Goodbye Bahamas, Hello United States

Getting Ready to Haul the Anchor from Sampson Cay, Bahamas

Its 2:40 am...nuff said. Next time you see us, hopefully Christa and I will be in south Florida. Wish us luck on this big and important push west. Meanwhile, I leave you with a picture from yesterday's dingy exploring adventure around Sampson Cay. Pretty nice! Beats melting snow windshield wiper fluid any day.

Capt Chris

Exumas Central Bahamas

Anchored Sampson Cay, Exumas Bahamas

 I have been a sailing fool! Last Monday, the 7th, I threaded my way out of Mayaguana with SV Nautilus in tow. The weather was delightful, with winds 10 to 15 knots east south east. The direction of the wind, sometimes so maddening, remained its stubborn self and stayed mostly east of south. It is hard to explain why the east south east wind is so maddening. But here goes. For long time readers, you all know how difficult and taxing my trip to windward, toward the Caribbean was. Even when I reached St Maarten, where in theory all this great Caribbean broad reaching sailing sound begin in earnest, never really met my expectations. From the northern leewards right on through to Grenada, Christa and I still had to occasionally battle head winds.

So it was with great relish, that I lit out from Grenada in early November, for the true trade wind sail back home to the USA. Don't be deceived, a large percentage of the time conditions have been delightful, at least from Grenada to St Thomas. Since then, the wind has sagged to ESE, putting the wind directly on the stern, not for a day or two, but constantly. So this has been a pain in the rump, adding many many extra miles and a lot of work. This means I have to gibe the boat. I don't like to gibe once, never mind ten times on a passage. As a single hander it is a big production and on a Westsail it is even more of a production than other boats. If done in-correctly my very large mainsail will come ripping across the boat possibly potentially tearing the sailtrack square out of the deck. The boat is generally rolling heavily as the waves move closer astern and at the moment of truth, when the wind gets on the other side of the main, if the stars align and the boat rolls in combination with the gibe, the forces are immense.  To alievate the strain, I double reef the main. So a gibe involves, rolling in the jib (can't gibe with jib out due to staysail stay), reefing the main, dis engaging the windvane steering gear, stowing the running back stays and finally the gibe. If the jib is poled out just add  another task to the list. All in 15 to 20 minutes. At night longer. As fatigue sets in, I slow the process down so I can catch mistakes. Sorry for all the details, hope I didn't lose you! My long winded point being, I though the sail home would be all broad reaching. But once again, what you see and read in the glossy sailing magazines is vastly different than reality. I am complaining a little bit, but my deep satisfaction with making the boat move through the water remains. Sometimes, it is pure magic and the glossy magazines can't capture either.

So where was I. I sailed due west from about 10 am to near sunset. Wonderful, beautiful broad reaching, but not in the correct direction! Time to gibe. With Acklins island only 5 miles ahead, I changed direction and sailed due north between West Plana Cay and Acklins Islands. Again, the sailing was beautiful on a moonless night, stars a plenty and with a fair current we picked up speed to 7 knots. By midnight I was in such a position to gibe again and sail up the east coast of Long Island. As the sun was sinking, the wind started to get light and I fired the engine for the last two hours. The anchor was down by sunset in Calabash Bay on the northwestern tip of Long Island. Distance covered, 220 nautical miles. With a belly full of Mac and Cheese, I fell into a deep sleep in a calm bay, only to be awakened by my Zen like alarm on my Blackberry Curve. It was 2am. Time to make the donuts.

With a fistful of French Roast, I hauled the anchor and was undersail by 3am bound for Galliot Cut to make my entrance onto the Exuma Bank. A critical timing issue, given the velocity of the current in the these cuts. I was under the gun. The fire 3 hours of sailing was done within the lee of Long Island with little sea action. Again I fought the east south east breeze and had to gibe several times. I arrived at the cut, about an hour late and had to the enter the cut on the ebb. The water is very turbulent as the current opposes the ocean swell, but with 51 horses of Yanmar under the hood, Christa and I powered thru at 3 knots, until we were spit out onto the banks. It was 3pm and we had covered 63 nautical miles. I dropped the hook in a secure little anchorage. Strapped on my mask and finns to check the anchor. The water is so clear, one never tires of it, but the current was still ripping. I jumped in and almost got swept away to the nether nether world. I grabbed ahold of the rubber as jelly fish were sailing passed me in the current.....and then....I was face to face with a huge Baraccuda. She was showing me her dental work. All this happened in the span of 10 seconds. Oh by the way, the anchor was snugged in the sand.

After a long deep sleep, I awoke yesterday morning and weigh anchor for a 17 mile sail north along the Exumas to Sampson Cay where I am now anchored. A lovely little resort adorns the island. The picture above is the marina on the island.

