FIRST BIG CROSSING: Day 12

We're heading South.

We should reach the ITCZ current position in about 24 hours.

The ICTZ looks like a puzzle when you down load the grib charts ( these are weather and wind patterns we email out for everyday and they are sent back to us on the radio) only its a puzzle, that has no set rules.
You try to pick the best way though the maze of wind and when the light blue arrows ( indicating little to no wind) surround your intended position you guesstimate that you will turn on your engine and run, trying to figure out how long you could possibly motor for and how far you could get.  The object of the game is to clear the doldrums as fast as possible--pop out the other side and cruise the final 1000 miles on a nice beam or broad reach. If you end up clearing the Doldrums too too far west you risk having to beat back to the Marquesas with the wind on your nose-and that's not the South Pacific party you were hoping for!

This morning after a rainy, dark and lumpy night, Jon studied the grib files and we hummed and hawed and decided to go for it. South we go and plunge into the band and hope they narrow in the few days it will take for us to get in position. As soon as we turned south the skies bumped up with big fat fast moving squalls. We must have gone though ten so far today. Not big ones, we never saw more than 26 knots of wind and no thunder or lightening-just a lot of misty rain and pushy seas. The kids loved it-everyone got to cool off on deck and rinse away the sticky salty sweat of the past few days.

There are a few running issues...no passage is complete without them. This rain is making it impossible to use our solar AND our generator now--so battery power is a real issue. We will have to resort to running the engine for a few hours just to cool down the fridge. I had packed everything as carefully as I could and tried not too buy too much frozen stuff--a shutdown of a fridge-system on a boat is ALWAYS a possibility... So far we are okay--just a little warmer than usual. Our fridge is an old one and we could not afford to upgrade to the newer more energy efficient models-but the thing is a work horse and even though I have been starving it of full cycles in order to protect our batteries--it's still chillin.'

After 12 days in the hotness, we are starting to run low on fresh vegs and fruits. That good ol' salt and cankersore experience you get at sea for a few weeks should be setting in soon. I make a ton of stews, chicken, beef, bean, veg, and keep it fresh by making a lot of grated cabbage salads and we still have oranges galore and things like potatoes but the other stuff fresh bits are on their last week or so. The very thought of spinach salads makes me want to cry!

Water. We have been using about 6 gallons a day of water from our tanks. We carry 140. Because of the poor sun and battery issues we have only been able to make about 2 gallons of h2o a day. Ours is also an ancient water maker that only puts out a gallon an hour. This is something I would LOVE to upgrade one day but the experience of conserve it like you mean it--because your life depends on it--is a poignant one. Last night we reached empty on our 40 gallon tank. We have been using about 6 gallons a day of fresh water. We drink about 4--the other two are rinsing dishes and the once a week 4 gallons of solar shower water for a crew hose down. We need to make more water but if it keeps being this cloudy, we will need to use less water. Which seems impossible but obviously is not. We already wash all the dishes in salt and make sure we turn the water pressure OFF after each use, so there are no accidents and you have to THINK before using fresh water. It is amazing how much we all take it for granted. As if fresh water just comes out of taps because thats how nature made it.

At this very moment Jon and Hunter are swabbing the decks clean and designing a water catchment system for these little squalls we keep hitting. Daddy and Hunter's plan is ropes on the deck and funneling into our tanks and mine is to haul in the mainsheet and put a bucket under the big fold in the reefed sail. Water is caught by the sail and funneled into the fold and then we can scoop it up in buckets and pour it into our tanks. We will see which works better or maybe can use both.

In an hour we touch base with another cruiser a few days ahead of us. We can barely make them out on the radio but we are hoping to get their position and see how they are making out in the Doldrums.

So, to our faithful, virtual "crew" members out there...break out the foul weather gear, get that tea thermos going and warm up the Nooks--its going to be another wet night!

Kids corner:
What is your favorite thing about being out here?

Kai: Just how peaceful it is and being around my family. Being out here in the middle of nowhere doesn't freak me out-it's just really cool.

Hunter: Basically what Kai said. I can't even explain it. I love it when it rains and you can take a natural shower. Its so not polluted out here and the air is just amazing. There isn't any dirt or dust. When I look out at the ocean I just like to think about what it`s like to be a fish.

FIRST BIG CROSSING: Day 11

24 hours- 160.9 NM
Our biggest day so far!

We bake bread!

Last night, the rock and roll, big-jumble swell came back in force--but it didn't bug us.
When Hunter can't sleep, she simply puts on her night gear (rain pants, jacket, harness, headlamp, PFD, Nook, mug of hot cocoa, 2 chocolate cookies...) and joins me. We wait for the dolphin to come and visit and dampen our hair in a light rain shower, counting the flying fish that land on our deck. We snuggle and laugh about all the funny things happening in her book. Talk about the Marquesas and what it means to have been "colonized" and why it is called French Polynesia. She wants to know all about breadfruit and how we will eat it when we find it there. She asks me if she can go to theater school in London and study acting because she wants to be "serious" actress someday and tells me she also hopes she can work as a check-out girl in a grocery store ... I tell her how fortunate this is, because  those two professions will go hand-in-hand.

When I can't sleep on my off watch, I trust I will have a really great sleep the next time.
I lie awake, appreciating how hard Pura Vida is working in the swell.
I pat her bulkhead and tell her I love her.

Accepting that the good/bad moments are as endless and unpredictable as the waves...THIS is the trick.
We have put our expectations in an empty bottle of red wine... and thrown it into the sea.

In a rolling galley, I baked bread in the 90*  degree heat and staggering humidity-and when the yeast wouldn't activate and we realized that the new, fresh, yeast brought down to us by Grandma Sara, was stashed under the bunk where our good Captain was sleeping- we let it be. 
A good crew would never want to wake any soul from a worthy doze, so we made soda bread.
Hard as a curling stone it was, but at Sea, we accept destiny with salty resolve-and smear it in plenty of butter.

Which brings us to the ITCZ...
At the moment, it looks as if the Zone has swelled to an epic proportion and we may very well be facing a stint in doldrum purgatory-no matter what we plot or try. We have been steering our course (since Cabo) to arrive exactly where it looked smallest but it seems, the equatorial gods are playing the shell-game with the band and everywhere you think it was or will be-it's not. Oh well. The weather does as it will, predictions made over more than a few days out (especially in volatile areas) are never very accurate.
We may get lucky or we may get pasted--who knows?
As long as we smear it in plenty of butter--I'm sure we'll be fine.

Kai's depressing fact:
More than 3.5 billion people depend on the ocean for their primary source of food. In 20 years, this number could double to 7 billion.
If this is true, by the time I am 31 years old...there will be a barren ocean and a lot of hungry and unhealthy people.
If things keep going the way they are now and we don't make changes about how we fish and what we fish for...this will become every nation's biggest problem.
How will they feed their people?

