Final Photos -Bermuda to Antigua

Pictures from the trip
http://turlco.com/schooner/2007/2007-11/GA2/index.htm

WE MADE IT!

We pulled into Falmouth Harbor, Antigua at approximately 9 a.m. on Thursday, 950 nm from Bermuda, and after 7 days of sailing. Jay dropped DT off at the Antigua Yacht Club to clear Customs. All of the entry instructions clearly indicate that the Master must go ashore to clear, and the crew must stay on board. DT went ashore only because her name is on the title to the boat. Alas, the Customs official sent her scurrying back to the boat to secure Jay's signature in three places. A very long process that cannot be easily accomplished if the folks who need to the sign the documents are required to stay on the boat.

The various marinas in Falmouth Harbor were preparing for the charter boat show. There were incredible mega yachts on the docks and at anchor from all over the world. Paid crew were scrubbing and polishing is an effort to book additional weeks. Their income is tied to the number of weeks the boat is chartered. We were definitely the poor cousins in WELCOME. Because of the boat show, docking options were limited. The only marina that could keep the boat for three weeks was Catamaran Marina, and they offered us a space off of the parking lot without any security. We docked there, but during our stay, we were approached by several people asking to watch our boat for us, and we determined that the amount of foot traffic near the boat did not bode well for a three week stay. Jay contacted Jolly Harbor Marina, on the northwest side of Antigua, and we headed to that port. Despite the fact that we did not finally get settled until nearly 4 p.m. that day, we were glad we made the change. The folks at Jolly Harbor are friendly, and they have set us up with Peter Glasgow, a fellow who will redo the bright work on the boat during the time that it sits in the marina without passengers. North Sails picked up all three sails for repairs. Jay and DT went to the local marine store, which is the best we have seen in the Caribbean. The local supermarket is also excellent. DT walked to the beach for a well deserved swim. We had to tie up bow against the dock, and the stern tied to a post. There are no other boats next to us, and we think that it is a fine spot.

Friday was filled with many many chores, including cleaning the boat, greasing the ram drive for the autopilot, stowing the fuel containers, replacing the staysail furling line, replacing the lines for the lazy jacks, packing, laundry, etc. Jay left for Seattle via San Juan and Orlando on Friday afternoon. DT leaves for Boston on Saturday. Jay and Liza return on the 18^th for two weeks, and will sail the boat to Rodney Bay in St. Lucia. Donna and Kate will arrive on the boat at the end of January for a tour of the islands in that area. It is likely that the boat will be in Grenada in storage for the summer, and at sea in the Caribbean again next winter. If it gets a lot of use, then this area may offer an indefinite home. If the boat is not used, then, very sadly, it will be sold.

This has been an excellent adventure. We really appreciate the support of those who have read the blog. Knowing of your interest is half the fun. Thank you!

Fair Winds and Following Seas

The winds are 15-20 from the east, and the seas are now set from the northeast. We have shaken out the reef on the main, and are on a reach using the full main and the staysail. Alas, we have no big jib to use. Our pace has slowed to somewhere between 5 and 6 knots, but it still looks like we will land in Antigua within 24 hours. We are 128 miles from Falmouth Harbor, which we believe will offer us the best access to chandleries, provisioning, and historic charm. Our current position is 18 58.5 N 062 08.3 W. The sun is out and this is a perfect sailing day. Our spirits are good as we ready the boat for a few weeks at the dock. This mostly involves sitting in the cockpit and thinking about how to best utilize our time on shore before we head back to our homes.

We hit a few small rain squalls yesterday afternoon. We saw one cargo ship last night before the AIS picked it up. Jay called Trevor in Seattle to trouble shoot, since our expectation is that AIS should alert us to ships that are 30 miles away. It was disconcerting to have it in view before it was picked up by the electronics. Regardless, it posed no danger. Prior to the rising of the moon, the night sky glowed with stars. It is remarkable how many stars one can see without any ambient light. This morning, we saw that our vessel had become the graveyard for two flying fish. Services are at noon.

Team Welcome.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

We have made excellent mileage since leaving Bermuda last Thursday. We have only 235 nautical miles left before we arrive in Falmouth Harbour, Antigua. We expect to arrive Thursday morning. Our average speed has risen to 5.7 nm, but the last few days in the trade winds have been faster than that. Right now winds are ESE 21-27 knots – a lot lighter than the gale force winds of yesterday. The barometer reads 1018. Our position is 22 05.78N 062 28.59 W. Water temperature is 81.6. We spent much of yesterday below in the cabin trying to stay dry. Today the seas are still sloppy, but not so much as to regularly soak the cockpit. There is little to do in terms of projects – it is just too rough. We can sit in the cockpit, though, and that feels wonderful. Not much to report: one flying fish carcass on deck, no ships or other vessels sighted within the last 24 hours. One cargo ship came up on the AIS, but it was 12 miles away so we could not see it.

One of the delightful things about warm weather cruising is that our only "gear" outside of shorts and shirts are the lifejacket, harness and tether. No long johns or foul weather suits. We have not worn shoes since Bermuda – quite a luxury for us. Of course, hats and sunglasses are necessary, as is sun block.

Many vessels contacted Herb on the SSB yesterday. One boat was in Trinidad. Another in the Canary Islands. Another in the western Caribbean, closer to the Panama Canal. Our attempts to join the conversation have failed, but it may be due to operator error. We need to get out the instruction booklet. It was quite enjoyable to listen to others describe their positions and to be able to identify their location on the chart. It seems amazing that we can listen to someone thousands of miles away. Thank you Mr. Marconi. One boat who called in was about 40 miles from us, so we did hear the forecast that the trade winds would lighten over night – the prediction was right.

We did not eat much yesterday because of the rough seas. Today, we will continue to try to eat the remainder of the perishables – mostly yogurt and cheese. Maybe we will have a hot meal tonight. We have pasta left and some Trader Joe's Indian food. It is hard to cook as the seas toss the boat, even with the gimbeled stove. It makes crackers quite appealing. It all depends on the weather.

Team Welcome.

Greetings from Nares Abyssal Plain

Noontime. Monday, November 26, 2007. Winds are howling at 30 knots from the East / Northeast, with higher gusts. The swells are large and the seas choppy. Sitting in the cockpit involves frequent douses of sea water. Luckily, the water temperature is a most pleasant 80.1 F. Our main has a single reef in it. The staysail is flying. We blew out the genoa this morning while trying to furl it, so it is out of commission. We are on a beam reach. Position is 23 32.597 N 062 53.865 W. Our moving average speed since leaving Bermuda has increased from 5.2 knots to 5.6 knots. We have seen speeds mostly in the high 6's and low 7's today, with an occasional surprise in the 8's. 390 nm to Antigua. At this rate, Jay will make his flight out on Friday.

