16 February 2009

Across The Pacific

I'm writing this as we sail along the Pacific coasts of southern Mexico and the countries of Central America on our way to Panama. It's been over sixteen days sailing since we left Nagasaki and I thought a summary of the whole experience would be more interesting than posting all of my daily entries over that time.

My first impression is that the Pacific is huge. I know that sounds a bit simple, but the true scale of the place really becomes evident while sailing all the way across. During the whole passage I only saw three other ships; two car-carriers heading back to Japan and one other ship on its way from Hawaii to Los Angeles. On most days there wasn't any indication of another ship within a hundred miles.

After a day or two of somewhat rougher seas when we left Japan, the weather was extremely pleasant. Earlier in the voyage some of the crew had expressed their concern that we might encounter some heavy weather across the Pacific based on their previous passage; this is fairly common during this time of year. We were able to take advantage of a favorable break between systems that allowed us to sail in almost preternatural calm.

We did encounter some rougher seas for the better part of one day as we passed along the Mexican coast. According to the Captain this is to be expected in this part of the ocean; there is a strong wind that comes from the northeast through this corridor. There was some spectacular spray as the waves hit our port bow and washed over our gangways.

In planning the routes the officers make full use of all the technology available to them and one of these is a commercial weather service that provides recommended routes based on long-range weather forecasts. In our case, they recommended a modified rhumb-line to great circle route that took us farther south than a true great circle route would have. The difference in distance was negligible and the calm seas and clement weather were of great advantage to the crew.

With respect to life on board, the pace of work while at sea is much more regular than in port. In the latter there is always much work to be done in a very short amount of time and operations continue around the clock. In contrast, the workdays at sea impressed me as being much more routine and predictable. The Chief Officer took full advantage of the fine weather in setting out the work schedule for the crew. Under the direction of the ship's Bosun they spent many days in catching up on all the required maintenance and repair tasks. There was a lot of scraping and painting but also some high-wire work when a few of them went aloft to grease the cables of the ship's heavy lift cranes. They started at the top of the crane tower and then worked their way down the length of the cables with the aid of some bosuns chairs and carabiners.



The officers kept busy with their tasks as well. It seems like the paperwork never ends but at least the multiple days of uninterrupted, smooth sailing gave them the time to get caught up.

As a passenger I found the two-plus weeks to be extremely peaceful and relaxing. Dale, Dieter and I spent considerable amounts of time on the Bridge poring over the charts, tracking our progress and counting off intermediate milestones like the crossing of the International Date Line back on the 28th of January. It was interesting to observe the topography of the ocean floor, especially around the Hawaiian Islands ( we noted that Google Earth has a new service for exploring the ocean floor; I think we'll all be checking that out first chance we get ).

I spent considerable time reading and working on some photographs. On most days I enjoyed watching the sunset from the Pilot Bridge and woke up early a few mornings to catch a particularly promising sunrise. One night, off the Mexican coast, I was treated to the sight of a pod of dolphins swimming by and crossing in front of the setting sun; I doubt Disney could have orchestrated a more picture-perfect ending to a day.



Another treat that we so rarely see nowadays on land was an unimpeded view of the night sky. In the middle of the ocean, far from any competing light sources the constellations display their true brilliance. The other night the almost-full moon was so bright that it was casting shadows on the deck and even I could identify some of the more prominent stars and planets. Watching a full moon set on a mirror-smooth sea just before dawn was another great moment.

Besides the dolphins, of which we've seen quite a few these past couple of days, including a few swimming right under our bow, we've also seen our share of seagulls and flying fish. The seagulls worked very cleverly with the ship in their pursuit of food, such as flying fish; they would take advantage of the ship's passage through the wind by gliding along in our port side wake and then diving full-speed into the water to snag a meal. It's impressive to think how sophisticated their vision must be in order to see their prey below the surface and be able to catch it while accounting for refraction of the water, the movement of the prey and their own dive. Sometimes two or more would make a simultaneous dash towards the water only to have one or the other break off the pursuit and pull up at the last instant.



Along the Costa Rica/Panama coast we were accompanied by a contingent of about fifty seabirds that used our masts as resting perches as they waited for the flying fish to dash out in front of our bow. The water was very smooth so when a school of flying fish took off it was easy to see. They would dash out en masse, flitting just above the water. The birds would dive in pursuit, sometimes catching them in mid flight and other times diving after them into the sea. It's amazing how far the flying fish can travel through the air; some of their flights seemed to be in excess of one hundred meters.



I saw two turtles crossing our path, although I'm sure they were buffeted aside by our bow wave. I wonder what they think when they see a ship bearing down on them? According to one of the crew they just pull in their heads and pop up in our wake where they continue on with their journey.

The day before our Panama Canal transit the Captain decided to take advantage of the time we'd won coming across the Pacific. We stopped the engines and drifted with the wind and the currents from about 13:30 until 02:30 in the morning. The crew took advantage of the calm weather to finish some tasks and we passengers just enjoyed the type of weather you normally only see in travel brochures.

Overall it's been a long passage, but the time has passed reasonably quickly for me. I can honestly say that I never felt bored for a lack of something to see or something new to learn. We're all looking forward to our transit through the Panama Canal in a few days and after that our next port call in Galveston before heading to New Orleans and Houston.

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