I find it fascinating to me, how my “random” mix of posts has lead to some very interesting opportunities over the years.  And, as is the case with life in general, they always pop up at the most unexpected times.    Case and point:  The recent post about my “up close and personal” sighting of a humpback whale on our run home from Florida this week seems to have opened yet another “door” to an opportunity that I didn’t even know existed.   Let me explain…

In that post, I was trying to make the point that sometimes I loose sight, when I am underway aboard Pandora and, I suppose, in life in general,  that if I stop and look,  I’d realize that I have already arrived, a twist on the oft quoted and perhaps equally trite “the journey is it’s own reward”.

I wrote about an amazing interaction with a Humpback Whale near the Hudson Canyon, about 100 miles east of New York.   The canyon was cut in the continental shelf about 10,000 years ago during the last ice age when sea levels were some 400 feet lower than they are today. 400′ lower?  And we are worried sick about a change in sea levels of a few feet.   During the last ice age, and it wasn’t the first one, all that water ended up as ice and snow that piled up over a period of thousands of years.  Yikes, I’ll bet that would cause quite a run on snowblowers at Home Depot.  Thinking ahead, I wonder if Al Gore has invested any of his speaking fees on Global Warming in Home Depot stock. Perhaps not as he seems pretty sure that it’s going to get a lot warmer before it begins to get colder.   Canoes anyone?  Anyway, I digress.

So, after I put up that post, I put a near breathless link to my blog on Facebook about my sighting.  So, what happens?   The next day I get a comment on my blog from someone at NOAA.    No, not the “other” Noah, the “40 days and 40 nights” Ark Noah?  I get a comment from someone with the Woods Hole NOAA, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.  You know, the folks that brought you the Titanic, well at least photos of the Titanic?

Anyway, my first reaction when I saw the message was that I was about to get scolded for harassing cetaceans and reminding me that I should keep a safe distance.   My many experiences, over the years, of being warned to stay away from naval vessels conducting exercises, has made me wary of such things.  Sort of akin to receiving a dreaded letter from the IRS. “It has come to our attention…”

Fortunately, it was nothing of the sort.  The correspondence was from a Nathalie (her real name) who runs a Caribbean program for tracking migration patterns of humpback whales.  Sounds like a pretty good gig, if you ask me.   “Sorry honey, I’ll be away on on a business trip WORKING IN THE CARIBBEAN on your birthday.  I promise to make it up to you, really.”  This program, which she manages, enlists the help of cruisers in keeping track of migrating humpbacks.

So, Nathalie it seems, is also a “snowbird”,sort of like me and Brenda, splitting her time between the eastern Caribbean and Woods Hole.  Humpback whales  travel from the Gulf of Maine to the Caribbean and back, every year.  And, some of them (the whales) also take trips across the Atlantic to the Cape Verde Islands.  Here’s a map of humpback migration patterns from the NOAA site.  Want to read more? Click here for the full PDF. I have an idea…. “Brenda?  How about we follow migrating humpback whales east too?  It’s not that far, just a quick jaunt to the Cape Verde Islands.  We could duplicate the migration patterns of Megaptera novaeangliae.”  Brenda majored in Latin and Greek so she’ll know exactly what that means.   “You know, NOAA needs us to do this.  The future health of the humpback whale population may depend on it!   And besides, the Cape Verdes, well they look pretty close on the map.  And as you see, they aren’t far from Africa at all.  Want to go to Africa too?   We’d almost be there by that point.  Besides, I like to eat and look at all the feeding areas.  And, they have “OTHER” areas (in yellow) too.   That’s always fun.”  “Down boy, down boy, get a grip Bob”  “Oh…” (he says dejectedly)

I cribbed this image from caribtails.org, a site managed by NOAA, supporting an organized effort, with cruisers like us, designed to track and identify individual humpbacks and to better understand their lives and travels.  It seems that whales have the same travel plans as me and Brenda for this year and next.  What a coincidence! “I love Maine!  Brenda, let’s go there too!”

Each whale has a unique pattern of tail fluke markings that allows the identification of individuals.  Who knew?  NOAA’s site has a number of good resources including some tips on how to have the best experience for you and the whale as well as some suggestions on how to get good photos.  Their fluke markings are as distinctive as our fingerprints.  Here’s two examples from NOAA of how different they can be. 

I am hoping that my photo, not taken from the best angle I now know might not be sharp enough to be identified in their database.    It would be terrific if I could learn more about “my whale” and where she/he has been sighted.  If he’s “new to science” perhaps they will name him “Bob” or her, “Bobbie”,  Perhaps I am getting ahead of myself.  “Yes, Bob, totally!”  Anyway, if the photo doesn’t check out, perhaps Brenda and I will get another chance to see her/him next winter in the Caribbean.

