Atlantic Passage

Day 1

Flippin’ Fantastic!  except the part where I smashed my finger in the fridge door.  

Shrimp Boat hauling in the catch

We cast off lines at 9:18am from Beaufort NC. and made the 9:30 bridge opening then the great expanse of the Atlantic.  Dolphins gave us a pass by as we headed out the channel.  Scores of fishermen in boats and some wading, lined the banks.  Just outside the channel a half dozen shrimp boats were trolling, the ones hauling in the nets were swarmed by gulls and pelicans; hundreds!  

It took several hours to round Cape Lookout Shoal; the breakers easily seen warning of impending doom if we venture too close.  

Having cleared the point we headed east per 'Jimmy Cornell’s' advice; he has documented the weather and current pattens worldwide providing cruisers with reliable predictions.  The Gulf Stream ahead 40 miles.  Sunny and pleasant, 66 degrees.   The seas were flat enough for me to cook lunch with ’real food’ putting off the instant soup for another day.  Jim informed me that he had just discovered a stole away… A crab in the cockpit scuppers about as big as your pinky finger nail.  It’s in for a surprise…

Fresh Tuna

We all tried to catch a nap but had little luck.  Bob decide to give it another go when FISH ON was called.  Jim grabbed the rod and started reeling it in.  Bob back on deck took over.  We then dumped some air from the sails to slow our speed:  7 knots with 20 knots winds, gusting to 25.  Jim quickly got the boat to ‘heave to’; a maneuver to stall the boats speed and hold it’s course over ground.  The boat turned in the process, the fish now off the front of the boat.  Bob still reeling in the catch.  The guys worked the rod forward and over the front stay.  After a good 20 minutes they landed a 10+  pound tuna with the aid of a gaff hook.  The chicken for dinner is going in the freezer since we will be having ‘chicken of the sea’ tonight.  The tuna filleted, we’ll have enough for 2 big meals.  We entered the Gulf Stream just before dark, dinning on fresh seared tuna and butter rice.  Pretty fabulous so far! 

Daylight is about 12 hours long.  5:30am - 6 pm.  My watch, 6 - 10pm was very pleasant.   A couple of cargo ships, 1 cruise ship, 2 satellites and a shooting star (wish made).  Jim took over at 10 pm, navigating through the heart of the Stream.  The winds still pushing us along at over 7 knots.  Waves 4 -6 feet, swells up to 10.  The boat enjoyed it, the crew not so much.  Imagine being in a rocking chair.  Now put it on a roller coaster.  Hang on!  More than once we were  tossed about.  The deck awash most of the night.  Bob’s watch brought weakening winds and seas flattening out having left the ‘stream’ behind.  I came back on deck at 6am.  Seas pretty flat. 

Day 2

We were all pretty whipped today.  Two nights of little sleep, adjusting to life offshore.

We have loosely assigned day watches someone is always up during the daylight hours so it’s whoever is in the cockpit takes a look around every little bit.  Adjust the sails (reality, Jim does most of the sail adjusting, Bob and I are like “ah, we’re moving…”).   There is little to watch for so far off shore.  We see the ships, the few that are this far out, on AIS.  We have not seen any other traffic, although we know there are several other sailboats traveling south, too far from us to see however.  At night a few planes overhead.  

I am happy to report we have not seen an abundance of garbage.  One ‘something’ every hour or so is still too much though.  Mostly things we can’t identify without close inspection.  A rectangular green box of some sort, a few balloons.  A pine log.  We’ve seen a few birds; less as we continue east and south.  

We had round two of the tuna tonight for dinner along with coconut curry pasta.  It’s easier to get around on the boat now that the gulf stream is behind us, the waves all but gone.  

I can’t believe or explain how incredible it is out here.  There is nothing to see but water everywhere.  It is so gorgeous.  The most perfect day sailing on Lake Michigan, times 10.  

Day 3

We all had a better nights sleep.  The seas have been pretty flat with comfortable swells.  We started the motor around 3:30 am.  Boat speed down to just above 2 knots.  We have to monitor our fuel so we don't run out.  Most sailboats can not carry enough fuel to make a long passage so conservation to important.  

The weather was perfect.   Summer perfect.  Sunny.  Warm.  Gentle breeze.  Soothing boat action; up, down, to and fro.  The boat creaks a bit now and then adding to the mystique of life aboard.  

