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"Liki Tiki Too"

Back home, I spent my free time watching TV. I am totally discouraged of trying to do the seemly impossible and swore never to go to sea again. It’s like an old girl friend that I didn’t want to see again, but could not forget. Liki Tiki Too and Hawaii lay waiting for me to bring the two together. But why does the trip have to be made? Why can’t this urge leave me so I can rest in peace? For six months this urge to try again kept banging around in my head. Difficulty sleeping at night kept me tired all day.

It was late at night, but I wondered down to the boat club. Walking up to Liki Tiki Too, I felt that it had feelings and that it was very hurt that I neglected her for so long. It was very dark and I could not see her very well, but climbing aboard was like meeting a close friend after a long separation. Everything was as I had left it except for some water in the bilge.

I sat on deck looking up at the stars in the clear night. As I dreamed, I could almost see the wind filling the sails once again and the ocean waves rolling by. Liki Tiki Too and I belong at sea together. As I sat there, I said to myself, "there is no point going on fighting this feeling. In four months the wind will be right for sailing to Hawaii. I will not have the problem I had the year before by leaving to late in the season."

Work needs to be done to make her easier to handle, especially the self-steering. The next few days, I purchased supplies for the modifications. I designed and built a wind vane which was connected to a trim tab on the rudder. The device seemed to be too sophisticated, mounted on a dugout canoe. It did not look good, but it was a must. In the middle of the hull, I rebuild the cabin, raising the headroom from 3 feet to 4 feet. I used the aft compartment to store food and water.

I like experimenting with boat designs and rigging. This boat is small and easy to try out ideas. So I built a yardarm and set a square sail on the forward mast. On down wind passage, the boat should sail easier by its self. (Note: The square sail was not practical.)

My sailing date of February 27, 1970 was fast approaching. A friend gave me a semi-white kitten which I named Salty. Once again, I bought food for the voyage and filled the water bottles. It seemed that the boat would never be ready and I needed another six months to get ready. The leaks in the deck and making a dry place to store cloths and bedding would have to be left undone along with other small task.

I did not want the publicity I had the year before, so I decided to leave on Friday morning when most people are at work. I told my friends and the people who had helped me with the project. The press heard about it anyhow and was there to record my departure.

Again as the sun rose through the gray clouds over the Panama Canal, I sat on shore at the Diablo Spinning Club watching Liki Tiki Too tug at her mooring lines. I was not very excited about this trip because this was the 4^th time I tried something like this. Two attempts were from Tahiti to Hawaii. All were failures and I was wondering if this was going to be another. For the second time I quit my job with the Panama Canal Company right after I was given a promotion. My bridges were burned, so I could not go back.

As I sat there, my mind was going over all the preparations and supplies I had on board. Asking myself over and over, did I forget anything. Then it hit me, I did not have any seasick pills. I always get seasick. On second thought, I didn’t even have a first aid kit on board. I got on the telephone and asked a friend if he would buy a first aid kit and some seasick pills on his way over. As I was talking, a news man walked up behind me and overheard my request for pills. He made light of it, but I explained that I get sick every time I go out. It takes about three days to get over it.

While friends and news men were taking pictures, Salty jumped off the boat and swam toward the dock. It seemed that she knew what was taking place and wanted no part of it. I said, "no one else wants to go with me, but this cat is going to go."

It was 9 AM, the time I announced I would leave. The pills or the first aid kit did not arrive. Friends arrived to see me off. Some took time off work to be here, so I felt it only fair to leave on time. Again the horns blew and everyone on shore waving as I left Balboa, Canal Zone.

With an outboard motor mounted on an outrigger, I motored along the Panama Canal, through the ship anchorage. I passes under the bow of several ships at anchor, Their bow towered high above the top of my mast. Their presents made me feel very small on a very small boat. Leaving the last ship behind, I wondered what the future holds.

The dry season trades were blowing from the NE. My course was SW, so I set the square sail which I did not try yet. I then set the self steering which I did not try out yet either. All worked very good in the light wind. I was getting ready to set the mainsail when the wind suddenly picked up to 20 knots. The square sail was giving me all the speed I could handle. Then the waves became very short and steep, with Liki Tiki Too plowing into every wave. I became so sick, I wished the boat would fill up with water and go to the bottom with me in it.

When I loaded the boat, I organized the food and water supplies. All the other supplies were thrown below deck and that included charts. Looking for charts, I found roll after roll of maps of Panama. I then found charts of the Atlantic Ocean. I did not want them on board and the maps belong to a friend of mine. I have charts of the Pacific some place on board, but I became to sick to look any more. Again I hung my head over the rail.

The boat would only stay on course for an hour in the turbulent seas. Little by little, the following waves would push the stern around until it was broad side to the waves. The waves came faster that the self steering could correct the shift. I was to far out of it to try and fix it now. I just hoped it would work later on in the voyage.

The sky was clear as the beautiful red sun sank into the windy sea. I could see the last sight of land, far into the haze to the NW. With the wind now blowing hard from the north and the boat headed south, I could not go back, even if I had to. Tried sleeping in the main cabin, but Liki Tiki Too would keep going off course. I would have to get up, walk across the aft cabin, bring the boat back around and walk back to the main cabin and try to sleep some more. After a couple of trips, I decided to stay in the aft hatch where all the food was stored. There was a space 2 feet by 4 feet to lay in. I could reach out of the hatch and hold the tiller over when she went off course. It was very uncomfortable, but I was too sick to care. I left Salty up forward, apparently she did not like being alone. She ran across the wet deck through the spray and jumped in on top of me. She may be only a cat, but someone needed me and I felt a little better after that.

Tried to eat some breakfast this morning. My stomach would not hold it and had to hang my head over the railing again.

The wind was still blowing hard from the north at 15 to 20 knots. Land is no longer in sight. It is Liki Tiki Too, Salty and I against the unpredictable Pacific Ocean. I often wonder why I must make this trip. I really have no choice. Something inside me is making me do it. I lay in the 2’x4’ aft hatch all day and all night, sick.

The bright sun rays struck my eyes. While rubbing them, I could tell the wind had died down some and I was feeling better. Apparently, I was sleeping very hard and did not know the seas had calmed. Checking the compass, I found we were on course and the self steering was working. I ate some breakfast that I was able to hold this time.

All morning, the sea color was a dark brick red. It is often called the red tide that is caused by an over abundance of very small phyto plankton. About noon, I could see blue water where the red tide ended.

I finally found the charts and tried to get a position. I could not get any of the sun sights to work out.

The winds calmed enough to where I could raise the mainsail. The square sail looked like a raggedy bed sheet, so took it down. With the mainsail up, things began to look better. I did not have to stay at the helm to keep the boat on course. No waves were coming on board now, so I laid bedding and clothes out to dry.

All afternoon the winds kept dying until sundown when it became calm. I cooked my first meal which was a can of soup. My stove is a one burner gas picnic stove that uses canned fuel. It is small enough to put away with the dishes.

The night sky was clear. The stars seemed like they were hanging low over the ocean, and all I had to do was reach up and take one. Now, many miles from city lights and air pollution, one can almost feel the starry heavens as well as see them. The air even smells fresher.

The seas were calm all night with occasional light winds from the south. I had my first good nights sleep stretched out in the forward cabin.

I lay in the cabin, looking out through the open hatch watching the stars slowly fade from the heavens. All was still and quite. The whole world seemed to be at peace. As the sun rays were creeping over the horizon, I looked out over the calm ocean. The sea was so flat, it looked like I was setting on a mirror that might break at any moment.

