A Summary of our Crossing

As I write this, you might be saying “you are in beautiful Hawaii; how exciting”!  Hawaii was not what we expected but hang on to the end of this for the next chapter.

A brief recap of the beginning. Jeff and I had planned for years to sail away on Salpare, our 1997 Catalina 400. Actually, that’s what Salpare means; “sail away” in Italian. We were finally able to realize that dream last September as we sold our land possessions and cast lines off in Tacoma. Our original plan was to sail to Mexico then down to Central America. After visiting the Galapagos, we would continue west thru French Polynesia, Tonga and end up in New Zealand.

After the long passage down the Washington, Oregon, California and Baja coasts, we realized we wanted to slow down and spend more time in the Sea of Cortez. Change of plans! We would winter in Mexico and in early spring, do the “Pacific Puddle Jump” to French Polynesia and beyond. That is a rhumb line distance of 2800 open ocean miles; a major accomplishment for any sailor.

We convinced our friends Tom Miner and Kris Wilhelmsen to join us for this fun filled ocean passage where beautiful Polynesian women would greet them on the other side! Tom and Kris bought in to it and joined us in La Paz, Mexico. We sailed a pretty boring trip with little to no wind across the Sea of Cortez to Puerto Vallarta. Here, our fool proof plan would have us wait a few days for our long anticipated Long Stay Visas for French Polynesia. We waited and waited… During the wait, a curious new virus called Corona started making the news.

By the time we had visas in hand and were waiting a few days for the right weather window, the full blown pandemic had happened. Tom flew home as his priorities, (absolutely fine with us), were with his family. Kris would stay on as our crew. We anxiously waited until Wednesday March 18th for the weather to cooperate. We then met the Puerto Capitan of Nueva Vallarta and cleared out of Mexico. 

At that time, the news from French Polynesia (FP) was mixed. The islands were still open and we were still welcome. But as all of you know, things change very quickly with Covid 19. Through emails from other sailors and friends monitoring the situation at home, we learned on day 3 that things had changed. Options now were to sail thousands of miles past FP and land who knows where since no other countries were open or stop in Tahiti, surrender your vessel and they would repatriate you to the US. Ok… neither of those options would work for us. It was a painful and tough decision but we turned north.

I called my brother, a retired Vice Admiral in Coronado, and let him know our status. He quickly arranged a dock at his Yacht Club for us upon arrival in San Diego. Just one small detail… we had to get there.

As any old salt knows “Northing is tough!”. There was quite the storm brewing on the Baja Peninsula so we headed nearly 400 miles west offshore to try to skirt the worst of it. For 3 days we clawed our way north barely making way. The 10-12’ waves, coming from the north, more than overpowered our engine and kept us at less than 2 kts. Sailing was the only way. We had to tack back and forth, back and forth and back and forth to make any ground. On day 3, we reviewed the new forecast and it called for a doubling of wind and waves from the north. We felt defeated… We had a brief crew meeting and made the decision to try our luck going back to Mexico. Cabo San Lucas was a mere 200 miles away.  We loved Mexico and the folks we met there were part of our love for the country.

Now we knew we could not “legally” go back but we felt a bit desperate. I called my brother to tell him our decision and he merely had to say “have you talked to the people in Hawaiii about going there?” Those few words told me - DO NOT GO BACK TO MEXICO! I quickly had visions of the Mexican Navy - out of Cabo - boarding us, arresting us etc… Mexico had just started getting very, very serious about the pandemic. Perhaps this would not have happened but everything thing seemed so crazy and we were hearing bits and pieces of all sorts of scary stories.

Ok, let’s turn west and go another 2500 miles to Hilo, HI! When crossing the Pacific on an unplanned route that is better crossed later in the season is your best option; clearly something is going wrong in your world. We asked our weather router for yet another forecast for west this time and we turned Salpare to a course of 272 degrees true. 

The waves were a bit more off our beam and we started making way. We have read nearly every book and article about Pacific passages and had planned on motoring 30-40% of the time in light air. But that would be for a southern Pacific Crossing. The passage we were undertaking to Hawaii  is typically sailed in May and June when the weather patterns have stabilized. Well, we didn’t have much of a choice on this; we had to go.

