Mon Apr 25 2022 17:47:00 GMT-0700 (Pacific Daylight Time)
Hey Dad,
We finally did it! We left Mexico for French Polynesia. The next land we see will be Nuku Hiva, Marquesas. Leaving Cabo was exhilarating. We left in the evening, raising anchor at 8:20pm local time. First mistake out of the gate was raising our full main sail. In our excitement we didn’t really pay attention to the compression winds that would be whipping around the south cape of Baja California. We saw 35-40 knots for several hours. Thankfully we got the main reefed quickly and blazed south west at 8+ knots.
On my first watch of the night, first watch of passage, I sat behind the wheel composing a letter to mom in my head. The suddenness of realizing this was another first I experience with you gone was breathtaking. I miss you.
The magic and excitement of finally leaving on this voyage we have been planning and preparing for eventually gave way to the realities and rigors of upwind sailing in strong winds and seas. Pulsar handled it like a dream; she flies upwind so well. Mistake number two showed up at around 1 am when the furling line snapped and released our reefed genoa. I had tensioned the line too much when reefing the sail, and it broke. Thankfully the winds had lessened just enough that while not ideal, the full genoa was safe, and the boat controlled. We determined it was safer to sail spilling wind than to try and run a new furling line at night. This is where Graham comes in to mention of this is why we keep so many of our old lines.
The next day we sped along as the crew formed routines of watches, eating, and sleeping. The first few days at sea are usually the hardest. Our bodies eventually adapt and we reach a new equilibrium. But they are also some of the most awesome.
We are on our way to a new moon, so nights have been dark, but full of stars, meteors, planets, and constellations. Scorpio looms big and bright in the night sky. I remember the first time Graham and I realized we were seeing new to us stars for the first time in Rarotonga, Cook Islands. It is fantastically different. I am excited to watch the changes in the night sky as we gradually reach the equator and then cross into the southern hemisphere.
For us, we have set out on our longest passage. It feels huge and surreal. And yet, at the same time just another small step in this journey we have been steadily marching on for years. Though not without hiccups, doubts, and determination.
This evening, same as last, the winds have died down to 7-10 knots. We move along under sail at 2-4 knots depending on wind and wave, gusts and currents. It is slow going, but reasonably comfortable. Crew has eaten dinner and are settling in for the night. Graham is making water while on watch. Tomorrow we are going to have a movie night maybe catch a fish. We have seen a few land and sea birds, a few flying fish and one tiny squid died tragic deaths on our deck. That squid was no where near the amazing creature you caught.
I have watch in a few hours so I had better get some rest. Part of the reason I am capable of being here, is because of you and mom. I love you.
Always,
Karri
S/V Pulsar 