After a breakfast of hard rolls and coffee, I took some sun sights with the plastic sextant. I was anxious to know my location. I took several sights with no two coming close to another. I had positions on the chart that were 60 miles apart. Anyhow, this gave me a rough position of 240 miles south of Panama City or 60 north of Malpelo Island. Last year, it took me 10 days to get this far. Anyhow, I am far from shipping lanes.

There was no wind all morning, so below deck, I organized the living quarters. When I found a place for everything, I had a lot of room, considering the small size of the boat. With that job done, I sat on the outrigger, watching the sea life below. The water was filled with jelly like plankton. Plankton is understood to be microscopic creatures, but these were large, up to six inches long. All were transparent with no two alike. A bonito swam around the boat a few times, I showed it to Salty, but she was not interested.

Mid-afternoon, a light wind came out of the SW. This is a normal trade wind in this area, but not this time of year. I began to worry that they set in early and again force me back to Panama. I wanted to get further south, so I set sail for the SE. This sailing was enjoyable, the wind not hard and the sea fairly smooth.

As darkness slid over the ocean, the wind died with it. The dark ocean became as still as I have ever seen. There seemed to be a mist all around and all I could see was the stars overhead. I had finally given up on any wind and took down the sails and went to bed.

Here I sit on a rotting log that sits on a mirror flat ocean. Are the calms going to defeat me this time? Is the dugout canoe going to rot in this tropical heat and sink from under me? Or is the food and water going to give out first? Which would I rather have, storms or calms? Each seems to want to defeat me in a different way. In storms, the boat is moving, even if it is the wrong direction. In calms, the sails can not be raised because gentle swells that roll by, cause the rigging to bang around and the noise in a dead quite sea becomes unbearable. Those haunting words by well meaning friends keep coming back, "you will never make it."

Four days I sat in this calm. The burning sun made the decks to hot to walk on. So I would wash them down and go for a swim. The surface water must be as hot as the air. Diving deeper than three feet, the water became cool. I did not worry about sharks until I saw a dark shadow under me as I dove in. I scared it away, but it also scared me out of the water. On the other hand, it may have been my reflection as I went in.

I had time to find out what I was doing wrong with the navigation problems. After doing many problems, I finally got them to work out within 5 miles of each other. This is good enough to find an island. Islands are visible for about 15 miles from a small boat. During calms, navigation is discouraging. Every day the position is the same with no progress except for a drift toward Malpelo Island. Last year the winds stopped me at the island and sent me back to Panama. I was hoping to see it again, but never did. The island is one big rock about a mile long that climbs straight out of the water for several hundred feet. There is no landing or anchorage there. Sea birds make their home on it.

I was not alone, there are snakes swimming on the surface all around the boat. They have black and yellow strips and are very poisonous. If one bites you, that is lights out. There is no antidote for its venom. I motored near some to see if they would try climbing on board, but they had no interest in getting out of the water.

Giant sea turtles about three feet across were all around. The sea was so calm that their back were dry in the hot sun. Some would dive under when they see the boat, others would go under after they hit the boat. I thought about trying to catch one, but did not want to take chances of an accident.

Hundreds of birds fly around every day. One kept diving in the water beside a turtle. There must have been small fish seeking the turtles protection.

At night, Salty roams the decks, dew collects and she comes to me soaking wet. I tried to make her sleep some place else. After I go to sleep, she would curl up on my stomach to sleep. I would wake up in the night to find her sleeping on me which I learned to tolerate.

At the end of the seventh day, while the hot sun was sinking into the Pacific Ocean, a breeze came out of the SSW. I hurried about he boat, setting sails. The wind would not allow me to sail west, so I sailed WNW. The gentle breeze filled the sails. Liki Tiki Too glided through the water that she was meant to do. The evening was perfect and enjoyable, I was on my way to Hawaii. Feeling very happy, I went to bed.

I slept on an air mattress that was pulled out of storage each evening. I woke every two hours to check the boat. There was a compass mounted in the cabin and used a flashlight to check it. If the boat was on course and I could hear the sound of water rushing past the hull, I went back to sleep. If not, I would go no deck and make adjustments as necessary. If there was water in the bilge, I would pump it out at this time also.

By midnight, the seas were kicking up and the waves were banging harder on the hull. I thought I had better go out and trim sail, when out on deck, the seas were not that bad and left the sails alone.

The sky was clear as the red sun rose out of the ocean. As the sun came up the wind died down. I shutter at the through of spending another calm day out here on this ocean. But soon the winds came back and blew all day at 7 to 10 knots. The waves continue to bang on the hull and they bother me, but it is a noise that I have to adjust to. When the banging stop’s, that means the boat has stopped too. The faster the boat goes, the harder the waves pound on the hull. The speed is 2 to 4 knots.

Salty finds all the leaks in the hull. She plays with the drops of water as they come through and doesn’t seem to mind getting wet.

With everything operating smoothly, I have time to relax and read for the joy of it. I also made some chocolate pudding which I enjoyed.

I feel a little lonely out here, but this is to be expected. Salty is a great deal of company.

Today I was anxious to take a sun sight. I have not taken a position for there days now. The last day and a half, the boat covered a lot of miles. The seas are getting rougher which makes the sun and horizon in the sextant difficult to line up. I took several sights and worked out the position. Four were within 10 miles of each other, the rest were way off. The new position put the boat 125 miles west of the four day calm. I was now excited and knew I would make Hawaii. There was no turning back this time.

Sense the SW winds started to blow, I have not spent any time at the tiller. The self steering works OK. I developed three different self steering systems.

During the afternoon, I lay on the bow and watched the waves roll under Liki Tiki Too. It was very relaxing and enjoyable.

As the sun rays were pushing the night sky back, I could see clouds on the horizon. The first I have seen in a week. The wind had shifted and is now blowing out of the south which make sailing due west possible.

300 hundred miles west of today’s position are the NE trade winds. When that point is reached, I am home free. The SW trades will not be there to slow the boat down.

While taking a sight this morning, the wind blew one of my charts overboard. Anything that goes over the side is gone forever. There is no way to recover anything. If it floats and if I turn around to recover it, finding it will be almost impossible. The same is true if I should fall over board. That would be the end. The boat would sail on. I did not ware a safety harness because it always tangled in something. I felt safer without it. Whenever I work on deck, one hand was for me and one for the boat.

Late this afternoon, a black clouds built up and turned into the first of many rain squalls. The boat went through the end of the squall as it blew north. When it had passed, the wind was blowing even harder out of the south. I set the course to WNW so as to go down wind a little. The seas and wind act wild, but right now everything is under control. If the wind blows any harder, I will have to head down wind which is north. That I do not want to do. Hawaii is west.

Just before dark, a long heavy and very white cloud came out of the south. As the leading edge approached, the wind suddenly stopped and it rained thick and heavy. The heavy rain flattened the sea almost as fast as the wind stopped. I believe this was the edge of the doldrums.

The next few hours became most perplexing. Night had fallen and the rain had stopped. A light wind kept changing directions. I adjusted sails for the new wind. A short time later the wind stopped leaving torrential down pore. The rain soon stopped with wind blowing from a different direction. The night was so black, I could not see the water or the sky overhead. I felt like I was in empty space fighting an unknown and unseen force. When things seemed to be settled down, I went below to sleep.

After sleeping a short time, I woke to hear water rushing by the hull. I was pleased the boat was moving along so good. I turned on the light to find the boat was headed east. The wind shifted to out of the north and took the boat around with it. I got out my warm dry bunk and ventured into the cold wet dark night to bring the boat back around. After sitting awhile to be sure everything is in order, I went below, back into the warm bunk. I just about fell asleep when I heard the sails flapping and the water stop rushing by the hull. I lay there wondering what was going to happen next. Then the sails became quite, soon I heard the rushing of water past the hull. Liki Tiki Too reset herself and we were on our way again. I turned the light on the compass, the boat was headed east again. The wind changed back from the south. Again, back into the cold wet night to bring the boat back around again. After this the wind held and I slept good till early morning.

