Almost there - here comes the danger part
Feb 29 17:50:05 2008 UTC - 0 34.86 N - 107 31.01 W
Yesterday evening we passed the equator, and returned to “our”
I wonder who invented this foolishness about the equator, greasing
people, or compelling to drink the urine of a colleague mixed with
This perhaps is beating of froth, in order for it to be a little
like conquering Cape Horn ... And a subject in a bar for marine
tales, how many times already I passed the equator and in which
manner in connection with this one must think about me...
From the moment when still as a "pup" I experienced how unstable
human opinion is from nature, I stopped caring about it.
When I cared about how other people think of me, they had me in
their hands ... Only when I stopped caring about recognition from
the outside, I became my own master ...
Still before the cruise I carried in myself a remainder of vanity, I
wanted a picture of Luka to hang in "my" port bar "Under Omega", and
under it the flag we carried during the cruise, but I stopped caring
about that, now that would remind me of a monument on a grave, and I
don’t like cemeteries ...
Now I only care about taking Beata on my knee and eating well smoked
sausage, the rest is an illusion and nonsense.
Feb 28 18:35:19 2008 UTC - 0 6.11 S - 106 53.98 W
At night it puffed a little and we sailed into a marine oasis ...
Wacek is going crazy since this morning, he barks at the birds of
which there’s so much here, a great herd of dolphins swam beside us.
We didn’t arouse their interest; they passed us half a mile on
portside. Without a hurry they swam away in the direction of the
equator, as if the whole “tribe" was moving onto a new hunting
Young dolphins, and also the big ones, but still “young" were
playing and did tricks worthy of the best oceanarium. It’s not true
that the coaches teach the dolphins these tricks that later awe the
audience. All these jumps, revolutions and tricks in the water they
do naturally for entertainment, in captivity one can only teach them
to do it on call for food...
The herd slowly swam beside us, but at this distance it didn’t make
sense to take a picture with our camera, I leaned comfortably on the
bezan and through binoculars, like in a theatre, I observed their
Young dolphins jumped the highest, every few moments they jumped
from the water, vertically up, like a missile, a good 10 meters
high, or higher ...
Some turned slowly in the air, and the entered the water, cleanly
like a jumper from a diving-board. Most often, however, they fell
like logs of wood, spraying water on all sides. I had the impression
that one bigger one, a master in jumping was showing the young ones
how to jump and they were imitating him, often with comic
Bigger, serious dolphins liked brief and quick bounds right over the
water, they turned quickly 360* and fell back into the water flat.
Cheerful herd, like a troupe training before the circus show, they
passed us slowly, ignorant of or ignoring the accidental audience.
Then I noticed something on the water, in such silence, the surface
of the ocean is smooth like a mildly folded mirror, and when it’s
like that you can see anything on the surface ... We moved like a
turtle, in the direction of a miniature island, and I, through
binoculars, tried to see what this was ...
Maybe a corpse of a dolphin, or a young whale ...
We came closer still and I reached the conclusion that this has to
be a great turtle. But it was not moving at all, maybe it was
sleeping, or maybe it died. If it died and doesn’t stink too
strongly, I could bring it on deck, throw away the body and we would
have a monstrously great shell for something.
A trophy ... I got into a huntsman’s trance, but I had no intention
of killing the turtle if it turned out that it’s only taking an
I yelled, I hit a piece of wood about the yacht, but it looked like
it was either dead or deaf. In the end I took a signaling pistol and
shot taking aim a few meters from him.
The bang of the shot and then the boiling phosphorus under water
woke him up for a few moments. Tortoise slowly raised his head,
looked around in a turtle’s pace, and moved his fin, as if speaking
“I’m alive but I do not want to move” and again it fell asleep.
After some time we passed by him
Feb 27 16:16:53 2008 UTC - 0 39.97 S - 106 18.31 W
Silence caught up with us and looks like we will get bogged up in
it. Any speculations about the entrance to Ensenada are of no
substance at this point, we can think about that when we will pass
10 degree N.
More and more people ask when I will know exactly the date we will
enter the port, or will it be a weekend etc ...
These questions kill my “blessed peace" which I so treasure here.
Settling on a date, of even an approximate time puts us “in frames”
and it causes that, subconsciously, I begin to hurry, and a
beautiful sunny day, such as today, starts to irritate me, because
there is no wind.
And all this because people have to know the exact day of my return
We will enter Ensenada when we will reach it, and each speculation
from my side on the subject of date becomes a commitment, and such a
"bridle" I will only permit myself to wear with a knife at my throat
Feb 26 18:45:17 2008 UTC - 0 57.02 S - 105 54.45 W
60 miles to equator. Yesterday we turned 15* to the west, but even
so today the silence caught up with us, something there always
pushes us, but on the water there isn’t even one wrinkle, Mother
Ocean has a smooth mouth today, and smiles at us nicely...
The "house ulcer” broke , out poured a bucket of pus, but now at
least it will have a chance to heal ...
Wacek changed his preferences, the screws don’t excite him anymore,
now he steals tools from the engine room.
I found a big screwdriver and pincers, I searched for them a while
While using the bathroom I noticed that the water flowing down
spirals to the left, which means that we’re still sailing on the
I wonder in what direction my breakfast will turn tomorrow morning.
