c.spotler.com/ct/m14/k1/m171SljO-E7QIXnSmvjwRacaztZL9SEziAHY9xShygX46z8zejnILoPgWjrrFFlPxgzNvl-eDJkexpI5wq86JWr12ivxVf0iNbEkP-qqkP82SwzGD18_LfsdaELkS0ov/UJiZW7RX8cNIN9X

https://c.spotler.com/ct/m14/k1/nLOIUo1vX8M-UP6ScKpBKE9h56TpKa5yB6TqJ9-dbVpUAPIf86PgXWkJWExDIFWjeldlCNiNnPAahXNn9lC97cRlaaX2DHHs-NUZiKPjCwZiyoHm0u_leTLxMcMXIGtx/fpx2hg3iX6C2vsL

Here are the facts about the errant outboard battery as accurately as I know them.

When I turned the Evo on before leaving the dock the charge was about 95%.

When I turned the Evo off and started sailing the charge was 82%.

After an afternoon of keeping the outboard prop in the water while sailing the charge was 98%, an increase I attributed to what ePropulsion calls hydrocharging.  I then turned the outboard off and subsequently tilted it out of the water.

When upon our return eight days later I tilted the outboard back into the water and turned it on, the charge was again 82%.  I know the batteries discharge over time but was surprised that it was this low.

Less than an hour later and after having the motor on at low speed for about one mile, the battery was at 0%.

After fitting the second battery and reaching GANNET’s slip, I took the discharged battery up to the condo and charged it.  This took almost twenty-four hours indicating that it was in fact totally discharged.

I then took it back to GANNET and fit it to the outboard.  The charge showed 99%.  I started the motor and let it run at low speed in forward for an hour.  The battery was at 94%.  I returned the next morning and again ran the motor for an hour at somewhat higher rpms.  At the end of that time the charge was 85%.

I took the motor off the transom and stowed it away in GANNET’s stern.

I do not have an explanation.  

I will observe in time how much the battery discharges and test it further and probably use it as the backup, not the primary.

Hilton Head Island: for the love of the thing itself sail log

 May 15, 2025  Thursday

1000 Left slip just after high tide.  Wind 9 knots SW.

Had jib up a few hundred yards from marina.  Set main after we made the turn at the second green buoy.  Before that I heard an engine coming up behind me and assumed it was just another power boat.  Not until the bow came into view beside me to port did I realize it was a tug pushing a barge.  I immediately moved as far over as I could.

1200

32º 14’ N

080º 39’ W

day’s run 7 miles

SOG 4.8  COG 145º

barometer 1014

wind 18 S

close hauled

seas 3’

1430

Once in Port Royal Sound we were able to gybe and be on a reach for a couple miles.  Near the mouth of the sound the wind swung south and we were close hauled heeled too far over and pounding uncomfortably into chop.  I partially furled the jib, then furled it deeper.  We continued pounding but less severely.  

We were on a course leaving the main channel and heading for shoals.  I did not want to tack unless absolutely necessary and found an area on the chart where we should be able to fall off and cross the shoals on a close reach.  We did with me hand steering prepared to gybe in an instant.  Saw a minimum depth of 8.8’.  GANNET draws 4’1”.  Once back in 20’ of water I eased us off to a beam reach on which we continue making 6.5-7 knots.

I have left the Evo in the water intending to give its hydrogeneration a full test.  Leaving the motor on in neutral, the spinning prop should start charging the battery when we are sailing at more than 4 knots and the battery has less than 90% charge.  These conditions are being met.  So far the battery charge has increased to 83%.

1630  We were sailing well, too well and being tossed around more than I want so I just lowered the main.  With no destination it is my intention to sail with some measure of comfort, any of which is difficult to obtain on a Moore 24.  Additionally my right shoulder is aching.  I injured it during the Not To Culebra sail earlier this year.  Not seriously, but still not normal.  We are making a less active 5.5 to 6 knots under partially furled jib on a beam reach in 18 knots of wind

I am finding that heading east is a less cluttered direction to get offshore.  No Navy towers and I did not even see any anchored ships.  There are on the chart two buoys ahead marking a fish haven.  I am not sure they are still there.  I have not seen them on previous sail in this vicinity.