That would be just so great and I can’t wait for another opportunity to holler “thar she blows”.  And, now I know that she’s also blowing “thar and thar” as they make their way north and south with the seasons.

“Brenda, we need a new camera!  We absolutely MUST be prepared!”

So, there you have it.   A chance sighting of a whale on my way north this week has opened a door at NOAA.   How cool is that?  Perhaps I’ll get a tour.   Yes, that would be fun.

You just never know where life will lead.  I guess I might also get hit by a truck today.  No, I’m going with this, for now instead.

Yeah, this is way better, for sure.

Well, that’s it, I am in home waters again and a winter of sailing aboard Pandora’s finis.  Pandora’s voyage down the east Coast, to the Bahamas, around much of the coast of Cuba, back to Florida and then to CT is said and done and she’s tied up at the Essex Yacht Club for a day or two.   And speaking of Cuba, which I have in nauseating detail for months now, if you haven’t noticed.  Did you know that you can fit all of the islands in the ENTIRE Caribbean into Cuba and that island is still bigger?  It’s huge, nearly 600 miles long and Brenda and I sailed the entire length of it and then some.   You go girl!!!

I’d have to check my log but I believe that the trip put about 4,000 miles on Pandora this season.  It doesn’t seem like that long ago, another lifetime though, when it would have taken me several years to make that sort of distance.  Such is the grey and colorless life of the retired. 

Anyway, it was some winter afloat but it’s done.  This is the sight that greeted me as I passed the light at the entrance of the CT River yesterday afternoon as if to say “welcome home Pandora”.  She too (if lighthouses are feminine) is showing a bit of wear and tear, just like me, Brenda and Pandora after a winter on the move. She still looks great, present company included. I think it’s safe to say that a trip like ours (Brenda’s and mine) was a lot like life in general.  There are times when you say “pinch me, I must be dreaming, but in a good way” and there are others when something more akin to “I want to be home in my own bed.  Waaaaaa!!!!”  And sometimes, when cruising on a small boat, it really seems that the latter wins the day.

So, if you followed my, sort of, daily posts from Pandora’s passage from Florida back to CT over the last week, you got a taste of what passage making can be like. That run had something for everybody including the sort of moments that everybody should experience along with the sort of moments that everybody spends their lives trying to avoid.  You know the “into every life a little rain must fall” things?

With so many experiences to recall from the winter and the monotony that comes along with a long passage, I began to feel like “OK, let’s get this over with” as we were near the Hudson Canyon, about 100 miles southwest of Montauk.  And, by this point, my thoughts were turning to “just how long is the grass in my lawn?” with the experiences of the winter fading into memory.

So, get this!  We were motoring along over an ocean so calm that it looked more like a windless August afternoon in western Long Island Sound than the “big bad ocean” that we had experienced just the day before.

I had decided to take advantage of the calm conditions to make a nice dinner of roasted pork tenderloin and a salad with some of Brenda’s great “Home afloat” made dressing.  Me, Dave and Chris had just finished a nice cold beer and dinner and we were congratulating ourselves about what a great passage we had together when a few hundred yards off I spotted a humpback whale.  I couldn’t believe it.  Sure, we had seen our share of wildlife on this trip, including distant sightings of other whales and I close, if all to brief, encounter with a pilot whale, but I had not seen a humpback whale since our years cruising in Maine and NEVER had I seen one this close up.

I slowed Pandora and turned her around and headed back for a closer look.  We could see that “she” and I’ll call her that because something that beautiful has to be a woman.  And don’t get into the whole “Bob, it takes two to tango” and make more whales.   Just go with me on this for now…

Anyway, as we approached her, and she was going nowhere fast, just lounging on the surface blowing bubbles.  I cut the engine and let Pandora’s momentum carry us near. Then a lazy wave to Pandora as though to suggest “come hither”.She started toward us.  Yikes! She’s huge and nearly as long as Pandora.“Calm down Bob, it’s fine.”  Let’s all take a deep breath.   The moment was absolutely still except the loud rush of air of her breathing.  I can tell you that she was all alone with the “whole breathing thing” as Pandora’s crew wasn’t taking a single breath lest we spoil the moment.  Showing her stuff, warts and all.  What a sight.  And just so, so close.So, after perhaps 15 minutes… And it felt like an hour as we gawked in wonder at the sight.  She headed slowly off, literally into the sunset.Her tail gracefully and with complete silence…Slipped under the oil calm surface…And, she was gone…“Holy S%$#.   Did you see that Chris, Dave?”  Yes we did…

Dave, as I wrote in a recent post, had remarked that perhaps the best reason to make a passage like we did on Pandora, is to be able to have experiences that most will never see and I think it’s safe to say that seeing this whale, this amazing creature, is a perfect example of why I love being on the water.

