Into the Red Sea

As dawn's first light illuminated the horizon, DK gracefully carried us into the gateway of another world. The wind was light for these parts at only 20 knots, and the seas only 1 meter, as we speedily approached the busy shipping channel under a port tack broad reach. We turned to starboard and slipped along the restricted zone of Yemen's Perim Island before committing to crossing the shipping channel to the northwest. We were now officially sailing through the infamous, "Straits of Bab el Mandeb", often referred to as the "Gate of Sorrows" or "Gate of Tears", the very narrow section of water that joins the Red Sea to the Gulf of Aden. Winds often funnel through this area at 30-50 knots and if the current is against the wind, huge standing waves can be common. We have heard that sunrise is the best time to transit the Strait, and so we find ourselves luckily crossing the shipping channel with only 20-25 knots of wind at our back, a favorable 1 knot current, and a dreamy African sunrise.

We are now officially out of the Indian Ocean and into the Red Sea!

We left Aden, Yemen, yesterday at about 1 p.m (March 15). Aden turned out to be mixed blessing for us. The people and the culture we experienced there were amazing. Yemen now ranks up there with having the most genuine welcoming and friendly people we have met anywhere. That says a lot considering all the places we have been on this journey. The history of the land and the culture there are a huge piece of the history of mankind and this is one place we really felt like we were truly "in another world". Yemen is definitely high on the list as a place I would return to for an adventurous 'off the boat' travel experience someday.

The reason, however, Yemen was a mixed blessing is because we were both mentally exhausted from our convoy experience and our boat projects were long and grueling. I had my worst filling diesel experience ever there, my worst engine sea water impeller change, and after almost 12 hours of energy attempting to fix our KISS wind generator, it still doesn't work. Then there was the VHF issues and the autopilot issues, a loud nightclub directly in front of our boat that blasted Yemeni music until 5 in the morning when the hundreds of "call to prayers" from the mosques start up to bring in the new day. We still did our best to have a balance of seeing Aden, taking care of business, as well as mentally recovering for our next leg

The first day coming through the Straits of Bab El Mandeb we rode the winds and waves throughout the day and night further north along the coast of Eritrea, a small country directly to the east of Ethiopia. As the morning turned into mid-day the winds and seas had built pushing from behind at 30-35+ knots and 2+ meter seas. We were making some of our fastest speeds on DK yet, surfing the waves with just a double-reefed main at 8-10 knots and feeling totally comfortable. Dolphins greeted us in the afternoon and once again exhibited their love for surfing as we watched 5-8 at a time elegantly riding the 6-8 foot backlit breaking waves right behind our stern.

We sailed on into the night enjoying the strong breeze and appreciating the fact that even though there were some other sailboats not far away, we were on our own and not accountable to anyone else again. Delta One was liberated.

The next day (March 17) the winds mellowed and we ended up having to motor-sail to make it to our intended anchorage in Howakil Bay before dark. As we neared the group of islands around Umm Es Sahrig in Howakil Bay, our intended desert island anchorage, the sea became alive. Flocks of thousands of boobies and terns spun circles around us and our fishing lures, huge schools of fish leapt and splashed on the waters edge, and large chalky-colored jellyfish pulsed underneath the surface. We haven't seen so many seabirds since the west coast of Mexico and big smiles came over our faces. We were loving it and all the stress and frustration of the last few weeks slipped away.

We dropped our hook in sand in the lee of the small limestone desert island in 20+ knots of wind, but with almost no swell, cracked open a cold beer and melted into our new world.

The next day (March 18) we were off at sunrise with the destination of a place called Shumma Island, about 45 miles north, which we had read is a beautiful spot. The lures were put out, earl gray tea in hand, and the day had begun. It wasn't 30 minutes later that I looked back to see us dragging a fish. It must not be too big, I thought, poor little guy. We slowed the boat down and brought our hand-line in until I had the fish next to the boat, gaff in hand. What first I thought was a mahi mahi, turned out to be something altogether new and different. It had the general shape and head of a mahi, but with a cool strange spotty pattern, and fins like a tuna. It was also pretty big; a few feet long and maybe 20 lbs. or so. We weren't sure what it was and decided not to keep it as we didn't want to kill it if we didn't even like the taste of the meat. I reached down and wiggled our flashy spoon lure out of it's lip and it slipped away into the depths to live another day.

The wind died and changed directions to 5 knots to the NE and we motor-sailed along all day once again enchanted by the thousands of seabirds and huge schools of bait fish. It was early afternoon and Nicole was busily doing sink-full after sink-full of handwash, since our engine and watermaker were constantly on, when I noticed a large shape on the water's surface just 30 feet away. I yelled to Nicole and she hustled up to the cockpit just in time to see a huge neck and shell break the sea's surface. We could see it perfectly, our first ever endangered Leatherback Sea Turtle! All of you who know Nicole can imagine her excited response when she becomes ecstatic with joy over something she cares so much about. She made me smile for hours.

As we approached the narrow pass through the coral reef to enter the protected lagoon of Shumma Island, another fish hit. Nic and I were both winding our hand-lines back in when all of a sudden Nic yelled and I looked at her face intense with concentration and arm muscles flexed fighting to hang onto the hand-line plastic spool. Only 25 feet out or so while she was reeling in the lure a tuna hit. Carefully she passed me the spool and I tied it off as a back-up before starting to hand over hand the line in along our starboard beam. I gaffed the tuna and pulled it onboard as Nic took some photos. It was a perfectly-sized 15 pound skipjack tuna, a fish which we hadn't caught in ages.

We slipped in thru the pass easily in good afternoon light, with Nicole high in the spreaders looking for shallow coral, and dropped our hook in the lagoon of Shumma Island. Two other boats were anchored not far way, at first we thought they were fishing boats, but later we saw they were actually tourist boats from nearby Massawa, Eritrea, doing an overnight trip camping along the shore. Tourist boats from Eritrea?? We were kind of shocked on that one.

We were stoked. Dolphins swam by at dusk as the golden globe sank into the mainland of Africa only 20 miles away. We enjoyed a peaceful evening under the stars eating some freshly caught tuna.

It's now March 19th and we are still anchored at Shumma Island. Last night the NW winds picked up (we knew they were coming) and a swell entered the lagoon (but we didn't expect that). DK rolled from side to side most of the night and we barely slept. Groggily we woke and had a light brekkie and tea before taking super dingy to shore for our first walk on African soil.

The land is limestone, filled with embedded fossils and huge shells lie scattered all over the scrubby surface. Big umbrella-like desert trees dot the land and thorny bushes and shrubs grow through barren substrate. The air is hot and the sky is desert-hazy. There are animal droppings everywhere: donkey? camel? goat? We're not sure, but it looks like there are definitely four-footed creatures tromping around somewhere on this 2 mile diameter low-lying island.

We walk the sandy beaches and find a hermit crab convention and heaps of seaweed at the water's edge. The big discovery of the day are the beautiful "venus comb" shells, brittle, barbed, and gorgeous, only to be found in Africa. We find many of them, but most of them with a resident. One is vacant and Nicole is ecstatic.

After our walk we put DK's stern anchor out to keep our bow pointing into the swell so we can actually sleep tonight. The tourist boats leave and we find ourselves all alone. Nic made a big egg and potato brunch and now we are catching up on our writing, enjoying the tranquility of this new place and extremely excited for the next Red Sea adventures to come.

