Location 18° 29S, 146° 02W
Monday, 10.08.2007

At noon on October 8th, the Schooner Maggie B was at 18° 29S, 146° 02W. We were making about 165 degrees magnetic, or about due South True, doing 6 knots. The wind has stayed at about 100 degrees magnetic at 18-25 knots. We are somewhat off close hauled because the seas have made up a bit and if we are hard on the wind we beat our brains out and make little headway.

We have come 265 NM from Rangiroa and Easter Island is 2075 NM away.

We are headed South instead of East (which would be more direct geographically to Easter Island) for three reasons: 1) the wind is from South of East, and would be directly on our nose if we pointed towards Easter Island, 2) there is a whole mess of Tuamotus between us and Easter Island and 3) we’re after a favorable breeze. In about 2-3 days, a nice, fat 300 mile wide band of a fresh Southerly breeze should work its way East past 145 West Longitude. But we’ll have to be South of about 25 degrees to catch it. The timing should be right.
It will take us about two days to get another six degrees (360 NM) South. Then we’ll put our thumb out, tack over to Starboard tack, and hopefully ride that Southerly most all the way (2000 NM or 10 days) to Easter Island, which is about 27 degrees South and 109 West. That’s the plan, anyway.

Days of departure are always hectic. Last Saturday seemed a bit worse. Routine engine checks gave the Onan generator a bad case of the “air locks” and we had to rig a temporary header fuel tank to solve it. Final rig checks found a badly frayed main throat halyard, which was replaced. The joy of having a simple rig (both engine and aloft), ample supplies, and a fit, skilled crew, was that these two major problems were solved in little over an hour.

We are just passing the last (?) of the Tuamotus on our course. It has the engaging name of Hereheretua. Here means “beautiful.” Herehere means really beautiful. Not sure about “tua,” but would suspect it means “spot or place.” Must be an early form of marketing to call a tiny out-of-the-way place “really beautiful,” like the Vikings calling that rough, icy island “Greenland.”

We have fitted our Fremantle-made gaiters around the skylights to help keep the saltwater on deck. Reepicheep has additional lashings to keep it from roaming. And Robert has discovered a little leak through the deck by the foot of his pilot berth, which we won’t be able to track down and fix until we get on the other tack. Fortunately it can drip straight into the bilge, if the latest “New Yorker” isn’t stuffed in its way.

All hands are back mostly functional and the Blue Water routine is beginning to settle in.

All is well.