Stories · The Voyage

Canada to Hawaii

4 July 2003

From Vancouver, Canada, illywhacker heads for Townsville, Australia, a journey from the North American continent to our own island continent. The first leg renews our respect for the big ocean.

Passage Plan

The Crossing

We enjoyed a rollicking northwesterly for the first few days and kept the wind off the stern on a course of 204 degrees True. After a week we found ourselves too far west and motored for 680nm. We found the Trades at 28N then followed them downwind to Hawaii, a distance of 2450nm from Victoria BC. This sounds idyllic but illywhacker had spent too much time motoring in the calm waters of the Inside Passage to take the open sea without complaint. With our fuel half spent, we were lighter in ballast and she tended to roll from side to side as each following wave lifted the stern and rotated the hull a few degrees causing a roll to one side. Our autopilot corrected madly and we'd roll over to the other side. Everyone knows that the way to correct this is to travel as fast as the waves and for 2 days we had the problem solved. With the headsail poled out to port and the MPS (multi-purpose spinnaker) to starboard, we travelled comfortably at speeds touching 7 knots. Unfortunately, the halyard parted due to chafing at the masthead and we lost it inside the mast. We were back to headsail and staysail which reduced our speed to 5.5knots, not bad but more rolly. Coupled with the rolling, we experienced sea swell from varying directions so we learnt to live aboard a washing machine!

Breakages and fun at sea

Motoring across the High gave us some exciting moments. At all times we could see floating debris, very similar in content to that we noticed when sailing Asian waters, perhaps the North Pacific currents circulate it all. In any case we were twice forced to dive over the side and cut the prop clear. This process required use of my dry suit as in Alaskan waters, we hadn't arrived in the Tropics at that time. The second time was a monster knot which unscrewed the prop anode and bent it's mounting shaft.
Motoring also raised the spectre of another monster that lives in the bilge. A slight oil leak and a few litres of water from slack maintenance on the rudder shaft stuffing box were the ingredients. An automatic bilge pump that I keep closed at the outlet to avoid surprise oil spills ran continuously and created an emulsion not unlike blancmange which grew alarmingly until the cause was discovered. Another time a loud screeching emanated from the stern gland and this turned out to be the prop shaft rubbing on the stern tube. Raising the engine mounts corrected it but a new cutlass bearing is defintely indicated.
More disturbing, the rolling motion apparently placed pressure on the top of the water tanks and several litres were forced into the adjacent gutters. Lyndall was sleeping on the saloon floor over the tanks (traditionally the position with the least motion at sea) but luckily remained dry. On top of this our ever-reliable GPS suddenly went blank - it was like a Yachtmasters' exam where they continually surprise you with the unexpected!

Life Aboard

While I kept the boat together as best I could, Lyndall and Jo our crew provided gourmet meals and we all kept regular 2 hour watches, looking out for shipping (there were 10) and wind changes. The meals were so good - we had salads and ice cream for the first 15 days with so many great pre-cooked stews or fresh stir fry that we could have been at a classy restaurant. Jo was sporting a red hairdo at the time and there was a plot aboard to have me undergo a beard-dyeing - luckily I am fleet of foot around the deck.