Title Page: Global Voyage

In the early 80's Jenny and I spent three years aboard our ketch Suka, Sailing Around the World. This was an amazing trip and our favorite one of all. After the voyage I wrote a book, and now I have decided to publish it here, on our website.

World Map and Suka's Track

Please Note that Global Voyage is not open source. The book is owned by me, and I'm retaining all rights. I have placed it on my web page for all to read, but I'm asking that people do not copy any part of it to other websites or for other uses.

Ray and Jenny's

Global Voyage

A Book About

Sailing Around the World

Copyright (C) 2014, Ray and Jenny Jardine

Adventurelore Press

ISBN 978-0-9632359-1-6

774 photos

Three Years, 35,000 miles

Nov 1982 - Jan 1986

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, or by information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

If you have read Global Voyage, we would enjoy hearing from you. Please Send Us Your Questions or Comments.

"The Global Voyage book kept me spellbound and bleary eyed. I was along for the ride with the crew as new found friends. I especially liked how you dealt with "the comfort zone" that everyone has to deal with on a long adventure. Thanks for sharing." - Paul L.

"I've been reading your online book "Global Voyage" in between the pages of my calculus homework (sound familiar) and its great after all these years to get the full story. I can only imagine the excitement of setting sail out of San Diego!!! How fantastic!!! And the extra photos are awesome! It's very kind of you to publish such a book free but I'm sure the sailing community would be more than happy to purchase a hard copy. Just lookin' out for ya! Anyhow, thanks again for sharing this very special adventure of yours. Hope your having a wonderful spring!" - James Gibling

"Your book Global Voyage is wonderful. I feel like I'm right there with you on your incredible voyage. Ray you should publish it, it's amazing to read what it took to even get ready for such a daunting adventure. I really admire the two of you....you lived your lifelong dream. You won't ever look back with regrets because you've sucked life dry!! Kudos to you both. I am in awe!" -Jeanne S.

"Global Voyage is excellent! Your writing has a natural flow about it that really brings the experience to life! Thank You! - Fred E.

"Just finished reading the Global Voyage. I enjoyed it immensely! Thanks for sharing with us!" Peter H.

"Totally enjoyed your book Global Voyage about you and Jenny and the Suka. Well worth the read." Karl G.

"Thank you both for publishing your Global Voyage book. Thank you for all your years of inspiration and encouragement." Michael W.

"I just caught up to your latest posting for the global voyage! Very sweet adventure, you set a high bar for those who think they live an 'active and adventure' filled life." Erik L.

"A great voyage chronicle. Interesting from beginning to end." -John R.

"I just finished reading your story of sailing around the world. What an amazing adventure! Thank you for sharing. I also just finished sewing my first Ray-Way quilt. I am excited to try it out this season." -Dylan G.

"Hi Ray and Jenny, I really enjoyed your Global Voyage story and appreciate all the photos. Thank you." -Charles P.

Table of Contents

Preface

Prologue

Work Done

Chapter 1: The Voyage To Fatu Hiva

Nov 2, 1982: Jenny and I depart San Diego.


Sail 3,000 miles in 29 days to the Marquesas Islands.

Chapter 2: Marquesas Magnifique

Two months exploring the Marquesas.

Chapter 3: Tahiti And The Societies

Three months Tahiti & Moorea, and a month in the Leewards.

Chapter 4: Rarotonga

6 days sailing to Rarotonga, 12 days there.

Chapter 5: The Kingdom Of Tonga

11 days sailing to Vava'u, Tonga, 35 days there.

Chapter 6: The Fiji Islands

Five days to Fiji, 23 days there.

Chapter 7: Vanuatu

5 days to Aneityum, 4 days there.

Chapter 8: New Caledonia

4 days sailing to Noumea, 14 days there.

Chapter 9: Bundaberg

9 days sailing to Bundaburg, Australia, 6 months waiting out cyclone season. Buy motorcycle and tour inland, take flying lessons, and fly sailplanes. Rebuild SUKA's engine.