Feb 25 15:36:53 2008 UTC - 1 37.59 S - 105 11.68 W
Feb 24 15:08:59 2008 UTC - 2 40.25 S - 104 30.17 W
It’s sad and
gray. For many years now Beata and I grow a lovely flower, the plant
is now ill and it withers. Sad and gray.
It’s still quiet, I can’t get anything out of her, something extra
large had to have happened and my angel probably wet her paws in it,
and now decided to be proud and not explain. I understand it all,
only the middle of the sea is a bad place for such emotional games
and besides that I have no alcohol.
We sail, in spite of the sun it became gray.
Beata sent me 10 text messages at night, but she does not answer the
She has some problems. Lately perhaps I overly criticized her
decisions, especially those she made while emotional...
Almost always there were some consequences to them, and I could not
keep myself from spirited comments. Now Beata closed up and does not
want to say what happened. Not to know, not to understand, not to
see, that for me is the greatest torment. Damn "fear of the
I am able to untie any know if I see it, there isn’t a hole I
couldn’t fix, if I can only find it, but for such "wiseacres" like
me there exists something extra, something no one can put a finger
on and tighten the screw, the damn “fear of the unknown”. Now it sat
down upon us like a stinking, rotten bat, and looks on...
Feb 22 16:28:57 2008 UTC - 4 42.32 S - 102 59.01 W
The wind quieted
down more, the ocean became flat, at night I was considering taking
down the genoa, but it drew us a little and the autopilot kept us on
Yesterday I got a letter with late information about the moon
eclipse, so this bloody glimmer on the moon the preceding night was
a prelude to the eclipse...
So, that was cleared up.
I threw out everything from the warehouse, to which you can only get
through a manhole from the deck. Now the cables, mooring-rope,
rounders, the reserve anchor and 30 m of chain are warming up on
deck from humidity of Cape Horn.
The reserve is a plough anchor, I bought it cheap because it’s
Chinese, but of course I made a mistake, it wasn’t even in the water
yet and already it rusted, perhaps I will rinse it with sweet water,
and spray with some paint...
I would have done better buying a used anchor made in US, or for
example in solid Sweden.
I incessantly experience something, but this something is usually an
effect of my previous
I wanted to have a new anchor in reserve, but in the course of a
year it became old and it will be necessary to paint it now. Maybe
we will meet some sailor without an anchor; I will gladly give it to
him. Maybe that’s precisely why I bought it and carry it around the
world, maybe I’m keeping it for some John, or Kazik without a dime,
who soon will lose his only anchor, and will begin praying for a new
Feb 21 17:45:13 2008 UTC - 5 36.22 S - 102 28.76 W
Splendid sailing, although I should say splendid being on the ocean,
because we’re actually sailing very little, we’re moving very
slowly, and actually Luka navigates herself, and I feel like in a
home on water ...
It’s warm, but it is not hot, a pleasant slight wind cools us, the
wind is just strong enough to fill out our grand genoa and push us
slowly in direction of Ensenada.
This time I managed to exchange the uphaul before it tore off,
„practice makes a master.”
Today genoa would probably slide down; the cable was almost worn
thin. I cut off the ending, and the new one I secured with a plastic
hose and tape, this should suffice for some time.
Genoa nr 2 is about 20 years old, but it is still in good condition
and extended on boom it deals perfectly with feeble wind. I bought
it right before the cruise and it will stay with us.
Old sail however needs fixing, I especially need to sew the bottom,
it frayed through the years and in many places the stitches begin to
So I dug out our sewing machine, but it turned out that I should
have looked in on it more often because it rusted a little.
I treated it right away with a little wire brush and a great
quantity of DW40 (effective rust remover).
Today we will lubricate our sewing machine with oil, and we will
check if it still works.
It is not easy to find a machine for sewing of sails.
Besides the fact that it has to be strong enough to puncture the
many-layered sections of sail, it also has to sew with a zigzag
(simple sewing weakens sail), and it has to have walkingfoot – a
foot tightening and moving the material.
Most machines, even if they sew with a zigzag, are too delicate, or
they don’t have a moving foot, and a crew member is needed in order
to pull the material from the machine.
I bought it on Ebay and only when I got it I found out that this is
a product of China.
I couldn’t send it back, because it’s a heavy machine, and after all
it sewed ...
However as soon as we got to the edge of sail, it stopped to sew.
I never before neared any sewing machines and I did not know what
the problem was.
But this is after all a machine, and all machines act in a logical
manner, with cause and with consequence.
I dove in the subject and after a week of trying and setting up of a
few supporting screws, the machine started listening to me, and I
became an expert on regulating sewing machines. This week of
intimacy linked us together hehehe, and even though it’s Chinese, I
have a fondness for it now. We sewed together almost all of the
front sails and we shortened the bought on ebay for $200
hundred-meter genoa, it was 2 m too long.
I did not yet have an occasion to use it, I wonder if my fixing the
bottom corners will serve it well. Then I discovered that in order
to fix the sail well, it’s necessary to first tightly extend it,
otherwise it won’t work, the narrow place will pull and again it
will snatch up.
In the evening from behind the horizon slid out a great dial of the
moon. When I inspected the environment later, the silver moon
changed into yellow-brown.
It looked like a scene from a horror movie 'The death of a planet”.
I stared and wondered what happened to the moon...