After furling the main I checked the Evo.  The battery is now at 91%.  So it does work.  I am impressed.  

Some water is coming on board.  I had hoped to have a drink 

on deck in a few minutes listening to music.  We’ll see.

1730  The wind display shows 18 knots of wind on the beam so I expect it is about right, but even under very reduced sail all of the deck is wet.  I was able to stand in the companionway sipping my gin and tonic even with a slice of lime being hit only by a little spray, listening to my daily Bach on the speakers in the Great Cabin.  It is more pleasant in the breeze on deck than in the Great Cabin which was 85F earlier and is now 82, but when I went back below and was sitting on the starboard pipe berth perpendicular to the centerline braced by my feet on the port pipe berth a wave spashed into the companionway and over me and my drink.  The water is warm—75F—but still unwelcome.

From time to time I stand and look around.  Oddly I have seen no other vessels since leaving Port Royal Sound.  No pleasure craft.  No ships either at anchor or underway.

Time to heat water for my freeze dry feast.

1930  The fish haven buoy if it exists was due north of us a few minutes ago, so I eased sheets and course ten degrees and we are a bit beyond a beam reach and the motion is less extreme.  I have been surprised that with only 18 to 19 knots of wind it has been as rough as it has been.

Dinner was Mountain House chicken and dumplings, which of course were nothing like dumplings.  I merely reach into a bag of freeze dry meals I have tied at the aft end of the forepeak and take out whatever I touch first.  

 

Carol makes dark chocolate covered strawberries and chocolate peanut clusters.  She made a batch of peanut clusters for me to take along.  We both wondered if they would melt.  It is getting hot here.  I placed the container against the hull below the cockpit.  So far they haven’t and I had one for dessert accompanied by a sip of Laphroaig, which I have written is the taste of the sea.  This sip which I had standing in the companionway even more so after a wave splashed over us.

This sail is an attempt to understand what sailing the ocean can still mean to me.  I have said I am at home out here and I am as much as any of our species can be.  I have learned to be even better at it now than I have ever been.  But I am uncertain.  Perhaps the next days will provide answers.

2000  I see the ‘uncertain’ and wonder about what:  perhaps my relationship to the ocean after the end of the epic part of my life.

Near sunset.  I made my way to the aft end of the cockpit to check the battery level.  98% from 82% earlier.  

Zooming out on the chart there appears to be nothing ahead of us before the coast of France.

May 16, Friday

0700. The wind lightened to 12-13 knots during the night and veered to the SW, but there were still 4’ waves and it was rolly.  My shoulder did not bother me while sleeping.  Perhaps the pipe berth being soft and flexible is easier on it than a normal bed.

I woke several times and saw the loom of ships’ lights in the distance and found a large flying fish in the cockpit.

I got up about an hour ago and have had juice and a vitamin

pill.  Starbuck’s instant coffee is cooling to drinking temperature now.  

I also have changed course about 15º to a less broad reach off to the ESE.  Making 4-5 knots still under partially furled jib.

A wave just slammed into us.  Fortunately it did not come below.  The spray hood is down and the hatch open.  I will change that.

1000.  Uncooked oatmeal eaten, I raised the main.  We are now making 6 knots on a course of around 110 º I believe in the Gulf Stream because the Velocitek is showing a heading of 135º.

Earlier I felt a fluttering as thought the leech of the jib was shaking, but it wasn’t.  I determined it was coming from near the stern and when I got there found a clump of seaweed wrapped about the Evo prop.  I managed to tilt the motor out of the water as I had intended but found conditions too rough earlier.  Flutter ended.  Evo should be safe there.

1200

32 º 08’ N

78 º 20’ W

days run 119 miles

SOG  8.0 knots  COG 110 º.   We are in the Gulf Stream and being given a boost northeast.  Our bow is presently pointing 140 º

barometer 1013

wind 13 knots SW

just aft of beam reach

seas 2-3’

Good sailing with main and partially furled jib.  Smoother than yesterday.  Sunny.  83F in Great Cabin.

1440. Back to sailing under jib alone.  Still in the Gulf Stream, making 6-6.5 knots 105-110 º with bow pointing 140-145 º.  Hazy sun and hot.  88F in Great Cabin.