Last night we saw another sailboat pass from the east in front of us. We were approximately ½ mile away. It was our third boat sighting on this leg. We have not resolved our battery issues, and were forced to do an early morning recharge after running the autopilot and refrigerator overnight. We have plenty of fuel left, even if we had to motor the rest of the way.

The last few days we have been trying to consume the perishables – refrigerated items and fruit. There will be plenty of non perishables on board for Jay and Liza's Christmas At Sea. We had ravioli last night with a tomato sauce. The midnight and 3 a.m. watches often start with hot tea. For breakfast, we had granola, and used the last of our skim milk. We have long life milk in reserve. Still have plenty of carbs and chocolate on board. We are still operating off of our first 40 gallon tank of onboard water, which may not reflect favorably on hygiene. We drink bottled water.

The boat feels safe and is generally working well. It is harder to read in these conditions, or to really do anything except hold on and rock with the waves. We spend time debating the day and time of our arrival in Antigua and writing the to do list. We have added a visit to the sailmaker to that list. We will put Michael's bottles of wine in the refrigerator prior to our arrival so that we can celebrate when we get there.

Team Welcome.

Smooth Sailing

Greetings from 26 06.331 N 063 30.240 W. We are approximately 400 nautical miles from any land. The sea floor is 18,238 feet below us. Temperature is in the mid 70's and the water temperature is 77.6F. The wind is from the east at less than 10 knots. It is sunny out. Last night the moon was full and the moonlight was bright enough for reading. Everything on deck had a shadow.

In addition to propelling the boat forward, we have been busy with the small tasks of sailing in pleasant weather. Whipping lines, preparing meals (pizza last night and scrambled eggs this morning), cleaning, calculating distances and times, polishing metal, trying to understand the multitude of systems on board. When not napping or fixing things, we read old magazines or listen to our Ipods. Jay filled his Ipod with books on tape – his criterion was any book over 20 hours long. Right now he is listening to the Count of Monte Cristo (48 hours). DT's Ipod has saved NPR segments and missed "This American Life" programs.

We are now getting our weather from Herb on the SSB. At 3:40 each day, boats north and south of Bermuda, and some off the coast of Africa, check in giving the vessel name. Shortly before 4:00 pm, Herb comes on and acknowledges all boats who have checked in and then speaks with each captain in sequence of where the boat is located, advising the captain of the weather to be expected over the next 24 hours given location and speed. It is quite phenomenal. We have checked in twice. Both times we have been ignored in the roll call. We do not know if our transmission is faulty or we have in some way not abided by the rules of Herb. Interacting with him has all of the mystery and ceremony of appointing a new pope. We are clearly not cardinals. There are blessed boats within 200 miles so we can extrapolate. It appears that we will miss the front that is sweeping north of us and sail right into the NE trade winds tomorrow.

We have been carefully measuring and experimenting with our fuel consumption. If we run our engine at 2000 RPMs, it appears that we can limit our diesel fuel use to less than one-half gallon per hour. This is very exciting because even if we run out of wind, we have enough fuel to get us to Antigua. While we are motoring now, most of yesterday was spent under sail – all three sails powering us. Winds were 10-15 from the SW. It was quiet and wonderful. Starting tomorrow, if the weather prediction is right, we can turn off the motor for the rest of the trip. The peace of sailing offshore in these conditions has no parallel. It is pure joy.

Team Welcome.

 

    

MILK RUN

On Wednesday night we checked out at Customs and Immigration, promising to be gone before the office opened in the morning, which is "usually between 7:30 and 8AM when the first official shows up." We left Bermuda Thanksgiving morning at 8:00 and returned by 9:00. The enthusiasm about being on deck and setting sail was marked by losing the main halyard. It swung wildly before settling for a half dozen turns around the backstay just out of the reach of Jay and the 10' boat hook. Once we returned to St. George's Harbour and set anchor, Donna scrambled to the end of the boom and grabbed it. Actual departure and checkout with Bermuda Harbor Radio was more like 9:30.

Our weather gurus suggested a Thursday afternoon departure to allow the seas to calm a little. However, Welcome handled the 9 -15' seas easily and took advantage of the 20-25 knot NW wind. By the time our evening watches arrived, it had waned to 10 knots, and by midnight, we were motoring. As this is being written, the wind remains elusive. The swells give us big lifts from which to see the horizon, but the smaller waves on the swells have calmed. Here is the weather prediction issued on Wednesday from Dane Clark:

WEATHER OUTLOOK:

LOOKS LIKE A GOOD WEATHER WINDOW FOR YOUR TRIP TO

ANTIGUA.   FOR TOMORROW, NORTHWEST WINDS WILL STILL BE BRISK EARLY BUT SHOULD DECREASE IN THE LATE AFTERNOON AND EVENING BECOMING LIGHT WESTERLY FRIDAY AND ON INTO THE WEEKEND.  AS YOU PASS THROUGH THE BERMUDA RIDGE POSITION, EXPECT WINDS TO BE LIGHT LATE IN THE WEEKEND AND THEN START EASTERLY FOR A DAY OR SO BEFORE SETTING UP INTO NORMAL MODERATE NORTHEAST TRADES.  THESE MODERATE NORTHEAST TROPICAL TRADE WINDS ARE EXPECTED FOR THE REMAINDER OF YOUR TRIP TO THE ISLANDS.

 

FORECASTS FOR YOUR EXPECTED POSTIONS:

11/22 – WINDS NORTHWEST 15-22 KTS.  SEAS 6-9 FEET.  WINDS AND SEAS DECREASING LATE

11/23 – WINDS WESTERLY 10-16 KTS.  SEAS 3-5 FEET

11/24 – WINDS WESTERLY LESS THAN 15 KTS.  SEAS 2-4 FEET.

11/25 – WINDS VARIABLE LESS THAN 10 KTS.  SEAS 1-3 FEET

11/26 – WINDS BECOMING EASTERLY 10-16 KTS.  SEAS 2-3 FEET

11/27 – WINDS EAST NORTHEAST 16-23 KTS.  SEAS 4-6 FEET. 

11/28 – WINDS NORTHEASTERLY 17-24 KTS.  SEAS 5-7 FEET.

11/29 – WINDS NORTHEASTERLY 18-25 KTS.  SEAS 6-8 FEET.  

 

After years of hearing about "SouthBound II Herb" a weather expert that offers free and legendarily accurate advice in the Caribbean from Ontario via the SSB, we finally heard him loud and clear. We were elated that the recently installed SSB radio and reinstalled SSB 23 foot antenna worked so well. Today at 3:45 we will attempt to do our first check in with Herb. More to follow on this topic.

We are now at 30 19.497 N 064 12.930 W waiting for those westerly winds. We have gone 126 miles since leaving, and have another 802 to go before arriving in Jolly Harbor, Antigua. The temperature is mid 70's, it is a sunny day, and the barometer is steady at 1019. Our bearing is 186 degrees magnetic. Water temperature is 76.1 F. We feel some sense of urgency about getting to our destination since we both have plane reservations. We have to average 115 miles per day in order to catch our flights.