I am now about 48 hours, or about 200 plus nautical mile sail to reach Florida. Unless today's forecast changes substantially I will leave tomorrow morning bright and early bound for Florida. My route, takes me from Compass Cay in the Exumas, due west along the Decca Channel (28 miles), where I enter the Tongue of the Ocean. Turn north for about 90 miles, pass west of Nassau, to the NW Channel, where I enter the Banks again. Turn West to Russel Beacon, turn west south west to South Riding Rock, where I enter the Florida Straits and cross the Gulf Stream. I hope to land somewhere in the Florida Keys. Maybe Key largo, Maybe Rodriequez Key. Will depend on weather and the velocity of the Gulf Stream. I need to be in Marathon no later than Wednsday before the next monster cold front sweeps down with north winds. Really looking forward to coming back to the United States. Dorthy said "There's no place like home."

Capt Chris

PS: Check my Google Photo Album, I've been posting many pictures.

Safe in the Bahamian Out Islands

Anchored Abrahams Bay, Mayaguana Bahamas

Last Thursday evening I pulled the anchor from Luperon Dominican Republic, along with another single hander, Oscar, a 66 year old German, married to an American and headed out to sea. I knew that it would be a rough trip to the Bahamas, as the trades had been in the low high teens and low twenties for a few days. True to form, the Dominican coast was rough. We left at about 10 pm and the first 7 or 8 hours the wind and seas were cranking. It takes some gumption to launch to sea at night by yourself and I always have to fight fear. But once I'm underway and moving, with tasks a plenty I start feeling much better. This was no different, but the sea was running 8 feet or more with twenty plus knots. At night with the clouds streaming across the glow of the moon, it felt like a storm. The boat is amazing though. Once the proper sail combination is set and the wind vane dialed in the boat easily handles a 10 foot wave rolling under her quarter. 

 The next day, we had gained sufficient distance for the Dominican coast and the sea became more consistent and smooth. In fact, I spent the rest of the trip trying to slow the boat down. Entering Mayaguana is a no joke shot through a reef, and then a five mile journey inside the reef with coral heads abound. We had to time our arrival with the proper sunlight to spy the coral easily. 

Christa entered the reef at 10 am, a tad early, but we did just fine. Anchors down in 8 feet of the clearest water on the face of the planet.

First impressions of Mayaguana. Remote. Just feels like the end of the world.

I'm looking closely at the weather and hope to leave within a couple of days to make either Long Island or shoot through Galliot Cut and make the Exuma's. We shall see!

Capt Chris

Waiting On Weather

Anchored Luperon Dominican Republic

 Deciding when to leave is tough for anyone, but for me it really is difficult. I believe part of my endless what ifing derives from my Coast Guard experience. We always thought things through exhaustively and played out each foreseeable situation and then made a go no go call. I've carried this habit forward with me and has likely served me well, but is not quantifiable.

 My penchant for waiting for the best weather situation is still strong. The only downside to this is I have to wait and do alot of what ifing. Some sailors will go with marginal conditions and take some pain along the way. I avoid marginal when I can. My current situation in Luperon is stable and am enjoying the expat and cruiser community and the cheap food. I had planned on leaving this evening for Mayaguana, 186 nm to the north and arrive ahead of the next two cold fronts. But, I would just have to sit and wait several days in Mayaguana to advance further toward Florida. Mayaguana is remote, with few supplies, no bank, 260 people, but from what I understand endless beauty and fantastic fishing. But if I'm going to be stuck somewhere I prefer a place with cheap food and access to other supplies. If I was not alone or cruising with a bunch of other boats, I'd go to Mayaguana prior to the fronts.

So it looks like at least another five days in Luperon. No big deal, but my chances of making it home for Christmas is quickly dwindling. But still possible. With good, steady weather I can make very rapid progress. I also could sail along the north coast of Cuba and be in Key West in five days. But that track has its own set of perils.

So that is that. Please check out the view of Luperon harbor for Chrsta's deck. And don't forget to leave comments. I'd love to know how you like or dislike the videos.

Capt Chris

PS: If anyone is able to get Chris Parker's Bahamas text forecasts and pass it on, that would be great. The east Caribbean is available on his website, the Bahamas is not. And I'm looking for Tide Table for Galliot Cut in the Exumas in the Bahamas if anyone had a resource for that. Sanks.

St Thomas to Luperon Dominican Republic Video

Anchored Luperon Dominican Republic

Enjoy



Capt Chris

Happy Thanksgiving From Dominican Republic

Anchored Luperon Dominican Republic

 

As usual I have much to be thankful for on this Thanksgiving. I won't go into all the minutia of my blessings, but you can check out where I was last Thanksgiving where I account for my good fortune. Click here. Don't forget to come back though.