Hunter's hints:
One day when you go to the beach and you see anything that's plastic and not biodegradable, take it home with you and recycle it. If we do something good for the ocean every day, it will help. People used to think it was okay to kill whales and we almost made a lot of them extinct but we have learned that we cant do this and made people educated that you don`t eat whales or use products made form whales and now many species are starting to bounce back. 
Well, the same thing is happening to fish and coral reefs and turtles so we have to do the right thing like we did with whales. We need to make sure we protect them so they will go on and on and be part of our planet for ever. Many of our lives depend on the sea so we need to protect it. We should stop mindlessly killing fish because we do need them. It is okay to eat them but we have to be responsible and not overfish and pollute. We can make it better, like we did with the whales and cleaning up our air and making human rights and stuff so we can do it with the ocean too.
To my friends on Bowen, try snorkeling this summer and tell me what you see around the island. The best places to see baby fish (juvenile) are in the rocks near the shore.
At first you may not see many fish because it takes awhile to notice things underwater but the more you do  it, the more you will find things you did not see the first time. PS. I miss you guys!


And a PS from MOM- I just type. They say all this stuff.

Sylvia Earle talks about the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, and the connectedness of our largely land-based lives with the sea:

FIRST BIG CROSSING: Day 10

24 hours-125 NM

OMG!
Who flipped the switch?
Life is SO awesome at sea!

Last night, I was sitting on deck, in the rain and the miserable swell, obsessing over a ship that was lurking on the horizon. I couldn't pick him up on the radar, he was so far away and I couldn't tell how he was moving. For ten minutes he would keep pace with us, then he seemed to change direction.

"Go to bed" Captain ordered when he saw how amp'd and jumpy I was getting. "This is totally fine...just go get some rest."

I slunk below, feeling tired and tweaked. I crawled in our bunk and pulled the pillow over my head and listened to the boat creak and bash and the waves hiss and bubble all around us. "This is sort of sucking, you know." I grumbled at the ocean. Then I fell asleep.

I woke up three hours later feeling like a new person. I pulled on the Helly's and went up top to relieve Jon of his watch.

He was standing on deck, looking out at the dark night with shining eyes. I love this man. He will always make it calm and good, whatever it is, he will find a way. "The seas are way better, " I said, looking around. The swell was settled into something more organized. We were moving faster, too.

I put on my glasses and looked at the instruments as my eyes adjusted on the darkness. "You changed the heading" I said.
 Jon yawned and stretched and peeled off his night watch gear. "The ITCZ jumped way up and I want us to have more Westing before we hit it... but it gave us a way better angle."

I could feel it. Pura Vida had been slogging along with the wind directly behind us for a few days. Running like that, gives her too much sea room to move in, especially on those big swells--that's part of what was making it so uncomfortable. Now we were still running but with the wind slightly abaft of the starboard quarter-this gives her more stablitily in the waves-which were better anyway, normal rollers (not great hulking boxes tumbling from all directions) and we were doing better than our boat speed...flying along at 7.5 knots in a 17 knot wind. "Wicked" I said, grinning and taking the hot tea thermos from Jon as he went below for some sleep.

The rest of the night the watches were heaven. It rained but it was a warm, clean rain and it washed the deck. Pura Vida was cooking along now, not getting bashed to bits and everyone below was asleep.

By morning, we were all on deck in a merry mood. The sun finally broke the clouds and Jon announced that in an hour, we would reach our 1000 mile mark. We celebrated by bathing in buckets of 80* F sea water, soaped and shampooed and rinsed off with the solar shower and combed out 10 days worth of dreadlocks.

The swell was what a normal swell should run like and the wind was still perfect and we toasted our 1000 mile mark with Bloody Ceasars for us and Fantas for the kids. The rest of the day we lay on deck in the sun and talked about the books we've been reading and listened to music and compared the size and lengths and possible genealogy  of our collective toes.
What could be better?

Today and tonight's thoughts will be turning to the ITCZ. According to Jon's calculations, and the weather reports, we should be reaching it sometime around midnight. The ITCZ (inter tropical convergence zone), otherwise known as the "doldrums" has been the bane of seamen for as long as men have put sails to the wind.

This helpful image is from In the Wake of the Belgica, where you can read much more about the tradewinds and doldrums. This helps explain, also, why so much of our seemingly localized activity actually affects the world on a much larger scale.

This band of wonky air (as in none) runs parallel to the equator  and jumps around on a daily basis. The area is also subject to unstable weather, squalls, thunder and lightening, --very nasty business, when one is on a boat. The rule of thumb is to cross it, wherever it is narrowest and get the heck through it as fast as you can, hopefully punching though to the other side, where one can quickly pick up the next set of trade winds--these would be the South East Trades--and continue on your way. Think of it as getting off of one highway, passing though a rough bit of town (where you might get mugged if you hang out for too long) and finding the next , new highway. Only no street signs and no AAA.

All is  peaceful and swell and we are onto the next stage of our adventure...
and some people thought we might get bored out here!

Kai's ocean trivia for the day

1. Eighty per cent of all pollution in seas and oceans comes from land-based activities.
2. Three-quarters of the world's mega-cities are by the sea.
3. By 2010, 80 per cent of people will live within 60 miles of the coast.
4. Death and disease caused by polluted coastal waters costs the global economy US$12.8 billion a year. The annual economic impact of hepatitis from tainted seafood alone is US$7.2 billion.

These facts are important because they mean we have to look at how we treat the oceans not just for the health of the seas but for our health as well.
I feel excited and happy that we have gone a thousand miles using only the wind.

Hunter's helpful hints:
Be an ocean friendly pet owner!
Don't flush cat litter! It contains pathogens (yucky disease bugs) that can harm marine animals!
Buy only ocean sustainable pet foods!
Never release store bought fish into the wild!

Usually when you live in a house you do normal stuff like go to bed and stay asleep but we don't we can wake up in the middle of the night for night watch or dawn watch. you can nap in the middle of the day or eat in the middle of the night. Sometimes I go on night watch and watch a movie with dad or read books and talk with mom and eat chocolates and drink tea. I get to see a lot of stars and stuff all the time and mostly when you live in your house you forget to look at the stars or hardly ever see a sunrise-unless you play hockey on a team like  my friend Peyton. Oh and to my friends on Bowen, Myah and Rhiannon and Grace and everyone if I could share one thing with you from my life on the boat it would be-getting to be on night watch and seeing the dolphins in the phosphorescence at night. It;s really really pretty and I think you would love it.