For the next 21 days, we sailed in 20-25 kts true with gusts higher and full ocean conditions. I heard and thought the word “relentless” many, many times during those 3 weeks. If you have been in these winds in the Salish Sea, consider what the seas can build to with an endless fetch. I may be prone to overestimating wave height but when Jeff looks out at the sea and says “My God these are so big; and they just keep coming. I’ve never seen seas like this” well, you can imagine how I saw them.

We sailed with a double-reefed main and a 30% jib for 21 days straight. We averaged 6 kts for the entire 3200 miles of the full passage rising high above on the crest then sometimes sliding sideways down the other side. The noise of the breaking waves was deafening at times and when we did those big catywampus slides it was downright scary. We had an inflatable MOB pole on our port side upper rail. It was ripped off on one of those slides; nothing left but a string. 

After a few weeks of this, we were a bit more nonchalant when we would come up and get a watch report. Same old same old we would say. We staggered like drunks, hanging on for every step. Cooking was an adventure and more than once I was thrown across the cabin and landed on the other side with a bowl of food  - “hey honey, how about tossed pasta tonight!”.

We arrived in Hilo, HI under the dark cloud of being a non-resident of the island during the pandemic. We came to Radio Bay to check in and all was going fairly well. We had an additional 14 day quarantine (I know, crazy since we were out for 24 days), we could order take out food, make a trip to town for necessities and use the head facilities on land. On day 5, all that changed as the Governor was taking flack for not “tracking the people coming in to the islands”. That was directed to those flying in but the backlash hit us. They confined us to our boats and posted security guards! Of course, we were the safest people to visit their island but that didn’t matter. The fear of the pandemic on the island was palpable. The Department of Transportation also closed the Bay to incoming vessels. It felt a bit hostile and more than uncomfortable.

On day 12, after many emails with different authorities, it was determined that we could travel to another island as long as we would do ANOTHER 14 day quarantine. We agreed and took off the next day for the island of Oahu.

We had a beautiful sail to Oahu making terrific time though the much dreaded Allenuihaha Channel. We arrived at our new home in Ko Olina Marina. The resort is closed but the grounds and beaches look wonderful to walk on and swim. Well, we think they will be as we have to wait a mere 9 more days of quarantine to find out.

If you have questions or would like more information on how we outfitted Salpare for our Pacific Crossing, our email is 

fransharp@comcast.net

Freedom

At this moment, we are arguably a handful of the most free people on the planet. That’s not written in any grandiose manner; more of a bewildering statement of fact. We will reach land later today in Hilo, Hawaii.

3170 miles from leaving Puerto Vallarta. A bit of a crossed path as we headed southwest and then north, then a short bit east before settling on due west. You know that story. We have been at sea for 23 days and sailed every one of them. Most Pacific passages have you motoring 30-40% of the time; but this was not like most Pacific crossings.

We can’t thank enough all of our family and friends who tracked us, emailed, texted, sent good thoughts and worried about us. You are our Ohana, our tribe and many times our strength.

This passage wrung every emotion out of us - fearful to frustrated; demoralized to defeated; awestruck to inspired. We fully know the feeling of being a small speck on the mind-blowingly expansive ocean. We also know the amount of energy, love and life you can fit in that small speck.

We have crossed the Pacific Ocean on Salpare.
We have crossed the Pacific Ocean on Salpare.

Aloha,
Fran, Jeff and Kris

Salpare Odyssey Update

With less than a week to go....this will probably be MY last post, as the next one will come directly from Fran Sharp - Carolyn

From Fran:
"We are now on day 18 of this journey and less than 700 miles to go! It’s a rare moonlit night with fairly calm seas and winds. I can only remember one other night like this on this passage and it was interrupted by squalls and winds. Nope, we are definitely not on the southern passage where the warm trade winds carry you like a magic carpet to the islands...

Depending on the winds ahead of us, we should arrive Wednesday or Thursday. My sister, Mary Ann, has been working hard to find us information on arrivals. She finally tracked down the District Manager of HI DOT and he is now organizing the arrival of our boats. We have about 10 in our fleet of northern puddle jumpers. We shared, by email, all the information with the incoming boats and they super appreciated it. Four have now arrived and over the next week, the rest of us will set foot on land in Hilo.

The folks there are more than happy to help us and understand we pose little to no threat virus-wise. They do have to follow the rules and we will have a 14 day quarantine but we will be allowed a trip a day to land for groceries, laundry etc... I think Babba, the Manager, is happy to have something to do as commercial traffic has stopped for a bit. He emails with to of our boats responding to our questions and gives my sister a daily report on arrivals. We could not ask for a better welcome!

