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