Feb. 16, 2000; 12 days since departure

Yesterday at sunset Tava mans the steering sweep. Chad stands next to him carefully assessing Hokule'a's speed. Together they hunt for the most efficient angle to the wind. We are once again steering the canoe around the clock, seeking to head as close as possible into the wind that keeps shouldering us west of our desired course line. The wind blows from Noio Ko'olau, 3 houses north of east (NE by E). We would much prefer a wind from Hikina or east, or better yet south of east, so that we may move back toward our ideal reference course. At sunrise on February 15th we were 60 miles west of our course line. At sunrise today we are 76.5 miles west of it.

As night falls, the glow of the screen of a computer perched atop Hokule'a's radio box indicates a big change aboard the canoe. On all four previous legs of the voyage to Rapa Nui the computer has been aboard the escort boat. On this leg, to make it easier for us to carry out various educational programs, we have moved it aboard. Yesterday the demand was so heavy that the screen remained lit from 8am to 8pm. Chad wrote and sent off a feature article for the Honolulu Advertiser, Bruce sent a complex memo concerning the logistics of the upcoming 25th anniversary celebration, we processed and sent out photos as well as a daily report and an internet article. The system works well as long as we have clear skys and light seas. In heavy weather we will have to cut back on our transmission.

At about 8pm mid-level clouds slide over us, eventually erasing the stars from 3/4 of the sky. "it's a good sign," says Nainoa, " because the clouds are moving from due east so its possible we will see the wind shift back east but its hard to tell when."

During the rest of the evening, however, we continue to try to steer into a stubborn wind that flows from a direction a few house further north than we would like-and we often hear the familiar command "single up" from Nainoa-signifying that we remove the bridles from the main and mizzen so they are held in trim by only a single line-called a bronco-really to be brailed in quickly should a threatening squall pass over us. It is a command that we have heard countless times in the last eleven days of changeable weather and squalls. At sunrise today, February 16th, with the decks sheened by yet another rain squall, we learn that our efforts at the steering sweep have paid off. The navigators report we are 76.5 miles west of the reference course today so we have only "lost" a mile and a half since sunset. "We are 723 miles from Tikehau and 1,667 from Hawai'i ," Shantell reports. Factoring in information provided by their dead reckoning estimates and an early morning observation of Holopuni ( Kochab) they estimate our latitude to be 2 degrees 58 minutes south.