Around midnight the bloody color disappeared, the greater part of
the moon also disappeared.
On a cloudless sky now hang a thin, silver crescent...
When of a few hours later I was checking the environment, on the sky
again reined the full dial of moon and it lit the ocean with silver
brightness, like a gigantic lantern.
This had to be a moon eclipse, and this yellow-bloody glimmer was
caused by some planet which then hid it.
Wacek barks on the deck, there’s a herd of dolphins nearby hunting,
they enclose the fish in narrow circles and then stun them by
hitting their tails about water. Maybe they’ll leave some for us...
Feb 20 17:39:43 2008 UTC - 6 40.17 S - 101 53.29 W
Trade wind weakens; we’re sailing slow, but
thanks even for this, each day we approach Ensenada.
I was looking at the topping-lift of grotto which now is elevated.
The block of topping-lift is fastened on the back side of mast, and
the stay, how it’s usually with stays, is in the front, so the cable
comes around the mast and leans on which rubs it.
Today I will take down the genoa, cut off the end of topping-lift up
to the place in which it rubs, and the new end I will secure with a
For some time now life on Luka has slowed down, so I took to
training the crew.
For now I discouraged Wacek from treating the whole deck like a
garden and for a few days now he does his business only on the
Next step will be inducing him to put his mines on a mat which will
be attached with a longer cable to the railing.
He probably won’t learn to “flash the toilet"; the captain will have
to throw the mat to water.
I’m reading a book about the Maciejewicz cruise and I’m sorry that
it will end soon, the boys were stopping all the time, and this
bacon from a Polish fisherman's ship in Peru, they ate that for a
They also cited the extraordinarily reports of two yachts, Japanese
The Japanese fought with sharks using a boat hook, because they
tried to bite off his helm heheh (not bad BS), the Germans were
attacked by a herd of blood-thirsty dolphins (still better BS), and
they were saved only because they immediately turned on the
That’s how “Marine Tales" are born.
Feb 19 17:06:19 2008 UTC - 7 43.06 S - 101 23.67 W
again I’m thankful to Ken from Ensenada for the boom which he gave
The wind since yesterday is feeble, and on this course without a
boom the genoa would jerk around pitifully and I would have to take
it down in the end, although as before we do 2-3 knots.
I’m already beginning to plan the “after cruise” repairs, also the
emotional ending of the cruise starts.
I look forward to the work period on the yacht, I remember two years
of preparations before the cruise very pleasantly...
Ensenada is situated near the border with US, and it’s easy to get
the necessary parts, and the list is long. Besides, I changed the
big bathroom on the left ship's side to engine rooms, now in the
second, smaller bathroom I have to make a convenient shower, and the
room in the salon which earlier constituted part of the engine room,
I will change into a second bathroom ...
At sea there are usually no shops, and on yacht the rule everything
"in two’s” prevails, in case of accidents ...
Besides it’s comfortable to have two bathrooms, especially when the
crew gets up about the same time and they are for example: Sara,
Beata’s daughter, who spends half her life in the bathroom, and my
two princesses, Kasia and Alicja are not any worse in this regard...
Besides, with the end of this cruise the stage of solitary
navigating in my career is officially closed.
27,000 miles, which in the language of overland rat means 50.000 km
of talking to myself will suffice ...
Before the cruise from two containers for water I made the
containers for petroleum, and now it will be necessary to build new
container for water. I will make it in the front part of yacht,
integrally with trunk, in place where the ballast begins. The
additional tons in the front part of yacht will cause our beak to
dip slightly, so we will also build integral two accessory
containers in the stern cabin, there we will keep -+ 500 liters of
petroleum, the iron reserve. Stern is higher; I will be able to
empty them to the main container gravitationally. The repair should
keep me busy until August, and at the end of the hurricane season we
will go through the Panama Canal to the Caribbean. This time we will
stop often, maybe we will enter the Cortez Sea for a week or two.
We will surely enter Venezuela and we fill up there under cork. With
new containers on stern, we will probably pour in about 2.5 tons of
fuel. With such capacity it’s worth to look for a cheaper “gas
Then straight to Cuba, there we will fill up on rum, Cuba rum as
before is indecently cheap ...
Filled up to the teeth we will find some cozy bay on the Bahamas,
with access to the internet (we have an antena, we can get a signal
within a few kilometers) and in such a place so that Beata could
spend weekends with us.
We will dive, I will make two cages for spiny lobsters and crabs, we
will be drink rum with juice and ice, we will eat fresh oysters,
spiny lobster and sashimi from freshly caught fish and we will
receive guests, hopefully from Poland, and still more gladly from
my hometown, Ilawa.
And let someone tell me today that "life is not a fairy-tale”.
Feb 18 16:04:17 2008 UTC - 8 47.47 S - 100 50.76 W
the morning Wacek raised alarm, he was barking at a red cask moored
to something, with which it drifted, because it’s too deep for
Probably longline, long rope with thousands of hooks and bait.
In that case there must be fish here, but our fishing-rods are
Today the wind quieted down and it became hot, I am glad now that I
put thermal isolations in and the heated deck does not warm the
inside, although our deck does not warm up too much, it is white ...
I sympathize with folks traveling in the tropics, in a yacht with a
deck with lain out tic.