Home Free

Day 6 and it's all over:

Local Date: Tuesday, March 9
Local Yemen Time (3 hours ahead of GMT): 14:10
DK Position: N 12 47.502', E 44 58.733'
Anchored in Aden, Yemen

We're 15 miles out of Aden when the huge stepped desert cliffs materialize out of the dusty haze. Stucco and whitewashed structures are perched on the cliffs. A sandy tongue of sand slithers through the valley between two peaks lapping at the sea with the look of an Arabian glacier. A big fish launches out of the water and brown booby birds do fly-bys.

Joost, Alpha 1, our leader, gives his final talk on the VHF congratulating our group and we all thank him for his valiant effort and energy making this all happen. He did an amazing job and I am sure he is just as exhausted as we are.

The last 10 miles we take turns calling Aden port control to tell them our boat details and then finally we dismantle the groups and follow each other into the harbor in single file. We take the back. We know the anchoring will be chaotic and we are happy to just chill out at last and take in our surroundings in our own sweet time. I finally turn off the VHF and don't plan on turning it on again for days. It's been non-stop and I am exhausted by it.

We are finally here!! We drop our hook in a tightly packed little anchorage now filled with not only our 17 boats from our convoy (3 of our French boats have kept going up the Red Sea), but also the "Vasco de Gama" Rally of 12 boats that just came south down the Red Sea. We needed a shoehorn to fit in here, but thankfully the other convoy said they are leaving in a few hours, so we will actually soon get a little space.

We are extremely glad this one is over. We feel success at having all made it here safely and intact. I don't feel the "I am so psyched" feeling I get after certain accomplishments, but more like, "I am so f**ing glad that is over!"

This convoy thing was no easy task. We recognize the effort that it took for everyone to stay together. There were many frustrating experiences, some really selfish people, and for us, some very scary near-miss collision situations. Most people were tense, nervous, frustrated, and exhausted more than once. Yet, everyone chose to follow the pack, try to communicate, and stick to together. This took a lot of patience, effort, and dedication.

Thankfully, regarding pirates, we saw, nor heard of any pirate attacks along the way. Did a pirate boat see us?? Were they deterred to attack us because of our convoy?? We will never know the answers but we do know that we are here safe and sound.

Nic and I just decided not even to go to shore to check in today. We just need to decompress, relax, watch a movie, and get some real rest. Plus, a break from the pack will probably let some of the bad memories slip away and we will be in a more positive mood tomorrow.

So we would like to thank all of you for your support, your love, and your positive energy thinking about us along our journey. We appreciate all of you and feel blessed that we have so many people who care about us and what we are choosing.

"Delta One, Over and Out"

Save Us From Ourselves

Day 5 in the Gulf of Aden:

Local Date: Monday, March 8
Local OMANI Time (4 hours ahead of GMT): 12:45
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 5.2 knots
Wind: ESE 12-15 knots
Seas: 2-3 feet from the SE
Distance to Aden, Yemen: 130 miles

I wake up to the startling blast of our horn and the boat hard over to port. I lurch up the stairs and hear Gar reporting a
sailboat coming head on through our fleet. Gar is shaking, scared, angry, and confused about what happened. It is clear a boat
from Alpha turned into the fleet to raise his mainsail without notifying the fleet or turning masthead or deck lights on. This
is maddening. We too would like to sail but we signed on to go at convoy speed without compromising our maneuverability with
sails. Once again, a very near miss, I can see his stern lights and the outline of his sails clearly. He was seriously only
feet from our starboard side. At night this is one of the scariest things to see. That makes three.

Everyone is rattled. There have been too many close calls, too close. Gar is trying to identify the boat so they know what they have done. Once the boat is identified Delta 5 is swearing insultingly at the "Crazy" French man. I am embarrassed by the
American's response and appalled at the selfishness I have seen out here. Close calls make everything more intense. I am happy
to be alive and in love. The captain will not take responsibility nor apologize and again we have another night on edge. Our
eyes are acutely sharp as we watch the entire fleets movements closely. We monitor real time with our eyes, the radar, and chart plotter. We are overly cautious. Gar is clearly freaked out. He asks the Delta fleet to give him space, a lot of it. Delta 4 respectfully agrees to a minimum of 800 feet from our stern. At last, they are far enough away I can no longer see them in their
nav seat.

I slip back into bed, wrapping myself up in my sheet and blanket like a burrito. i try to calm myself down. I am grateful for
another two hours where I do not have to watch this world and be responsible for our group and what happens in it. Sleep does
not come, my heart is racing, my stomach is in knots and I am dreading another night of this. Also, our instruments went out
again yesterday afternoon for a couple of hours so my hearing senses are acutely focused. I am listening for the alarm that beeps when they go out. Gar has been on watch for over 13 hours as he wanted to monitor the instruments. I am worried about him too.

Most of my watch is quiet. I came on at 22:00 as the big dipper climbed higher while the southern cross sat on our port side. I am trying to hold our position in the fleet but Charlie has slipped back again and Bravo is still behind us. My watch gets
trickier. I now have to watch Alpha in front and the Bravo and Charlie Group in addition to the rest of the Delta group from
behind.

There were more changes yesterday. Charlie 5's engine went out. He is a big 30 tonne mono hull. Some heartening things
happened here. The convoy slowed way down in order to give Charlie 5 time to fix their engine. The conditions were terribly
uncomfortable for traveling under reduced sails. We were making 2 knots in 3 foot swell and 16-20 knots of wind. Delta 5
called to tell me I could do my laundry we were pitching and rolling so badly. We were in the agitation cycle. Surprisingly
everyone in the fleet slowed down and waited. Almost no one complained as we all moved very slowly for hours despite the fact
that our Tuesday arrival seemed to be slowly slipping away from us. They got the engine fixed and then it faltered again. Fixed
and faltered. Selflessly, Bravo 1 volunteered to give them a tow. Towing can at times be very hard on the tow boat, strain on
the engine and the boat is very common. By nightfall, Charlie 5 agreed to a tow and they were towed by Bravo 1 to Alpha 2's
position. Their new names are T1 and T2. Charlie 5 moved with their engine assisting the tow throughout the night from 4.7 to
5.7 knots. Good speed. This act, gives me hope in humanity and this convoy.

Two hours into my watch I saw a boat from Alpha 1 move across the fleet and out to starboard well away from everyone.
Thankfully, they were moving out rather than towards the fleet. I made contact but with the wrong boat. Two hours later the
boat was still falling behind. At 02:35, four and a half hours into my watch, delta five contacted me asking about the boat that
was just crossing his bow and coming my way. He was out of his formation and coming into our Delta convoy, very close to Delta
5. It all happened too fast. I made contact but Delta 5 jumped in. "I don't care about what's best for your sail angle or your
speed, You are in my space, you cut across my bow. You f**king crazy Frenchman. What is wrong with you f**king crazy
Frenchman... and on and on. I was seething, my heart was racing. Embarrassed by Delta 5's attack on another nationality (Delta
is now definitely the A**hole American group), but also pissed that this French yacht thought that because he was "in control"
of his own yacht as a professional skipper with thousands of miles of experience and years on the sea it was ok for him to
maneuver into our fleet risking a possible collision.