Liki Tiki Too seems to be protesting the trip to Hawaii. When I woke this morning, she was dead in the water. There is still 4,300 miles to go and we can’t get there by drifting. The first rays of light were peeking over the horizon as I made my way back to the tiller. The shock cord was broken and had to replace it with a new one. While fixing it, I saw a bright white light moving on the horizon coming toward me. I turned on my lights only to find they did not work. By this time I could tell it was a fishing trawler. I aimed my flashlight toward them, they turned and went south.

The sun came up in a clear sky behind me, but ahead was an angary looking sky which gave me a feeling of a bad day ahead. Salty was unconcerned, she just found her first flying fish. She played with it for a long time until she discovered it was good to eat.

I prepare my meals inside the main cabin on the floor. All the food I have is canned that includes soups and fruit juices. Liquids in cans supplements the required amount of water. To keep the cans from rusting and other food dry by storing everything in large clear plastic bags. Each bag holds everything I need for four days. This avoids opening other bags with the possibility of water getting inside. Bags are filled with canned food, juices, candy, cookies, coffee, sugar, paper products and cat food.

The gray clouds hung over the ocean all day, but there was no rain. The wind kept up its 10 knot pace which made the ocean very rough. The topside and below deck is always wet. Things do not get a chance to dry out.

Just before dark, the trawler came up behind me again. I was anxious to send a message back to Balboa. I wrote a note and put in a plastic bag with some steel washers, to give it weight for throwing. I got a parachute flair out but was afraid to send it up. I then wondered if it was right to call a ship over if all I wanted was to send a message. I was in no danger. I watched the trawler a while and they did not seem to be in any hurry to go any place. I then felt it was more important to send a message than my present feelings. So up went the flair.

They came right over and stopped behind me. I asked if they would send a message to Balboa and they said they would. I then threw the plastic bag with the note. It went right over their ship into water on the other side. Then the radio man came to the railing and took a message. The captain was very formal and used proper etiquette. He asked if I needed anything else to which I said "no."

Then he asked if he could go to which I said "yes." (Note: The message was never received.)

The waves near the ship were short and choppy, Liki Tiki Too bounced around like a cork out of control. While hurrying about the deck to get under way again, I fell through the open aft hatch, bruising my ankle, leg and arm.

The gray sky turned black as darkness fell. The wind whipping up the seas was the strongest I had to deal with so far. The banging of the waves on the hull became so bad, I had to take down the mainsail. With the mainsail down, the storm became more tolerable with less noise inside the cabin. Liki Tiki Too sailed all night with only the jib and foresail.

About midnight, the rains came that lasted the rest of the night. About ever hour I had to get up and pump the bilge, which meant getting out of a warm bunk and venturing into the cold wet night. I wish I had installed the pump below deck.

When it is stormy line this, the wind and seas look worse than they really are. Slowing the speed of the boat, one can have peace of mind. It will take longer to reach Hawaii.

Heavy overcast with rain and strong winds all day. Reefed the main and raised it. The boat sailed better after that. The self-steering was working very good. I spent he day below reading and trying to stay dry.

The clouds broke up during the night which let the stars make the night a little more brighter. But a contrary wind blew out of the west. That is the direction I want to go. So I sailed north which does not help much, but we were moving which seemed to be important. 200 miles to the west are the NE trade winds. If only I could get there sooner, I will be on my way.

Just before sunrise, the trawler was again behind me. I lit a kerosene lamp, but it would not stay lit. Anyhow, the trawler disappeared.

Dawn brought a beautiful sunrise. The sea had settled with a gentle westerly breeze that reflects the beautiful colors of the Pacific sunrise. While sipping a hot cup of coffee, I noticed that a shackle was about to fall off the main sheet block. The wind was light, while standing on the lee rail, I pulled in the boom. Holding the boom with one hand, I started to tighten the shackle with the other. Then a wave lunged the boat, loosing my balance, the boom pulled me overboard. As I went over, one hand grabbed the aft railing. Holding on, I was wondering how I was going to get back on board. With the boat dragging me through the water, I looked to the outrigger. It seemed to far away. I looked to the stern and saw nothing but water, fear struck me for the first time and I was instantly back on board. This boat is not going to sail on without me and I am going to make it.

From this time, I had more respect for the sea, realizing the sea does not honor sloppy attitudes. I now had a great deal of respect for light winds as well as strong.

The gaff and boom were wearing away the mast at a fast rate, with their constant motion. I nailed some copper sheet over the chaffing. This was one of the many jobs left undone before I left. There was a nail hole through the cabin top. I used tooth paste to stop that leak.

With a mild wind and sea, I climbed onto the outrigger and took a bath. I soap down with liquid dish washing detergent. (Joy works best in salt water.) Then lay on the outrigger and let the cool Pacific waves wash over me.

I have not taken any sights for several days. The winds force me to go north or south which does not help the west direction. At least the boat keeps moving which is better that sitting still.

The uninhabited jungle covered island of Cocos is in the vicinity. It is believed that pirates buried treasure there. Many people have gone to look for it, but none has been reported to be found. If someone did fine treasure, I am sure nothing would be said.

Late afternoon, a squall with billowing black clouds was growing intensely to the north. I always get a little scared when black squalls blow up like this. One never knows what it is going to do. It may force one to fight for survival if the winds are heavy, or it may go by without adding a ripple to the waves. This time I was preparing for the worst. As I was reefing the mainsail, the wind shifted and started blowing hard out of the NW. According to the pilot charts, gale force winds can be expected from this direction. I became very nervous and hurried all the more to get the boat ready.

As I was working, Salty was playing with the ropes and everything else I was handling at the time. When I would hurry across the deck, she would grab my leg with her claws. I started to get mad, when I thought, she is not worried or nervous about the storm, but relaxed and having fun. Getting up tight is not helping matters anyhow. So I went ahead with preparations in a calm manner. It helped.

After dark, while in my bunk, the storm hit. Liki Tiki Too handled herself exceptionally well and I went to sleep.

About three hours later, I woke up and put my head out of the hatch to see how things were going. A cold salty wave slapped me across the face that left my eyes stinging. I finally lost my cool, slammed the hatch shut and went back to sleep.

At one AM, I turned on the light and saw we were headed back east. Opening the hatch, I found the storm had blown its self out with a light wind from the SW. I turned the boat around and was able to sail WNW which was a lot better direction that the last couple of days.

The dark black clouds of night turned to light gray as the sun came up. As I was eating breakfast, the hot sun burned away all the clouds. I ate the last fresh grapefruit. Yesterday I ate the last fresh pineapple. From now on, all the food is canned or dried.

I have not taken position sights for the last four days, because I have not been going anywhere. I wanted to know my location, so took some sights. I am having trouble with the navigation problems again. The sights would not agree. I listen to the radio for time ticks and my watch was OK. I could not find out what I was doing wrong. I did have one bad habit. If a position shows I covered a lot of miles, I would accept it as fact without checking it. If a position showed that I covered only a short distance, I would check and recheck, hopping to find an error to prove I covered more miles. As a rule, it would not change. I finally gave up on trying to get a position today.

I was wondering if the tin cans in the aft compartment was affecting the compass. The compass in the main cabin reads different than the one by the tiller. Using the nautical almanac, I can check the compass using the sun at sunrise or sunset when the sky is clear.

It seems that the winds will not let me pass the 87° long. meridian. About 200 miles west is 90° long. where the NE trade winds start. At this point we should cover many miles per day with the wind coming from the stern. There seem to be an invisible barrier that will not let Liki Tiki Too pass.