1830.  Freeze dry dinner of Mountain House Spaghetti and meat sauce which I thought called for red wine, so I opened a bottle.  I brought on board a bottle of Botanist gin, of course a bottle of Laphroaig ten year, and two bottles of red wine and one of white:  New Zealand sauvignon blanc. 

So I finished what I wanted of the spaghetti and took the remains of my wine and stood in the companionway where salt was added.  

I watched the waves approaching and passing.  I have no idea how many waves I have seen approaching.  Probably millions.  I still enjoy watching them.

I don’t know what to make of this.

Were I making a passage I would be pleased with our progress.  With no destination I don’t know how to judge.

I have seen no other ships or any sign of our species today.  I have the world to myself.  I love that.  But I love Carol and the beauty of our home overlooking Skull Creek.  Once I wrote:  There can be no place ashore for those of us who voyage alone.  Yet though I voyage alone in some ways, in others I do not.

I have no conclusion.  I am old and still finding my way.

May 17, Saturday

0830. I no longer have the world to myself.  A ship passed not far west of us an hour ago heading south.  She was a liquid carrier high on her lines.

The first part of last night was quite pleasant.  GANNET sailed smoothly and I slept well.  Then about 0230 something started knocking in the cabin and I could not find it.  I did not sleep well until about 0500 whatever it was stopped and I dozed until 0700.

We continue jogging along under partially furled jib before about 16 knots of wind.  On a passage when you do a mile it is behind you.  On this out and back when you do a mile you know you are going to have to do it again on the return.

My shoulder is bothering me some.  

1200

31 º 24’ N

76 º 52’ W

day’s run 87 miles

SOG 3.3 knots  COG 090 º

barometer 1014

14 knots S

beam reach

seas 2-3’

I shaved this morning and refilled the day water bottles of which I have four.  Three are a quart.  The other two quarts.

Continued hazy sunshine and warm.  86 in Great Cabin at present.

Listening to Faure’s Requiem.  About to have a 0 Heineken and Laughing Cow cheese.

1630. Listening to a scrambled favorites playlist, having just cleaned myself with a little fresh water and a handful of WetOnes and changed into fresh clothes.  

We continue to make our way easily ESE.  I just checked and we are doing between 5 and 6 knots in 15-17 knots of wind.  Few waves are coming on board.  I am tempted to have a drink on deck but reluctant to do so in dry clothes that I would like to keep dry for at least a little while.  Wind now 19 knots.  That is decisive.  Not going on deck.

An easy day.  I don’t know if it has meaning.  Or needs to.  I sort of think it should.

L’Chaim.

1710.  I decided to risk standing in the companionway.  I wanted to feel the wind and see more of the ocean than the glimpse I get sitting on the starboard pipe berth and looking out the companionway.  I should have put on my foul weather parka.  The waves are 4-5’, steep and close together.  One crested and splashed on board.  I know that the life expectancy of dry clothes on GANNET is minutes.

1845.  The wind has dried my shirt and is a bit less than 19 knots so I stood again in the companionway, braving the great risk and thought I should be doing more, but I doubt I again will.  

I am designed to go out and not come back, yet I probably never will again.  Perhaps it is enough that I have already done so so often.

I stood again in the companionway a few minutes ago.  The wind is back to 15-17 and I looked out at the waves as I have tens of thousands of times and was almost again in the monastery of the sea.  I came below and tried to send a message to Carol via the Yellowbrick, which works less well than it did before the company was sold, saying:  I am thinking of you.  And I was.  It is complicated.

My shoulder is hurting me.  A dull ache, not severe pain. 

May18, Sunday

0800.  I turned around at 0530, first light.  My shoulder is aching more and kept me from sleeping part of the night.  When I came about we were 270 miles from the mouth of Port Royal Sound bearing 287º.  Wisely I wore foul weather gear on deck.  While at the mast tying the reef luff line a wave smashed over the bow and me.  We are making about 4 knots close hauled port tack with a reef in the main and the jib partially furled more or less heading in the right direction, though we will be set north by the Gulf Stream when we reach it.  We are pounding off some waves.  I could not sleep under these conditions and if there is no change by sunset I will have to reduce sail further or heave to.  It is going to take a while to get home.

1200

30 º 59’ N

75 º 51’ W

no day’s run because we have reversed direction.  We are 57 miles from yesterday’s noon position.