Captain's corner:
Not so much reaching the ITCZ but reaching and skirting around the far northern edge of it. The slippery serpent that is the doldrums (the band of weirdness between the northern and southern trades) is typically between 3 and 6 degrees north latitude. As of last night according to the GRIB files downloaded off of the SSB/HAM radio waves (think, morse code) it jumped up to 10 degrees latitude. That is a leap of some 250 miles! Not only did it jump north but it broadened so that it is now about 600 miles across just where we would be hitting in it if we didn't sneak around the northern edge. This is what we have been saving our 90 gallons of diesel for but that is much too far across for us to motor. The options would be to go for it and motor straight south and hope it shrinks in width, or sneak around the top and continue westing and wait for it to move further south before finding a spot to cross. We are going to go for the second option. The danger is if the fat section of the ITCZ moves west with us. Keep your fingers crossed for it moving back into it's normal range in the next couple of days and we should be in great shape!

Just an example of wind charts from BuoyWeather.com - this is a couple of years old, but gives an idea of how the ITCZ can fluctuate.

FIRST BIG CROSSING: Day 9

24 hours run- 124 Nm.

Wow. Really tired now.
We weren't expecting a picnic or anything ...but this overcast skies, rolling around in steep irregular seas with a wind that comes and goes makes it hard to have any of that sun-tanning, French learning, Pizza-making thing I was hoping to get in the trades. We've done lumpy and bumpy before but this particular version-BIGGER- has set a  new standard for us.

The worst part isn't our lot, we're tough enough cookies to put up with quite a bit, but it's the concern for our old girl that makes for the sleeplessness-even if sleep only comes in a half hour snatch every three to six hours.

Every night, for the past few moonless, starless, mostly windless affairs, we spend our watches hanging on and leaning out of the cockpit to shine a flashlight up into the rigging and make sure all is cool:
"Shrouds tight?" check.
"Turnbuckles good?" Check.
"Chain plates still imbedded in deck?" Check. Praise Jesus.

But last night as I cast my light across our big headsail I saw something squiggly about the foot.
We are running wing on wing, and the big Genoa is poled way out to the side, so I couldn't really get a good bead on what it was.

Given the seas were a black and rolling cauldron of merciless doom, I forgo the journey to the foredeck on the life-lines. The sun would rise in an hour and I could have a look then.

An hour later I saw the problem. All the slogging around had caused our stitching to unravel at the foot of the sail. Hmmmm. This is not an epic disaster but we are a LONG way from done here. Three more weeks of headsail un-stitchery is not something we want.

Jon got up, had coffee and checked in on the SSB Net--the propagation was terrible due to the weather around us--so we didn't get to have our morning pep-talk with Manta-bummer. Jon looked tired. Neither of us had gotten any sleep the past few days. He had already sorted (I never use the F-word on board, "FIXED", in case it might jinx us) but he had administered to a number of things, that were vital to our survival and it looked like there were going to be new things to add to the list for today.
I pointed out the sail.
"Crap"
..was Captains summation of the new one.

We tried to head up and take the sail down--its a self-furling one so its attached to the headstay--but the waves were huge and the wind was gusting to 20 and it was hard to keep the boat in the wind. We abandoned that idea after Jon got flogged by the jib sheets a few times in the face. The fastest to accomplish (but hardest physical plan) was to put a few blocking stitches in the seam while the sail was still up-which meant Jon climbing out onto the bowsprit and balancing on the top of the rails, with one arm wrapped around the forestay and a sail palm and needle in the other. Unable to do anything useful to help him, I stayed in the cockpit, adjusted the sheets as he needed, and yelled 'Hang on Honey" and " Big wave!" every five minutes.

Jon got it "sorted" and I made everybody a seaman's breakfast of pork chops and mashed potatoes and beans and more coffee and we looked out at the darkening sky around us. "Whose idea was this, anyway?" Jon asked, smiling at me.

Everyone pitched in and straightened up the boat. We duct-taped the computer to the table (to keep it from flying out the hatch) and everyone climbed in the big sea-berth we call "the nest", turned on the HOBBIT and took turns climbing up on deck to look around every 20 minutes.

It's not all bad.
And snuggling is one of the perks of sailing rough seas with a family--they make excellent padding.

Kai's Tips:
The BEST path to sustainable fisheries world-wide is to phase out large scale industrial fisheries in favor of artsenal fisheries.
This also makes more money go directly to fisherman and their families.
Artesnal fisherman are like the panga fisherman we saw in the Sea of Cortes.
They work together, using a multitude of fisherman who combine their catch for sale, they work mainly inshore, using small craft and relatively passive gear- not like long lining or seine nets that kill more than they catch- they also use outboards which mens they use relatively little fuel per unit of fish landed.
My mom told me the first part of this fact and it is a direct quote from, Daniel Pauly, director of UBC fisheries Center and project leader of "the Sea Around Us."

Hunter's hints:
Support groups that protect the oceans!
Check out:
OCEANWISE- A website that tells you what fish are okay to eat and what is endangered.


Captains corner:
In answer to Spencer's question (hey Buddy)... The duct tape usage has dwindled to virtually nil (except for keeping the laptop on the table). The reason being that we have a fresh supply purchased in Mexico and as it turns out it sticks to nothing but itself! Even with the sail sewing fiasco today (Suki is sweet, but I must have looked like the world's lamest pale gorilla swinging around up there trying to stitch fabric the consistency of shoe leather with one hand and a giant needle). Halfway through i thought... Duct Tape!!! Maybe that will do it and  I can stop perforating myself. Nope. 25 minutes of careful, meticulous taping and all it took was three thunderclap, wave induced, flogging/slatting bang, and the duct tape patch was gone. Ahhh well, back to the gorilla routine. So far, so good. Sorted.

FIRST BIG CROSSING: Day 8

24 hour run-111 Nm.

1 WEEK at SEA!

Lessons learned:

• Our boat and our Skipper totally rock.
• It's really freakin' bumpy out here.
• Don't expect your favorite ceramic Mexican coffee mug to make it to French Polynesia.
• Kids are happy wherever they are, as long as there is love and you laugh with them.

Life is a constant mind-bender out in the big blue.
The illusion is that having 11,987 feet of water under us means we're living on the edge; that at any moment, something could go awry and we would be powerless to control our future. Here's the bunny in the hat, though: Everyone sitting at home reading this is in the same situation.

The difference is, I can look six inches to my left and see my mortality flowing by at 7 knots...
and at home, it hides behind the door. We feel safe at home because we wear a lifejacket of familiar comforts and they give us the illusion that we are in control. Out here, we wear the life jackets and harnesses but the reality is, we KNOW we have to just hang on like you mean it and not be too stupid and the rest you kiss up to the universe. Whatever is gonna get you -you probably won't see coming. And the lifejackets won't make any difference.

We are always at the mercy of fate.

So go ahead, be brave and have some fun.

