Please Be Seated

There are lots of ways to tell boys apart from girls, but the only scientific way that I know of is to watch how someone pees. Girls sit and boys stand. You can trust me, it's science. It's one of the many reasons why boys have it easier than girls in this world. When walking through the woods, there is a tree every other step that is a natural bathroom for boys, boys can write their name in the snow while peeing, and boys get to melt ice in the urinals at finer bars and taverns all over 'Merica. I don't know that girls have any of those luxuries. And boys, if you think you have it tougher than girls, try pushing a watermelon out your man parts and then talk to me later about how easy that was.

I'm telling you about this well known fact because we were just out to sea in the mighty Pacific and it's been rough. We've been pummeled by monster waves and strong winds that have had the boat rocking and rolling and had us struggling to stand upright. I've had to come to grips with my masculinity and resort to peeing like a girl (sitting). I could have probably stayed standing and gave it my best shot, but my guess is that my normally excellent aim wouldn't have been that excellent, and also, I'm sure Brenda didn't want me spraying the whole inside of the bathroom as I fought to stand upright just because I still wanted to feel like a man.

We payed pretty close attention to the weather before we set out on this little sail across the Pacific. The forecast was calling for 15 knots of breeze and 4-5 foot seas for almost our entire trip. What the forecast doesn't tell you, is about all of the “localized conditions” that don't show up in the satellite images. The localized conditions are thunderstorms. Those thunderstorms bring with them huge steep seas, fierce winds, torrential rains, and worst of all, lightning. And those thunderstorms can effect the winds and waves we are experiencing even if the storm is miles and miles away.

When we first set sail, we had a pretty steep 6 to 8 foot jagged swell and much stronger winds than was forecast. We attributed the nastiness to “localized conditions” and kept on sailing while hoping things would improve. For the first 3 days out, we zig zagged our way towards Kiribti while trying to avoid squalls and thunderstorms. We could see these storms off in the distance and would veer our course just enough to either race in front of them or just miss the tail end of them. Even though we would miss sailing through the center of the storms, we would still get hit with high winds and larger seas that would toss us around and keep us on our toes.

On our 4^th day, we came to an impasse. We had a huge thunderstorm that stretched the entire length of the horizon. There was a wall of black clouds that stretched from the heavens to the sea. The rain was falling so heavily that it looked like a curtain had been drawn and you couldn't see 5 feet into the storm. Lightning was flashing and thunder was booming. There was no getting around this one.

Just before we entered the storm, we dropped all sails except for the storm jib and hoped for the best. When we crossed the threshold and entered the wall of rain, things started happening fast. The wind jumped from 20 knots to the low 40's, sideways rain came down in sheets, the ocean swell jumped from 8 feet to 15 feet, daylight was almost completely taken away, and worst of all, lightning was flashing all around us. And I mean everywhere.

The only times I've ever been scared on a sailboat is during lightning storms. It's just doesn't seem like a good idea to have a 75 foot tall metal pole sticking out of the center of the boat that is begging to get hit. Especially when that 75 foot tall metal pole is the only one around for 500 miles. It's not like there are other boats around that give the lightning other options to strike. It's just us out there. Ugh.

Luckily for us, the big thunderstorm was much longer than it was wide. We only had to ride the madness for a few hours until we punched through the other side. And once we were through, things calmed down quickly. The wind dropped back into the 20 knot range, waves started to shrink, and the rain let up revealing a bright blue sky.

An interesting thing happens to the waves during a squall or thunderstorm. Not only do they grow rapidly, but they become more jagged and sharp. Almost like they are growing teeth. And these growing monsters with their jagged teeth are trying to swallow us whole. Just about every time a huge wave with it's jagged teeth looks like it is going to get the better of us, we magically glide over the top of it. But every once in a while, a monster of a wave hits us square on the side and lands with a loud boom while sending spray, foam, and water washing over the deck.

On day 6, the wind completely died and the seas started to calm. No wind means no sailing so we fired up the trusty diesel and started motoring toward our destination of Kiribati. We had about 350 miles to go at this point and 2-3 more days at sea before we touch land again. Normally I would be complaining about listening to the rattle of the diesel for days on end, but not this time. This time it meant we got to open up the hatches on the boat, get some fresh air flowing through it, eat, sleep, and relax a little bit. The boat had been closed up tight for the past 6 days because of the nasty weather and waves, so some fresh air inside the boat almost made it seem hospitable again...almost...it was still ungodly hot.

It may sound like I am trying to paint a nasty picture of what it was like for us on this passage. Well, that's not the case. For the most part, it was just plain boring...until it wasn't. We would generally sit and wait for some excitement, and when the excitement came, we would spring to action. The majority of our time was spent staring at the sea. It's hard not to. The sea is beautiful and mesmerizing and captivating. It's sort of like staring at a campfire for hours on end, except you don't have to add more firewood. The waves just keep coming and coming and coming. Even when the wind died and the seas calmed, we still had a 4 to 6 foot swell that was a gentle rolling motion instead of the sharp and jagged swell we had gotten used to. It just kept coming.

Brenda and I played a game we called “I spy anything”. The object of the game is to find anything at all to look at other than water and sky. One point is awarded for anything spotted...anything at all. We mostly spotted plastic bottles floating by, so we decided to award an extra point if you could tell what was inside that bottle when new. Gatorade bottles are pretty easy to identify and also pretty sad to see since we are hundreds of miles from anywhere. We eventually lost count of all the plastic we saw because the closer we got to the equator, the more of it there was. Tons and tons and tons of plastic drifting on by. Everything from bottles, paint trays, bags, flip flops, basketballs, oil jugs, fishing floats, packaging, you name it, we saw it. We would occasionally spot sea birds gliding between the ocean swell, schools of flying fish, and the winner of the most points because it was the coolest by far was a couple of whales (spotted by me...the winner).

I would also love to say that it was an easy passage. But I can't. It was somewhat difficult. It wasn't terribly difficult, but it definitely wasn't easy.  Everything from eating, sleeping, peeing like a girl, boredom, and even just sitting inside the boat to escape the relentless sun was challenging. The motion of the boat was surprisingly good considering the conditions we had, but surprisingly good is still bouncy, rocky, and sometimes down right violent. And the closer we got to the equator, the hotter and muggier it became.

The worst day was probably the last. It was the calmest day we had, but we were going to reach land around midnight, which meant navigating a coral reef at night and in the dark...never a good idea. Instead of reaching land in the dark, we slowed our speed so we would make it the following morning in broad daylight. It's really disheartening to be so close to setting foot on terra firma and then slowing down to add one more day at sea. It was a bummer but we made it. After 8 days at sea, 5 different government officials, and official documents in quadruple, we are now officially in Kiribati. We are anchored in front of the island of Betio on the Tarawa Atoll. We have some pretty great photos from the big blue ocean, but the internet connection in Kiribati is beyond slow.  We'll post some pictures when we get to a place with a better connection.  More on Kiribati in the next installment.  

Just a little thunderstorm at sunrise near the equator.  In case you are wondering, thunderstorms are not our favorite things.