SOG 3.0    COG 290º

barometer 1014

wind 12 knots SW

close hauled port tack

seas 2-3’

 

Sunny and hot.  I let out a little more jib, then had to take some of it back in.  Heeled too far.  Hard on my shoulders sitting leaning at Central.

1400  I moved the Avon, foul weather gear and food bags to the starboard pipe berth and my pillow and sleeping bag to the port one.  This will be the first night I’ve slept to port on this sail, assuming I can get to sleep there.  I just dozed off sitting at Central.

Continued sunny.  Close hauled.  15 knots of wind.  I wish it would back south or east.

1725   I am sitting on the port pipe berth listening to one of my favorite movie soundtracks, THE HOSTILES, by Max Richtner, for which I have my friend, Tim, who told me about the movie to thank.  I am intermittently sipping a gin and tonic with lime.  I had to add that.  Having a slice of lime is not the norm of GANNET, but then this sail is not her norm which is crossing oceans.

In the last few minutes the wind has weakened and may be changing.  I hope in a manner that eases our way. 

1800  Ten minutes ago just as I turned on the JetBoil to heat the water for this evenings freeze dry feast, GANNET’s bow slowly came up into the wind and backed the jib.  I reached up and flipped the switch on the electrical panel to turn off the tiller pilot, let the water boil, poured it into the pouch, then flipped the switch to turn the tiller pilot back on, went on deck, took the tiller, gybed us back on course and returned below to sip Sauvignon Blanc and await my Tuscan Style Pasta Roma to steep.

May 19, Monday

0615   I went to sleep about 2030 last night.  GANNET was pounding too much and woke me at 2230.  I hove to for the rest of the night.  GANNET was level and quiet.  Up a half hour ago and got us underway.  Reef still in the main.  Full jib.  Making about 3.5-4 knots on 310.  The wind has veered west and is heading us.  Yesterday when I turned us west Hilton Head Island was 270 miles distant.  Now it is 216.

My shoulder is more painful.  I’ll take some aspirin.

0800  Wind has continued to veer, so I have tacked back to starboard.  Making 4.5 knots on 255º.  Bearing to Hilton Head is 279º.  GANNET pounding some.  Surprising in moderate wind and low seas.

1200

31 º 35’N

076 º 45’ W

day’s run 59 miles

SOG 3.5   COG 235 º

barometer 1014

wind 9 knots W

close hauled starboard reefed main full jib

seas 2-3’

The wind has backed and headed us.  Sunny.  Hot.

1645  Rinsed myself with fresh water this afternoon and changed into dry clothes.  Still dry. 

I also switched Avon to port and my sleeping bag and pillow to starboard. 

Sky completely overcast.  I partially furled jib.  We are making 4.8 on a course of 252º close hauled starboard.

A container ship passed an hour ago a few miles west of us heading south.

A few drops of rain as I was standing in the companionway sipping a gin and tonic with lime.  Only one more.  I am almost out of gin, tonic and lime.  GANNET was sailing perfectly.  Slipping over the small waves gracefully, perfectly balanced.

May 20, Tuesday

0700 Up a half an hour.  Becalmed last night at 0130.  Sails down.  I had hoped that when the wind returned it would come from a different direction.  It hasn’t.  It is still heading us.  I got the sails up.  The main still reefed.  We are making 2.5 knots on a course of 300º on the Velocitek, but iSailor shows our COG of 260.  A reverse eddy of the Gulf Stream?  Hilton Head is 173 miles bearing 295º.  I am going with iSailor now showing a COG of 286.  Velocitek is 30 degrees higher.

0845  Coffee on deck.  Quite pleasant.

1100 Wind has backed slightly.  We are under full sail on a close reach, but being moved and slowed by an odd current that is pushing us south.

A very hot day.  Sweating just sitting still in the Great Cabin.

1200

31 º 04’ N

77 º 42’W

day’s run 59 miles

SOG 3.0  COG. 295 º

barometer 1014

wind 9 knots SSW

close reach

seas 2’

Hilton Head Island 164 miles bearing 295 º

We are 31 nautical miles farther south than noon yesterday.  Clearly we drifted south while becalmed.

