Well it was definitely slower going than we had hoped. A “typical” time frame for a sailboat like Cariba can be between 22 and 30 days… so we decided to use all that time! It was an eventful passage. There were some equipment failures and navigational decisions that affected the length of the passage and some excitement in the middle requiring us to contact the Joint Rescue Coordination Centre but stay tuned for that as you read this very long post! I am trying to get this done before we leave for the PNW next week… so buckle in for the duration!
We departed Los Muertos on April 13th at noon with spirits high, full of adrenalin and curiosity as to what lay ahead. Our first waypoint was 30 miles south of the Cabo San Lucas. Our intention was to avoid the strong head winds that bend around the bottom of the Baja peninsula. It was very slow going at first in light winds. However, 24 hours later when we neared the waypoint the wind and sea state increased dramatically. As we were now entering the open Pacific, we continued on with triple reefed main and staysail on a close reach battling 30 knots of wind and swells of 3 meters. Since the swells were stacked so close together, we were able at best to maintain an average speed of 4 knots. Decks were awash continually as we were taking many waves over the bow. At one point one wave came completely over the boat and snuck under the butterfly hatch to soak Sue in bed!
The rolling and pitching of the boat was relentless over the next 3 days. At one point the motion was so severe that Brian did a complete back flip in the cabin. He went backwards literally 360 degrees landing next to me on the bed. I gave him a 10.0 for the landing… no sailors were injured in this move! Meals consisted of finger foods; sashimi, cheese and crackers, hard boiled eggs, granola bars, bowls of cereal and only instant coffee – Yuck! The galley was closed to cooking!
By the end of week one the wind had moved more to the east so sails were eased and Cariba was more on a beam reach. There was less pitching now but rolling continued with swells on the beam. had settled into a routine and we were getting used to the motion. The galley opened up to serve soups, spaghetti and prepared meals from the freezer. We found our groove for sleeping and watch schedules that worked for the majority of the passage. After dinner, Sue would go to bed and sleep 4 to 5 hours, waking around midnight and then Brian would go below for about the same length of time. We would then trade off for shorter naps during the day based on need. This seemed to work well for us and other than a few times later in the passage when the weather and seas were rough, we didn’t feel sleep deprived.
With the wind moving to the East, we were able to maintain a course on a rhumb line to Hilo. However, our weather router now recommended adjusting our course to the south to a latitude of 19-degrees N. This course change put us well below the rhumb line but the intention was to stay in good winds rather than sail into the light winds directly west of us. Later we were to regret this course change as it added distance to our voyage and things did not pan out as expected.
Initially on the new course on a broad reach, we had good winds with a boat speed of 5+ knots. But that all changed a day or so later as the winds died completely.
As much as we wanted to conserve our fuel in case we needed it later, we decided to power for the next 12 hours to get through the light air patch. Fuel is a precious commodity not to be wasted on a passage of this duration. Our motoring capacity is only 600 nm, which is nothing on a passage of just under 3000 nm.
We turned around briefly at this point as well. On starting the engine Brian noticed a bit of salt water in the bilge with no clear source. This was surprising as Cariba has always been a very dry boat. The good news was the bilge pump emptied the water quickly. Brian checked all the hoses and thru hulls, lifted floorboards but could not find any water ingress. We decided the likely source was from the anchor locker, not surprising given the number of waves we had previously taken over the bow. After careful consideration we turned back around and resumed our passage to Hilo – a back track of only 10nm. In the coming days we monitored the bilge carefully and did not see any accumulation of water.
Day 7 to 9 winds were so light we made great use of Big Bird our Code Zero. We call her our diesel saver as she moves this boat so well in light winds and we don’t have to motor. For the next 48 hours Big Bird moved us along nicely. All was well until the morning of Day 9. I was on watch with Brian sound asleep down below, and heard a loud bang. Looking for the source, I was surprised to see Big Bird falling and floating in the water. I yelled for Brian, “the sail, the sail” and up he came up thinking I was saying “whale, whale”. Fortunately, we were able to retrieve the soaking wet sail without any damage. We discovered the cause for this equipment failure was the halyard block at the top of the mast. Unfortunately, due to corrosion the block was unable to swivel. The stress on the metal attachment of the block caused it to break and all came crashing down.