This is the milk run of the voyage. Things on board feel easy. We can read underway and appetites have returned. We had enchiladas for dinner last night with basmati rice, and Kate / Liza's granola for breakfast. We settled on two 3 hours watches each at night time, with a more informal watch arrangement during the day. It seems like it will work, although many naps will be in order. Michael picked the wrong time to leave – he would have enjoyed this leg.

Projects on the boat are easier. The halyard was the first event of the leg. Less than an hour after we turned off the engine, we noticed that our battery voltage was 11.v. While we still had some contact with cell towers off of Bermuda, Jay consulted numerous times with Randy. With step-by-step diagnosis and suggestions for remedies, Randy helped solve the problem and shed a bright light were there had previously been only a dim bulb. We carry five large batteries on board, three of which put out 115 amps each, and two brand new ones which put out 105 amps each. We recently replaced the isolator, and our rudimentary analysis indicates that both the alternator and the AC charger are working. In port we wired a 12v plug at the nav-station to run the laptop. With less need for AC power, we decided to forgo use of the inverter since that seems to consume a lot of power. With our autopilot engaged and the minimum electronics running, we consume approximately 10 amps per hour. On the first leg, we also ran an inverter, more lights, more frequent refrigeration and were more casual about running additional and, sometimes duplicative, electronics. However, we were forced to recharge the batteries a lot on the voyage down, which contributed to our fuel woes. Randy suggested that maximum electronic consumption might cost more than a quarter gallon of fuel per engine hour due to the drag of the alternator on the engine.

Of the five batteries, two are stored together under the aft port berth and labeled "Bank 1." Two more are stored forward under the starboard mid-ship berth and labeled "Bank 2." The fifth is the battery linked to starting the engine. We have two battery switches – one switch is tied to the windlass and is always on. It was installed by Randy. The second switch has four possible selections: Off, 1, ALL, and 2. After a series of trials and four years, we have finally discovered that "1" turns on the starting battery, and while you can run all power off of it, you should not. It should be left alone and only used to start the engine. "All" brings in all five batteries to be used to start the engine and/or run the other electrical needs on the boat. "2" puts only the four batteries in Banks 1 and 2 into operation. This selection can also be used to start the engine if the engine battery has gone dead. We had been using "1" thinking it was Bank 1 and the starting battery was not involved. This turns out to be incorrect, and we will now run on Bank 2. Assuming that we can fully recharge the batteries, we think we may have solved our problem. It was a "duh" moment. Thank you for your help, Randy.

In Bermuda while trying to diagnose some of our battery problems we discovered that of the six cells on each battery, one of the six on a new battery was dry. DT bemoaned the fact that she was not in a position to return it to West Marine. Batteries run $165 and weigh around 70 pounds each. We refilled the cell. It ran dry again. We pulled the battery from the bank and saw that sometime during installation, the bottom corner was compromised –probably from maneuvering it into place. Using some sort of magical underwater epoxy known as Eurobond, we mixed the putty and sealed the hole from which small wet tears of battery acid were leaking. Within 30 minutes it was as hard as the original plastic. We refilled the cell. This morning, it remains full. Victory at sea.

The AIS system on the PC has been set up to emit an slightly alarm if a boat carrying the AIS transmission system reaches within 10 miles or 30 minutes of us. It went off for the first time today. This was very exciting, since at the time of the alarm we could not see the boat or pick it up on the radar screen. It was a 525 foot cargo ship bound for Casablanca. When it was within about 7 miles we could finally see it with our eyes.

Life is good. Team Welcome.

Abandoning Ship at Captain Smokes

Repairs underway






Self-steering



More repairs












We will miss you, Michael

Customs dock in Bermuda

Fall City Pharmacy

Nutrition

Unexpected inflation

Cold weather for DT



Our lucky charm



Michael - too late to back out



DT at the helm

Bermuda

We drifted into St. George's Harbour, Bermuda, at 5 a.m. on Monday, November 19, 2007. The last thirty miles had taken 20 hours. We talked to Bermuda Harbour Radio earlier in the day and arranged to have a commercial tow on stand by in the event that the wind kicked up and we ran out of our last precious liters of fuel. When we made the last required radio check for permission to enter around 4 a.m., we were told that we would have to drift offshore for the remainder of the night until the tow operation opened in the morning. We decided to take our chances on the engine, knowing that in the light winds, if we lost power, we could simply turn around and sail off to wait for the tow. Five miles outside of the harbor, we ran the engine. It purred and never sputtered. We kept it at a very low RPM for the final few miles. We dropped anchor in the pitch dark quarantine area known as Powder Hole. Sleep never felt so good.

Around 9 a.m., we cautiously motored over to the Customs Dock. Our friend Bernie, from Cap't Smoke's Marina, met us and directed us to a berth. The customs officer immediately directed us to another. Local politics played out while we used the final fumes of our fuel. While checking in, a crew came in behind us. One of the members had forgotten his passport. His jokes about his Costco card being proof of his citizenship only irritated the Customs official. He was ordered to stay on his boat until his passport could be sent to him. Given that you now need a passport to return to the US, it was a display of American arrogance that made us cringe. As we looked over to the nearby fuel dock, we saw a huge backhoe digging. The Shell station was gone. There is no longer a fuel dock in St. George's Harbour!

Jay eyed the several full fuel jugs on the deck of the Swan 47 tied behind us. He asked for the captain, and requested that he allow us to purchase 5 gallons. Happily he quickly agreed, but stated that the $50 offered was probably much more than the fuel was worth. Later we learned that it was close to market price on the island. We left the dock relieved to have temporarily solved our diesel problem.

Bow first into Captain Smokes. Many dock lines to keep us in place. A long gangplank sitting on our bowsprit separates us from land. Towels and mats litter the sea floor below. The day became a whirlwind of tasks – all of us operating on 3 hours of sleep. Repair the bilge pump. Re install the SSB antenna. Clean the sea water intake filter for the engine. Showers! Check weather. Track down Globalstar technical services and find out the source of our satellite frustrations. Diagnose the wiring for the broken stern light. Top off the batteries. Get laundry done. Repair a port hole that refused to close tightly. Check engine fluids. Bring the fuel containers back and forth to the gas station to fill the tank and the jerry jugs. Purchase four additional 5 gallon fuel containers. Fill the water tanks. Bring a 12v plug to the navigation station. Provision. Clean the refrigerator. Find an insurance company that will insure the boat once it reaches our destination.

