I’ve spent many days playing with rig combinations to maintain Constellation on a straight course for my destination, yet nothing is ever perfect. Every boat has its best point of sail, yet I’ve not yet found Constellation’s most favourable downwind configuration. Which is kind of amusing, because I spent about 25 days in the Atlantic going downwind, and I’ve just spent over a week now in the Pacific doing the same thing… The problem here is, I have some daft belief that I can go downwind comfortably and quickly. Unfortunately, those two things don’t go hand in hand, although I do continue to try… I’ve tried ‘wing on wing’ (twin jibs) in varying combinations, mainsail plus wing on wing, and the the standard calm-seas downwind rig of the ‘butterfly’ which is the mainsail sheeted right out, and jib (in my case, poled) on the opposing tack. So what works? Nothing really. But, to be honest, the technicalities of all this are probably tedious if not boring for most - Besides, it all just gives me something to do during the day.

Day to day, nothing much of interest has happened… No more whale sightings (I did see some near the coast of California), no more dolphins, and only one, mocking bird (not in a literal sense): A rather large bird that appears whenever the squalls do, and flies in circles above me, dipping and arching its wing in contour with the waves, as it vanishes beneath the crests… I’m not sure why it visits during squalls, but, it has done so like clockwork.

While on the topic of squalls, I have to say the Pacific has thrown up its fair share. Compared to the Atlantic, where squalls also frequented, the ones in this ocean come more frequently and are more unpredictable. My Atlantic squalls were always generally rather placid. The trades were blowing at 20kts consistently, and the squall would blow through with an additional 10kts of breeze and be done. Out here, I can never tell how hard it will blow, and just yesterday a small looking cloud set, kicked up both foam and spindrift, which I haven’t seen in awhile. Today, squalls have come through in varying force, but most of all, they’ve wrecked the trades and kept me from going many miles done… The Pacific trades have also been light and inconsistent just generally - The NOAA GRIB data reports usually around 15kts in my area - They always over-report, and I would expect it’s more like 12-15kts. This is all due to the Pacific high, and maybe it just hasn’t properly settled yet… Or maybe, this is just how it is.

All in all, I don’t have too many complaints, although I am looking forward to a quiet sleep at anchor or tied up somewhere, and maybe some fresh fruit…

Thanks as always for the nice messages people send me. Hello to the Waddle family, and for those sending me email addresses to reply to, I will do so from land.

Several things have broken onboard, but none that could hold us still. The track for the port sheet has lifted, and water is coming in from the deck. Two of the newly bedded stanchion bases also appear to be leaking, and so I have towels all around the place trying to keep things dry. It’s annoying, but nothing much beyond that. Today, for the third time on this trip, the boom flew off the maintrack. It was a stupid design to begin with, but I guess one must remember the majority of this gear was not meant to be put under such stress loads, 24hrs a day, for weeks at a time… Poor Constellation, she was just meant to daysail around the Solent… Anyway, I permanently center bolted the maintrack, and then distributed the load to the boom through two blocks instead of one. I think now it is fixed for good… Not pretty, but fixed.

Otherwise there is little else to report. Tradewind sailing is… Incessant swell kicking the boat left and right, and the practice of balancing sail, windvane, and whisker poles (thanks Roya!) while maximising speed, and minimising stress on the boat, and on the living environment… There is nothing worse than flying along at 6.5kts and careening sideways down waves in the name of progress, while you try to sip your tea.

Thank you so much to everyone who has been sending me messages - They’ve been very amusing, and keep me going - I really appreciate it.

My track has been updated, and I sincerely hope it reflects my progress… I guestimate another 9 days of sailing, if I can maintain 120nm days…

Thanks Marty for getting this post up!

My sail out of Half Moon Bay was idyllic, with my friends whom I wrote about in my last post, coming all the way back down from San Francisco to visit and escort me out. I spent the week waiting in Half Moon for good weather, and it coincided with their visit. Rob, Ted, and Adam sailed with me for around 10nm offshore, before pairing off and leaving me to my devices. It was a nice foray into the multi-day tack I had setup, and as they petered off behind me, so did the coast of California. Being left alone, I slowly became mildly seasick. This always happens, and it doesn’t help that it’s been nearly a year since my last sail when I landed in New York. For the next 36hrs, I didn’t eat or sleep, as my nerves adjusted and my ear got used to the roll of Constellation: At 26ft, and weighted down, Constellation ‘hobby-horses’ about, and so I then begin to wish I had another 10ft of waterline to lessen the motion. Of course my wish never comes true, and so I remember we’re out here doing it, and we get back to dealing with our respective environments; mine of feeling ill, and Constellation’s of generally being a rock-star Contessa 26.

