Transpacific Cruise of the "Scotch Power 3"

“Scotch Power 3” Sails for Hawaii




Every time I sail across an ocean it seems to take more time to prepare than the last time did. Not sure if it is age that makes one more cautious or just the realization of all those “little details” it takes to put together a safe, fun and satisfying crossing. The preparation for this cruise took about a month and one half. The little discovery process often reveals projects in series, for example finding just a little bit of engine coolant in the bilge leads to replacing an intake gasket, which leads to replacing the overflow tube and eventually purchasing and installing new raw water pump. With the help of Thom, a good friend and engineer, a solar electrical panel and twelve volt battery monitor was installed. A vessel survey was required by the insurance company for sailing more than two hundred miles offshore. This lead to a rigging survey and eventual replacement of a seized roller furl bearing, VHF antenna, and spreader lights. The sails were removed, sent in for repair and stitching. New batteries were added to the list of things “Scotch Power 3”, a Catalina 380, would need. Various other systems were checked and found to be in good order, the gps, radar, autopilot, refrigerator, bilge pumps, running rigging, winches, alarms, and the propane stove. The crew arrived three days prior to our projected departure, finding most of the major projects were done. We were left with the emergency life raft, food, water, fuels and few personal affects left on the list. We all went to Avalon Liferafts where we rented a six man emergency life raft and given instructions in its deployment, boarding, and handling. As our instructor stated, climbing into a raft is a very “sobering moment”, we listened with rapt attention as he explained the details. Luckily, as it were, we never had to use it for its intended purpose.

Weather is always the final factor that dictates a departure and as such we were to be landlocked for one more day as the winds were blowing gale force just off the coast of Southern California on Friday the 23 of May. We took advantage of the extra day to purchase more food, favorites, specialties, sweets, fresh items and other numerous small things. This also gave the crew all a bit of time to get to know each other prior to being “out to sea”.

I felt very secure in the shipmates that would be sailing together. My nephew, John Peter Whitney had sailed with me on the “Jonathan”, a 36’ S2 sloop from Anacortes, Washington, to Kona, Hawaii nearly three years ago. He is a bright young man, married, raising a young girl and doing work on his doctorate at Harvard. I was elated when he called asking if he could join us on the transpacific trip. I hadn’t thought it was possible for him to get away.

Christoph, a travel, dive and adventure partner has been a friend for almost twenty years. He and his wife, Nancy, sailed “Intuition” with me on interisland cruises many years ago. Christoph recently retired as a computer engineer in the silicone valley. He sails and kayaks in Santa Cruz, California. This would be his first open ocean cruise, something he has wanted to do for years.

Friend and fellow pilot, Greg Garrison, and I are partners in a single engine airplane based in San Luis Obispo, California and involved in a house renovation in Baja, Mexico together as well. He has been a power boater and fishermen all his life, currently owning a twenty-six foot Sea Ray in Loreto, Baja. We cruised on the “Elysium” in the Sea of Cortez a couple of years ago and also sailed on “Scotch Power 3” to Catalina before.

Trusting in those you put the responsibility of standing watches, opening valves, operating engines, turning propane on and “OFF”, and sailing proficiently can make or break a passage. It is of the utmost importance, it is not nearly enough to have a good vessel, proper provisions and emergency equipment; you must have a crew with whom you are comfortable putting your life in their hands, because you are. I felt very fortunate to have all of this on this cruise across the Pacific. It is a great mix of personalities, abilities, experiences, creativity and intelligence.



My stepmother, Betty, had been invaluable in making the whole cruise possible, without her this could not have happened. “Scotch Power 3” was the last of a series of sailboats dad and her owned. They spent many summers cruising with friends along the coast of California. Surely, part of her would have liked to join us on some part of the cruise, but in its entirety would prove too much. She had spoken of selling the boat; however, I suggested keeping “Scotch Power 3” in the family, moving into my slip in Kona. The vessel will continue her mission as an entertaining vehicle of the seas, in Hawaii.


On May 24 there was a break in the weather and we were bid a “bon voyage” by Betty and her standard poodle, Misty. “Scotch Power 3” and her crew departed the docks of the Long Beach Yacht Club at two thirty in the afternoon. Deciding to head for Avalon, Catalina to shakedown the vessel, systems and crew became the latest plan. We also chose to have dinner ashore, our last shore side meal for a bit. Topping of the fuel in the morning, we motored in light winds around the east end of the island to hopefully find some wind to bend the sails. After an hour we shut the engine off, conserving our coveted 40 gallons of diesel, not enough to get us one tenth of the way to Hawaii.
We found ourselves generally becalmed for most of the day, only finding wind late in the afternoon to send us sailing east of San Clemente Island as our first night at sea stole the last bit of sunlight giving way to a clear star filled sky.

