Update: 9th of March, 2024 📍Dromana Bay, Port Philip, Melbourne, AUS

After a longer-than-anticipated stay in Melbourne, we are on our way again! Our next planned stop is Apollo Bay, approximately 15 hours of sailing away… so I’m departing this afternoon to catch the slack tide at The Rip (Port Phillip Heads) and carry on overnight for a daylight arrival.

Our stay in Melbourne was much longer than planned because I arrived rather exhausted after our passages (from Sydney around the southeast capes), and Windfola’s engine was in need of some serious love. While in Melbourne, I also had the opportunity to travel north by train and visit some friends in New South Wales that I’d had to speed past to catch weather windows down the coast. Zia and I even got to do some camping! I also came down with a bad bug and spent a week very sick in bed… I haven’t done the best job of balancing passage making and rest, so it was a big reminder to me that I need to take better care of the skipper in future. 😅

I gave a talk and taught an Intro to Inboard Diesel Engine Workshop for women aboard Windfola for members of RMYS, all to raise money for their upcoming program to get care-experienced young people out on the water! So stoked they’ve taken our message to heart and are finding a way to provide more opportunities for these young folks in their own community.

As we sail westward, I am always looking for opportunities to connect with state care-related or at-risk youth-supporting charities and their young people. If you know any people or organizations working in those spaces, please reach out to me!

Next up: Apollo Bay on March 10th, 2024

GOAL: West Australia by 1 April, 2024 ⛵️

Tasman Crossing: Decent wind and looking forward to a good night of sleep 😴

This post was originally shared exclusively and directly with our subscribers during our passage across the Tasman.

All is well with us, and getting better with each passing hour. Just in the past two hours, the wind has become much more steady — exactly what we needed before another long night at sea.

The wind angle has changed slightly and I can no longer hold quite as much north in our course to angle up to Norfolk Island before turning west toward mainland Australia. The main advantage of that course was that there was supposed to be more wind along that latitude, but another advantage is that it would give us more sea room away from any weather coming up from the southern ocean.

Both advantages are largely moot now. The forecast has changed and there won’t be more wind at that latitude, and there doesn’t appear to be anything bad coming from the south in the next seven days. So, for now, my main priority is to keep the boat moving at a speed greater than 4 kt/hr. With the slow wind speeds we are experiencing (7-11 knots), and the angle of sail (nearly dead downwind at 165-170 AWA), this is actually pretty challenging. By heading up slightly, we’ll hold a slightly faster, stable, and more comfortable downwind angle of 150-160 AWA, with a slightly more WNW heading.

If I was less tired, we could go faster; I’d swap our headsail for my 165 genoa or even put up our symmetrical spinnaker.

But, I was troubleshooting an issue with our AIS transceiver the past few days and couldn’t verify the fix until I saw another ship… checking to be certain it appeared on our chartplotter (multifunction display, or MFD). Since I wasn’t certain I could trust the MFD to show dangerous targets, I have been setting alarms to wake me every hour since we passed the northern capes. (Before that, I slept on a beanbag in the cockpit in full kit and woke every 20-30 minutes.) This morning around sunrise I saw a cargo ship on the display, verifying that the MFD is showing AIS targets properly. I cannot express my joy and relief! I’ll be able to sleep in longer increments tonight and should feel a lot better tomorrow.

A number of other interesting things have happened, but I don’t have the brainpower to write any further this evening. Since the sun is sinking below the horizon, it’s time for us to go to bed.

More soon!
-e & z & w xo

P.S. Zia is much perkier today but has yet to toilet. She is eating and drinking normally, so I’m sure it’s just a matter of time now and she’ll slip into her routine at sea. I have her favourite treat (dried Possyum sticks, kiwi as!) on standby in the cockpit for the moment she finally does her business.

Tasman Crossing: The Morning After Our First Night Sailing to Australia

This post was originally shared to our subscribers during our passage across the Tasman.

An uneventful but soulful first night at sea. I dozed off and on all night in the cockpit while listening to the soothing sound of water bubbling past the hull. The crescent moon played hide and seek behind the clouds, while the stars winked and blinked dimly like light through the weave of a blanket thrown over the world. It felt cold despite layers and layers of clothing. I even wrapped a knit scarf around my neck and head under the hood of my jacket. Hopefully today we will see the sun.