Bob Chillin'

The guys have given me the best watch times. (?) I am on from around sunset and beyond as well as sunrise, 6 - 10 am/pm.  Both of which are stunning.  The clouds on the horizon scattering the light into multiple shades of pinks, blues, yellows, oranges…. Sunbeams and moon dogs radiate out respectively.    

The color of the water changes throughout the day.  Sometimes steely grey, like an aluminum foil cloth.  Sometimes indigo blue, deep and serene.  Even the color of Dawn Dish Soap.  Other times glassy and reflective.  Todays sights included errant trash, a flip flop (too small), a sea going bird ??, and a small sparrow!  It managed to land twice on the boat but wouldn't stay put.  Sad.  We are about 300 miles off shore.  I can’t image it can stay aloft much longer out here.  I saw one flying fish too.  Bob, the Whale Whisperer, keeps calling for whales but they must be out of range.  

The winds increased enough by noon to use the sails again, making 5 1/2 knots.  We again took turns napping.  Bob took over galley duty tonight  and made sloppy joe’s and rice pilaf.  All in all the day passed very nicely.  

Day 4

We have been enjoying the relatively warm nights, needing just a light jacket, maybe a hat (me). We sailed most of last night but had to fire up the engine around 2:30, again the winds dwindled down to 2 knots of boat speed.  Jim was relieved by Bob for watch.  I went up early for my watch and hauled out the jib, the winds back up to 10 knots of wind, a nice speed to carry us along.  It was the first time I manned the sails by myself, no coaching.  It felt really good to make the decisions and have the boat respond as I’d hoped.   As the day worn on the winds and seas built and we were again walking on the walls.  One hand for the boat, one for yourself: hold on tight …

A little bit about night time watches.  When I start my watch the sun is just setting.  By 7pm, the remnants of the sun have disappeared and the stars are consuming the night sky. The milky way is clearly visible.  The stars twinkle like the poem.  The moon doesn’t rise till after 9:30, increasing later each night, so I have several hours of star gazing without light pollution. The sea goes on and on.  Then the little creatures start to appear.  Bioluminescence.  Dozens of them flashing next to the boat, disturbed by the wake.  They dance on the waves.  In the blink of an eye they are gone.   They keep me company.  It’s not scary in the least being so far off shore.  It’s breathtaking.  It’s exhilarating.  It’s  empowering.  The wind has been our friend, ushering us along the line we need to follow to find the trade winds that will carry us south to our destination.  

Are we there yet ???

I find it hard to stay below when off watch.  I feel like a kid that will miss something if I look away.   This morning looking aft, I saw several flying fish.  Jim was quick enough up the companionway to see them too.  The sea holds so many new things for us to experience.  

Chris Parker gave a us a decent forecast.  We will continue generally east till we get to about 65 degree longitude, then turn south and with a bit of luck, the trade winds will find us and help us to scoot along.  

Day 5

The night hours were divided between sailing and motoring sailing.  The winds shifting, building, diminishing throughout the evening and night.  My shift saw 2 shooting stars in quick succession and one freighter, the lights barely visible behind us.  

We are making steady progress toward our goal.  Chris updated us this morning as far as weather.  When we hit the trade winds (tomorrow?) , they will be strong; 20 -25 knots with seas on the beam (side).  We’ll need to make sure we have things secured.  The boat will likely fishtail some as it carries us swiftly south.  

The morning brought fairly flat seas with undulating swells.  The mainsail has been up and working the entire trip.  The head sail goes in and out as the winds wane or shift.  We are keeping a log recording stats about every 3 hours and Jim has been plotting our course daily.  We have gone over 550 miles since departing Beaufort and averaging 145 noon to noon.Mostly by the power of the wind…

The winds dwindled as the morning wore on and we had to start the engine to continue making  progress.  We are nearing Bermuda and have been picking up one side of VHF conversations pertaining to those making it their destination, no visuals on any pleasure craft.   It occurs to us we are IN the Bermuda Triangle.   hmmmm     Enough said. 

One of several flying fish found on deck 

The temps nearing 80 have allowed us to wear swim suits daytimes, night times mid 70’s.  I spent some time sunning on the bow in the afternoon; upon my retreat found another stowaway… a flying fish.  It had been too long on deck, it did not survive. We returned it to the sea.  

We finally had to concede and drop the mainsail by mid afternoon.  It was starting to bang around.  

With the time change, the sun sets just after 4:30 pm.  By 5 it’s already dark.  We have been eating dinner below together where we can see our plates.  Gumbo tonight.  

