Feb. 25, 2000; 20 days since departure--Approaching the Search Area

Source: Sam Low

"This is the exciting part of any voyage," Nainoa says, "landfall is imminent. We all now have to be very alert."

Yesterday was the first warm day in several of days: how great it is to be warm and dry! Chad Baybayan and I sleep in the No. 2 aft puka (compartment) and over the last two nights, our sleeping pads have been seemingly awash with seawater, which comes through growing holes in the canvas half-tents. We sleep fully clothed in our foul weather gear. In the warmth of the morning on Feb. 24, Thursday, we commiserate: "I'll tell you what," says Chad, "they're having canoe races in my puka, and I don't want to disturb them, so I'm sleeping top-side tonight."

The winds have abated since they reached near gale force on Wednesday, and the canoe now rides smoothly, although the swells are still formidable. At a sunset crew meeting last night, Nainoa tells us we are now entering the search area for the Hawaiian Islands. "We are in a really good place to begin to search for the Hawaiian Islands. Tomorrow (Feb. 25), will be the first day that we might see land. It's unlikely, but it's possible, so you should all be alert."

At sunset on Feb. 24, Shantell's estimates our position tob 16 degrees 7 minute north, 31 miles east of our course line. Later, the navigators on board took the altitude of Hokupa'a, the North Star, and came up with latitude estimates from 16 to 17 degrees. Later in the evening Nainoa and the others measure the altitude of Miaplacidus in the south, a star crossing the meridian very low to the horizon, hence providing a more accurate latitude estimate than Hokupa'a.

"I got a latitude of 17 degrees 30 minutes N from Miaplacidus," says Ka'iulani Murphy. "Now that we are approaching the search area, it is important for all of us to get accurate latitude fixes," Nainoa tells the students. "You must always assume the worse--that the skies will be cloudy tomorrow night and we will be forced to dead reckon from tonight's measurements. So you want to get the best position possible now."

"We could make Hawaiian landfall very soon, because South Point is only 18 degrees 55 minutes N, only 85 miles north from our current latitude, based on measuring Miaplacidus. But we are probably too far east to see it," says Nainoa.

Our plan is to follow our reference course to 20.5 degrees N and then turn west to search for land. Now that we are within the search area of Hawai'i, extremely accurate steering in imperative, so the sweep is put in the water and a navigator is stationed nearby to make sure the person steering stays on course.

We steer 'Akau, North, and with the current and wind pushing us westward, we make Haka Ho'olua (N by W). We steer mainly by Hokupa'a, the North Star, but when smudges of clouds cover the star, we use the pointers at the front end of the Na Hiku, the Big Dipper, or other stars, to stay on course.

During the beginning of the 6-10 watch, the sky is mostly clear. Our companions--Hanaiakamalama, the Southern Cross; the False Cross; Canis Major; and other constellations in the southern sky--have now slipped behind us noticeably to arc lower across the sky. Na Hiku rises high off our starboard bow--her handle--rotating out of the sea as our watch goes on, its pointers aiming at Hokupa'a, our constant steering guide. Tava is at the sweep much of the time--the trusted steersman wrestling with the weather helm. The canoe tries to turn into the wind and bucks against the swells, coming from the starboard side. With Tava's skillful managment of the sweep, Hokupa'a remains steady just to the starboard side of the mast.

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