What am I doing? Well the large cruising and expat community is putting on a full on Turkey dinner at the Luperon Yacht Club. The above picture was taken from the Yacht Club, and obviously it is a nice venue. In a day or two I hope to put together a blog entry about my observations of Luperon, where there really exists to communities that mingle comfortably. I have been no other place on earth that is quite like Luperon.

Now the sail to what I had hoped would be Mayaguana, but turned out to be the Dom Rep was fine. I now consider just about anything that is not to windward a "fine trip." First off the weather was thankfully squall free. However on the evening of the first night, I watched magnificient anvil like cumulonimbus clouds come off the northwest coast of Puerto Rico. I was 60 miles away, but the lightening and immensity of the storms were really impressive. As I noted before the wind stayed ESE at about 15 to 20 knots which made the sailing alot of work. So far off the wind it becomes difficult to keep air in the sails as it rocks back and forth back and forth. I poled out the jib with the whisker pole which mitigated some of the snapping of the sails, but not all. Sometimes Christa would roll heavily to one side and with a bang the jib would snap to with air and the whole rig would shake. I don't like putting that kind of shock load on the standing rigging, so I would pinch a little more to windward to keep air in the sails. Of course this points me in a direction I don't want to go. Over about 3 days I had sailed many more miles than I had intended. I was aware of a cold front coming off the east coast before I left and felt comfortable I could arrive in the Bahamas with plenty of time before it's arrival. But since I chewed up more water than intended and armed with the knowledge that these "tweener" seasons can produce strong gales in the Bahamas, I decided to hole up in Luperon.

In the middle of the night day two I was approached by a Canadian Navy Frigate. She never came up on AIS but I had been tracking the vessel for awhile and was becoming distressed at the constant bearing and decreasing range. Just as I was getting ready to call them on the radio, they called me. They asked a bunch of questions and went on their merry way.

 One other funny little story. Each day I would find flying fishing dead on deck. These suckers actually fly through the air, hit the top of a wave and like an Olympic Ski jumper launch. Over the passed 3 days I have been noticing an increasingly terrible smell originating somewhere up in the V- berth. Sometime a critter can cling the anchor chain and when the chain is aboard, in the anchor locker, it can stink a little. I pretty much chalked it up to that. But today was horrible. Upon further investigation I found a dead flying fish rotting between my mattress and the bulk head. Apparently he flew through the open hatch! That is crazy! I disposed of the carcas this morning.

Eat well!

Capt Chris

Luperon Dominican Republic......What the Hell?

On the Hook, Luperon Dominican Republic

 I'll keep this short as my internet connection is choking. But, all is well and Christa and I diverted to Luperon due to a cold front that has come off Florida and is advancing on the Bahamas. A cold front will bring north winds, north swell and possible squalls.


 I'll write some more details on the sail from St Thomas to Luperon later. But generally it was fine, but the wind was east south east and my heading was west north west. I simply cannot sail straight down wind. So I had to gybe the boat back and forth. First I'd sail north north west, then gybe and sail south south east, and so on. This tacked on my more miles and was going to jack up my ETA to Mayaguana. I didn't want to stress about this as it was important that I arrive in Mayaguana with good sun light to thread the reef. So as I was mulling all this over looking at the charts, there was Luperon, only 35 miles south of me. A no brainer, only 35 miles out of the way, not to windward and when leaving Luperon, I'll have a great angle on the wind.

Believe me, no one is more surprised than I to be back in Luperon. Luperon holds many memories for me.

More Later!

Capt Chris

PS: The above shot was taken the morning I departed St. Thomas

Goodbye Carribean Sea Hello Atlantic Ocean

On a Mooring Honey Moon Beach, Water Island, St Thomas USVI

The time has come to roll out of Honey Moon Bay. It's tough, I mean have a look at a typical evening sunset seen from Christa's deck, but I have a weather window to sail north by north west.

My track takes me from St Thomas west by northwest, passed the north coast of Puerto Rico to the southern edge of the Navidad and Silver banks (north of Cabo Samana Dominican Republic), south of Turks & Caicos, where I turn north northwest, pass west of West Caicos to Mayaguana. Total distance is 527 nautical miles. At 5.5 knots should take me about 4 days. Should be a nice run with bale out points of PR, The DR and the Turks & Caicos.

The weather is forecast to be 15 to 20 from the east, with isolated showers and thunderstorms. It would be nice if the wind came around from the east north east to give me a better angle. I may be running very far off the wind. Could give me a chance to try and pole out the jib with my whisker pole, which I've never had the opportunity to use.

So all is well, but a little sad to be leaving behind dear friends. But the future looks great and that cushions the blow. Wish me luck!

