Just as the weather is starting to turn colder, we are preparing to migrate southward for our third winter cruising the Caribbean. This time, however, we are able to start off by skipping the difficult, lengthy off shore passages and just hop on a plane.
Captain Linda Perry Riera
We left Argon in Grenada this past April for the summer hauled out, strapped down in a hurricane cradle, and with a punch list of projects to be handled locally on the island. Oddly, we have been boat-less for a summer in New England. Our only association with Argon for five months has been through forced e mails, an occasional reluctant photo, or an eager invoice from the shipyard or a contractor in Grenada. More on the learnings and challenges related to these boat projects in a later post.
Our lives have been strangely normal and exceptionally satisfying spending time in our home in Newport, Rhode Island (USA) as well as lots of traveling to Boston, Massachusetts for work (including renting an apartment in nearby Lexington for several months - thank you, Helene!).
When not working, Bob has his studio up and running with some sexy new gear. And he has enjoyed starting to record some great local talent. There have been a fair number of brown boxes with new equipment arriving and he has enjoyed setting everything up on this cool studio console that he built in the garage.
Bob's man cave.
Fasnet Pub Session Band.
I am loving my career shift as an independent consultant and despite slightly over-committed myself to work this summer, have managed to schedule in lots of wonderful visits with family and friends.
Great to have the three boys (and two of their three SO's) with us in Newport in June!
My only sail of the entire summer.... Rhodes 19 with Lori and Todd.
Fun weekend in DC with Kelly and the little ones!
My woman cave is coming along quite nicely. I have enjoyed tending to my flowers and shrubs, luring a myriad of birds, and killing invasive voles (well, I have not enjoyed the killing).
Linda's woman cave... Patio completed, new plants in, flowers eventually bloomed!
I have also loved getting in to an invigorating rhythm of ocean swimming. The water temp requires a wet suit at this time of year thus I may have only a few more swims in me before I cave in to the cold. Soon the warm turquoise waters of the Caribbean will be part of my regular winter routine.
Recent cold water swim in Jamestown, RI (USA).
Typical swim track. This one was 2000 yards in 63F (burr!).
Morning swim in Freeman's Bay English Harbor, Antigua last winter.
Now we focus our attention on tending to various life logistics as we prepare to be away for 7 or 8 months.
Both Bob and I will again work while we cruise. Reliable internet connection has been a learning process - check out past blogs on our trials and tribulations to feed our data needs. This winter we will be trying Google-Fi. We will be sure to provide an update on a future post.
One of my remote office settings last winter. This gives WFH a new meaning (Anse La Roche, Carriacou).
But sometimes our WFH set up is more mundane (Antigua outside a local market).
I am committing myself to resume sailing related writing during this coming trip as last winter I was woefully remiss. Most writing will be in the form of reigniting this blog. I have an objective to create frequent short blogs... let's see how this goes.
Bob will fly to Grenada in just two and a half weeks. I will follow a week later. And we will both happily transition once again to life aboard s/v Argon!!
Friday 2 November - St. George, Bermuda (4 days after leaving Newport): A contorted sixty foot aluminum headstay with a thick stainless steel cable interior lays out of place along side Argon at the seawall in Bermuda, just a stone's throw across the inlet from the Customs Dock. It is oddly twisted with a shattered roller furler at her distal end. The local and semi-famous rigger, Steve Hollis of Ocean Sails, comes wandering up with his two dogs on leash having already heard about our tribulations through the cruising chatter and says in his understated, polite manner "Well, well... looks like you've got a spot of bother here". Yup.
Argon's bent and sagging head stay, tangled genoa and jib, and lashed on roller furler upon arrival in Bermuda.
Newport to Bermuda...
... is a common passage for cruisers from New England to make this time of year on their transit to the Caribbean. On a decent boat, it's typically four to five days (~650nm/750 miles). The trick is that it is often difficult to find a window between weather systems of more than two or three days this time of year. The other challenge is that one must cross a 50nm wide river on the way: the Gulf Stream.
We had our weather window and we had our excellent crew. The synopsis of the weather was that it was going to be difficult on the front end, then ease up as the passage went on. If we waited, things would have been a little easier at the start but we would have had more headwinds for longer at the end. We chose a departure date along with about 20 other boats from Newport Yachting Center.
Many sailboats gathering at Newport Yachting Center in late October preparing to head off shore to Bermuda as a stopping point on their way to the Caribbean.
Monday 29 October: Uncomfortable Start, as Expected
We left the Yachting Center dock in Newport at 0930 and headed out to sea with a few other boats close behind. Immediately upon leaving the harbor, we encountered some fairly uncomfortable seas sailing high into oncoming 6-8ft waves. This was expected but that didn't really help make it any more fun. Jeff and Linda had a bit of an issue with sea-sickness during this time. Jeff won for sheer volume but Linda took style points. We were sailing close reach with a double-reefed main and the jib.
