North Atlantic Summary

Antigua - Azores

Rhumb line Distance: 2170nm
Distance Sailed: 2425nm
Time Taken: 23 Days
Average Speed: 4.39Kn
Maximum Wind: 35kn
Engine Usage: 23.4 hours

A bit of a sad posting I know, but its for my own reference in the future. Besides someone might be interested?

On another note, I have just recieved a position update from Otahi: N34.3126 W52.3617

North Atlantic 8

Monday 1st June 2009 (Afternoon)
Well what can you do but keep on slogging away through the waves with the promised forecast of reduced wind never really materialising. By nightfall the swell had dropped off in size but was still easily big enough to lay the boat over when the odd one timed its breaking crest just right in time to wack us in the beam or land on us. The wind had dropped, at least I think it had because it was end to end squalls into the early hours meaning the winds were still around 25kn/30kn but gustier.

I noticed a port tricolour a few miles off my starboard side around midnight and after calling them up on the radio they agreed they would give me a call if they saw any ships allowing me to get a better sleep. I forget the name of the vessel, it sounded like ‘Adam Ant’ but that’s not it. Either way, it was a very nice man in an Ocean Packet, who had problems with his radar and other Raymarine stuff (join the gang) and ‘yes’ they had an AIS onboard, it just hadn’t been fitted yet.

I should have shook out the 3rd reef around this time as our speed had reduced to around 4kn with the squalls dropping off and the skies now clear, but I couldn’t face getting ‘suited up’ and going forward in the swell and cold. I waited until first light instead and had a good nights sleep for doing so.

Tuesday 2nd June 2009
Straight after shaking out the 3rd reef (as the winds were now barely 20kn), Doris was off! Almost as if she could smell landfall or something. It was really nice not being under reduced sail and although we still had the 2nd reef in, it made all the difference to the sailing and we averaged about 6.5kn for most of the day.

Our 1200utc position was N37 53.57 W30 47.00 with 114nm covered (101nm to go), not bad considering most of the night we were doing barely 4kn.

I found another book in one of the cupboards and it was a welcome distraction to staring at GPS figures and me worrying that my XTE was not coming down at the right speed and that my VMG was optimal. I get like this when approaching land, much like Doris, who was still going break neck speed!

The book was ‘Are You Experienced’ by Ian Sutcliff, about a guy who goes to India in his ‘Gap Year’ just to shag his mate’s girlfriend. I couldn’t put the book down and by 1400utc I had finished it and I laughed the whole way through. The perfect read for that final landfall approach day. I’m not sure if these books are actually any good, it may be that anything I read is ‘interesting or entertaining’ – I’ve been at sea for over three weeks on my own for Gods Sake! Some poor soul is gonna have their ears chewed off when I find someone to talk to!

I also figured if I have to take to the liferaft now (God forbid!), I’m not going to be drifting at sea for long, being so close to land and on the main rhumb line to Horta. Therefore it would be fine for me to pillage the chocolate bar and bag of sweets in there!

Just before dark I decided to put the 3rd reef back in as the Hydrovane is having problems with the swell (rounding us up) and increasing winds, it’s back up to 20kn (from 15kn). I thought we gybed but actually we rounded up, but with the boom on a ‘preventer’ it looked like the result of a gybe. The GPS is predicting 0930utc arrival tomorrow morning.

The time is now 2300utc (39nm to landfall) and I have made a pot of pasta with cocktail sausages chopped up and a tomato sauce. I was going to prepare enough for another portion tonight, as I won’t be able to sleep. Being so close to land and all the dangers it brings, all the ‘transat’ boats will be converging on Horta, not to mention the commercials and lastly the fishing boats. Oh and land itself!

Anyway I seem to have made enough food for the entire Horta marina! Kat - its pasta for dinner on Friday eve – OK?

Wednesday 3rd June 2009
Not much else to report except that I am now safe and sound in Horta marina. I will confess that from the ‘landfall’ waypoint I put the engine on for the last 8nm. I had an almost dead run with a following swell with barely 9kn of wind – so sue me!

Landfall at dawn.