And, the next time I find myself thinking “This totally sucks” when we are being pounded by a squall, I’ll have to remind myself of this amazing moment and remember that in life, when you come down to it, you just never know what lies ahead.   And I for one, intend to make the most of it.  So far, so good.    Wow!

As I reflect on the experiences of our months afloat this winter, this brief encounter, in the company of one of God’s most amazing creatures, is a fitting end to a remarkable journey.  And the next time you find yourself wondering “Are we there yet”, think again, as you may have already arrived.

There’s so much more to tell, and like it or not, I’ll be droning on and on about much more in coming posts, but perhaps I’ll just leave it there for now.

A fitting end to an amazing journey.But stay tuned.  There’s much more to come, much more.

Next winter?  The eastern Caribbean.   Now that should be a trip.

Time to cut the lawn.

It’s Tuesday afternoon and we are moving along well, motorsailing on a close reach at a bit over 8kts. We could probably sail but the seas are very lumpy with true wind of only about 13kts and I want to keep moving.

The waves have been larger than the wind would suggest as a strong squall came through mid-morning, bringing with it a 90 degree wind shift and winds peaking in the mid 30s.  It was very large cell and took hours to pass so the waves built up to quite impressively, and quickly.   The sky was incredibly dark and ominous looking so we had a reasonable amount of warning.   Oddly, we didn’t get any rain, just a LOT of wind.

The winds were from the northeast and in order to try to minimize our deviation from our intended track and to not overwhelm the boat, we stayed in the Gulf Stream longer than we probably should have.  Generally, we would leave the Stream shortly after Hatteras and head toward the tip of Long Island, about a 10 degree course change to the west.  However, when the squall hit, we opted to turn east to stay in the Stream.  That turned out not to be a particularly good idea as with a better than two knot current opposing the wind, the waves built quickly and were alarmingly large and breaking.

At the peak of the wind, a wave hit the side of the boat, cascaded across the deck and quite a bit of water ended up washing into the back of the cockpit.  The water washed across the deck with the force of a fire hose.  Some water was forced under the seals in the deck hatches.  It was the first time that has happened.  However, there was just so much water that I suppose it shouldn’t be a surprise that some found its way down below.  I made a note to replace the gaskets.  The “to do” list gets longer.

However, the biggest mess was caused by water that leaked through the zipper in the opening at the front of the dodger, where quite a bit of water came through and ended up splashing down the companionway.  Actually, there wasn’t all that much water but what ended up on the cabin sole will certainly leave a good amount of salt in its wake.   I think that I’ll design a plexiglass “storm window” that can be affixed to the front of the dodger to eliminate that problem in the future.

I don’t want to think about what would happen if the zipper window in the front of the dodger were to fail as the amount of water that hit it today was pretty amazing.   With a plumb bow and the boat moving along fairly fast, a lot of water finds its way on deck so it’s only a matter of time until we really get hit by a big wave that will overwhelm the vinyl window.  What a mess that would be.   For an “anal” guy like me, that much salt down below would be quite distressing.

While Pandora is in quite good shape, the number of “to do’s” that are piling up is a bit overwhelming.  And don’t forget that I have to find time to remodel two bathrooms this summer.  Yes, Brenda, I remember.  And yes, I want the new baths too.

As I write this we are about 300 miles from home and I expect to round Montauk sometime on Thursday afternoon.  I really don’t know what sort of winds we will have or if we will be able to sail but if the wind we have today is any indication, we should be there sooner, perhaps as early as Thursday morning.   That would be great as I’d much prefer to arrive at the Club in Essex during daylight. I guess we will see.

The tide in eastern LI Sound is flooding (coming in) until early evening on Thursday so if we are able to carry the tide up the CT River, that would save us a lot of time.  It’s too early to say as the difference in our arrival time, with even a single knot difference in speed, can be many hours after such a long run.

Just a moment ago, actually within about a quarter of a mile of distance, we left the Gulf Stream with the water temperature going up about 15 degrees.   It’s remarkable to see just how quickly that happened.   The water color went from a deep blue to grey and the seas flattened out.  It’s amzaging that after a thousand miles the “wall” of the Stream is still so well defined.