These conditions remained for the whole day but toward nightfall, the winds started to veer and we got a little more off the wind. Things got a bit more comfortable but not much. The wind eventually did get around enough to switch from the jib to the genoa initially on a beam then a broad reach. Helming required much physical exertion and concentration; certainly no autopilot.
Linda working the helm on Argon during the first day.
Tuesday 30 October: Challenging but Fast
The wind continued to veer and the waves were not so head on. Argon screamed along at 10-12kts most of the time under a reefed main and the 150 genoa in 18-25kts of wind. At about 1700 hrs we were at 38N and just entering the Gulf Stream. As we watched the water temperature tick up from about 56 degrees to a balmy 76 we expected things to get nasty but surprisingly, the stream was relatively smooth... for now. Still requiring deliberate working of the wheel but seas were following and not dramatically erratic.
The partially enclosed cockpit kept us relatively warm and dry during the front end of the trip and our entry in to the Gulf Stream.
Wednesday 31 October: The Finicky Gulf Stream Screams "I'm not done with ya yet!"
Note: No photos during the shit-storm.
At about midnight Tuesday night in to the early morning hours of Wednesday, Lance was working the helm hard as we were nearing the outer edge of the Gulf Stream while the rest of us tried to rest amidst the howling wind and roar of ocean against the hull. Bob took over from an exhausted Lance around 0100 and resumed the struggle still sailing very fast with a reefed main and the genoa when the sea state took a pretty sudden turn for the worse. We encountered some very steep and confused waves that were tossing Argon around pretty hard. Eventually, these waves started hitting our quarter and rounding us up into the wind. I was trying to rest down below to have the strength to get through my upcoming turn at the wheel but was kept awake not only by the severe motion of the boat and the normal loud creeks and sounds of water rushing against the hull, but also an unusual seemingly vibrato noise radiating down the port side chain plates where I lay. Bob began to struggle more with controlling the boat yelling some expletives when I jumped up to help.
Since we were carrying the powerful 150% genoa, it was very difficult to steer back off the wind and we found ourselves stuck beam-to the seas. When we were rounded up high into the wind, the rig was shaking violently. The cockpit was repeatedly flooded with large (and very warm) waves. At about this time I called down below for Lance and Jeff to join us in the cockpit. Bob was still at the helm when another large wave came rolling over the starboard coaming. Bob recalls looking down and seeing the autopilot display under water! Another wave rolled over the cabin house top and unfortunately spilled down below in to the galley and salon (as Lance and Jeff were suiting up). This wave set off our SOS Dan Buoy which inflated in the cockpit, its strobe light flashing. Bob thought, "well at least we know it works" whereas I momentarily panicked as I thought it was a spreader that had come down. In another few seconds, the LP gas alarm started going off... it was quite the cacophony! (We eventually ruled out a gas leak and determined it was due to the sensor that had gotten wet from the incoming water.) All of these things raised the intensity of the situation... it was like being in a flight simulator when they start throwing in faults for you to solve under pressure. But this was no drill and we were hundreds of miles from help.
We attempted to roll up the genoa and found it very difficult to do so. Clouds obscured the partial moon obliterating the horizon making staying oriented extra difficult. We sacrificed our night vision and turned on the deck light for some forward visibility. This is when it was clear that something was seriously wrong with the rig. The outer headstay that carries the genoa is normally not extremely tight and has a bit of sag, but this was way beyond sag... it was bowed away from the boat in a large arch. The outer stay had come lose from the masthead. We fought to roll up the genoa as best as we could with Bob and Jeff precariously on the foredeck, Lance in the cockpit using all his might with the furling line and sheets. And me working the helm struggling to keep Argon downwind but not jibe. We attempted to put the jib out to relieve some pressure from the wind on the genoa but the jib was now getting fouled with the sagging and swinging outer headstay. Upon rolling the jib back up, it got horribly twisted upon itself as the waves and wind continued to batter us.
The manhandling of the genoa took all four of us working in orchestrated chaos... Bob and Jeff bravely spent quite a bit of time on the fore deck in the churning seas as Argon continued to get rounded up and crazy waves bombarded us from seemingly every direction. Although tethered in, I was petrified that one or both would loose their balance and be thrown over a life line only to be in a different type of peril. I managed the helm trying to navigate the waves (there had already been a few unintentional jibes earlier in the evening). Lance did all the line work from the cockpit including somehow eventually getting the genoa furling line coaxed with Bob and Jeff working the sail from the bow. All of this was done over the constant roar of the wind in the rig and the rushing of water against the hull.
Once we finally got the genoa mostly furled, Bob secured the furling drum to the bow with a dock line and we sailed along dead downwind still in complete darkness with just the reefed main to minimize the whacking of the loose outer head stay against the taught inner stay with only the reefed main. A few hours later at daybreak with some muscle and Lance's idea from past experience during a race, we got the jib untwisted and re-deployed... revealing a dramatic diagonal three foot tear about a third of the way up; but still providing a bit of power.
Bob back on the foredeck the morning after in calmer seas with the flailing headstay with partially furled genoa and the sliced jib.
