In which we finally cross the Atlantic
On a long passage,
days tend to merge and this especially true with trade wind sailing,
where similar conditions can persist for days on end. The good bits
particularly, where the sails are perfectly set, the motion is
comfortable, there is fair weather and either sun or moon to
illuminate your world so it is the (hopefully) little things that go
wrong that mark the passage of time.
We left Mindelo
pretty much to plan at 1030 on the 13th December, pausing
only to top up the fuel tank. 17 litres is all that it took: not bad
for 4 weeks, over a thousand miles and 7 harbours entered and left.
Our passage planning tool told us that we could expect to take 13 –
14 days to cross to Barbados; we reckoned that 15-17 was more
realistic but with full tanks and plenty of food 3 weeks would not be
a problem. The forecast wind for the first week was from a good
direction, NNE, but a little stronger than we would have liked, 20-25
knots rather than our hoped for 15-20. Since there are always
periods where the actual wind is significantly higher than forecast,
it meant that we could expect 30 knots, a near gale, for much of the
time and to say that Elsie was relaxed about it would be overstating
the case somewhat.
The winds were
forecast to be a little lighter south of track so we decided to head
off south-westerly. On Jimmy Cornell’s advice, we hoisted the main
before leaving the shelter of Mindelo harbour. As the strait between
the islands is a known wind acceleration zone, we made it as small as
possible with 3 reefs in. Since we would be downwind, we needed the
whisker pole rigged, to keep the headsail full so we rigged this on
the starboard side and put out half the genoa. Once clear of
obstacles, we put the main to that side also and set a course of 235
degrees. Two French yachts, which had left in the preceding hour,
took a more direct heading, under the lee of San Antao island and we
took a slightly childish delight in watching as their speed dropped
off and we overhauled them. Later that evening, as we concluded that
we were clear of the acceleration zone and shook out the 3rd
reef, we passed a large catamaran under just a small jib heading the
same way as us but making less than 5 knots compared to our 6+.
While cats may sit more comfortably at anchor than monohulls, their
motion in a seaway looks worse and we didn’t envy them if they were
expecting to continue at this speed and take over 3 weeks to cross.
We settled into our,
by now, familiar routine: Elsie keeping the 12 – 6 watch and I the
6 – 12. Watch changes at midnight and 6 AM tend to be brief and businesslike
as the off-going watch-keeper has bed as a priority; those at mid-day
and 6 PM are more social. We have lunch at 1 and dinner at 7.
Breakfast, for me, is at 8 and we snack at intervals through the
watch, not only for sustenance but to break the hours up. A piece of
fruit, a cereal bar or a couple of chocolate digestives make a nice
little punctuation to a 6 hour night watch.
We thought that we
had prepared Ruby well for the crossing but the following morning
revealed an error. All shackles are moused: that is, they have a
piece of locking wire, or a cable tie, through a hole on the end of
the pin and round the main part of the shackle to prevent it working
loose. Two that I had neglected were on the whisker pole, where the
up-haul and guys attach. These were permanently fitted, had been for
at least 3 years and were probably welded in place by corrosion. Not
so. A cry from Elsie in the small hours brought me from my bunk.
The pole had dropped and the spinnaker halyard, which had been
supporting it, could not be seen in the dark. We furled most of the
genoa and I went forward to bring in the pole. Not the easiest of
jobs as there was a good swell rolling and pitching us and the end of
the pole was dipping into the sea, which was passing us at 6 knots.
Pole in and secured, it was seek-the-halyard time. Rather than
blowing free, as I feared, it had caught round a stay and I was able
to capture it. Unfortunately, it had also been caught up n the genoa
as we furled it and had to be freed, which entailed Elsie slacking it
out while I dodged the flailing canvas and ropes, pulling the halyard
in what I hoped was the right direction. Eventually, I managed to
get everything connected and re-installed with a new shackle,
properly moused. The entire operation took about an hour, of which
the actual mousing occupied about 30 seconds.
