Bulletin - 7th June 2001

We are now en route to the Marquesas, so we have quite a lot to fill in!

We completed our victualling on the Pacific side of the Canal with a visit to the Balboa Farmer’s Market which is on a rather larger scale to the newly opening ones I have visited at home. Here there were stalls only selling bananas, or melon, and some general purpose ones. We equipped ourselves with a bag of 100 oranges (US$5 per bag!), part of a stalk of green bananas and sundry other fruit and veg, hoping that it would last us well into the Marquesas crossing.

We set off to send a couple of nights at the Perlas islands, about 50 miles out, and though we only had a small amount of time in each of the two we stopped at, found them delightful. Quite a change from the San Blas, not a palm tree in sight: rocky islands with plenty of vegetation and flowering trees and lovely white beaches. Our second anchorage at Isla de San Jose was reminiscent of Brittany with the sea swirling around the rocky entrance, though without such strong currents.

We set off for the Galapagos on the morning of March 15th, having to motor for a few hours before the wind came up. This is a notoriously windless leg, crossing the Doldrums (now known as the Inter Tropical Convergence Zone or ITCZ) with their combination of poor wind contrasting with sudden squalls and thunderstorms. However, we were quite early and the ITCZ seems to be rather late in moving north this year, so it appeared to be still south of the Galapagos when we set off. We do not carry sufficient diesel to be able to motor the whole way, even if we wanted to, though we had extra cans on deck to give us some additional range. But we were lucky and though we still had generally light winds, and we were able to make good progress under sail for most of the passage. 

On the days when the water was still, one could look down from the boat onto wonderful coloured fish, without even putting a mask on! and the occasional turtle would come drifting by.

We visited the newly opened Interpretation Centre, which told the story both of the natural and social history of the islands. We hadn’t realised till then that Darwin was only here for 5 weeks many years before he published his theory of natural selection. He must have had an incredible eye, even though the wildlife was said to be even tamer then. Although it seems to have been the prehistoric appearance of the giant tortoises and iguanas that initially caught his imagination, it was close observation of the variations in the finch population (now known as "Darwin’s finches") which fuelled much of his thinking.

The social history of the islands makes depressing reading, with one unsuccessful attempt to found a colony after another, each contributing to the damage caused to the natural environment. Lucky for the islands that they are far from the mainland, that so much managed to survive. Whalers and other seafarers would collect giant tortoises to store in the holds of their ships where they survived for months without food or water to provide fresh meat for the crews. Subsequently the streets of Guayaquil on the mainland were lit with tortoise lamp oil! Less obvious enemies also abound; introduced mammals which eat the indigenous wildlife which has evolved no protective strategies; introduced plants which over-run native species which are food plants for the native fauna. The raspberry has become a major menace, escaping and growing prolifically all over specialised habitats, rather in the manner of wild brambles at home.

For us the most amazing experience in San Cristobal came from a walk along the rocks from the harbour to find a colony of marine iguanas, most of which seemed quite unafraid as one crept slowly closer for a good look and a photograph. They took some identifying initially, as they blend in well with the dark rock, but once one had one’s eye "in", they were easy to spot. The Galapagos is home to the only marine iguanas in the world (although there do, confusingly, seem to be land iguanas in other places which live on beaches), and these ones had reached a good size, with bodies about 18 inches long and tails as long again. 

We waited in San Cristobal for two and a half weeks for an American yacht to arrive, who had collected a parcel from home for us in Colon; it having arrived, very late, three days after we had left for the Galapagos. It was lovely to open Christmas cards - on the 9th April, just after Palm Sunday! - and to receive the supplies from home in the parcel.

