My Winter Home, Naples Florida

Moored Starboard Side too, Naples Florida
Partly cloudy, high 70's

My sail from Marathon to Naples surely was one of the most trying sails I've had in my life. Total distance was just over 100 nm and I was hard on the wind or close reaching for the entire distance, rail down in 20 knots plus. Westsail's are very tough boats indeed and I am thankful, once again that I spent the money and time to oversize the rigging and care for the boats systems. The strain on the rig is immense during trips like the one I just had. Florida Bay, of which I just covered is not open ocean, but it churns up a steep chop that is very difficult, especially for such a wide beam, as Christa has. In order to keep the boat moving through a steep chop, I must carry maximum sail area, if not each wave will just serve to stop Christa in her tracks. This means being over canvased, which means the boat is out of balance, which means the windvane struggles to keep Christa on track. This results in more wandering back and forth which adds to the amount of distance and time one must pound into the weather. Such was the case. Why go? Did I violate my rule of waiting for appropriate weather? I went because I very much wanted to get to my destination prior to Christmas and with the weather pattern, I would have spent another two weeks, maybe more in Marathon. And I did violate my weather rule, but not exceedingly.

Christa, in her normal fashion took very good care of me. I have become a better sailor since I left in 2007 and can make her sail to windward when needed. The problem is, it takes a lot of work to keep her moving. To explain: The wind is not perfectly consistant. Sometimes the wind would plus up and I'd be moving at 6.5 to 6.8 knots.....to fast....to much pounding. I head up on deck and reef the main..or or strike the jib and raise the staysail. With things dialed in....maybe a few minutes later, the wind would ease just enough where the steep chop would take over and we'd be moving at 3.5 knots or sometimes we'd hit just 1 knot. No good. I'd crack on more sail, keep things situated and lay down. This cycle lasted the entire trip. This results in zero sleep. I perservered despite the cold and constant spray and by 6am, I was getting some relief due to the proximity of land. I was truly bolstered with the imagery of beautiful Naples and the safe and secure dock floating around my tired knoggin. As the sun was rising in the east I was entering Gordon's Pass into Naples. Things kind of unraveled at this point.

I was very very tired, not just sleep wise, but physically, hands tore up, back hurting, just running low. Speaking of low, just as I was making my last turn under power into the canal, no more than two hundred yards from my final destination, I ran aground. This was not totally unexpected, but demoralizing in the extreme. I back off the bank and back into the intercoastal waterway.

You see all of Naples is hellishly shallow, an inch outside the channel and you may run aground in your bass tracker. None of the charts are accurate, shoaling is occuring all the time and the dredge is always sucking up mud some where locally. I was considering the fact I may not be able to get to the dock at all. I had taken a turn to negative town, in fact I checked into N town and lobbied the mayor and ran aground again. I backed out and headed to the town marina to get situated and ran aground off the town dock. Lovely. I eventually made it onto a mooring, after nearly grounding in the mooring field.

John Gamble to the rescue. My buddy John who is down here for the holidays, hopped into a boat and came over to Christa at the mooring to get a game plan together and generally talk me off the ledge.  We rallied. We simply started sounding out the channel and found one. Old school style, we lined the stern up on a big ole mansion, pointed the bow toward a boat on a lift, came within 5 feet of the boat, came starboard and stayed close in to the breakwater and finally turned into Mike and Amy's canal. Game on! We watched a movie waiting for the tide to rise to maximum, retrieved Christa and motored on in with tow feet under the keel to spare. Beautiful.

Thankful, happy, relieved, overjoyed. These are words that spring to mind after a long and deep sleep last night. I'm back in the saddle.

This concludes my active sailing for awhile and my life now takes a turn. I really hope that you all, the blog readers will continue to check in with me as I re-direct my life. I plan on getting a job, but also I have all kinds of projects on the boat planned and this will be relevant for boat people.

