CAPTAIN'S LOG
SEA DATE 13 JUNE 2009
St. Maarten to Bermuda. Bermuda to Azores
Dear all,
Before I send, we are currently at the North most part of Spain, Port Lligat where Salvidor Dali built a large residence. We will be taking a peek at it later on today. This evening we will cross the Bay of Lions named because the wind roars done the northern part of the Pyrinesse (spelling?) from the Bay of Biscay. Forecast for this evening is SouthWest Force 5 to 6 so we should be okay.
Now onward, but remember ..... if you don’t change the direction you are headed, you will end up where you are going.
Or as the snail said, “HERE WE GO ......….
We are finally crossing the Pond. Our first leg is to Bermuda.”
On this leg we had run out of went regarding contact with Eric our weather man at Trinidad. Historically at 0630 hours I would listen to Eric on the ham radio. There were about a dozen or so ham radio operators around the Caribbean who would give him the local weather summary including wind (“pardon”) direction (I said what?) and velocity (bloomin’ ‘eck I said), along with pressure (nothing), humidity (good lord), cloud type and cover (good grief). That's just the underwear. Odd chaps the weather men. Eric is as English as they come and on completion of a summary, he would always finish with “ ......... well - thats that for that”. Many of the cruisers in the Caribbean would listen to him on their Single Side Band radios but there are not many ham radio operators, so were unable to give the weather. To clarify; a ham radio operator requires an operators license and we can give and receive on more channels than a single side band radio operator. Single side band radios can be owned and operated without a license. If a ham radio operator is listening to ham radio channels, she (or in fact he) cannot legally transmit.
Eric is the local Trinidadian TV weatherman and I guess he would use the info for his daily report supplied by the various people around the Caribbean. Not all sailors - quite a lot of the local people would check in as well.
So thats that for that, we can no longer receive Eric, and on to our new weather man called Herb.
Herb is a Canadian East Coaster who we are told is ex Army or ex Navy. Proper protocol and all. Good news as it saves on a lot of dribble that tends to waft its way out of the radio.
Before we left St. Maarten (as we all know is the Dutch side) and St. Marten (the French side) we met a Dutch couple on board a Dehler 38 called Yara. As Cam said, typical Dutch. Brutally competent. They left mid morning and we left early afternoon. We kept in contact on the radio from St. Maarten to Bermuda. The man has a wicked sense of humour and had us in stitches several times on our way across.
Third day out and the breeze picks up. Wind on the stern (back part of vassel) quarter (half a half) starboard (right) side and the seas are building. At 1540 hours the wind jumps from 10 to 20 plus knots. Our speed over the ground jumps from 6 knots to over 9 knots. 1900 hours we have the main fully reefed and just a ‘kerchief of genoa out. Seas are 4 metres plus but the problem with them is the distance between the peaks. They are all pretty close together so are quite steep. Rather confused seas. Cam and I are out in the cockpit discussing harnesses - “in the bloody cockpit” of all places. To quote my Dad ... “Stone the crows and starve the bloody lizards .......... ” So discretion being the better part of valour, I said to Cam, “we are now in survival mode, too rough, forget the bloody harnesses we will do our watch inside.” Fortunately we have 360 degree view from inside the boat so we can do our watches in (sort of) luxury. I also don’t like the seas on our stern quarter with them being pretty close together. They lift the back end up a tad.
I bring her up into the wind so the seas are now on our starboard bow and I let the mainsail out quite a long way. She stays in this position very well and the comfort level goes up ten fold. We are now making about 2 knots backwards over the ground. The wind and sea was blowing us backwards which I found out later was the best way of keeping the boat under control when in a heavy sea. The boat creates a kind of slip on the wave in front of it and smoothes the water down. We need to keep a little way on over the water to keep our steerage up although we are going backwards over the seas. Go figure.
Wind now (reasonably) steady between 30 to 33 knots.
I am on watch from 0100 to 0400 hours and the log is as follows .....