Day 6 

In general, sailing with a decent breeze is pretty noisy.  The wind whistles through the rigging, the metal on our dinghy hoist providing a single musical note like air passing over a pop bottle.  Waves slapping against the hull.  The eddies behind the boat swirling and providing their own symphony.  Then there is the boat itself.  It creaks and groans, like an old wooden rocking chair, the seas making the hull flex from the constant compression.  Its sound not unpleasant, just surprising in volume.  

Refueling while underway

We had to motor all night, the winds not getting over 3 knots.  The same noises are present but engulfed by the constant drone of the ever faithful engine.  

Once again, I was awed by the turning of the dark hours to daylight.  The sun returning as scheduled.  While making my morning look see, another flying fish was found.  This time a baby.  It was returned to the sea like it’s unfortunate relative the day before.  

Having motored for over 24 hours, it was time to refuel while we had relatively good conditions.  Chris reports we will soon be in the Trade Winds, and we better be ready for the shift.  Jim brought the jerry jugs aft from the side deck storage and he and Bob skillfully made the exchange.  A 5 degree heal and bouncing seas with nary a drop spilled. 

Mahimahi

We could feel the winds freshening through the morning, approaching 10 knots.  We are very close to the longitude of the Trades.  Having eaten the remainder of the fresh fish, the line was tossed out again.  It took several hours but the call went out… FISH ON !  This time a mahimahi, also called dolphin or dorado in some areas.  A very nice eating white flesh fish.  We cut the engine, dumped the wind from the sails and Jim reeled it in.  A gorgeous fish!   Blunt head, it’s body fantastic bright greens and yellows.  Bob grabbed the line and as it was being brought aboard it gave a quick but effective burst of energy and broke free of the hook.  I can’t say I was sorry.  The thought of such a lovely creature coming to it’s end by means of our knife… We do have lots of packaged food to eat, so, que sera’ sera’… 

The winds kept building, 10, 12, 13…. 15 knots.  No need for the engine.  Chris’ weather report says stay this course another day.  There is a weather system building south of the BVI’s.  To avoid it we should continue east another day, then turn south and west to stay out of harms way if it should develop into a storm.  So, east we go.

We saw a couple freighters today, one off the bow about 1/2 mile.  A few flying fish ‘flying’.  They look like little white torpedoes propelling themselves 50 feet of more across the surface.  Sometimes alone, sometimes a small school.  Another bird today, this time a swallow.  It circled us a few times, zipped through the cockpit and was off.   A couple hours latter, returned then we saw no more of it.  Darwin's finches traveled great distances over the seas to colonize the Galapagos… Maybe just maybe it will find terra firma. 

Night watches, generally spent alone, provide time to contemplate things.  I can work through ideas, think about loved ones, conjure up stories.  Reflect on life.  Sometimes my mind runs amuck.  Last night (night 6) I found myself in the throws of… what if someone falls overboard.  what if a storm hits.  what if a sail blows out, what if …. ?  My mind racing, alone, in the dark.  I can reason all these things out.  Think about it logically.  But my imagination sometimes bombards my good sense and I feel defeated.  But as times passes through the long dark hours, so do the demons I have created.  

A bit bumpy out there ...

By the time my shift ends, we have rolled in the jib a bit.  Mid Jim’s shift, we reefed the main.  The seas have us in a washboard, we are hobby horsing about.  Each step takes thought and effort.  You raise your foot and the floor comes up to meet it.  You move to the left and the wall introduces itself most abruptly.  An elevator ride gone mad.  

The temps have been in the 80’s even at night  which was a mixed blessing.  Outside a ‘delightful breeze’, down below, stifling.  We had closed all vents before heading out where water might penetrate which also suppressed the air flow.  (We were pretty cruise’y  (stinky) by day 10.)