We are looking forward to seeing the other boats that we have come to know while in Mexico. It’s a terrific group of cruisers ranging from Darwind, the 19 year old, solo sailor from Alaska to Carpe Ventus, the 65 year old solo sailor; to Ticket to Ride a fast, state of the art catamaran to Gudgeon, a small, simple sloop. They are our tribe.

Those who continued down to French Polynesia have an entirely different welcome. Many continued although they knew the islands were closed. As I’m on the big email list for the puddle jumpers, I get to see the situation. The islanders, who depend on tourists for their livelihood, have pleaded to the cruisers to not come to their islands. They do not have the provisions, fuel etc... necessary to supply the additional people. They also do not have adequate medical facilities if the outbreak continues. The islanders are scared of what the future months will bring.

Currently in the harbor of Nuka Hiva, where we would have landed, there are 100 boats anchored. No one can go ashore and you cannot even swim - not that you would want to with all those boats anchored. They are now turning away those that are still arriving. You must go to Tahiti and surrender your boat or just keep going. It’s thousands of miles more to New Zealand - who may or may not take you in. I fear the damage being done by those who put their “dreams” above the reality on the ground will last for years within French Polynesia. To say we are happy with our decision to cross to Hawaii is an understatement. And, as my friend Kila would say “boo hoo... you have to go to Hawaii”.

Aboard Salpare all is going well. We catch up on sleep during the day, problem solve different issues that arise on the boat, Kris serenades us with his ukelele, we read and I do a lot of cooking. And, always or thoughts on all of you at home and what the future holds...It’s a strange existence this passage making.

My next update will be when we reach land!!!!"

Halfway...

Yes, folks that is more than halfway to Hilo! We are on the downhill side of the trip now. Well, I wish it was downhill but the seas have other ideas. As I write this, we just got toppled again as another “graybeard” came at us from a different angle.

Before this trip, I had only seen videos of the much feared “graybeards”. These are big ocean waves that have breakers at the top. With higher winds, the foam from the breakers spews off and creates white (gray) beards across the rest of the waves. Dramatic and a bit scary; but I have to admit we just kinda shrug our shoulders and now say - same old same old.

We are on Day 13 of the Odyssey. We have only run our motor about 20 minutes (yesterday; I’ll tell you the story below) in those 13 days. Salpare loves to sail and with Jeff trimming her sails just right we are making amazing time. We have another boat 400 miles ahead of us and Kris was beginning to get a bit competitive; wondering if we could catch them. You know what they say; two sailboats on any water heading in the same direction is a race!

Yesterday was exciting for two reasons. First we had a visitor! We have seen many Pacific White Sided Dolphins throughout the trip and I think they are thrilled to have this big white toy to splash and play with! There have been whales somewhere... but we would not be able to see them in these seas. So out flies a bird - a pretty big bird. Texting with my sister Mary Ann and Carolyn, we identified it as a Brown Boobie. For 10 minutes it was high drama with it trying to land on our spreaders(cross pieces on our mast). With us tumbling about, he would hit a stay or sail and I would shriek in horror and yell guidance to it; very stressful! Finally, he learned to land on the outer tip of the lower spreader then slide down it when we heeled and bonk in to the mast. There he would huddle and rest. Later, he hopped down to our spinnaker sail bag, tucked his head under his wing and slept through the night; waves drenching him, winds blowing him and the boat heeling under him. We named him Sula; that is his genus. Jeff and others through texting found many other names for him that related to his common name. Think chocolate and breasts and you get the idea.

The next morning, the winds had died down and I went forward to shake out the #2 reef (this is how we shorten our sail in big winds - we reef it). Sula awoke and stood inches next to me and was very inquisitive about what I was doing. However, everything was about to change... The bolt that holds the boom to the mast had worked its way out and the boom was free hanging by the halyards! For those of you who are not sailors - THIS IS NOT GOOD. The boom should always be attached! Luckily, I looked down and there was the bolt.

We all sprang in to action; insure no lines are in the water, start engine, dowse sails, rig halyards and sheets to maneuver the heavy boom around, get tools etc... within 90 minutes we had it fixed and cleaned up some other rigging issues that would have popped up eventually. Very exciting - ok I would not call it that at all!