Chapter 10: The Great Barrier Reef

Two months sailing north inside Great Barrier Reef, anchoring each night.

Chapter 11: Darwin

9 days sailing to Darwin and 17 days there.

Chapter 12: Christmas Island

15 days to Christmas Island and 6 days there.

Chapter 13: Cocos Keeling

5 days to Cocos Keeling, our favorite tropical island, and 21 days there.

Chapter 14: The Mascarenes

16 days to Rodriguez, 7 days there. 4 days sailing to Mauritius, 10 days there. 2 days to Reunion Island, 10 days there - spent mostly hiking the remote interior.

Chapter 15: South Africa

19 days sailing to Richard's Bay, South Africa, and 28 days there. Several trips inland, including 5 days at fabulous Kruger National Game Park. Three months in South Africa altogether, hopping port to port making way around the infamous Cape of Storms.

Chapter 16: The Southern Atlantic

14 days sailing across Southern Atlantic to St. Helena, 6 days there. 18 days sailing to Fortaleza, Brazil, 4 days there.

Chapter 17: Bonaire

16 days sailing north along coast of South America and into Caribbean, to Bonaire. Six months in Bonaire, waiting out hurricane season, snorkeling and scuba diving.

Chapter 18: Panama

8 days sailing to Panama, 22 days there including touring the country by car and transiting Panama Canal.

Chapter 19: Costa Rica

6 days sailing to Costa Rica, 25 days there.

Chapter 20: Mexico

40 days sailing along coast of Central America, stopping at various ports of call.

Chapter 21: Back Home

Sail back into San Diego harbor December 24, 1985, completing our round the world voyage.

In Retrospect

Dedication

Dedicated to

Maurice and Katie Cloughley

Illuminating Voyaging's Allure,
They Sparked the Ready Tinder

Cloughley's Book: "A World to the West: A Voyage Around the World" by Maurice R. Cloughley

Preface

November 2, 1982, Jenny and I cast off our ketch's mooring lines from the San Diego customs dock, and embarked upon a 'round the world voyage. At the time we were almost wholly lacking in sailing experience; but we had done our homework, and were eager pupils. The seas and storms proved able schoolmasters; our boat proved seaworthy; and we persisted. And so it was that three years later we sailed back into the San Diego harbor and made fast to that same dock. With some 32,000 miles now chronicled on Suka's trip-log we were greenhorns no longer. Stepping ashore, we consummated a lifelong goal: we had, indeed, sailed around the world.

Although our circumnavigation was nothing prodigious in the mainstream of human events, on the personal level it had enriched our lives ineffably. How true that an extended and rugged adventure can profoundly revitalize a person.

Of course, a writer would be foolish to suggest that long distance yacht cruising is safe, untroubled, or easy. The hazards of voyaging are genuine. But in the vast majority of instances they are not insuperable. However, seafaring generally requires resourcefulness, a quality that does not follow naturally from living in the city. At sea, one does not thumb through the yellow pages seeking help.

In the end, then, this book merely attempts to affirm that an urban nine-to-fiver can indeed break away from the typically self-exploited existence of the commercial world, and venture into the far-flung Wilds in search of personal enrichment. For those who might be hearing the distant siren's song, the call of the wanderlust, be assured that a bounty of adventure lies waiting, beyond the far horizon.

Prologue

During my youth, several times each summer my Dad would be away, plodding beneath a ponderous backpack while scaling some rugged and interminable trail leading into the high Rockies. His objective: angling in Colorado's inaccessible, alpine lakes. And almost invariably my brothers and I would be found following close behind, toting little knapsacks of our own. Consequently, my youth was blessed with backpacking and camping adventures galore, and they imbued me deeply with a love of the outdoors.

As a young man, one of my favorite pastimes was reading adventure books, including those of sailing the high seas. Emulating those hearty souls, vicariously, I envisioned that one day I, too, would undertake an around-the-world quest. But because we lived nearly mid-continent, my seafaring had to take place solely between the covers of those books.

