The Eastern Pacific - Pacific Crossing Notes: A Sailor's Guide to the Coconut Milk Run - page 211

Taking It Easy
The defining challenge for this passage had become apparent: speed, or lack thereof.
Therefore, it was to be a test of patience more than endurance or fortitude. It seemed that
we were destined to approach the Galapagos Islands at a ponderous, turtle-like pace. (Ap-
propriate, no?) But what's an unbearable curse to some is a blessing to others. Our passage
became a leisurely, serene affair, exactly the antithesis to our anxious preparation period
back in Panama. In fact, it turned out to be one of the most enjoyable passages we ever had.
Even the rolling seas gradually eased to very long, gentle swell. Mixing up a batch of
muffins in the galley (an unthinkable proposition during our windward passage from the
US East Coast to the Bahamas), I had the fleeting sensation Namani was tethered in a mar-
ina somewhere, so mild was her motion.
Other than the occasional hour or two under engine for the thrill of a few miles made good,
we slugged it out under sail. Why? One factor was budgetary: diesel isn't cheap and would
be even more expensive to replace in the Galapagos. Another was the lack of a better place
to motor to: we found no point in reaching another blank place on the chart that was
equally devoid of wind. Meanwhile, Namani was still on track to make Bill's deadline,
even at her sluggish two to three knot pace - thanks to our quick shot out of the starting
blocks and the occasional, ambitious puff of wind that treated us to a brief but exhilarating
four knot gallop. One reason we had left home and jobs behind to go cruising was to escape
the harrying clock that had so defined every aspect of our former lives. Instead of scrutiniz-
ing the time, we clung to reports on the behavior of the Intertropical Convergence Zone, the
force with its finger on the wind controls. Since the ITCZ was weakly defined at that point
in time, more of the same light conditions were expected.
Things were going swimmingly just as they were. So much so that we made a swim call,
taking turns to go for an exhilarating dip in 9,000 foot depths. After Nicky suffered the
only injury of the trip in the form of a jellyfish sting, we launched our inflatable kayak (on
a small boat, all our toys have to be inflatable) for a quick paddle around Namani on the
boundless, silvery blue sea. It was an eerie feeling to be even a few yards away from the
mother ship, although seas were calm and visibility perfect. I wondered if the crews of
early exploratory missions felt the same pang when setting out into oceans that must have
seemed even more vast than they do today. Like them, we scanned our watery world from
the mast top and found nothing. Or rather, we found a fascinating, fluid landscape painting
in which the hills shifted, rose, and approached before shuffling toward the opposite hori-
zon.