It is Friday morning and we are about 450 miles from Antigua and solidly in the easterly trade winds.  After enduring days of slow going and motoring for what seemed like forever, it is good to be sailing along at a less leisurely pace.

We encountered a number of squalls overnight and shortly after dawn, one left a rainbow in it’s wake, just a sliver that went up behind the low clouds.

Or, a bit closer…

You may recall that when we were north of Bermuda, we had to delay our southward track to allow for a low near Bermuda to dissipate.  This meant that we had to sail to the east, making very little mileage south to our destination.  Over an 18-hour period we only made 60 miles toward our destination.  It was very frustrating.  And, to make matters worse, the constant slatting of the mainsail caused some damage to the gooseneck, the fitting that connects the boom to the mast.  I will have to get that repaired or replaced when I get to Antigua. 

After motoring for days in very light wind, we finally entered the trades last night and our speed picked up a lot.  We can only motor at a pace of less than 6kts and when motorsailing with a little wind to give us a boost, upwards of 7.5kts.  Under sail things get a lot better and for hours now we have been averaging 8kts+ with a few periods of 9kts+.  It is nice to see the miles reel off as we make our way south.  ]

While the trades filled in yesterday evening, we continued to motorsail for a few hours and finally were able to turn off the engine.  It is common for skippers to track their daily miles and see how many miles they cover in a 24 hour period and as I log our location and mileage every two hours, I can see how we are doing.  So, for the last 24 hours we covered 182 miles with a mix of sailing and motorsailing, a very respectable distance.  Now, as we are deep into the trades and under sail alone, our speed has crept up and if we keep up the pace of the last 12 hours we will have covered 192 miles in a day.  

I mention all this as 200 miles in a 24 hour period is a “mythical goal” for cruising boats and to be even close to this is an impressive feat.  And, one that Pandora has come close to but never achieved. 

My friend George Day, editor and publisher of Blue Water Sailing magazine as well as a number of other publications, publishes a weekly newsletter, “Cruising Compass”, and in this weeks’ issue reflects on just how hard it is to push a cruising boat to cover 200 miles in a single day. 

George had crewed with me on my last run to Antigua and here is what he had to say about the “200 mile goal” and his time aboard Pandora.

“Last weekend, American solo sailor Cole Brauer, who is racing in the non-stop Global Solo Challenge, notched a 220 mile 24-hour hour run aboard her Class 40 First Light. She is the first skipper in this event to do so, despite the fleet being comprised of many super light offshore racing monohulls. To reach a 200-mile day, you have to average 8.33 knots for 24 hours. This is commonplace for maxi racing boats, IMOCA foiling monohulls, high speed performance cats and super racing trimarans. But in mere mortal monohulls and most cruising multihulls, averaging 8.33 knots is mighty hard to achieve. A year ago, sailing in the Salty Dawg Rally from Hampton, VA to Antigua with SDSA president Bob Osborn aboard his Aerodyne 47 Pandora –a very slippery and fast Rodger Martin design—we had plenty of wind from good angles and saw four days over 190 miles. But 200? Wasn’t to be. And a few years ago, sailing transatlantic aboard Steve McInnis’s Hanse 50 Maverick, another fast cruiser with a powerful rig that seems to sail at 8 knots all the time, we didn’t crack 200 miles once. It’s the “average for 24 hours” part of the equation that is so hard to do.  So, hats off to Cole Brauer –all five foot two and 100 pounds of her– and here’s to all of you who strive but most often fail to crack that ever elusive 200-mile day. If you have a 200-mile day story you’d like to share, send it to me at george@bwsailing.com.”

When Pandora really gets going, even if she does not go a full 200 miles a day, she is wet boat with water coming over the decks nearly constantly.  Unfortunately, there remains a persistent leak near the mast and in spite of my best efforts, water is still getting below.  Not a lot, but enough to damage the woodwork if I let it go. For those who follow this blog, I spent the summer chasing leaks and have made a lot of progress but have not completely solved the problem. Alas, one more job for the guys in Trinidad to attend to next summer. 

So, here we are, me mopping up a few drips here and there and Pandora reeling off the miles toward Antigua.  Not to jinx it, but it looks like we might arrive during daylight on Monday, a day sooner than we had expected.

That would be nice.  Let us hope that nothing breaks and that the leaks slow.

Looking forward to a rum punch and a burger, medium please, when we arrive.

*P.S.  I stole George’s title too. 

It’s hard to believe that we are into our 9^th day at sea and are still 640 miles from Antigua.   Think going from NY to Chicago at 6kts.  That’s a long way.