Such dark wooden deck heats up a lot and along with it the inside of
You can’t go barefoot; it burns like a warmed frying pan.
Perhaps I will take off the lead weights from baits, I put them
there so that the baits would go deeper, because of the seagulls,
but now nothing takes...
Feb 17 17:28:23 2008 UTC - 9 55.69 S - 100 25.77 W
I changed the
genoa, I had to use grotto which a little in “Chinese" I
put on the second side of mast, the uphaul of this genoa frayed and
it broke still on Indian, and there is no entrance onto the mast in
a place other than smooth like a mirror port.
I barely survived the last climb.
In the evening I had to fill up the boom, take it down, and throw
down the just put up genoa. I noticed torn bit on the “free link"...
I fought with laziness awhile, it would be more comfortable to fix
it tomorrow morning.
I belong to the "skylarks” and not counting sex, it’s difficult to
compel me to evening work ...
But in the morning I get up rested and ready for anything ...
If however I wait until tomorrow, it might turn out that the hour of
sewing would turn into a day, or two. Besides I couldn’t sleep, and
even if it was not so, I would hear how at each squall the sail
tears still more ...
It was 7 in the evening, the sun was still high, perhaps I should
again set my watch. I took the boatswain box and the self-adhesive
tape which like the maker assures, should settle the affair without
sewing. I do not trust such assurances and I assemble it double,
sometimes even threefold, I stick patches from both sides of sail,
and I hem twice, making a competent zigzag, then I sew with X’s at a
I was finishing sewing, racing with the sun. I won, and before it
got dark, the genoa again drew us in the direction of Ensenada.
Earlier I made two new baits from a can and colored bit of strings.
I unfolded one “fishing-rod”, but on the second side of stern is
attached a long cable which we are dragging over stern in case of
I wanted to take it from the water and put in its place the second
fishing-rod, after all we have no designs to go overboard here, it
is quiet, we are in trade winds ...
But almost immediately I imagined that I was going overboard, which
can actually happen a few times daily, it would suffice that
something atypical would happen, something suddenly will break,
unscrew and I will lose equilibrium and splash...
Then I saw myself in deadly fear trying to catch the rope left over
stern for precisely such circumstance. Panicked I look for the rope,
and it hangs smartly on railing. Luka sails on, on autopilot, but
there is a thin cable and hook with bait, maybe I can catch it ...
A horrible vision – the sailing away yacht and no likelihood to
return to it and all from my own stupidity.
Sense of guilt and stupidity would probably kill me before I could
In spite of it all I wanted to throw out the second fishing-rod, so
I found a compromise, I tied the cable with bait to the end of the
other cable and both are in the water.
Now if I fell out and could not catch the rope, I could always
swallow the hook...
Feb 16 16:50:19 2008 UTC - 11 27.15 S - 99 40.99 W
Instead of fish
we caught a „chicken” ... Something nagged at me and I put a flying
fish as bait ...
Foolish seagull, it must have been young, it rushed at it and
swallowed the bait together with hook ... Wacek raised alarm, but he
had to have missed the beginning, because when I jumped on deck the
seagull was already dead ...
This was a little sad, a useless death.
I will not use flying fish as bait anymore.
I decided to change the genoas. Genoa on roller is not extended
fully, because the boom that pushes it is half a meter too short.
Even strongly selected, it works on the roller and gradually frays,
especially the edges hemmed with sanbrella. We will stay on this
course a few more days, so today I will put up the old genoa on
This sail is traditionally pinned to the stay with snap hooks, so
jerking lightly on the wave will not bother it, although if sails
were able to speak, we would probably hear a discussion.
Feb 15 16:31:17 2008 UTC - 12 49.92 S - 98 58.87 W
Every day in the
morning I check the fishing-rods and nothing, we’re not catching
anything, a few days ago flying fish appeared, so somewhere in the
neighborhood must be those bigger ones that hunt them. Besides that,
I finished the distilled alcohol, yesterday I drank up the remainder
of this abomination, for Valentine’s Day.
This Valentine had to be amorous, since we observe his birthday as a
holiday for lovers. Ah, those saints of ours ... If we were to read
their biographies, we would find out that they weren’t so holy.....
Sometimes such sainthood depended on a bag of gold, or
It is extraordinarily difficult to pray to such, for example; St.
Teofil knowing that his whole life he would walk around in soiled
pants, in those times Catholics bathed only once a year, on Easter
Feb 14 17:32:13 2008 UTC - 14 7.77 S - 98 24.46 W
For many days
now I did not change the setting of sails, I only check to see if
something doesn’t fray - this is a foe of long flights.
Yesterday's thoughts gave me the hiccups, I got up in the morning
and right away I started thinking about, what I will do next, what
is my next goal, because I have to find some goal, otherwise that
which is nice in me - will dry up, twist and die.
All that will be left is a balding, drunk ex sailor, who
once sailed somewhere.
Something is nagging at me in my head, presently this is only an
indistinct shape on the horizon, I have to get closer to it, and
then plant it in myself, like a young branch in an old pear-tree ...
If this "young branch” will set roots , I will need a lot of cash,
before anything will come to fruition ..., but we will make do.
I got money for my yacht and my cruise, I will also get money for
"my well" ...
Scientists searching for answers to the question of how life begin
on earth, reached the conclusion that the factor which enabled life
on earth, was ... Life ...