Back in the day -- Like, Hemingway's day -- the stories in the paper were about explorers and radicals, free thinkers and adventurers. Young men and women raced out to all corners of the globe to look fate in the eye and shake its hand. Overcoming fear of the unknown is a great and healthy thing for people to do.
Depressed?
Go camping for the weekend.
Learn to snowboard.
Try the water slide at the public pool...
Whatever, just let go of the reins, jump in, carpe diem, take the trip, climb the mountain, buy the goat farm, move to Hawaii, fall in love...

Adventure removes the glasses, cuts off the Soma dose, makes you bite the apple and discover you are always falling down a rabbit hole -- even if you don't know it.

This is really what we have learned in week one.
...That and pressure cookers are a godsend and canning your own food is delicious and totally worth the effort.


KAI:
Albatross live at sea. They only go to shore to lay their eggs. Albatross are gorgeous, they look like really cool seagulls, only much bigger and more serious.

Hunter:
My favorite part of the first week was having the Boobie birds hitch a ride with us. We also found a baby squid on the deck one morning while daddy was doing his morning boat inspection.I took some pictures that I can post when we get to the Marquesas.

Captain's corner:
.. And then there are the other unknowns, like why is the bilge pump going off, why won't the hydro-generator put out more than 3 amps, what happened to the radar to make it suddenly stop working, how come things break faster than you can fix them out here and how is it possible for waves to come from EVERY direction??? Ahhh well, the bilge is sorted out, the Hydro-gen just looks at me and laughs and luckily my new BFF is an ex Navy S.E.A.L and can help me trouble shoot things like faulty radars over the HAM radio frequencies in the morning (thanks Terry, it WAS the corroded fuse). As for the whims of the waves... who cares, I love 'em anyway. This is the most fantastic experience imaginable and I'm getting to do it with three of the most fabulous people on the planet. I just hope we don't run out of coffee mugs.

If you have not yet seen this video of Sylvia Earle, do watch it now!

FIRST BIG CROSSING: Day 7

24h - 101 nautical miles

I time my climb down the ladder to coincide with the swells...
and swing like an Orangutan from hatch to handhold.

Kai and Hunter are asleep in the sea berth. The main cabin is a disaster, as it is every morning after night watches end. The settees have been turned into sea berths and are overflowing in a jumble of tangled children and various layers of foul weather gear and books and stuffed animals and needlepoint and a hundred half made projects of yarn and beading. The sink is full of unwashed dishes from midnight snacks, stray oranges have escaped from the giant bag that we bought in Cabo. I rub my eyes and resolve to clean it all for the 900th time, knowing it will be like this again in thirty minutes.

Outside, is a world of grey. The sea and sky have lost their Gaugin hues. The grumbling swell and the shades of pewter put you in mind of a summer's day sailing in the Strait of Georgia. Only the flocks of turquoise/blue flying fish bursting from the waves and gliding in impossible, airborne aptitude, before disappearing again beneath the splash and spray- reminds you that you ain't in Kansas anymore, Dorothy, and this adventure is A LONG way from over.

Looking at the clouds, I know Jon will once again be forced to spend the day puzzling out our battery amps and voltage dilemma...

I need to make us coffee.

I find the kettle, stashed, under a blanket where I have stowed it so it won't kill one of my children, in the event it launches from it's usual stowage place.
I look at every  unsecured object  on the boat with suspicion, these days.
"Where could this go wrong?" I ask.
Because if it can-most likely, it will.

The gimbaled stove swings like a mad trapeze artist.

Winds are still light and variable so we veer and yaw on a fifteen foot swell running about every ten seconds.
There are also, other, less predictable waves, out here running from a  low pressure system to the North of us.
This is just the beginning of the trades, the further into them we go, the less all this will happen and the more stable things will become.
I'm looking forward to that, I must say.

So, secure the kettle to the stove with metal rods so it won't attack anyone.
The bean jar is empty...begin the search for more beans. (Bags and bags of coffee are stowed everywhere on the boat, beans make excellent packing to help things from rattling-plates and cups and secreted-away bottles of wine.)

I open a cupboard and not only the beans but the cups, the plates and the bottles of wine all launch at me as the boat jerks and rolls in a frenzy.
I react like Inspector Clouseau being attacked by his man, Pink.
I pray and duck, I fend with a stuffed teddy bear.
I shove the rolling wine bottles under a blanket and wrangle the hand grinder and the beans into a small corner of the companionway...
where I crouch, like a refugee, carefully pouring my beans into the grinder.

I manage.

FIRST BIG CROSSING: Day 6

Day 6
24 hours-116 nm.

The seas stay confused and get bigger.
By nightfall, our whole pitching, careening, world is shrouded in total blackness.
No moon. Stars completely blocked by clouds.

The wind fools around, a naughty child trying to play hide and seek when you don't want to. It gusts from 17 knots at the beam and then sneaks around to the stern and dies completely. No amount of sail trim will steady the boat on the rolling sea but we try anyway.

We pass Clarion Island, 90 miles straight South of us and the Westernmost  of the Revillagigedo Islands. We never see it,  but it will be the closest we come to land in the next 24 days (give or take).

The night passes, the watches are the hardest to get up for so far on this trip -I think we have peaked at our exhaustion level now- but as soon as you are on deck, you stay busy enough to stay awake for three hours.  Then down you go, wake your mate or Captain and try and  grab some sleep if you can before the next watch. Luckily, It all goes by incredibly fast (and is even pretty thrilling) when the weather is yucky and you need to stay on your toes.

During the night, I see some phantom shapes rush towards the boat. In the darkness, I can only see the outlines of the small sleek bodies as they rush by, trailing green bioluminescence in their wake. They do not come to play in the bow, as the Bottlenose Dolphin, who visit every night- I wonder if they are Dorado, but the water temp out here is only 74* ...too cold for them, I think.

The sun comes up at 6:30 and I make coffee and get ready to wake Jon for the morning broadcast nets. I feel the boat slogging differently in the waves and see the headsail wanting to flog. The wind is moving behind the boat again but this time it keeps going, "please, go just a little more...!" I think. "Ten more degrees..." I look at the waves, they seem to be forming into a slightly more uniform pattern. I wake Jon and by 7:15 we are poling out the headsail...We have entered the beginning edge of the Trade Winds!

We run wing on wing for the first time this trip. We sip our coffee without having to brace ourselves to balance! We do our check in on Amigo net and look at our weather charts. Our course looks good, if things go as we hope and the gribs are right-we should be on this course for another 900 miles before we need to start thinking about where we will cross those Doldrums. The rest of the day is bliss compared to the last few-It's still rolling but the swells are mostly from behind and the winds are a pretty steady 12 knots at least-Life is Pura Vida, again!