It is amazing to us how different people are in this convoy. Some are selfless and completely willing to sacrifice for the
benefit of the group and others are selfish and continually want to do what's best for themselves. Thankfully this morning and
afternoon all has been quiet. We have a nice wind and are motor sailing comfortably at 5.2-5.8 knots. Thankfully our Tuesday
arrival is most definitely within reach now. The air is crisp and clean. A little bird has visited 3 boats in the Delta fleet
and has put a smile on everyone's face. (I hope it comes to us next.) We have seen no pirates, only two fishing boats at a far
distance. The radio in our large fleet is refreshingly silent and we hear no talk of pirate attacks by the warships in our area. If all goes well for the next 24-30 hours we will be safely in Aden and will likely have become our own worst enemies in these waters.

In Peace,

The Admiral and her Captain

Day 4 in the Gulf of Aden

Local Date: Sunday, March 7
Local OMANI Time (4 hours ahead of GMT): 13:40
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 4.2 knots
Wind: NE 15 knots
Seas: 2-4 feet from the SE
Distance to Aden, Yemen: 244 miles

"Bravo Five, this is Delta One", at 01:00 in the middle of the night, I call out on the VHF over and over.
"Alpha Six, this is Delta One, looks like we have a sleeper coming our way."
"Roger, Delta One, let's watch him closely so we don't get run over."

Bravo Five has fallen asleep on watch and gone off course. We were already within 1/4 mile from them before they peeled out of their convoy and started heading towards us. Nice.

Alpha Six and I continue to try to hail them on the VHF to no avail. When they are within shouting distance of us, we pull out our signal horns and blast them. It works. They wake up, groggily respond on the VHF that they weren't asleep (yeah right) and head back to their group. No apology, no "sorry we won't do it again". Everyone is tired, but some boats have really had trouble keeping good watches and keeping their VHF radio's on. Pretty irresponsible and dangerous in my book.

Another hour goes by, but the excitement never ends. At 02:00, a fishing boat is spotted on radar by the fleet and heading our way. It looks to be a traditional dhow closing in fast with a speed of 10 knots. The chatter goes around the VHF for everyone to pay close attention and get ready to try to get out of the way, that is, if you even can. The boat approaches Alpha Five on the upper right triangle of our convoy still going 10 knots. Everyone's breath is held and the VHF is totally silent. All of a sudden it turns south suddenly and begins crossing just off the bows of the Alpha Group, the lead boats in the convoy, close enough to almost touch and still doing almost 10 knots. The Alpha Group slows down fast and barely misses the fishing boat, then the dhow turns and runs down the width of the convoy along the side of Bravo Group.

Bravo Group collapses in towards the middle of the convoy, a couple of the boats come within a few hundred feet from me, extremely close in the night, one of my eyes fixed on their green and red running lights and one fixed on the radar screen. A lot of confusion is happening in the group and then I notice a sailboat from the Alpha Group doing a 180 heading after the Dhow, just missing Bravo One, the lead group of Bravo, and looking totally out of control.

They finally stop and do a 180 with the realization of what just happened. Mark, the captain, gets on the radio sounding totally confused trying to make sense of what just happened. What happened was he had to wake his crew to take the helm while he dealt with an emergency VHF call from a coalition boat down below. His crew, still asleep and hand-steering, all confused from the Dhow fishing boat, thought the Dhow was Alpha One, the lead boat in our convoy, and pulled out of the convoy to follow it. They didn't realize what was going on until almost colliding with Bravo One. The Dhow fishing boat speeds away having no idea what kind of scare and chaos it just created.

It very well could turn out that we are our worst enemies in these waters.

We mentioned already that our convoy is made up of 20 boats. Our leader is a Dutch boat named, "Halfskip". Joost, the Captain, has really been doing a great job trying to manage this lot. There are a few other Dutch boats, a boat from Belgium, a few French boats, some Kiwi's, and the rest split between the UK and the Americans. As you can imagine, we are all very different sizes and styles, ranging from a 32' monohull, to a 65' catamaran, not to mention how different we all are as far as being sailors. All of us have 2-3 people on board, the ones with 3 definitely have it easier with the amount of intensity directed towards keeping a tight course and very attentive watches.

This morning another shift in the ranks. Charlie Two, an American boat, asks permission from his group leader and Alpha One to change to our group, Delta Group. He has been having trouble with Charlie One, the group leader, for days. Charlie One and Charlie Two don't really see "eye to eye" with where they should be in the convoy position, and to Charlie Two's credit, I have to agree with him. The Charlie Group have a tendency to wander all over the place, sometimes drifting a mile away from the convoy and sometimes way slower. The group leader almost always thinks he is in the right place, however, and as you can imagine, leads to some frustration among the group members.

So now Delta group is back to 5, all the Yankees in the same group. Funny, yeah? Put all the loud Americans in the back of the pack. Besides Delta 5, our new addition is one of the most talkative in the convoy. Now they are right next to each other.

We are only two days out from Aden, but now in the very real infamous stretch called "pirate alley" where most of the commercial boat hijackings happen that you read about in the news all the time. Even though only 1 sailing yacht has been taken in this area in the last 2 years, the commercial boats and tankers are chased and often boarded weekly by the Somalia pirates.

The coalition convoy is closely monitoring us but they are also watching and patrolling the "corridor" just south of us. The corridor is a U.N. patrolled shipping lane where all the commercial tankers and cargo ships transit from and to the Red Sea. Right now on our AIS display, I can see 35 boats, from 40 miles to 200 miles away. Just 50 miles south of us at this very moment I can see a commercial/tanker ship convoy of boats in tight formation, just like we all our here. There are 23 boats from 400 feet to 1000 feet long right next to each other traveling at 11 knots. They are smart. Most likely they also have the protection of a battleship or some sort of security force.

Like I said, we are now officially in the "high risk" zone.

The winds have come and we now have 15 knots right on our tails with the seas picking up to 2-4 feet. It is rolly. Really rolly. The direction of the wind and waves is all wrong for us little sailboats. Stuff is slamming around in all the cupboards and I am starting to get seasick trying to write this. Overall, however, we are holding up ok. Everyone in the convoy is tired and definitely holding anxiety, but we are doing ok, happy to be nearing the end of this and grateful for our continued safe passage so far.

Big love and many thanks for all the support out there.

"This is Delta 1, over and out for now"

Captain Chuck

almost 1/2 way Day 3

Day 3 in Team DK world:

Local OMANI Time (4 hours ahead of GMT): 11:35
Local Date: Friday, March 5
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 6.0K
Wind: NE 6K
Distance to Aden, Yemen: 383 miles

Deep thoughts from Gar, "You know, this convoy thing is really pretty smart."

Especially around 07:00 when 4 small fishing boats came over the horizon. And then later, when 9 larger fishing boats came
cruising through our fleet so close we could wave at the fisherman and see the expressions on their faces. It was a bit spooky. We decided with the first entry of fishing boats we would practice our defense tactics. So we went through the exercise, practice for pirates, tightening ranks and closing in on Alpha. We learned a lot of things. Many of them old. The most obvious and well known is that the slowest boat should not be in the back. Saroni is the slowest boat, except for the lead boat. To get into tactical position, we have to wait for our convoy to catch and tighten up. It took us 11 minutes to tighten up and head toward Alpha group. Way too long.