A special shout out to Mike and Amy for allowing me to tie up to their beautiful spot and plug into the world. And to my bud John, who once again came through when moral was low. And the readers of the blog. With all the information to digest, the shear number of blogs, I still marvel at the fact anyone stops by mine, let alone reads it regularly. Thank you!

Capt Chris

Rolling to Naples

On a mooring Boot Key Harbor, Marathon Florida Keys

I have the best weather window I can see for sometime and so I think I'll take it. The temperatures are down right cold for Florida. I don't want to belly ache about it to much. But when your sailing with temps in the low 60's with a biting 20 knot northeast wind and salt spray, it can get cold. I should be close reaching for the 90 miles to Naples and hope to arrive at the entrance to Naples harbor by sunrise tomorrow. If I chicken out, I'll let you know!

Capt Chris

Galliot Cut to Sampson Cay Video

On a mooring, Boot Key Harbor, Marathon Florida Keys


Man is it cold! Only in the 60's here in the keys. Burrr. So here is my latest video editing effort. I need to put in a disclaimer. The videos I post only show, generally optimal sailing conditions. I do not shoot video during the bad times, hard on the wind, cabin a disaster, spray flying all over the place, smell of fuel, mold in the bread ect ect. This is kind of a shame in that it gives a false impression of what sailing long term is really like. Who wants to see some sweaty dude humping 5 gallon water jugs all over the place? Or the distress when your buying yet another can of Vienna Sausages for dinner. There are aspects that can't be captured, but only experienced. For all the budding cruisers, I recommend racheting down the bliss factor a notch or two.

Enjoy!

Capt Chris

PS: You'll notice in the center of the video, a glare or some kind of a blob. Well I dropped the Flip Video camera and cracked the lens. The the crack is impacting some of the quality. Sorry bout that.

Report on Sail from Exumas to Key Largo

On a Mooring, Boot Key Harbor, Florida Keys


I was analyzing my charts a few days before my intended departure from the Bahamas and discovered a channel, called the Decca Channel, that runs due west right from Sampson Cay. To explain: The standard trek to and from Florida, toward the Exumas is via Nassau. Kind of pain and out of way if your just in transit. So I was most excited to find that the Decca Channel was a viable option. The graphic below gives you a satellite view of my route.

As per usual weather analysis was key prior to departure and especially in this instance as I needed to slip in between two cold fronts. I was concerned about this trip as I was in the grips of "channel fever", having nothing to do with the Decca Channel. Channel fever is well known to Naval types. After a long cruise, the desire to get home makes the preceding 48 hours prior to arrival very difficult. Bad things can happen while in the grips of the fever. I wanted to get to Florida before the arrival of a series of cold fronts that would have meant extra time in the Bahamas. I know what some of you are thinking, poor baby has to spend time in the Bahamas. Somebody get me my buppbee. But you simply can't argue with my feelings.

A cold front had just passed the northern Bahamas and was due to lift the morning of my departure, with some easing of the northeast wind. So consult the chart above. Sampson Cay departure forecast was east north east at 15 knots and "gusty." Near the NW Channel and north, the wind was 20 to 30 knots out of the northeast. Yikes! But it would take me 24 hours to reach the NW Channel and by the then the forecast was for easing rapidly of the wind. These computer models are pretty accurate within 48 hours, but even an hour or two screw up could mean a terrible pounding for me.

I had made the decision to roll at 3am. But then.....my friends from SV Woofie came tooling into Sampson Cay on their beautiful and phat Lagoon 41. It was like a condo! Anyway, it was such a delight to spend an evening with Mark and Nina. We had spent Christmas together my first year out in 2007. I was terribly tempted to stay and hang out with Woofie. But I have "the fever."

I did not get much sleep, maybe 4 hours tops before I left the next morning for the 48 hour sail. I was like a pilot on instrument take off, I couldn't see a thing. No moon and pitch black. I just followed my electronic charts out the cut and onto the banks. By day break I was in the Decca Channel and under sail. By noon, I had entered the Tongue of the Ocean and make the turn to the northwest. The wind picked up. I was under a double reefed main and staysail in 20 knots plus with a due east direction. We sailed just fine under these conditions, however I was unable get any rest during the afternoon as hoped for.