The wind is like a fickle child: it has mostly been tapering off since midnight, but then suddenly springs to life again to fill our sails and swing our heading by 20 or 30 degrees. The forecast suggests our wind will die soon this morning and we’ll begin a 24+ hour stretch of motoring. I’ll be sad to lose the soothing sounds of the ocean speaking its language to us… but with such fickle wind all night, I kept the electric autopilot driving instead of the windvane, so now the batteries could use the engine recharge. (Especially if the sun isn’t going to come out!)

Zia has been snoozing peacefully in a nest of blankets down below. She seems unfazed so far by our return to sea.

I am very tired and not able to focus on anything but the sailing yet. I haven’t gotten sick at all — a first for me, when returning to sea, and a very welcome change.

Thank you for all the loving messages and support. I don’t have access to cellular data anymore but will stay in touch this way and vía other satellite communication mediums. More soon. Please wish us wind and sunshine.

Returning to the Salt Life

The wind is howling outside, but this 22-knot breeze is nothing compared to the weather we’ve endured for the past 48 hours. Anchored securely in the sand of Coralee Bay on Great Mercury Island, Windfola has been swinging from northwest to southwest and back again in sustained winds of 26-32 knots. (And those are the conditions we arrived in, so you can imagine what the sailing and anchoring was like.) Last night, gusts of 35 knots hit us beam on during ill-timed swings. But we are safe, and thankful for our 15 kilogram Rocna anchor and the catenary created by 39 meters of 8mm chain in just 6 meters of water.

Numbers, numbers, numbers.

As I’ve studied and planned for this journey, my head sometimes seems like a jumble of facts and figures. What are the forecast wind speeds, swell heights, and periods? How many nautical miles in each direction to a safe harbor? How much water and fuel do we have left? How many seconds between flashes of the signal light on that point of land? Depths, weather, fuel, water, charts — my mind is full of these numbers because I treat every sail as seriously as a trans-oceanic passage and prepare accordingly.

My high-tech bunk-drying system.

But this sail is just the prologue to a much greater journey ahead of us, and it is probably my study of the 2,800 nm course I’ve planned that has filled my head with so many details. (More on that soon.)

For now, we are dodging gales along a coast we’ve traveled twice before, destined for a place we’ve not yet been: Auckland. Windfola’s new rig and improvements are holding up well and it’s been nice to let her fly faster than ever. My feet (and Zia’s paws) haven’t touched the earth in four days, and I have eaten the same legume-based dish out of my pressure cooker for every major meal since we departed five days ago. The ice in the cooler has all melted away, there’s condensation under the mattress in my bunk, and there’s only occasionally a cell phone signal. With no heat aboard, Zia and I are snuggling up to a hot water bottle twice a day just to stay warm. And, I couldn’t be happier about it all!

Windfola woke me up last night in the rowdy weather, thrumming a beat with an errant halyard that I’d forgotten to tie off. I ventured above deck in the chilling midnight air to quiet the line. My body felt alive and strong in the cold, caring for my sailboat under the stars.

That’s the same feeling I had at the helm yesterday as we approached the island. I eased the main in a 32-knot gust, and when I peeked over the dodger to look at the water ahead of us, a wave seemed to leap right out of the sea and collapse on top of me. Freezing cold or soaking wet, nature reminds me that I am small… but I hang on to the helm and that makes me feel powerful.

We’ve returned to the salt life, and I’m in love.

xo & fair winds,
elana, zia, and s/v windfola ⛵️💕29 September, 2020; Coralee Bay, Great Mercury Island, New Zealand

Big Boat Projects For a Big Sailing Project

Sitting in Windfola’s snug interior, I’m staring at a hole in my roof as I write this. It’s a glaring sign of the major work we’ve undertaken since returning to Tauranga three weeks ago, and perhaps the most obvious reason why we’re not sailing right now. Windfola’s mast has been craned out of its through-deck home, and along with her mast have gone all of the cables that hold it in place.

