DAY 7. SQUALL ALLEY. COSTA RICA TO THE MARQUESAS
At sea. Thursday, March 25, 2010

It is late morning (Day 7, 25 Mar 10). We are sailing pleasantly and
rapidly at 5 knots S on a cooling WSW breeze and under sunny skies. The
deck and cockpit have been tidied up and washed down, the anti-barnacle
line deployed on each side of the hull and then recovered, the cabin swept
and wiped down of salt condensation, berths straightened and, as reward,
two cups of espresso along with lots of very ripe mango. It seems too much
even to contrast this with yesterday and last night.

We must after all be in the Doldrums. We ran the engine most of the night
to try and get farther S through the ITCZ. It was Squall Alley! On all
sides of us there were black patches of cloud and rain that obscured the
horizons. We dodged around them as much as possible, but at night this is
difficult. When the winds suited us, we hoisted sail again. But soon we
would have to drop the jib and/or reef in the mainsail. It is always a
dicey call about when to undertake these tasks. If you are sailing along
at 5 kts, who wants to cut off that enjoyable progress? But, leave it too
late, and you have to go forward in the gusts of wind, sheeting rain and
splashing over the bow since the jib is guaranteed not going to come all
the way down on its own, and you will be perched on the bowsprit trying to
wrestle with red sailcloth.

Discretion is the better part of valour; last night we shortened sail
early each time, and before dark we put a reef in the main again and
doused the jib on deck. You can't determine those squalls exactly at
night; even in daylight it's tough. At one point we were even sailing with
only a reefed mainsail.

During the night we were pleased that we had prepared. On the one hand, we
remained under sail for the whole night. But at times, near the squalls,
the wind would die suddenly or be replaced by a muggy, hot breath from
somewhere else that soon had our boom slamming back and forth as the boat
became nearly motionless and turned sideways to the swells. After a while,
maybe thirty minutes or an hour, a real breeze would pick up again, if not
always from exactly the same quarter. At several times during the night we
were overtaken by torrential downpours as the centre of a squall passed
over us. Going into the cockpit even in our foul weather jackets did not
prevent a total soaking. Of course, after the squall went through the wind
changed and the tiller or the windvane steering needed to be adjusted. Oh,
for a covered cockpit! At least, with the jib nicely tied on deck, there
was no need to go forward since the other two sails are 'self-tending'.
For much of the time the automatic steering kept us on course. But still,
by this morning when I finally got a cup of java in my hand, it had begun
to seem like a long night. So, tell me again why we're doing this?

On this route we are going to be sailing close to The Galapagos. We shall
probably make a stop and get fresh produce, top up our fuel tanks and jugs
and take on water. We know Wreck Bay at Isla San Cristóbal from our visit
to the archipelago four years ago. We hear that it has become more
bureaucratic and therefore more expensive. But we might just be able to
get by with a 72-hour Port Captain's pass and be allowed to replenish. We
shall save on the price of fuel if it is still under $2 for a 4-litre
gallon (delivered).

It will give us a break too after a week or more at sea. Other boats have
reported taking over 20 days just to get to The Galapagos from Panamá
City. We are now about 300 Nm away, but since it is only about 600 Nm
altogether, we can't say it's just around the corner. By the time we get
there we shall have eaten or thrown away all our soft fruit. Until then we
are living like kings, at least from that point of view.