Rolling down the Trades
We continued on a
broad reach until 18:00 on the 14th, when I judged that we
had made sufficiently to the south. The main was brought over to the
port side and very well secured with a preventer, so that if the wind
should get on the wrong side of it, it would not slam across to
starboard. We were now on a nearly dead down-wind run. This is
always a delicate balance but, with a big following swell, it became
a real challenge. Passing swells would catch the stern, pushing it
one way or the other. If we yawed to starboard, the wind could get on
the wrong side of the genoa. This would rapidly push us back on
course but, as it re-caught the wind on the correct side it would
fill with a bang, putting unwanted stress on sail, ropes and rigging.
Yaw too far to port and it is the main that gets back-winded. While
the combination of tight preventer and sheet stop the boom from
moving, geometry means the sail will tend to push you even further
off course. In a strong wind this could have very serious
consequences, with an increased apparent wind causing a broach.
Experimentation showed that setting the auto-pilot to an apparent
wind angle of starboard 160 risked the former; starboard 165 the
latter. S162 it was then and so it remained for several days.
With the starboard
side of the main now visible from the cockpit, the following morning
I observed that, on shaking out the 3rd reef, we had
caught the lazy jack with the end of the top batten and idly wondered
if it would cause any chafe. I concluded not as both parts were
moving together and it was canvas against soft rope. We would, in
any event free it easily when we put the 3rd reef back in,
which we expected to do the following day when stronger winds were
forecast. Again, my laziness caught me out. 30 hours later, another
cry from Elsie again dragged me from my bunk. The lazy jack had
parted and the sail bag was flapping wildly. 30 minutes of struggle
secured it to the boom and I was able to remove the lower sections of
lazy jack. The upper part had wrapped itself round the radar head
and could not be freed. We judged that the wind was now increasing
sufficiently to put the 3rd reef back in and did so. I
then noticed that the upper part of the lazy jack had wrapped itself
round the main halyard and looked as though it would prevent any
further lowering of the sail or it being raised higher than the 2nd
reef. No way of sorting this, without going up the mast and that was
out of the question in the prevailing conditions. Nothing to do but
keep it tight to prevent it wrapping any further and hope that it
freed itself. Fortunately, a couple of hours later, it did so and I
was able to now pull it from the radar head. Another salutary
lesson.
We continued on the
‘goose-winged’ run for a further 3 days, making excellent
progress, making over 180 miles (7.5 knots) on two consecutive days.
On the 19th we had got as far south as we needed (10:48 N)
and brought the genoa over to the same, port, side as the main.
Again we steered by the wind, this time on S135, to keep us heading
as nearly west as possible. The almost constant wind direction, 075,
enabled us to track 280, with just a daily look at the weather to
confirm that we could continue as we were for another 24 hours. On
the afternoon of the 23rd we were on a level with our
destination and changed back to goose winged, shaking out the 3rd
reef for the first time in a week. It had been kept in as, although
we had not been hit by any line squalls, which we were cautioned
against, there were frequent showers with gust fronts giving 30 –
35 knots of wind. The genoa had to be reefed for this so we were
reefing and un-reefing 2-3 times per watch. In general, the weather
was a disappointment: we had envisaged days in the sun, rolling
gently to a lazy following swell; instead, we had overcast skies,
showers with gusts and a confused swell, frequently peaking at over 5
metres. When caught properly these could give an exhilarating ride
with speeds in excess of 10 knots. One which gave us 12.9 knots was
the cue to put our week long 3rd reef in. we never were
able to read the swells – we would see a large, straight one,
approaching and anticipate a sleigh ride – nothing. 10 minutes
later, a seemingly innocuous one from a slightly different direction
would roll us through 50 degrees, causing the sails to slam. It
wasn’t until the 23rd that we had a day, and most of a
night, with clear skies and steady winds. And then the showers were
back.
I saw a Japanese
fishing boat on the second night out and then no other vessels or
lights until the afternoon of the 24th, when a crossing
tanker had to alter course by 15 degrees to pass behind us.
First ship for 10 days
Of wildlife, we saw
quite a few dolphins (mainly Atlantic spotted, we believe) various
seabirds and hoards of flying fish. Occasionally, these would land
on board, though they often managed to flop off again. They make
good eating, tasting much like fresh sardines and, being a similar
size to these, 3 or 4 make a good lunch. I did replace my fishing
lure, lost on the way down to Cape Verdes, before departure but
reckoned that trying to land a decent sized fish would be hazardous
in the prevailing conditions so never tried it out. Our food stocks
were sufficiently good that, although a fish dish would be good, we
had plenty of quantity and variety without. On the 4th
day, we passed through a large area of moss-like weed and passed
further, smaller, patches in the following days.
