After one last walk on land for Joe, Uki and me (while Nino and Mark heroically volunteered to guard the boat), the officials came on board for the usual departure routine: Immigration, National Park, and the Navy. They took a couple of photos to document that our boat was seaworthy — or at least that’s what I assume the photos were for.

Soon after, we lifted anchor and, with heavy hearts, said goodbye to Isabela. We could easily have stayed longer… but once you start organizing your checkout and pick a departure date, you’re pretty much committed to it.

This departure felt very different from the one at the start of our Atlantic crossing. There were no crowds waving us off, no music playing. Just a couple of fellow sailors on nearby boats wishing us fair winds. Quiet and calm — much like the island we were leaving behind.

With almost no wind at first forecasted, we had mentally prepared ourselves for 2-3 days of motoring until we crossed the ITCZ and got far enough south to reach the trade winds.

So we hummed along the coast of Isabela under engine… and once we were far enough away, we put out a fishing line. Not long after, we spotted a wild fish frenzy — tuna launching themselves out of the water, a bit like popcorn in a pan— and decided to help our luck a little by altering course.

Result: one very respectable yellowfin tuna.
And several very happy boys.

Later that evening, with a little support from the “main chef” on board, the crew prepared Tuna Pasta alla Brodie Moss — a simple but surprisingly delicious recipe they had discovered while watching his videos online.

Along with the fishing luck came some wind. With the full main and Code 0 up, we were suddenly gliding along beautifully at 7–8 knots… until Mark called me by my first name (which is rarely a good sign), followed by the dreaded words:

“This doesn’t look good.”

The Code 0 had started to delaminate above and below an older repair — one that had been done after a previous delamination caused by too much tension in the torsion cable.

Remember the episode when we had to replace one of the cables mid-Atlantic to hold the bowsprit up? A few days ago we replaced the second one with Dyneema to make sure everything was solid before heading into the South Pacific. Mark had extended the fixing point along the torsion line, but maybe a few millimeters were missing somewhere — or maybe it was simply age and frequent use catching up with it.

Luckily, Mark spotted the problem before the sail ripped completely — which would almost certainly have happened at the traditional “1:00 a.m. bluewater disaster hour.”

So down came the Code 0 and we continued under Genoa instead. Still moving along nicely at about 6.5 knots — just not quite as fast and not with the same amount of style! 

Which means we now have a sail repair project at sea ahead of us. Fingers crossed we have enough materials on board. Otherwise we’ll hope for spinnaker winds… and if necessary we even have a second Genoa that we could put up until Tahiti. That option only requires one small detail: one of us climbing the mast.

All in all, no real drama — just the kind of things that come with bluewater cruising on a budget.

And if anyone happens to come across a “good-as-new” used Code 0 for a Nautitech Open 40— preferably already waiting for us in Tahiti — please let us know.

Which brings me to our planned destination… and the reason we currently have no crew. But maybe I’ll write about that tomorrow. After all, we have many days ahead together — and hopefully this will be the first and last damage report of the trip.