The following day we moved on to Academy Bay, Puerto Ayora, on Santa Cruz island. Here we visited the Darwin Institute, a scientific research station funded by a number of nations and individuals, and therefore independent of the National Park Authority and the Ecuadorian government. They undertake a wide diversity of work at the Institute, with visiting scientists from all over the world carrying out specific projects. They are also working with the National Park Authority and the Ecuadorian government to educate the local population in the ways of conservation, which, for example in the case of the fishing industry, may seem to run counter to the ability to make a living. A new management plan has been created, which tries to take into consideration every interest, including the local need to live! We wondered if the observation we noted in the local children over the pelican with the large fish in its beak was at least partly due to their education programmes.

Whilst it was very interesting to see the tortoises close to, and the work of the Institute, we wanted to try to see some in their natural habitat, and to that end took a taxi up into the "highlands", about half an hour’s drive from the harbour, to an area of national park where they are said to be plentiful. At the small gatehouse at the entrance to the National Park we were told that they were not after all so plentiful in that area, and that in any case visitors were discouraged from walking alone without a guide, as people have become lost, and even died - not good for tourism! Our driver suggested a local farm where tortoises were generally to be found so we set off with a guide in pursuit on a motor scooter. As we turned into the long track down to the farm, there was a tortoise right beside the track. The taxi driver exuded triumph! This tortoise was satisfyingly wild, in that although it allowed us to get quite close, one step too far, and it would hiss crossly and withdraw its head into its shell. After a stop for inspection and photos, we carried on down to the farm, where the farmer and his small son led us across the farm and up a path along the boundary with the national park, where we found another couple of tortoises, well camouflaged under the trees, amongst rocks which looked just like their shells. After meeting the first one on the track, we thought we had seen a number more, which turned out to be rounded rocks! We spent some time in the shade, just watching the tortoise, a local cuckoo and a number of other local birds, and taking more photos, as the tortoises recovered from the shock of finding us there. 

Walking back cross the farm, the farmer suddenly pointed out an amazing bright red little bird "the vermilion flycatcher" which is much sought after, but not often found, by more knowledgeable bird watchers than ourselves. It was a spectacular sight, but proved hard to photograph!

The farm itself was interesting - we walked through pasture and woodland, and were shown coffee growing quite haphazardly in the woodland, and orange trees. It transpired that as well as the cattle we had seen on our way in (beef and dairy - milk, butter and cheese) the farm produced water melon, bananas, oranges and coffee. We were given a small picnic of water melon and bananas from the farm before we left, to find a traffic jam on the track back out - a tortoise on each side of the track!

Fish markets in the heat of the Galapagos need to be different. The tiny square open-sided building on the stone jetty which served this purpose generally housed a small group of fishermen who had already sold their catch, awaiting the next boat home. John was walking past as a boat arrived. It was dragged the last few yards across the mud to the quay and the two fishermen carried their catch and laid it out on the stone. Within seconds locals who had been waiting and tourists passing by surrounded the men and their catch, which was sold instantly. The only individuals ahead of the humans were the birds: pelicans, frigate birds and boobies who all awaited a potential meal. Fish cut up on the stone slab ran the risk of being hi-jacked by a pelican, bold as brass, reaching out for lunch. The offal and bones from any filleted fish were deposited 20 yards away in the creek where a spectacular flying display delighted the watcher, with pelicans diving and fighting, and frigate birds swooping down to grab whatever they could, whilst very rarely landing even on the rocks - such agile flyers they are. After the hubbub of transactions, 4 small shark were left, which John subsequently learnt were an illegal catch, but after the fishermen had skinned and filleted them, they too were quickly sold. In all less than 5 minutes passed from the boat landing its catch to the place resorting to its mid-day torpor, and the birds landed on the rocks nearby to await the next boat.