By nightfall I was getting tired and the wind had continued to tick up and come more from the east north east. Yup, the cold front was lifting a little slower than the models had predicted. To hedge against this, I made sure I stayed as far east as possible, so in case I became headed I  had some room to fall off. Very thankful I did this because that is exactly what i did. Around the west end of New Providence, the conditions were miserable and so was I. The sea was still running high from the 20 to 30 knots of NE breeze and now I had lost the protection of the Exuma Bank and the island of New Providence itself. On top of the weather I had multiple ships, tankers and cruise ships to deal with. Thank god for my AIS system. Thing works like a champ.

The misery really only lasted for 2 to 3 hours. As I neared the NW channel, I could continue to put the wind and seas closer to the beam and quarter and slowly the wind was finally easing. It was now close to 2 am and some sleep would have been nice. But no, the NW Channel is the entrance to the Bahamian Banks, and as such has reefs I either side with little margin for error. I needed to be on my navigational game.  Once through the cut and on the banks, I'd have plenty of room and I also could simply anchor on the banks itself. By 3 am I had made it safely onto the banks and exhaustion was upon me. It had been 24 hours since I had departed, and only 4 hours of sleep within the past 48 hours. Livin the dream. I dropped the staysail, sheeted in the main and hove to and went to sleep.

I awoke with a start at 9am, bright sunshine, light wind on an emerald sea. With the banks only 8 to 10 feet as far as the eye can see, it literally lows;  I was back in the saddle. While coffee was brewing I got Christa underway again and pointed in the correct direction, south of west for South Riding Ride. By nightfall, the wind was going very light and I was now making under 4 knots. I fired up 51 horses of Yanmar and entered the Florida Strait and the eastern edge of the Gulf Stream. Another very long night, with traffic and wind coming and going. But thankfully and as predicted the Gulf Stream was very tame. The GS can be a very nasty and dangerous place.

At sunrise, I was still fighting the 3 knot current, but was so close to my destination. I still had the fever and was blessed again with a beautiful southern Florida day. I had my anchor down by 11 am, just south of Key Largo. I slept and slept some more.

That brings all hands up to date!

Capt Chris

The Dingy Ride in the Exumas

On a mooring Boot Harbor Key, Florida Keys



Capt Chris

Home of the Brave

On a mooring Boot Harbor Key, Marathon Florida Keys
Click on the link to check the Live webcam! http://www.ci.marathon.fl.us/index.aspx?NID=600
Sailed 43 nautical miles yesterday

  I was chatting with my mom yesterday, trying to explain exactly how happy, relieved and excited I was to finally be stepping ashore back in the United States. She urged that I write up a blurb about it. Not easy to do, because I'm not sure, but figured I'd flush out my feelings as I write. I'll try and  remain objective.

 The simplest reasons about my excitement are I will be able to see my peeps, friends and family, and not have to dash off and gather up the boat and move on to another port of call. Another reason is my excitement in opening another chapter in my life (college, back to San Fran) is overriding my diminishing enthusiasm for reaching another island. More on that in a moment.  Up until recently I really had not been doing any real open ocean sailing. But since leaving Grenada, I finally had a chance to do some longer legs and on balance love the longer trips. Strip everything else away, and I truly love the actual sailing, trade wind beam or broad reaching sailing. Many times I was whooping it up on deck, all by myself as Christa was trimmed, on her feet and moving at 6.5 knots. Like I said before, there really is nothing like it, a boat being powered only by the wind. With the backdrop of difficult times, the moments of trade wind sailing were that much more intense. However, in the overall picture, at least for me, these times were few and far between.