Wind, seas and weather seem to be the most important elements at sea in a small boat. I keep thinking of fishing trawlers, their most important element at sea is finding fish. Each ship has its own problems which teaches us patience.

When the night sky darkens the water around me, I lay in my bunk and think about the two inches of wood between me and the cold dark, wet ocean that is three miles deep. I put my ear to the hull and listen to the water rush by. I know this boat is tough and I fall asleep.

The early morning sun stages a beautiful show to the west. Against the black clouds stood a brilliantly colored rainbow. It looked like the gateway to the west and all I had to do was sail under it. But the winds were coming from the west.

All day the winds kept changing and making the waves so confused, that the boat bounced around and not going anyplace. One wave after another would slam into the bow and stop progress. Then another would slam into the side and through the boat off course. With the rain and ocean spray, it was one wet miserable day.

The long night gave way to another beautiful dawn sky. A steady wind was opposite of yesterday’s dead calm. I gave Salty a bath which she did not like. Then washed blankets and towel’s and hung them in the bright warm sun. It was a good day for airing out the boat to dry things out.

Early afternoon, another squall was building up to the south. There were light winds from the north and I was sailing or to be exact, drifting to the west. A dark heave cloud was churning low in the sky behind me. About a half mile away, a water spout dipped out of the clouds, down to the ocean sucking up water and throwing out of the base. It sounded like a freight train and looked like a giant egg beater. I have never seen one before. I did not know if I should worry about it, get scared, or ignore it. I left the sails up because the wind was taking me slowly away. Also it may blow me away from it should it come this close.

I then decided to get the outboard motor going. Stilled mounted on the outrigger, the waves have been rolling over it for over two weeks now. I pulled and pulled on the starter cord and it would not start. Then I looked up, another spout was coming down on top me. I ran around the deck dropping sails. The water around the boat began to whip up as the spout slowly came down. Now I was scared, that spout will sink Liki Tiki Too. The cloud churned over the mast a short time but did not come all the way down. Then it slowly went back up as if an invisible hand pushed it back. A short time later, the spout behind me blew out. I pulled one more time on the starter cord and the engine started. I motored a while until my nerves calmed down.

As the sun was setting in the semi-calm Pacific, the squall that was to the south cleared, what did I see, Cocos Island about 15 miles behind me. I wanted to land there, but I was down wind from the island. I would have to motor back and it might take all the gas I have. Also, I would arrive after dark. With no lights, I could end up on some rocks, so I just sailed on. The winds were favorable now.

The squall was blowing steady 25 knots out of the east. All the sails were up and I was at the tiller fighting the helm. I was determined to get miles out of this one. Liki Tiki Too went skimming over the water and it took all my strength on the tiller to keep her from broaching. I felt that if she broached, the outrigger would bust, then the boat would roll over and sink. I could not turn loose of the till no mater how long or hard the wind blew or how tired I might get. Less sail would ease things, but I can’t let go to reduce sail. An hour later it was all over and I believe 10 miles was covered in that time. That’s what I have been covering per day for the last few days.

All day the wind continued from the east and the self-steering took over. Running down wind, there was no more waves banging on the hull. Just the satisfying sound of water rushing by.

All night, the favorable wind blew hard from the SE. Flashes of lighting exposed the black clouds hanging low overhead. I was afraid of being hit by another squall. Then Liki Tiki Too sprang a leak. I was having to bail out every hour. If that was not enough, a salt water sore broke out on my elbow that became infected. The swelling was painful. Now that I have favorable winds, it seems that theses other problems come along to hold one back. But then, this trip was not intended to be one of luxury. It became impossible to sleep with the boat going so fast. About 3 AM I reefed the mainsail to give me peace of mind. When I finally got the sail reefed, the wind died completely. Being totally discouraged, I pumped out the one more time, took down all the sails and went to bed.

I woke this morning to a gray dull sky. Waves were rolling around inside the boat. The leak seem to be getting worse. On deck I pumped out the bilge again. There was still no wind, but huge waves were rolling down from the north. They were very rough and kicking the boat around like a football. I figured there must be a gale blowing just over the horizon. The waves were to large and rough to have traveled very far. If there was some wind, I could raise the sails and that would stabilize the boat.

I had to find the leak. The hull may have split. If so, it will open up and let more water pore in. I moped up the water in the main cabin, the leak is in the aft section where all the food and supplies are stored. I spent three days packing the aft section and did not want to pull out all the supplies.

I put on a face mask, swim fins and dove under the boat with a screwdriver. I probed around the bottom hoping to find the leak. The elements were against me. The heavy seas pitched the boat around, the bottom was so full of barnacles I could hardly see it, my elbow was throbbing and I could only hold my breath for a short time. In a few minutes, I was so sick and dizzy, I could hardly get out of the water. My elbow was hot with fever. I lay on deck and went to sleet from exhaustion.

I was not sure if I was just sleeping or passed out. I kept hearing engines running, I finally opened my eyes and saw a fishing trawler "Neptune" going in circles around me. I then wondered how long they were there. The Captain on the bridge asked if everything is OK in sign language. I gave a thumbs up that everything was OK.

They continued to circle and I wondered what it was they were up to. While they were doing this, I put a letter in a plastic bag that I wrote to my folks two days ago. They then brought the bow of their boat up to the stern of mine. They came so close, I thought the 10 foot waves that were rolling by would crash Liki Tiki Too under its bow. They then threw a carton of cigarettes, but they missed. I did not want to dive in after it, I might have trouble getting back to my boat. Besides, I do not smoke. We all drifted apart.

They were considerate enough to try to do something for me, I thought I had better make an effort to go back for the cigarettes. As I was hauling the gas tank out, they motion for me not to do anything. Soon they lowered an outboard motor boat, picked up the cigarettes and brought them over. I handed them the letter and they asked if I needed anything, to which I said "no".

As soon as they pulled away, the NE trades that I have been looking for, began to blow. There should be steady winds from now on.

As the gray overcast sky turned to darkness, the clouds rolled back and the white silvery moon shown on the waters of the Pacific Ocean. I have entered the NE trade winds. This means, no more heavy squalls, little rain, no more variable winds, only steady winds from the east. The gentle wind blew steady all night.

Liki Tiki Too was living up to its name. The leak was getting leakier. In the past during a heavy storm, I would have to pump 20 to 30 strokes every two hours. Today I had to pump 40 strokes every hour. When I went to bed, I heard this violent splashing in the bilge. The water was over the floor boards and about to get everything wet. It took 110 strokes to pump out the bilge. Then all night, I had to wake up every hour to pump. It was 50 to 70 strokes each time. I had to find the leak. Hawaii is still 4,000 miles away. I can not rest if I have to spend all my time keeping the boat afloat.

The warm sun came up in the clear blue sky. A few white trade wind clouds all around. I haven’t seen a sky like this for ten days. Neither have I taken a navigation sight for ten days because my progress was so slow. Now I am anxious to know where I am at. I took some sights and worked out the problems. They all came within five miles of each other. I was doing it right this time. Long. 89° 20’ Lat. 7° 15’ which is 120 miles west of Cocos Island which I saw five days ago. That is 25 miles a day.

I was hoping the leak would stop by itself. I put off fixing it all morning. By noon I was tired of bailing and got busy to find the leak. All the food and supplies had to come out of the aft compartment and placed on deck. When I lifted the floorboards, there was a water fountain. A pencil size hole right through the bottom and I could see the ocean on the other side. I made a wooden plug and drilled a hole to the plug size. Hammering the plug home ended the leak.

The food and supplies went back rather scrambled. Some of the bags tore. Salty finding some of her dried food tore them open some more. After storing everything back in the compartment, the fever in my arm spread to my whole body. So I went below and took a nap.