Michael left Welcome yesterday – with a mixture of relief and regret. He treated us to a lovely dinner the night before at the finest restaurant in this tiny village. We already miss his good humor, warmth and help. Last night, we ate dinner with a couple from the UK via New York who lost their mast in the same storm that hit us. In huge seas they were forced to cut their stays, running rigging, and sails to get their broken mast and attached boom away from the boat so as to prevent it from puncturing the hull. They were taking a year off to sail, and were in surprisingly good humor. We asked about safety gear. Luckily, a week before the trip, they bought the same rigging cutters that sit in our locker. They had decided to forgo the expense of a life raft, thinking that it was unnecessary. They were obviously right – this time. They are sitting at the dock – the boat naked without its mast, boom and sails. The current project is trying to track down a new mast and figure out how to refit the boat to continue their journey.

Checking into the weather charts and the wisdom of fellow sailors, we saw a huge front coming with seas predicted to be above 30 feet. We decided to sit tight until its passage, although we definitely need to make up mileage on our next leg. Jay has a plane ticket out on November 30, and Donna leaves December 1, both from Antigua. Cast off is tomorrow morning – Thanksgiving Day in the US. We have 930 miles to go. We are catching up on sleep and food and showers.

Rested, relieved and happy, Team Welcome

Paddling to Bermuda

Paddling to Bermuda would be faster than this sailing trip. We are now at 32 52.852 N 64 41.309 W. About 30 miles from St Georges Harbor in Bermuda. It is around 12:30 in the afternoon, Atlantic Standard Time. The barometer has climbed steadily to 1024 from the low a few days ago. Water temp 74.8 F. Our heading 190 degrees. Unfortunately, our speed is 1.95 knots. Wind speed varies from 2 to 8 knots, wandering unsteadily NW to NE. We remain eager to get to Bermuda. The only reason we haven't turned the engine on is that it died yesterday as we were charging the batteries. The engine went dead. A little cough. Gone. On Michael's watch. We spent most of the day addressing various engine issues. Jay essentially rebuilt the fuel pump, replaced the fuel filter, bled the air from the engine, and cleaned the fuel water separator. There is no easy way on this boat to tell how much fuel is in the tank without taking up the table and floor boards. When we last filled the 37 gallon tank, we kept 2 gallons in reserve. Generally, the fuel consumption is 8/10ths of a gallon an hour. It seemed impossible that after 31 engine hours we would be on empty. But, we were. Jay and Michael carefully poured the last two gallons into the tank as waves sloshed on the deck. We ran the engine for ten minutes before killing it. We need to keep the fuel in reserve to make the entrance through Town Cut in Bermuda. Consequently, we have stopped using the batteries except for the most essential tasks, like the compass light. Bank 2 is being kept in reserve. Volts on battery bank 1 have fallen to 9.7. Refrigeration is gone and our cold food smells a little sour. We cannot use the auto pilot. We ran the Monitor Windvane for half the day, but the light winds on our stern made it unreliable. We now hand steer. It is very tiring and boring. We cannot recharge dead ipods to keep us awake. Michael had the last watch of the night and woke us to his cursing as the main sail jibed for the 100^th time under his "guidance."

We also lost the SSB antenna yesterday. Jay had to stand on the railing to get it wrapped and under control before it damaged the sail. It was explained to me hat cruising means fixing the boat in different ports around the world. Appetites are increasing. Michael made us a good dinner last night of pasta and butter – the first warm meal that we have eaten together since the first night.

Today is the first day we are fully out of foul weather gear. Some are even wearing shorts. The air temperature is comfortable. We tried flying the asymmetrical genoa, but had little luck with it due to the fluky winds. The hours have become a blur. We are hot bunking, meaning that there are only two beds available, and you sleep on whatever bunk is available. Initially, we used our assigned pillows and sleeping bags. Now, after a watch, we just use whatever pillow and sleeping bag is open on the free bunk.

It looks like our landing will be late tonight. We will not be allowed on shore until after we clear Customs in the morning. We cannot read or respond to e-mails until after we get to an internet cafe. Anyone who is expecting a call, please know that it will not be until Monday. The good sailing vessel Welcome floats like a cork, and that our safety is not in any way diminished by the engine and battery problems. This is a sailing boat, and it does well. We work on convincing Michael that the second leg of this trip will be more fun. We hope that Ann will meet us at Capt. Smokes, as promised. We have a lot of repairs to do before taking off for Antigua on Tuesday. Despite the many challenges, all is well.

Team Welcome.

The Squirrel and the Hummer

Friday, November 16, 2007. Team Welcome reporting from 35 55.844N 65 22.031W. 3:00 pm. The winds are NW around 30 knots. This is the lowest we have seen in 24 hours. Last night, the winds were sustained at 55 knots from the SW. Hard to tell how high the seas were last night. The only analogy I could think of is asking a squirrel to estimate the height of the Hummer about to hit it. At some point, it just doesn't matter. We eased off of the rhumb line to lessen the slamming into the waves. We made all of about 6 miles towards are destination overnight. Between the driving rain and the crashing seas, it was impossible to stay dry inside the cabin or in the cockpit. A screaming front finally came through mid day. The barometer dropped to 981. The wind abruptly turned west and then northwest, allowing us to continue in the general direction of Bermuda. If you are not on watch, you are prone in the cabin. Food consumption today so far: Jay has had a yogurt. Michael has had a single biscotti. I pigged out and had three biscotti and an apple. Jay asked how it is possible that people who go on cruises gain weight.

Michael has been quite seasick and my guess is that he will never set foot on a boat again, not even a ferry to P-town. He joined the wrong leg of this voyage, the next should be considerably better. The only positive thing we can say about this storm is that at least we were out of the Gulf Stream. While the waves were big, they were spaced so as to not threaten to roll us. The weather service and charts did forecast the front, but not the strength. The forecast for the remainder of the journey to Bermuda is for lighter winds. Why am I doing this again?

We very much look forward to Bermuda. We expect to arrive on Sunday. We have been blown way off course because of the SW winds, so our arrival is a day late. Michael flies home on Tuesday, and we will cast off for Antigua. Jay's client gave him a glass eye to ward off evil spirits and bad things. It is hanging from the overhead hatch. We will ask it kindly for a gentle journey forward.

DT for Team Welcome.

Beyond the Gulf Stream

We exited the south wall of the Gulf Stream this morning. Seas have continued to be rough, and choppy, and the waves are 7 – 10'. Last night, our SE wind went to SW, which is perfect for a crossing, although gusts into the low 40s resulted in a very sloppy ride. We are way off of our agreed waypoints, being unable to fight the current in the direction we wanted, and being unwilling to tack. Unbelievably, the Gulf Stream gave us a push of 4 knots at some points, making our speed over ground an astonishing 9.3 nm while our water speed was in the 5s and 6s. That current pushed us off course, and we are waiting for the predicted wind shift to the NW to get back on course. The other significant feature of the Gulf Stream is the water temperature. You can tell you are in the Stream when the temperature rises. We saw 77.2 degrees last night, but it is now back to 73 degrees. The seaweed of the Sargasso Sea floats around us.