There continues to be a 30 º difference between the heading on the Velocitek and the COG in iSailor, with the Velocitek reading farther north.  We also seem to be sailing faster than the SOG in iSalior.  An add countercurrent.

1430  Reef back in mainsail.

We suddenly went off course.  I don’t know why.  I got into the cockpit just as the mainsail gybed.  Put the tiller pilot in standby and gybed us back.  Then went below for foul weather gear and put the reef back in the main.  Sailing now with reefed main and partially furled jib on close reach on rhumb line to Hilton Head.  Brutally hot in cabin.  Sweat pouring off me.  In addition to other liquids I brought alone two two quart bottles of unsweetened tea.  At least I am not thirsty,

1700 Whatever current we were in we are now almost out.  The Velocitek and iSailor are only a few degrees apart and a half knot of boat speed.

I rinsed the sweat off.  The t-shirt dry yesterday was too sodden to put back on, so I dug out a for the moment dry one.

1730  This is fine sailing.  GANNET is so sensitive, so easy to balance.  She does not have the weight to bash into waves.  Certainly not without a crew to stick on the windward rail as ballast, as this crew refuses to do, but she is designed to sail, to respond to and move with the wind.  I started to write: she wants to sail.  But of course that is nonsense.  GANNET only seems to be alive.  She wants and feels nothing.  Enviable I think at times, but again of course not.  To want and feel is everything in our butterflies’ cough of consciousness.  

I note in the ancient Japanese poetry I read that they prefer the cicadas chirp.  A thousand years apart we are writing about the same thing.

The music playing as I write is Beethoven’s String Quartet No. 13.  I have already listened to my Bach for the day, which was his Third Cello Suite performed by Jonos Starker.

I very much admire Beethoven’s late string quartets, but I admire Bach more.  There is at times in Beethoven too much emotion.  Too much ‘Why me, God?” which I realized long ago is a worthless question.  Bach never would have asked it.

May 21, Wednesday

0430  Heeled over too far.  Not pounding, but I couldn’t sleep any longer.  I got up to furl the jib deeper and a wave caught me full on,  Not cold, but unpleasant.

We are in the Gulf Stream making five knots almost due north while pointing 300 º.  

 

I’ll try to sleep sitting here at Central.

0800  I did sleep at Central.  Woke a few minutes ago when we gybed.  I had changed out of my soaked shorts and put on foul weather pants before going on deck.  The tiller pilot had died.  We are now sailing close hauled port tack with tiller tied down.  Actually still going north.  I have another tiller pilot at hand to engage when necessary.

0945  Barometer dropped overnight.  Now 1009.  Conditions getting rough.  Twenty knots of wind heading us. Sunny.

1200

32 º 13’ N

79 º 12’ W

days run 104 miles

SOG 3.4  COG  290 º

barometer 1010

wind 20 knots WSW

close hauled port

seas 5’

Hilton Head 73 miles   bearing 270

This is becoming an ordeal.

1345  A brutal day.  I was just on deck.  The wind has backed enough so that we are heading closer to Hilton Head than Charleston, but it has increased.  24 knots.  Steep 6’ waves close together.

1520  I put in the second reef, which was arduous, and had almost immediately to remove it.  Not enough power.  GANNET just drifted north.  Back as we were. Single reefed main.  Deeply furled jib.  Tiller tied down.

1700 GANNET was pounding too hard, leaping off the crests of waves and slamming into the troughs.  I became concerned about the mast staying up and there was no way sleep would be possible, so I went on deck and tried to heave to.  Still pounding, so I have lowered all sail and we are lying ahull, drifting southeast back out to sea.  The little boat is still rolling, but the difference in the cabin is immense and the stresses on boat and crew greatly diminished.  This calls for a glass of Laphroaig.

1745  I should have hove to this morning.  No need for GANNET and me to suffer.  Another day or two out here is not a punishment.  Trying to beat to windward today was.  One certainty about the wind off this coast is that it will change.  I hope tonight, but if not I am good for weeks, although not surprisingly considering my exertions both shoulders are aching.

May 22, Thursday

0600  An unpleasant night.  I got some sleep, but not much.  A lot of rolling and some waves smashing on board.

I’ve been up a half hour trying to get GANNET

underway.  Not happening yet.  Wind still 20 knots from the west.  I hope it decreases or changes direction sometime today.

