January 12
The last two days have been pretty much idyllic sailing with enough wind to maintain 4 knots on a beam reach and a relatively flat ocean. We have now entered the area affected by what at the moment is a tropical depression but is still forecast to become a category 1 cyclone by the time it passes us on the 17th.
January 13
Up until now cyclone season in the Indian Ocean has meant light, variable winds and extended periods of calm. Over the last few days, we have been tracking a category 1 cyclone bearing down on us from the north. There is no way to avoid it so we are going to do a manoeuvre we are calling the Cyclone Slingshot. We are going to cut in close to the cyclone’s southern edge and use the strong clockwise rotating winds to slingshot us towards South Africa. We can’t venture too far south or we will run into the roaring forties which is full of its own sailing challenges of large waves and very strong headwinds.
It should make for an interesting week.
January 15
The wind has been moderate from the east for the last few days. Strong enough to keep us moving, but not strong enough to stabilize the boat and prevent the main from slamming violently in the waves. The cyclone now has an official name, Cyclone Belal. Despite the imminent danger just to the north, life on board has taken on a relaxed and slightly bored atmosphere. We spend our days sketching, watching the waves, napping on deck, and reading books. Unfortunately, we only have so many books on board and Cianan is now on his fourth reading of Patrick O’Brian’s 20 book Aubrey Maturin series.
We just reset our clocks back 2.5 hours. We were still on Cocos Keeling time. There is actually a noticeable difference sailing west with each day being slightly longer than the previous one. We had to do the time change while we were both up making for a longer day for both of us, otherwise one of us would have an extra long watch while the other had over six hours of sleep, which would be so nice.
It has now been 45 days since we have had fresh food and 21 days since we have seen land or another person.
January 16
By 6 pm the barometer had plunged 7 millibars, the fastest we have seen it fall yet. The night was pitch black, too dark to see the water apart from the slight glow of bioluminescence in the waves. The masthead light 40 feet above dimly illuminated the sails through slanting rain, giving the boat a feeling of being tossed about in a great expanse of black nothingness.
Cyclone Belal is now only 200 miles north of us. This sounds like a long way but if it changed course, as cyclones often do, we could find ourselves in the centre of it in less than a day.
Around 3 am we were passed by the 968-foot tanker Yiannis making 17 knots for the Cape, trying to put distance between themselves and Belal. Although the lights of the tanker are over 50 feet above the water they keep disappearing behind the waves.
I wonder what they thought of a tiny 30 foot sailboat out here with a cyclone bearing down. Or maybe they are taking bets on how far they’ll get before they have to respond to a mayday call.
I take solace in the fact there are many accounts of small 30 or so foot sailboats weathering a hurricane when 300 foot power boats have been sunk or abandoned within a few miles of each other. It really is quite impressive just how much better sailboats handle storms than motorboats.
A large flying fish just crash-landed in the cockpit and I am now covered in fish slime and scales.
January 17
The barometer dropped another 2 millibars over the day and even under double reefed main and storm jib we’re flying along. Tonight the wind continued to build, whipping the sea up into a foaming frenzy with green water sweeping the deck. The wind is now howling in the rigging. On watch, I sat down below, braced into the bunk so as not to be thrown across the boat by the impact of the waves. I tried to read a book while listening to the creaks and groans of the boat and the constant rushing of water. The wind and waves were so intense that water was making its way through our air vents and dribbling from the ceiling of the cabin.
We’ve had to head up a fair amount in the last few hours, as the wind is veering from the east to the southeast, which I am taking as a sign that we are getting close to the outside edge of the cyclone.
January 18
As of right now, we are on the exact opposite side of the world from Salt Spring Island.
This morning the wind has died off considerably, leaving Saumure surfing down large waves over 20 feet tall. We still keep getting pounded by the occasional wave sweeping over the cabin top. We got the jib up today and took two reefs out of the main. We are still moving fast at around 6 – 9 kts but much more comfortable than the previous few days. It looks like the cyclone slingshot has worked and we made it by the cyclone. It was pretty rough at times but an unforgettable experience.
Hopefully, the wind swings around from the north before we pass Madagascar. It sounds like it can get pretty uncomfortable in a southerly.
January 20
The last few days have been ideal, fast sailing, passing 163 miles under our keel from noon to noon. We are averaging 7-8 kts and hitting up to 13 kts surfing down the waves – very wet and fast. This has been our best day yet for distance since leaving Canada.
We are now down to a few days supply of granola and powdered milk and lunch and supper consists mostly of baked beans or rice, sometimes mixed. We are very much looking forward to a good meal in Richards Bay, South Africa.
Today was laundry day. Our pillow was getting a thick layer of grease on it, not having been washed in quite some time, to conserve water. It took four buckets of seawater to get it clean and then a very small amount of our precious fresh water to wash the salt out.
All going well, our estimated date of arrival in Richard’s Bay, South Africa will be between January 27th and February 3rd.
Now we just have to hope for a good wind from the north for our approach to Richard’s Bay. It would be nice to get into South Africa in calm weather.