Dan woke up around eight this morning and announced he couldn’t go back to sleep anymore, not even if his life depended on it. I, on the other hand, had been up since one this morning, had for undetermined reasons a lousy evening sleep prior to that and now intended to show Dan that if he couldn’t, I definitely could. Within ten minutes of him sticking his head out in the cockpit, I was in my bunk sound asleep. Woke up at around eleven all set for another exciting day at sea.
At noon I take the usual twenty four hour mileage reading and learn we have clocked over a 150 miles. 151.81 nautical miles to be precise. That’s huge for us. The first time on this trip to cross the magic 150 mile boundary. I know, some sailing boats do a 150 before lunch, no big deal, but for this vessel, only 29 feet of waterline and heavily loaded, it is quite a feat. A vessel’s theoretical maximum speed is directly related to its waterline, the length of the boat that actually sits in the water. There are a million other factors, but that one is a predominant one. To celebrate this milestone we have our happy hour early and drink our allotted one glass of wine a day, at about twelve fifteen. Still have about four and a half boxes of wine left. Three liters per box and I figure no more than two weeks to Seattle. Don’t need to do any math.
Talking about math. For those in the unknown, 151.81 nautical miles equals 281.16 kilometers and equals 174.00 standard miles, the ordinary kind, the ones used on land. Now the length of a nautical mile actually makes sense. I’d say as opposed to the other mile, but there probably is a good explanation for the existence of that one too, I just don’t know. Anyway, pole to pole is 180 degrees. 60 minutes in a degree. And one minute equals a nautical mile. There you have it, used for sea and air navigation.
Dolphins!
There they are. A highlight in a day, any day. Big pod this time. They always seem to come from the rear, from somewhere between four and five o’clock. You see them from a distance as they jump, but when closer you also see them inside the waves. That is so cool. Three, four, five of them side by side, you only see their heads, rising up, in a wave rolling toward us. Such happy looking animals and so genuinely pleased to see us. And then all of a sudden the boat is surrounded. They are everywhere, but most like to play near the front. They jump across the bow, turn around, line up and do it again. Sometimes five at the time. If dolphins were allowed in the Olympics, no human would pick up a medal again for synchronized swimming ever again. These creatures have cornered the market.
On this journey this is the fifth time we have been visited by dolphins. Really not all that uncommon to encounter them. The second time was the biggest pod I have ever seen. It’s very hard to estimate how many dolphins there were, as we couldn’t always tell if they were coming or going, count the same animal twenty-five times or what, but we figured there were at least a hundred of them. At least. A massive pod. And two different species. I hadn’t come across anything like that either. There were your regular dolphinarium ‘here comes flipper’ the common bottlenose type of dolphins, but also a species, much bulkier, with different coloring, with kind of flecked markings. And no bottlenose. A nose yes, but much flatter, stumpier. These guys completely cleared the water. Amazing jumpers, jumping much higher than your home, kitchen and garden variety type ever does. Couldn’t tell you the name of that species right now. Where is the internet when you need it. No, not here at sea. On a separate occasion we also had a visit from three Dall’s porpoises. Very nice looking animals with the contrasting black and white coloring.
And the way they come is the way they go. The waves give, the waves take away. It’s almost like one gives the signal and off they go, building up incredible speed by just a little twitching of their tale. It’s so effortless, so beautiful. Thanks for stopping by. Always appreciated. Please come again.
A little later a bleep on the multi-display monitor announces the existence and approaching of a big vessel. First one in eighteen days. A little fiddling with buttons on the display brings up a screen with some more info. First we find out that the ship’s name is Sofie Maersk. Port of origin is unknown, but port of destination is MX ZLO. Turns out that is code for, ‘I don’t have a clue what the port of destination is either.’ Google it, somewhere in Mexico I’d say. Length is 0.187 nautical miles. There you have it again, but I didn’t think you would measure ships in miles. Beam is 138 feet. Draft 48 feet. Heading 113°T, T stands for True, meaning true north rather than magnetic. And she is doing 17.5 knots, that’s nautical miles per hour.
The display and its inner electronics works, based on our course and speed and based on the Sofie Maersk’s course and speed, gives us the CPA, Closest Point of Approach. How cool is that? So if neither one of us alter course, or change speed, the closest we get to her is 5.14 nm. And that’s going to happen in 28 minutes. Beware! By then we have had her in view for quite a while. The Sofie Maersk turns out to be a container ship. Really big. As I watch her go by and see the different colored containers stacked on her deck I have this thought of Cubism in action. There should be an artist from the movement arranging these containers in every port. Each ship would be different, each a work of art. Art delivered to a port near you.
Busy day, or what? Exhausting!
Quite a few years ago I lived in a small town in the interior of British Columbia. In early January, the one day before the children went back to school, the last day of their Christmas holiday, I was at the local bottle depot turning in our empties. This tiny bottle depot was run, not owned, but run by a twenty-year-old who obviously was dropped on his head at birth, or shortly thereafter. Good kid though and a good worker, just not all that bright. When he handed me some change he commented that he was glad the kids were going back to school tomorrow and everything would be back to normal.
Why do I think of him right now? Perhaps he was just making conversation, perhaps there is some harmony in his world when there is nothing out of the ordinary. But twenty years old, in a business that is perhaps marginally, but likely not at all affected by kids being on holiday and glad everything will be back to normal! Really? I’m sure I was reading way too much into it at the time. But today, years later, I’m getting it. I’m on his wavelength. Today I’m totally digging the guy.
