Travel Reference
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line which I had rewound onto a round plastic pipe I had found on Slipper Island. I had
shaped a handle from this and had sanded the edges to make them smooth. I now tied on a
new hook with a colorful red and white rubber skirt and a dolly lead weight. Making sure
that they were securely fastened, I paid out a long length of line. I attached the trusty, bun-
gee, elastic cord to a loop in this line and hoped I could catch a nice fish for Murphy and I.
The afternoon wore on into evening, and I saw lights starting to appear on the islands. I
saw the lighthouse lights and their various identifying timed flashes and occults. I checked
my bearing again, confirming my position. There were one or two boats out and about, but
because it was not a weekend, I didn't expect to see too many. By around eight o'clock,
I decided to take in the fishing line and boil up some bangers and mash and cabbage in-
stead. I had fed Murphy his crunchy biscuity things which he chomped down heartily, and
he fell asleep on the saloon floor on a towel I had placed out for him. He had learned to
use his little plastic sandbox, and I rewarded him for doing so with a piece of the sausage I
was eating. I had mixed some finely chopped cabbage in the mashed potatoes along with a
dollop of mayonnaise, and the Portuguese sausage had a smear of Old English hot mustard
across its back. I thoroughly enjoyed that. As a treat, I opened a bottle of beer that I had in
the locker, and while it wasn't too cold, it was most pleasant.
As I had slept earlier, I wasn't too tired and sat outside on a dry cushion and played my
guitar for a while as a yellow half-moon rose up out of the dark ocean. I finally turned in
after lighting a little, paraffin, hurricane lamp that I tied to the boom. I went below and
soon was lulled to sleep by the gentle sailing motion.
All the while, Déjà vu was sailing along unheeded in the general direction of Lanai. The
crossings between the island channels can be very rough. In blustery trades, the seas can be
very choppy and roguish. On the other hand, when the wind is mild, it can be almost too
calm, and if one is in the lee of an island, or the wind's shadow if you will, sailing is almost
impossible without running the motor.
I was still too far from land for wind shadows. The channel was relatively calm as the wind
was only about ten knots from the northeast. I awoke in the middle of the night and went
out into the cockpit to see how the night looked and to relieve myself. I was surprised at
how nippy it was. The wind had a chilly message in it from the cold mainland; winter was
approaching. I saw the various lighthouse lights and took bearings to them, adjusting my
deduced reckoning on the chart down below. I had twenty miles to go before Lanai. Thank
heavens for lighthouses and compasses. I couldn't imagine sailing without them. I expect
the modern sailor says the same thing about the GPS system, which was unheard of at this
time. A handy device, GPS, extremely accurate, but it takes a lot of fun from the challenge
and pride of navigating, I think.