Day 7  

One entire week at sea.  We got little sleep last night.  The seas were heaving and tossing us all over.  The winds  varying from 12 - 17 knots.  The waves hitting us broadside.  I have been sleeping in the V-berth, the pointy end.  The most boisterous part of the ship.  I can generally sleep anywhere.  Last night not so much.  Several times I was sent airborne, returning to a new spot on the bunk.  Generally farther aft since the boat is making forward progress.  I have bruises on bruises.  Other than some discomfort, we are doing fine.  And … ! we are NOT shoveling snow… 

double rainbow

We discovered yesterday that the AIS was not working AGAIN!!!!  We have had several problems with transmitting / receiving since it was installed a couple years ago. This time it was our error.  One of the buttons on the iPad control center had inadvertently been switched to silent mode, not transmitting.  Once discovered it was easily rectified.  Now, today, Jim discovered our VHF antenna wire at the TOP of the mast has come undone. It also transmits / receives the AIS signal.  Somehow the loose fitting was missed in the rigging inspection.  We have a hand held VHF radio for backup.   It’s range is basically line of sight, not ideal but it will get the job done when we reach port and need to call the harbor master.  The only solution is to go up the mast and screw it back together.  Not a viable option today.  The SSB antennae is separate from the VHF one so we will still will get weather reports and can communicate as needed via SSB.  

on e of several squalls 

Noonish.  We have entered the Trade Winds (finally) and have turned south / south west.  Chris, out weather guru, said it would be a ‘sporty’ ride.  My usual experience with sports involves a remote control and an adult beverage.  I’m thinking that’s not what he meant.  There was a tropical wave, an unusual weather pattern, that was causing a disturbance coming up from the tropics.  It influenced the weather for hundreds of miles.  We were on the eastern side so we were to expect squalls and some adverse conditions.  Not dangerous though.  

The winds started shifting and building as we push south. (written about noon)… 

 By day 6 the temps were in the 80’s even at night  which was a mixed blessing.  Outside a ‘delighmight penetrate which also suppressed the air flow.  We were pretty cruise’y  (stinky) by day 10.

Day 7 (continued) - 10

The last few days are a blur.  Here’s a synopsis.  

tossing about ...

The Atlantic Arcade games began the afternoon of day 7.   It played pinball with us bouncing us all over; above and below decks.  The winds and seas had increased dramatically.  I found myself wishing they would go back down to 24 knots…having increased to 30 knots +/-. Gusts nearing 40.  We recorded 37.2 top gust.  The seas were steady 15 feet,  20 at times.  It was impressive.  We flew under our storm sail (very small) and a triple reefed main doing 7 knots for nearly 3 days.  Life vests and harnesses part of our new attire.  

The bow plunged fairly constantly below the waves and seas broke over the cockpit sides every now and again, dumping gallons, the floor boards afloat and 6 inches of water sloshing about.  The watch-man getting a thorough rinsing in the process.  The scuppers and drains sometimes plugging with seaweed (sargasso).  

Land ho !

The most simple tasks had become a huge drain on our stamina.  Every movement needed to be secured with a deathtrap on something secure.  Sitting.  Moving of any sort.  Sleeping.  Eating.  Going to the head… nearly impossible.  A boat has 6 motions in the water, accentuated while underway: moving up and down, side to side, and to and fro.    We ran through squalls nights 7 and 8 with lightening on the horizon to keep things interesting.   

We changed watches about every 2 hours and attempted to rest during the worst of it.  The boat stayed fairly dry below, a few known leaks only increasing slightly.  The boat performed fantastic.  With 2 exceptions, we never touched the wheel to steer the entire passage, the auto pilot performed flawlessly.  We choose to hand steer while reeling in the tuna and again to reef the mainsail.  

Celebrating at  Foxy's 

Jim, who LOVES to sail had even had enough.  He said we’d been through a washing machine, all cycles.  The soak cycle lasted good long time, 7 days +, then the wash: heavy duty, a rinse, spin, rinse again (and again… ) then we where rung out to dry on the final day.  

Jost Van Dyke, BVI’s.

We did it!  We made port 9 days, 21 hours after setting out.  Noon to noon distances 145 +/- with one heavy weather day of only 114 miles.  

Total : over 1500 nautical miles

We feel pretty good about our passage all and all, having left port under several sailing taboos: NEVER leave on a Friday for a voyage: we did.  

It was also Devils Night (before Halloween), and  

we went through the Bermuda Triangle !!!!  

We did NOT bring any bananas aboard at least. 

We did have a few casualties along the way;  overboard: a bandana, a coffee cup, a chunk of  styrofoam and a bolt from a bimini support.  

Also, one cabin light that didn't like the salt water needs some attention along with the previously mentioned antenna wire.  We consider ourselves fortunate.

Foxy's : 'calling cards' from other visitors 

Our new reality: Sandy beaches.  Tropical breezes.  Turquoise water.  Painkillers !

I think it’s a good tradeoff from the snow.