We were soaked, physically spent, and emotionally fried. But encouraged that we had things under control. I was still massively nervous that the whipping around of the heavy headstay was going work it's way loose from the mast and come crashing down on the deck (and the crew).
Spectacular sunrise the morning after.
Conditions were expected to ease up over the rest of the passage and thankfully they did. The stress on our broken rig was reduced but we could not forget that we still had a headstay hanging by the halyard sixty feet above our heads. We could have chucked it (and the genoa) overboard by removing a pin at the bottom, but we decided that since conditions were easing so much, we would continue carrying it and hopefully salvaging the headstay. We periodically eased a bit of halyard out to spread out potential chaff spot as we fired up the motor on relatively flat seas with easing winds.
Recuperating after a difficult night
The weather was continuing to soften and we found ourselves in very light
and variable winds under clear and warming skies all day. We expected the wind to continue to veer
around behind us so at about 1400 we fired up the engine for what we
thought would be a relatively short motor until we got a better wind
angle later.
We have about 75 gallons of diesel at this point which should be enough for the rest of the passage, but not by much.
Sagging head stay with the attachment plate pulled away from the top of the mast.
Thursday 1 November: Lots of Sun and Shorts, But Low on Fuel
The wind did not veer and pick up as we hoped/expected - it stayed light and directly on our nose. We spent a lot of time stressing over the dwindling fuel gauge. Lots of typing on a calculator and frowning followed. The wind was definitely not going to cooperate and it was becoming clear that we would likely be motoring the rest of the way and would cut it very close with fuel. Our calculations, even being extra conservative, indicated we should have enough fuel but the gauge did not agree.
The lights of Bermuda were just beginning to illuminate a patch of the sky on the distant horizon. Our destination seemed
so close, but it was still 10 or 11 hours away. The fuel gauge did not
look like it had 10 hrs left in it... as it bounced between E and
up to maybe 3/8. At this point, we killed the engine and turned off the tiny bit of wind as Bob was sure we wouldn't make it. Everyone woke up, and we decided to get a first hand look at how much fuel was in the tank... Bob and I pulled the cushions off the port settee and opened the access panel on the top of the tank.
Shining a flashlight down into the hole, and using a kitchen knife as a dip stick, we saw a very reassuring sight: the tank was still at about 40% (which was in line with our calculations). By now we figured we had done about 75% of the required motoring so we were sure we would make it. We fired the engine back up and motored on (checking the diesel level manually via our sophisticated method one more time several hours later... just to be sure).
Jeff and Linda peering up at the wildly swinging head stay hoping it would not come crashing down.
Friday 2 November: Bermuda In Sight and Arrival
All of this time, we still had the main sail up to try and get a little bit of lift, but now the wind was so light and directly on the nose, that it wasn't helping. At about 0200, in the dark cloak of night of course, Bob and I were on watch and we decided to lower the main sail. This routine maneuver turned out to be more stressful and hairy than it should have been. Our lazy jacks had broken at some point earlier in the passage and lowering the main just dumped the huge, slippery sail all over the deck. Bob first tried to bundle the sail with some sail ties but eventually resorted to dock lines. During this operation, Bob lost his balance and nearly had a good fall but managed to catch himself. It was just one more unnerving thing.
As we approached Bermuda on the final stretch, the wind kicked in directly on our nose. We did not attempt to sail both because of the amount of beating needed, but also since the torn jib would have further marginalized our VMG. We knew we had enough fuel to plow directly on.
Happy crew on the home stretch.
Our first contact with Bermuda Radio was an encouraging milestone 20 miles out still in the dark of early morning hours; followed a few hours later in the morning light of overcast skies with radio confirmation upon reaching Mills Buoy that we could proceed through The Town Cut in to St George Harbor and the customs dock.
Motoring through The Town Cut in to St. George Harbor with our sagging headstay, lose genoa, ripped jib, and messily bundled main sail.
A ritual upon arrival after a long passage is a toast with Dark-n-Stormy's. But Lance and Jeff jumped in to action as soon as we tied to the seawall taking down the damaged sails and removing the headstay. The DnS's would wait a bit longer.
Taking down the torn up sails for repairs.
Carefully lowering the head stay.
Evaluating the twisted head stay and busted roller furler.
We salvaged what we could from the outer headstay, including some of the furling drum parts, pins and other rigging hardware. The foil itself was deemed trash. Bob borrowed a torch from Steve Hollis to try and disassemble it, but quickly switched to a borrowed sawsall to chop it up.
Bits and pieces.
Argon's happy crew with her busted, disassembled head stay.
Argon's neighborhood while awaiting repairs (view from the road leading up to Bermuda Radio).
Close up of the damaged carbon fiber where the attachment plate for the head stay pulled away from the top of the mast.
Now we are immersed in a full damage assessment as well as triangulating communications with the local rigger, Tartan and the insurance company. We are immensely grateful that we all made it to Bermuda with only minor injuries (lots of bruises), a broken but repairable sailboat, and relationships stronger than when we departed. Just a spot of bother.
