Location: 9° 58.0 S, 56° 12.2 E
Saturday 12:00, 01.20.2007

The Schooner Maggie B was at 9° 58.0 S 56° 12.2 E at noon on January 20th. We are still motor sailing, headed due south for Port Louis, Mauritius, with the wind just about on our nose at five knots. It is a lovely day, with fluffy clouds and an almost flat ocean, with only a long SE’erly swell making up. We see dolphin from time to time, but they are always too busy to play with us. “Things to do, places to go.”

We have 615 miles to Port Louis, three and a half days at this speed.

Today was a big “ship work” day. Hannah sewed and fitted a storm cover for our deck box; Owen fixed the “See Me” active radar reflector (they have a cool web site), and sewed a Mauritius flag out of some scrap colored sailcloth we got in Lunenburg; Bori fixed and glued up two places wood has split in our skylight and the frame for the cover of the Reepicheep; Frank overhauled, brought out, put away and organized all our paper charts, and troubleshot a Yanmar oil pressure concern. Never a dull moment!

In yesterday’s post I mistakenly called Mauritius a overseas department of France. That is its neighbor, Reunion. Mauritius is, in fact, an independent country, attaining independence from Britain in 1968. It was Portuguese first (they ate all the dodos), then Dutch, then French, then English. There are 1.2 million inhabitants, mostly descendants of imported Indian laborers. A small minority of French descent form the wealthiest group. Joseph Conrad called Mauritius “the sugary pearl of the Indian Ocean.” For us it is a pit stop on our way to Australia.

The way hurricanes in the North Atlantic tend to recurve northeast and then north as they approach the US coast, typhoons in the Southern Indian Ocean tend to curve southeast and then south as they approach Madagascar. The islands of Reunion and Madagascar historically have acted like Giant Slalom ski gates for the turn to south and finally southwest. Are we concerned at being here now? You bet! But the storms form way to the north and east of us, and we are watching that area as closely as a Florida home generator salesman watches little lows off the coast of Africa in September. We get three different forecasts five days out. If something formed, we would have five days warning of the birth, and the storm would still be at least a week away, once developed. So we should have at least 12 days warning of any developments. In 12 days we can go 2000 miles, which is plenty of distance, even though we would be in the SW (danger) quadrant. Nevertheless, we are going to gas up as soon as we arrive and stay ready to leave (even without the blessing of Customs and Immigration) on the first notice of developing lows.

Idiot light?

Most sailboat engines just have an “idiot light” to indicate low oil pressure. The Maggie B has the most sophisticated panel that Yanmar sells for this engine, which includes an electronic oil pressure gauge as well as an idiot light. Right now the oil pressure gauge is reading very, very low, though the idiot light has not illuminated. Tough to troubleshoot. An urgent inquiry to the Halifax Yanmar dealer came back with the “advice” that the electronic gauges weren’t very accurate and should only be considered “advisory.” What does that mean in the middle of the ocean? I went all over the engine with a laser thermometer and found only normal temperatures, so we are declaring it a gauge error. If we can, we will get an old fashioned “steam” gauge installed in Port Louis in the oil system so that with just a bit of effort, we can check the accuracy of the electronic gauge.

Food continues to be top quality.

Lunch today was Hannah’s hard boiled egg and potato salad, with a fresh Seychelles avocado salad with Frank’s mustard vinaigrette dressing. Sides included Prochutto di Parma, Jarlesburg cheese and Hannah’s fresh baked biscuits. Served with a cold bottle of South African Sauvignon blanc. Dessert was apple and orange slices with Kit Kat chasers. Yum!

All is well.

On Watch, 3-6

So here we are outfitted and underway once more

Yippee ! Back in the routine of sea life.

I love to go to new countries and meet the locals and fellow sailors, but I find after a couple weeks, no matter how much I love the place, I start to feel like a fish out of water !

My watch is beautiful this morning.

There’s a nice, light, cool breeze coming from Madagascar and a gentle swell — perfect for rocking us to sleep. The sky looks like a black velvet sheet, spatter-dashed with millions of stars, minus the 8 that have gone shooting by overhead.

My watch is now over , and so I’ll leave it to Owen along with the rising sun…

Til next time,

Hannah