This is way overdue, but as with all things, I was overtaken by events (OBE).
Some statistics: 25 days at sea, 2,926.5 nautical miles (by the log), 8 hours on the engine. We used every sail in the inventory except the storm jib and the trysail (phew)!
We left Kauai on September 10th. We could have left earlier, but strong trades made for heavy seas and we thought "Why start off the trip getting pounded, we'll have enough of that." Of course you can't leave on Friday. That's an old sailor's superstition.
For the first two and a half days I was uncomfortably seasick. That's pretty sad coming from a guy who is out on a dive boat pretty much every day. I guess the long ocean swell had it in for me. I could stand my watches (except one during the mid afternoon), but I wasn't eating or any other digestive functions. Finally in the middle of the third day of misery, one of my crew mates offered his bottle of meclizine tablets. That did the trick and I was normal and hungry again.
It was pretty much day in and day out from then on. We'd sail to weather in moderate winds. We had one day when the wind was absolutely still and we motored over a sea that looked like blue molasses. At sunset the colors were unbelievable (and unrecordable). The sea was lighter than the sky and it lent itself to an eerie, alien world. Just a few hours later, the wind filled in again and we were sailing in light air, hoping that this would be our time to turn Northeast and towards our goals of San Francisco.
Alas, we were thwarted, again and again. Every time we thought we had enough wind to make our Eastings, we'd get headed and we'd have to head North again. Then the wind shifted again. We were all stunned and amazed to be tacking in the middle of the Pacific. On day 10 the engine started making a disturbing knocking noise. We couldn't locate where it was coming from, but it sounded like the cylinder block. We checked the fuel, the valves, the engine mounts to no avail. We made phone calls to California on the Iridium sat-phone, but the Universal/Kaboda people couldn't help much either. In the end we decided that we shouldn't use the engine except in a dire emergency which fortunately never happened. Much later I found out that there was simply water -- so much water that you couldn't see a line between the fuel and water in the separator.
I remember one day where we ghosting along using the aging drifter when I pointed out a line of clouds behind us that looked a little ominous. I wasn't all that concerned but the captain chose to take down the sail. As we're dropping the great green beastie, 25 knots of wind came up and tries to kill it. Fortunately it was down far enough that it didn't turn the bag into a rag.
I remember Christine cooking some really great meals while at sea. I also remember eating a lot less than I normally would. I remember running out of store-bought bread and baking bread for the first time in years. It was great! The first loaf didn't last a day.
Communications were a problem on the trip. Normally we'd check in with the Pacific Seafarers Net everyday and they'd post our position on
YOTREPS. This trip, however, radio propagation was so bad that we couldn't hear any land based stations for more than a week! Add to that our engine problems -- we didn't run the engine at all after day 10 -- and we were a pretty stealthy boat for most of the trip. There were a lot of anxious people on shore, let me tell you!
3 days out of San Francisco we were screaming along at 7 and 8 knots. The water changed from the deep Pacific blue to the greenish murk of the Northern Pacific coast. We were getting close. We also saw a lot more ship traffic. On the last day, we ate our last apple. Our breath steamed as we said our good mornings. Hot tea and cocoa were the beverages of the day. As we passed Point Bonita, we drank a toast to Pete Sutter, sad that he was gone, and happy that we'd finally brought
Wild Spirit home. We still didn't have a working engine so we sailed all the way, under the Golden Gate Bridge, hung a left into Richardson Bay and ghosted into the slip in Sausalito with barely a ripple in the water.
Post Script
There was not much rest for me. We chatted a bit with friends, but as soon as I could, I was cleaning up and packing for my flight to Las Vegas. I was already 2 days late to the DEMA conference. I booked a seat on the last flight out of Oakland. Then I showered (with HOT water) for the first time in 3 weeks, shaved and made myself presentable. I said my goodbyes, already ready for the next journey, hopped on the ferry to San Francisco and was on my way.
Wow, what a great day! Calm conditions, no current, clear viz. 
All at the same time! The first dive was at the Corsair [109fsw/0:13]. You could see the plane clearly from the surface. Neal found not one, but two eels wrapped around each other under the starboard wing. Tremain had a little trouble clearing his ears, but he hovered above the dive site like he was laying on a table. That's the way to do it; don't abort the dive, just practice good buoyancy control and stay with the group! On the way up, you could see the NoriZ, you could almost touch it. 
The second dive was at Spitting Caves. The current was Diamond Head, we could see the bottom while we got ready. We were hoping for a repeat appearance of one of the Hawaiian Monk Seals that Chris spotted yesterday. But even before that, as soon as we were on the bottom, we spotted a White Tip Shark in one of the caves. Just a few minutes later there was a Commerson's Frogfish hanging on the reef for his photo-op. 
