A Brief Dash of Colour as Turtlebones Veers South

After five days of having the same two sails up – the main and the genoa – we launched the colourful spinnaker late this morning. This coincided with a change in course.

Up until now, we’ve largely been travelling in a westerly direction, pushed along by a fresh wind from the north. In sailing lingo this is called a beam reach – the wind is roughly at a right angle to the boat and her sails. Prefect conditions for our brand-new genoa (thank you Chris) set in tandem with the mainsail. 

Some of you have probably been wondering why in the world are they heading towards Hawaii, instead of going south to French Polynesia. It’s a good question. The answer has to do with a belt of relatively still winds located near the equator known as the inter-tropical convergence zone, or more commonly called the doldrums. The area exists because the trade-winds in the northern hemisphere flow in a clockwise direction, and the opposite way in the southern. When they meet it creates this dead zone.

To the extent we can, the goal is to cross the doldrums without getting becalmed and having to` motor, possibly for days. But that belt of dead air is fickle. Sometimes it’s three hundred miles wide. Then a couple of days later, in the very same place, it almost vanishes, like some kind of mirage.

Usually, but not always, the doldrums are thicker to the east off the coast of Central and South America, and then gradually narrow like a long cone tapering to the west. The common wisdom is to go west initially, then cut sharply south to cross at a thinner section. Essentially, we’ve been playing the odds – sailing west rather than taking a more direct southerly course.  

Today, however, we made the switch and started headed south-south-west. The winds have decreased over the last two days and are expected to be light for the next day and a half. So, we doused the genoa and main, and broke-out our brightly coloured spinnaker. It’s designed for sailing with the wind behind us. Sailors call this running. Although, at the moment, there isn’t much wind to run with.

Luckily, we aren’t in a hurry. Plus, we’re loathed to turn on the engines. So, we ghosted along at a leisurely pace. Sharon baked bread, while Shawn and I spent a few hours in the engine room trying to diagnose the ailing watermaker.

Despite the light winds, as dusk approached, I began to worry about keeping the spinnaker up. We are always more cautious at night because two people are sleeping and only one is up on watch managing the boat. That big powerful spinnaker can be a real beast to manage if the wind comes up. This lesson was on full display during the sail north from Costa Rica, when Shawn’s hands were badly burned by a rope as a spinnaker fell into the water and was destroyed.

So, down came the colourful spinnaker, and up went the trusty drab genoa-main combination. Then my big surprise; running with the main set on one side and the genoa on the other  – wing-on-wing in sailor speak – our speed actually increased. Totally counter-intuitive.

– Bill