As I sit in my bunk, writing this, a tiny squall is overhead creating a ruckus in the sails, and a slight chill. The water of the Pacific is that gorgeous blue, akin to the Atlantic before one hits the gulf stream. I’ve spent the day reading, and fault finding an electrical problem with my tri-light, which I’ve finally repaired, in the usual & aesthetically unpleasing, but entirely utilitarian manner which Constellation has become used to.

I feel quite at home here, but I must say the Pacific has an aura of a vast and empty desert, quite unlike the Atlantic. The Atlantic ocean always felt like a ‘working ocean’ to me - A vast watery highway of trade and bustle. Even if I only did come across three tankers on my crossing, it just somehow felt different. I have no logical reasoning for any of this, but what’s a blog post without an expression of unfounded feeling…

So as I drift rather than sail, (which could possibly end up being be my hallmark maneuver) closer to home, I can’t help but feel somewhat melancholy about friendships made, and friendships now abandoned. In ‘A Voyage for Madmen’, Peter Nichols talks about the driving factors behind the men who raced in the first Golden Globe race - A race nonstop and singlehanded around the world; the first of its kind. He classifies the archetypal solo sailor as being driven by ‘imagination, self-discipline, selfishness, endurance, fear, courage, and social instability’. I don’t really call myself a solo sailor, and wouldn’t for a second put myself near the likes of the men that raced, however Nichols’ characterisations do ring true to an extent, and I think the Pacific will be a nice time to reflect on all the things that have put me here, and kept me going. I sometimes feel like I’m driving an old car around the world, and people run up to give me a push, whom I thank, and then roll on. I’m hardly on the ‘home stretch’, as technically we’re only half-way, but for some reason, there not being a continent between myself and Australia, makes this piece of water a better place to contemplate such questions.

And what better place to have such lofty thoughts, than in a 26ft boat with 6×8ft of livable space, and a sunning lounge of similar proportions (the cockpit)!

Nick.

(My position on the tracking page has been updated, and the messaging page is back up for those who feel the urge to send a cheeky message)

As if the slip wasn’t enough, Rob & Adam kept helping with the many projects aboard Constellation - Mounting deck winches donated by my friend Bain at the Berkeley Marina, figuring out whisker poles, visiting the Latitude 38 headquarters, running me to and from West Marine for parts, backwards and forwards to many stores to get final provisions and all manner of other things - Three weeks worth of aimlessly running around doing things on my own, were done in a week… Rob even broke out the sewing machine to make Constellation a nice set of protective weather cloths to guard the cockpit and myself from incoming waves - A modification I’ve wanted to make since day one. LaDonna of Latidue 38 vacuum packed beans and rice for provisions - In my first meeting with this salty pair, they exclaimed “we’ll send you off with 25lbs of beans and rice” … And so they did! Thank you Adam for the PFD, safety line and everything else you parted with… I hope the motivation is even stronger to chase me across the Pacific and retrieve it all!

Without the assistance Marcello and Massimo of Bluemapia.com, no provisions would be onboard, and Hawaii and beyond may not have become an attainable possibility this year… Many thanks to my favourite Italians for not only employing me over the last six months, but for stepping up again and assisting in financing some of the many things that are required to do what I’m doing. These guys are passionate sailors who’ve built a great resource for the community - Use it.

Constellation has never been in better shape - She doesn’t necessarily look as Bristol as I might like, however from the point of view of what I’m doing, and what she’s already done, the sunbleached and paint stripped deck seem to represent nothing other the wrinkles found on a wise face. She’s sporting a re-cut mylar reaching sail, new luff tape on all sails for the Selden Furlex, and a pretty burgundy sailcover thanks to Mark at Doyle sails of Long Island - I exploded my genoa in Long Island sound last year in a line squall, and Mark generously expedited a replacement across to the Alameda Doyle loft two weeks ago - Thank you so much Mark.

Bain, whom I’ve lost contact with, (if you’re out there, email me!) ferried me around various chandleries, fed me, and just generally looked after Constellation and I in Berkeley - Along with Captain Ted I’ve been in great hands on the east bay. Thanks to Anthony and Jeff @ OCSC for the opportunity to do a talk on my trip, and to Karen for the helping fund the no-more-Ramen-diet I’m attempting this season.

After my brief stay in Sausalito, meeting the infamous Maria, and the not so infamous, yet humble and kind Buddhist monk Dawa, I set sail in the company of three other vessels for Half Moon Bay. Towed under the Golden Gate Bridge due to Constellations working but impossibly slow little diesel thumper, I was eventually untethered and let to roam free for the first time in the Pacific ocean. The weather was kind, and I set Windy the Windpilot on a nice tack heading West.