“ .......... been rather breezy - 38 knots earlier on Cam’s watch. Seas probably classified as Bloody lumpy - been some doozies “over” the boat but she is fairing very well. God bless her. Sleeping is a challenge. We need to keep her speed up to > 2.0 knots or she stalls. I ease her off 20 degrees if it gets too slow.”
Only lasted a few hours so at 0530 hours the following morning we shook out a reef on Jane’s watch and changed course back to pointing at Bermuda. As Jane notes in her log “out with a bit of genoa our speed is now 7+ knots - yippee!
Our friends on Yara kept aiming at Bermuda while we put our nose into the wind so they continued on their path in the right direction. We spotted them at 1300 hours and spoke to them on the radio. 250 miles to Bermuda. Good run over the last 24 hours. Hit the magic 200 miles.
A little too much wind now and its night time. We don’t want to arrive at a port at night time cos hitting a bit of terra firma can ruin yer morning - or night. Furled in a bunch of genoa and slowed down as much as possible. Arrived in Bermuda 0845 hours.
Fortunately our only problem was a blown block at the base of mast. Part of our reefing system. My fault. I told Cam to grind in the reefing line when I should have said let it out. These big electric grinders have a lot of grunt. Very happy that it wasn’t a fault of the boat. I would not have liked that.
Checked into Bermuda customs. Very helpful and extremely well mannered. A pleasure to arrive. Through a Kiwi contact at FKG rigging (the company that did all our rigging work at St. Maarten) we met the owner of the local sail maker. He ordered two more blocks and had them couriered into Bermuda. Three days. Fantastic. We also picked up a near new Yamaha outboard as our old one was over heating quite a lot. I was too busy in St. Maarten doing other stuff so didn’t have a chance to repair it. New one is 30 hp as opposed to the 9.9 on the wee one. Cost two boat units. One boat unit is $1000.
As I proof read this - we are in a gorgeous bay in Menorca - poor Jane is having problems. It is ten in the morning and she is reading a book in the cockpit. The breeze is just coming up and the boat keeps moving around. The poor soul has had to move three times in the last 15 minutes to keep out of the sun. It’s tough out here.
Cam and Kim leave us in Bermuda and we take on new crew. Dick and Lawrence. Dick is a Kiwi and has sailed cats for many years. Its actually all his fault that we have a catamaran. Thanks Dick. He has raced hobie catamarans for a long time so I am hoping to learn a thing or three. Fortunately, Dick has the same demeanor as Cam and can’t sit still. Dick sees cruising as an opportunity to do a lot of boat work and if there is a chance to do a little sailing - what a bonus. Dick would walk around the boat looking for things to improve and fortunately he found quite a lot of little niggley things that I found rather irritating. He fixed them all up. He was a huge help and always stepped up to the plate. Again, so similar to Cam. What Jane and I like in guests on the boat, are ones that don’t have to be asked to do stuff. Being a creature of habit, I would always go straight to the galley after a meal and start doing the dishes. Thats true Mum, it really is. Honest I do ...... See, we WERE drugged up proper like. Anyway, both Cam and Dick would always jump in front of me and tell me to bugger off. Talk about rude! Mind you, I listen to them as I didn’t want to hurt their feelings. Both are super sensitive blokes just like me,
We are now on our way across the “real” pond.
Bermuda to the Azores.
The ARC (Atlantic Rally for Cruisers) left yesterday at noon and we departed at 0645 hours. Three reefs in. Wind on the nose. Nothing new.
The trip to Bermuda was easy as far as the wind and course (direction we steer) goes. We just had to aim the boat at Bermuda.
Bermuda to the Azores. Different story. Wind varies a lot as far as the direction and strength is concerned. Basically we head northish (north east) for a couple of hundred miles and then turn right. At 1300 hours all sail is out and we are up to 7 knots. Over the next 48 hours the wind is around 10 knots. Not what we ordered.
Blast (Bugger).
Wind up and down like a damned yo yo. Anything between 1 knot and 12 knots. East, south, north east, west etc. all over a 12 hour period. Two reefs in, shake them all out, pop up the spinnaker, take it down.
