Pacific Odyssey - Leg 6

We are just 58 nautical miles from Honolulu.  Our final day of this epic
passage has been a good one.  The sun shone and was warm all day; there are
a few sunburns and the aloe vera is being passed around.  Jose is playing
guitar and Antony is playing the kazoo for an impromptu Mug-Up on deck
around the helmsman.  Trainees and crew have their headlamps and harnesses
on and are singing, laughing . . . enjoying one more night of being together
out at sea; it sounds like a lot of fun.  We had a one-sitting supper on
deck so that we could have a Sunday service tonight before we come into port
tomorrow.  Skipper read from the end of C.S. Lewis´ "The Silver Chair" where
Prince Rillian is finally freed from his enchantment.  We discussed
recognizing deception in our world; it was a good example.  Everyone seems
to enjoy being read to, especially under a star-filled sky, with a soft
breeze blowing, and the ship drifting noiselessly on a wide ocean (we turned
off the engine).  Because the sun was out today Skipper and Jordan were able
to teach 10 or so trainees how to take sights, plot and find a position via
the sextant.  This afternoon we had a swim stop . . . it was incredible . .
. we were all child-like in our enthusiasm.  The water was warmer and bluer
. . . delicious.  People jumped from the bowsprit, swam, hung from the
bobstays, washed and shampooed, dove off the rails etc.  We had to lower the
sails in order to slow down the ship and raise them again afterwards, but it
was well worth the effort.  Our moods were already high but a swim stop only
improves any situation.  We are now clean for our entry into the harbor.
Spirits are definitely up and expectant; at the same time we are hesitant
and unsure.  A landfall after a long passage is often bittersweet.  Adam and
I were chatting and realized that we both feel we could easily continue for
another 2 or 3 days, now that we know land is attainable.  It´s as if we
needed to be this close to acknowledge to ourselves that we can last this
length of time, that ´getting there´ isn´t important anymore.  Some of us
sighted Kauai this morning.  Today Sarah finished reading "The Robe" to her
watch; it´s an excellent book.  Fore watch spent some time sharing with each
other what they´ve learned and what they appreciate about each other.  Even
though we know that tomorrow our lives will change, we subconsciously feel
our lives on the ship will go on somehow; it has been our pattern and
routine for over a month, it´s hard to imagine anything different, it´s how
we all got to know each other.   We are looking forward to Honolulu and all
that that entails; we just hope that what we´ve had the past 35 days stays
with us.  Yesterday I said that Leighsa´s mom and dad will be joining us in
Hawaii.  I made a mistake and only her mom is coming; her dad will be in
Victoria when we arrive there.  Jordan has written up a typical day as a
bosun.  He started a wonderful narrative, full of interesting details, and
was enjoying the process of writing.  He needs more time to complete it and
so we´ve decided to give a brief outline of his day today.  Enjoy.
And here begins a point form of the day in the life of a bosun.
  1.. The day really should begin with the end of the previous day for it
was a night that seemed to carry through sleep and into the next day; a
series of events that never seemed to stop, save for a moment of fitful
sleep.  We check the batteries at night (we check them twice a day because
they are, as we say in the trade ´on the fritz´) and find that they are
unusually hot.  Trainees are notified that all lights will be going out for
a few moments and told to grab a headlamp.  A change in mood on the boat
happens and questions fly through the air.  People know that something
serious, but not too serious is up; it feels almost exciting.  Tristan and I
disconnect 1/3 of our main bank to exclude the hot batteries.
  2.. Next morning I awake early to the sound of air and no water running
through the galley sinks.  Hmmm, that´s not good.  I tear bunks and bilge
apart because of a suspicion we may have a leak.  I spend the morning in and
out of bunks and with my head in the bilge, checking everything that could
be the problem until my mind rests clear.
  3.. Tristan takes the rig walk; he is awesome and a constant support.  The
rig walk involves walking up the masts and checking all the working pieces,
making sure everything is holding up.  Up in the rig is where we spend a lot
of our time; it allows us to see the boat differently.  Sometimes it is
peaceful and we can slowly and meticulously go over the rig, other days its
terribly rocky and we are being tossed around.
  4.. I tackle the bright work and refinish a sky light.
  5.. Tristan and I break for lunch.  I´ve joined fore watch and Tristan has
joined starboard watch.  It gives us the chance to get to know a small group
of trainees well.
  6.. I ´hit the ground running´ at 1300 hrs and take advantage of a rare
moment to do bright work.  The sun is shining and water is not splashing
over the rails.  Fore watch is a power house and gets a lot done; we have
fun and they are fun to work with.  Everyone puts a lot of energy and care
into their work.
  7.. I teach a seniors lesson on tide interpolation.  Teaching is a welcome
break in the day of a bosun.
  8.. I work on the fire caps to the vents and ensure that they will fit.
Tristan is making a new cap out of a French franc (coin) for the trysail
block.
  9.. At 1700 hrs I run all the systems, the water and the freezer.
  10.. I eat with fore watch.  Gillian has been invited to our watch.  She
reads something out of "Eye of the Albatross" and a one-hour discussion
ensues.
  11.. I continue with a game of chess for the tournament; phew, I´m still
in.
  12.. I have a moment by myself in my bunk before I go to bed.  Susan, a
veteran trainee, suddenly approaches, somewhat apprehensively, knowing that
I´m in bed.  I can tell she needs help with something; she´s been on long
enough to know when something is a problem.  She says that the head is
spewing forth brown water and her smell seems to confirm her words.  "Okay,
I´m coming."  I take a deep breath as I get out of my bunk and get my tools.
Good-night, Jordan
This is it until tomorrow.  Good-night, Bonice.