I have no idea what the statistics are, but word around the campfire is few Americans travel overseas. I understand why, but do think that is a shame. It is a fact that beauty is all over the world. But also, America is crammed with beauty itself. But, what I have learned is when you travel outside the United States, you gain a frame of reference, a context which gives you an entirely different level of appreciation. You learn or are reminded of exactly how good we have it in America. It is fitting to explore this now, given the level of economic uncertainty gripping the US. When I compare the conditions to say Marathon Florida to the islands I have just came from, all I can say is it is stark. I was thinking about this last night, walking back to the boat. The utility poles here in the Keys are as stout as supports for the Golden Gate Bridge, with wire bundled properly and the symmetry of the system is pleasing. Now, Luperon Dominican Republic loses power every single day of the year and further more, the times are unpredictable and no one knows why this occurs. St John USVI, a US possession, has similar issues with power, but to a lesser degree. In my two months on that island I'd look from my anchorage and see a darkened island periodically. These are small examples and comparsions. Now, today we have some paranoid Americans who say this could happen in the United States. At least in the near term that is BS. Americans would not stand for it. We get impatient standing in a fast food line.

There is a concept called American exceptionalism. The President in a speech recently made reference to said concept. The first to touch on the concept was the observant Alexis de Tocqueville. I give it my full throated endorsement. It generally means that America is a special place and we have a special spot among nations. This is not to assume we have a lock on every great idea, that we should kick other nations around, but a fair review of history proves America has been a power house of progress. I bring this up, because I found myself defending America and her ideals many times, sometimes against attack from Americans themselves. Recently while in a taxi in Mayaguana the Bahamian driver, who spent every available moment trying to extract every penny in my pocket, simply stated to me that times were tough but he was expecting money from America soon. What? I shouldn't have, but couldn't let it go. I said to him, that's funny because I was waiting for the Bahamians to deposit money in my account. He was speechless. He finally said that was impossible, America is rich and Bahamians are poor. Just as some Americans lack perspective because of the bubble we live in, he lacks context because he lives on an island with 260 other people, but has a big ole satellite dish. How could he not arrive at such a conclusion? I gently pointed out that car we were driving in was invented by an American, the phone on his hip and even the electricity that flows all can be traced back to America. And that America's wealth doesn't arrive out of thin air. We had a culture class.

And that is just my point. I love my American culture. I love that you can get what you want, pretty much when you want. While, many people complain about the lack of customer service these days, lack of personal attention, America simply delivers. Down island you'll get plenty of personal attention, plenty of run around but delivery is always in question. While I may not like the prices of some things here in America, at least the prices are always published. Down island, many times you have to haggle, the attitude of extracting maximum coinage and the undercurrent of the feeling that your always ripping off the locals. And of course you are, because your a rich person from America. In many places, especially in the poorer nations, they can't even make change. And some places use that as a tactic to maximize profit. Many cruiser will scoof at this and say, well that is there culture. Fine. I'll take my American culture everyday of the week and twice on Sunday. This is not to imply at all that I don't feel pangs of sympathy when confronted with such abject poverty and no prospects of upward mobility. But it is my opinion that it is a lack of their own exceptinalism rather than America's demonstrated exceptionalism that keeps them from rising.

So with my new found appreciation for the Home of the Brave, I will endeavor to prevent my appreciation from slipping and when it does, maybe another sailing trip may to in the offing. I'll see you in traffic, where I have lost my appreciation for how maddening that little aspect of modern day America is.


Capt Chris

PS: Still one more 90 mile stretch to Naples, but two cold fronts are moving toward me. Doesn't look like I have a chance to move at least of until the 22nd. Also I have tons of video footage that I need to compile so be on the lookout. And, I still need to report on my sail from the Exumas! So much to do!

Florida Keys

Anchored Tavenier Key, Just South of Key Largo
Distance covered since Exumas, 283 nautical Miles

Thrilled to be back in the United States! It has been over two years since Christa has swished through her home waters. The sail from the Exumas was not an easy one. I'll have a full report in a day or two. Tomorrow will be another sunrise anchor detail. I intend on a 45 nm sail down the Hawk Channel, inside the reef to Marathon, where I'll hunker down and see what is what and who is who.

Capt Chris

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