At noon on 11/15/2007 our position is 36 53.811 N, 66 31.200 W. Our bearing to Bermuda is 178 degrees, but our course is approximately 160 degrees due to the wind. Winds remain in the upper 20s and the seas unsettled. Walking in the cabin requires careful thinking and three appendages always touching a solid surface. We are 290 miles from the customs dock in Bermuda.

We have had less equipment failure this time. Something is jamming the intake of the bilge pump, and it can't be diagnosed until we are settled somewhere. The current to the stern light has failed, and the wire needs to be traced. Another dock side job. Smaller issues have been handled in route – the steering wheel fell off on Michael's watch, but a wrench and a little locktite fixed that. As we were on deck yesterday, his life jacket cartridge opened and his jacket blew up around him. It was pretty funny to see him with big cheeks. The inevitable line wrapped around the radar reflector was untangled. Our use of the inverter and the autopilot seems to drain the new batteries faster than expected. That is on the "think about" list.

Food consumption remains minimal. Crackers, nuts, yogurt, hard boiled eggs, occasional fruit and homemade biscotti as snacks have become the meals. Except for the first night out when we enjoyed a hearty soup by Kate, there have been no hot or joint meals. Queasy stomachs prevent much eating. Jay has memorized the nutritional information of each product and tallies up his caloric intake – to what end I am uncertain.

I remain extremely frustrated by our internet connection, and have spent hours each day trying to get messages – in or out. My priority remains getting the weather charts, sending the blog, and then e-mail. Globalstar is supposed to have good coverage in this area, but our experience is that 90% of the satellites must be broken. There are two other providers, but none as cheap. Given an annual fee of $800, my expectations are apparently too high. I will catch up with folks in Bermuda when we have access to internet cafes.

DT and Team Welcome.

Sailing for a Cure to Seasickness

It is 10:40 a.m. on Wednesday, November 14, 2007. We are 9 miles from our first waypoint in a warm eddy. We hope to use the clockwise current to pick up some speed. Right now, there is a ½ knot current against us. Winds are light from the SE. Our bearing is 161 M. Barometric pressure is rising at 1017. The sea temperature has risen to 61 F. Latitude is 39 01.865 N. Longitude is 067 53.057W. Our boat speed is 5.5 knots with the engine running at 2500 rpms. We just used our spare jerry jugs to refill the 37 gallon fuel tank. We topped off with 28 gallons of diesel making our consumption 8/10ths of a gallon per hour. We have enough fuel on board for approximately 50 hours of steaming. We have been sailing on and off, but the winds have been variable and often light. Until this morning, the seas have been rough. We did not post a blog yesterday because of the rough seas. Michael and Jay were seriously sick, and I woke with a day long piercing headache which prevented me from looking at a screen. All of us spent as much of the day as possible sleeping. It was raining and damp and cold. Sea sickness is an immobilizing illness. Jay, who is usually so eager to tidy things on deck and in the cabin, did not even have the energy to haul in a flapping jib sheet right next to him. Sail changes seem like daunting marathons. Michael managed to eat a single cracker – that was his consumption for the whole day – excluding some beverages and sea sickness drugs. Jay and I had just a little more than that. It was hard being in the cabin without being prone. At one point I had to pull my sleeping bag tightly over my head to try to block out the noise of someone violently retching. Any focus on the noise, and I would have been gone too. Today, everyone is feeling much, much better.

Our first night out, the temperature was in the 30s. We took three hour watches, and by the end of each watch, the person coming off watch would dive into a sleeping bag with foulies on just trying to warm up. Last night it was probably in the high 40s to low 50s. A little more tolerable. Today, we are very grateful for the sun and clear skies. We have all shed our foul weather jackets, but remain in long johns and fleece and boots. Gloves and hats are off for the first time. Once we reach our waypoint, we will head a little more to the SW. Winds are predicted to increase this afternoon as we enter the stream.

When we passed by George's Bank, fishing vessels were around us. Last night as we crossed the continental shelf, we saw only one fishing boat and a large cargo ship. Both were approximately 2 miles away. It is unlikely that we will see more than one or two more boats before we hit Bermuda. Jay installed an AIS receiver which pulls signals from the VHF antenna and translates ship information onto our PC. Every vessel larger than 60 or 65 feet is required to have an AIS transmitter which tells nearby vessels its registration number, and if the captain has entered it, vessel name, length, width, draft, type and destination. Even if the information has not been entered, the PC will calculate whether you are on a collision course, the heading and speed of the nearby vessel, and the time and place of the closest point of course intersection. It is an amazing tool, and gives much more information than the radar. We have had it on constantly, and it gives us some more ease at night understanding whether we are on a collision course with nearby boats.

The fact that the AIS is working has been balanced by the failing satellite system used to get e-mails and internet access. We can occasionally get a signal, but it tends to be fleeting. Please do not worry if we do not respond to e-mails. The onboard dial up satellite modem is a challenge that requires patience – which is occasionally unavailable. We will do a better job with the blog – I hope.

Cheers from Team Welcome.

Cast Off – Monday, 11/12/2007 @0738

We are off of Race Point on the back side of Cape Cod. Our current position 42.06.60 N 70.01.601 W with a course of 162 degrees. Water temperature is 42.6 F. Barometer is steady at 1022.0. Counting the 220 miles from our first waypoint in the Gulf Stream. About a day and a half before we grab the clockwise current of a warm eddy and then into the northeast surge of that defining Atlantic current. Instead of bear markets, health care emergencies and court calendars, our focus is the rhythm of the waves, the power of the wind, and the magnetic fields of the earth. It feels elemental and wonderful and enormously frightening to have arrived at this moment.

Yesterday was a rush of groceries and last minute repairs. We dodged other shoppers at Trader Joe's and left with two full carts. At Star, we managed to limit our catch to one large cart, which included 20 gallon containers of spring water, 18 bottles of Gatorade, two large boxes of Cheese-zits, hot chocolate and other essentials. At Whole Foods, we filled two hand baskets of the finer items, including coffee, fruit, tea, refried beans, pita chips, potatoes, carrots, pepper, and onion. Jay stowed the food while Michael installed repaired screens, installed a new dome light over the galley, and built a mahogany battery box hold down for Bank 1. I installed the new isolator for the two battery banks. We made it back to Cambridge for a wonderful dinner by Kate. Kate also made us biscotti, and soup for the trip, as well as a huge batch of granola to replace the bag Liza made which was devoured by our youngest dog. Leaving suitcases open in our house is always a mistake.

Michael called George this morning as Kate made us scones. Anyone lucky enough to get one of her scones would wonder why we would leave the warmth and sweet smell of the house. But, we were too far into this to back out. We threatened to hide Michael's keys, worrying that as the most recent member of the crew, he might slip away. Happily (for Jay and DT) he is here. We spotted two spouts from nearby whales off of Province town. The daylight is slowly fading. We have not agreed on our watch schedule, only that we will run three hour shifts. We are suited up in our foul weather gear for warmth. We expect to use it for rain tomorrow. So far, we have motored. The wind has been too light to sail. We have 30 extra gallons of fuel on board this trip for a total of 67. It should give us 100 hours of motoring. But this is a sailing trip, and we look forward to the silence when we can shut the iron sail off.

