On October 31, 2017 I flew down to Norfolk, VA to meet my good friends Trip and
Nicole aboard
Kalyra, their Tayana 37. The plan was to help them sail
Kalyra
down to the US Virgin Islands. Lyle, the fourth crew member, was already on
board. I knew Lyle from a previous trip to Bermuda. The voyage was
expected to be about 10 days long.
Goodbye Norfolk
We spent the 1st doing some last minute provisioning, weather checking and
enjoying the city of Norfolk. The forecast was light winds for almost the
entire forecast window (about 5 days).
There is a typical migration pattern followed by many (hundreds?) of cruisers
every fall at the end of the Hurricane season on November 1st. After a
summer spent sailing up north in a more moderate climate and, most
importantly, out of the hurricane zone everybody starts heading south to
Florida, the Bahamas or the Caribbean. To get to the Caribbean, there are two
choices.
It's possible to follow the Intracoastal Waterway all the way to Florida and then fight
the trade winds as you island hop to the east. They call this route the thorny
path because of the unpleasant, upwind bash required to get from Florida to the
windward islands. This route has the advantage of requiring almost no hops of
over 12 hours and the convenience of the Intracoastal, but it's slow and boring.
Fighting directly into the trade winds will likely be uncomfortable and
require lots of motoring.
Alternatively, there is the off shore route. This usually means leaving from
somewhere in the northeast - say Boston, Newport, NYC or Norfolk VA. The plan
is to get across the Gulf Stream as quickly and easily as possible. The strong
northerly current of the stream can make for very rough conditions especially when
combined with early winter gales spinning off the east coast or when winds and
current are contrary. After traversing the stream the plan is to make as much
easting as possible in order to catch the trade winds for an easy beam reach on
the long southern leg.
hitchhiker hundreds of miles from land
There are several organized groups of boats that meet up at one of the northern
ports, share weather briefings, meals and strategies before all departing on (or
about) the same date. These include the Salty Dawg Rally and the ARC 1500. We
didn't sign up for either of these but Trip did listen in on their SSB nets in
order to eke out weather information.
The Ocean Crusing Club (OCC) is an organization of a different sort. It's not
geared towards any particular location or time of year. It's a club for long
distance sailors with a tough entry requirement - a non-stop passage of at least
1000 miles. Trip and Nicole decided to sign up considering our passage would
easy qualify them (and us crew) for membership. Signing up to the OCC had one
very nice perk right off the bat. Another member allowed Kalyra to use some
dock space in Norfolk at no cost. This sure made the stay in Norfolk much
easier and more affordable.
Our plan was to take the offshore route but we badly underestimated the distance
from Norfolk to St. Thomas and the average speed we might expect to make.
We started off from Norfolk on the 1st and motored out of the Chesapeake Bay into
the Atlantic Ocean in very light winds. It was impressive to go past, often
quite close to, the many enormous Navy ships scattered throughout the Norfolk
area.
I think the passage can be broken up into 3 phases. Getting through the Gulf
Stream, making some easting and then the slow slog south. It's surprising how
much the days blend into one another when I think back now about the trip.
Perhaps that's not surprising considering how little the scenery changes.
As predicted, the winds were light from the start and we had to do quite a bit
of motoring. The highlight of this part of the trip were the many sea birds and
porpoises. We even saw whale spouts though they were a bit too far to see much
of the whales themselves. If there was one change in the scenery along the
entire route it was during this phase. As we passed through the stream the
water changed in color to a deep blue turquoise that I never grew tired of
staring down into.
We quickly settled into the watch system that was to dominate our time for the
remainder of the journey. I'm a light sleeper so I found it pretty easy to be
woken every few hours to start my next watch.
After getting through the stream we had a string of about 4 days I will never
forget. The seas were flat, the winds just strong enough to move us along at
about 4 knots and they were so consistent we barely had to touch the sails. I
remember the four of us sitting in the cockpit, relaxed, enjoying a good meal
and thinking it never gets any better than this. It was ocean sailing to
perfection.
The last phase of the trip was, by far, the toughest. It
had became clear to us that we badly underestimated the length of the
passage. I hadn't brought enough clothes and flights home would be missed. Even
with fair winds, we would need at least 14 days for the trip but fair winds we
did not have. We were cursed with either no wind or southerly winds for the
remainder of our sail. We had already used much of our fuel so we were forced
to slowly tack back and forth fighting for every mile south. From here on the
Trade Winds will forever be known by the four of us as the Traitor Winds.