I tied up alongside another boat around 0930utc and cleared through Customs & Immigration, before being moved to another part of the marina, again alongside. Not the best but hey – it’s got FREE WIFI…wo0ho0!!!

Just as I was moving Doris I notice ‘Euge’ moored up and then suddenly Sarah & Richard appear. It’s great to see them both again as we hadn’t heard anything from them since they set off from Antigua. However, they were literally casting off for their return to the UK. We had just enough time for a chat and I helped them slip their lines. See you both in Falmouth in a few weeks hopefully!

Richard & Sarah made their mark in Horta.

All day I have spent cleaning myself (as I hadn’t shaved for two weeks) and the boat (it was a sty) up and its now 1530utc and time to relax.

So, it’s over – Amen! The North Atlantic Circuit, Single Handed – this time I really feel like I’ve achieved something and learnt a lot from this passage. Heavy conditions, weather routing decisions, all points of sail, something for the whole family! All morning people around the marina have been commenting on how hard the crossing was and the conditions etc, all of whom arrived either today or yesterday, so maybe I was justified in finding it a little hard going. It’s certainly a nice feeling once you are tied up and secure!

My new 'home' for a while.

North Atlantic 7

Thursday 28th May 2009 (Afternoon)

I sailed all day deciding to stay 'low' and keep heading East or as near as possible. The evening saw me still sailing despite making around 120T degrees (not quite backwards but close) until around 0200utc when I was finally becalmed. I decided to motorsail for two hours before not being able to stay awake any longer. At 0430utc I dropped all sail and went to bed until 0630utc, then reset the alarm for 0800utc as there was still no wind.



Friday 29th May 2009

After several futile attempts to continue sailing, I turned on the engine again at 0830utc. Luckily, there is just enough wind to allow the Hydrovane to keep me more or less on course, allowing me the freedom to have breakfast etc. I am again staying 'low' (East) due to the incoming storm which is due to hit this evening around 1800utc.

My 1200utc position is N35 13.23 W38 32.22 with 92nm covered.

After cooking a huge bag of popcorn and a pot of pasta, I waited until 1800utc, as according to the grib files, that's when the storm was due to 'officially' start for my position. Sure enough, exactly on time, the wind and waves started to rise and I gibed into the beast.

The wind rose to about 25kn and I was surfing along at over 8kn of boat speed with the Hydrovane taking care of the steering nicely. That is until it had just got dark and we got knocked over! One minute I was sitting there looking at grib files on the laptop and the next flying through the air. Its funny, you hear that familiar rushing water sound and your first thought is 'shit!', followed a microsecond later by 'brace!'. It's a shame they come in that order. Too late, I tried to save the laptop as the boat got laid completely over and my 'sideways' became my new 'downwards'. All three meters of it, with nothing to hit until I face planted into the galley cupboards, smashing my arm somewhere along the way for good measure. My first sickening thought was that I had broken my arm, thankfully just a bruised bone. Dazed and confused (for so long its untrue!), I got out on deck to find us racing along close hauled, the boom was at least on the same side of the boat so we hadn't gybed at least!

The same thing happened again a short while later, unfortunately the victim this time was my beloved kettle, which launched it self from the stove spilling a few cupfuls of water over the floor, lucky it wasn't boiling at the time! Sorry Stu, the kettle now has a dent to mark my North Atlantic crossing.

I was aware that the wave had hit us on the beam, they should almost be following seas! Then I noticed that our downwind course was now 140T as the Hydrovane was following the wind, compared with 60T (what it should have been). I hadn't realised that the storm had passed through already and where the wind was going west to east, it was now going more north to south. The waves were still going in their original direction and I had been completely oblivious to it. Well not oblivious, I was expecting the shift, but not until morning!

Anyway, I kept on sailing with the winds touching 30kn and the seas still rising, slowly came round to being on the beam as well. I had very little sleep, the boat was all over the place with loads of water coming over the cockpit and it was freezing!



Saturday 30th May 2009

At first light I managed to get an hour or so sleep before having to tend the boat. Priority was to get (more) dry clothes on and some hot food inside me.

1200utc position is N35 56.17 W36 31.64 with 117nm covered.