Ten months, 5000nm, 18 countries, 80 harbors. One broken collar bone, clogged head and seized up water pump. Hundreds of cruising friends met. Below are some more data and figures of our extended cruise.
Captain Linda Perry Riera
Back in Boston
As I write this post, we are overlooking the Boston skyline from a
favorite anchoring spot, Peddocks Island, part of Boston Harbor Island National Park. We will sail the short hop to
Constitution Marina tomorrow which was our departure
point ten glorious months ago. This trip as been an unbelievable adventure in so many
ways. Below are some of the analytic aspects of our voyage.
Argon's grand loop: 5000nm
(5754 statute miles), 15 countries, approximately 80 harbors.
Boston skyline from the anchorage at Peddocks Island last night. A fitting time to reflect as we return to our starting point.
Many Wonder, Few Ask: How much does a trip like this cost?
There is a range of how to approach an extended cruise from a lifestyle and thus financial perspective and scant specific information out there. During our planning phase I would read Beth Leonard's The Voyagers Handbook in the evenings (while sprawling on my king sized bed... oooohh, to sleep on a big bed again; I digress). Beth's book is a wonderful resource for learning about passage planning, watch keeping, anchoring, sail handling, living aboard, etc. A particularly interesting section is devoted to finances and is highly recommended for anyone considering an extended cruise. Below is an estimation of our monthly and total spend.
Disclaimer: We started off with an extremely ready, sea worthy
vessels (and lots of up front investment in to it). Many cruisers we met along the way had older vessels and needed to spend more time and money fixing
things along the way.
Several prior blog posts outline some of our preparations prior to last September:
Our monthly burn rate was a bit higher than we initially forecasted mainly driven by:
Data / connectivity. See blog post Data While CruisingNote: Our (aka Bob's) need for data due to his job is definitely way more than that of the average cruiser. And we have accumulated half a terabyte of photos and videos to upload.
Eating out. One can certainly spend less by cooking aboard vs eating out as much as we did. But we enjoy experiencing the islands by visiting lots of different restaurants and eateries.
Trips. The visits with the boys were fantastic and I am very grateful for the special time with them in gorgeous locations. In
hindsight, we would have chosen less expensive locales. Two of the three countries we selected for visits were extremely expensive: Bermuda and Turks & Caicos.
Docking more than planned (vs. anchoring which is free). Dock fees would vary widely from $40 to $160 per night. (The lower priced docks were only basic tie ups with no electricity or water.) Sometimes we docked to be more secure in high winds, or to be able to
get shore power to run the air conditioner a bit (to dry out the boat
even more so than to cool it), and to give Argon an occasional good
exterior washing. We extended dock time in St. Maarten to give Bob's collar bone some time to heal and in TCI due to bad weather and waiting for boat parts.
Some added notes about spending
Boat
insurance - Many cruisers deem this optional or too expensive and opt
out. Some marinas require insurance for dockage. I suspect shipyards will also require if a haul out is needed. Our insurance premium was quite high due to our scant off shore experience prior to the trip and the associated dangers with the long off shore passages (and shorthanded crew). In the future, our premiums should be less as our experience is now much more robust. Medical insurance - Many cruisers are a bit older than we are and seem to have medical insurance either through their retirement package and/or Medicare (if US) or national insurance, of course, if from outside the US. We both purchased private, basic policies through the healthcare exchange last year and planned to mostly pay out of pocket for minor needs.
Income
Bob continued working remotely throughout the trip, more than planned at about 20-30 hours per week which was good to help address the ad hoc hits and lessen the savings drain.
I had put aside $40K from my savings prior to the trip. This is gone; time for me to get back to work I guess. (I left my job July 2016.)
YouTube sailing channel and ad revenue from blog: Well, we are not popular enough to make more than a couple of dollars a month here... yet.
Bob continued his software engineering on the high seas and anchored in harbors. The work sometimes took him away from land exploration but provided nice income to off set expenses. I immensely enjoyed the freedom from paid work for a while (although the paycheck is missed).
Cost of Cruising vs. Cost of Living on Land
This is a discussion Bob and I have had several times when we estimate the cost of this trip. The above representation does not compare the expenses of living on land in a house and weekend boating expenses to the cost of living aboard and setting off on an extended cruise. Many of the expenses above would have been incurred even if we had not been cruising (groceries, eating out, boat parts, cell phones as well as many of the boat related expenses). In addition, we have not been spending money for a year or more on the following:
personal cars and associated insurance, maintenance, gas, repairs
home mortgage, taxes, insurance, maintenance and repairs
accumulating stuff to fill and replenish home
summer dock slip, winter haul out and storage
I guess one might be able to rationalize that we saved money on this trip. :-)
Although $68K sounds like a lot, this was our total expenditure for 10 months of living. Intense living filled with unique adventure, travel, challenge and beauty. It was worth every penny.