The following day we left for Isla Isabela, and the small port of Villamil. We arrived on Easter Eve in the anchorage, which is tucked behind a rocky series of reefs and islands, with a hair raising dinghy trip through and ideally round the surf to get ashore, to find that the only Easter services in the local church were in the evening and therefore completely inaccessible to us by dinghy in the dark. Villamil is a small town with sand streets and a couple of low key hotels for tourists who really want to get away from it all. (The previous two towns had hardly been Brighton!) A lake just up the road is home to a flock of flamingos, which again we were able to see really close to, to appreciate the colour variations on their necks, tails and the undersides of their wings. There is another tortoise breeding centre here for the particular tortoises of Isabela, the largest island in the archipelago. We went for a walk round one of the islands protecting the anchorage on which there were hundreds of marine iguanas, many smaller than at Wreck Bay, but much more prolific. They camouflage well with the knobbly lava, and one could look at a sea of heads and not be quite sure if they were heads or rock! With the greater number of iguana here, one could see the strange habit they have of climbing onto and over one another and then staying put, quite still, for minutes, maybe hours at a time. They don’t seem to mind being climbed on or over! We also almost managed to capture the missed crab photo, though here there were fewer, much larger red crabs which were quite shy of movement - no wonder as they must be an easy target for passing seabirds. 

Finally, it became apparent from the daily radio schedule of yachts which had already left for the Marquesas that the trade winds had started to assert themselves. When we arrived here, we had not intended to stay for so long, but a combination of the package from home slowly following us, and the absence of wind for this, our longest passage of the entire journey, made us feel that we should take advantage of the situation and enjoy the Galapagos. Now, instead of having to motor on and off for many hours, or sit becalmed waiting for wind, there was evidence of wind much closer to the islands, so on Tuesday 17th April, after a pleasant lunch ashore in one of the small hotels, we set sail for the Marquesas. 

The passage to the Marquesas:

Email difficulties in the Marquesas have meant that two or three reports will be sent together from Tahiti (we hope!).

We were very lucky with our passage to the Marquesas. We motored for the first three hours, really just to get clear of a rocky headland before nightfall, though we could have tacked out in the light southwesterly wind. By dusk, a gentle wind had come up from the south east and we sailed out to the southwest, having decided to head slightly south of the rhumb line initially in search of better wind. Over the next few days we had assorted wind speeds from 6 to 20 knots, sometimes with accompanying lumpy seas, which made it quite uncomfortable. We were fortunate in avoiding the squalls which many of the other yachts, both ahead and behind us, encountered, and particularly in avoiding the thunder and lightning which accompanied them. Such squalls are very visible in advance, but one can’t tell till they reach you, exactly what they will contain – strong, gusty winds, torrential rain, thunder and most frightening on a yacht with a tall mast, lightning. We did have a couple of long rain-only squalls, during which we managed to catch a few gallons of fresh water to maintain our supplies. (For this passage, we washed up and cooked exclusively in sea water, though we did manage to eke the fresh water out to be able to wash ourselves in fresh.)

However we were averaging about 150 miles a day, with our best day at 166 miles. In just under a week, we had covered the first 1000 miles and were left with the same distance to go as our Atlantic crossing had been. At that point, the passage felt interminable! Having expected to have lots of time for reading, catching up on emails, bulletins and so on, there seemed to be little time for anything, once we had attended to the sailing needs, prepared food, eaten and slept. The days settled into a good rhythm with watches, meals and the radio schedule dictating our time keeping. Our parcel from home had included a Book of Common Payer, which we had inadvertently left behind in "one bag of books too many" when we left home, so the weekly rhythm also included a service of Matins or Evening Prayer on Sundays.

Our friends on Just Magic left almost a day after us and after a slow start due to light winds, steadily started to catch us up. Theirs is a much lighter boat of very modern design, which one would expect to sail faster than we do, and it was interesting that they caught us up and overtook us at exactly the half way stage, (1451 miles) so that we were able to enjoy a "virtual" half-way party by VHF radio to mark each of our half-way points one afternoon, as we were only a few miles apart.