Are you wondering what Sula was doing throughout this? Once we sprang in to action; he flew the coop. I’m pretty sure he wanted to get away from these crazy-ass humans.

We also setup our generator station and Salpare Gas Station. We had been pulling out the generator and fuel when needed and moving the life raft etc... Really tough and a bit dangerous in these rolly seas to be moving heavy items. You could fall and get hurt or break the beloved Garmin chart plotter or worst of all - bleed on my boat! So the aft lazerette seats now hold the generator and its accouterments all tied down and secure. Makes our life a lot easier!

We get information about what is happening at home in regards to Covid. Not even sure if I’m using the correct terminology when I write this. When we learned that Century Link Field is being turned into a field hospital we just sat in dazed silence. Struggling to understand what all of you are going through and wrap our minds around this new world. We still don’t know what lies ahead of us with clearing in to Hawaii. At this point, I don’t mind any additional quarantine/isolation as it keeps us away from everyone. Not exactly the normal response from folks who will have been at sea for almost a month. We have 3 boats ahead of us who will let us know the status in Hilo.

We think of our family and friends on land all the time and send love and strength,

Fran, Jeff and Kris

Fran and Jeff’s Twilight Zone Update

“Imagine if you will... a “young” couple takes off on their dream cruise of a lifetime. Only to find there is no place to land”

I’ve been hearing (reading actually) from so many friends and family about their tracking of us! It seems with little else to do, our Odyssey is providing plenty of entertainment. Glad we could help out that way!

We now have less than 2000 miles to Hilo and we are just flying along. Jeff sure knows how to trim the sails to make Salpare fly. We left Puerto Vallarta 9 days ago and headed southwest for 2 days; then north northwest for 3-4 days hopelessly trying to get to San Diego; then east to Cabo for about 10 minutes and are now are on day 4 of the route to Hilo, Hawaii or as Jeff’s dad called it “How are ya”. Apparently we wanted to check the box on all the cardinal directions of the compass.

I have read just about every book on crossing the Pacific out there... you know... star filled skies, phosphorescence, freedom of the ocean. Yep, that is all true. But what I have never read is a story of a passage as fu%&ed as ours. Having the option of crossing 2500 miles of the Pacific in a not-so-great weather window as your best option. Well, something is clearly changed in the world.

As many of you have seen on our tracker, we are in a red blob. Red means sustained winds of 20 plus. If it showed gusts like my offshore version does, we would be in dark, blood red bordering on black. Anyone see a warning in those colors???? Salpare has sailed incredibly through nights of 20-25 kts sustained winds gusting to 27. And the best is yet to come. Until Sunday, we have increasing conditions - winds, waves and my anxiety! Not sure what the guys on the boat are most sick of.

Life in the red blob can be comical at times. Every step must be calculated and chosen carefully or you will end up on the other side of the boat. Cooking is similar to a Cirque du Soleil show but not quite as elegant. I caught Kris laughing the other day while on watch. Apparently he thought it was mighty funny that in the midst of this maelstrom, I poked my head up the companionway and asked “mustard or mayo on your sandwich”. We have to be a bit civilized, don’t we?

During the day we try to improve conditions aboard, update weather forecasts and catch up on much needed sleep. We cover each other’s watches seamlessly depending on what the crew needs to do to improve their life. We could not ask for better crew than Kris. We lured him on to Salpare with dreams of a gentle trade wind Pacific Crossing where he could play his ukulele and be welcomed by Polynesian women on the other side. Instead, its a tough ride right back to where he lives - Hilo!! Can’t make this stuff up. Never a complaint or grumble and always helping. We are so glad he is here with us. And we will be happy to help him rebuild his pig fence back at his home in Hilo.

Each morning and night, Jeff tunes in on our SSB radio to listen and report on the NET. There are 3 other boats in front of us and we all check in and see how each other is doing. We have a good 500 miles between each of us so social distancing is not a problem.

Then we are either on watch, backup to the watchman or sleeping. The days go fast; the nights sometimes not so fast. It’s hard to describe what night watch is like. It’s completely black as even the moon is keeping is in self isolation. Only the instruments light the cockpit. The roar of the waves breaking (yes,breaking) and the loudness of the water rushing by is sometimes deafening. AirPods playing disco helps me deal with it as well as texting to my sister for over 2 hours. At 7 kts, it feels like 50 mph; just racing along. Kris even said it felt like we were planing on the waves. Hard to do with a 7000 lb keel hanging below you but I said Jeff was great at sail trim!