The dream, how microorganism thrown in a friendly environment of
carbon dioxide and nitrogen, begins producing oxygen, and growing,
until it is born filled with life created in itself ...
Each day hundreds of people in Africa, especially children, die from
diseases because, for the lack of choice, they drink dirty like
liquid manure water.
Often they draw brown water from rivers and streams, in which a few
meters higher, lay corpses of animals, thrown out garbage and human
I remember, I once helped Peter to sew a net on deck, we stood then
at kei on Kodiak.
We were fixing the provisional fixes we made during the cruise, some
patches we had to tear and to sew anew...
The net had to be sewn together even, not one mistake could be made,
in places where mistakes were made the net would pull strongly and
the whole repair would be for nothing, it would tear right away.
We were sitting on plastic buckets and fixing the net, like two
spiders their web.
I had this day one of those moods calling in question everything,
and suddenly I was visited by an old forgotten memory.
About twenty years earlier, I visited (with my mother) my
grandmother Zosia (may angels braid her hair) her friend happened to
be visiting at the same time.
My grandmother Zosia’s friend was a nun and even though the church
didn’t agree with telling fortunes, Sister Ann had a genuine gift
and she gladly told fortunes to her friends .. ..
She told my mother, that one son will conduct a normal life and will
be (how she defined it) "near sea" , but the second son will be
known (she used another word, but I don’t want to say it) at sea and
he will be very rich.
I let go of the crayfish and started to laugh like an idiot ...
But when I tried to explain to Peter the reason for my happiness, he
looked at me awhile attentively and then put his finger to his
forehead ... Heheh.
"Known at sea' I already almost am, at least in my Ilawa.
The conclusion is that I will be rich... Heheeh.
We will dig in Africa a deep well, and this well will never dry and
there will in it a multitude of healthy and sweet water ... Amen.
Feb 13 17:35:09 2008 UTC - 15 35.13 S - 97 43.51 W
sailing quietly, I made the roller of genoa safe with cable and I
attached it to the fore basket, now we can slacken the cable
revolving roller, and it will not fray. On wave, even the strongly
select genoa works, the cable rolling up the sail moves back and
forth and is slowly rubbing. Likewise with the sheets, in spite of
the fact that genoa is exhibited on boom and select on sheet metal,
they move in blocks, and sometimes they form grooves in the block
and fray themselves.
Everything is being used up, the not used things also ..., some
things even faster if they are not being used ...
I opened a warehouse on beak not long ago, a little water got there
at Horn, new cables stored up in there started getting old, and new,
reserve anchor started to rust. So sooner or later all will "turn to
Yesterday after dinner I took a nap on the sofa and very distinctly
I heard a voice say- "soon you will die" .
I woke up with this "frog" in my mouth and I thought fuck it, this
moment is as good as any other, maybe even better, because now I am
almost happy ...
In certain cultures, Roman and even in a tribe "black Jews" from
Some people, of so-called success, interrupt their
life, when it becomes obvious that they won’t move any further "up
this ladder" , they want nothing else besides what they already
have, and from now on they would start to go “down” ..
I heard such stories from my neighbor, I met him at a holiday rental
in Florida. He came from just such tribe of "white blacks" , he was
a perfectly well-educated ex banker disagreeing with the changing
government in Rwanda.
He looked like a delicately built European, he had a narrow, slender
nose and the face features of a black Polish Hebrew. He told me
about his grandfather, who owned great herds of cattle, had many
wives and children.
One day he organized a fiesta for the entire tribe, made a speech,
then went to the forest and hung himself ... Heheh.
The Romans settled this more elegantly, but this is a thing of taste
I wonder what this voice really wanted, when whispering this
meanness to my ear ...
I am not on any top, I have a new great plan, better than sailing
the world, and a multitude of unfulfilled desires, so in this
moment, this voice can’t count on any cooperation from my side ...
I analyzed the situation, and relative to circumstances, I do not
see any danger.
At night we have a vivid positional light, and the likelihood that
we will be run over by some giant in this emptiness, is such as a
blind dog has "for romance" in a strange little village ... Heheh.
We are far from shore, so perhaps I will not have to murder any
pirates here, and Luka, taking into consideration that this is a
sailing yacht, is in altogether good condition ...
With our wonderings I came to only one sensible conclusion, this had
to have been some "ghost fucker" and it tried to scare me.
Go away in the direction of the light ... Hehe. Amen.
Feb 12 15:58:23 2008 UTC - 17 15.29 S - 96 54.09 W
Trade wind at
night turned off a little and today we have half, this is a favorite
course for Luka, autopilot hums sparsely and lazily, this means that
it’s comfortable ...
We have many canned tuna, especially those in water, I don’t really
like that one, but it’s edible when prepared with rice.
Yesterday I mixed one can with dried potatoes, I added a little
dried eggs, some dried spices and made chops.
Chops looked a little like potato pancakes and dead fish. Wacek was
smelling them long and suspiciously, in the end he took his portion
somewhere on deck, he probably buried it in staysail ...
He behaved like a dog of a gardener...
In the end the chops will end up overboard anyway, or they will dry
like a stone, or the rain will fall and they will spoil.
Once the chop with dried potatoes was a tuna fish, it hunted on
flying fishes and any other creatures that fit in its mouth.