By now the waves were easily over 4m and on one of my routine looks around the horizon, suddenly saw a yellow bridge deck of something big appear for a second less than a mile away. I called them up on the VHF (yes it's still working fine) and found out that the tanker Miramar hadn't yet seen me. The guy on the radio (sounded American) said to someone in the background 'we're right on top of the guy, so he must mean us' before answering me. After re-giving my position, bearing and speed, he finally spotted me visually with still nothing showing on radar, being around only 1/3 of a mile away, this was worrying! He said that from his perspective he could not see the boat, any sails (3rd reef and scrap of jib) or radar reflector as they were all below the level of the waves! We finally, popped upon radar when he was actually passing us.

I must have been pretty tired because despite knowing that I was almost invisible to other vessels I managed to get a good full night of sleeps in.



Sunday 31st May 2009

Three full weeks at sea my longest ever and can't I just wait to reach land! Why is it that the Gods really want their pound of flesh for the final few hundred miles?!?!?

The seas this morning are (for me) terrifying! I have never been in such big seas and they are starting to break. I would have to guess at 5m-6m wave faces and I can't help but think if I get caught beam on to one, I can kiss my ass goodbye - not to mention the rig! The cockpit is a constant wash and some water from under the sprayhood gutters overflows down the companionway steps, making the pretty looking Hanse cabin sole as dangerous as a proverbial ice rink!

On a brighter note, once again as I stare horrified at what's in front of me, do I see lunatic dolphins swooping through the waves and having the time of their lives in their own watery skatepark. It's always a reality check scenario when you look up from your position into the eye of a dolphin set in a crystalline wave face above you! It's good to have them back.

My 1200utc position is N36 31.86 W34 33.85 with 108nm covered.

I can't keep anything on the stove and life below is tiring, while the Hydrovane is still steering perfectly well, I can't bring myself to leave the helm, staring at awe at the sight in front of me! What the hell am I doing out here! The winds are only around 25kn, with gusts to 30kn but the seas are massive. I guess from having a few days to build up and from the higher winds inside the depression? I'd love to know what Passage Weather currently show the swell heights as compared to what I'm seeing.

I received an Otahi update report, all is well at position: N32.2016 W56.2558.

By late afternoon the winds have risen to 30kn+ and I am getting worried about the waves and at what point do I 'run'. My present course keeps them just above the beam my last resort is to run with them, but that means heading south for twenty four hours (100nm+). Kat has decided to visit me this weekend and will be in Horta Friday evening, I just hope I will be as well!

Question, why the hell am I picking up NavTex weather forecasts for the US East coasts (have been for the last few weeks), Grand Banks etc and I can't get anything for the bloody Azores only a few hundred miles away!

According to the grib files the winds should be dropping off around 1800utc, the time now is 1900utc and I am still seeing 30kn+. After a quick call to Kat, it seems that I am going into (towards the Azores) faster than the depression is retreating. Bloody typical, speed when you don't want it!

I manage to get some Ravioli and a hot drink inside me before deciding to follow Kats advice and 'Hove To' and wait for the winds to drop. I am knackered, not from doing anything other than hold on for dear life and fear I think. The winds seem to drop a little and I set Doris to plod higher north under just the fully reefed mainsail making barely 2-3kn. By now its long dark and I jump into the sleeping bag. Bliss.



Monday 1st June 2009

No sooner do I get underway (0730utc - I had a lie in), so do the winds. They are back up to 30kn with squalls to 35kn. To be fair, the winds do seem to have dropped overall aside from the squalls and its going to take a few days for the seas to go down. The sun is still shining, although with the amount of water over the boat it may as well be pissing it down! Just keep telling myself, this is all good (head) training and experience for bigger things to come, the Pacific, the Southern Ocean, Antarctica ~eh?!?!?

My 1200utc position is N37 14.42 W32 53.23 with 99nm covered. Only 210nm to go!

I am just going to concentrate on going slow and (as James keeps telling me) keeping the rig up, this will also be my last post until I get to Horta or unless something noteworthy happens, as Satphone minutes are running low. Unless I'm lost at sea of course - I'm joking! I'm fine mum.

C you all in a few days.