What to do? The only real solution is to move Saraoni up in front. The problem is the way the groups were organized- in order of when the boat signed up. We signed up last so we are the back of the pack. Playfully referred to as "pirate bait". No one wanted to switch to come back with Delta except someone willing in Charlie but it didn't really solve the problem so now Saraoni is up with Alpha and we have one less boat to manage. We are now traveling in a diamond formation.

There is never a dull moment in this convoy. Alpha 1 called for an engine check stop for 10 minutes. All boats stopped in
formation except one. A Delta rogue, Delta 3. They are now positioned directly behind our stern and with a tighter formation (recommendation from what we learned with our earlier exercise). You guessed it, they just missed slamming into us at 6 knots. Our angels have been busy. Thank You! Please keep the positive thoughts flying our way. We can use all we get.

Few, we are exhausted. Managing this group is a constant job. It is almost ridiculous. Seriously, I go to the bathroom with the hand held VHF. On watch, I do nothing other than watch the boats around me, manage our track, and look for ships and boats on the radar and the horizon.

Smart? Smart. We wouldn't really want to do it any other way. It is the best offense we can have other than a warship. Hopefully it will be worth it. We both have back aches, more grey hairs and bags under our eyes. I am wearing patches on my shoulders to relieve the tension and Gar should put one on his lower back but he doesn't want a wax.

The sky is a cloudy shade of blue and the sun is bursting through. It is hot but good to see some brightness in our days. Birds feed on the surface and sargasso sea weed floats by.

"This is Delta 1, over and out for now."

Admiral "Patches" and Captain Chuck (Norris, that is)

Day 2

Day 2 in Team DK world:

Local OMANI Time (4 hours ahead of GMT): 15:05
Local Date: Thursday, March 4
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 04.3K
Wind: NE 4.7K
Distance to Aden, Yemen: 475 miles

The VHF crackles to life again. "Delta 1 this is Delta 5, I think you are in danger of being taken over by your group, over."

It is obvious. It's 05:13 and it's still dark. We run with deck lights aft and stern to avoid being seen at long distances. I can see green and white and red and white lights coming directly up my stern. It is tricky, we should stay .5 miles behind Alpha 1, the lead group and .25 from both of our flanks. Controlling speed and course is challenging to say the least with 20 boats traveling at different speeds and with different approaches.

At 00:13 hours a large wooden dhow fishing boat cruised quickly through our convoy, uncomfortably close. When they left I could
smell the stink of animals on the wind. He must have been transporting cattle.

It is a bit eerie out here, no wind, almost a reflective sea, silver skies and a light peach sun. O'Flo, our friends with the
fuel issue reconnected with us at sunrise this morning.

Everyone listening to us must be chuckling. Rendez Vous Kay and Saraoni are at it again. Bickering over their speed and
position. I think it might be a game for them now. They are amiable this morning.

We needed something exciting to happen. No wind and flat seas and a lot of miles to go. This afternoon Gar gave the fleet
something to talk about. We were being pinched on both sides buy the Bravo and Charlie group and were trying to get back into
position. Talking through it on the radio with the groups we were trying to problem solve so we could slip back in. Anyone who
knows Gar knows people who seem selfish and stubborn rub him the wrong way. I never should have given him the radio. He got
rubbed and took the bait. Gar lost his cool and played the ugly American card. This guy was been playing the pompous sailor.
Things have cooled down and Gar apologized as did this other guy. The group is back on track and we have returned to our proper
position within the fleet.

A huge school of dolphins just crossed our bow. Also, super cool and really comforting, the Coalition Forces who have been
tracking our progress sent an Australian chopper for a fly by today. The chopper cruised low and circled around all of the
boats. It's good to know they're watching out for us. We'll keep on moving. Hoping for a Tuesday am arrival.

Onward.

We're Off

Day 1 in Team DK world:

Local OMANI Time (4 hours ahead of GMT): 17:05
Local Date: Thursday, March 4
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 04.5K
Wind: NE 4.7K
Distance to Aden, Yemen: 569 miles

"Delta One, this is Alpha One, what's your etd?"
We are Delta One, the leaders of the Delta group, the back of the pack.
We left this morning under cloudy skies at 09:48 following the convoy of a total of 20 boats. We travel with four other boats at our flanks and our stern flanks. There are four groups of five and we travel in diamond formation. Conversations with one of the American boats goes something like this...

"Delta assault leader this is Delta four." -Rendez Vous

"Go ahead Delta four" -Gar

"How do you want our ranks?" -RV

"It would be great if everyone can tighten up once people get sorted with their sails." -Gar (As some of you might know, five boats turning into the wind to raise sails in tight quarters is more than challenging.)

"Can I call you Chuck Norris?"-RV "If you must." -Gar

This is only the beginning. After 5 days we will have some quality quotes we are sure. The other boats are already annoyed with the American chatter and we are trying to find a balance. We are supposed to maintain radio silence which is proving to be a challenge.

Our travel plan is to travel within a half of a mile or so from each of the big groups during daylight and a mile separation at
night. There is no wind and we are in glassy seas so it hasn't been to difficult yet. It is really hot. We sailed through a
huge pod of dolphins at around 1300 hours and motored through a big pod of pilot whales for over an hour. Their fins are huge
when they slice though the water.

Our friends, some young Brits on O'Flo had to turn around to 740 liters of incorrect fuel when they discovered it was diesel when their outboards stopped working. We plan to wait for them and have them catch up in the night.

More tomorrow. Thanks for keeping us in your thoughts.

Across the Arabian Sea

On our last day in Uligan, manta rays once again graced us with their presence. After a morning swim, some tea onboard DK with our new Maldivian friends, Hussein and Imad, and a thorough lashing down of everything onboard, we lifted DK's 55 lb. Delta anchor and slipped through the shallow coral bomies heading towards the Arabian Sea. We were underway.

This was our first passage not submitting position reports and also our first going stealth through pirate waters. To our families and a few friends we emailed daily position reports and a little synopsis or our world. So, seeing that much has already been written, some of you may find it an interesting read.

Day 2
Local Time (5 hours ahead of GMT): 07:45
Local Date: Thursday, Feb. 11
Position: 08 15' N, 071 45' E
COG (Course Over Ground): 322 degrees Magnetic
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 5.8 knots (1 knot current with us)
Wind: light to none from the North
Distance to Oman: 1161 miles

We left yesterday at about 12:15. Two other boats left the day before, and 3 on the same with us, so there are 6 of us within 24 hours of each other. 2 of them are single-handers and 1 is a fast catamaran. Not a single boat is left in Uligan and at least 20 underway towards Oman that we know of.

Not much wind or else all the wind on our nose, so we have been motor-sailing since we left. Weather looks like we will start to get nice 15 knot NE in a couple of days to hopefully have some nice sailing. Today light clouds making it a gray morning.

Went through one of the shipping lanes last night. No problems except ALL the boats now have their AIS systems turned off, making our cool new instrument useless. Weird to be in a Sea where every boat, big and small, is being cautious of the pirate situation. In case some of you haven't read it, we recently posted a BLOG on the pirate situation on our site if you want to
learn a bit more.

So all good with us. Nic is sleeping and I am having my double bag of black tea on my first day off coffee again. blah. I so want a nice cup of french roast right now, but coffee and new passages don't mix well for my seasickies.
Nothing else to report. Mellow so far....