Best to all from Team Welcome.

Another Adventure

Forgetting how miserable these sailing trips can be, I decided over the summer to sail the boat south. This time, the destination is Antigua, with a later transit to St. Lucia. Hurricane season prevents a departure during warmer weather, so we now sit waiting for a weather window to Bermuda. Michael and Ann had other pressing matters. Just my brother Jay and I are going to make this trip. We both feel nauseous. We intended to leave today, November 10, 2007, but our weather routing service, Dane and Jenifer Clark, predicted 50-60 knot winds over the Gulf Stream, with higher gusts, and all northerly. Having been tossed there before, we humbly decided to wait for permission to go. They predicted we would have to wait until Tuesday or Wednesday. We went by car to Truro for the weekend, needing a break from the work on the damp boat and being assured of a few extra days of warmth before cast off.

Mid day, I called Dane, and he declared that Monday is our departure window. Things have suddenly sped up. We need to provision the food and beverages, and I need to pack. Jay has been in his civvies since he arrived on Tuesday. He is already packed. Michael called and e-mailed several times. He sounded miserable. At 2 p.m. he lost his senses and declared he was coming with us for the first leg! Flights from Bermuda are available, and work seemed less pressing than the adventure. Hooray! There could not be better news. Not only is he a perfect companion on any voyage, but three people on board makes the voyage a lot safer. I couldn't get insurance for a two person voyage – that is a measure of the danger. With Michael on board, we will be able to sleep more than 3 hours at a time, and if there is an overboard situation, we are more likely to retrieve someone with two hauling him in. Our nausea has lifted. I am sure it will be back as the time to leave nears. I will check in again after we leave on Monday. Donna T

Dolphin

This is one of the many dolphins who raced us and played in our wake. This one is an Atlantic White-Sided Dolphin.

Navigation Aide

On our last day, this young wren accepted a free ride.

It was a cold and foggy day.

Fog was not our favorite weather condition.

McGrenra in Charge

Swarthy sailor with glamorous legs.

Muffins

Proof that I really did make muffins!

View at Night

During the second leg, we did not have a moon. The view from the cockpit while on watch was quite limited. We mostly tended to the sails, and kept an eye out for the lights of other boats.

Capt'n Turley

Storm Jib

This is the storm jib, really just a sliver of a sail. The orange has radar reflecting properties.

Post Bermuda

At the beginning of the second leg out of Bermuda, we had sun and cooler temperatures.

Sunset

I know, I know, landscape photos are boring, but this is an example of the boring landscape we encountered when not in fog.

We are home!

We entered Boston Harbor in the early afternoon of May 31, after traveling 1610 nautical miles from the British Virgin Islands.  We were ensconced in fog since we left the whales, and motored the final 24 hours in relatively calm seas.  The temperature hovered in the forties overnight, and we wore triple layers on our watches.  We did not escape the fog until we passed Deer Island, and found Boston to be basking in Summer weather.  Harbor seals and birds greeted our arrival, with one young wren landing on our boat and hopping into the cabin for a half hour rest.  It seemed lost as it later hovered over the water trying to decide whether to settle.  We were concerned that we were taking it from the plush environs of Cohasset to the grit of East Boston.  Do birds have accents?

In order to clear customs, we were instructed by officials in Portland, Maine to meet an officer from the Department of Homeland Security at Boston Yacht Haven.  Boston Yacht Haven is the monstrosity built by Les Marino at the end of Commercial Wharf.  After Marino’s death, it was sold to a new owner. The marina contracts with the government to permit government mandated docking and boarding to take place on its docks.  The Nicholas Cage look-alike officer was quite friendly, and asked to see our passports. He did not examine our water jugs to make certain that they contained only water, nor did he come on board to look for terrorists.  In fact, when I tried to hand him the contraband fruit and vegetables, he instructed us to eat them on board.  After we passed the rigorous examination, he said I needed to check into the office at the marina.  I asked why, since we were not staying there.  He just shrugged and said that the management probably wants us to fill out paperwork.  When I got there, the marina manager demanded a $75 docking fee for the 5 minutes of government required business.  Maybe Dick Cheney purchased the marina.  I refused to pay and we cast off.  As I write this late at night on Tuesday, I have not yet been arrested, but I suspect that my phones will soon be tapped.

We went over to Boston Harbor Shipyard and Marina operating on diesel fumes.  Slip E8 will be the home of Welcome III until the boat is pulled for the winter.  We sat on the dock, stunned at what we had done.  Thank you Michael – we did this because of your willingness to fight sea sickness and fog to make our way home.

For me, this marks both the end and the beginning.  I have always wanted to sail offshore, occasionally harboring insane thoughts about sailing full time for a few years.  This trip to and from the Virgin Islands was the reachable part of that dream.  I started planning this many years ago as I read about and admired sturdy offshore sailboats.  I had partners in these dreams with my father and brother, who were not only interested in sailboats, but encouraged me as I reached.  In April of 2004, I located the boat that met my criteria.  I spent the next year and one half determining what sort of voyage was possible, and then equipping the boat and planning with those who agreed to be part of the offshore sailing. Of equal importance were those whose onshore support allowed me to take the time away from my life and obligations.  In particular, this would not have been possible without the loving encouragement of Kate, who was hugely relieved that she did not have to be part of it.  She had to do double duty at home, including walking the dogs when it was my turn.  My law partner Paul tended to both his and my clients in my absence.  My business partner Johanna continued to attempt to extract milk from the dry cow.  

I have been able to achieve an important personal goal.  The boat trip was not around the world, but it met my desire to be a successful offshore sailor.  I learned a tremendous amount about sailing, offshore passage making, and myself.  I have achieved something personally meaningful, and can now begin planning new challenges.  I now know that if I reach, and am flexible, good things happen.

Internet Access Denied

It is Tuesday, May 30, 2006, mid afternoon. Our satellite access to the internet has been down since Sunday afternoon. Consequently, we have been unable to get weather charts or to make blog entries. We know that this will cause some folks to worry, but our inability to communicate does not mean that something is wrong with us. Something is wrong with Globalstar, the service provider.

Shortly after we left the Gulf Stream on Sunday, we were forced to motor for 30 hours in thick fog and no wind. The seas appeared as undulating glass. Apparently, this area is often foggy due to the dramatic changes in air and seas temperatures. It makes the cockpit wet even without rain. On Monday we saw sea temperatures of 65 degrees as we were leaving the stream, 55 degrees in the continental slope area, and we are now sailing in 45 degree water. The water around us is a dark green. Bottlenose dolphins were regular visitors in the fog, jumping about and racing the boat. They also visited last night, when we were alerted to their presence by splashes. When we looked into the dark water, we could see them underwater because their powerful tails caused the phosphorescent plankton to shine in their wake. Night also brought unidentified white birds off our stern. Portuguese Man of Wars continue to populate our route. Shearwaters are common, and we are beginning to see a few gulls.