The loss of the halyard on the port side caused two issues ultimately affecting the duration and comfort of the rest of the passage. One, we had lost the ability to fly Big Bird. Two, this halyard also was the one we used for the whisker pole on the port side. For the non-sailors in the group, when the winds are light, the head sail requires some support to prevent it from flogging. The flogging is very loud and can stress the sail and it’s supporting structures like the furler. Ironically the preferred tack to keep up us on course was to have the sails out on the port side – aka known as “starboard tack”. As the wind was too light to fill the larger yankee, we had to use the staysail, a much smaller sail. We feel the loss of this halyard and Big Bird added at least 5 days to our passage. Our boat speed was much slower, and it was also harder to maintain the course off the wind. This led to many frustrating days ahead.
The next week and a half was challenging with multiple sail changes, gybes and struggling to maintain speed on our desired course. I can’t count the number of times Brian would pole out the yankee on the starboard side, only to then take it down, gybe and pull out the staysail on the opposite tack. The sea state for the most part was awful. We had hoped to be reaching the trade winds around this time, but they never really developed. We had envisioned a passage that was a broad reach to downwind with following seas. The reality was swell from so many directions it was hard to keep track and the rolling motion from the counter swell made life aboard very uncomfortable.
It wasn’t all bad though! For a very brief time, the seas were smooth like glass. We had no wind so we set the AIS and radar alarms to warn of ships within 20nm, dropped sails and we both went to bed until the wind filled in about 5 hours later. So strange to be parked in the middle of the ocean. We hadn’t seen a ship in days and didn’t see any until much closer to Hawaii.
We finally started to catch some fish. Small mahi mahi first, but larger ones as we moved further offshore. We caught a total of 9 fish; we threw back several small ones and kept three to eat. No tuna though; I am hoping for at least one on the passage to the PNW.
We had a great meal and celebration on Day 16 – which we dubbed our half-way day. Steak, baked potatoes and bubbly were on the menu. It was perfect as the seas were calm, so the galley was able to produce an excellent meal.
We had our first visitors over this week. Now that we were more than 1000nm offshore, we were starting to see albatross. Several spend the nights on the bowsprit. They are meant to symbolize good luck, safe passage, fair winds and a safe return home. They were a welcome sight each day and helped out the mood on the boat. At this point morale was slipping as we realized we had so much further to go and we were already at Day 16 or 17. It would be over 5 more days before we had less than 1000nm to Hilo and it was starting to feel like we were never going to get there!
It was lucky we had that halfway meal when we did as the next few days had us back to crackers and peanut butter sandwiches! The sea state, fickle winds, constant motion and roll was not helping the mood on board one bit! Another lesson learned from this passage it not to have preconceived ideas on the type or length of the passage. Brian was better at living in the moment whereas I was calculating the number of miles left and the fact we were only going 3 knots SOG at times!
On Day 18 we received another weather routing update forecasting a couple of low-pressure systems passing to the south of us. This meant wind on the way!!! Soon after we were on a broad reach in 30 knot winds and 3 meter seas. Day 19 was the low point of this passage that we didn’t share on our PredictWind posts. It was 2300 hours and Brian was on watch when he noticed Harry seemed to be having trouble maintaining a course which was unusual. Deciding to hand steer, Brian disengaged the hydrovane. Cariba turned sharply to starboard and came close to a knock down. He had great difficulty in trying to reestablish the course and it was obvious the rudder was compromised. With no moon, it was pitch black, but he was able to correct the course and quickly re-engaged the hydrovane. However, Cariba was still very unmanageable. At this point he decided to hove to investigate. I found myself waking up to words you don’t want to hear. Brian told me that we had no adequate steering and the hydrovane seemed compromised as well.
