Harmon and Randall's Voyage…

Azores Madeira Leg

Day 2

Saturday, June 28

Noon Position: 37 24.0N 25 28.9W

Course/Speed: SE 6.5

Wind: SE 3

Sail: Motoring

Noon Miles: 153

Total Miles: 164

In the afternoon light winds on starboard quarter pushed us along at a brisk clip. Later these moved to light winds on the beam and our clip remained brisk. But in the evening winds began to drop slowly from 15 to 12 to 10 knots. Sometimes the velocity would rebound, giving one hope, before resuming its gradual decline. At midnight, 8 knots, on which Moli rolled along at a gentle 4-5 knots–the latter being acceptable, the former, not. Soon the anemometer was flashing wind at 7 knots, and then we fired up the engine.

It is evening of the next day as I write and we are still motoring, now in winds of three knots dead ahead. We have entered the high pressure ridge that pushes all good wind to either side and will be motoring until we get out of it–midnight tomorrow.

In the below (a screenshot of this leg in the weather routing software LuckGrib), you can see a graphical representation of our situation. Our departure, Horta is at the top left and our destination, Fanchal, is at the bottom right. Our position is near that of the little blue boat at the center, which looks to be crossing a wide river of blue.

Actually, this blue area is our area of calms and is more like a hill–an obstacle lower pressure winds have to get around–than a river. Windier areas are flowing around it in the green and yellow sections. Here wind speeds are indicated by “wind feathers”, which flow in the direction the winds is traveling and whose barbs indicate velocity (short feather = 5 knots; long feather = 10 knots).

Once we get though the blue area, we’ll have fast winds the rest of the way.

We left the last Azoran island, Santa Maria, astern just as the sun went down. Harmon made chili with roasted potatoes and coal-slaw for dinner and is currently catching some sleep prior to his 10pm to 2am watch. Mo rolls in the low swell, slowly and in her shippy way; the engine hums below my feet. From the port window I can see a lone storm petrel hunting just above the water-top in the fading light.

To be fair, the only problem with motoring is that it’s less fun, less sailorly. It is surely no less beautiful.