Since lowering sails thirteen hours ago we haven’t drifted much.  The mouth of Port Royal Sound was 73 miles bearing 270 at noon yesterday.  I think it was 67 miles bearing 275 later that afternoon.  Now 69 miles bearing 280.  

0800  Underway.  Scrap of jib.  Single reefed main.  Making about 3.5 to 4 knots.  The Velocitek says our course is 260.  iSailor 245.  16 knots of wind.  Not pounding much.  Second tiller pilot steering.

1200

31º 55’N

079 º 33’W

days run  25 miles  Lay ahull from 1700 yesterday until 0800 this morning.

SOG 3.7  COG  255 º

barometer 1013 rising

wind 10 knots NW decreasing

close hauled starboard tack reefed main partially furled jib

seas 3’ decreasing

Hilton Head 59 miles bearing 290 º

I have several times unfurled more jib and am about to do so again.  If the wind doesn’t change, I will tack later today or tonight.

Sunny. Hot.

1300 Tacked to port and let out full jib.  Making 3.5 knots about 345 º.  A large ship stationary a few miles south of us.  I cannot make out what it is.  Perhaps a Navy vessel.  And what I think is a fishing boat a few miles north of us.

1400 Wind just backed 30 degrees and we are not making 5 knots on 312 º.  Excellent.

May 23, Friday

0130  I got up a half an hour ago and got us underway.  I had lowered sail and let us drift for a few hours.  I got some sleep between 2000 and 0100.  I did not want to get in too close too early during the night.  There are too many buoys, shoals and ships and pleasure craft, anchored or underway.  We are making 3.5 knots under full jib and reefed main close hauled starboard, but not able to head directly for the entrance to the channel into Port Royal Sound.  I’ll have to tack in a couple of hours, then tack again to go up the channel.  10 knots of wind.  Pleasant night.  No ships in sight.

0220 Tacked to starboard.  

0300  Tacked to port.  Lights of what I believe are three fishing boats ahead.

0345 Tacked to starboard.  Fishing boats now east of us.  Had a cup of coffee and an RX bar.

0515  Tired and eager for first light.

0925  Unreefed main.  Full sail set, but we are only making 2 knots.  Almost becalmed.  Still not to shipping channel.

1120  Another brutal day, but brutal in a different way.  Blazing sun.  Becalmed at the outer end of the channel into Port Royal Sound.  I would like to make it into the sound today.  I expected to make it to the marina.  But I can anchor here.  I’m in 50’ of water.

I decided to see if the outboard will start.  To its credit it did.  I am impressed.  We do not have the range to power to the sound which is 10 nautical miles north of us, but I could power us a short distance if we start to drift onto a shoal.  Perhaps needless to say I am very hot and tired.  I have twice covered myself with sun screen, but have had to be on deck exposed to the sun much more than usual and will have to be more.

1200

32 º 04’ N

080º 35’ W

distance from yesterday noon 54 miles

SOG 0.8 knots  COG 255 

barometer 1018 rising

becalmed 

sea glassy

I have the bow pointing toward Port Royal Sound and we may be moving that way.  I would like at least to get off to one side of the channel before anchoring.  I have moved the anchor and rode from the bow to under the forward hatch.  Time to buy a pontoon boat.

1500  Sailing at 2.5 even 3 knots on a starboard broad reach partially tide aided.  What blazing speed!  Light wind returned about an hour ago and we are now about half way along the channel to the mouth of Port Royal Sound.  I am still not sure we will make it, but that is more likely than earlier this afternoon.  

1900  GANNET in slip after too much excitement in the last quarter mile.  It took us seven hours to cover the final eighteen miles and until midafternoon I did not think we had a chance to make the marina, but then the wind increased slightly to perhaps six or seven knots and we began to get a boost from the incoming tide.  The Velocitek began to show speeds of 5 knots.  Then 6.  

I was on deck all afternoon heavily doused with sun screen.

I called Carol when we first started moving after being becalmed and told her I might make it into the sound.  She called me about 1530 and I told her I thought I might make it to the slip.  We would have the tide with us until it changed at the mouth of Skull Creek at 1802.

GANNET was moving smoothly and there were no other boats around so I tied on the fenders and fit the dock lines in acts of hope.