Next day is a tad more consistent. Direction anyway. Mostly behind us or on the stern quarter which is REALLY what we like. The stern quarter? Look backwards and turn your head about a quarter of a turn. Not quite up the freckle. Keeps the sails full and the apparent wind speed drops a lot. Very important because we reef on the apparent wind speed and not the true wind speed. Best way of describing the difference between the two is this. Picture yourself farting and the wind is ejected at say 50 miles per hour. If you run forward at 10 miles an hour, your apparent fart speed is 50 less the 10 = 40 miles an hour of apparent fart. Apparent wind speed works the same way.
Sooooo when we are sailing down wind (as it were - that is with the wind up the freckle) we put in our first reef at 18 knots of apparent wind. If we are going 9 knots, we put the reef in at 18 knots of apparent wind plus the 9 knots that we are moving, which is 27 knots of REAL wind. This means we can go fast and also safe, which I like a lot.
Back to the start of previous paragraph plus one, wind on our stern quarter but the speed varies quite a lot. From 12 knots to 29 knots over 24 hours. Mind you, we also have good boat speed which is good news. Another 200 mile day. Kewl.
While all this is going on we are chasing what we think will be good wind. (I said - what?) On the ham radio we receive grib files. The grib file tells us the direction and speed of the wind. We don’t like the wind on the nose (remember - gentlemen don’t sail to windward, and fortunately we have Dick on board) and we prefer wind not in excess of 25 to 30 knots. We would discuss (read - argue) as to what direction we should go, and as a good benign dictator, I would always listen sometimes to what everyone else has to say. 10 or 20 degrees difference in our course could be the difference in wind speed and wind direction to make it a good steady 10 knots of boat speed in the right direction or a slow speed or just too windy and uncomfortable.
Log:
0815 hours. Wind 15 knots. Direction 018. Sea 8 feet. Barometer 1027. Set course at 100 magnetic on auto (not wind vane) unfurled all genoa.
0915 hours. Yada yada yada Course 95 magnetic
1015 hours. Yada yada yada. Shook out 3rd reef
Yada yada yada. Course 95 magnetic
1515 hours. Course change - eased off 40 degrees to 135
1545 hours. Crew revolting - Agreed 125 Auto
Can’t get decent help at all these days ...
Then it is just .... course change course change course change as the wind continues to veer (go clockwise)
We also get weather from Herb in Canada (go back to the start - there will be a test at the end of this) and we get him on the Ham radio at about 1700 hours. Everyone calls up with their latitude and longitude position and an hour later he comes back and tells us all where to go. Gives us all a four day route to follow and he is ALWAYS right on the button.
F f f f f f f further to that, we also have my buddy Adrian from Vancouver emailing his weather interpretation as well as Jane’s brother Jamie. We receive weather reports from all these sources and put them against the grib files that we receive by way of emails with the ham radio and make our decision to go further north or south depending on weather we want more or less wind. We spent 2 days following a big long isobar that was giving us around 25 knots of wind on the stern quarter. If we went 20 miles or so north we would have had 30 to 35 knots, and further south sweet fanny adams (sfa) of wind. (That means bugger all, not much, less etc)
Next day (or so) the wind picks up around the wee small hours. Luckily we have a reefing system that is an absolute doddle to use. We don’t have to go up to the mast to reef. Even better, it is absolutely weese in the hand (= piece of piss, easy to accomplish and so fifth) to reef with the wind behind us. We just make sure that the sail is dead amidships.
0042 hours. Came left (port) 5 degrees to 125 magnetic. Wind steady at 30 knots. Boat speed 10 knots. Apparent wind 20 knots. Two reefs and half the genoa.
0240 hours. Going like a bloody train. 12 knots of boat speed. 30 knot breeze.
This is really exciting stuff. The noise the boat makes is tremendous and at night the efflorescence coming off each hull looks just like a rocket. It feels fast, and it is - for us anyway. there are other cats that will be doing 15 to 20 knots in these conditions but they are considerably lighter with less room inside. No washing machine or vast workshop. We had times where we were sitting on a steady 12 plus knots for several hours. Highest speed 15.7 knots.