Day 3
Local Maldives Time (5 hours ahead of GMT): 08:15
Local Date: Friday, Feb. 12
Position: 09 55' N, 069 46' E
COG (Course Over Ground): 305-315 degrees Magnetic
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 6.5 knots
Wind: NE 12-17
Distance to Oman: 1011 miles

Looks like we went about 150 miles yesterday. Wind started picking up about 17:00 hours and clocked to the NE, thankfully. We've been scooting along all night and morning at 6-7 knots on a beam to broad reach. Nice. Seas still pretty small at 3-6 feet, so a little rolly, but overall no complaints as we are making miles fast.

Only bummers have been our wind generator stopped working and our toilet is plugged up, again. Yeah, I know, you can pretty much imagine my temperament dealing with taking the toilet apart and the head hoses off while on a rolly beam reach. Especially after the huge toilet job I just did in Langkawi not many months ago. Right now I have some muriatic acid soaking some of the head hoses, hopefully that will do the trick...

And, of course, now that we have great wind for generating power with our wind gen, it needs a big overhaul with new bearings and such. Basically, a fairly big job I need to do while at anchor that will take some hours to replace all the internal parts. Of course, what would a passage be without some things breaking and a list to fix once you arrive to the next port?? But the timing....uggghh...boats...

We were stealth last night with no lights on. Went through some more shipping lanes and also Nic piloted through a group of 6 fishing boats. No problems. We are still pretty far away from where most of the pirate activity usually takes place, but we are being careful.

Not much out here. A few birds and flying fish, but pretty benign right now. We're not fishing as it's pretty rough and we are still pretty stocked with wahoo and mackerel from the Andamans.

Slowly getting into the passage rhythm again...


Day 4
Local Maldives Time (5 hours ahead of GMT): 07:45
Local Date: Saturday, Feb. 13
Position: 11 11' N, 067 58' E
COG (Course Over Ground): 300-305 degrees Magnetic
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 6.5 knots
Wind: NNE 10-15
Distance to Oman: 882 miles
Distance traveled last 24 hours (approximate): 135 miles

Wind stronger last night with more pushy seas at 15-20+ knots and seas breaking along our boat at 6-7 feet. Wet in most of the cockpit and waves constantly on deck. We reefed and slowed down a bit and just sat in the darkness rolling and bucking along.

Ships around from time to time, but no fishing boats. Sometimes when we get too close to a big ship we put our tricolor mast light on and they return by turning on their AIS for a bit. We both can see where we are better and our intended course. Then we pass each other and return to the darkness. Most of the big ships keep some navigation lights on though, but turn off their
AIS.

Good news on the toilet. After about 4 hours straight yesterday morning dismantling the "whole entire" unit in the rolly seas, it is now fully-serviced and working the best it ever has. Thank the Gods (for all you "Battlestar Galactica" followers)! Yeah, you could picture it right, me, waking up in DK being pitched from side to side, no coffee, and back into the head for a really fun mix of greasy tools, poop water, and small delicate brass parts to put together in exactly the right way while the boat is throwing me and everything else all over the place. Fun. The good thing is that it is over with.

But, of course, a new problem now. Instruments and autopilot still on the fritz. Sometimes they just decide to stop working. Nice. Thankfully with our new chart-plotters that have GPS built in, we are still up with that system with our chart, plotting, GPS, and radar. The things that go out are our electric autopilot, wind gauge, speed and depth. We don't "need" that stuff out here, but sure would be nice if i could finally figure that one out. Right now it is back on and i am testing it to see if it will work again for a while. Last passage it worked great for a few days, then all of a sudden, on the fritz for a day with it turning itself "off" every 5 minutes or so. Then, it decides it is working again, and does great for the next 5 days straight in all weather and sea conditions. Go figure.
Our monitor windvane is working great, though, and is doing most of the auto-steering anyway. As long as there's wind, we'll keep the monitor steering.

Still lumpy out so not exactly "peaceful", but at least we are making miles and getting closer to the home-plate.


Day 5:
Local Maldives Time (5 hours ahead of GMT): 08:10
Local Date: Sunday, Feb. 14
Position: 12 27' N, 065 41' E
COG (Course Over Ground): 300-305 degrees Magnetic
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 6-7 knots
Wind: NE 10-15
Distance to Oman: 729 miles
Distance traveled last 24 hours (approximate): 155 miles

Not much to report today. As they say in Thailand, "same same but different".

Winds still from the NE and moving from 10-20 knots. Last night on the stronger side with some pushy wet seas. This morning gray skies and seas and wind down a bit, but still moving along at 6-7 knots boat speed. We are always happy when we are making miles.

Toilet good and autopilot hasn't needed to be on since our windvane has been doing all the work. Our friend, Jim on SV Cardea, who is in Sydney, just emailed us about the autopilot. Seems he used to have the exact same problem and so have many other sailors he knows. The problem is with our Raymarine ST6002 control head which controls the brains of the system. It has issues. Nothing we can do about it now until we can send the unit back to Raymarine for a fix, but at least we know what the problem is. It's been like this ever since we left Palau when we put this new unit in. The funny thing, or not so funny to us, is that we replaced our autopilot because our old one would randomly turn itself "on" and take over the wheel. Not good when we have our windvane on as the 2 systems fight each other. But now our new autopilot likes to randomly turn itself "off". Classic. I just love marine electronics.

No other boat problems, just in our routine of sleeping, eating, reading......

No boats around for the last 24 hours which is good too. Almost half way to Oman and happy for it.


Day 6:
Local Maldives Time (5 hours ahead of GMT): 08:15
Local Date: Monday, Feb. 15
Position: 13 35' N, 063 17' E
COG (Course Over Ground): 300-305 degrees Magnetic
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 6-7 knots
Wind: NNE 13-18
Distance to Oman: 573 miles
Distance traveled last 24 hours (approximate): 160 miles

Gray skies this morning and cold cold cold. Weather has really changed at night these past couple of days as we get further north. Putting the layers on at night just like the old days sailing in California. Strange to actually be up this far north again, our first time since Mexico when we were at this northern latitude. Pretty sure we will have some chilly nights in the
Red Sea coming up too as it is full-on winter in the Med right now.

All good with us. Just plugging away the miles. Not much boat traffic in these parts and the wind has been pretty consistent from the NNE and NE at 12-20 knots average. We still have about a 1 knot current against us, otherwise we would be averaging around 7 knots/hour instead of our usual 6 lately. We are over half way there though, and happy for it. Weather is indicating stronger winds and bigger seas in the next couple of days, so we will get ready for a wet and sloppy ride with our beam reach point of sail.



Day 7
Local Maldives Time (5 hours ahead of GMT): 08:25
Local Date: Tuesday, Feb. 16
Position: 14 38' N, 060 59' E
COG (Course Over Ground): 290-295 degrees Magnetic
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 6-7 knots
Wind: ENE 13-18
Distance to Oman: 425 miles
Distance traveled last 24 hours (approximate): 150 miles

Did we mention that it is cold yet??? :) Foulie bottoms on at night for the first time since ???maybe 2 years ago in New Zealand, I think. Nic, of course, has at least 2 more layers on then me. Both of us are still holding out for shoes. We haven't worn shoes on this boat since, I know for sure, 2 years ago in New Zealand. Chilly in the wee hours of 0-dark thirty, but so worth it not to slip on the boat sneaks. We love being barefoot.