In 1967 I graduated from university with a degree in Astronautical and Aeronautical Engineering. Then for three-and-a-half years I worked as a Systems Analyst for a major aerospace firm, while specializing in computer-simulated space flight. During the off hours I could usually be found with a rope tied about the waist, scaling some rocky height. With the passing of time the engineering profession and its confining office cubical began to seem less inspiriting, and the climbing proportionally more so. Eventually I exercised a leave of absence and joined a mountain climbing expedition to the Peruvian Andes. The spirit of the Great Unexplored prevailed, and a month later I returned to the aerospace firm no longer an engineer at heart, but an adventurer.

Quitting the sedentary profession, I began rock climbing full time. As a means of replenishing my coffers I taught happily for Outward Bound for seven summers. Between those summers, and between the intervening spring and autumn rock-climbing seasons in Yosemite, I made winter pilgrimages to the warmer climes of Mexico. There, with various companions I undertook a total of eight sea-kayaking expeditions, paddling typically hundreds of miles per excursion while plying the Baja shoreline fronting the semi-protected waters of the Sea of Cortez. These ocean forays provided an opulent introduction to the ways of seafaring, and one well saturated, (sometimes literally), with the occasional hardships and with the abundant vivacities of maritime roving.

With rock climbing interests and a mathematics and computer programming background, I had invented a climbing safety device I called "the Friend." This later formed the basis for a mountain climbing equipment-manufacturing company called Wild Country, based in England. The product found wide acceptance, and for several years I owned and managed its US distribution.

One evening while relaxing in my Southern Californian apartment an event occurred that instigated an important pivot in my life's story. I was reading Maurice and Katy Cloughley's "A World to the West," a lustrous account of their sailing circumnavigation. At one point Maurice wrote that after a particularly grisly passage between landfalls, he and Katie sailed their ketch into some tranquil lagoon - out there in never never land it seemed - and anchored in its crystal, warm waters. "How good it was to be in," he wrote, "we felt fabulous."

My back-burner dreams of emulating such wayfaring ignited, and the words "we felt fabulous" evoked long-overdue introspection. At the time, my feelings were not quite so ebullient. As an example, while seated in my flashy new sports car, waiting interminably for a traffic light to change at some frenzied intersection, like a hostage I listened to the high-tech stereo blaring interminable advertisements in quadraphonic sound. Despite the air-conditioned comfort, "I felt frustrated," would have been about all that I could have reported. The comparison between the vivacious lifestyle I was reading about, and the lackluster one I was living began urging me out of my prosaic rut. Even though my business was bristling, the unbounded struggle for financial success and security, I had to admit, was not fulfilling any deeper needs.

What would it be like, I pondered dreamily, to leave it all behind and to sail away into the setting sun? Of course, such dreaming was but a chimera, considering my personal exigencies that barred the way. My business, for one, was important; and considering its profitability, turning my back on it would have been an irrefutable act of idiocy.

Each person navigates through life according to his or her deepest priorities, and mine had begun shifting once again. The call of the Wild was beckoning ever louder. And despite any financial success and its attendant luxuries (and potential ulcers), the coming years threatened to slip past not fully lived. Not to belabor the hackneyed truth, but life is too short. Rather than allow the years to slip past not lived, I owed it to myself to slam my fist onto the proverbial table and to set a goal or two - to pursue something that could make me feel fabulous.

I decided to buy a boat and sail it around the world.

Beginnings

Having decided to circumnavigate, I began visiting the libraries to study the cruising yacht and the qualities that make for its seaworthiness. And frequenting the waterfronts in search of a suitable craft. In the following months I perused the marinas all along coastal southern California. After inspecting sailboats by the hundreds I managed to locate a few prospects, but none that aroused any real ardor.

One morning I stood wistfully admiring a CT-41 that an acquaintance had told me was for sale. This vessel was splendid in every respect, and would have fulfilled my every requirement - especially as her designer was the noted naval architect William Garden. Being forty-one feet on deck, though, she was considerably beyond my budget.

