Member reminisces on conquering the open water
In 1997, I retired from my sales job. I had long dreamed of going blue-water sailing. For 20 years, I’d sailed Lake Mead in Nevada. The lake could be challenging, sure, but it wasn’t the ocean. I knew a new boat was on the horizon, but I wasn’t ready to make that leap until I proved to myself that I could handle open water.
So, in 1998, I enrolled in classes and two educational charters through Orange Coast College in Newport Beach, California. The coursework covered offshore safety, emergency procedures and weather. The first charter was a one-week sail from Newport to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico, aboard Volcano, a 65-foot sloop. The second was a two-week passage aboard Alaska Eagle from Wellington, New Zealand, to Papeete, Tahiti. My plan: If the first trip didn’t go well, I’d cancel the second.
Fortunately, I completed both classes and the first cruise—which came with rough weather—and without getting seasick. That trip taught me more than I expected: getting along with crewmates, navigation, sail handling, marlinespike, seamanship, standing watch, helmsmanship and life out of sight of land. I was occasionally apprehensive, but I loved the experience and soaked up every lesson. Between trips, I also completed the United States Power Squadrons Junior Navigation course.
Lessons in action
By the time the second voyage rolled around, I’d mastered the art of living out of a duffel bag and invested in offshore foul-weather gear that actually breathed. I took time to explore New Zealand—both North and South islands—and found the people warm and generous. Our crew of seven, plus a captain, first mate and cook, departed from Picton in September. I’ll admit I was uneasy sailing out into the deep Pacific so soon after reading about the deadly 1994 Queen’s Birthday Storm. (In hindsight, maybe I should’ve skipped the book and videos.)
Our first leg was about 1,440 nautical miles, due east along a great circle route slicing through the Roaring Forties winds. Thankfully, the weather cooperated. The second leg took us 1,532 nautical miles on a heading of 12 degrees true.
That first morning at sea, the horizon offered nothing but water. We didn’t see a single vessel or even an aircraft until we were 200 nautical miles south of Papeete. On day two, we crossed the international date line in costume and full party mode.
The passage took 14 days.
I averaged only three-and-a-half hours of sleep per day, bunked in a pipe berth in the bow with vegetables stashed beneath—not ideal. With 12- to 15-foot seas on a beam-to-close reach, I could tell who was on the helm by how we pitched and rolled.
We had a water maker powered by a finicky generator hidden in a cramped stern compartment that reeked of diesel. A small air leak in the fuel system meant daily injector bleeds. Since I wasn’t seasick—unlike most of the crew—I became the de facto “diesel whisperer.”
When conditions calmed, we swam in open ocean, and my favorite break involved being swung from a bosun’s chair overboard via halyard, a surprise dunk always possible.
Duties rotated daily: cleaning heads, bilges and galley duty. Our watch system was four hours on and eight off, with four crew per watch and one designated as watch captain. Each of us spent 20 minutes an hour at the helm, which lacked modern navigation gear—just a compass and basic sailing instruments above the companionway. We were always tethered, even in the cockpit.
Sail changes were frequent, and at the helm, with nothing to brace against, the wheel bore the brunt—so much so that only three of its original eight spokes remained intact by the time we reached Papeete.
Boating with confidence
The Orange Coast College program gave me not only practical offshore skills but also confidence—the kind you need to own and skipper your own boat. My wife, Teresa, received training through the Doris Colgate Sailing School and joined an all-women cruise in Fiji on a 46-foot Hallberg-Rassy sloop. On the water, we earned the respect of fellow cruisers for being safe, well prepared and capable.
THIS ARTICLE WAS ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED IN THE AMERICA’S BOATING CLUB GOLDEN ISLES/22 NEWSLETTER, THE PORT HOLE.