Then one day it made a mistake and swallowed an imitational shrimp
with a great hook.
A fisherman lazily standing on its smack, observed 10 "fishing-rods"
stretched on deck, he saw the caught tuna, turned on the hydraulic
spinning-wheel, took the tuna fish from water, with a quick motion
took the bait from its mouth and threw him to the gutter on which
like on a slide the fish went to the storage salted to the limits of
satiation, cooled to -15C which efficiently and quickly freezes even
the greatest tuna ...
Then in the processing plant a stinging knife made from him shapely
fillets, and shapeless bits of leftover meat were boiled and put in
cans. Now in the form of chops with dried potatoes, after the
adventure with Wacek on deck, it will be eaten by little fishes
which sooner or later, because such is their doom, will find their
way into the abdomen of some tuna.
And when I open up a new can of tuna, the whole game will begin
You can begin a story of a circle everywhere ...
Feb 11 15:59:01 2008 UTC - 18 50.35 S - 96 0.59 W
morning something stinks here. Wacek was walking all over me at
night, I put him in the wheelhouse, but it looks like he “marked”
this affair and put a mine somewhere.
I can’t find it although in the neighborhood of the navigational
table there is the discreet smell of shit.
If he went on deck, and then some wave rinsed it away, then what
stinks here and now?
Good and evil are relative terms but this does not mean that in our
private world such a shit does not have its genuine smell. Through
our life there are always “little animals” passing through.
Some may please us and we name them good, others - bad and stinking,
with time they become mutual, and we can’t differentiate ...
However, when you look at them closely, such “mine” for example, it
may turn out that even though here and now it stinks and bothers us,
in another place and in another time someone might fall in love with
For a dung beetle...Wacek’s mine would seem like acres of
strawberries, a bucket of mushrooms or a beautiful rose might spring
from it, if only it found itself in corresponding place and in
Feb 10 16:59:55 2008 UTC - 20 21.18 S - 95 6.57 W
Today we will reach 20 degree S, which marks for us the official
entrance into the zone of trade winds.
We sail on ¾ genoa exhibited with boom.
We can’t sail anymore on butterfly.
In the night nothing happened, but I slept restlessly, I sometimes
woke every 20 minutes, I would light up the deck and check if the
provocatively exhibited genoa is still there.
I was wondering this morning, how differently this cruise would
look, if I didn’t have any books on deck.
We have a few thousand books on discs and more than 700 in MP3,
until recently I sat like a guest on a comfortable arm-chair in the
steering room, I would observe the environment mechanically and
listen to the recorded books.
When one ended, with excitement I searched for another, suitable to
my mood. Sometimes I worked on some from text to MP3 and those times
the sweet voice of Agata from the reading program Expressivo would
read them to me.
Agata read uncritically, with an inherent grace.
One day I decided on a game and I ordered her to read some spicy
bits written by me...
She recited them for me with her charming voice, without a stutter
Not long ago I broke the last player and from necessity I returned
to paper books.
At the same time I realized that it’s time for glasses, perhaps I’m
getting older “my belly rises, skin becomes pale, my front teeth are
If not for the books, I would indeed have to sit here, like in the
built with my own hands jail.
Thanks to the books, most of each day I spend “outside the yacht”,
or at least the most important part of me, roams freely all over the
world. You don’t need any secret knowledge, or inherent talents, in
order to travel outside your own body, an interesting book will
suffice and a little concentration.
Thanks to those books I kept a balance between loneliness on the
Ocean, isolation and the world which was left behind the stern, and
which now again approaches ...
Every day I enter somebody's world, I roamed with Michael Baigent
and his pals, trailing the Holy Grail, with Kmicic we put a greatest
support under the walls of Czestochowa, and I picked apart the world
with Ken Wilber , and then we put it back together.
Who knows, if not for my books, maybe after standing on anchor in
Ensenada, instead of to the dentist, Beata would refer me first to a
Feb 09 15:29:43 2008 UTC - 21 58.33 S - 93 55.01 W
Yesterday Philip ate Today it blows like yesterday, tomorrow it will
blow like today, trade winds...
It would seem that you can build something on this stability, but
this is only a delusion...
Once in a while a hurricane appears in this nautical paradise, and
levels all like a big road roller.
Actually the attempts to construct something stable in life is an
illusion, a wasted energy, unless we build it for the adventure of
All is under incessant changes and the only thing worth investing in
is ourselves, our dreams.
Someone wise once said that you should treat life like a ready to
Each man is the author and the cause of his own ‘upward flights and
collapses”, and the key to what we will experience tomorrow, is what
we feel and think today and what decisions we make.
Optimist and pessimist both will someday die, but how differently
they experience life...
Feb 08 16:13:13 2008 UTC - 23 17.01 S - 92 48.45 W
Yesterday Philip ate a piece of chicken breast, maybe he will stay
with us a while longer... (?)
We are in trade wind, perhaps it will not let us go until the
equator, and there we count on meeting his northern brother, and
hope that we can make do without the 'throwing out of horses" .
We could now go considerably faster, but autopilot would then work
“on the whole whistle”, and this is our only navigator. Navigating a
yacht in which the keel does not run through the whole length of the
trunk (full keel) is hard on course with wind.
