Mackay to Darwin ....

The Captain studied the paper in front of him and worked the numbers out in a low voice but loud enough to hear.  "It's 1520 miles to Darwin. If we average 5 knts a day; we will make it to Darwin in 12 days, 6 knts would be 10 days, and 6 knts would bring us to freedom from round-the-clock six hour watches split between the two of us.  For all of our time busting hump in Mckay for three weeks, we were well behind schedule and for all of our hard labor we would be repaid with the need to skip the Great Barrier reef (overrated by people I've talked to in comparison to the diving we have done in Polynesia) and not get to do the day-tripping of the Whitsundays, a group of desolate, rugged islands teeming with bird life and rock out-croppings along their shores hiding those tasty red-throated emperor fish.  I was bummed, but understood the logic.  If we could eat up some miles, we could still salvage some time in Darwin and get to Kakadu National Park and do some of what we really want to do: outbacking, croc-viewing, snake-hunting, and getting to know more of these great Aussies.

Mom, being in a right, sane frame of mind, got off the boat in Cairns to experience the beauty of Australia landside; which gave us a night's rest before the round-the-clock sailing would begin.  It's not that I mind the six on and six off routine with two on the boat.  There is great beauty in being the lone Master and Commander (at least to think you are) of a beautiful vessel while gazing at Orion and the Southern Cross while the Skip is catching a few Z's but it has its moments that time-after-time again; one gets weary off.  I had just finished my last blog (quite optimistic with all the work done on the boat), when a resounding "Oh S---!" came from the Skip as the generator petered out.  Didn't we just spend three weeks in Mckay getting this boat ready and completely inspected to finish the second half? Without the generator, our newly installed 240 volt water-maker just sits.  Before the generator went kablooey, we were making 220 liters of sweet water an hour.  To those who have never been on water-restrictions, this may not make an impression; to those who have, remember relishing a nice hot shower or not being so stringent while washing dishes?  The harder truth is that without the generator operating, batteries are not being charged unless the engine is running and we like to minimize that time to conserve fuel.

This is the crucible, though.  This is what makes this an unequaled experience from other travels.  It can't all be lazing it on a Bora Bora beach with an umbrella drink in hand.  Fun, as it sounds, fun never equates to the pride of having tested one's determination in seeing it through.   This is the reality of circumnavigating.  It's tough.  People constantly tell me of how envious they are of me and what a great chance to have a break from work to do this.  I smile and tell them not to envy me too much and this is far from a break from work.  That being said, as weeks go by and still more people drop out of the ARC; we keep on keeping on whatever may come our way.  What I've found interesting in the World ARC fleet, is that the vast majority will tell you knowing how to sail is far from being the most valued skill.  That's easy (unless you're into racing-I'm not). Far above that, in fact the most crucial, is the skill of being able to jury-rig broken equipment while utilizing limited items onboard.  That's a real sailor.  I watched my Skip use medical gauze and 5200 (great adhesive-everyone should have it on a sailboat) to patch a leak at sea in a broken hose between two attached engine parts.  Absolutely brilliant as he applied layer of gauze while smearing the compound on the engine's artery stopping the massive hemorrhage and getting us from Bora Bora all the way to Australia where a mechanic replaced the broken hose.  That's the Skip in his Patton-like determination to push forward quickly toward any obstacles and crush these boat issues one-by-one as they raise their cobra-like heads from the engine room and beyond.  Leave it to a doctor to use his medical supplies in the engine room.  I watch and assist to the best of my ability while carrying on the other tasks crucial to keeping a boat happy.  As I have made friends with the various captains, boat-owners, and crew in the ARC; we have come to one universal and laughable conclusion:  You have to be insane to own a boat.  

As far as traversing the waters interior to the Great Barrier Reef and east of mainland Australia as we make or way northward and west, it is a head's up ball game.  Super-tankers, warships, cargo ships, shrimpers, and anything else that could go bump in the night crowd the channels.  It's a mine-field and no ten-minute shut-eye breaks are allowed.  Thank God for the marvelous creation of the coffee bean.  The rules of the road here are quite simple: the bigger vessel always wins and boats like to pass starboard to starboard here.  They even drive on the wrong side of the channel.  It is quite a lovely trip and its nice to not be out of the sight of land. As I longingly gaze out toward rugged cliffs, boulders, and mountains painting the landscape all shades of earthy yellows and oranges; I dream (and the Skip as well) of getting to Darwin and more interior.  We'll get there.

The fishing report is relatively good.  We caught a 15 lb yellow fin tuna (which I served cubed and raw in coconut milk, lime juice, minced scallions, and ginger) 2 spotted mackerel (a new species for us-meat as white as the driven snow and flaky-excellent pan-friend in butter, salt, and pepper), a tuna mackerel (not edible in my book) and then were cut off on two lines simultaneously while dragging a bloody tuna mackerel behind boat.  Shark?  I wonder if it had eyes like a doll's.  Dark and lifeless.  Time to get out the piano-wire and catch one of those porkers with the serrated, triangular teeth.

We are about half-way from Cairns to Darwin, now, and making 6.5 knts.  We are tired but still making waves.  I imagine in 5-6 days, we will be in Darwin. As always, love and miss you all.  Te amo, Merce.

"Brown-Eyed Girl" out...