Suka is a CT-41 ketch with center cockpit, built by the Taiwanese company Ta Chiao. The boat was four years old when I discovered it.

A fellow I vaguely knew happened along, noticed my interest and stopped to talk. He related that he had nearly bought this vessel, but that a last minute dispute with the owner had stifled the deal. Perhaps unwittingly he mentioned the price they had come close to agreeing on. Remarkably, it was almost within my means! Astounded though I was, I managed to conceal my sudden interest, particularly as the gentleman could have been weaving an artifice. This did not seem the case, though, as I knew of his business reputation within the community, and that it was sound.

Not long after this enlightening conversation I sneaked aboard and searched the vacant yacht stem to stern. I found only a single shred of evidence: a first initial and last name penciled on a coat hanger, apparently by an employee of a dry-cleaning laundry. Visiting with a skipper aboard a nearby yacht, and casually dropping this last name, I learned that this was indeed the ketch's owner, and also in what city he lived. Then from a phone booth I dialed directory assistance, and obtained the fellow's telephone number.

Harry proved not only personable but also apparently eager to strike some kind of a deal. And because I went to the negotiating table with what was probably his lowest selling price, within a few days we had agreed on terms beneficial to us both. And what's more, after we had met in person I persuaded him to finance the sale. (And in the next few months I was able to pay off his loan by liquidating my accumulated business inventory.)

As the ketch's new owner I fairly bristled with excitement and naturally began relating my plans of sailing-around-the-world to my parents, friends, and to my new neighbors at the marina. Without a single exception I was treated as though suffering some kind of grand delusion. The skepticism was so absolute, in fact, that it prompted me to keep my plans to myself from then on. And rightly so, for admittedly I had very little sailing experience, and although my sailboat had been built for the rigors of the sea, she was wholly unequipped - save for a full complement of frazzled dock lines.

Harry had recently completed an expensive exterior refurbishing, but in the four years since the vessel's construction he had rarely taken her from her berthing. So as new owner I began fitting the boat with a long list of gear needed to sustain long distance voyaging, and rebuilding whatever structural components seemed even remotely prone to failure. (The following page gives a list of my work over the next two years, getting ready for departure.)

My spouse of the past two years had been interested in my global sailing plans, but then one day she confided from the heart that she no longer wanted to go. I found this devastating. But then again, our relationship was becoming less than mutually beneficial with the passing of months. So, although it might seem callous on my part, I was not willing to abandon my plans for adventure on her behalf. After agonizing the matter for a few weeks and months, I decided that rather than try to change her mind - only to have her change it back at the first landfall - I would go alone. Even so, I had no departure date in mind, but only loose plans to set sail in a year or two. Meanwhile I continued making the ketch cruise-ready while generally carrying on with life.

One day I placed a newspaper want-ad; and after interviewing a dozen applicants I hired a secretary/shipping clerk to help with my increasing business's load. Jenny's proficiency soon afforded the boss more frequent opportunities to slip away from the office, and to work on some pressing project aboard ship. And in a few months she began spending the random sunny afternoon at the marina, dabbing at the yacht's brightwork, varnishing the wood trim. Being around boats was a novel experience for her, and one she seemed to enjoy. And with the passing of time she became interested in my sailing plans. So much so, that she eventually she tendered the suggestion that we join forces. After some deliberation, the notion was heartily adopted.

My ship gained a first mate on a full-time basis; I had to place another want-ad for a new secretary (Jenny was now occupied with boat-related projects); and my erstwhile spouse filed for a divorce.

Jenny and I hopped on a plane for Britain, where at a routine meeting with the principles of Wild Country, my parent company, Steve informed me that he had re-assigned my American distributorship to another firm of better underpinnings. With the company's best interests in mind, he had revoked my WC US distributorship.

