Saturday 12 December - Random Thoughts
First thoughts: 1. Give thanks to God for giving me this opportunity, and for seeing us through without any injury, or worse. 2. Concern about the drive line: transmission, shaft, cutless bearing, and propeller.
This is the last day; landfall Antigua at daybreak tomorrow, Sunday. We have about 100 miles to go, and it is 22 hours until morning twilight, so if we sail faster than 4.5 kts we will have to stop and wait for light before entering. The wind is light so going slow will not be a problem.
It is nice having a restful arrival. We are just sitting back, thinking about the passage and the trip down from Tenerife, and enjoying the last of this part of our adventures. In April Normandie and I made two landfalls, both very difficult. Our trip to Bermuda was during a rare (For April) five day "weather window" (no storms). So it was a race to make it there , and we did just after the "adverse weather" caught up with us. We also had a failing diesel lift pump and an intermittent cooling water pump. Upon arrival we collapsed in exhaustion, onlu to depart Bermuda a few hours later because a massive storm system (hurricane force winds)was forecasted to arrive in four days, trapping us in Bermuda well into the next week, preventing Normandie from getting back to work in time. So we immediately sailed south. The farther south we could go the less severe the storm. (And this was a storm, not a gale) So we sailed south, down off Florida. The storm caught up with us, then we headed home, bucking cold fronts every other day. Between the cold fronts we had north-west wind. That is the direction we wanted to go to get back to the US, north-west. It was a fight every mile of the way, and very rough. We could not make Cape Fear, but even with one sail split asunder and a seam opening on another we did make Beaufort, much to our relief. It was a tough trip. Unlike this one. The only sail handling we have done is to cross the boom from a broad reach to wing 'n wing, and let the genoa in or out to adjust for wind speed. This is a most pleasant landfall.
I left North Carolina in June and had a most pleasant trip up to Norfolk. A trip I always want to share. A varied and interesting three day run. I always like that part of North Carolina. Then John and I sailed up to New Bedford. That "landfall" was more difficult for me than any of the others because I didn't know where I was going or what I would find when I got there. I did not know that I could find a safe place to anchor. We ended up sailing into Block Island and anchored with a few hundred of my best friends for 4th July. I don't have to tell generations of sailors that New England is a Mecca for maritime lovers.
Adnaan and I crossed the Atlantic. Expecting icebergs we were instead challenged by a stationary front stretching from Cape Hatteras all the way across to the British Isles, with low pressure systems running up the front every two days. That gave us north-east wind north of the front. From New England we had to cross to the south side of the front to get favourable wind. So we went south. And we went south. And we went south. All the way down to the Latitude of Norfolk, VA. All the way down into hurricane territory, and it was August. But we did finally cross the front, and had good sailing to the Azores.
Faial, Azores - With the wall on which we painted out "Advent II" sign, and a week long street festival. And I liked the boats there. They were all traveling boats, not seasonal boats for locals and European vacationers as in the other marinas. Did I say marinas? No anchorages. The Azores, Maderia, Canaries, no anchorages. You must stay in a marina, behind a 12 foot high seawall. (And all the marinas required insurance documents be presented.) But on the plus side they were safe, had water at the boat, showers, and did not cost but $20.00/day.
Tenerife, was my home for several months, with all its ups and downs, emotional, geologic and kiteboarding. Where Sterling joined me.
It is obvious from the shirt collars. Back in the Canaries and Cape Verde my shirt collar got grimy in one day, but when we left the desert dirt and volcanic ash the shirts stay much cleaner. Back there the air was dirty. Every day I could wash the dirt off the boat deck. And wow didn't the wind blow. Normal wind in August/September was 30 knots. It just howled. When Sterling and I sailed down to Cape Verde from Canaries we had 30 k nots+ all the way, sailing with just a partial genoa. Our time in Cape Verde was defined by the strong wind. Wind that bade it difficult to use the dinghy. I have pictures of people at the grill on the pontoon hanging onto their beers, the chop making the beers slide back and forth across the bar. We left Cape Verde heading west in 30 knots. Before the night was out the wind was down to 15 knots, and has been 10-15 knots since. Eighteen days. We put the genoa with pole to port, trisail on the boom to stbd, and have not changed either. We never raised the main. It has been an exceptional passage.
By far the most uncomfortable and injurious thing about offshore sailing is the motion of the boat. It is constantly in radical motion, mostly side to side. Not really rocking. Rocking implies a gentle motion. With this motion the boat rolls to one side, and instead of gently ending the roll and starting down in the opposite direction, it is jerked back in the opposite direction. Everything slides across a table and food jumps off the plate. Then three seconds later everything is jerked in the opposite direction. Lying in the bunk you are snapped back and forth. You can not lay anything down. The act of brushing your teeth meand that you have to hold the tooth brush in one hand, the tooth paste in the other hand, and hold on to the boat with a third hand, or find a place to put the toothpaste down wher it will not jump onto the floor, while holding on. We haven't even gotten to how to manage the water. I am comvinced that most injuries are a result of the radical, dramatic, sudden and continual movement. You really get tired of it. And typing, with the keyboard sliding around, is really hard. What I do is type a few characters, they my hands fly up to grab supports on both sides of the table, hang on the two or three seconds, then both hands back to the keyboard for a few more strokes. Meanwhile my core muscles are working overtime keeping the body in the seat.
I have been surprized that we have seen very few birds, very few dolphins, no fish. A great deal of sargasso, but almost no wildlife. And very few other boats. I think four ships and five other yachts, all but one had AIS, so we knew the name of the vessel and its course relative to us. All the sailboats have been in the 45-60 foot range, and traveling one or two knots faster than us.
This adventure (An adventure is something that, when you start it you do not know how it will end.) This adventure has several phases: 1. North Carolina to New England. 2. New England to Azores/Madeira/Canaries. 3. In the Canaries. 4. Canaries back across the Atlantic. 5. the 2000 miles back up to North Carolina. Phase 4 has almost been completed. I will still have 2000 miles to go, but as Normandie says, I will be in my home waters. Most of the way will be day sailing between islands. I hope to share this part of the journey with others, and stop and see friends and relatives along the way. And there will be afternoon swims, waving palms, and sunsets from the foredeck. But first I need to fix whatever is wrong with the driveline. That will be tomorrow.
This has been an exceptional crossing. Few have had it so easy. But now, with gentile winds on the last day, and a peaceful night, tomorrow it will end. Give thanks that we have made it and no one has gotten hurt.
Reef Early
Bill Doar
Advent II
Antigua 63 miles
And as Normandie says,"It is not the size of the boat, it's the motion of the ocean."
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