Later in the day, we are visited by a small group of Pacific White-sided Dolphin and I realize this is what I saw last night. They are much smaller than the Bottle nose and the Spinners we usually see and a good deal more shy about hanging out with us and playing in our bow wave. Jon takes a salt water shower on deck with our sea bucket and we see a very large Oceanic White tip Shark cruise by us, going the opposite direction. We both run to the aftdeck to make sure he doesn't turn around and try to make lunch out of the hydro generator Jon has begun trailing behind the boat. Lucky for Jon, Mr. Shark is not interested. Good thing, too, as Jon spent the entire day yesterday in that maniacal swell, upside down in the lazarette, re-soldering the diode on the charge controller (with a butane powered soldering iron, in 17 knot winds on a moving boat)!

Oceanic Whitetip Shark

Ahhhh....cruising, so luxurious .

Special note : Thanks SO much to everyone that is signing up for Project Shellback and to all of you who post messages on the blog. I cannot connect to internet so I send our posts via Saildocs to our friend Emily, who is managing the blog for us while we are out of range. She sends us the lists of new names and copies of all of your comments, everyday. It is a big highlight of our day (way out in this crazy yonder) to hear from all of you!


KAI'S Ocean trivia:
People Estimate near 100 million sharks are killed each year for their meat and fins, which are used for shark fin soup. Hunters typically catch the sharks, de-fin them while alive and throw them back into the ocean where they either drown or bleed to death.
Sharks are very important to our Ocean's ecosystem because they keep it in balance. They are Apex predators at top of the food chain, Eating Apex predators is a bad idea because they contain more mercury in their meat-so Shark fin soup isn't even good for you anyway. Next time, order a nice hot bowl of clam chowder. Also don't buy stuff made out of sharkskin.

Hunter's helpful hints:
Help clean up our beaches!
Everytime you go to the beach bring a bag to pick up trash you find, then take it to recycling if you have one.
Out here in the ocean we have only seen one plastic water jug floating by. I wish it was that way everywhere.

Captain's corner:
If we have in fact reached the Trades then I should be able to contribute a little something here once in awhile...Starting tomorrow. By the way, Butane soldering irons DON'T work while upside-down in 17kts!

A note from the web-person...

Hello, everybody!
Since there are hundreds of people watching this blog, including some close friends and family, I wanted to let you know that Jon and Suki cannot see the blog or check their email during this trip. They send in their updates over SSB and I post them to the blog for them. I do send them some of the comments, however I can't send too much because of the crowded nature of SSB, and they can't respond to the comments, for the same reason. They do, however, appreciate getting the encouraging comments and feeling a connection to the people they love, so if you want to leave comments I will try to pass on as many as I can, within the limited bandwidth available.

Yes I do also send in the new names for Project Shellback, which they have been faithfully adding to their pillowcase-full of beautiful colorful cotton!

Also, please don't be alarmed if these postings aren't as frequent as we hope for. Jon and Suki have to turn off their self-steering and somebody has to manually steer PuraVida while the other person uses the SSB to communicate with me; it is not always possible to create that opportunity!

--Emily -- web-designer for The Wet Edge

FIRST BIG CROSSING: Day 5

DAY 5

Wind and confused seas.
We kept busy, pointed the boat high to make our Westing and gave the old girl a little push. It was fast, good sailing, despite the overcast skies and grumpy sea. We haven't spent this much time close hauled since...well, ever. We have been nose to the wind for about 400 miles now. By late afternoon, the seas started coming steeper and breaking- time to reef her in and settle down. No need to strain the rig or anyone's nerves.

Kai has graduated from tailing at the winch to actually cranking the whole darn sail up or down. It helps that he is the same size as me now and getting stronger by the minute. It's awesome to have him on deck with us, a fully functioning part of our crew.

Everyone was tired from two days of bashing and rolling but there's not much we can do about that, a† the moment. Jon downloads the grib charts for the weather and determines the best course. We are looking to catch the trade winds, that blow steadily from the North East, this time of year. Sailors have used these reliable winds for centuries to make their way across the seas. Imagine a highway of wind, the fastest way to travel from the Northern Hemisphere to the South. Of course, there are no street signs, so one must sail out into the ocean looking for the latitude where they traditionally begin. We rely on recent weather updates to fine tune our strategy. The grey skies reminded us of how important it is to sort out the Hydro-generator Jon is working on. Our battery power is a constant source of Skipper preoccupation. Fridge, water maker, SSB radio (our ONLY source of weather info and sail-mail communication-we have no internet or phone out here), running lights and auto-pilot all draw off our batteries. Jon's latest attempt to stabilize this draw when our solar can't function (like at night or when shadowed by sails or during a cloudy period) has been this hydro-generator. We got the idea from a fellow cruiser in La Paz but so far, the thing is ALMOST working-which isn't quite the same as ACTUALLY working. More on this, from the Captain himself, when he actually has a minute to write something.

Hunter adopted a tired Brown Boobie for a day. The silly bird landed on our boat and hitched a ride, spending the night on our solar panels. Unfortunately  (and over Hunter's protests) he pooped so much, that Captain booted him as soon as he woke up and discovered the stowaway.

Everyday, I come off the 3am-6am watch, make coffee and Jon wakes up from his off-watch, to check into Amigo net. Our friends in the fleet are keeping close track of our progress and log our position and course every day. We also have a good long chat with our buddies on Manta (back in Escondido) over the radio waves, so that sets a happy tone for the day. The kids and I have been writing names on pieces of colored cotton and the pillow case we keep them in is filling up! Even (as of his posting) nearly 500 miles out to sea, we feel we are not alone.

All is well.
We are busy, tired, happy, awed, scared, overwhelmed, amazed and grateful...
And looking forward to finding those Trades!

Kai's ocean fact for today:
The annual global by-catch mortality of small whales, dolphins and porpoises alone is estimated to be more than 300,000 individuals.
Most of these animals are caught by long liners and drift nets looking for Tuna. Maybe next time you want to have Tuna or Swordfish at a resturaunt-think about having a burger or chicken instead or make sure you find out how a fish has been caught before you order it.
When I go fishing I only take the kind of fish I am going To eat and I don't take more than it takes to feed my family.

Hunter's hints:
I love sushi and I always want to eat it a lot but I have learned that Sushi and especially tuna needs to be a treat. I live on a boat and we catch what we eat and do not take more than for us. Don't eat sushi at the mini mall or even at Wholefoods - SUSHI is NOT POTATO CHIPS. Lots of animals die that shouldn't because people eat it too much. A great way to have sushi if you really want it is to make it yourself. You can buy it from a really good local fish store who knows how to get their food the right way. When you buy a whole fish you also get more sushi for less money.  And NEVER eat blue-fin because they are almost all gone.