On Monday night, we were sailing above the slope of the continental shelf, in the fog. The radar picked up numerous fishing boats. The radar has a guard zone, set to go off when an object is within four miles of the boat. It went off constantly. One time, the fog lifted briefly and we could make out a few lights on what must have been a factory fishing boat. It was barely moving, and did not have the powerful engine noise of the draggers and trawlers. All of the boat traffic made staying awake on watch relatively easy.

While we are incredibly frustrated with all of the motoring, today has been the most spectacular day yet. This morning was spent identifying the dozens of whales around us. It was as though we were part of their pods. This area southeast of Nantucket is a breeding ground for the Northern Right Whale. It is estimated that there are between 300 and 350 individuals of this species left in the world, and they are the most endangered of all whales. We saw dozens of them. They are distinctive because they skim the surface with their mouths open to feed, are without dorsal fins, have white crust in front of their blow holes, and have distinctive flukes. We would hear the sound of air being blown into a long necked bottle, spin about, and witness geysers exploding from the sea. The whales would raise their heads and we would watch them skim the surface, up and down, for a very long time. Occasionally, we would witness the flukes in the air as the mammals dove into the deep. We also saw numerous Humpback Whales, easily distinguished from the Right Whale by the shape of its fluke and the presence of a dorsal fin. Nothing seems important after spending the morning in the presence of these creatures.

Atlantic White-Sided Dolphins have escorted us in the last hour. They are distinctive with a mustard colored flank patch. I have tried to get photographs of the magnificent beings who have made this journey so wonderous. However, consumer digital cameras have lag times between pressing the shoot button and the lens actually opening and closing. I have a lot of photos of the turbulent water succeeding these shows.

Our motor use has caused great consternation regarding fuel consumption and whether we will have enough to get home by Wednesday. We carry 37 gallons of diesel fuel. We added an additional 20 gallons in the jugs. Yesterday, we topped off the tank using all fuel left in the jugs, for a total of 57 gallons available. When we filled our tanks in Bermuda, the engine hours were 1117. Going to Bermuda, we used three quarters of a gallon an hour. I know that at a low RPM, it is possible to achieve one-half gallon per hour, but typically the boat gets two-thirds of a gallon per hour. Our engine hours are now 1178. We have approximately 100 miles to go. At 2000 RPMs, we can reach 5 knots, if the current is not against us. There is very little wind, and very little in the long range forecasts we received prior to losing internet capacity. It seems like a high pressure system is stuck over the region, making for pleasant weather, but poor sailing conditions. We should be fine, but it does make a captain anxious.

The calm water has helped us use our dwindling supplies. All of our fresh vegetables are gone. Michael made a pasta dinner last night. Donna has made muffins using our oats, dried fruit, eggs and long life milk. We are feeling well fed. Chores are also easier in calm water. We folded the storm jib, raised the staysail, whipped lines, and polished steel. I have read all of the books on board, the last one being Michael’s “March”, an interesting historical novel about the Civil War couched as a sequel to Little Women

Our coordinates are 41 25.674N 69 13.279W. We have a NE wind around 8 knots. The air temperature is mid 60s. We are bundled up, and sleeping is much easier when you are forced to burrow into your sleeping bag for warmth. We have been shutting off the engine as the wind increases, but then the wind dies and we are forced to motor again. Our rule regarding engine use is that when the sails cannot reach a speed of 3 knots, we motor. The fog finally dissipated this morning, and it is sunny with good visibility. We continue to see fishing boats, and expect that this evening we will see more boat as we enter shipping channels. Our anticipated arrival has dropped back from Tuesday night to Wednesday mid day.

Team Welcome

Are there degrees of idiocy?

Are there degrees of hell? Headed south last year, our Gulf Stream crossing was one for the history books. The Gulf Stream is a strong offshore current which runs up the east coast of the United States. It can be 4 knots in places. Cold and warm eddies spin off, the cold ones turning counterclockwise and the warm ones rotating clockwise. Because the current carries warm water, and prevailing winds are often contrary to the current, it is an area known for storms, strong winds and high waves. Racers try to plot the currents to secure an advantage in the annual Bermuda Race. We were not racers, but mere amateurs.

In November, our weather routing service gave us no indication that we were going to encounter storm conditions over the rhumbline. We sought out a southward meander to pick up speed from the current. For 36 hours, three of the four crew members were fighting seasickness as the boat fought winds which were sustained in the 50’s and waves 20 feet high. We lost our autopilot, a laptop was smashed, our chartplotter blew, and one crew smashed her head open in the cabin. It was extremely dangerous. By the time we reached Bermuda, we were very grateful to be alive, and each one of us contemplated abandoning the journey.

Michael and I swore that we would not make the same mistake again. We swore that we would cross the Gulf Stream at its narrowest, despite a growing width on our rhumbline. Michael researched and found a new weather routing service which specialized in the Gulf Stream. We were given waypoints to help us take advantage of favorable currents. We gulped when we saw that we would be sailing in the widest part, for 120 miles, but decided that we would trust the experts. The weather expert of the service warned us that there was a gale brewing, and indeed, we picked it up on the weather charts. We calculated that we would encounter the tail end of it, and with expected waves of 15 feet and winds in the 30s, we thought we could do it. It must be like when awomen choose to have second children, forgetting the pain of childbirth. So this time, fully informed, we set forth.

Winds started to whip up mid day yesterday. We were down to a double reefed main. With the sun still shining, but seas growing and winds hitting the 40s, we decided to change sails. We unfurled and then dropped the staysail. I crawled forward with the storm jib. The new sheets were secured to the clew after being removed from the staysail. The shackles on the furling gear are small and difficult to secure in heavy seas, so it took a while working on a wet deck to secure the tack and head of the storm jib. Must remember to add quick snap shackles to the storm jib. Michael hauled it up while I fed the luff into the furling foil. We then headed upwind to douse the main. We lost the halyard in the heavy winds and waves, and eventually pulled it to the top of the mast where it cannot harm anything. The main came down, but a tear appeared in the leech, probably from whipping against the shrouds. We have yet to examine whether the main will be useable for the remainder of the journey. Reaching under storm jib alone, we were going 5 knots. The new wind vane handled the heavy seas and the small forward sail well.