Meandering the cobbled streets of merry old England in confusion born of shock, I could hardly imagine, let alone accept the fact that I had lost my hard-won business. This was especially irksome because my distributorship had been marketing "Friends," a product of my own invention and patenting. The urge was strong to rebound with a significant design improvement. However, standing back for a broader perspective of my journey though life, I began to see this unexpected turn of events as more of a golden opportunity - of a very different sort.

Returning to our rental cottage, I informed Jenny that I had some bad news and maybe some good news. Incredibly, I had just lost the business. Therefore, I suggested that we return to California and begin preparations for the autumnal cruising season, seven months hence. She agreed.

The doorways to the far horizon now lay wide open.

Back in the U.S. we set to work getting the boat trip-ready - amassing and warehousing various items of gear, taking measurements and penciling dimensions, and making patterns. In the office's back-room we built various items to mount to the ketch. We fitted a life raft canister to the boat's after coach-roof, and a handmade double-tank propane housing to the cabin top. We screwed a separate, storm trysail track onto the mast; mounted an inner forestay, running backstays, and mast steps; and bolted a self-steering wind vane onto the stern.

Jenny writes:

Before retirement, my parents were school teachers. Each summer Dad would pack the car with camping gear, and Mom would prepare the food, and our family of seven would drive to the Sierra for two or three weeks of camping and backpacking. We were a mountain-loving family; seldom did we visit the coast, even though it was only an hour's drive from our home in California. As a teenager, one sea-sick fishing excursion outside the protected harbor convinced me to stay ashore.

I earned a college degree, and went on to attend more classes. During a break in my studies I searched for a job, in order to replenish my dwindling savings. One day I drove to Shelter Island to attend yet another interview. Providence seemed to have a hand in this one, for although I was late for the interview, I was hired.

My boss, Ray, was easy-going. My duties as company secretary and shipping clerk were not difficult, and the job was enjoyable. Once, for bonus pay I typed some of Ray's Sea kayaking journals, and I was impressed by his accomplishments. As the months passed I noticed that his business was secondary to his sailboat. His enthusiasm and dedicated work on his boat intrigued me, and I began to spend an afternoon once or twice a week working aboard. Not once in my 24 years had I dreamed of setting out to sea, but the marina was a novel and fascinating realm, and I began to see the boat more as a means to travel and to see the world.

Ray intended going on his circumnavigation alone, but now I wanted to go. Gathering my nerve, I asked if I could go with him. He said yes! I guess I proposed to him. And this was the beginning of our outdoor adventures together.

Aug 82, Sail to Coronado Is.

A few photos leading up to my story:

My most regrettable part of leaving home: I had to sell my Mexican Redhead (aka: Green Cheeked Amazon Parrot). She had lived with me on the boat for those two years. She was such a sweet bird and a great friend.

Jenny's and my first date: a 6-day trip to Cayman Islands for scuba diving. Photo of Jenny by Ray 1982.

Our second date: a trip to the U.K. on business (I thought) and a side trip to the Alps - 41 days total.

Old mill stones.

Ray climbing at Millstone, U.K., photo by Jenny 1982.

At the WC factory, extrusions for making climbing hardware.

Chamonix, Photo of Jenny by Ray 1982.

Aquille du Midi, photo of Jenny by Ray 1982.

Boat Improvements

Boat Improvements Prior to Departure (1981 - 1982)

Back at my office desk, I no longer had a business so I'm concentrating on learning celestial navigation.

Suka's cabin.

A crew is helping us haul the boat out of the water so we can clean and paint the hull.

Pumping the bilge (floorboards removed) prior to removing the tanks.

Getting down and dirty on the cabin floor. While hauled out, I drained and removed the fuel and water tanks so that Jenny could help scrub the bilge. I joked that she made a good bilge rat. (The bilge was filthy due to the previous resident, and when Jenny gladly got down there and starting cleaning, that was the first time (of a great many) I realized she was a keeper.

Working on the rudder.

Painting the hull below the waterline with antifouling to retard the accumulation marine growth.