What was in short
supply was sleep. Elsie is a good sleeper (though not at anchor, for
some reason) but I always have difficulty sleeping during the day.
We had hoped that, once into a watch-keeping routine, my body would
adapt but this did not happen and so I had to make do with the 4-5
hours that I got during the night, leaving me on the verge of
exhaustion for much of the voyage and taking away much of the
pleasure. We did try shifting watches a little, to give me extra
night hours but this then impinged on Elsie’s sleep, risking both
of us being in an exhausted state. We managed on this voyage, but
this is a comparatively easy crossing; it has given us pause to think
about further long voyages and to consider whether we need a third
watch-keeper on board
A wind shift on the
24th caused us to put both sails to port again, this time
without the pole on the genoa and we continued on this broad reach,
with an apparent wind angle of S120, all the way to Barbados. The
Island was sighted on the morning of the 26th and we
dropped anchor in Carlisle Bay at 1050 local time. With our route
taking us to the south, actual distance sailed was 2150 miles, at an
average speed of 6.8 knots.
On the beach at Bridgetown
Barbados time is 3
hours behind that of Cape Verdes. To avoid confusing our body clocks,
we had only put our clocks back one of these and saved up 2 hours of
for arrival. This meant that on the night of the 26th we
were able to go to bed at 22:00, rise at 06:00 and still get 10 hours
sleep. How good was that!
We knew that the
facilities for yachts at Bridgetown had recently been improved but
did not have details or contact numbers. We failed to make any
progress on how to get in on the 27th but finally tracked
down the relevant person on the 28th. We had a choice of
a fairly easily accessed harbour on the northern edge of the town or
passing through a lifting bridge to tie up right in the centre. We
opted for the latter and spent the rest of the year being watched
over by the statue of Elliot Barrow, first prime minister, in
Independence Square. The square had been decorated with Christmas
trees by local schools, each dedicated to a different Commonwealth
country. ‘Ours’ was dedicated to Zambia and drew much attention
from passers by – well done, St George Secondary.
"Our" tree
While alongside, we
took a daily tour. First was to the Mount Gay rum centre where we
managed the tour, including tasting 6 varieties, on an empty stomach.
We could definitely get a taste for their product, especially the
Black Barrel and XO. Our second tour was by local bus to an old
plantation house. Elsie had checked the day before which bus we
wanted and its departure time. By the time we had done our morning
shop (not easy – if we don’t want to spend a fortune on food, we
are going to have to eat more like the locals) we only had 2 minutes
before it departed. Never mind there was another in an hour. 45
minutes later we were told that no, not that one, we wanted the one
that was just disappearing. Another 45 minutes. No, says the
driver, but my mate next door will drop you. He did, after going
round every housing road in the south east of the island. We thought
that the journey out, on a ‘corporation’ bus was exciting, as it
raced round tiny country roads. We had never seen a driver hanging
onto a grab handle for the bends before. The return, on a privately
operated vehicle made it seem tame. There were 22 seats but 40+
passengers and a conductor who hung out of the open door and crammed
more customers in at every stop. As the bus got fuller, the speed
went up and the music got louder. No time to collect fares on
entering as they race to get into a cab-rank queue back at
Bridgetown.
We were planning a
further bus trip to the north end of the island on the 31st
when it dawned on me that, if we changed our plans and stayed on the
western side of the Atlantic for a year or so, we would need American
visas and the only place we could get them was here. A frustrating
morning of pounding keys and trying to come up with acceptable
answers to questions aimed at more conventional travellers eventually
resulted in completed applications and appointments for interview on
the 4th January. We ended 2016 by strolling down to the
beach for a last dip of the year and returning to Ruby for a punch or
3 made from our newly acquired rum.
Monthly stats:
logged 2268
over ground 2297
Annual stats:
logged 10349
over ground 10193
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