FIRST BIG CROSSING: Day 4

Day 4
24 hours-75 nautical miles

The wind died completely. The seas, however came in a brutish, rolling slop from all directions. We dropped the sails and waited, clutching onto whatever we could, as the boat tossed from rail to rail. The noise was unbelievable. Fresh pears, stowed improperly  in a bowl (naive, optimism), were literally pulverized into mush.

You can simulate what our experience was like. All you will need to do this is:
1 bathtub
1 Rubber Ducky.
2 hyper-active toddlers.

Follow these simple steps:

Fill bathtub.
Place a Toddler (screaming or laughing-either will do) at each end of the tub.
Put Rubber Ducky in the center of the tub.
Whatever Rubber Ducky is doing, is what WE were doing yesterday-for ten hours.

When Insanity reared it's over-tired head, Jon decried (to our collective joy) that we should turn the engine on for one hour and motor South out of the vortex.
Hunter tore off half her clothes and stood on deck yowling to the wind Gods to find favor with us again.
It worked.
11 miles further South we found the wind.

Up went the sails and we clipped on, close-hauled, at a respectable 5.5 knots for the rest of the night.

Out here in the big yonder, one is free to call on any personal deity that might fit the bill.

They say there are no atheists in foxholes and I believe there are no agnostics ferrying children over the seas in a small boat.

I like to place my bets with my angels.

Sometimes, I ask my dad to look in.
In the event that he is still waiting in line at those pearly gates for the final judgment..I'm hoping I can sway the jury. He was always a good dad at sea.

I also talk to Jerry Garcia, quite a bit. I don't know what he ever had to do with the ocean, but I figure anyone who dedicated a life to making such a great party on Earth for forty years, must have some pull. When things get gnarly out here, i put on a little bluegrass and let him sing down the seas. This morning, as I watched the sunrise, the clouds were Easter-Bunny pink and the Sea looked like electric Kool-aid. I can't help thinking, Ol' Uncle Jerry was up there, helping someone paint this canvas just for me...
And the message in the sky, was to keep on Truckin'.


Kai's ocean trivia:
Plastic waste kills up to 1 million sea birds, 100,000 sea mammals and countless fish each year. Plastic remains in our ecosystem for years, harming thousands of sea creatures everyday.

Hunter's hints to help our seas:
I want to give you some tips of what you can do in every day life to help our seas..
#1
REDUCE YOUR CARBON FOOTPRINT BY...
WALKING!
TRY NOT TO DRIVE IF YOU CAN WALK THERE.
and while your walking, you can think about our Ocean!

FIRST BIG CROSSING: Day 3

DAY THREE

24 hours-89 miles.
Yup. Yesterday was slow. But it was lovely.

The Pacific welcomed us with open arms. It was as flat as an enormous ocean can possibly be and the winds were light. Too light to do anything other than set out our (borrowed) asymmetrical spinnaker, which is a tiny bit small for us- but works perfectly in light winds. It's being undersized, only makes it even easier to deal with-which is good because Jon and I were both a little fuzzy from lack of sleep.

Which brings me to...Night watch.
I know this is what our family probably fears most, when they think about us out here, in the middle of an ocean. But night watch is just part of what is so totally awesome about this experience. It's a little freaky, sure. Being surrounded by darkness and the all encompassing maw of a great Ocean... but then, you settle down and it feels like you have the entire planet to yourself.

The Moon is a shy companion these days, only showing up at the end of the party, so most of the dark hours are spent dancing with the stars. Last night, we had the Southern Cross to Port and Pollux to Starboard. We didn't even have to look at the compass and we knew we were headed in the right direction. Glowing dolphins trailing phosphorescent sequins ghost by the boat and inexplicable sounds drift from the unknown around you; sqealing and chirping, tinkling bells, a soft moaning... We imagine they are the calls of the Kracken-bats and the Sea-elves. At least, this is the only explanation WE can come up with.

The kids are mostly giggling. They whisper and play games together all day. They eat a little and sleep a lot. There is much to unwind from the world.
And they haven't once asked... when we'll get there.

Oh, and a little albatross told me this:


The Great Barrier Reef, measuring 1,243 miles, is the largest living structure on Earth. It can be seen from the Moon.

FIRST BIG CROSSING: Day 2

DAY 2
24 hour run: 108 miles
Miles to go...fuggetaboutit.

We're settling into the life of passage-makers.
The boat has turned from our comfy home into a long-distance adventure machine.
The main salon is now a dormitory of sea-berths. Instead of eating dinner at the table, with wine and candles (yes, we do that-even on the boat), our meals are served in bowls on our laps. Internal clocks are readjusting to the continual changing of watches...and we all spend a lot of time staring at the ocean.

Someone once said, sailing is the perfect marriage of art and science.

I couldn't agree more. I do art projects with the kids and read poetry and invent recipes for the nine hundred cans of beef and chicken I stowed-and Jon fixes and invents and repairs and keeps the ship running. We both adjust sails and smile at the sunsets. A perfect marriage.

We aren't winning any races out here-the winds have been light but it is giving us time to settle into our routines. The boat slops around pretty good on the swells when there is no wind but no one seems to be too bothered. We're  all just grateful and excited to be out here. We were visited this morning, by a large pod of bottle-nose dolphin. We were only making about 3 knots in eight knots of wind, so lucky us, they chose to hang out for my whole watch. I guess they weren't in a rush to get anywhere, either. Hunter and I lay on our tummies on the foredeck and watched them rolling and looking up at us from under our bow.
And the water out here is the dreamiest blue any of us has ever seen.

COOL FACT:

The oceans provide 99 percent of the Earth's living space- the largest space in our universe known to be inhabited by living organisms.

 

 

FIRST BIG CROSSING: Day 1

DAY ONE
 
We're off!
We spent a bit of time becalmed before clearing the cape but it gave Jon time to splice our new spinnaker halyard onto the shackle.

A mother humpback and her baby came up behind us as and blew "goodbye to Mexico!" spouts. Their bodies in silhouette against the sunrise as it reflected off the water. SO BEAUTIFUL!

The wind came up to about 15 knots pretty close hauled, the seas were 8-10 on the beam. We wanted to try for some westing, so Pura Vida put a bone in her teeth and we pulled  up all the big sails and charged ahead.

Just as Jon went down for his off watch chill-out, we noticed the bilge starting to turn. I told him i would keep an eye on it but half an hour later, he was up poking around as it wouldn't quit. He turned it off and pumped it out by hand then waited to see what would happen. Ten minutes later the alarm went off. We were taking on a lot of water-and fast.

Of course, this was just about the time land disappeared from sight.

Of course, the wind and the seas had really cranked up just as the alarm started to screech.

We quickly reefed the sails and I fell off a bit so Jon could assess the situation.