With light steady winds the last 24 hours, I was eager to find out how far we have come. Again I got another good group of positions. I did not believe the first positions because I became disappointed. I took more sights hoping they would improve but all showed I did 20 miles the last 24 hours. I guessed 50 or 60 miles for minimum.

The breeze blew gently in the tropical sun, I sat at the stern watching the waves come and go when the mainsail came crashing to the deck. I looked up, startled and wondered what happened. The throat halyard broke. I got some new line, spliced a thimble in it and took it up the mast. After running the new line through the block, the sail was ready to go again.

I tried using the square sail again. It did not work to good, so just stowed it away.

As darkness closes out another beautiful day, a bright full moon came out of the Pacific Ocean behind me. No water was splashing on deck, so I had all the hatches and ports open. I was sitting below looking out through the port watching the reflection of the moon dance on the waves. I had the radio on, listing to a local radio station in Texas. It was a perfect peaceful evening until Salty came running through the hatch and drops a flapping fish in my lap. Not knowing what happened at first, I jumped banging my head on the cabin top. Then I sat on it and jumped again. Salty found a 10 inch flying fish on deck and I got bumps on my head. She did not seem to know what to do with it. As I cut it up, she was so excited that she almost ran in circles.

Just before dawn, I lay in my bunk looking at the stars through the open hatch. Salty was racing from one end of the boat to the other, leaping over hatches and everything else. I thought, someday soon she will leap and the boat will not be under her. But I can not restrict her, she must have her freedom.

Today, Liki Tiki Too finally passes 90° Long. and covered 65 miles in 24 hours.

The ocean was a ghostly gray black with some green in it. It gave me an uneasy feeling. Yesterday it was a brilliant deep blue.

As I woke late this morning, there was squawking outside. Up in the rigging, large birds were trying to land on the yardarm. They all wanted one spot at the end of the yard and they were fighting each other over it. Salty got into the act and tried climbing the mast. She did not know that they were about three times her size. After several tries, she sat looking at them.

There were birds every day around the boat. This was the first time any landed.

The last couple of days, the boat has been going through rip tides. This afternoon, we went through one of the biggest I have ever seen. A solid wall of white caps in a north south direction. On the other side of it, the water was rather calm. As we went through it, Liki Tiki Too was thrown around a great deal. Winds with clashing currents cause the confused waves.

The winds from the NE have freshened up and are now blowing 10 to 15 knots. With the wind on the starboard quarter, Liki Tiki Too is moving fast at four knots. She did 95 miles the last 24 hours. One of the best days sailing. Speed does not come without disadvantages. The boat rides like a car on a stone road, hitting a pot hole once in a while.

The outrigger is under water most of the time and working hard. The stress could break off the outrigger, the boat would lay on its side, fill with water, and sink.

With the setting of the sun, the full moon shins on the Pacific waters from a clear sky. The heavens look so peaceful, but little do they know that I am fighting a stormy sea. Liki Tiki Too is leaving moonlight in its wake.

Just before the early morning sun began to rise, I lay on my bunk looking east through the open hatch. There hanging in the early morning sky was a comet. At first I thought is was a small cloud, but it hung there until the sun rays wiped it out. Again, a beautiful red sun seemed to boil its way out of the Pacific Ocean and another warm day began.

Life is settling down to a steady routine. Flying fish and small squid come on board all the time now. Salty has all she can eat, so I don’t feed her any more. This way I do not have dead fish smelling up the decks. She does a good job of house cleaning.

Birds are still trying to land on the yardarm. They are fun to watch as they fuss among themselves. Salty runs around the deck after them as they fly around the boat.

It seems very hard to do things now. After reaching the NE trades, I have not had to work with the sails, maybe adjust the sheets once in a while. With steady winds, the self steering does all my work. I have spent very little time at the tiller. The boat is averaging 90 miles a day now. But there are still little things to be done that I keep putting off. One is changing the gaff peak halyard before it breaks and sends the main to the deck again.

The peak halyard goes to the top of the mast which is six feet higher that the throat halyard. I also made a bad error in rigging the halyards. I terminated the end of the lines at the top of the mast. To change them, I have to climb up there. The bouncing boat bad enough on deck let alone at the to of a mast that is whipped around.

The peak halyard is about to break and needs to be replaced. I made a new halyard complete with a new block. Today the seas are somewhat calm. Should the halyard break in a storm, there is no way I could replace it. It had to be replaced now.

I dropped the mainsail and shimmed up the mast to where the stays are. That was the easy part. Above the stays, there was little to hold onto. Then I wondered if the small piece of wood would hold my weight. It may snap like a tooth pick. The job had to be done. I was very scared and didn’t know how to climb the last six feet. All I remember was I closed my eyes in fright, when I opened them, I was wrapped around the top of the mast while being whipped violently. For a moment, I thought it was going to snap by the cracking noise it made. Now at the top, I had to unshackle the old block and shackled in the new one. After several tries, I found a position where I could work with both arms wrapped around the mast.

I put my head down next to the mast under the block, with my arms over my head, I reached around the mast undoing the shackle, pressing it next to my head for support. I found I was able to take whipping very good in this position. The old block fell, the one quick look to line up the new block, tightened the shackle and it was changed.

Down on deck I was exhausted. Not having strength to raise sail, I lay on deck and fell asleep for a long time. When I awoke, I wondered of I had passed out again.

Woke up this morning with infection in my left leg so bad that it could hardly bend. It was a little sore yesterday when I went up the mast. Not having any first aid supplies on board, there was nothing I could do but wash it with fresh water.

The sea had a peaceful look this afternoon with heavy rain poring down in a somewhat calm ocean. The ocean colors had of a mix of pail blue, green and blacks. I stayed in the cabin to stay dry this time. The winds did not change when the squall blew over. At sundown, the rains stopped and it became calm. The first in the trade winds.

The sunsets are not a colorful as they were in the variables. The air is unusually clear. Later in the night, the wind freshened up to 8 knots under the bright light of the moon. After setting the sails, it was so peaceful and quite, I just sat at the stern watching the wind and waves dancing in the light of the moon. Then looking up at the sails working with the moon shinning on them, made one feel small and feel great at the same time.

The next few days were routine in the steady light to moderate NE trade winds. No waves were coming on deck which let Salty and I enjoy sitting on deck soaking up the warm sun.

One morning I was taking a sun sight when objects shot out of the water toward me. I ducked as they went over the boat. I looked around and saw several squid laying on deck. I quickly scooped up a bucket of water and put the squid in it, but they were already dead. Salty had another meal.

The infection in my knee is getting worse which is causing my leg to swell. I can no longer bend it, just throw it around like a man with a wooden leg.

Everyday, birds come around and inspect the boat. One day there were hundreds of them.

I am not a fisherman, but I tried to do some fishing. I put a lure out with 40 lb. leader. When I brought it in, the lure was gone and the wire had kinks. Then I put a 60 lb. leader with another lure. This time the leader and lure all were gone. I was using an 80 lb. test line. I didn’t know what was taking it, but I did not want that size fish on board.

After dark, the radio picked up stations from the states. First, I listen to Dallas. The weather, 40° and clear, warmer tomorrow. Easter, everyone is getting ready for Easter. Then the station fades out. Pick up St. Louis, 32° and snowing. I turned to other stations and listen to them freeze while I enjoyed 80° weather and clear skies.

In the black night, Liki Tiki Too was pounding hard in the heavy seas. The howling wind was coming down hard from the north. The boat was healed heavily on its port side with the outrigger deep under the waves. I dropped the mainsail for the first time in ten days. Put a reef in the main and sailed under reduced sail. I was then able to sleep with a lot less noise.

