For the first few days the wind has been blowing more from the south-east than from the east, forcing us to sail close-hauled. That means heel, waves coming onto the deck, and every hatch closed except the companionway. As a result it is extremely hot and stuffy inside the yacht. The fans help a little.
If you ignore the discomfort and the fact that we are not making much easting, we are progressing fairly well. On the morning of 14 November the distance remaining dropped below 900 miles; yesterday, the 13th, it dropped below a thousand.
If we do not run into a calm or a southerly wind of the sort that arrives once every few weeks, we will cross the finish line in nine days. The main result of our eight-year voyage aboard the yacht will be achieved, and the southernmost family circumnavigation through all the great capes, all the southern capes of the planet and Antarctica with children will be complete.
We have not yet decided what we will do in the days after that, or whether Lady Mary will leave the Pacific to the west or to the east. The first decision depends on whether it rains. With full tanks we will have much more room to manoeuvre than with empty ones. The second depends on a dozen factors, some of which are better not discussed publicly.
After the depressing experience with Kiribati described in the previous report, we are not placing much faith in receiving the kind of help from shore that we need.
Fishing for giants
Yesterday dolphins came to visit — large, energetic and beautiful. They leapt and dived right beside the yacht until they got bored.
As for fishing, these days the rattle of the rod no longer means sashimi and steaks for lunch. Only giants take our bait. They strip about two hundred metres of line, fight the captain to see who is stronger, then make one powerful dive beneath the hull and vanish into the blue abyss, leaving us with a broken end of line.
The second-to-last one was a tuna of about thirty kilograms. We never even saw the latest. The rod bent into an arc and then — snap! — went slack.
Soon it will be like our Atlantic crossing, when the value of the tackle lost overboard exceeded the value of the fish we caught with it. The captain has not lost hope, though, and has put the line out again.
Since three monsters carried our three best lures into the ocean in three days, the first mate decided to treat the whole family to Thai green curry instead. She poured so much of the stuff over fried vegetables, mushrooms and ginger that it could make even the captain's eyes pop out — and he loves spicy food.
The aromas drifting through the yacht are divine, but we are almost afraid to begin the meal. I sat down to write this report mainly to postpone the hour of reckoning.
Blue days
Everyone is tired. This morning Nastya said that the happiest moment of the day is when she falls asleep. Yes, I agreed with her.
Add to that the moment when letters and comments arrive by satellite email and an interesting film in the evening. The other pleasures of week eleven are less reliable.
Without the landing on Suwarrow Atoll between days 45 and 51, it would have been thoroughly miserable.
It is difficult to keep pushing against the trade wind. It is awkward to write, difficult to live actively, even difficult to think. The hatches are shut, it is hot and stuffy, and the boat is heeled.
Still, it would be sinful to complain. Compared with the first month of the passage, this is practically a resort. There are no storms and the mucus in our noses is no longer freezing. As the old joke says, “Your Galya is terribly spoiled.”
The deckhand and I recently made coconut milk. We grated several coconuts finely, added the juice from one coconut and some water, mixed and kneaded everything, squeezed it, and ended up with half a litre of rich, delicious coconut milk.
The part we did not drink immediately had soured by morning, but in a very respectable way — into something like liquid kefir. We drank some and poured the rest into pancake batter. A cup of grated coconut went in too. A small basin of pancakes disappeared before lunch.
We have about twelve coconuts left, so we will repeat the experiment in a few days. The main thing is to have enough water for diluting them.
There has still been no rain. The last shower was somewhere near 10° south while we were heading toward the equator. We hope that on the return leg the rains will come back at roughly the same latitude.
Even without them, with strict economy, the water should last until we see people again. For now we are still living lavishly: drinking and cooking as much as we need, using tiny amounts of fresh water to rinse dishes, and washing every evening with one litre per person through the sports cap of a plastic bottle.
Hooray, people!
Our course crossed that of the first cargo ship we have seen in two months. Judging by its heading, it is going from American Samoa toward the United States. If only we had its speed! We would have circumnavigated the planet eighty-five times by now.
The captain and I are about to sit down and edit video. Nastya is doing lessons. The deckhand has settled down to paint a large abstract picture in acrylics on canvas.
In the cockpit, beside the mainsheet winch, she has fixed a container containing her pets: oregano named Greg and a carrot named Makovka. She grew them from seeds that Australian supermarkets gave away in small paper pots with purchases above a certain amount — a bonus for every thirty dollars spent.
The deckhand waters them carefully and protects them from direct sun. When we reach land, we will find larger pots. In another month or two we will have a whole vegetable garden. That is what we will live on.
Thank you, friends, for your comments and warm words. Enormous thanks to Sergey G. from Moscow, Natalia D., Andrey S. and the other wonderful people who support the crew's morale through YooMoney and PayPal. Friends, you bring us so much joy.
Hugs to all of you!
To see where we are now, visit travely-family.com and open the Route tab. It shows Lady Mary's track from the Rockstar Iridium 360 tracker provided by MVS Telecom.
Sent by satellite from 4°54′ S, 156°04′ W.