A long narrow shoal that parallels the north shore of Hilton Head Island has a green buoy at its north end 1.8 miles from the mouth of Skull Creek and it is another 1.8 miles from the mouth of Skull Creek to the marina.  We passed that buoy at 1730.  When we were a half mile from Skull Creek I lowered the main and turned on the Evo, though just in idle.  We were making 5 knots under the jib alone.  I glanced at the Evo display which said the battery was 82% charged.  No problem I thought particularly since with the wind angle I would be able to carry the jib to within a half mile of the marina.  I was completely wrong for reasons I still do not understand and will write about in another journal entry.

Several small power boats were anchored off a sandy spit on the island.  People on them were enjoying themselves, some drinking, some leaping into the water, some making a lot of noise.

Although we were a few minutes before high tide at the creek mouth, once inside the creek the current was already clearly against us, so I gave the Evo some throttle.

Also for the first time I encounter a number of floats in the creek presumably above crab traps.  The tiller pilot was steering and I had to take the tiller to avoid some of the floats.

The creek makes a gradual curve before reaching the marina.  As we reached the apex of that curve I furled the jib and glanced south and found a ship coming at me.  It was a river boat cruise ship that runs between Charleston and Florida.  Not big as cruise ships go, but with three decks by far the biggest ship to transit Skull Creek.  We would pass just off the last shoal before the marina.  I did not want to go behind her so I moved to the very eastern edge of the Intracoastal channel only a few feet from the second to last green marker before the marina.  I glanced up at the ship and saw passengers looking down at me and suddenly realized we were rapidly drifting sideways.  I leaned back and saw the Evo display was showing an ‘Error’ message.  I turned the throttle handle.  No response.  I looked down and the prop was not turning.  I rushed into the cabin, opened the forward hatch, pushed the anchor onto deck, squirmed through myself and had it over the side in seconds.  The first 20’ of rode are chain.  I let that out and then about ten feet of line and cleated it off.  The Spade anchor caught and held.  We were several yards inside the green marker.  Had I not moved the anchor earlier from its usual stowed position in the bow to under the forward hatch we would have drifted much farther.   I made my way back to the cockpit.  The depthsounder showed us in 12’ of water still near high tide.  I looked at the Evo display.  It gave an error number that meant nothing to me and which I do not remember.  I turned the Evo off.  Then back on.  Same error message.

A year or so ago I bought a second Evo battery in an effort to have greater range.  I went below and brought it up on deck and swapped it for the one on the motor.  With some trepidation I pressed the start button.  The motor started.  I turned the throttle handle.  The prop turned.  I turned the throttle back to neutral and went forward to raise the anchor.  Always the anchor has come up clean around Hilton Head.  This time the ten pound Spade came up in at least a ten pound ball of mud.  I left it on the foredeck, raced aft, gave the Evo throttle and we made our way back to the channel and headed for the marina less than a quarter mile away.

Both wind and tide were against us.  I gave the Evo enough power for us to maintain 1.5 knots.

We were almost at the fairway between A dock and B dock when a small power boat came roaring past us.  Five or six young people were on board.  GANNET rocked in its wake and I was dismayed to see it turn into the fairway ahead of us.  I circled to give them time then headed in myself.  Ahead of me I saw them pull partway into a slip on B Dock almost opposite GANNET’s slip, but they left half the boat in the fairway.  I yelled, “You have got to get out of the way.”  They looked up surprised as some people are to find they do not have the planet to themselves.  One of the young men pulled the boat a few feet forward but left the stern still protruding into the fairway.  GANNET was being pushed sideways by the outgoing tide.  I turned her into her slip more abruptly than usual.  Cut the engine, stepped on the dock with the bow line and got it onto a cleat before the tide carried the little boat backward.  Much more excitement than I expected or wanted.

I put the mainsail cover on. Pulled the anchor rode bag onto deck so I could shut the forward hatch.  Locked the companionway and started to walk home.  I would sort out the mess tomorrow.

As I neared the end of the pier out to the marina I saw Carol’s car.  She had seen me dock and texted that she would come down, but I don’t often check texts and had not seen it.  I was glad for the ride.  I thought as I got into the car: what a pretty woman and kind.