Again, the bright red sun boiled its way out of the Pacific Ocean into the clear sky. The winds had calmed down but were still coming from the north. I am at latitude 11°, the Hawaiian Islands are at 17°. During the next 2,700 miles, the boat must move north. Right now the north wind is keeping me at southern latitudes. Large swells came from the NE today, which means the NE trades are on their way back.

A low heavy black cloud drifted across the clear blue sky this afternoon from the east. The closer it got, the meaner it looked and took what wind there was. Black clouds that steal wind are not to be trusted. Soon the sails were flapping in the calm air. I sat at the stern watching the weather put on this show and I an unwilling player. Looking up at the angry clouds, I shutter, wondering what the next move is going to be. There is no choice but to take whatever it was going to throw at me. Maybe it will turn out good. The NE trades may be blowing on the other side. I closed the hatch when the torrential down pour and screaming winds hit. The boat was healed so far over, I thought it was going to lay on its side. Jumping out of the cabin, I dropped the mainsail into the ocean. Hauling it on deck, the wind kept trying to fill it and carried it back over the side. The stinging rain beating on my back made the job all the more harder. I finally got the boom and gaff on deck and tied down. The wind was still filling the sail. Lashing with more gaskets finally solved that problem.

With everything under control, I sat at the helm to see what next was going to happen. A half hour later the rain stopped and the air became calm. I wondered what this show of force is all about. Just before the sun sank into the sea to complete the show, light winds from the NE started to blow. That’s what I have been waiting for.

All night waves were washing across the deck and the wind was singing through the rigging. Liki Tiki Too was sailing west to Hawaii. The day started with a hot cup of coffee while watching the sun rise through the partly open hatch.

I felt we covered a lot of miles the last 24 hours and was eager to take a morning sight. I took several sights, checking and rechecking. The boat only covered 35 miles. The poorest days run sense entering the NE trades. I got the pilot chart to check the currents. A favorable half knot. Something was holding me back. Maybe the sails were not set properly and spilling most of the wind. I went around the deck tightened up on the sheets. In this rough water, one can not tell if the boat is going faster or not. Only the daily navigation plotting will tell. That is if the wind was blowing steady which it never does.

By the time I completed my morning position, the wind blew itself out to a calm. The inside of the boat was wet and cramped which needed housekeeping. I hung all the bedding outside to dry and then went through the stores below. There are a lot of items that I thought I might need, now many will never be needed. I built a small table that would be setup inside the cabin. That went over the side along with a folding chair. There were scraps of lumber for making repairs that went over also. I then tackled the food stores. I have been eating as much as I could so as to have room inside the boat. I had over supplied. Some food I did not like and never would eat unless I missed Hawaii. So food went into the ocean which seemed like a sin. When I got through, it was a new boat with more room to move around in.

With housekeeping finished, Salty and I were sitting at the stern when a school of porpoises swam by. One broke water beside us with Salty swishing her tail wanting to pounce on one. The porpoise blew water all over us and Salty ran below and came right back. Again the porpoise blew water over us. Salty ran again and was not eager to come back.

Just before dark, the winds and waves picked up until the waves were again splashing across the deck. Salty always comes out of the hatch and looked around to see if she has to dodge any waves. This evening she did the same thing, looked around and took a leisurely step when a wave smacked her in the side.

The deck is only 18 inches above the water line. Being this close to the water, every small change in the wind and wave pattern become important. I have to adjust to it to be comfortable. On ocean liners, passengers are only concerned with meals and fun. They do not become part of the sea as people do in small boats.

Now that I am in the mid Pacific, the waves are tremendous. I was guessing them to be 20 to 30 feet high. I read in a book how to measure them. The height of the eyes above the water line is a known height. Stand on deck and look at the horizon. Watch the top of the closest wave as it comes up to the horizon. If the top of the wave and horizon is the same, then the wave height is the same as the eyes from the water line. Standing on the cabin top, my eyes were 9 feet above the water. The waves were 9 feet not 30. Sometimes waves would look like a wall of water coming at me. I wondered how the boat would ever get over it. Liki Tiki Too always came through.

Overhead, the low flying clouds just race by in powerful strong winds. I sometimes wonder what keeps the strong winds from the surface. They appear to be only a few hundred feet up. If that wind cane down to the surface, it would sink my boat.

The Indians who made this boat have a belief that when the moon is full, the evil spirits flee away which brings good weather. When it is a new moon, all the evil spirits come out to make bad weather. Is is now new moon and the wind and waves are getting difficult to handle.

I no longer have to look outside to find out what the winds and seas are doing. I can hear it all inside the boat and know what it means and what the boat is doing.

I was sleeping soundly when I found myself deep in bilge water, at the same time cracking my head on the side of the hull. One of those walls of water must have come by and turned Liki Tiki Too on its side. The bilge water came out from under the floor boards and I fell off the air mattress into it. Being soaking wet and the sun was soon to come up, I started my day early. I could hear the waves splashing on the cabin top and decided it was to wet and cold to open the hatch. I lit the stove and made a cup of coffee.

I did not like getting an unwanted shower every time I opened the hatch. So I fastened an extra jib along the starboard rail. It helped keep some of the waves off the cabin hatch.

Today’s position put me half way to Hawaii. 2,500 miles to go. It took six weeks to get this far and I estimate it will take four weeks for the second half. I an now directly south of Los Angles. Panama is directly south of Miami.

It seems that I have to pump too much water out every day. I looked for leaks in the hull, but found none, except for a possible small leak in the bow. The beams for the outriggers go through the hull. They are constantly working and let some water in. The joints in the decks are becoming loose, creating more small leaks.

While eating lunch, Salty came in with a flying fish. Dropped it at my feet, looked up at me and mewed, as if to say "look what I found." Later she came in with a large squid. She was not hungry but tried to eat it anyhow.

Saturday, April 11, 1970, Apollo 13 left for the moon. They can make one loop around the world while I do six miles at best. They are in the future while I am in the past.

Radio signals come in very clear. I have no trouble hearing the news.

There are only a few birds around now. One found some food near the boat and landed by it. At the same time a dolphin saw it and leaped out of the water in front of the bird. I could not tell which one got the food, but it was gone.

Flying fish leap out of the water in schools now. Before, it was one once in a while. Sea life is very different in mid ocean.

Apollo 13 was more than half way to the moon when the craft was shaken by an explosion. So their mission is no longer go.

For me, there was very light winds. This was a welcome relief after several days of heave seas. I could open the hatch and not get a face full of water. I was able to feel relaxed for the first time in days. The air was cool and smelled good. I hung the bedding out to dry which has been wet for several days now.

I often think of life below the surface that is not visible to us. When something jumps out of the water, we look at it in amazement to its beauty. I wish this was a glass bottom boat to view all that is going on below.

As another day came to an end, the big hot orange sun was cooled off as it sank into the ocean that was off the bow. Behind me, the moon stepped out of the sea and climbed into the clear night sky. I laid on the deck to watch the show. It was great to be at sea. The sea was made for me and this is where I belong.

Cruising alone at sea is more enjoyable now that during the first 30 days. I have adjusted to this slow pace of life and living in cramped quarters which no longer seem cramped. I have more confidence in the boat and don’t worry about the wind and the waves as much anymore. Liki Tiki Too takes care of me.

My day starts before sunrise, just as the stars are clearing from the sky. First I check the cabin compass for direction which is usually OK. Then I open the hatch and look around outside. If I get a face full of water, it is going to be a bad day, if not, a good day. First chore on deck is pumping the bilge. In the aft cockpit, I brush my teeth in salt water. Then check the main compass and sails. Make adjustments if necessary.

