Archive | February, 2015

We went to Cane Garden Bay to catch up with a friend and watch the Super Bowl.  When we pulled into the bay, we had our first omen.  Gail’s carefully researched sports bar was not in this Cane Garden Bay but 600 miles away in the Turks and Caicos.  No problem; a substitute would be easy to find.

Our second omen arrived via dinghy.  The captain of a 35 foot monohull asked me if I could free dive to 20 feet as his anchor was fouled. I said I would be over in 15 minutes with my SCUBA kit.   Gail was not excited but we both feel you have to help a cruiser in need.  She was concerned about me being trapped by the anchor chain as the boat shot free.

I dove down 7 meters, following the anchor chain to the bottom.  What I found was a shocking mess.  There was an old barge sunk years ago by the British Navy during target practice.  The remains were solid metal, including an exposed winch.   The anchor chain had hooked, spun, stuck and twisted in over a dozen ways.   When I first surveyed the problem, I thought the crew of “Marsha Claire” would have to call for a professional diver but, slowly, I made progress.   The chain had pinned an old boat hook to the wreck.  It took 5 minutes just to free this hazard.   I kept checking my tank gauge and  when it got close to 500 psi I surfaced.   Gail and I went back to Two Fish where I donned my gloves and boots to protect me from the anemones and got a second tank.   My second dive was more productive.   As I freed the last twist, the load of the monohull pulled herself free and I swam aside to avoid the now tightening chain.   The crew of the Marsha Claire were thankful.

After a delightful night aboard, we experienced our third omen, a swarm of small power boats from the USVI started to disgorge surfers. Like smoking and making fireworks, anchoring and surfing are two activities that should not be done in the same space.  We watched the surfers for a bit and then I ferried Gail ashore in One Fish.   She did a well timed leap to the dinghy dock, which was in the middle of the breaking surf.   I tossed the laundry bag to Gail and she managed to grab it before the pounding surf took it away for a sand wash.  I had been using a stern anchor to hold station during this fire drill.  I realized it would not be safe to leave One Fish in this position, so I left Gail ashore.  She was happy to be on terra firma with free wifi.

A couple of hours later, I came ashore via the paddle board (Blue Fish).  It was a fairly uneventful trip.   However, after lunch the waves had built and crossing the breaking surf was a challenge.  I was face planted into the beach and held on to my specks while in the tumble cycle.  Blue Fish was worse for the wear as she lost her fin.  Without a fin, the paddle board travelled in a “leaving a bar after closing time” route.  The serpentine path was not aided by the swell and breeze.  Gail stayed ashore for the rest of the day to avoid the amusement park ride aboard Two Fish.  Later, I was told that Cane Garden Bay can get so bad that mono hulls are fully on their sides.  Unsuspecting charterers hoping for a relaxing one week vacation are trapped aboard because it is too rough to dinghy ashore.  So they call the rental company and are taken off by a large motor boat and move to a hotel room.  Fortunenatly we were in somewhat calmer conditions.

When sunset neared I went back ashore to pick up Gail.  The dinghy dock had gotten much worse during the day and was now submerged in the breaking surf.   We found an alternate dock that created a wave break when approached from one end.

Lessons learned when operating the dinghy in big swell:

1) Do not approach in a hurry.   Spend the time to watch how your target performs in the big waves.

2) Lassoing dock cleats and stern anchors can calm your approach but also might just complicate the process.

3) Stay out of the surf.

4) Know how to use your reverse gear.

We got safely got back on board Two Fish.  Gail had little sleep as the amusement park ride continued into the morning.  That night would clearly have been more comfortable in our NYC apartment?  Did I tell you about how Hurricane Sandy stopped Gail from sleeping?  That is a story for another day but cruising is not always sundowners in paradise.

 

 

Our luck with the fishing gods came to a stop. We had several dramatic strikes, with large fish doing aerial fish ballet (not yet an Olympic sport). But in the world of fishing you can not eat a story. David analyzed each incident for why the fish got away. Too much boat speed, too little boat speed or wrong rod angle. This was not the cause but rather a voodoo hex. The previous day we had caught another Mahi Mahi. David tied a line to the fish and threw him back overboard to bleed out. This trick saves on clean up time. While tying the line he was distracted and tended to the Jib. Upon return, he realized the line had become untied and we lost our dinner. Neptune saw this as rejecting his gifts, and punished Two Fish. Lesson learned, be thankful and respectful of the bounty the sea offers.

Neptune did not extend our fishing punishment into the realm of sail. For the last 10 watches we were making great time. We achieved an over 200 mile day and Tim made a record 18 nautical miles on his 2 hour watch.

 

I used this strong breeze to go a little East of the direct route. The computer refers to this Easting a cross track error. I told everyone that I would like no more than 30nm of easting. The cross track error was nicknamed the “bank” as we could spend it if the trade winds appeared. It was good timing as heading 10 degrees higher moved the breeze forward of our beam, increasing our speed substantially.

 

Lunch was Gail’s chili with her homemade cornbread. Not great for keeping the cockpit clean, but darn tasty. At dinner our culinary luxury continued despite the increased windspeed. We dined with a table cloth and a proper meal. I went to bed telling Gail we would arrive the 20^th or maybe even the 19^th. Good thing she never changed her flight.