He spent the next two hours searching the boat for the cause.
Taking on water sixty miles into your 2700 mile trip is a little unnerving... but he kept his cool. It meant digging out ALL my carefully stored goods, to check all the thru-hulls-which were fine (as we suspected) because we just inspected them in La Paz.

After much beard-pulling Jon found the cause-an ancient and long ago disconnected air conditioning hose-the hose loop is usually ABOVE the water line. Pura Vida is WELL below her water line at the moment-with all my AWESOME cans of goodies, i guess- so after some pulling and wrangling and yoga moves-Jon fixed the problem.

It's 5:15 PM. We've made about 50 miles since 7AM-the winds have been light for the past few hours. The seas are tame (6-8 feet on the beam), the kids are giggling about something in the cockpit, Jon is taking a little breather, I made beef and lentil stew and we still have some fresh bread from the bakery...
So far, so good!

Something to think about, while you're enjoying a nice, stable, reality wherever you are;

The oceans occupy nearly 71% of our planet's surface!

 

 

I wake up at 4 am...again.

My heart is pounding and I haven't gotten out of bed yet.

"Okay. It's jitters. Get up and write a blog..."

In the predawn gloom, I  tip-toe through the boat to find the computer under a pile of stuff I thought I packed already.

The STUFF must be multiplying in the darkness-like the cockroaches we picked up during our two weeks on the hard in La Paz.

(I am an environmentalist-but i draw the line at cockroaches-I feel that they have had their 200 million-year party on this planet and extinction is not something I should feel too bad about-at least on my boat).

Shoot. The computer is dead.

Plug it in.

Whoops!

The battery charger wasn't turned off on the breaker.

Oh god! That was close! Did I hear a "frrrzzttttt" as I nearly pushed the plug into the converter?

No?

Whew!  A mistake like that could fry the electrics on the boat.

Tip-toe back to bed. Quiet as a mouse. Don't want to wake Jon who might actually be getting five minutes of sleep.

Hang on, why won't the computer say its charging?

Oh god, the cord is broken...No?

MY GOD...I  did do it! 

I somehow fried the electrical panel on the boat!

I am thinking this, in my head. I am thinking, I just ruined our trip to French Polynesia.

I am thinking...i am the worst first mate on the planet and I should just go ahead and jump over board right now-but we are still at the dock and that would look pretty silly.

"what's wrong honey?"  it's Jon. He hasn't even opened his eyes yet and already he knows, some fresh hell awaits him.

 "I think I might of done something really really bad...'

"How bad?"  his eyes are still closed.

"Bad. Bad."

Jon never yelled. He never gave me an accusing look.

He just got out of bed, heard the panel making frying sounds and said quietly,

"Can you make me some coffee, babe?"

Yes. I can make coffee. I can also spend the next seven years kicking myself, if that would help.

An hour later-all of it spent staring at the panel board and flipping switches-and something was done to the power plug with some corrosive stuff and rubbing alcohol and q-tips-

Jon finally unscrewed the panel and a mass of indecipherable wires faced him.

More staring, some muttering, he takes a screwdriver and stabs it repeatedly into the mass of wires.

I look on, utterly dismayed.

It's over.

And we never left the dock.

Then, Jon flipped the breakers and the DC charge needle went up and stayed steady.

I took a breath for the first time in two hours.

" So, I didn't kill the boat? I asked, practically collapsing with relief.

"No. You didn't do anything. It was this..."

Jon held up the screwdriver ...a dead cockroach was impaled on the end of it.

(I kid you not).

I guess there was a loose connection involved as well but still...I knew I hated those things.

Disaster #1-narrowly averted.

We are now counting down the hours, waiting for a favorable wind shift.

On happier news...

A kid boat came to the dock today.

They were super nice and open and excited.

They are from the Gulf Islands in BC.

Home schoolers and new cruisers-on their way to sail the Sea of Cortes for the first time.

With a boy and a girl- exactly the same ages as our kids.

Just like us, one year ago...

We were in the same berth they had now, when we met Beau Soleil, this exact time of year...

and  Beau Soliel was hours away from a jump across to French Polynesia...

And WE are sitting in the Beau Soleil  berth now.

Cool, huh?

A heart breaking goodbye

We LOVE you Grandma Sara and we'll MISS you!

The Vortex crew...You will love it here!

Kai gives Henry some fishing tips for the Sea of Cortes

...and tries to convince him that everyone here wears hats like this.

Instant friends

WELCOME ABOARD!

To everyone who signed up, a HUGE thank you for joining Project Shellback!
We had a massive few days of traffic on the blog and about a hundred names on the list so far... 
It's going to be a great crew!

(And a special thanks to our friends, Emily and Marcus-who rebuilt the blog  and made it look spiffy and added all the nifty new gadgets and designed our logo and who will continue to be tech support while we are out of range. None of this would have happened without you guys...Huge hugs for everything!)

So...Are you ready?

Because we sure are-sort of!

It's a busy few days in Puerto Los Cabos.

G-ma Sara came down with two HUGE duffle bags of gak for us.

Boat parts  and scuba gear, a new lightweight engine for inventing a hydro-generator, bags of seed for sprouting...

We packed and stowed and shopped for produce.

Grandma helped and was a total trouper, taking the kids, so Jon and I could go like fiends.

I have stuffed so much STUFF, into every conceivable spot on this boat.

It does make one realize,  just how much we consume and WHAT we consume.

"We need garbage bags..." i think, then realize...

for WHAT, exactly?

Where will I put that garbage?

Am I going to throw it in the sea?

Well...no. 

Okay...So what am I buying and what kind of trash will it make?

These days, instead of looking at ingredients- I look at packaging.

For the past year, we've been able to seriously cut down on our waste but -we could still burn what paper we had on shore and even small  pueblos will take your trash for a fee-they will then also burn it, or dump it, in the desert-so you still need to think  about what you are going to buy and how you are going to rid yourself of it.

Everything we use... ends up somewhere.

I suddenly thought about how many times I yell at my kids in a week, telling them not to leave all their stuff lying around.

"You guys just leave your stuff on the floor, the second your finished with it!"... 

Grrrrrr.

But so do I, right?

Not literally, maybe, but it ends up on the Earth's floor, just the same.

I'm finding a good rule of thumb is, if you can eat or use it , the instant you want it, (unless it's fresh produce),

it's probably going to end up being bad for the environment. 

So now, the boat is  stocked to her hatches, with (carefully considered) foods and water, diesel and gasoline...

The dingy has been deflated and strapped to the foredeck.

We have shaken out the storm sails and checked our systems again and again to make sure everything is groovy.

We bought a few new fish lures...

We are finally, ALMOST ready to untie.

One final check out with the Capitano de Puerto and then a stop to refill on our propane tanks...