All trunks with abridged, narrow ballasts on full drive, have a
tendency for ‘poking about”, sailing in a snake.
Omitting the force of the wind, the center of rigging in such
conditions should be as close as possible to the beak, and the
surface of sails inversely proportional to the wave size.
The yelling autopilot pump directed us to such conclusions, and each
time choosing corresponding sails effectively closed its "mouth”.
Manual steering has not worked for a long time and the autopilot is
our only crewmember that under such circumstances can steer Luka.
So we pay careful attention that the autopilot doesn’t overwork
itself and that the sails balance Luka well...
In the end it has to deliver us to Ensenada ...
In our world the speed with which we sail is of a third-grade
Most important is to get there, followed by getting there
comfortably, only then speed is a factor.
Between "comfortably" and "quickly" almost always exists a conflict,
but except for the neighborhood of Mr. Good Hope and Horn,
"comfortably" always won with "quickly" .
We sail under foresail on boom for windward and staysail on
Luka rocks like a duck, but these are the charms of course with the
There is still another bottle of alcohol “a’la Luka”, perhaps it
will be necessary to put on a new brew, but this time we will make
wine, we will add jam ... Hehe.
I remember distilling like a bad dream; I think that a lot of the
alcohol escaped through the not quiet air-tight handle in the
I wonder if such wine from yeasts has any vitamins, maybe it will
turn out friendly for my tortured by the canned foods
At night something overboard trained deep exhalations, we have a
strong searchlight, but this something perhaps did not want to be
found, it would surface in different places and immediately
Both fishing-rods are in water, maybe today something will happen.
Feb 07 14:50:33 2008 UTC - 24 45.94 S - 91 32.44 W
The wind “manned-up”, let's hope that this is already trade wind ...
Beata cries, I am sad, our Philip is dying.
It was he who was supposed to go with me on this cruise, but he got
old in the meantime (8 years), and stayed home...
He has cancer, he lost 15 pounds, won’t eat anything, the
veterinarian can’t do anything...
He doesn’t suffer and may it stay that way, only gets weaker, I wish
him a peaceful way to dog-heaven...
Feb 06 16:20:35 2008 UTC - 25 50.06 S - 90 46.69 W
night we budged from place. We have feeble, but stable wind from the
south east; I wish it would stay with us and change into trade wind.
Tomorrow it should blow a little stronger, we will sail faster, and
maybe we can catch fresh fish. I will not dry fish anymore; it’s
actually not edible later... We have vinegar on deck, so we will
marinade. In what proportions should I mix vinegar with water? Is it
necessary to boil water with vinegar? And what to add salt, sugar?
I finally with exhaustion finished the book by Paulo Coelho
„Pilgrim” and I have heartburn...
'You will know the tree for its fruit” ...
Fruit from this particular tree look nice from a distance, when you
look at them closely however they loose their color and eating them
is out of the question.
Mr. Coelho unceremoniously wove bits from Carlos Castaneda books
into Roman Catholic traditions, lay this pate on an old route of
pilgrimages and covered the whole with his own thoughts which in
general are naive and in many places create an irritating
combinations of truth and the hallucinations of a schizophrenic.
The book in such form maybe would have been acceptable if it warned
the reader that except for the historic background the remainder is
fruit of the imagination of Mr. Coelho.
Our author speaks with his own demon every day – if this not
literary fiction, then it’s schizophrenia. For some reason he did
not like the image of the unconditional love, which Jesus showed us,
and divided it to bits. One bit is supposed to feed us, another may
be our foe, and the third probably aids digestion...
And this „Good War”, in the world of Mr. Coelho, good even after
Half-truth is a calculated lie ...
For example writing about the Templars - „Templars with lightning
speed gathered inestimable wealth, and this estate often was used
for paying of ransom, for the freedom of wealthy Christians
apprehended by Muslims ” . – He’s trying to convince readers that
they were angels in armors.
The only truth here is the word “wealthy”.
Those interested will easily learn in the history of the order that
the Templars first instituted the system of bills and traveler's
checks, and in order for such a „noble” ransom to come to fruition,
the family of the kidnapped first had to pay a suitable sum in the
nearest convent, and present a coded bill.
Nobody was ransomed without an interest, not even their own knights.
Templars gathered wealth very fast, but nothing was spent.
Such jumble of truth and nonsense is hideous - one can neither
accept it nor reject it...
Feb 05 13:32:35 2008 UTC - 26 16.56 S - 90 23.25 W
Silence, we stand in place.
Yesterday I spent half of the day under water, but with bleak
results. I pressed in a slit around the roller a bit of rubber from
an old rived-bed, but this rived-bed was from „another fairy-tale”,
the rubber turned out to be too bulky. I tried to polish it, but the
extractions were too deep and it would fall apart before I could get
it to adequate dimension. I did manage to force a narrow belt in, I
cut the remainder. The roller does not clatter, but it also doesn’t
guarantee this for more than 5 min.
Water is smooth like glass, Wacek raised alarm, a thornback with two
pilots on back swam up , I could swear that it was looking at us…
Feb 04 14:01:35 2008 UTC - 26 17.02 S - 90 26.76 W
Silence. Silence, we stand in place.
The old rule "in life nothing should surprise you. . .” proves true.
