
We made good progress late yesterday afternoon, considering a whole load of fuel and the weight of the provisioning. Two full fuel tanks weigh ~4 tons, two 536 US gallon tanks, one near the keel of each of our two catamaran hulls, equals 1072 US gallons, enough for Bella Donna to motor sail 5,000-6,000 nautical miles depending on conditions; we have almost 4 tons in food and spare parts as well. We had 7 knots of apparent winds dead on the beam, 90° off our nose with both engines at 2000 RPM and the full Genoa up; we were able to do 10.6 knots speed over ground, near the best speed we have seen. There was a little current behind us; we estimated it to be at least 1 knot. The sea was flat with broad rolling swells. These conditions lasted well past sunset.
Typically, we motor sail using only one of our two Yanmar decile engines at a time at 1800 rpm. However, we will drop to 1600 rpm if we have a following wind and sea to save fuel. On a passage we will go 2-3 days on one engine and then alternate. We typically aim at 195nm to 200nm per day when moving downwind or the wind aft of the beam. If the wind is on the beam and the sea state is up, we aim at 175nm per day. Upwind, all bets are off on distance per day because the sea state, i.e., wave period, really affects things.
In complete darkness, we see four boat lights in front of us that do not appear on radar. We have difficulty estimating their distance, speed, and heading. We get out the binoculars and try to read their running lights. Their lights are white, which does not make sense; the boat on starboard has a flashing strobe light, maybe on his stern. Suddenly, the largest of the ships pops up on the radar screen 2 miles away on our starboard side; that is very close as we are going over 10 knots. We switch to standby, manual helm, and steer to port to clear the larger boat without being able to read his direction because he is not displaying running lights. This brings us closer to a smaller boat off our port, but we are still a very respectful and safe distance away. As we pass between the two vessels, which are a great distance, miles apart, we hear a loud crunching sound as Bella Donna shutters as if we had hit something in the water. Something like a rubber band snapping in the water rips off into the night. Engines are neutral; we drift and steer head to wind to survey any damage. Around the port prop, we find what is left of a line with floats and fishing hooks baited with fresh chicken parts. The two fishing boats had a trotline stretched between them, and as we passed between the two vessels, we ran over their trotline; we did not know what damage had been done. We shut down the port engine for the rest of the night until someone could go overboard and survey the damage in the light of day. We slow down, way down.
We turned off the air conditioning shortly after leaving, but it was cool enough for me to fall asleep immediately after my watch. We do not open hatches on passage. Thus, residual cool air had been trapped for hours. I awake a little after midnight; it is hot; now I wish the hatch was open. The air is so heavy that each breath is work. I stumble into the cockpit; there is a cool breeze, and I immediately collapse on one of the couches and fall back asleep. At 5 AM, I am awakened by an alarm going off, which is not so unusual as to worry me. On a night watch, we often set the radar to warn us if a vessel is within a given radius. John is up and looks busy and concerned. He says we have lost our navigational electronics. Lightning is visible, but so many miles away, there is no thunder. We have to hand steer and use charts. We still have a backup GPS attached to the VHF radio to give us our position. This begins to remind us of the time lightning took our navigation instruments out in a storm in the Mediterranean, and we had to use charts, a GPS watch, and hand steering to navigate to safety safely.
In the middle of our watch, John comes to the flybridge and turns on the navigation equipment. The problem is resolved: A GPS receiver has failed, and we have provisioned two spares. After a quick repair, we are on our way.
Later in the morning, the wind completely dies, and the ocean is like glass; this is a good time to stop Bella Donna, go over the side, and check the port prop. Once we are stopped, John dives down to take a look. It turns out the prop is free of fishing lines. The only damage is wearing the hull down to aluminum at the base of the prop shaft, which is caused by the anode rubbing and banging during the canal transit. With both engines working, we are on our way again.
God Bless Bella Donna.
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