Stuart to BVI Stage 2. Short Cut?

On our third day, I saw the color come back into Tim’s face as the waves had calmed down. I was much more relaxed. My spirits were buoyed by the dramatic change in our fortunes. “Making great time! Spirits up big” I wrote. We were motor sailing at almost 6 knots. Thoughts of stopping in San Salvador for fuel seemed reactionary. I was focused on how long we could run the risky short cut route. The ETA was now 7 days. Food kept the crew happy and the hallmark lentil dish was a big hit. Homemade cookies were also disappearing at an alarming rate.

 

The flatter seas offered a great chance to change out the leaking diesel hose on the port engine. Earlier I had only clipped off the end and reattached the hose. We measured up a new hose, cut it with the hose cutter and added a hose clamp. Problem fixed by David. The Port hull diesel smell was eliminated and the Captain’s quarters would get a break from motoring sounds.

 

This was also an opportune time to check our diesel stores. Charles did most of the work of siphoning 6 jerry cans into the tanks. I calculated consumption 2 ways: looking at the fuel gauge (not so accurate) and looking at engine hours (also not so accurate). Luck had it that both measures came out within a gallon of each other. Based on my overly complex spreadsheet, we could motor 80% of the way from here to the BVI assuming the waves and wind were not strong on the nose. With too strong a wind we could only travel half the distance. Fingers were crossed that the short cut would work out.

As I was mulling over the risk, I got another email from our weather routers. Both were suggesting that we go east. I justified my plan to myself through a few points: 1) We had more range with our fuel than the routers calculated, and they wanted us to travel east for the breeze, and, 2) if we got caught in the trades our boat gave us more options that a smaller monohull. In trading, the term for self-justification is talking your own book. Well, I talked my book up to the crew. Reminding them we could always stair-step if we saw the trades coming.

 

Day three also brought a new challenge as the lights in the master head stopped working. Trips to the head had to be done with a head lamp, no pun intended. Gail emailed our fellow Antares owners and they replied with solutions. I remarked to Gail that it was odd that both lights died at the same time. Come morning David and I tackled the problem. I was Robin to David’s Batman. It was an easy fix: a wire had fallen out of the back of the switch in the big seas. David also replaced the screws as they had were a bit rusty. I really appreciated not having to brush my teeth with my headlamp blinding me in the mirror. Gail’s excellent organization of the spares made the repair easy, and I hate to say it, “fun.” This would not be our last fix of the trip.

 

For six hours this day we had wind speeds of 1 to 3.7 knots. David took advantage of the light air and announced that it was time for fishing. The seas were flat, and we were motoring with one engine at 5.8 knots. I suppose I did not take these light windspeeds as a good omen. I satellite texted Gail “Please look at delaying your flight to 21 or 22^nd. Miss you. Siliconed a squeaky floor board in the port forward cabin to help crew sleep better.”

A decent sized Mahi Mahi came aboard as our master Fisherman (aka Batman of boat repair) caught our dinner. David removed the gill to end the fish’s life quickly. This is much more humane, and neater, than my Joe Pesci style of doling out death with a fish bat. Tim took over and cooked the fish on the bbq with an Indian spice mix and a side order of vegetable pasta salad. 4 star cuisine mid-ocean. After that dinner Tim was crowned king of the kitchen. Tim also frequently prepared cocktail hour snacks, a civilizing break. The boat had become a restaurant, as my messages to Gail focused on spices and filet knives, not wind speeds.

 

Our AIS informed us of the passing ships. During my night watch we had a close approach with Clipper Quito. I called her to say that we would be taking her stern and she politely offered to give us a wider pass by applying port rudder. A minute after the business conversation was over El Faro, a 700 foot ship placed a social call to Two Fish. The night watchman was very friendly. He lives in Puerto Rico and sails his pocket cruiser during his free time. We spoke for about 15 minutes but I cut the conversation short so as not to wake the rest of the sleeping Two Fish crew. What a pleasant way to spend a portion of my watch.

 

Day 4 – 15 jan

 

At 5 am, Tim woke me to inform me that the Genoa was not unfurling. Great move by Tim to not push it and break something. Tim did not ask the question, “should we wait until morning?”. I had a good sense of the problem before I reached the furling drum. While unfurling there had not been enough tension on the drum, thus creating a mess of the furling line. I scanned my mind for the culprit and realized it was myself. We travelled under engine in 10 knots of breeze while we worked to correct my mistake. We furled the genoa and then I eased the furling line to give me slack to fix the mess. It looked like we might not have use of the Genoa until the BVI. But with some patience and Tim’s help, and the sail dropped, we conquered the tangled line by fully unwinding the line. I wound the furling line back around the drum without the sail attached and “voilà” we were back in business. It took an hour, but I always enjoy conquering those types of problems because I become more comfortable at operating the boat.

 

We flew the Genoa, but not the Main, as the breeze was too aft and caused the the main to shake. The Genoa gently tugged the bow giving us a bit more speed and made us feel less like a motor boat. During Charles’ watch we had a close crossing situation the ship Mole Efficiency. David and Charles navigated Two Fish through the challenge.

 

The voyage had been hyped as the battle of fishing versus sailing. When I told our mutual friend Ross before the trip that I do not slow the boat down for fish strikes, he rolled his eyes. But after the huge black marlin and the tasty Mahi Mahi I was now a convert. I wanted fish on the boat and if slowing it temporarily increased the chance of good dinner, I was all for it.

However, I never thought I would take my fishing enthusiasms to the next level. We spotted a large sea of weeds. I asked David if he would be interested if we did a circle around the weeds in search of fish. I got a loud YES MAN, so we did rotations of the Sargosso Sea. After our third rotation, Charles caught our appetizer, a medium-sized Pompano. Tim made a simple ceviche with lime, onion and pepper. Best meal of the trip.

 

With the calm seas I inspected the rig and all looked good. I also checked the lockers, which were mostly bone dry. Impressive after transiting some decent size waves during the previous days.

We were far enough from other boats that I decided to test our man over board tracker. I activated the device and took a photo of the message on the Furuno screen. The device is used for finding a crew overboard. They activate the device and then appear on the navigational screen like a ship or AIS target. Very handy for overboards in big waves or night time. I will add this photo to our crew safety briefing.

 

We started to make real progress, with both the full main and genoa drawing nicely with the wind slightly off our port beam. The boat made a lively 6.8 knots for 3 watches in a row. This speed seemed impossible just 2 nights ago. After sunset, boat speed increased to over 8 knots. This is what passage making should always be.

 

Day 4 came to a close with me texting Gail to start looking at crew flights home. This was a sign that I was becoming confident with our arrival time. Flights targeted the 21^st of January. 6 days. Full speed ahead. But at the end of the text conversation, I asked her to hold off on booking until the next day. I suppose I was not fully confident yet.

 

We stayed on the direct route to the BVI. I was disagreeing with the routers and years of maritime history. But you have to be your own Captain? We’ll see what the next days bring.