It looks like we will head out either later this afternoon -or very early the next morning.

Yesterday, we puttered outside the breakwater for a little look-around the area.

Sara made a movie of me coming in and out if the water in my wetsuit and a half second after I got out, a baby Thresher shark jumped clear out of the water!

I have decided that I really like baby sharks.

I don't know how I will feel about meeting their big brothers or sisters-
but the little guys sure are neat.

Grandma helps the kids put names on cotton
WELCOME TO EVERYONE WHO'S JOINED PROJECT SHELLBACK!

The lovely G-ma SAra

Dad's day of silly hats

The Large Funnel Hat was my personal favorite

Join uses his secret weapon in the immigration line

Kai freediving some coral heads

A calm ascent

Guinnea Puffer

Free-diver girl

Sunrise in the Baja

Getting ready for anything... is a sort of anti-Zen proposition.

You are forced to imagine so many realities, that the one you actually exist in ( or do you?), is sometimes neglected.

Especially, when you are preparing to cross an ocean.

You try and remain present...

but preparing for a future, so vast, so unpredictable... requires an almost ecstatic commune with the fates.

Sometimes, I feel I am throwing the I-Ching.

"Will we encounter winds over 50 knots?"

"Did I stow enough paper towels?"

"Will tossing the iPad in the dutch oven protect it if we are struck by lightening?"

"Should I make three casseroles ahead of time, or five?"

My boat responds with stoic resolution.

Her voice is heavy with fiberglass and resin.

She is tolerant and generous.

"Do whatever you need...to feel prepared" she says.

Then she groans,

and makes more room for us.

Ten more cans of tuna...

one last bag of ice, 

eight final sticks of butter...

just in case.

Jon does not appear to be casting coins to my oracle.

He has a sort of methodical, artisanal approach.

It is puttering and peering, mumbling at the engine, climbing the mast, flexing the rig...

He spreads out his tools  for a 1/4 mile on the dock,

hoses and clamps and bits of line and rope.

New machines are invented everyday, they materialize on our decks.

Jon's "to-do" list is long and mysterious.

I don't know what half the stuff on it even means.

"Don't you F-ing fall overboard..." I say to him.

This is is my mantra.

He nods and shakes his head.

We climb into our bunk at night and cling to each other in the darkness, 

We are thinking about all our friends from home and the other boats we know that are already out there, right now,

This is how every day ends.

When I wake up in the morning, I will look over at him and he will be staring at the ceiling.

I can't imagine how much is going through his head these days.

"Hey, baby...you excited?" I will ask,

and he will look at me and smile.

In three days time, we should be ready to go.

As long as there is the wind.

And then,  if the fates will have us...

we will be back in the Zen.

My boys

mom canning more peppers!

Kai finds a moment to contemplate the whole deal

Peek-a-boo

The bounty of Flora farms

Heavenly greens

 Nyon pulls out from the dock next to us...Next stop Marquesas!

Jon breaks down the compressor for below deck stowage

Rivets us some new mast steps...So we can spot our entrances into the atolls!

Evening stretch

OUT through the IN door

I'm not sure there are a ton of places you can cruise for a year,  then literally go, "out the way you came in".

There are only so many anchorages one can stop in on the way to, or from, Cabo.

So we are retracing those first, few, baby steps that we made (exactly one year ago) as we nosed our way into the Sea of Cortes for the first time.

It is surreal. 

The kids keep saying how it all looks so different but it's not the places that have changed-it's us.

The kids and I went to shore in Los Muertos for one last hop around on the sand dunes. On the dingy back out to the boat, we passed over beautiful coral and saw two sea turtles and a giant sea lion dozing near our boat. We were supposed to get an early start for Los Frailles but we realized this might be our last chance to swim in the Sea of Cortes. 

The Pacific is just around the corner.

We are heading West now, too. 

Haven't done THAT in awhile. 

It was awesome to free-dive as a family again. 

It's such a pleasure to watch Kai and Hunter swim. How graceful they are underwater.  Each has their own style. Kai is sleek and streamlined, like a seal and Hunter wiggles and twists, her long hair streaming out behind her. The coral heads were about twenty feet down and everyone swam down to the bottom and hung out looking at all the juvenile angel fish hiding in the coral. We tried to take pictures down there, well see if they come out okay-That is something I think Scuba will be WAY better for!

Hunter didn't even have a weight belt on AND she was wearing her wetsuit. I don't know how she does it but she's part fish, obviously.

People always warn me to be careful when free diving with the kids, because it;s easy to get shallow water blackout if you push yourself too far-but the thing is, we never push. The kids never push. They just spend a lot of time in the water and are very relaxed. I think spending as much time as we have around air breathing aquatic life helps, too. There;s a definite pace to doing these things and I notice when we haven't been diving for awhile, no one goes as deep or stays down as long because it takes awhile for your body to remember how to be calm. How to do the slow, slow, thing.

We headed to Frailles and were surrounded by whales-this continued on the next day also, as we made our slow(  and no wind) way towards San Jose Del Cabo.

Whales were  everywhere, lolling about on the glassy surface. I had a ton to do below decks but I didn't get a thing done,  because every five minutes we saw another group of three or six or ten whales.-Mother's and calves or young males slapping their tails. I  stood on deck all day with binoculars, grinning from ear to ear.

We had the fishing line in for a hundred miles without a single bite ( not counting Bonita) until JUST before we pulled into SDC...then BAM!

The line went ZING and Kai woke up from a six hour nap and was on deck in a hot second, hand on the reel...

"Hey, we got a shark! " he yelled.

It was a young Mako-not too big, but big enough that we realized we had no protocol for releasing him. 

We didn't want to cut the line and leave him hooked. Both for his sake and ours-hooks aren't cheap and it was a good one-but he sure had a LOT of teeth.

We tried to loop a line over his tail and get him up that way, but very quickly it became obvious what  bad idea that could be. He was strong and we don't really know how to manage a shark on deck, we just read that they did it  that way on Kontiki -but those guys were nuts!

Jon did some sort of magic move with a gaff hook while leaning over the deck and we got the hook out and our little guy swam off unharmed-it might seem strange to be so protective of a shark but they are so valuable to the ocean's balance and he was so beautiful and quite trusting, and  even patient seeming, as  we lamely tried to get the hook out of his mouth. 

I'm sure he would have taken off a toe or a finger in a heartbeat if he was on deck, but alongside the boat,he was kind of puppy-like.

Anyway, I'm hoping the positive shark Karma holds us in good stead with the sharks of the South Pacific-which we hear are EVERYWHERE.

Jon might have to hang up that speargun of his for a little while...

Approaching Los Frailles...

mixed emotions

Goodbye Sea of Cortes- WE LOVE YOU!