When it comes to our rig — all of the wires and fixtures that hold up the mast — I’ve known for the last 18 months that we were on borrowed time. I’ve done all I can to take it easy while we cruise, never pushing too hard and always reducing sail early when the weather pipes up. I’ve lovingly sat outside in downpours of heavy rain so I could scrub the swages at the ends of the wires, and after letting them dry in the sun, soothed them with smelly, thick Lanacote grease, akin to balm on a baby’s bum. But even the best of TLC could not negate the fact that Windfola’s cables were 17 years old, and that is seven years of hard use beyond their recommended lifespan. They were a ticking clock. And it stopped ticking a week and a half ago.

I’d intended to limp on a bit longer with our mast’s cables, because we have big sailing plans ahead that I hoped would draw a sponsor to fund replacement. I decided to do only one expensive project now: haul Windfola out of the water. To start our upcoming sail we need to be able to travel from port to port on the North Island of New Zealand, but invasive species cling to the bottoms of boats with depleted anti-fouling paint. It had been 16 months since our last bottom repainting in San Diego, and New Zealand harbors won’t permit a boat to enter with a paint job more than six months old (unless they receive a monthly pressure washing). If we wanted to sail on, we had to haul out and repaint.

Fortunately/unfortunately, a rig inspection while we were out of the water revealed that a wire in one of the cables was broken. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when, other wires and cables would break, leaving the mast unsupported in time of need. I made the difficult decision — made easier by a kind price break from a local rig shop — to go ahead and replace all of her wires. I finished her bottom projects, and we dropped a freshly-painted Windfola in the water. The kind and competent folks at Bridge Marina Travelift immediately craned out her mast and rig, and on that rainy morning, I motored her vulnerable, naked body back to a slip in the marina.

I’ve placed blue tarps like giant Band-Aids over the holes in her deck, and now we wait together, unable to sail, while all of her new cables are fabricated. It’s strange how the moment she’s disabled by a project like this, the itch to cast off the dock lines and fly free engulfs my whole body like an allergy-induced rash.

I’m grateful for the kindness here, to be in this community while we undertake such big projects, but I long for the open water and the wind in my hair. I long for freedom. I long for choice. And I mourn their loss, a mourning that unites my heart with those of so many others throughout the world, navigating unanticipated changes that have brought on new and frustrating limitations.

And so, I recenter myself on what I can still do. I can still wake up every day. I can still tell my friends I love them. I can still set goals. I can still dedicate this journey to a purpose: to raise awareness about and hope for foster kids.

Since we can’t safely leave New Zealand, I’ve decided to take a detour in our global circumnavigation by taking on a smaller — but still majorly challenging — circumnavigation this summer, and use the trip to fundraise for a foster care organization. Once Windfola is pieced back together, we’ll set out on this new endeavor, and I couldn’t be more excited for the demanding sail ahead. Setting a goal that will enable us to carry on making a difference has brought me hope in this time of loss, given me purpose when it was all too easy to feel I didn’t have one anymore.

My wish for you right now is that you might center yourself on what gives you purpose in these times, and set that as both your anchor and your light on the horizon. We are in this together, and there is so much we can still do for ourselves and for one another. Turn toward that light, and don’t lose sight of the horizon.

xo & fair winds,
elana, zia, and s/v windfola ⛵️💕25 August, 2020; Tauranga, New Zealand

Winter Cruising in New Zealand, and On a Mission

Here we are, in chilly, wet, wintry New Zealand, the last place we expected to be during peak tropical cruising season! But, like so many people ashore, our plans have changed… changed to the point of having no real plans, but rather, living and taking each day as it comes.

The borders are closed all around us, and while there’s talk of some countries opening, we’d have to hurry through the islands to reach safety when cyclone season begins again in November. And that’s if each country after the next will even permit us to carry on with our itinerary (we not only need Fiji to be open to cruisers, but also the Solomon Islands, Vanuatu, Papua New Guinea, and then Indonesia). It’s safe in New Zealand, the people are kind, and it’s terrifically beautiful, so I’ve decided to take a more conservative course of action and stay here instead of venturing back to the tropics this winter.

The benefit of staying is that if things shut down again in November, we’re in a safe country and Zia has already gone through the expensive importation process. Another benefit: we were going to have to skip Australia, because Zia can only enter if we come directly from New Zealand. Now, if a trans-Tasman bubble opens, we could potentially choose a completely different itinerary, skipping the tropical islands and cruising Australia’s coastline until we reach the Indian Ocean.

In the meantime, I actually do have some plans. Two, in fact, and you can help with both!