It’s quite amazing how quickly things deteriorated earlier today when the wind picked up opposing the current in the Gulf Stream.  It went from an easy motor sail to really nasty in short order with water flying all over the place.   The good news is that things settled down in just a few hours once the wind dropped back to the mid-teens and we left the unsettled conditions of the Gulf Stream.  As we have been within the Stream since shortly after leaving Ft Pierce on Saturday, it feels nice to have more settled conditions.

We were visited last evening by a pod of pilot whales that came right up to the boat, not ten feet away.   I only got a glimpse of them but they were quite large, perhaps 15-20′ long.  They look like really big black dolphins.  What a sight.  Sorry, no pictures.  We have also seen quite a few dolphins, not many very close to the boat however.

Well, I am pleased that things have settled down now and hope that we won’t be hit by any more squalls but it’s nice to know that we can handle them, even when things get really “sporty”.

Happily, it seems that the crew has gotten their “sea legs” so no sickness in spite of the bumpy conditions, especially earlier today.  Well, not sporty for the moment anyway.

I guess that’s about it for now.  I am sure looking forward to being home.  1,000 miles of ocean sailing is a lot and I am ready for dry land.   For sure, it’s going to be a bit of a job to get Pandora cleaned up after a long ocean passage.

Well, we will be home soon and, with a bit of luck, that will be sometime Thursday, perhaps early Thursday.

Yes, I am ready, really ready, to be home with Brenda.

It’s Monday morning and our third day at sea and we are about 75 miles south of Cape Hatteras, the halfway point on our trip to CT. Sea conditions are calm and there is about 15kts of wind which is unfortunately, directly behind us. This means that our apparent wind, the wind speed minus our forward speed with the wind, is less than 10kts, not enough to sail.

We have been getting a good push from the Gulf Stream, up until a few hours ago as it appears that we are a bit west of the best current. A while ago another sailboat called me to ask if we knew where the center of the stream was as he too had lost the “push” and was hoping to determine if it was east or west of his position. Fortunately, I was able to contact a northbound tanker that was about 10 miles east of us who was getting a good push north. Armed with that that information we are now heading east to his general position with the hope of regaining a positive current.

We will know when we are in the Stream again as our SOG, speed over the ground, will pick up and be faster than our speed through the water. We should also see the sea temperature go up about 10 degrees as the GS is considerably warmer than the surrounding water. The “wall” of the Stream in this latitude is fairly pronounced so we should know when we are back in within a mile or two. We should also notice that the sea color is a deep blue and the surface will be a bit more confused.

Having said that, I have had trouble staying in the GS this far north as the Stream spreads out from a more well defined area further south in Florida. As we head north the Stream begins to veer east and spreads out to include many eddies and back currents. In that area, north of Hatteras, it can be frustrating to manage all of the complexities of the Stream.

And, in the “comfort” department, both Chris and Dave began feeling better yesterday afternoon as the swell and chop settled down in the Stream. I expect that they are also feeling better, as most do, after a few days at sea, regardless of conditions.

Unfortunately, that “adjustment” doesn’t carry over to the next passage and those who are susceptible to “mal de mare” must endure a few days of discomfort each time they head to sea.

Fortunately, I have never been particularly susceptible to motion sickness so it’s hard for me to relate to what it must be like, however after 40+ years of sailing with Brenda I do know that it sucks, big time. As she is inclined to say, “the only sure cure for seasickness is to sit under an apple tree”. Yes, I expect that’s a cure but it’s tough to fine afloat. Actually, that’s her point exactly.

When Chris was talking about his tendency to get sick on the first day or so at sea, he remarked that when he’s really feeling badly he “fears that he’s going to die” but after a while and a few trips to the rail, it gets worse and he then is ” afraid that he won’t”. Nope, that doesn’t sound fun at all.

So, now that the crew is back in shape and have regained their “sea legs” the galley is back in full swing. Beginning this morning we had eggs, a smell that would have sent them to the rail yesterday. Today, better. So, with reasonably calm seas in the forecast for the rest of the trip, we should be in good shape.

I spoke again with Chris Parker, the weather router, today and he predicts that the weather for the rest of the week should support our run north without our having to stop along the way. That’s good as I am certainly anxious to be home again and it’s been quite a while since Brenda and closed up the house a few days before Christmas.

Speaking of home, we were visited here on Pandora yesterday by a little guy that clearly had strayed a bit from his home and landed aboard. Unlike some visitors on past trips, this guy only stayed for an hour or so and then flew off.

I do wonder what happens to these little guys when the leave Pandora to make a run the 75 miles to shore. More to the point, what happens to the ones that don’t find a boat to land on? And, how do they know which way to go toward shore when they leave after a rest? Hmm…

Anyway, we continue to head home, slowly if surely. Did I mention that I am looking forward to being home with Brenda? Thought so.