We are both still doing well. The highlight of the night was a phosphorescent dreamy episode on the sea. There was a couple of hours where all the whitewater from our boat and the breaking of the waves glowed a beautiful bright green from the abundance of little phosphorescent critters. With a new moon, and pretty much a black sky, the sea was still lit up from the amazing show. Never seen it so beautiful. We definitely get our fairy dusty phosphorescent nights, but the magnitude and luminosity of this one was over the top.
One to remember.

Besides the change in temp (which, btw, makes for great sleeping)and the dreamy glowing waves, we are still just in the zone. Nic is on her 4th or 5th book, and I am on my 3rd. Cooking still sucks in the galley with our point of sail and still the rolly swell where we are living "on the walls", but overall, no complaints as we are on the home stretch and still have great wind for sailing.

Salalah is supposedly a nice little compact anchorage and we think there must be over 30 boats there now. We tried to time our arrival right after the first big convoy of boats leave (20+ boats at once) on the 18th. Looks like our timing will be perfect for arrival on the 19th, as long as everything continues well.


Day 8
Local Maldives Time (5 hours ahead of GMT): 08:10
Local Date: Wednesday, Feb. 17
Position: 15 29' N, 058 32' E
COG (Course Over Ground): 290-295 degrees Magnetic
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 6-7 knots
Wind: ENE 15-20
Distance to Oman: 275 miles
Distance traveled last 24 hours (approximate): 155 miles


Sleepy morning as us not having changed back our clocks to Oman time has caught up to us. We are keeping Maldives time until landfall and now it is dark at 07:00 in the morning and, yes, cold. We have definitely been loving the cooler weather for sleeping though and really really enjoy not soaking our sheet in a pool of sweat every time we lay down.

Wind picked up most of the night to a pushy 20-25+ knots and bigger seas at 7-10'. We're on a broad reach so not too bad except for the occasional breaking wave high along our hull that splashes everything in the cockpit. It's called "getting pooped" in sailor lingo, and basically it just sucks. Just when you are warm and content wedged into the one dry corner of the cockpit, along comes a big 10-footer and crashes onto the transom sending a soaking wet deluge into our little world. DK is now thoroughly covered head-to-toe in a thick layer of salt on EVERYTHING, including ourselves. Sailing-wise we just reef-down and DK's been surfing the waves as we continue making 6-7 knots over ground.

Nic mentioned this morning before she tucked in that this is the first passage where she has really been counting down the days. Both of us just ready to finish this one off. Maybe the combination of us just having had a big passage and also that for the last 7 days we have been on this rolly heeled-over starboard tack where most things are difficult to do besides laying down or curling up in our pillow-protected corner of the cockpit under the dodger with the ipod or a book. We know it could be a lot worse, and really not that bad, but, honestly, we are just ready to be done.


Day 9
Local Maldives Time (5 hours ahead of GMT): 08:15
Local Date: Thursday, Feb. 18
Position: 16 20' N, 056 05' E
COG (Course Over Ground): 290 degrees Magnetic
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 5-6 knots
Wind: NE 8-12
Distance to Oman: 124 miles
Distance traveled last 24 hours (approximate): 150 miles

Ahhhh. The wind has turned more easterly and at last we are on a comfortable broad reach headed down wind. We had a great night surfing along at 6-7 knots even with reefed sails and a counter current. At last we could see a horizon line and our hands in front of our faces again. The sky was so clear the stars were piercingly bright. The sky was full of twinkling friends and we were both grateful for their company. Familiar constellations are slowly making an appearance again although at 10pm the big dipper looks ridiculous resembling a vertical lollypop.

We spent all night acutely aware of ships. Back in heavy shipping zones again. They travel without their AIS on and we are still traveling stealth and dark. The ships are really courteous though and turn their AIS units on around 5 miles away from us. We're not sure if it's a regulation or if they are just being kind. We respond by illuminating our tricolor mast head light until we're sure they've passed us or seen us or switched off their AIS again. This exchange always makes me smile for some reason. Then we go dark again and peer into the darkness for any other little ships that are trying to be invisible as well.

Saved three flying fish last night after hearing them "thwap" against our dodger and behind the cockpit. They are really uncooperative and flap out of grasp. The worst part about it is their wings you kind of have to pin them down to get a good hold on them, then there's their scales that come off with a really slimy glue. Then there's the stench. I've washed my hands numerous times and I can still smell them. Hopefully they're grateful and they actually manage to survive.

We are still holding out. Barefoot in the chilly darkness and all day. I did break down on my 4-7am watch and put on a hat.
Happily our toes are still free.

We should smell land tomorrow night and have our hook down sometime tomorrow after first light.


Day 10
Local OMANI Time (4 hours ahead of GMT): 12:05
Local Date: Friday, Feb. 19
Anchorage Position: 16 56' N, 054 00' E
COG (Course Over Ground): 0 degrees Magnetic
SOG (Speed Over Ground): 0 knots
Wind: NE 5
Distance to Oman: We're here!!!
Distance traveled last 24 hours (approximate): 130 miles

Land Ho! We're here! After a lovely peaceful day of sailing we had to fire up the faithful engine by afternoon. The seas were flat calm and the wind was nearly dead. Gar had to do a quicky fuel filter change underway without mishap, thank be the gods. Put put putting along we passed cargo and tanker ships headed every direction into the Red Sea, India, Oman... We motored all
night at low rpms against a one knot current. Normally we don't welcome a counter current but this was perfect for our am arrival. We kept company with stars and passed a sailboat (turns out it is a cat with 5 younger folks on board). At one point the sea was so calm we could see the reflection of stars on the surface. A bit eerie but a perfect way to end the passage.
MELLOWLY!

This morning we were welcomed to the Middle East by 3 big pods of dolphins (love them), sea gulls, terns, and little birds that sit on the surface of the water and tweet tweet and scatter when we approach. The big orange sun rose directly astern and the light is different. Everything is a bit hazy, brown, beige and bleached bone dry. We are definitely in the desert and happy to be here.

We followed a container ship into this tight port. Now we're med moored with the help of a Kiwi boat and an American. There are 12 boats here now after having 27 leave yesterday in the first big convoy. Seven more are leaving in convoy in a couple of days. We'll work on our repairs tomorrow. Get a solid night's sleep and maybe even eat a big meal tonight.

My lids are starting to droop as I missed my am nap I was so excited to be here. Will write more when words come smoothly.

************

And so we find ourselves in Oman, our first Middle-Eastern country filled with a rich history, an abundance of camels, and some of the friendliest people we have met anywhere! Our life has been the usual balance of doing boat projects, hanging with some of the other cruisers, and exploring the town of Salalah and the fascinating countryside.

We are here until March 4th when we will depart with 19-20 other boats on a big organized convoy heading through "pirate alley" to Aden, Yemen. We are a designated "group leader" boat along with a Kiwi boat and two Dutch boats. The convoy should definitely bring about some quality stories. :)

Will write more about Oman soon

On Pirates

Said to be one of the oldest professions outside of prostitution and practicing medicine, piracy has been and still is a reality on the high seas. Famous buccaneers such as Blackbeard, Sir Henry Morgan, and Jack Sparrow, have now been replaced by modern stealthy automatic weapon-toting outlaws that prey upon the massive numbers of marine vessels laden with oil, cargo, and passengers destined for ports around the world. There is, of course, big money involved if you can rob and, most often, hold ransom a commercial boat that will possibly bring the brigands millions of dollars. For in certain parts of the world, there is little security and armed enforcement of the law on the high sea, coupled with poverty and lawlessness in certain countries, there you have the makings for a pirate-culture, outlaws driven to risk their lives to make their fortunes.