Self-designed bowsprit cranse iron, fabricated locally. I had to install it during the haul-out, because I had to slacken the forestay and bobstay. Next I will install a second bobstay (attach to the empty hole) to reinforce the main one.

I hired a pro to help install the self-steering vane, because I was unfamiliar with how it worked and didn't want to make a mistake on installing so critical a part.

Jenny painting a box I made to house the propane tanks. We will mount the box on the coachroof aft of the skylight, to hold two 5-pound horizontal-fill bottles and a pressure regulator. See it in the photos to follow. Note: I made this box without screws, but used dowels instead.

Work done by myself (except for the welding and a little help installing the self-steering vane.) I did most of this work in the two years before Jenny came into my life.

Engine and ancillaries:

• Remove existing fuel system, and discard black-iron fuel tanks.
• Install new SS fuel tanks designed and built locally, 2 x 50 gallons each (100 gallons total).
• Install fuel gauges on the tanks.
• Relocate double Fram fuel filters, and install new fuel lines and fuel pump.
• Mount automatic Halon fire extinguisher overhead in engine compartment.
• Install oil pressure alarm.
• Mount new engine temp gauge to the binnacle.
• Splice in valve to the exhaust pipe, so I can close it during heavy following seas.

Topsides:

• Design and install bowsprit cranse iron, fabricated locally.
• Install bobstay keelson fitting at waterline, ditto the above.
• Install second bobstay to reinforce the main one.
• Make and install custom mast fitting.
• Install new running rigging throughout.
• Add inner forestay, release lever, deck fitting.
• Install staysail stay with heavy duty mounting at deck and mast, and pad-eyes mounted on deck.
• Install running backstays with 4-part block and tackle tensioners, and backstay chainplates on cockpit combing.
• Install wire topping lift for main boom.
• Install storm trysail track mounted on mainmast.
• Mount a pair of Lewmar 44 SS self-tailing winches to cockpit coaming, as primaries secured with heavy-duty custom SS pads.
• Install Jiffy reefing gear for mains'l.
• Make and install a better mast boot (old one leaked).
• Make and install separate track for the storm trysail.
• Re-design gooseneck fitting for main boom.
• Screw pad-eyes for the staysail onto the deck.
• Move mizzen sheeting system to afterdeck pad-eyes.
• Install mainmast steps.
• Install fitting for radar reflector.
• Make and install chocks to hold Avon 4-person life raft.
• Build box to house propane tanks, and mount it on coachroof aft of skylight. Holds two 5-pound horizontal-fill bottles and pressure regulator.
• Design ball-valve propane safety shutoff and mount it through coachroof, so in an emergency the cook could turn off the gas from inside the galley. (The stove had caught fire during a short foray to Catalina Island, and I had no way to shut the gas off, and had to use a fire extinguisher.)
• Remove and dispense with dinghy davits at the stern.
• Install cowl vents in afterdeck.
• Install afterdeck pad-eyes for jacklines and mizzen sheeting.
• Install chocks for expanding whisker pole on coachroof.
• Screw whisker pole padeyes to main mast.
• Mount larger halyard winches on main mast.
• Install Richy Helmsman compass on binnacle.
• Make storm hatchway door to be bolted in place while at sea.
• Remove hydraulic steering pump and take to a shop for a rebuild, and reinstall.
• Mount Autohelm wind vane on transom, with help from a pro.

Ground tackle:

• Remove and dispense with holding tank in order to make room for chain stowage.
• Install starboard hawsepipe in foredeck to accommodate ground tackle.
• Make chainpipe for "midships" stowage, to automatically feed anchor chain from hawsepipe to bilge abaft the mast.

Galley:

• Install three-burner Shipmate propane gimballed stove w/ oven.
• Replace sink faucet.
• Install fresh water hand pump.
• Install salt water foot-pump and connect it to engine's raw water supply, with ball valve shutoff.
• Remove existing salt-water seacock at galley, and glass its thru-hull.