1. We are going to do some epic sailing in New Zealand, and see more than most foreign cruisers do. What does that mean? Maybe we will circumnavigate one or both islands! Maybe we will even go to Stewart Island! I haven’t decided yet, and that’s where you can help: let me know where you think we should go! Have a sailor-welcoming friend somewhere you want to connect us with? Drop me a note!

2. I am going to connect with youth, especially foster children and their carers, as much as possible — both here in New Zealand and over Zoom to any other interested folks! I’ve already had the chance to speak about our journey with youth attending Happy Trails For Kids’ virtual Zoom Summer Camp, and speak on their theme, “Imagine . . . You Can!”. Now I’m looking for more opportunities to connect with kids. Do you know of a summer camp looking for speakers? Do you know a classroom, a social worker or foster parent association, or a nonprofit working with foster or at-risk youth? I am even willing to let opportunities in New Zealand decide our sailing itinerary: I will even sail to wherever they are! So, drop me a note and connect me. :)

As always, we couldn’t do this without the backing of our supporters, so please consider signing up to join the journey! For those of you who are already supporters, be on the lookout for new Logs in your inbox soon! Until then, you can stay posted on our day-to-day via our instagram or facebook.

xo & fair winds
elana, zia, and s/v windfola ⛵️💕

📍Mount Maunganui, Tauranga, New Zealand

Landfall in New Zealand!

On December 11th at 6 AM, after 18 days at sea, we made landfall in the Bay of Islands, New Zealand. WOOHOOOO! It has been my dream for two and a half years to complete this leg of our circumnavigation, and even though we limped in with a dead engine, it felt amazing to know we’d made it!

The NZ Coast Guard and customs were really cool about letting us drop anchor in the only bay I felt confident sailing into. We had just come through 70 hours of bad weather with two systems basically back to back, so I hadn’t really slept in days and needed to rest before I could tackle the engine. With our quarantine flag up, I went to sleep for four hours. I awoke to a beautiful, sunny day, and when I stood in the cockpit to take in the scenery, I noticed that a friend boat I hadn’t seen since the Marquesas in July were anchored in the same bay! Since we were under quarantine, we weren’t permitted to visit each other, but it was still reassuring to see friends in our new home.

I spent the rest of the day working on the engine. Yet another impeller had degraded and blocked up the raw water flow through the hoses and my heat exchanger. By the time I put the engine back together, it was dark and I didn’t want to travel the final five nautical miles upriver to the customs quarantine dock until daylight. The next day, we cruised up to the dock and cleared-in. It was an easy process, and since I was the only boat, I didn’t even have to wait long. Two days later, they took Zia away for quarantine.

Lots of things have happened since landfall, and I have so much to share from my last passage since I lost satellite communications and couldn’t write to our supporters. Be on the lookout for new Logs in your inbox soon! Until then, you can stay posted on our day-to-day via our instagram or facebook.

Want to see us keep going? Please consider buying one of our limited edition 2020 calendars! You can enjoy the South Pacific all year long. :) Proceeds will help cover the cost of Zia’s very expensive quarantine fees.

xo & fair winds,
elana, zia, and s/v windfola ⛵️💕31 December, 2019; Opua, Bay of Islands, New Zealand

leaving the Society Islands

We lingered in French Polynesia to see some islands that we’d heard were can’t-miss, and because we did, we got to meet someone who was a huge source of inspiration to me even before I bought Windfola! I am so honored that I got to spend time with Liz Clark (www.swellvoyage.com), and she was not only so encouraging and inspiring, but she gave me so much support via everything a sailor lady needs—a hot shower, delicious plant-based meals, jugs of water, loads of fresh fruit, clean laundry in a real washing machine, and lots and lots of time on super fast wifi. WOW. I can’t even begin to put my gratitude into words… and I am excited to pay it all forward someday to another sailor woman.

Cyclone season starts in just a few days, and it’s imperative that we move west quickly now. The trade winds are finally filling in again, so we plan to depart French Polynesia tomorrow, and then sail fast toward Palmerston in the Cook Islands, Niue (if weather permits), and then on to Minerva Reef to wait for a weather window to Opua, New Zealand. We aren’t permitted to make landfall in NZ before the 23rd of November due to complex biosecurity requirements for importing Zia, but I want to get as close as possible so we can patiently wait out a safe moment to make that last jump.