Nowadays there are some "hot spots" for pirate activity, just like there were during the "Golden Age" of piracy 300 years ago in Northern Europe, the Red Sea, and the bulk of famous stories coming from the West Indies of the Caribbean. Today, the majority of pirate attacks take place in the South China Sea, Venezuela, the Malacca Strait, and by far the majority, the western Indian Ocean and the Gulf of Aden leading to the Red Sea. Most of you have probably at least read one recent news article about the Somalia pirates hijacking a commercial ship or 2 or 3 recently...it's big sensational news and, as we all know, especially in the U.S., anything that can be mentioned with the word "pirate" sells.

What do you do about pirates? This is the question we are most often asked. As much as we try not to think about the possibility and make light of the situation, we are also trying to be knowledgeable about the reality and will do the best that we can not to be a target. We are now beginning to sail into an area of the world where there are pirate attacks and hence this blog to inform our people about the facts as well as our personal situation. I realize this is pretty factual, but it felt like it was easier for me to write out this way to make sure I didn't miss anything.

Pirate Facts in the Indian Ocean/Gulf of Aden:

1. Somalia pirates are a problem and are to be taken seriously.

2. Somalia pirates most often target commercial vessels (over 99% of the time), but, yes, have at times hijacked small sailing yachts.

3. Somalia pirates most often attack ships in the "pirate alley", a stretch of water between northern Somalia and the coast of Yemen, where boats who transit the Red Sea must travel through. However, as the Somalia pirates become more successful and more bold they are venturing further out and some attacks do occur as far south as the Seychelle Islands, Madagascar, and the northern Indian Ocean south of the coast of Oman.

4. Somalia pirates usually hijack vessels and crew, and then pilot the ship to one of the Somalia ports where the pirates live and work. Then they hold the ship and crew for ransom. Many commercial vessel companies pay millions of dollars to the pirates resulting in the ship and crew's safe release.

5. Sometimes the international navy force intervenes on the ocean resulting in modern-day shoot-outs with mixed results. Just recently we heard on the BBC that a Danish navy vessel freed a hijacked commercial ship with over 20 crew on board. Yeah! However, sometimes the pirates get away and sometimes, although very rarely, the commercial crew and captains are killed.

6. Many of the Somalia pirates travel first on traditional Dhow fishing boats, their fast "pirate" zodiac boats hidden on deck under tarps or nets and then only launched when the target is in sight. They have fast engines, maybe traveling at 20-25 knots, and all carry automatic weapons like AK-47's. Most of them are professionals and some of them have made big money in this profession. They know what they are doing.

7. In 2009 a transit corridor for merchant ships was set up approximately 70 miles offshore of Yemen through the Gulf of Aden. This is patrolled by a multi-international group of battleships. Protected ship convoys move together based upon boat speed from 12-20 knots. Some cruisers (especially those not in a yacht convoy) choose to travel alongside the corridor even though their speed is much slower. Some of the time they are alongside a convoy and other times the convoys pass them by and they are alone until the next convoy catches and passes them again. The convoys have in the past never gone at a slow enough speed (5-6 knots) to protect a group of small sailing yachts like us. This corridor is meant for the thousands of commercial cargo/oil ships heading to and from the Red Sea.

8. And lastly, there are hundreds of small sailing yachts that transit these waters to and from the Red Sea safely, each year, with no problems at all. Listening to the radio net every morning, we already know of at least 30 boats ahead of us from the Maldives to Salalah, Oman, who have had an enjoyable and safe passage in the last few weeks. We also know of a few who have already formed small convoys and made it safely through pirate alley to Aden, Yemen.

So with all that being said, here's what we'll do:

1. Starting with our passage from the Maldives to Salalah, Oman, (in a few more days), we will be checking into a radio "net" with around 30-50 sailing yachts taking part at any one time. Every morning we take each other's position (in code so as not to give GPS coordinates over the radio), be available as a community in case there are problems (outside of a pirate attack), and to give/receive any pertinent information to each other. This radio-net doesn't offer us safety from a pirate attack, but does keep us all informed of each other's location and so we all know if there was/is an issue.

2. We will do everything we can to be stealth. We will travel at night with no running lights or mast-head lights on. We will turn off our "sending" AIS signal (If you don't know what this is, you can read the 'Boat Electronics' page on our website). We will keep the VHF on, but not use it unless an emergency. Also, we have pertinent phone numbers in case of a problem loaded into our satellite phone.

3. We will not be posting our usual "position reports" on the Pangolin Yotreps site that you can link thru our 'Where 'O Where' page of our website. This is a precaution just in case the pirates are checking that information for yachts locations. None of the other boats we know of are doing the same, not posting until safe in the harbor of Oman or Yemen. We will send out daily position reports via email only to our families (just so they can sleep at night).

4. Team DK does not carry weapons. In our perspective, do you really think a small sailing yacht can fight off a boat of 4-10 people that goes 5 times our speed and are all carrying automatic weapons? Plus, we have a fiberglass boat, not steel, meaning it wouldn't take much to shoot up the hull of our boat and put us underwater. We believe pulling out a weapon on a group of pirates will probably just escalate the potential for violence.

5. But, the most important thing we will do when we arrive safely in Salalah, Oman, is to be part of a "convoy" of other boats. There have already been small convoys of 3-4 boats that have safely made the passage. Currently there are a couple of large "super-convoys" already being formed with 20 or more boats involved. We are planning on being part of one of these super-convoys in the beginning of March organized by a boat who has led the "Vasco de Gama" rally from the Med to the Red Sea for many years, knows the countries and officials well, and knows how to organize a large group of boats to safely travel together.

6. The convoy will likely be from Salalah, Oman, to Aden, Yemen, through "pirate alley", a distance of around 550 nautical miles. We will be split up into groups of 4-5 boats all staying close together (this will, I'm sure, lend itself to some good stories based on the challenges and frustrations of this reality), traveling along the Yemen coast 10-15 miles offshore. Despite the fact that most of us feel better in convoys, the simple fact is that if one yacht is attacked other yachts nearby cannot really do anything to help. Therefore the hope is that there is safety in numbers and a group of yachts close together will not appeal to the pirates - especially since this has been not been within their normal method of operation. So far, almost every small sailing yacht that has been attacked has been on their own and not part of a group ("convoy") of other yachts. We will hope that the statistics stay true and that we do not have any problems.

7. Lastly, there is recent talk of an Italian battleship escort for small yachts this year. This is in the works and may possibly be a reality. If it happens then we will most likely be part of whatever "convoy" of boats is choosing to be led by this battleship, most likely in the same time frame at the beginning of March heading through pirate alley.

Well, there you have it, hopefully most of your questions are answered regarding pirates and how we will deal with that possibility. For those of you wanting more information regarding pirates around the world, sailing yachts and convoys, recent pirate attacks, and current news regarding the Somalia situation, a very informative website is: www.noonsite.com, with many links you can follow from there.