Head:

Main bathroom completely rebuilt.

• Remove old shower sump, and make better fiberglass shower pan.
• Mount hand-pump below wash basins, Whale Mk II sump pump, to pump the sump. Plumb waste pipe to thru-hull fitting.
• Install new shower unit.
• Install shower (fresh water) Jabsco pump beneath starboard settee.
• Install shower switch in head, and wire it to pump.
• Install pair of SS lavatory basins, plumb waste pipe to thru-hull fitting.
• Paper/tile walls of head.
• Remove after-stateroom bathroom and glass its thru-hulls.

Salon:

• Install ball-valves beneath starboard settee to control each of three fresh water tanks.
• Run new water hose throughout the boat.
• Install water filtration system.
• Make and install starboard lee cloth.
• Rebuild salon table, removing top folding leaf, and reshaping the corners for a better fit.
• Build and install many shelves throughout the boat, including stowage compartments beneath the aft berth.
• Cut carpeting to shape of the floor. (Not used while underway.)

Electrics and electronics:

Fuse panel on Stb bulkhead is practically the only piece of original electrical equipment.

• Install Maranetics circuit breaker panel w/ voltmeter and ammeter on port chart-table bulkhead.
• Install Maranetics 110 V load center in walkway.
• Run heavy electrical wire throughout.
• Build fiberglass-clad platform to hold batteries, install in walkway.
• Install batteries: 2 8D, 205 Amp-hr deep cycle in walkway.
• Install battery switch in walkway, with diode isolater and new battery cabling.
• Install battery charger, 110 v. in walkway.
• Install depth sounders, Seafarer 700 and GME Electrodepth with separate transducers mounted through hull.
• Install Signet MK78 dualog.
• Install Signet MK 12 knotmeter and paddle wheel.
• Install VHF Horizon 8615 on the port bulkhead. Run cable through mast to masthead antenna.
• Install cassette-stereo-equalizer/booster, and speakers on the stb bulkhead.
• Install spreader light to each spreader, run wire though mast and into stb beaker panel.
• Install tri-color masthead lights on mast top, run wire though hollow mast and into the breaker panel.
• Screw barometer and thermometer to the salon wall.
• Design and install self-powered bilge alarm.
• Install burglar alarm system, wired at walkway breaker panel.

Bottom: Paint two coats of Proline 1088. Three thru-hulls plugged and glassed. Rudder rebuilt.

New sails: Gennaker, yankee jib, 140% genoa, staysail, storm staysail, and storm trysail.

Equipment:

• Hand bearing compasses (Silva 70UN, and OOMorin "Hockey Puck" w/ tritium gas light).
• Two Davis Mark 25 sextants with beam converger.
• Tamaya NC77 navigational calculator.
• EPRIBs (GME MT244, and Martech Mako).
• Autohelm 2000 autopilot to operate self-steering windvane trim tab.
• RDF.
• Wind powered electrical generator with sailing/trolling adapter.
• Spare alternator, injectors, and impellers.
• Stanchion mounted BBQ.
• Tamaya radar detector.
• Q-beam.
• Avon 4-person life raft.
• Avon Rover 280 dinghy and Johnson 4-horse outboard.
• Fenders.
• Large, custom awning of Sunbrella.
• New 45 lb CQR, 35 lb Hi-Tensile Danforth, 3/8" chain and Nylon anchor rode: 5/8 in, 300 ft and 300 ft of spare anchor rode.
• 24 ft Para-sea anchor (not used).
• Zenith all-band receiver to obtain weather info and accurate clock time.

Added later:

• Galley cupboard.
• S/S pulpit and pushpit rails.
• 80 amp alternator.
• New propeller (17-RH-14).
• Magnavox MX-4100 sat-nav with interface card.
• Sony all-band receiver 7600D.
• Yaesu FT757-GX Ham radio (modified to transmit 500-30,000 KHZ) and FC700 antenna tuner and Dynaplate grounding.
• Alden MK II Weather fax and paper.
• Latches on all cupboards.
• Wagner SE Autopilot, control box, fluxgate compass, and hydraulic pump.
• New mainsail.