Capt Chris

Squalls......I loath Them

On a Mooring, Honey Moon Beach, St Thomas USVI

Not all squalls are created equal, but still I treat each one with heavy skepicism. This is based on my experience. Since I arrived here in Honeymoon about a week and half ago, we have been buffeted by squalls due to a trough of low pressure north of the islands. They have not been continuous, but there unpredictability is unsettling to say the least. The only forecasting silver lining is access to Doppler Radar out of San Juan, which allows us to gauge the motion and possible severity. That is if your up and about and aboard. Each evening the sunsets have been some of the best I've ever witnessed. This is due to the proximity of squalls and an unstable atmosphere. That is the paradox, mother nature is really at her most beautiful when unleashing her power.

Now, Honey Moon anchorage is protected from normal easterly weather.....aka....the trade winds. What has been disconcerting about the past week or so is all the squalls have produced west winds. This turns Honey Moon into a potential death trap. I don't mean death in the literal sense, but that all of us could end up aground on the beach in a big heap in a heart beat.

We have had two severe squalls hit, both at about 2am. It always happens at 2am. What happens is you wake to the sound of thunder and or rain coming through the hatch. The first squall, waves arrived into the anchorage before the actual squall. So this micro-storm was pushing water ahead of it like a bulldozer. Then it hit with wind in the mid 30's to low 40's, lightning and so much rain you can barely make out the boat next door. All hands made it through the squall unscathed.

Now the low that had been creating these conditions had moved and the forecast was for all this squall activity to subside.

So it was quite surprising two nights ago to awake with a doozy of a squall. Very small in terms of coverage, but what a punch. In a flash Christa swung 180 degrees with the bow now pointing into the wind coming in from the west. I don't have an installed wind gauge, only a hand-held wind gauge. I surely had no time to check the wind with the gauge. But I do know the blades on my wind generator are designed to "feather" at 45 knots (with a horrific noise) to prevent the mechanism from exploding. They feathered instantly, so I believe the wind was at 50 to 55knots. I got the engine started and navigation gear up and running in case I broke loose. About this time I hear Kristopher from Wandering Dolphin, right next to me screaming my name. A boat in front of them broke loose, slammed into the WD and had wrapped it's rudder around there mooring line. Those two boats were now attached and slamming into one another in the 50 knots and now 3 to 4 foot waves generated in an instant.

This type of situation always poses a difficult dilema. Do I leave Christa to go over and help WD? The chances of Christa breaking loose were good. However, WD seemed to be in real trouble and at the moment my situation was stable. I put on a shirt (as the temperature dropped and I was shivering) and got in my dingy and headed over. Things were not good. The crunch of  two 20,000lbs boats crashing together is horrible. I came around the stern of WD, trying to power into the waves with my little 4hp Yamaha, I hit a short steep 3 or 4 footer and the brunt of the wind, all the water that had collected in the dink, the fuel can and me, moved to the back of the dink rapidly. End over end we went. I found myself under my dingy, calm and getting my bearings. I took a moment or tow to orient myself and swam out from under the dink and climbed about WD dingy.  Chaos still reined. My dink was floating away upside down with the engine submerged in salt water, I leaped up onto WD to see what I could do. Nothing, no one could do anything until the squall passed. All of us were aware that now two boats were attached to the same mooring, pray the mooring holds or both boats will end up on the beach in a gigantic tangle. Not to mention I'm watching Christa pitching to and fro,  praying that she doesn't break loose as now I have no way to get back even if she does break loose. Like I said, I loath squalls.

What are the lessons? Well probably plenty. One maybe would be to get to an anchorage that has all around protection. Few and far between. But I will say this. I've realized since I left in 2007, this type of experience is just the price of admission. You can't prevent everything. If you can't deal with a 50 knot squall you probably don't belong out cruising amongst the islands. I still find them very frightening and can't stand them. But as Kristopher and I were discussing, it is amazing at how few boats actually end up on the beach or rocks. It's kind of a rarity.

So there is more to the story, but WD is fine, but has damage to the boat; two very nice cruisers in another boat, came over after the storm and spent two hours dismantling the outboard and flushing it out until 4am. We were able to get her running again yesterday. I lost an oar and a hand-held de-watering pump, a lock and much sleep.

So that is that. Right on schedule last-night another squall passed through at 2am, but thankfully was not strong, but we all swung around to the west....again.

Capt Chris

Grenada to St Thomas Across the Caribbean Sea Compilation

On a Mooring Honey Moon Bay, Water Island, St Thomas USVI

I am having great fun putting together these video's and learning about editing. Hope you enjoy. I have some footage of just prior to me leaving Grenada and some other stuff, but mostly sailing Christa north.



Capt Chris

PS: I've been also busy with my Canon G11. Please surf on over and check my pictures out in My Photo Album