My friends in company eventually radioed and reminded me that we were actually supposed to be going south, but I was enjoying the sail so much, I setup a 2nm tack before bearing down on Half Moon. In light southerly winds, the other three boats needed to sail backwards and around in circles, so as not to leave me behind, before we eventually ghosted past the placid looking big wave surfspot, Mavericks, and through the breakwater into the bay.

Photo Courtesy Latitude 38 / LaDonna

Rafted up, and into town for clam chowder (one of my reasons for visiting America - To sail past the Statue of Liberty, and eat bowels of chowder), the next morning Captain Ted and I bought a Dungeness crab for brunch. I’ve never claimed to be a tough man. I couldn’t kill the crab, and so Rob did the honours, and I steamed the catch. Eating out of a bucket off the transom with butter, it was quite the occasion. My first Dungeness. LaDonna wrote a piece in Lectronic Latitude on the send-off party.

And so, as the now trio of boats motored out of the breakwater, I ran in circles and said my goodbyes over VHF. I thought in two days I would be gone… But here I am, waiting on the weather. I have a long and lonely six months ahead of me, as Constellation and I attempt to do virtually the entire Pacific (and then some), within six months. Actually, lonely isn’t the right word, but I will certainly be alone… And so the weather patterns are clearing, and the NW winds are set to resume their pattern, and I genuinly feel this weekend is going to be my departure window. I write to you from the anchorage at Half Moon Bay - These bits were posted by solar power.

I suspect my next post will be from the high seas - Remote updates will be zapped over satellite, thanks to Serversaurus.com.

Thanks for everything North America, now I have to get back to following the setting sun!

Nick.

I’ve sailed over to Sausalito now, and am staying in a slip donated by Adam & Rob for the week. The tentative plan is to head down to Half Moon bay this weekend, and then depart for Hawaii from there. Constellation’s rail was under the water for most of the sail over, and some new problems have arisen. The usual: Water ingress from a few new spots, and one that just won’t give up… If 3M or Sikaflex would sponsor me, I’d be happy to just poor it over the entire deck and be done!

Nick.

I’m hoping to have remote updates from my Pacific crossing, and this is a test post… I will write a more detailed blog before I depart, however I still have many things to organise, complete, and plan for.

My brother (ryanjaffe.com.au) is in Texas trying to get on his feet with the giant motorcycle he’s inherited - If you’re in the area, and have any contacts or just want to hear the funny Australian accent, I’m sure he’d be keen.

Nick

After a month-long delay by Nauti Buoy Marine out of Ohio in getting my boat to California, coupled with their terrible lack of communication, I can say one thing I’m happy about: Constellation arrived safe and sound. She may be late, and I may be stressed out, but, we’ll make it, I’m sure.

So much has happened, I’m lost for where to start… Jack and I crossed the country, he filmed, I filmed, and we had a blast. The interior of the United States is beyond comprehension. What a big and beautiful country, full of friendly and interesting people. I can’t write about everything, so this short video I shot will have to suffice:

After the epic cross-country trip, I landed in Berkeley, expecting my boat to be just a day or two behind me. So I waited, and waited… And waited. If it wasn’t for the extraordinary generosity of Captain Ted, I would have been up a creek without a paddle. He lent me a lovely boat just down the road from Berkeley marina, where I was able to stay until the truckers actually got their act together. From coast-to-coast the generosity of America continues to shine through. I had someone email me the other day, and tell me I’m the luckiest person they’d ever met… And, I have a feeling they might be right. Thank you Ted, you’re both a gentlemen and a lifesaver.

Fast forward a few weeks, and at long last, this happened:

Yes, I got to stand next to my boat. In California. It was a momentous occasion, having first proposed the idea back in Feb of 2008… I never knew whether it would be actually possible, and while it wasn’t exactly how I had intended it to happen… It happened nonetheless, and here we are.

As soon as the truck arrived, Constellation was thrown up on the crane by Berkeley Marine Center, and I ran about preparing for a quick launch. I dabbed up the antifoul, re-attached the rudder with the help of friendly onlookers (it seemed everyone was curious about the pretty red boat with lots of stickers), I launched, and Constellation floated.

With Captain Ted at the helm and help from Berkeley Marina, we were towed over to our slip, to begin the arduous re-assembly:

With thanks to my generous uncle, whom I saw recently in Eugene, I have power tools to help me along… I also have my brother, who flew in from Melbourne. Remember the crazy bike that Lee Winters loaned me when I had grand plans of crossing the country? I couldn’t register it… But, my brother can, so he’s riding it to Alaska. If you get bored with me, try him out at www.ryanjaffe.com.au. My poor parents.