To make matters worse, I was seasick for about 2 days starting on the 10th day
out. I used a patch (Scopolamine) when we set out and was not sick at all. The
seas were calm when we left so I may not have needed anything. On about the
10th day out, the seas were taking us from the aft quarter and causing the boat
to yaw. This, combined with a meal that may not have agreed with me, made me
feel terrible. I was lucky that the other crew felt fine and let me sleep though
a couple of my watches. I waited too long to put on another patch
because doing anything down below when you are seasick seems impossibly
difficult. Nicole was good enough to find the last patch for me. She also
prepared some watermelon which really seemed to hydrate and energize me.
About 12 hours after applying the patch, I was feeling great again.
Nicole's breakfast burritos
Nicole and Lyle seem immune to seasickness. Nicole was able to work in the
galley in all but the worse conditions and produce delicious, often complicated
meals night after night. Best of all were her morning breakfast burritos. Lyle
did his share of dish washing and most of mine. He used buckets of salt water
saving our precious fresh water. I can't imagine how much tougher the passage
would have been without them.
We also saw rain and squalls for the first time. The long stretches of rain were
tough because everything inside and out gets wet and humid. It's painful to wake
up at 2am, climb into wet foulies and go topside to sit on a wet cushion and
face yet more rain. Squalls are a different kind of beast. They are annoying
because you never know how strong they will be and you usually have to rush to
shorten sail. Standing at the helm in the middle of a night so dark you can't
see anything but the masthead nav lights as a squall hits is both terrifying and
exhilarating. The boat heels over as the gusts hit. The rain stings your face
and you have no idea how long it will last or how powerful the next gust will
be. Once you have made it through a few of these the fear is gradually replaced
by an Adrenalin rush.
There were other more sublime moments that lacked the intensity of squalls but
explain why sailors put up with the many challenges. At some point in the
middle of the passage, after days with the complete absence of sea life or other
ships we were visited by a school of porpoises that put on a display I will
never forget. They did more than the usual playing in the bow wake. They
jumped completely out of the water and performed amazing acrobatics - twisting,
turning and showing us their pink spotted bellies. While the visitors crowded
around Kalyra, the rest of the pod was hurrying to catch up to the boat from a
few hundred yards behind us. As they raced to catch up they would power
completely out of the water like salmon trying to jump rapids as they head up
stream.
As the moon waned the stars took over the night sky. I can't imagine there are
better viewing conditions than out at sea hundreds of miles from any light
pollution. The milky way was bright enough to cast a shadow, but the real treat
was the never ending stream of shooting stars. Some quick short streaks
others bright with long trails. They became so numerous we stopped calling them
out.
After painfully slow progress towards St. Thomas we hit upon the idea of getting
a couple of Jerry cans of fuel from Boat US so that we might motor in and avoid
wallowing within sight of land for an extra day or two. Due to some confusion
on their part, Boat US showed up without extra fuel but offered to tow us in to
the nearest fuel dock. We reluctantly agreed and after about 2.5 hours we were
in a slip in Red Hook.
landfall
We were all relieved to be back on land but our patience was still being tested.
Because of the 2 category 5 hurricanes to hit these islands there was much
chaos. We arrived on Sunday, November 19th, seventeen days after we left
Norfolk. Both Lyle and I missed our original flights and could not get flights
off the Island until Friday the 24th. We found this stretch long. The heat
during the day was oppressive and options for comfort on shore were limited.
I reached a few conclusions about blue water sailing:
- It's impossible to make accurate time predictions.
- We're all used to lots of personal space which makes living on a small boat tough.
- It's better to have a good autopilot than an extra crew member.
- Heavy weather is not likely to be a problem.
- Light winds are likely to be a problem.
- Reefing needs to be easy and fast.
- Always consider starting the night with at least one reef in the main.
- Scopolamine patches work.
- Bring a printed sheet of sea shanties for each crew member.
- I prefer the cool Maine summer to the Island heat.
- An InReach (or other brand) satellite tracker is a must have.
I thank Nicole and Lyle for being the best crew I can imagine. Nicole's cooking and
provisioning were flawless and Lyle's positive, upbeat and entertaining presence
made the long, boring watches fly by. But most of all I want to thank Captain
Trip because he was the driving force that made this all happen. His dedication
to Kalyra and the passage gave me the experience of a lifetime and the
confidince to tackle future blue water passages (once the memories of
seasickness fade).