The wind peaked last night at 51 knots. It was just for a moment. The strongest sustained winds were in the low 40s. The wind was coming from the SW, and our course was NNW, so the direction was ideal. The seas were huge, we estimated the largest to be 20 feet. Although we were mostly taking them off our port stern quarter, they were irregular, and walls of water smashed into the boat and washed into the cockpit. Occasional spray entered the cabin. There was rain and lightning as we encountered the cold front. Around midnight, we decided that it would be safer to stay in the cabin, and for the person on watch to monitor the radar, wind guage and chartplotter, all of which can be accessed inside. We closed ourselves in. The cabin became stuffy, and Michael was hit with another bout of sea sickness, despite employing a pharmacy of remedies.

Storms do end, and this one began to die out around dawn. Winds are now light. We were forced to start the engine to keep a reasonable speed. It is overcast, and we do not think that we are through the front because it should bring northerly winds. Our weather routing people, who have been 100% accurate to date, forecast rough seas but diminished winds for today. We expect to be out of the Gulf Stream around 5 p.m.

What did George Bush say about “fooled you once?”

Team Welcome
Reporting from 37 31.015N 67 18.824W

The names of days have no meaning

Sitting at the navigation station as I write this, I watch the B and G Network Data wind indicator dip to 29 knots and then jump up to 41 knots. It is mostly reading in the mid-thirties, which makes this official gale weather. Seas are a rocking 9 – 12 feet. It appears that we are in the middle of a snow capped mountain range. A giant wave just walloped our stern, and Michael took an unexpected dousing in the cockpit. Everything on the navigation station that was not tied down went into the galley, including me. Although we are a little short of our next waypoint, we are adjusting our course for the following one in the middle of the stream so that we will take the waves at a more favorable angle. We have inserted one of the companionway boards to keep the seas out of the cabin.

The SW winds are supposed to stay with us until Sunday morning, at least another twelve hours. The cold front should be passing at around the time the winds turn north. Just short of the cold front, we expect squalls. Our interest in eating is nonexistent and we are focused on drinking a sufficient amount to avoid dehydration. Last night was cold, but today has been warm. We are double reefed, and moving the reefing line to the second position on the luff of the sail required a lot of planning and quite an amount of exertion. The monitor wind vane seems quite capable of taking these sloppy seas and big gusts. A very fine addition to the crew.

Current position is 36 10.235N 66 45.047W.

Welcome III

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Saturday's Report

The NE winds eventually died down last night and the seas calmed. We powered the engine at around 2 a.m. and held our course of 340 degrees to the first waypoint. Winds turned SW and picked up around noontime, so now all sails are flying. It was cold last night, and we were fully geared in long johns. sweaters, boots, winter socks and foul weather suits. Today the temperature has risen to the high 70s, making being on the deck quite pleasant.

The waypoints have been set up by our weather routing service to take advantage of the eddies and currents of the Gulf Stream. You can see a current image of the Gulf Stream at http://www.weatherimages.org/data/imag143.html . Our location right now is 33 48.415 N 65 46.220 W, with 28.7 miles to our first waypoint. Winds are out of the SW 10-15. Our speed is an unbleievalbe 6.5 - 7 knots. We should be in our first cold eddie.

Our intended course follows. The waypoints are in degrees and tenths, NOT degrees and minutes: Bermuda to 34.2N 66.1W to 36.2N 66.75W to 37.1N 67.3W to 38.2N 67.6W to 40.2N 68.0W to 42.2N 69.9W to Boston. To exchange from tenths to minutes, just multiply the digit(s) after the decimal by 6 for both the latitude and the longitude. For example, 25.3N 79.8W would be 25 degrees 18 minutes North 79 degrees 48 minutes West.

We have been downloading applicable weather charts as often as new ones are available. We were warned to expect a gale tomorrow night in our location, with seas running 9 - 15', higher in squalls. Sunday, the wind is to veer NE, which means that it will be against the current, with ensuing choppiness. We cannot find a gale on today's 24 hour or 48 hour weather charts, so we are hopefull that things will not be as bad as predicted. Much of our anxiety about leaving Bermuda had to do with the pending gale, but being out here on a beutiful sailing days makes bad things seem impossible.

Today has been a day of small chores, food and rest, to prepare for tomorrow's weather. Michael replensihed the fuel tank with the contents of one of the powder blue jerry jugs. He also made a pretty mean rice and bean dish for lunch. We both took short showers, anticipating that the weather may be too rough to take another one for a few days.

Nature continues to astound us. We have been plowing through fields of Portuguese Man-of-Wars all day. Everywhere you look you can see their translucent blue bodies floating nearby. We also had a visit from a sole Tropicbird. No dancing whales or jumping dolphins, but being out here is entertainment enough.

Welcome III

Goodbye Bermuda

Greetings from Saint George Harbour, Bermuda. Foul weather in the Gulf Stream continues to delay our passage. If we do not leave by Friday, we will abandon the boat for a few weeks so that Captain Turley can make it to her father’s wedding. Given that Joe Turley is responsible for this ridiculous passion called sailing, I would be very sorry to miss this happy event.

We docked at Captain Smokes Marina with a relatively short list of repairs to complete. Chandler Michael repaired the failed snaps on the dodger. The latrine was well scrubbed. I spent half the day in the engine room trying to limit leakage from the rudder post. It seems like the gasket may be rotted, so it is unclear if the tightening will result in less leakage once we are underway. The boat carries five Group 31 batteries – two banks of two house batteries and then a single battery devoted to starting the engine. All were surprisingly low on fluid, so each was topped off. While filling bank two, we realized that the bar securing the batteries in place had come undone, so another hour was spent on my back in the bilge blindly reaching towards the bottom of the post to secure the washer and nut. The boat got a good washing, and with the luxury of free fresh water, the water tanks were filled. Our laundry was tended to by the local laundress. The two “junk drawers” were sorted, with like spare parts grouped in plastic zip lock bags. We explored the possibility that the accumulator tank and water pressure pump might have a leak, but discarded the theory after not finding any problem. We downloaded weather charts and responded to e-mail at the internet café. A New York Times was purchased and we caught up on all the news fit to print. We took well needed showers and slept hard.

Being warned against a Tuesday departure by our weather routing service, we spent Tuesday working on additional chores. We did secure new weather charts at the Yacht Reporting Center. Our marina of six became seven as Bernie squeezed another boat against the cement dock. Docking here always draws a crowd because there are so many ways to do it badly. We all hope that the next boat maneuvers make that crew look worse than we looked upon our arrival. Poor Bernie had to crawl on his hands and knees across the plank to untangle the outer underwater pennants holding the boats away from the cement. He explained to me that he had quadruple bypass surgery and was no longer as steady at plank walking. We again conferred with our weather routing folks who advised against leaving Wednesday because of building fronts in the Gulf Stream. Bored and frustrated, we rented motor scooters from some drunken Rastafarians who offered the cheapest rentals in Saint George. Since it was a national holiday, Bermuda Day, things were busy on the road. Among the festivities, there were local dinghy races, a parade in Hamilton, and a marathon. We took the scooters to the far we