So, that’s the abridged version of events… I’ll try to update more often, but, I’ll be off for Hawaii pretty soon. I’m already a bit late… For anyone that has written and I’ve not replied lately, especially those from the SF/Bay Area who wanted to visit and see the boat - Please email me again… I’m drowning in email. And for anyone that has my cell number, it is no longer functioning (waterlogged), after a small accident with a kayak …

Nick.

More here

I’m in love with the American landscape. As if I wasn’t already.

nick.

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I’m still rallying people to help Bluemapia support my voyage across the Pacific - ! Click here to find out how to help Bluemapia support my Pacific crossing, and also learn how to win a brand new SPOT messenger. If you haven’t already, please read this post and help me get across the Pacific!

There is an awful lot going on. To summarise, Constellation is being trucked mid-next week! So it’s all go go go… ! Unfortunately my dreams of riding that enormous bike Lee Winters gave me, have fallen through. It’s a long story… But, it basically came down to bureaucracy and time, so we’re heading west as per the plan next week without further delay. Remember, I need to be ready to make for Hawaii by early May. The boat will need to be re-assembled on the west coast, which will be quite a big task alone, and I suspect there will invariably be some teething problems due to the modifications and added gear that’s now onboard.

Jack the filmmaker arrives tomorrow from Germany, to keep the (figurative) celluloid rolling, and Monday week I fly out to Denver, Colorado… After which we will drive the rest of the way to San Francisco to meet Constellation on the other side. I had such grand and wild plans for this overland voyage. Remember, I was going to ride a bicycle… Do work for charity… There was a big list of things I had planned. But reality caught up with me, and those things fell through. It’s disappointing on the one hand, but on the other, it just means I’ll have to come back at some stage, and stay true to my word.

Constellation is coming along beautifully. I’m getting so much help with everything, it really still amazes me… I will write a proper parting letter detailing what wonderful things have been going on before I leave, but in short, John the engine mechanic (who has since been given the name ‘the engine whisperer’) managed to get ‘August the mighty Yanmar’ running again. There still seems to be some starting issues, however John, being a true engine whisperer, believes it is fixable. Personally I’m getting close to the point of throwing it in the trash, and buying a sculling oar, however, I will give the whisperer the benefit of the doubt, and let him whisper… Poor ‘August’, the tiny one cylinder diesel… He just wasn’t built to go around the world… Thank you John, I hope the next time we meet in earnest, all engines will be perpetual motion machines with only one moving part. Until then, keep whispering.

Mari, a true gentlemen and endless supporter of fine boating electrics, my antics, and this entire project, continues to help out on anything and everything. I’d be lost without Mari, but he requires an entire post (soon to come) to even scratch the surface of his extraordinary spirit and assistance.

Instead of writing to you from the cold port bunk of Constellation, I’m actually living in luxury. I came back to Long Island in winter, and Walt the Salt has put me up in a little house just minutes from the marina. I have a big warm room all to myself, in a nautically themed cottage. Not only that, but more often than not, Walt cooks a big dinner to keep the fat on me, for the upcoming period of month-long ocean passages, powered by cheap pasta. Everyday I come home and ask him questions, or get advice on the best way to do things. Imagine having a boating magic eight ball in your back pocket… That’s Walt…

I turned 28 last week, and today marks 550th official day this voyage has been underway. That doesn’t include the year I spent paying for, and working on the boat in England… Jack wrote me a funny email the other day, and said I’d told him on camera that I expected the voyage to take between ’six and nine months’ … I nearly fell off my chair in laughter! But here I am, on the greatest adventure I will probably ever have, propelled by the nicest people I’ll probably ever meet… And what crazy hard fun this all continues to be…

I recently had an opportunity to talk with Peter Mello as part of his podcast. It was a fun interview, and I really appreciate him taking time out to talk to me. You can listen to the interview here. Peter also gave me time to discuss the Bluemapia sponsorship proposal, as well as an opportunity to talk about Bluemapia as a whole, which was very nice.

So, as always, thank you to everyone, and I’ll try to write again before we keep heading west.

Always west.

nick.

Thanks so much to everyone who read my last post and call for help - As you can see from the above numbers, things are going well. But, the deadline to get those bar graphs up to 100% is the end of this month! If you haven’t already, please read this post and help me get across the Pacific!

So, other than working on Constellation (many great things are happening onboard - I’ll write another entire post dedicated to that… ), I’ve been hanging out with Stephane… ! Stephane and I tried to meet in New Jersey, as I arrived from the Caribbean, and he departed for Europe… Unfortunately, we were about a week apart! He has come back to work and continue his voyage… It was fun talking with him… Comparing notes… Laughing at having the same superstitions and similar experiences aboard our little Contessa’s.

Stephane has now gone back up to Canada for work, and so I’m again left to my own devices, preparing Constellation with all the great people I’ve met here in Greenport.

I’m going to miss this place… A lot.

More photos here…

nick.