|
Dalila is calming down...
July 27, 2007 31.3796N,124.9475W
I have moved further southwest near the longitude of 125W as I had hoped. If you have not noticed already, please make sure that you click on ORS MAP on the top right of this page. That tracking page is managed by our partner Ocean Rowing Society in London.
ORS plots my progress daily without my interference, using data from the ARGOS beacon which I carry on board. The beacon provides independent verification of what I accomplish, and also allows for real time tracking in case of an emergency, through its "request assistance" switch. This added feature, in addition to my Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon, commonly known as an EPIRB unit, helps Nancy sleep better at night.
There is another MAP button up there, which plots the locations at which I report a dispatch. That map relies on the GPS coordinates I type with each dispatch.
The good news from our weather partner Dane Clark is that Tropical Storm Dalila encountered cold water before it could develop further. Yesterday it had weakened into a depression centered near 23N 117W and it should continue to wind down moving westward. Dane thinks it should not affect the winds and seas around me.
The cold currents which descend along the California coast, chill the ocean waters off shore from Baja. Tropical storms need heat and moisture to gain strength and to develop into hurricanes. That is why the relatively shallow Caribbean Sea, with its lack of circulation becomes a hot tub by the end of summer, feeding many hurricanes. Cold water here has the opposite effect, which calms the storms down before they can venture farther away from Baja. That is why I had mentioned 125W as a safe distance west of land. I am there now...
I have to be mindful of my crew Mr. Murphy, who at the most inappropriate moment can surprise me. At the end of the day yesterday, I was marking the waypoint as I do at every sunset. I was dry and warm, looking forward to dinner.
A wave approached from the rear, square with my stern. It was one of those two-for-one wind driven waves, where a leading wave is followed by a deep trough, defined by its steep backwall. The backwall leads the second wave, after which the ocean surface returns to normal. And these wave sets move at a fair speed.
The leading wave lifted my stern, then the trough took it down. When the trough's backwall met my flat transom, the result was five buckets worth of cold ocean water splashing straight at me. No where to hide, no place to run, I just watched it happen in slow motion as the water left me drenched.
"Darn, I can't go in like this" was my first thought. I need to keep the cabin as dry as possible, as the days have been overcast almost all the time, with cool nights. Condensation from my breathing is already a problem overnight, and any added moisture would ruin everything over time.
I undressed, tucked the wet layers into my laundry bucket, added some saltwater and ocean suds, and let it soak overnight to be washed in the morning. I changed into dry and fresh clothes before fixing dinner. I felt good. I had turned this unexpected event into a useful opportunity for housekeeping.
The winds are down to about 15-20kt. They are slowly turning more to my north. As I progress further, I should be receiving winds from my northeast. Think of the North Pacific High as a clockwise rotating system, with me riding on its edge. The waves are also more docile and regular now, making for easier rowing.
Erden.
|
Alaskan fishermen wear these liners inside their boots, so do I on cool mornings.