 

Day 6 – Jan 17

 

Holy cow, the main salon door will not open. David is locked inside and I am trying to get him out. With a bit of gentle jiggling, the door opens. I announce to all not to use the front door. I remembered that Ed on Calypso had a similar problem. Gail again reached out to the Antares owners for advice. Ed replied quickly with a very helpful note. Mr Fix it (David) asks for some tools and we are off to repair the door latch. First, we straightened the locking plate. We used tongue depressors to avoid scratching it. Gail stocked the boat with everything. David then used loctite to reseat the nut and ensure the faceplate would not get loose. In Grenada, I may try to make this solution more robust, but in the meantime I will avoid stressing the faceplate.

During the morning the breeze shifted to the north allowing the bank to grow to 22 nm of cross-track error to the east, our largest amount for the trip. The weather routers had suggested 400 miles of cross track error, we were shortening the trip and had not yet paid the ugly price. But that afternoon the waves and breeze built. I enjoyed my 2 to 4pm watch immensely. We were all in the cockpit and I was hand steering. The breeze and waves were in perfect synergy to inducing surfing. I would head up to increase the boat speed and catch the now 10 foot waves. Once at the crest I would bear off with expediency, then wait 2 seconds while the rudder and boat became weightless. Then a gentle hum from the bobstays indicated that we were surfing the wave. The speedo rises and rises. Then I looked over our port quarter for the next wave to surf. We got the boat up to 16.9 knots while surfing.

 

During this surfing fiesta Tim managed to make the most amazing fish Tacos. At one point, during the dinner preparation Tim sent Charles up with dishes while I was sending him back. We could see a nasty cloud and I was concerned about food spillage from a possible squall. We had our full canvas up because the lack of rain in this squall meant it did not appear on the radar. When the leading edge caught up to us, we had time to get 2 reefs in the Genoa. Then the breeze rose to 35. We put two reefs in the main. It was a great team effort. Tim steered, leaving many dishes in precarious locations down below. Charles and David helped me with the reefing. It was a bit of action, but never out of control. Tim found all of his dishes in the same place and remarked “I now understand why people buy catamarans”. Everyone enjoyed the fish tacos as the boat was set up with less canvas for the night watches.

I went off to bed with one eye open to make sure we were safe. I messaged Gail “Just came back from a visit to the deck. We had a bit too much sail up for the increasing breeze. I will be up a bunch tonight?”

 

Day 7 – Jan 18

 

We now had less than 200 miles to go. It feels like a month since we were fighting to round the Abacos. I decided to spend the money in the bank. The wind had dropped to 10 knots and the breeze shifted forward. If we spent the bank we could continue with Main and Genoa. We had enough fuel to open a gas station, so had no fear of the forecasted zero wind in 12 hours. Our plan was then to gas guzzle our way to the BVI with both engines.

We tossed up the chute for some vanity shots. Tim did a great job with the foredeck lines while David and Charles worked the cockpit. Both the hoist and douse went off without a hitch.

We were no longer were talking about stair steps or the bank but what we would do on Tuesday. Diving at the Indians was the choice. A few votes for long showers ashore and a few more for air conditioning.

The trip was a kind trip and the weather fair but I was still exhausted from my frequent but unnecessary checks to the helm. The crew were excellent and did not need my watchful eye, but I can not help myself. On my frequent visits to the helm I would spew out many numbers (AWA vs TWA, SOG vs STW, XTE, VMC) but the crew knew that meant keep pointing towards the BVI. A few days ago, David had us headed to Haiti but now the BVI was clearly in our sights.

“4 hours till my last night watch. I already miss the sea.” I wrote Gail on the 7^th night. Night watches mid-ocean are special. You are alone on the boat. The air temperature is perfect. The sky is alive. You are mastering your environment. You are having a true adventure in a world with seat belts and bike helmets. This is why I go to sea.

 

Two Fish Dresses Up

 

We woke up to our final day of flat seas. The weather gurus pretty much got every day wrong and our crazy bet saved us 400 miles and a crew mutiny. The seas were kind enough for a small dinghy and for a moment I considered driving One Fish ahead to visit Immigration. This crazy idea was abruptly binned.

We used our final day to clean up Two Fish. Charles and David washed the decks with fresh water to add to David’s earlier polishing of the stainless. I gathered the paperwork to ease our entry into the BVI. We had filled out the e-clear process but this was for naught as the system was down.

Tim took charge with the final bit of navigation into Soper’s Hole.

We arrived to find Soper’s very full. I could see Gail on the dock but could not hear that she was giving advice on an empty mooring ball. Instead we improvised grabbing a recently vacated ball like an empty spot in the mall parking lot. We picked up the ball in reverse (a Two Fish tradition) and the voyage was over.

They say you can see the mettle of a man while at sea for a week. The crew showed resolution when the ETA seemed bleak, they showed calm when the squall brought 35 knots winds and each man helped Two Fish arrive safely and in better condition than she had left Stuart in. I hope my spirit showed as bright as my crew’s during this voyage. Thank you crew and thank you Gail for provisioning the boat.

 

Final Stats:

1,287 miles sailed through the water

1,130 miles sailed over the ground

7.55 knots average speed

Rhumb line course 1,080 miles