All during the passage, we had birds flying round the boat from time to time. When you look at the very few islands in this part of the Pacific, it is incredible to look at them and realise not only the distances they must cover, but their excellent navigation abilities. Of course, you know all of this in theory, but actually watching birds circling round the boat, when one has been on passage across otherwise empty ocean for days, brings it home very strongly.

Once again we enjoyed wonderful starry skies, with a full moon towards the end of the passage, bright enough to cast shadows of the mast onto the sails, and certainly bright enough to see by, when working up on deck at night.

But it took days (and of course still is not automatic) to get used to the sun passing round to the north of us at midday - it still feels very strange!

One day a container ship passed very close by, so we called it up on the radio, to be met with a delighted and friendly response. It is on a world trip, with a route not dissimilar to ours, expect that it left London in April this year! They had two passengers on board, one of whom came onto the radio to ask for our address, as he had taken a photo of us, and was offering to send it home for us, which we thought was very kind. Apart from that, we saw only one ship another day in the distance, and the very bright loom of what we took to be fishing boat lights one night, fortunately well away from us, and unlike many of the other yachts on the net, didn’t see any other yachts either.

The radio schedule included a fishing competition - entries ranged from large fish caught on a line, to flying fish landing on the decks over night - the record, I think, being 66! We generally had many fewer flying fish than that, thankfully, as they always seemed to slide under a coil of rope, waiting till the sun was strong to make their presence felt, and unlike some of the other boats, we are not fish eaters for breakfast! One day, John watched a small squid jump all the way across the boat and land on the deck on the other side. We decided to try him on the end of our fishing line, which we have been trailing behind on and off since the Caribbean, to no effect. The lures are plastic squid, so we wondered if the real thing would be any more successful. It was, to the extent that John saw a fish splash as it took the squid, but it managed to get itself off the hook before we could haul it in. Encouraged by that, the following day we tried a flying fish as bait, and this time secured a 28 inch dorado or mahi mahi, as they are known in the Pacific. Never having caught one before, we were quite unprepared to deal with it, but finally managed to kill and fillet it in the cockpit, without covering the boat in scales and blood. The first night it tasted delicious, but by the second night its texture had disappointingly turned into something not unlike cotton wool. So we stopped being envious of people who had caught bigger ones! Many people manage to catch tuna, and we have decided to put back any more mahi mahi, should we ever succeed again!

This was the first passage so far when it has been necessary to bake bread. We have tried once or twice before, with pretty dubious results (you could have used the result of the first attempt to kill a fish!) We are at the moment using the fast action dried yeast brought from home (which is getting rather close to its use-by date), and found the results quite reasonable, although it does require a lot of kneading. And though rising should be simple with that type of yeast and in these temperatures, it turns out that even wrapped in its plastic bag, bread won’t rise in a draft, and of course we are trying to keep air moving through the boat to keep us cool! The second attempt was more successful, with a better rise, bulging over the top of the tin in a most promising manner, by dint of putting it into the switched off oven. But when it came out of the oven, for the oven to be heated up, it collapsed like an underdone soufflé. We have a plan for the next time! One treat that occurs with bread making is a sort of Chelsea bun, made from the left over dough. These don’t keep at all well, so have to be eaten quite quickly for elevenses, tea and on night watches! The bread conversely, not really being soft and with that baker’s fresh light texture when first baked, does keep quite well, as it maintains its slightly moist but also slightly solid texture just the same for several days. It tastes better thinly cut, which also helps it to last!

To avoid bread baking so far, we have been using a trick published in one of the sailing cookery books, namely brushing newly bought loaves with vinegar, then wrapping them in plastic. This has kept bread for up to 2 weeks, in a cool(ish) locker before it goes mouldy. However the Villamil bead was already so moist, that despite the vinegar treatment, it had started to grow mould before the end of our first week at sea. So the slices become smaller and smaller as edges are cut off, until finally baking becomes inevitable!

It is not just laziness that has made us reluctant to bake - we have a mixture of gas bottles which are not always possible to re-fill, so are trying on the whole to conserve gas, and of course the oven uses a lot, as well as making the inside of the boat incredibly hot!