Cariba was stable being hove to and what came next was a rapid assessment of the steering mechanism. This meant quickly emptying out the entire quarter berth – aka the garage to gain access. The boat was a disorganized mess in no short order! The good news was that on inspection, the steering quadrant, cables and the rudder post inside the boat were intact and we were not taking on water. A rudder post failure can result in a huge water ingress and the sinking of a boat. The part of the steering we were unable to examine was obviously the rudder. We were concerned because we were heard banging below the water line near the rudder.
We decided that a Pan Pan was in order. We set off our EPIRB and called the Joint Rescue Coordination Center (JRCC) on the Iridium Go. Thank goodness we had the Iridium as well as Starlink as it was nice to actually call someone! JRCC then put us in contact with JRCC-Honolulu. We discussed our options with them and dropped sails to minimize stress on the rudder situation until the morning.
At daylight, Brian was able to resolve the Hydrovane issue and set sails with Harry steering again. We then tried to figure out what had caused the issue. With our rudder design and attachment, it was highly unlikely that it had detached at any of it’s attachment points. The rudder itself was brand new in 2024 and we felt confident that it’s internal structure was intact. Due to the sea state and strong winds going over the side with snorkel and mask to examine the rudder was not a safe option.
We continued with Harry faithfully steering us towards Hawaii for the next 2 weeks. A few days later we did try steering with the wheel, and it seemed to be working but still not adequate. Brian compared it to steering a “wet sponge”. The JRCC-Honolulu monitored our position on AIS and had us emailing our status to them every 12 hours.
On the fourth day after losing our steering, we had squall after squall with rain and confused seas. It was after dark and we changed the sails to be out on the port side (starboard tack). Suddenly we could hear frequent loud bangs under the stern. We could only assume that this was related to our rudder issues. Once we changed to port tack with the sails on the other side, the banging stopped. This increased our anxiety and level of concern. We notified JRCC-Honolulu and they increased our reporting communications to every 6 hours.
The banging persisted intermittently for the next two days. At one point Brian moved the wheel back and forth and the sounds diminished. Later that day we realized that it didn’t matter what tack we were on, the banging had stopped. We couldn’t wait to get to Hilo, drop the hook and go over the side to see what the hell was going on!
Normally on this passage the trade winds can be found somewhere after crossing longitude 130-degrees W. We can count on one hand the number of times we had the classic trade winds and not until 145 to 150-degrees W. This is an El Nino year, so we assume this was part of that phenomenon. We either had 25 to 30 knots of wind or no wind. The direction of the wind changed almost minute to minute near the frequent squalls. It made for very frustrating slow progress.
The sea state got so bad that one night Brian couldn’t even sit on the cockpit seats without falling off. When it was my turn to take the watch, he told me to stay down below while he made himself a nest with the cushions and dozed on the cockpit floor. I was nicely braced in the bed supported by 4 or 5 pillows. The motion was the worst we had experienced in this entire passage.
The last 4 or 5 days are a bit of a blur. We averaged only 83nm per day so it was starting to feel like we would never arrive. But we did! The clouds were low on the horizon so we didn’t have a textbook Land-Ho moment, but you could smell the land as we got closer. We turned the engine on just after sunrise on the final day. Motoring meant that we would have to use the traditional wheel steering and give Harry a rest. We were concerned about how well the steering would function, but it started out a bit ‘sluggish’ and then worked perfectly.
We checked into the US using the CPB roam app and then dropped the hook behind the breakwater in the Hilo harbour at 1130 hours. Total passage time 29 days, 23 hours, 30 minutes. Miles travelled 2781 and motoring time only 26.5 hours! We were so happy to be not moving – especially not rolling! Next steps, a long sleep and then to explore Hilo Hawaii!
And to answer all your questions… would we do this again. The answer is yes and the next passage starts soon. Home to the PNW. And the next day Brian did dive on the boat and found nothing obvious to explain the rudder issues. Our best guess is that we picked up some debris like a net or something similar. We had seen a couple of buoys in the water in the days prior. This might also explain the banging as well…. We will never know for sure!
SV Cariba 