So, that is today’s report. Don’t worry, you do not have to subscribe to this show or give money. Just send good karma our way and please please please take care of yourselves

Heading West Now!

Wishing them much improved conditions as they change course again...

For those of you following Jeff and Fran’s Odyssey (it used to be called our dream cruise) there’s been another change of plans. After battling big seas and high winds for the last 24 hours, we realize we cannot make it north to San Diego. Both seas and winds will nearly double and continue through the weekend. Time for other options.

We first turned to Cabo. Then thought better of it. It’s too scary what could happen there. They easily seize the boat and maybe us. No one is kidding around in this new Corona world.

So we turned again and are now headed to Hilo, Hawaii. 2300 miles with better weather the whole way.

Thanks for following this crazy journey and hope all at home are doing well.

Clawing North to San Diego

As I write this, we are clawing our way north towards San Diego. Yes, San Diego where my brother has a dockslip waiting for us and US Customs is awaiting our arrival. They were terrific to chat with on the phone and I don’t expect any issues clearing back in.

As I was recently reminded - read this in a crusty, old salt’s voice - Yup, Northing is Tuff. No shit Sherlock. 

Some of the other Puddle Jumpers who left 4 days before us are heading to Hawaii. It’s not the 2500 mile crossing to the islands that makes that a no go option for us. Heck, that’s what we came out here to do! It’s the uncertainty of another island... It would be at least 3 weeks to get there... what is said now about it being fine to go there may not be the case then. We want a bit more of certainty.

We have 900 miles to go and it will be at least a week. There are bigger winds at the Baja Coast so we are staying 300 miles offshore to avoid them. Typically, we would just duck in to a cove in big winds. But these are not typical times and we cannot enter or go in to Mexico. That coast has 2 Mexican Navy patrols so we just can’t take that chance.

Sailors will understand the challenge we face this coming week. So, the winds are from the NW and pretty strong. Waves are their usual ocean size - GIGANTIC (just my humble opinion here). So, we have to tack back and forth. If you look at our track, you’ll see it looks like a stair step. Head as close to north as we as we can on the west tack which eventually takes us about 20 miles off course. Then we can only try to go perpendicular to our course to get back to it. It’s complicated and a sailing thing.

Spirits are good onboard and the more we hear of the issues on land the more we appreciate the beauty and freedom out here. The water is a remarkable indigo blue, we get a dolphin show once a day and its sunny and warm. It’s hysterical to try to walk with a 20 degree constant heeling of the boat. And, cooking... well lets just say its a challenge. We are so happy to have Kris with us! He is a calming influence and a darn good ukulele player! One of his notable sayings is “Love What Is”. I really, really try to do that when I look at the big waves but...

Folks are asking us through emails and text messages what we will do next. Most who know me know that I like a plan! But, honestly we have no real pulse for how things are at home. We are focused on our task at hand - get the three of us and Salpare back to the US. 

Feel free to email us at sharps@myiridium.net; we would love to hear from you. No pics please - its already slow enough on our SAT phone. Or comment on this post and Carolyn will send them to me. These are the types of things that I love to read while on my 10pm to 2am watch.

A Tearful Change of Plans

Tears flow as I write these words. We knew when we left Mexico that the status of cruising yachts in French Polynesia was in flux. Like the rest of the world, the fear of a Covid-19 epidemic in their islands controlled theirs and our destinies. I’m quite sure that the history of colonization and the diseases it brought would play a part in their decisions. Why wouldn’t it - disease wiped out up to 90% of their island people.

And, islands are weird and vulnerable. Unfortunately, the cruise ships that bring tourists to Polynesia also bring their supplies. Stop the cruise ships and rationing begins. This is the backdrop of our decision to take a 90 degree jog north and head for San Diego. The options that the FP government offered us were not tenable. Either sail past to some other place that might take us - not sure where that would be. Or sail to Papeete (capital of Tahiti and another 1000 miles), surrender our boat so they can keep it safe and fly us home. We could not bear to lose Salpare.

So, we are headed back to San Diego. It will be a 7-8 day “uphill” passage; meaning upwind and not the funnest sailing to get there. We will be about 500 miles off shore as weather and the Mexican Navy preclude us from traveling the coast.

From there we will rest our hearts and minds and make a new plan. We have our home (Salpare) and each other - still a perfect world for me.