Back to the sailing - Just Magic continued to streak ahead, and though we calculated that they were going at much the same speed as they had been, we decided that it is more depressing to be left behind than to be caught up! Still, there were few boats in our radio schedule which overtook us, and anyway we were pleased with our just-under-20 day passage.

Watching other boats’ performance against ours did lead us to discover an interesting inefficiency, we think in wind-vane steering, but maybe in the way we have been sailing Flame. We navigate by GPS, using to it plot out position daily on the chart, and using its other various functions: distance run; distance to go; course we need to steer; deviation from that course. We had, along with many of the other boats in the net, found it difficult to keep Flame on the exact course required - the wind direction meant that one either headed up a little above the course, or had to adjust the sails and sail on the other side, so we were all doing a constant little zigzag across the set course. So the GPS constantly showed up to a few miles deviation in one direction or the other. We normally count our day’s run based upon distance run since the same time yesterday, and just use the distance to go figure for interest. However, on this passage, we discovered that if we calculated the day’s run using the difference between today’s and yesterday’s distance to go figure, it differed by 7 and sometimes as much as 9% from the distance run calculation (always less!). Which meant that the zigzags were costing us something like 10 miles a day, or one and a half days on this passage. This gave us yet one more thing to concentrate on to try to make sure that we "gave away" as few miles as possible. Had we been able to retrieve those miles, we would have been neck and neck with Just Magic! Matters were made more complicated when we discovered that the emergency handheld GPS, from a different manufacturer to the main GPS, gives different results, although it agrees on our position at any given time!

Interestingly, many of the people we have since talked to, even when they have wind-vane steering, prefer to use their electronic systems whenever possible, as they steer a straighter course. We are still trying to find someone to talk to who relies totally on their wind-vane, as we want to do for power generation reasons, and who has got to grips with this problem. Watch this space!

As we approached the southern-most Marquesan island of Fatu Hiva, on our last day at sea, the wind began to drop, so we hoisted the spinnaker to keep our speed up and to try to ensure that we were in in under 20 days. We kept it up over night, not normally our policy except in very light airs, assisted by inserting both spinnaker poles, one in each corner, to prevent a possible wrap round the forestay (where the sail tangles itself irretrievably round the forestay and becomes almost impossible to take down) and also assisted by the very bright moonlight, which allowed us to watch it closely and clearly.

The following morning John sighted a very chunky, short faint grey outline of an island, and then the outlying low rock which lies dangerously in the northern approach, just occasionally visible above the swell. As we approached, the island hardened into a fantastic sight, intense green, with steep ridges and valleys all along the eastern side, running down into the sea, all clad with trees and what appeared to be grass. Clouds out to sea with us were moving towards the peaks on the island and gathering there, hiding them, but making the island very visible under its bank of cloud, while the rest of the sky stayed largely clear.

We sailed around the northern end of the island, got the spinnaker down in a sudden gust of wind, and motored into the anchorage, which was really spectacular: a deep bay, with tall hills behind, steep cliffs lining the anchorage and extraordinary tall pinnacle rock formations topping some of the cliffs. The trees and grass came right to the cliff edges, sometimes right down to the water and even the palm trees were an intense green, unlike the rather yellowing ones we have seen in some drier spots. At the head of the bay was a small stony beach with a few buildings, including a small church, just visible from behind an overlapping cliff.

Just Magic indicated a space in which to anchor, and hooted their welcome as did a couple of other boats. The chain stuck in the chain locker, so that we didn’t drop the anchor quite where we had intended and were just about to lift it and start again when Barry and Annette (from Just Magic) appeared in their dinghy, bearing a large plate of open sandwiches and a bottle of fizz, so we turned off the engine and settled down with them to enjoy a celebration lunch.

John & Helen Fleming
Flame of Gosport
7 June 2001