There were decent winds through most of the night; early the next morning the air became light and remained that way for the better part of the next six days, making our distance sailed less than one hundred nautical miles per day. The seas were calm, the skies clear and blue, and a beautiful backdrop for a still life painting but not much in energy to propel the vessel to Hawaii. We turned south, taking weather advice from friends Thom and David, whom we would talk to on the satellite phone every other day or so. It was important to get to the northeast trade wind belt which is around twenty-five degrees north latitude, where more consistent winds should be found. We tacked and gibed slowly making our way. There were several sightings of whales, dolphins, seabirds. One special pod of Orca (killer whales) crossed our bows at a clip over twelve knots. I secretly wondered if it was the same family I had seen while crossing on the “Honu Honu” three years earlier. We wished we were going that fast, but you settle for the three knots you get when you hitch hike on the wind.

Our meals have been far from canned beans and rice, however. We all "pitched in" creating new combinations with what we found in the “reefer” and what we have seduced with our fishing lures, Kawakawa tuna, so far. Sashimi, served in the cockpit with a cold glass of wine or beer before our “main” meal has made the afternoons something to look forward to. We have also been listening to Joshua Slocum’s “Around the world alone” on audio books plugged into the boat’s sound system as a group, every afternoon in the cockpit. All of us would share the 3pm to 6pm shift, which is kind of our social and entertainment time. Preparation of dinner also took place at this time. It also had a function of changing our normal watch times so no one person is stuck with the 4am to 6am shift every day, which made the shifts rotate once per day. We all have one watch for three hours in the daytime and one two hour watch at night. Having more rest time keeps us all quite fresh and in good spirits. Fatigue has taken its toll at times on many a voyage and can take away from the pleasures of a great cruise. A rested crew is a safe crew and fewer accidents happen as a result. A shift was often looked forward to, a time for some solitude, thought, pondering, observing and listening to music under the great azure skies during the day or under a blanket of stars, moon, planets, satellites, and meteors at night. No terrestrial experience comes close to this feeling.

The large solar panel, which was mounted aft atop the biminy cover, produced enough current during the day to keep the autopilot and the refrigerator running without draining the batteries. We ran the engine or Honda generator in the early morning or afternoon to charge batteries for the night usage. We were able to keep shrimp and chicken and ice cubes frozen in the deep part of the reefer throughout the voyage.

We were at sea for nearly a week before regularly sailing at hull speed, six knots. There just hadn’t been the Pacific high pressure to supply the north or northeast trade winds. We did try sailing with a borrowed spindrifter sail off the bow, normally a great downwind sail, however without a spinnaker pole to keep the sail from slapping with every passing wave we found it to be less reliable than our roller furled genoa. As we found the winds increase to 15 and 20 and then 25 knots we noted it was too directly behind us to use both the mainsail and genoa. We continued on just under the mainsail, secured with a line going forward from the aft end of the boom to the bow cleat to avoid the dreaded “uncontrolled gybe”, when the boom flies all the way from port to starboard or vice versa, which has the potential to create havoc with the mast or make it assume the horizontal position, something to avoid at all costs.

Around our tenth day out we were far enough south that I told Pete we “this will be a mahi day”. I knew he would be looking forward to catching some mahi mahi or “dolphin fish”… dorado, if you are from Europe. Early on we had a good strike and sure enough the electric blue color of the mahi shined as the fight began, however it was short lived, as I lost the fish at gaff; it swam off. Not long afterwards we had a double mahi strike and boated both fish, twenty to twenty-five pounders. Pete fought the larger of the two for sometime and asked for a little help when it came to leader and my gaffs were successful this time. Good thing too, for I am sure it is one of the accepted rules for mutiny to loose more than one fish at gaff in a day. We froze some of the mahi and had a great lunch of “mahi tacos” with a cool Tecate in the cockpit all the while “otto” or best crew, steered without complaint enroute to the island of Hawaii.

We made several controlled gibes to avoid heading directly downwind to Hawaii, generally running about 30 degrees off to port or starboard. Of course winds do shift with every passing rain squall and therefore our course. We used a sailing feature on the autopilot that keeps the vessel aligned according to the wind and not a compass bearing. It actually steered straighter and safer than we could have in the large ten to fifteen foot swells. It was more difficult to steer during the nights with overcast and no stars to aim at; we all owed lots of thanks to “otto”. The only problem we had was when he broke his arm, or linkage from the actuator to the rudder post. That was solved with a jury rig using a ring cotter pin and plastic wire ties which cured the problem for another 1,000 miles.

Once in the tropics, the tradewinds became quite regular, blowing in the eighteen to twenty-five knot range most of the time with gusts to thirty-seven occasionally. We have been running with just the mainsail with one reef point taken in to be somewhat conservative while still cruising along at an average of six knots. The time takes on a very surreal feeling, days blending into nights; sleep taken at all odd times is the way aboard a sailing vessel. The body generally adjusts to these “unusual” patterns with an occasional revolt of insomnia when an unusually rough night keeps tossing you around in your bunk like a tee shirt in a washing machine.