A 212 mile day
Problem is sleeping. With a catamaran, we make two bow waves. Interestingly, the inside bow waves meet in the middle of the boat just below the saloon table. Table actually jumps up from the force of the waves below. The waves then split and head off towards the other hull and smack against that with a BANG, right beside our bed.
See, it IS tough out here.
Fortunately we are also keeping an eye on the barometer. We log it each hour along with wind direction, wind speed, boat speed, miles covered, latitude and longitude, course over ground, the course that the auto-helm is set for, and the sea state.
Barometer dropping each hour.
From 1022 to 1016 over 7 hours.
Whoops (bugger.)
Wind sustained 34 to 38 knots.
Struth.
Maximum gust 44 knots.
Bloody hell
Three reefs in the mainsail and a wee bit of Genoa out.
Why a little genoa? Helps to keep her balanced.
Going like a rocket but she is as steady as a rock. Wind on the stern quarter as are the seas. Seas are a long way apart (well, sort of) so our back end isn’t getting lifted.
Actually, the seas are pretty big, but only about 10 feet plus so not too dodgy.
Poor Lawrence. He has only been sailing a short time. Less than a year. He wanted dearly to do the trip. He told me he was scared shitless. His cabin is port side forward and he gets the noise of the seas before we have the opportunity to enjoy them. He has also just finished a book on the Vendee Globe. That is the ultimate single handed sailing race on 60 foot racing boats. These are very light boats and go like stink. They start in France turn left and head down to the Antarctic. Into the Roaring Forties and then a little lower to the flying Fifties dodging in and out of icebergs. These boats fall over quite regularly, lose keels rather too often and somebody usually dies down there. Scary stuff. He also just finished a book about a trimaran that fell over after leaving Picton in New Zealand. Four guys on board and they drifted for three months before turning up just off Auckland. For Lawrence, I am guessing a flight would have been quicker. So here he is with us and hearing all the noise of the rigging and waves crashing against the hull and all.
It is especially fun when we get going over ten knots. The hull noise changes drastically and you can feel the speed of the boat. Really exciting.
The wild life out here is interesting. No discos or peeler bars. But, we have had dolphins cruising our bow waves. We saw a very large fish (or mammal) with a dorsal fin, but it disappeared into the murky depths. Never really liked the big chaps. Usually have a large appetite. We have also been followed by a bird since leaving Bermuda. The feathered variety. Dick knows its the same bird as he has a little fleck under his right eye.
Log:
1040 hours. Gybed to new course.
1105 hours. Our bird from Bermuda is gone. Must have missed the gybe!
Now about 250 miles from the Azores. Wind behind us and not a lot of it. Ten knots.
Up goes the spinnaker. We run it all day and until my watch at 0100 hours in the morning.
From about 2300 hours (two hours earlier) I can hear the wind gradually increasing. I am in bed trying to get some shut eye before my watch.
Dicks note in log:
2310 hours. Wind up to 15 knots. Doing 7.5 knots dead down wind. Spinnaker up, no mainsail. Apparent wind 7.5 knots. I wonder what the threshold for dumping the chute is? All smooth. Boat running great. Nice moon. Nice visibility.
I am woken at 0100 hours for my watch.
Log:
0100 hours. Wind jumped from 15 to 24 knots due to encroaching dark cloud.
Dropped kite. Russell on sock (its a thing that snuffs the spinnaker) but got lifted a couple of times. Decided to use winch. Lot easier. Advantage? Russell stays on deck
Wind down to 20 knots. All genoa out and 5.5 knots boat speed.
Little note. When we use the spinnaker, we drop the mainsail. It was dark so didn’t bother raising the main after dropping the chute. The 5.5 knots is with no mainsail.
We arrive at the Azores 0530 hours just after sunrise.
I am going to do another epistle for the final leg and onwards as these are turning into major epistles.
Must sign off.
Just a little note as I go, spell check is a complete waste of time as they can’t spell like proper like in North America. There are no metres, only meters, no dunnies only heads or toilets, no colours (are they still in the dark ages?), no manana which is odd as they are pretty close to Mexico, no valour and certainly no humour. And that’s no joke.
Signing off
Her Jane
Me Russell