Fuel
There are a few reasons why most long distance cruisers are in sailboats, not power boats: (1) sea steadiness / handling in big waters, (2) cost of fuel, and (3) travel distance with available fuel. We strive to sail as much as possible but firing up the diesel is necessary when winds have died as well as for motoring in to and out of harbors. In addition, the alternator on the diesel engine will charge our batteries when the solar panels can not keep up such as when we were in higher latitudes (last fall) and when there were extended periods of overcast. We consumed 270 gallons of diesel overall.
We track the diesel consumption rate to ensure we know our range on a tank of fuel:
The fuel consumption rate is generally about 0.8-0.9 gal/hour when we are motoring in to and out of harbors and in transit due to low wind. The rate was lower around November when we were in Bermuda and having to run the engine a bit just to charge the batteries as the low, late season sun was not quite sufficient for our solar panels.
At 0.8 gal/hour we can run the diesel for 96 hours. Depending on conditions, this would yield a range of about 675nm. This is important to know for the extended off shore trips should the need arise to motor substantially.
Our most efficient trip may have been from Hampton, VA to Bermuda 650nm (748miles) using only about 0.6 gallons diesel which translates to 2,247 miles/gal (I'm feeling very green). However, total gallons consumed these past ten months were 270 which for a 5000nm (5753mile) trip translates to 21
miles/gallon. Diesel price ranged from a high of $7.91/gal in Antigua to lows around $2.60 in North Carolina. Our total spend was about $850 on diesel and about $50 on gasoline for the dinghy. Other than renting a car a few times, we had no automobile expenses this past year.
Feuds and Fights
Bob = introvert, Mr Fix It, keen attention to detail and safety, anxiety prone
Linda = extrovert, big picture, optimistic, not anxious enough
Both = love sailing, Argon, and each other
As friends have commented, Bob and I most definitely find our chi best when sailing. However, there have been a few times during this trip when we butted heads and both wanted nothing more than to get away from each other. Two of these times we were kind of stuck on the boat and I was unable to easily stomp off and away. Argon feels very tiny at times.
We still like each other.
Fishing
Our early fishing success was attributed to Smitty, our third crew person for the six day Bermuda to Antigua passage. This would be followed by a couple of months of being skunked before starting to get hits and bring in fish starting around the waters of Puerto Rico, Turks and Caicos and throughout the Bahamas. The graph below represents mahi, wahoo and barracuda that we landed on the boat (but did not necessarily keep and clean). There were several additional mahi that we came close to landing but lost. It is customary not to eat barracuda in particular as they can be infected with ciguatera so we carefully plied out the lure and threw these mean guys back.
Fishing success kicked in around February.
Mahi mahi caught in Bahamian waters.
We stretched fresh mahi for several days across many meals. Yum!
We switched to using a hand reel instead of a traditional poles in the Bahamas.
Another Project Management Spreadsheet
We lived by a multi tab spreadsheet the 18 or so months prior to our trip to help us organize the many things to do, to buy and to learn. Now we have started a new log of projects to tackle this winter complete with cost estimates, due dates, and completion statuses. Below are a few items on the list.
Upgrades: Reacher fairlead car adjusters, rope clutch replacement (started recently in Mystic), add solar panel (Solbian 50W) and controller - this will increase our (theoretical) power generation from 335 to 385, solar panel controller upgrade, DC to DC converter, aft cabin shelves, nav station instrument, top down furler for spinnaker (not sure), ground tackle (increase from 100 to 150 feet of chain), compass light re-wiring to separate breaker, etc.
Maintenance and replacements: Sails (main, jib, genoa) washed, inspected and repaired; Canvas cleaned and treated, new sail cover, brightwork (teak cap rails, cockpit table, dorade box covers, etc), interior floor varnishing, dinghy outboard servicing, dinghy cleaning and proactive patching, kitchen faucet (done), head hoses (yuk), move stern light, goose neck inspection and new bolts, etc.
But wait, it's still only early July! We have the rest of the summer to spend enjoying the cold (but warming) New England waters. So not to much attention to this spreadsheet just yet!
Argon returning to Mass Bay via the familiar Cape Cod Canal.
Neither Linda or I love the offshore passages. We both get more than a little nervous and anxious as the time of one is approaching. That said, we've both got more than 2400 Nautical Miles offshore on Argon (and I actually have one more Bermuda passage on another boat on top of that).
Bob Damiano
This post is about preparing for and sailing our longest offshore double-handed passage from Grand Bahama to Beaufort, North Carolina. The distance is about 550 nautical miles and we did it in about 70 hours. A video about the experience is at the bottom of this post, or you can just jump to it here (but please read the blog too so you can say "I liked the book more than the movie").
I used to think that sailing offshore is sort of like looking both ways to cross a street, covering your eyes, counting to thirty and then running across as fast as you can. Now that I've done it a few times, I think it's more like counting to fifteen. It's still a really dumb idea.