I’m still feeling nervous about the legs ahead. We have 2100 nautical miles to cover in 28 days. It’s totally doable, but we need the weather to be cooperative. So please put out good vibes to Mother Earth to give us perfect weather conditions.

After we leave French Polynesia, I won’t be able to update my website or social media, but I will use my satellite connection to send regular photos and stories to our subscribers. If you want to hear from us while we’re out there on the ocean and in remote places, please consider becoming a supporter for our circumnavigation. We can only complete this dream if you journey along with us!

xo & fair winds,
elana, zia, and s/v windfola ⛵️💕27 October, 2019; Society Islands, French Polynesia

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leaving Mo'orea

All good things must come to an end… and that’s exactly what’s happening to my visa tomorrow. I’m clearing out now for my departure for the Cook Islands, and if all goes according to plan, my first stop will be Palmerston Island (which has a very interesting history). Time and weather permitting, we’ll head to Niue, and then on to anchor in a reef in the middle of the ocean while we wait for a weather window to New Zealand. Cyclone season technically begins on the first of November, and I imagine we will make landfall in NZ in early- to mid-November. I’m pretty nervous about the next six weeks of sailing, since we have a lot of distance to cover and weather is notoriously tricky between the tropics and New Zealand.

After we leave French Polynesia, I won’t be able to update my website or social media, but I will use my satellite connection to send regular photos and stories to our subscribers. If you want to hear from us while we’re out there on the ocean and in remote places, please consider becoming a supporter for our circumnavigation. We can only complete this dream if you journey along with us!

xo & fair winds,
elana, zia, and s/v windfola ⛵️💕 30 September, 2019; Mo’orea, Society Islands, French Polynesia

leaving at first light tomorrow

At this moment I am belowdecks updating all of you, my friends and loved ones, while my newfound sailseaster, Rachel, is scrubbing the deck and topping off the water in preparation for tomorrow’s departure. I am awed in the face of this generosity, which I have experienced so much lately. From the bottom of my heart (and Windfola’s bilge ;), thank you! Truly, our success and achievements are a result of the love and support of this community.

While I had hoped to depart today by noon, there were still a few minor things to take care and people to say farewell to. It became apparent by 1 PM that I wouldn’t be able to get far enough offshore before dark to feel comfortable for the night, so I’ll be staying here in San Diego for one more night, and leaving as early as I can in the morning.

I hope you’ll join our journey so that I can share the magic of a month at sea with you!

xo & fair winds,
elana, zia, and s/v windfola, 8 May 2019, 3:51 PM PDT

status updates: departing… Tuesday?

Guys, I am so tired! But I am super close to that moment when I’ll untie the lines! Everything was going smoothly and I was aiming to depart over the weekend. But on Saturday morning, I discovered a few issues with the engine (thanks to friends here) and so today was a rush to resolve them. What are these issues? Well, a hole through the boat with a valve on it (a seacock) has a pipe that sends saltwater to the engine to cool it. The seacock was stuck, and wouldn’t close. Trying to remove it bent a shaft on one end, and it still wouldn’t come out! There are legitimate reasons and a whole story behind why it was stuck, but the bottom line is: it has to be fixed and put back in before I go.

But that’s not all…there was a minor coolant leak from an upper reservoir, and the exhaust elbow appeared to have been installed BACKWARDS! To correct and resolve these, all of the coolant needed to be drained from the engine. And then I was told that my heat exchanger was too grimy and needed to be cleaned or replaced before I left, and I was due for an oil change (every 100 engine hours - can you believe it?! so much more frequent than a car). The heat exchanger is full of cleaning vinegar right now, I have more coolant, oil, and fresh gaskets. Tomorrow I will clean out the heat exchanger, reinstall it, reinstall the exhaust elbow (which turned out not to be backwards, just very unique…), fix the coolant leak on the external upper reservoir (a faulty hose clamp), fill the coolant, take the seacock part to a machinist to be fixed, reinstall it, run the engine until the oil is hot, drain the oil and replace the filter, and put in fresh oil. And save the world.

just kidding about that last part. :) thanks for all the love and support, my friends…

xo & fair winds,
elana, zia, and s/v windfola, 5 May 2019