I entered the water yesterday and it turned out that the part of
rived-bed supporting the roller disappeared. The Zinc protecting the
roller before electrolysis, a little affected with corrosion, was
right at rived-bed, so the rubber funnel did not advance in this
direction, rather the turning roller probably moved it to the inside
of the tunnel.
It’s difficult for me to accept this new situation...
After problems with the radiator, injection pump, broken valves, and
transmission it seemed that we had a "truce" in the engine room and
would enter the port in Ensenada on our own...
But in this situation using the engine is out of the question, the
roller would immediately twist (if it’s not twisted already), next
it would break the tunnel outlet, and then the screw would probably
cut a hole in the bottom. Yesterday I made a mess in the engine room
searching for something I could use to stick in the funnels around
It would be nice to know that we could use the engine if only for a
short period of time, if only for a few minutes this, in order to
move us a little.
In this moment anyone could hit us, we rock like a cask on a dead
wave. Water is warm, yesterday I cleaned the bottom, it went faster
than before, however we are overgrown again.
This little compressor is super, it enables diving to 20 m (with my
lung capacity probably 10m), it weighs 2 kg, you can’t dive with it
professionally but for works on the yacht it is enough ..)
Feb 03 14:26:21 2008 UTC - 26 19.65 S - 90 25.42 W
Silence. Yesterday it blew a little, but in the evening it died.
We have 2 L of alcohol, but it was a nightmare.
I stood all day at the hot stove with a wet towel in hand, it burned
Experiment with the big pot did not work out; I was not able to
tighten the lid enough.
So, we used the pressure cooker, but it turned out that American
pressure cookers have three safety valves, probably to prevent
litigation, if such a little steam grenade exploded ...
In place of one I put an ending to which I attached a rubber hose, I
tightened the second. One safety valve will suffice.
In spite of this somewhere near the handle it was leaking slightly,
but this was enough in for the pot to catch fire three times ... I
filled the pressure cooker six times and six times the mash had to
almost boil. I will never again distill on yacht, this is dangerous
and moreover I pumped out an entire container of gas. Before I
started distilling, I tasted the mash and it turned out that it was
very tolerable; if I added jam earlier it would have been still
better. In the evening I was cooling off on deck, tired of the
torrid heat of kitchen, with a glass of tomato juice and a glass of
something so horrible that the smell alone could cause marine
Wacek raised alarm - on the horizon appeared a naval craft, it
turned out that this is a ship transporting yachts, I saw it in
Ensenada. It has characteristic, unnaturally high sides, it is
excavated in center and it has an opened stern.
In port it dips like a dry dock, the yachts move onto it, even the
great ones, and then it rises to the surface, together with
“passengers”. This is a convenient manner of traveling for people
who want to sail for exp; the Mediterranean Sea, but they don’t
want, or can’t sail there, if of course they can afford it.
Transport of a 17m yacht from Mexico to some port in the
Mediterranean Sea costs about $70,000.
Later I was loading the batteries, I turned on our athlete engine,
we were moving slowly, deasles don’t like to work without a load...
Batteries were almost loaded, suddenly something started making
noise. I thought that this was something in the engine, but before I
ran to the engine room, I realized that the racket was caused by a
roller, propeller screw. I turned off the engine, it became
pleasantly quiet, I poured more of this abomination, and sitting on
deck I thought about this clatter...
Tomorrow we will enter the water and look at the screw.
The possibilities are following;
- the screws buffeting and controlling the screw loosened (very
- a piece of screw broke off, but I do not remember the bump (little
- zinc protection which I put on the roller still on the Atlantic
ocean fell off and the rubber part of the rived-bed supporting the
roller at the outlet of the tunnel this time came out completely
(possible, but I would be surprised)
- we caught some cable in the screw and it wrapped itself on the
(please ... This problem would be easy to get rid of)
I will drink up my coffee and dive into the water, I hope that there
isn’t some great, famished fish with three rows of stinging teeth in
Feb 02 13:16:31 2008 UTC - 27 2.23 S - 89 54.39 W
Silence on the sea, maybe today we will jump into the water, we will
scrape a little, again we are overgrown on water line. After midday
it should blow a little...
Distiller is almost ready; I used a large pot for boiling crabs,
Pressure cooker seemed too little; we have almost 25 L of mash to
heat up. I bore a little hole in the lid, I put ending to the hose,
on the lid edge I stuck a gasket. We will use 3 pairs of grip-tongs
and a few little clamps to tighten the lid; it must be air-tight...
Feb 01 14:43:51 2008 UTC - 27 16.07 S - 89 37.63 W
Silence, however, we’re moving slowly, autopilot answers sometimes
with brief humming of the pump. Sun since morning, again it’s like
It looks like all the yeasts died. Based on what I know from
instructions of the home distiller, which I got many, the yeasts had
to die from excess of alcohol. The second day after mixing of mash,
I tightened the distiller, I put in a tube with a bit of water in
knee, and then for a few days everything gurgled beautifully. But
the last two days the gurgling in the tube slowed, yesterday I
suspected the cork was not tight, so for certainty I stuck it with
dough, but this changed nothing.
I blew solidly in the tube, suspecting that it is stuck, and then it
gurgled for a moment, but this was only pressure leveling, after my
blow. A moment ago I unscrewed the cork, the mash smells like bad
Today we will prepare the yacht distillatory set and tomorrow we
will heat up...