Making Ready

Jenny:

November 1st was Ray's and my target date of departure, and the final weeks of October were slipping past all too quickly. In spite of our working full time and checking off several jobs daily, the list of projects only grew.

We carried to the boat carloads of gear we had been storing at the office: boxes of books, charts, clothes, anchors, sails, spare parts, large coils of ropes, cases of tinned food, the inflatable dinghy still in its carton, etc, etc. And as the boat grew heavier with cruising gear, she settled deeper into the water.

Harried, we didn't have time to sail from the dock for shakedowns. Ray could only raise the sails on calm nights, and in this way he fitted blocks and lines necessary for sheeting and reefing the various sails.

Unaware that we intended going cruising so soon, our experienced sailing friends Jim and Deidrie presented us with a gift they had built: a custom teak cupboard, still in pieces. It featured a pair of hand painted acrylic doors, appropriately depicting Ray's sailboat entering the pass of a palm-studded Polynesian atoll, accompanied by dolphins leaping clear of the water. Jim had carefully designed the framework to fit onto the galley bulkhead. Gratefully, I stowed the parts in a safe place, assured that Ray would assemble and install them during our first passage.

During those final hectic days I made countless trips to the chandlers for bolts, pad-eyes, or whatever we needed to complete the project at hand. And between running errands and providing a third and fourth hand on the jobs, I tried to organize the chaos belowdecks. Boxes of provisions stood stacked on the settees, in the galley, under the salon table, and in the aft cabin walkway. These left practically no room for us to move about, so item by item I began filling the lockers. I removed the paper labels from the canned goods, described the contents with indelible ink on the can, and tabulated how many tins of what were where. I packaged dry goods such as flour, sugar, grains, legumes, and even rolls of toilet paper into polyethylene bags, and closed them with a heat-sealer. Also, I drove to an egg ranch and bought fifteen dozen unwashed and unrefrigerated eggs, which I then stacked by the carton-full in the galley's non-refrigerated ice box, which during the entire voyage we used merely as cool storage.

In addition to boat related tasks we attended to many time consuming personal matters. We closed bank accounts, visited a doctor and dentist for check ups, purchased emergency medication, sold our cars, canceled insurance policies, terminated telephone and electric service, rented a storage unit for leave-behind items we wanted to keep, moved out of the office, paid the last of the bills, and so on. Ray even had his impacted wisdom teeth extracted.

Finally our target date arrived. Much work remained, but we could only admit that the perpetual project list would always be in the red. Even so, activity aboard reached a crescendo as we concentrated only on those jobs requiring electricity.

That night we entrusted Jim and Deidrie with the immediacy of our plans, and they came to lend their assistance. Deidrie and I made headway with the contents of the boxes sprawled all across the salon. She packaged groceries into poly bags, which I stowed, filling each locker to the brim. By evening only a few boxes remained under the table and three or four sacks of groceries on the settee, and these I could finish stowing at sea.

Ray telephoned his long-time friend Joe K., and he also came to help. Later that night the five of us took time out to visit a local pizza restaurant. When we had returned to the dock, Jim and Deidrie wished us their envious goodbyes and good lucks. They had cruising plans of their own, and intended to set sail in our wakes the following season.

Joe accompanied us on one last trip to the grocery store, where we bought case loads of fresh goods and perishables to see Ray and I through the next month or two. Where I would store it all, I hadn't a clue.

Now late at night on the date of our intended departure, we were too exhausted to set off. The additional groceries occupied most of the settee space, but we each found a separate place to curl up for the night. Tomorrow morning we would depart.

At the Customs Dock, one day before departure.

Ray:

About to venture into the vast Pacific, we knew we were taking a few chances, but what we could not have known was that we were about to depart into French Polynesia's most devastating cyclone season on record.

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