With chores done, I sit at the stern and watch the rising sun put on its show of colors. The sea does its part by making the bright colors dance around. Watching the waves roll by is a never ending fascination.

Salty usually follows me out on deck, but sometimes she goes ahead looking for fish and squid. Her job is cleaning the deck so there is no dead smelling fish laying around.

When the sun is clear of the water, I go back to the main cabin for breakfast which is a can of fruit juice, coffee and crackers. Can of bake beans should the mood strike me.

I read for a while in the main cabin. I have two wooden boxes of paperback books. When finish reading one, I throw it overboard. Every little bit over the side gives me more room inside. About 9 AM, I go aft to take sights to fix my morning position. The sun at that time gives a more accurate position. I am always anxious to know how far I have come the last 24 hours. I always think the boat traveled more that it did. The average speed is 3 to 4 knots or 80 to 90 miles a day.

Sea conditions determined what I would do that day. Mild days were for washing cloths, taking pictures, drying things out and making repairs. Bad days I stayed below as much as possible to keep dry. Spent most of the time reading, fixing meals and sleeping. On very bad days, I would sit in the aft hatch in a ball. The space is cramped, but the boat rides smoother and it is quitter.

Just before sundown, I eat supper and again sit at the stern to watch the show in the sky of the stars slowly appear. I often think about people who live in the city. Some never get to enjoy the relaxing feeling of a sunset. They are always fighting living and working environments. Their relaxing moment is a TV set. Most people do not know there are other ways to live. Living in a dugout canoe is not he only way to live either, but it has broken me from the past.

During the night, I get up two or three times to check compass, sails, and pump the bilge. I have no trouble going back to sleep after each check.

All night, heavy seas rolled over Liki Tiki Too. I had to bail the water out every two hours. Waves would slam into the cabin and spray water all over the inside. Water would come through small cracks in the hatch and ports. I hung a towel beside my bunk. When waves spray inside the cabin, I would dry by face off and go back to sleep. The wet salty blankets did not bother me.

During the night, the wind shifted from the north to the NE. The boat can go west, running down wind. The seas feel much softer while running. When it became light enough to see, there were huge swells coming from the north that are long and far apart. From the NE, waves were short and steep.

When I found the morning position, I was excited. The boat covered 110 miles the last 24 hours. The second best day of the trip.

Late morning, off the stern, there was smoke on the horizon. Soon the ship came toward me. As it passed, it was a US Navy reconnaissance ship, Sound Knot. They tried to talk with a loud speaker, but I could not hear. I was so excited over seeing another ship, I didn’t know what to do. The excitement was more than I could stand. I quickly wrote another letter.

They were dragging a lot of lines as they passed. Up ahead they stopped with all the lines pulled in. I sailed under their stern and dropped the mainsail. The aft rail was lined with people just staring at me, not saying anything. The Captain was on the bridge and asked where I was from and where I was going. He may have wondered what was that thing I was on. He also asked if I need I need anything, food or water. It made me feel good to say no. I seemed to be well organized. I then threw a letter to the ship. It missed, so the message did not get through. The Captain said, I will give your position to the Coast Guard in Honolulu.

I was so excited, I could not talk very good, think or do anything right. I almost fell through he hatch again. Soon the wind blew the ship down on my boat and I was going into the ships prop. The waves were 10 feet high and I thought I was going to loose my outrigger on their rudder. The last time I saw the Captain, he was leaning over the rail watching me go under his ship. Liki Tiki Too must have been 15 feet from the ships prop when they gave it full speed ahead. Liki Tiki Too shot out from under the ship and they went north. I raised sail and went west.

This was the first time in weeks I had the sail down. For some reason, I had trouble getting the sail up. After several tries I made it, but I wondered if I was getting weak and did not know it? If I fall overboard again, would I have strength to pull myself on board? There wasn’t much I could do about it.

At night, I try to leave part of the hatch open. It lets fresh air through and also I can hear the sounds of the wind and waves outside, which I feel is important. During the night an odd situation was going on outside. The boat was speeding through the water with no splashing or banging. I could hear the water rush past the hull. I went on deck to find out what was going on. The moon was shining through the light overcast. The wind was blowing hard. I could see the giant swells, but the water on the swells looked calm. No short steep waves. This is ideal sailing, but it isn’t normal. I then wondered if there was going to be a price to pay for this speed and calm water. Were we going to broach and Liki Tiki Too lay on its side? Should I reef and slow the boat down? What is wrong with having ideal seas? I went back to bed, after a while, the banging started again and I was able to go back to sleep.

I was wishing Apollo 13 would land next to Liki Tiki Too, but the landing was in the South Pacific. There is lots of time to daydream.

The giant waves are 15 feet now with there tops crashing down the back side. Liki Tiki Too has become a submarine. Breakers roll over her like nothing was there. I took down the mainsail because all the banging was making me nervous. The boat was going slower, but I could relax a little easier.

For several days now, I had to stay inside the closed up cabin. Today was my birthday and I ate a 2 lb. ham that was given to me by some friends.

Under jib and foresail only, I covered 75 miles today.

Having to spend more time inside the cabin, I did house cleaning. More food and unnecessary supplies went over the side.

I am anxious to get this trip over with. So this afternoon I raised the mainsail to get more speed. Then I sat in the aft hatch where it is quiet to read. There was a sharp crack.. I jumped out of the hatch only to be meet by a falling mast which landed on my shoulder. Liki Tiki Too jibed for the first time on this voyage. The boom came around and hit the running backstay that pulled the mast over.

I quickly pulled the sail on board to prevent any more damage. I then added a temporary forestay and pulled the mast back up on its broken stub. It wobbled around, but anything is better than nothing to hang canvas.

After everything was squared away on deck, I made a permanent forestay. One problem, I needed to get it to the top of the mast. The problem, how to get it up there. I could not climb in this wild seas. I sat looking at the problem for a long time, then it came to me. Use the backstay as a guide or trolley to slide it up. It worked. I had the two ends in my hand and worked the line until it reached the top. Then I put one end through the spliced eye of the other end. Pulling on the free end, the line was choked around the top of the mast. I think I can use the mainsail as normal now. The winds are too strong, I should have used it earlier.

I was forcing the boat and putting a heavy strain on everything. If the mast did not break, an outrigger could have broken which could have been the end. The mast is fixable. Honolulu is only 1,200 miles away. I don’t want a major accident now.

My critics said the outriggers would rip off in the waves. Next was the pintle and gudgeons. They are made of wood. Chain plates are made of wood. Dacron rope is used for stays and shrouds. This was non-traditional and people said it would not work.

Gale force winds are blowing waves so high, I shutter looking at them. Sometimes the boat doesn’t make it over the top and gets buried in a crashing wave. I only go on deck to pump the bilge and stay below for fear of being washed overboard. Everything is under control, but it makes me nervous. With the jib and foresail, we are doing 90 miles a day. Sometimes I think the sails should come down, but the for foresail is spilling a lot of wind. The self-steering works good and I haven’t touched it for many days.

The cramped quarters and bad weather are getting to me. Every time Liki Tiki Too goes under a wave, I get sprayed inside the cabin. Trying to break the monotony, I sat at the stern. After four stinging waves hit me, I went below. I had no choice but to live with it. Only 960 miles to go. During one of my nightly boat checks, I saw the lights of a ship going east. I had no lights and it would not do much good. My boat was below the top of the waves most of the time. They could not see me on radar because the waves were almost as high as the mast. The blimps on their screen are waves to them.

The gale force winds is still raging and my little boat is still part submarine. I seem to have adjusted and don’t mind the wild seas as much. Salty may not agree on that. This morning I was sitting at the stern and Salty asleep under the tiller. A breaker came over the stern and we both jumped. Salty jumped over the side, grabbing the main boom. Her hind feet were dipping in the ocean. I quickly got her back on board. She made it this far, I want her to make it the rest of the way.