Building Up To This Passage
We did our first practice offshore passage in 2016 crossing from Boston to Nova Scotia. This passage allowed us to go through all the steps and processes (on a relatively short 52 hour/300nm trip) including hiring a professional weather router, lashing the dingy to the foredeck, communicating using our satellite data system, preparing meals in advance and generally getting Argon into offshore mode. This was also the shakedown cruise for all the upgrades we had done to make Argon an offshore-capable boat.
Bundled up (in July) off of Nova Scotia with a nice wave behind us.
We did most things right. But we learned a lot and made it safely. We broke some stuff and fixed things so they were better than they came from the factory. It was the first time we used Ken McKinley from Locus Weather, and we've used him ever since.
Once the one-year journey started, we did the first two long offshore passages with a third crew member. We had our friend and experienced sailor/racer Lance Ryley along for the Hampton-Bermuda leg and local Bermudian Andrew "Smitty" Smith along for Bermuda to Antigua.
All passages since then have been double-handed.
A quick crew selfie of the three of us on the way to Bermuda
Posing for the camera just an hour before taking off from Bermuda for 850 nautical miles. Our third crew, Smitty in the middle.
That whole thing about "Teach a man to fish..." Well, Capt. Smitty taught us to fish during the Bermuda to Antigua passage. Wahoo for dinner!. We believed it was the bright yellow spinnaker that attracted him.
Having additional crew vs double-handing
There are definitely advantages to having additional crew for a long passage. For one thing, it's much easier to get insurance if you have more crew for offshore. The real benefit of course is the extra set of hands and experience (we've learned so much from our crews each time) and the theoretical additional rest time. I say "theoretical" since we all were having so much fun, there were many times when all three of us would be awake and yapping away in the cockpit. Linda and I definitely had much more peace of mind when we had that third experienced person along with us.
The big plus about going double-handed is flexibility. If Ken McKinley says You can go Monday, but Wednesday is better, we will just go Wednesday. There are no flights to change or cancel and no one is running up against a time constraint or work conflicts. In other words, there is zero incentive to go at any other time but the best time based on conditions.
Until this passage, the longest double-handed offshore passage we had done was San Juan, PR to Grand Turk. This was 365 nautical miles and about 55 hours. It was a moderately tough passage - especially the last 35 miles and we were both surprised at how exhausted we were towards the end.
Putting the dinghy on the foredeck in San Juan for the passage to Grand Turc 365 nautical miles to the northwest.
Day 2 sailing from San Juan to Turks and Caicos.
Autopilot
Another factor in our deciding to go double-handed is that Argon finally has a high performance Autopilot. We noticed during the earlier offshore passages that Argon's A/P just simply was not cutting it in big seas. As a result, these passages were 90% hand-steered! We didn't mind hand-steering that much, but if anything went wrong, it was impossible for whoever was at the helm to let go and help.
While in Turks and Caicos, I decided to try doing a software update for the Autopilot. What I found was that every device aboard Argon was way behind in software updates. On modern Raymarine equipment you just download the update file, put it on an SD card and pop it in your chartplotter. The installer does everything automatically including discovering and installing new firmware into every device it finds. Besides the autopilot, we actually got some fancy new features in our chartplotter and i70 displays.
And just like that, we have a new autopilot!
On our passage from Turks to Long Island, Bahamas, although the conditions were not extremely severe, we noticed right away that the autopilot was doing better - much better! In subsequent passages in all types of conditions, it has proven itself to be ready to really handle the boat in just about anything. You would think a tech geek like me would have done this before we left on the journey, right? Now, I can say that the autopilot steers just about as well as we do. The upside is that we got many, many hours of practice hand steering in some pretty big water.
Planning The Passage To America
Most sailors who return from the Bahamas, jump straight across to Florida. If we wanted, we could have gone due west and landed in Palm Beach in about 7 to 9 hours. We didn't want to do that for a few reasons:
From there, it's a long way up the east coast.
We would miss out on that nice gulf stream boost
We are too tall and too deep for the ICW (and I wouldn't want to do all that motoring even if we did fit), so instead of looking for one weather window, we'd be looking for many as we hopped up the east coast "outside"
It's actually just a day sail back to the US if you want. But then you have to worry about the next 1000 miles
We considered several options for an entry port including (in order of distance) Charleston, SC, Cape Fear, NC, Beaufort, NC, Hampton, VA or even all the way to New York City. Ultimately we chose the 550 nautical mile route from Grand Bahama to Beaufort, NC. Having some friends and family there made the decision even easier. This would get us a long way up the east coast and it should be a pretty fast ride as more than half of it would be riding the stream.
A note about the photos. Our awesome Panasonic FZ200 after years of abuse on a sailboat has finally bit the dust. All of the offshore photos and videos have been taken with the GoPro. Once in Beaufort and with access to Amazon (ain't America great?), we upgraded to an FZ300.
Preparing
We started looking for a weather window while we were still in Port Lucaya, Grand Bahama (near Freeport). We wanted to jump off from West End, Grand Bahama about 36 miles to the north-west. When Ken came back with a window starting just three days later, we got ourselves up to West End as quickly as we could and then had just one day to do all offshore preparations.