We have been watching videos aboard in the afternoons while generating some extra battery charge with the Honda generator. These “movie times” are augmented with snacks like sashimi, crackers, cheeses, artichoke hearts, hearts of palm, sundried tomatoes bathed in olive oil and balsamic vinegar. We are adapting to roughing it, oh did I mention an ice cold beer or favorite glass of wine? I also invented a drink to go along with the ice cubes the freezer portion of the refrigerator has been keeping frozen… The “tangtai”….like a maitai but made with space juice, Tang!!!! A squeeze of lime and not a bad drink for a hot afternoon cruising along on auto pilot….I think we all had “way too much fun”. Greg and Christoph (their first crossings) were thinking things should have been a lot tougher than that, after hearing all the sailing yarns of tragedies at sea. I even heard Christoph somewhat complain that no accidents, scary times or bad stuff happened and what could he write home about! Just a perfectly pleasant cruise, fair weather, all systems working all the time, plenty of rest, fine cuisine, good music on the ipods at night. Wow!

The dream continued, more fine weather, following seas, brisk winds, surfing down swells and catching fish anytime we put the lures out to fish. We eventually caught eight mahi mahi and eight tuna, the latter of which were Christoph’s favorites, served sashimi style with wasabi and soy sauce. He thought we were being excessive by continuing to catch the mahi’s, we continued none the less and never heard a complaint from any of the folks back home who shared in our fresh and “fresh frozen” catches of mahi fillets that upon our arrival in Kona.

The last few days were made up of a variety of emotions, anxiety and anticipation of our arrival, the thought of sailing through the notorious “Alenuihaha Channel”, spending time ashore with all the freshwater showers we could handle, beds that didn’t shift and bounce underneath us. Some couldn’t wait to arrive; some had immediate plans to continue on to other places. I was feeling kind of mixed, in that I would have been just fine sailing another week or two…or maybe three, it was just so ideal, all in all. Greg had a bit of it too; he had fallen in love with being “out there” crossing great oceans on a simple breeze and a well founded vessel. He was anxious to get back to see his wife in California, having been away for nearly two months. Before leaving I asked if he would want to do another cruise and received a very strong, "YEAHHHHH"!

The last full day of the cruise we caught another couple of mahi as we sailed in a rather benign channel with two to three foot seas and fifteen knots of wind. The Big Island was visible most of the day as we altered course slightly to the east of Upolu Point, heading in the direction of Waipio Valley. This was a slightly more advantageous point of sail in terms of comfort and speed, but as Peter pointed out “it isn't the shortest distance between two points…ah the theorists, gotta love them! I think he caught my drift as we closed the distance between us and the cliffs of the dramatic Hamakua coastline. We crossed a tug and barge's path, agreeing by radio to intersect their course just slightly aft of them. I don’t like the idea of attempting to cut in front of those behemoths, what if the wind died or shifted as our hull lies in front of their steaming course backed up with fifteen knots of speed and tons of momentum? Actually we had another fish strike about two miles before our closest contact with them, had to alter course to slow the boat down enough to fight the fish.

As the light of the day dwindled we watched our last setting sun off in the west. Waipio Valley, its waterfall off the east cliff face shown white against the quickly darkening rainforest walls, our natural “Big Island lighthouse” showing our way. As we got within one mile of the cliffs I ordered a tack or change of course, turning directly downwind for Upolu Light. Enough moons illuminated the islands cliffs to make a dramatic backdrop for our final night of sailing, all is well. I was the fortunate one to enjoy that early evening shift, followed by Greg, whose excitement kept him awake even during my shift. We rounded the north point of the island at midnight and made for Keahole Point, the westernmost portion of the island. As the tradewinds were blocked by the island itself we had to motor for a few hours until the nightly offshore winds kicked in giving us the speed to once again use the wind to find our way to Honokohau Harbor on the Kona Coast. We passed the point around sunrise and made our way past the green buoy and into the shelter of harbor. We were given a temporary slip to use and soon were greeting our friends as the made their way to our dock to greet us and be some of the first to enjoy the spoils or our crossing, fresh mahi fillets.

I took care of checking in with the harbormaster, paid some fees, registered the vessel in Hawaii, made an appointment with the State Agriculture Department to meet us and inspect the vessel for plant or animal life, turned out we were the “only animals” onboard! The crew had washed and secured the “Scotch Power 3” while I dealt with bureaucracy. We were set to go ashore for a lunch and schooners of beer at the harbor house, a mandatory policy for sailors whose legs haven’t quite adjusted to the stationary aspects of land. More friends joined us at the harbor house to add to the merriment. It is always a great experience to have crossed an ocean and survived, (and then some) and lived to tell the tales with friends and loved ones on the other side. A short five hour plane flight will never seem quite as long after a sailor crosses an ocean by the grace of wind and vessel.