For those of you that know us, you know we strongly believe in being optimistic and putting out good energy. We know there is a slim chance we could have problems, but we feel there is always a much stronger chance to have problems when you turn that key in your car's ignition and drive to work each morning, then what we have to deal with out here. Regardless, please keep sending us positive vibes and keep us in your thoughts and we will hopefully have only good experiences getting to the Red Sea!

What A Difference A Day Makes

What a difference a day makes. Literally. The ocean has moods that change like the wind. Sometimes she is calm and coy, cajoling, beautiful, and serene. Yet she can change over night aggressive, boisterous and raw, bucking, ugly and fierce. We often mirror her moods with our own.

Departing the Andamans under grey skies and 20-25 knot winds we hunkered down in the cockpit, clinging to the coming and bracing our feet against the boat at odd angles while we tried to maintain some sense of balance and hold onto our breakfast in rolling and confused seas. Squalls hit us regularly for the first 22 hours, blowing wind into our sails and just as quickly sucking it away. Wet and uncomfortable we peered through the grayness searching for the ships that passed us heading for Colombo, Cochin, and other parts of India. We stared at each other blankly and again out to sea. Asking ourselves silently why we have chosen this life and grateful for the simple things, the samosas we snacked on with tea in the afternoon and the tandoori chicken we ate for dinner.

The first day is always difficult for both of us. We turn inward, fully aware of our insignificance. We ask our bodies to move as one with the boat as she pitches uncomfortably though the slop. We alter our mindset, knowing everything is unpredictable and we will be called upon to respond. We rally our bodies to sleep and wake at odd times and for too little. We resolve to work together with each other and with the boat, reacting to the conditions the sea sets before us. There is nowhere to go and nothing else to do but move forward.

Gar carried a grey cloud with him for three days. Not even the settling of the seas or gentle light airs nor visits from dolphins at the bow could dissipate it. Being stuck between 4 fishing boats at night doing circles around us did nothing but annoy him. Our conditions contributed to his mood with the sails slamming and snapping and the gooseneck cracking. The wind was fickle and we jibed and kept changing course, trying to keep the wind directly off our ass. Our frustration built; I sat gently on eggshells waiting for us both to break.

It is usually me who is affected, nervous and withdrawn. I forget that not only is the passage a strain for both of us but Gar is going through withdrawal. He stops drinking coffee cold the day of departure. Sipping tea seeped with two bags of Earl Grey is no substitute for his vice. But he knows seasickness is more likely to strike if he keeps to his traditional morning ritual. Sometimes I forget. Next time I will remember. It will make it easier for both of us.

Day 4 dawns, the horizon is licked pink, the crisp pale blue sky is wrapped in thin white glowing gossamer clouds. Three hundred and forty miles under our keel and we are both finding our rhythm. Our bodies react instinctively to the slight roll of the boat, our muscles always working even while we sleep. We are moving slowly with the full main up, aided by a slight current carrying us with it. It is peaceful and we feel rested and balanced.

Day 6 and the highlights are quiche and fresh sourdough English muffins for brunch and visits from dolphins as the wind clocks around and we alter course. Our instruments are acting up, the heading is lost and the autopilot resets itself. We are both so frustrated, a nervous feeling settles in the pit of my stomach. Gar is seething and at a loss of what to do. We have been plagued by autopilot problems since leaving California and now we've got a new system and the problems still linger like an annoying habit.

We are more than half way there. The nights have been clear. Only the brightest stars wink at us. The moon is growing bigger and the sea is kind. We leave a milky way of glitter in our wake as we slowly make our way west.

Day 7 and we find our selves navigating our course through big tankers and cargo ships. Our course heading seems to be found and our autopilot is working overtime. We love our new AIS system. We can identify ships, their exact course, speed, and where they will intercept our course. Also, we transmit so they can see us. It seems to be working as they alter course before we think to, miles away. Tanker Green Park, an average size ship at 497 feet with a 79 foot beam and a 31 foot keel crossed astern 1.2 miles moving at 22 knots. Normally this would freak me out but I can see it clearly. We headed for the traffic separation scheme where we transited a safe zone avoiding the big ships bypassing Sri Lanka and the ones headed there. It also kept us free of fishing boats and nets.

We found wind, a 2 knot favorable current, and calmer seas thanks to the island of Sri Lanka blocking the swell. Riding fast at a maximum speed of 9.7 knots and average of 8.4 all evening we greeted first light 5 miles off Galle, Sri Lanka, under smoggy skies and a breeze stinking of garbage, smoke, and sandalwood. It was the first time we passed land within 5 miles with the option of stopping in a harbor. It felt strange not to tuck in rest and see another incredible part of the world. Instead, we accepted the help of the current to take us onwards, past the port of Galle and to Uligan, Maldives.

Day 8 and we're lucky. We made it through another 60 miles of dense shipping lanes in daylight. The wind is licking our sails and we're happily moving at 6.3 knots with 15 knots of wind. It's twilight and we battle predictably about double reefing the main before darkness as our weather forecast is for 20 knots crossing the Gulf of Mannar.

Usually I get a niggling thought that just won't leave. Tonight is no different. Our conversation usually goes something like this. "What do you think about putting a second reef in the main (note we are sailing beautifully right now)?" "We're sailing great," Gar annoyed but willing to acquiesce. "I know but the gribs said it was going to pick up and everyone always has 20-30." This goes on and on. I am stubbornly unwilling to compromise our sail plan right now because it is working and I know Gar doesn't want to change it. He knows I won't sleep unless we do but wants me to be the one to make the decision to reef. We go back and forth for about 15 minutes and predictably put the second reef in.

Good decision. Within three hours the wind is up to 25 knots the seas are 10-12 feet. The boat is flying smoothly across the ocean like she was built to do at 7-8 knots. The moon hangs high illuminating the swell in silver, highlighting the frothy white spray on the heads of the breaking waves. Some invade the cockpit. There is only one dry spot on the boat. One of us sits in it at a time for a day and a half, curled cozily on the port side under the dodger our feet curled beneath us.

The ocean is big powerful and commanding of respect. Today we feel part of it, like Neptune's children born of the sea, part of the sea. This is what we love about sailing. It is raw and beautiful and we are sailing across the Indian Ocean just half way around the world from California. Something shifts for us both. The feeling is almost indescribable. We are fully alive, glowing, at one with the boat, with the ocean, and the wind. We revel in our motion and salt that clings to our skin and the wind that sings through the rigging. We celebrate that feeling of being alive fully aware of our own power and what we are doing.

By afternoon on Day 10 the wind has mellowed to a comfortable 12-15 knots, the moon is fat, the sea is sparkling and we are still riding fast. It is almost like a dream and the memory of the Gulf of Mannar begins to fade, as we are lulled into a dreamy state of calm. The sky is so bright we can see for miles. The boat is quiet as she slices across the sea smelling landfall; we push on.

Under a bright full moon and clear sky we soak up the last hours of our passage before we navigate through the islands and turn towards the mast lights glowing like welcome beacons in Uligan's harbor. By three thirty in the morning we have dropped anchor in 75 feet of water sure we have avoided the coral heads we cannot see. All of a sudden we stop. The boat rolls gently from side to side with the slight swell. We sit on deck basking in the moonlight before showering and toppling into bed together excited for what tomorrow will bring.