Without a lot of time, we dove into the usual offshore prep routine.
Mount the dinghy outboard to the stern rail and secure it
Hoist the dingy to the foredeck and lash it down securely
Lash down dinghy gas tank and extra diesel jug
Fill diesel and water tanks
Stow everything securely below
Prepare the passage bunk
Test the Satellite system
Review weather data
Provision and cook several healthy, easy on the stomach meals
Install the jackline in the cockpit so we can always be tethered in (deck jacklines are always rigged)
Inspect, inspect and inspect some more
Get some rest
After that was all done, we had a lovely dinner at the marina and tried to have a relaxing night. Departure was to be noon the next day with a planned arrival mid day in Beaufort, NC about 70 hours later.
Our first and last night in West End, Grand Bahama. Giant Fishing Tournament starting the next day.
Celebratory final toast to our fantastic Caribbean winter and our last night in the islands.
A few hours before leaving with Argon fully prepped, Linda poses for a girl-power shot.
Final WX Forecast from Ken at Locus Weather
With conditions generally favorable for riding the Gulf Stream, and an eddy southeast of Cape Fear producing adverse current for an approach to the southwestern North Carolina coast, the following waypoints are suggested:
West End
26.8N/79.5W
30.0N/79.5W
32.2N/78.4W
33.5N/76.8W
Beaufort
Boat speed estimates have been increased to 9 knots for the run north to the east of Florida with gulf stream current speeds of nearly 2 knots in that area, then 8 knots has been used from there northeastward along the route where the current speeds are not as consistently strong. With a desire to arrive near midday atBeaufort, a departure time from West End in the early afternoon tomorrow should accomplish this.
The forecast is presented for departure from West End early tomorrow afternoon, and assumes a route defined by the waypoints above.
Time: Thursday early afternoon 4/27/2017 (1400 EDT, 1800 GMT)
Expected approximate position: departing West End, Bahamas
Forecast Winds: SSE 11-15 kts
Forecast Sea State: 1-3 ft.
Comments: Fair weather. Winds a bit stronger and seas a bit higher once into the Gulf Stream, but not unusually short or steep.
Comments: Partly cloudy. Winds increasing and seas building overnight.
The Route
Basically, the plan was to head pretty much west from West End, Grand Bahama as far as 79:30.0W and then turn due north riding the stream. From there, we had a few way points to follow to maximize the stream and head toward Beaufort.
The general waypoints for our route.
The Passage
The conditions for the passage were overall quite moderate. We actually had port lights open for ventilation at times - a big no-no generally, but it was very hot and extremely settled at the time. The overnights were actually when conditions got the most robust. The first two overnights had winds into the high teens and low twenties with Argon screaming along in the stream at over 10 knots! Seas got up into the 1.5 to 2 meter range overnight but then seemed to settle down during the days.
There was not too much traffic to contend with either. Linda did radio a Japanese tanker on one of her overnight watches as the AIS indicated we would pass less than a mile apart. The tanker confirmed Argon was to hold course and the tanker altered her heading slightly to pass safely.
A shot of me at the helm from the passage bunk. Why isn't she sleeping during her off time? (notice the open port lights offshore)
Beautiful sunrises and sunsets every day. We were very conscious that these were our final miles before being back in the US.
Reading, not sleeping.
Sailing downwind at 8kts on flat seas in the gulf stream. Why would anyone do the ICW?
Linda takes a selfie on one of her night watches.
Arm shot selfie on our last sunset offshore.
Sunrise approaching Beaufort!
Fish On!
Conditions were so benign the first day, that we decided to put out a fishing line. I recently had put together a hand line
setup with a "yoyo" and this is what we used. Before long, it caught some sea
grass. I reeled it in, cleaned and put it back out. Before I even took
the line off the yoyo, it got hit hard! The hand line setup has a bungee
cord that leaves a loop in the heavy line. Once that loop pulls tight,
it sets the hook automatically. From then on, there is no elasticity in
the system. You reel the dyneema and heavy fishing line up on the yoyo.
We managed to keep this nice Mahi Mahi on and get it into the cockpit
where we gave it the Guadeloupe Rum in the Gills Treatment (this rum is too
disgusting to drink and is only used for killing fish or cleaning engine
parts).
First catch with the Hand Line and probably our last fish for a long, long time. The yoyo is on the floor behind me.
Zig-Zags
It's all well and good to say "go due north until point x,y", but when the wind is directly behind the boat as it was, it was very difficult to maintain this direction. The winds were mostly in the low to mid teens for much of the passage and when you factor in that the stream is pushing us at 2kts, it's hard to keep the sails full. We ended up gybing back and forth in the stream and here is where we made a bit of a tactical error. We centered the gybes on 79:30W which upon further analysis of the stream data was just on the eastern edge of the fastest current. So each time we gybed east, we actually fell out of the stream and lost some speed. Once we figured out this was happening, we kept more west in the fastest part of the stream. The good news is that with 2kts of current behind you, a gybe that would normally change your direction 30 degrees changes it by more like 20 over ground. This made it possible to point the boat a little higher and get some speed while still going quite north-ish. I'm sure our racing friends are saying "well... why didn't you fly the chute?".