Only a few birds were visible the last two weeks. Today I saw a different kinds and the number of birds seem to be greater. A sign that we are getting closer to land. 600 miles to go.

During the night, I was waken with rain drops tapping on the cabin top with a steady pattern. Opening the hatch a little, lighting was flashing through the black night sky, but no wave were coming on board. The wind had died down to about 10 knots. It was the end of two weeks of gale force winds. I went back to sleep, happy we made it through the storm.

I was up before sunrise. The rain had stopped. The hatch was open and the air warmer than the last few days. I could feel it in my bones that today was going to be a good day. I made a hot cup of coffee while waiting for the sun to start the day. The reds, oranges and yellows soon pushed the blackness back and the sun warmed the air even more.

The first thing was to take a bath with soap on the outrigger. Then wash cloths and hang bedding out to dry. Wired up the running lights with new batteries. I continued to do little things to be ready for my arrival. I was getting excited now, 420 miles to go.

I wondered if the outboard would ever run again. It was under water a great deal of the time. Took the cover off and let it dry in the sun. Wiped it down the best I could. Found only one problem, the throttle was frozen. I pulled on the starter cord anyhow. After a few pulls, it started. I was surprised. It ran for a while and quit. The gas might be bad. It would not start again.

As the sun settled in the west, I lay in the bunk with the hatch open, watching the stars slowly appear in the heavens overhead thinking. Soon this trip will be over. I am anxious to arrive but do not really want to stop sailing. Could Liki Tiki Too go another 5,000 miles to Guam. My goal was Hawaii and I am almost there. It would be fun to explore the Pacific Islands. I better save that dream for the future. But why? Why put off a dream?

The sun rays streamed in through the open hatch and warmed the cabin. The waves were calmer now, less than 10 feet high. The wind is out of the NE. Perfect sailing weather. After the morning chores were done, I went below for breakfast. Salty came in with her usual morning catch of flying fish and squid. I gave her some milk which she loves. She can’t get enough of it.

While finishing the hot cup of coffee, I was wondering if the mainsail should go up. The boat has been sailing good with the foresail and jib. There is still plenty of wind. But what I really need is some more pictures. A few days from now it will be all over.

For taking self portraits, I used a heavy duty "C" clamp that could be clamped to any part of the boat. On the clamp was mounted a double swivel joint on which the camera was mounted. This morning I mounted the Nikon’s underwater camera on the outrigger. From the camera shutter, I strung a fishing line that was used to trip the shutter. Salty had to help by playing with it then run along the boat on the railing. For he next couple of hours I took pictures of waves breaking against the stern and I in the background. I would wait until a wave broke in front of the camera, then pulled the string to trip the shutter.

My thoughts were back to raising the mainsail. The mast wobbled on the broken stub. I haven’t seen Salty for a long time now, so I checked inside the rolled up sail to see if she was inside. I found her there once before. Up went the main and Liki Tiki Too seemed to fly through the water. I then sat aft keeping an eye on everything. I did not like the way the boat was acting. The broken mast was leaning further out over the out rigger which was sinking deeper into the water. I wondered why Salty was not around, where is she? I called her. She did not come as usual. A fear went up inside me, the boat was acting funny. I could not take it any longer, so down came the mainsail.

I went below calling Salty. She always comes on the first or second call. Where is she. I went searching calling Salty all the time. I looked in every corner of the boat. It was hard to believe, but I had to. Salty is not with me anymore. She was the only company I had. I talked to her all the time. No longer would she bring in fish all excited and no longer would she be playing with my pencil while working navigation problems. She was a pest then, now I am going to miss her. Neither is she going to curl up in my lap while I sit and read. If Liki Tiki Too was having problems, I would hurry about the deck getting things in order. Salty would grab my legs, wanting to play. Her lack of fear relaxed me from the tension of the moment. The boat was not the same. This was the saddest day of the trip.

All night the wind blew lightly and the giant swells rolled gently by. I tossed and turned all night. It was hard to believe that Salty would not return. I know it was just a cat, but I was on an island world so to speak and all the little things become very important.

Dawn pushed aside another night as I raised the mainsail. Taking a morning sight, I found we did only 50 miles the last 24 hours. The slowest day’s run in a long time. 300 hundred miles to go.

The radio was damp from the salt air and I have to put it in the sun every time I want to use it. After it dried out, I was able to pick up radio stations from Hilo on the big island. Listening to Hawaiian music put me in an anxious mood to arrive. The music really sounds good. Now it is the voice of the islands that call me to comfort and rest.

Before dawn, the wind shifted to the east. We were at the latitude of Honolulu and did not want to go any further north. Liki Tiki Too does not sail by itself down wind. It will only quarter. I tried steering, but after several hours, that got tedious. Then I decided to go NW until sundown. Then change course and go SW all night. It will take longer, but I don’t have to steer.

The morning position put me 230 miles from Honolulu and 110 miles from Maui. My planed course will put me 20 miles north of the Maui by morning. To keep my position in check, I took sights all day.

This afternoon, the radio picked up stations from Honolulu. Overhead I saw two airplanes. They came from the west and veered off to the NE. I looked for any sighting of land but saw none. There are lots of birds around.

The sun closed out another prefect day on the Pacific Ocean. I jibed the boat and sailed on the starboard tack for the first time sense Cocos Island. For some reason, the waves banged and hammered the boat. I trimmed sail and adjusted the self-steering and could not stop the banging. I did not think the seas were that rough for all the noise. By midnight I gave up and went to sleep.

When I woke up, the sun was shining bright and Liki Tiki Too was moving right along. Also I noticed the bilge water was on the wrong side. The boat was healed the wrong way. Not understanding, I dismissed it. The first chore on deck is pumping the bilge. While pumping, I was looking over the side and kept thinking something is wrong but kept on pumping. Then I saw what wasn’t there and should be. The starboard outrigger was missing. I looked aft, nothing in sight. Then I looked forward and Maui was less than five miles off the bow. If I slept much longer Liki Tiki Too would have been on the rocks. I took down all the sails and went below to have breakfast and to think the situation out.

Looking at the charts, Kahalui Harbor was 20 miles ahead. I wanted to stop at Honolulu that is 110 miles away. With one outrigger, the boat was no longer stable under sail. The outboard motor was now needed. I changed the spark plugs and used a fresh tank of gas. The motor started with very little effort. I raised the foresail only and motored sailed along the Maui coast.

The winds that were light earlier have now turned strong. Liki Tiki Too is in a hurry to arrive. The tiller was heavy and it was all I could do to keep it under control. It was no longer stable and for the first time during the voyage, I became afraid of the boat. It is possible to roll over. I decided to stop at Kahalui.

Along the rocky coast, the dark blue of the water was giving way to light blue. Approaching the harbor entrance, the color turned a light green which began to scare me. I don’t know why, except sudden changes of any kind in an unstable craft seemed to scare me. I was not sure if I wanted to enter. I had to but my fear behind and go in.

Monday, May 4, 1970 at 2:12 PM, Liki Tiki Too entered through the breakwater of Kahalui Harbor on the island of Maui. Inside the harbor, I sailed up on the beach and Liki Tiki Too was tied to a coconut tree.

I raised the yellow quarantine flag, Panama flag and the US flag. A Coast Guard vessel notified customs of my arrival. They never came so I went out looking for them. They stamped my passport and that was it.

Later in the afternoon, newspaper people arrived for the story which was in the papers the next day.

Adventure Photos - Motivation Tool Chest or TOC

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Copyright 2003 by Robert L. Webb
Goose Creek, South Carolina, USA