A few of our zig-zags from our track. Go west, young man!
With the sea state so calm and wind direction so consistent, we were able to do quite a bit of wing on wing sailing
Reflection
On the last evening, it all started to sink in. After
seven months in the Caribbean and Bahamas, we were about to see our very last
sunset over the ocean. We were also seeing some of our last deep blue
water which unless you've seen it, no description of the color and texture can do justice. Photos and videos never capture it.
We've also seen the last of the wonderful people of the Caribbean and
Bahamas. We've met so many people who have so much less than us and yet
are more welcoming and friendly and open than anyone from the first
world. It makes you realize that they have life figured out right. It took me months to stop wondering "what does he want?" when someone would be friendly to us. Do I have to re-learn that now? Anyway, on to
'merca.
Taking a moment to think about how lucky we've been to do this and all the things we'll miss going forward.
Motoring
This was a surprise, but we ended up motoring much of the last twelve hours. This was a disappointment, of course, but on the other hand, I would rather have these conditions than the other end of the scale. Although there was some motoring, we had mostly very fast sailing on this passage. Argon was consistently doing 10 knots over ground the first and second nights!
A blurry shot of the i70s showing us doing only 9.7kts over ground.
On-Time Arrival
On the morning after our third overnight, Beaufort Inlet was just over the horizon. Soon, we saw Cape Lookout Light flashing every 15 seconds (just like the chart says it should). Navigating Beaufort Inlet is relatively easy and we were arriving just after low slack tide. We found our way to the Beaufort Town Docks which would be our home for the next seven days while we waited to proceed around Cape Hatteras to Hampton, VA. We were tied up by 10AM making the passage just 70 hours as planned.
We arrived on a Sunday and so the local Customs and Border Patrol office was not open. We kept our Quarantine flag up and didn't cause any international incidents. At 9AM Monday, we were visited by two officers who cleared us in quickly with no issues (except our eggs. we had to cook our eggs). Did we leave the boat before we cleared in? Next question, please.
Motoring the final leg in to Beaufort inlet.
Tied up in Beaufort. Time to get some sleep
The lovely boardwalk in Beaufort
Being Townies
Linda's relative Vic Fasolino and his wife Lora live in Beaufort these days after previously living in Rhode Island and New Jersey. They have managed to become local fixtures in the town (everyone we met knew them). Vic is a passionate wooden boat builder and has quite a nice shop set up in Beaufort. His boat building website is here.
Dinner at Vic and Lora's lovely and inviting home.
The house that Vic and Lora built (yes, they really did).
Vic Showing me one of his current in-progress boats,
I was very impressed with Vic's shop and tooling that he had set up.
One of Vic's Toys. This is a working fully autonomous wooden boat. There
is a gps-driven auto pilot under the seat which Vic can program
waypoints into. Vic and Lora will paddle to town for breakfast and have
the skeleton boat follow them. Big hit with the locals and tourists!
This skeleton rides his trike in the local parades.
One of the street puppets Vic built for local parades.
I Work Too Much
While I slaved away at my day Job, Linda got to go sailing on one of Vic's sailboats (one that happens to be for sale by the way). The day they went out was a small craft advisory day with pretty brisk winds.
The lovely gaff rigged sloop that Linda and Vic sailed. This was built in Vic's shop.
So much wind that day, they tried sailing for a while with no main sail. Didn't work so well.
We picked a good week to be in Beaufort as the wooden boat show was happening. Other activities included the boat building challenge where teams are given identical materials and a design and have four hours to build a boat. That is followed by a race of course.
One of the events at the boat building museum we got invited to (or crashed).
One of the boats on display in the museum workshop.
One of the teams (the winner) in the Boat Building Challenge. These guys were way ahead of all the other competition.
Nearly Finished.
Another one of Vic's creations. A viking boat.
Yes, of course it breathes fire.
Linda, Vic and Lora after a long day working the show.
Leaving Beaufort
There was quite a stretch of weather after we arrived in Beaufort. We contacted Ken about a window to get around Cape Hatteras and there were not a lot of good choices. Eventually it came down to Leave Monday or you may be stuck for at least another ten days. So we left Monday. The window wasn't ideal but it was the best we were going to get for some time. We figured there would be some motoring involved but when rounding the notorious Cape Hatteras, it's better to err on the too calm side.
We decided to spend our last night anchored inside of Lookout Bight near the light. What a beautiful spot this is and it shaved about 15 miles off our passage up to Hampton, Virginia.
Argon anchored in the calm Bight with Cape Lookout Light behind us.
Beautiful dunes and scenery.
Could be a windows desktop picture, no?
This is a Bird Watchers paradise.
The Movie
Linda captured lots of footage of the preparation and the passage which have made it into another one of our videos.
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