The good news is that we are inches, feet, miles, a degree of latitude, well, at least some distance from the trade winds.  The wind was VERY light overnight but now it is beginning to fill in from the NE.  According to Chris Parker, our weather router, and the most recent GRIB files, we should begin to see sailable wind from the east within the next 40-80 miles, hopefully sooner.

As soon as we have wind on the beam (perpendicular to our course) of around 10kts, we should be able to sail.  That would be great as I will admit that I am a bit sick of listening to the drone of the engine.  Having said that, I am SO pleased to have enough fuel to handle all of the light wind.

Have I mentioned that we have been motoring a lot?  “Yes, Bob, you beat that drum FOREVER, on every passage.”

It is now becoming pretty, sort of, fairly, a little bit clear that we will be arriving either late on Monday or sometime overnight Monday/Tuesday.   Who knows, “we will be there when we are there”, as my Dad used to say.

Of course, what is a post at sea without a photo of the sunrise?  Another very pretty one. 

Zoom out and it looks a lot different. “Bob, Bob, it’s the same photo. Gimme a break!”

No, it’s not…

To prove that we were there. Pandora in the frame… Work with me on this…

And, as we motor along, really calm.

Other than that, not a lot to report.

I have been spending a lot of time refining the details of our arrival events for Antigua and while much of the schedule was in place months ago, there have been some shifting and additional events.  In some cases, frustration for some as plans change.  However, we get so much support from those who host our events in Antigua, I cannot complain and am grateful to everyone for helping to make the fleet feel welcome.

Oh yeah, Starlink has been working but is not flawless.  It sometimes takes forever to boot up and tends to drop the signal regularly.  However, having it, boogers and all, is so much better than any prior method of staying in touch.

The simple solution would be to purchase their high-performance antenna but it is twice the size of what we already have and draws more than 2x the power.  I have heard that there will soon be a new HP dish out and that it is about the same size as what we currently have.  It is worth it to me to wait and endure less than perfect connectivity for now.  Poor connectivity or not, it is AMAZING to have such technology aboard Pandora.

Sure, we are still a long way to Antigua but the wind should soon be with us and it will be great to turn off the motor and enjoy the last distance to our destination. 

So, we will continue to plod along and Antigua is still a long way off.  However, it does feel like we are on the home stretch… well almost.

Ok, another day at sea.  So what to talk about? 

Well, first, perhaps a photo of a sunrise.   “Not again Bob… Enough!  

Sorry but there is not a lot more to take photos of when all that is out there is “water, water everywhere”.

Taken from another, closer vantage.  Amazingly dramatic.

There is a modest amount of wind but it is directly behind us so nothing to do but motor.  Besides, no reason to dawdle as it is, after all, a delivery.

We had a good sail for much of yesterday and ran our big code zero sail, perfect for wind under 15kts.  Unfortunately, the sheet, which is very thin and lightweight, chafed on the main boom.  Fortunately, Peter noticed it before it gave way.  Wrestling that big sail in without a sheet would have been messy. 

As of late afternoon, the wind dropped to less than 10kts and shifted to the north.  And as Pandora is not really set up for sailing dead down wind, we cranked up the engine.   This is fine as I always count on motoring a good deal of the time when on passage.  If I were to do a transatlantic, I would have to get a pole to hold out the jib so I could run wing and wing and have better dead down wind performance.  There is just no way to carry enough fuel to make a run across the Atlantic unless you are prepared to sail on nearly every point so sail you must, even if it is S-L-O-W.

Anyway, we have been motoring since late afternoon and expect that we will continue to do so until we reach the easterly trade wins, perhaps late tomorrow, Thursday.  From then on, we should have excellent conditions for sailing as much as 600 miles with moderate winds on the beam.

As I have mentioned in prior posts, we often go for days without seeing another boat but as we passed Bermuda, we passed, or more often were passed, by others, going to or leaving from Bermuda, bound for points south.

Late yesterday evening a big sailboat that had been gaining on us for the last few hours, hailed us.  “Pandora, Pandora, this is Nijad”.

I was off watch but heard the call and answered it.  He had just called to say hi but I somehow recognized the voice on the radio and asked who it was.  It turned out to be someone I knew, Jim, who had been the manager of the Deep River Marina where I had hauled Pandora for many years.   Jim is now retired but delivers boats in his spare time.   

For those who follow this blog, you have heard me gripe about a big marina company that has been buying up yards all over.  Well, they purchased that yard in Deep River some time back and in speaking to Jim last night, I will admit that I expressed sadness that the yard where we had met was no longer the friendly place that it had been.  He was very circumspect with his answer “well, things change”.  An understatement if there ever was one.

They are on their way to the BVI, where the owner, not on board, has a mooring.   What a small world. It is unusual enough to see a boat but to see one that has someone on board that you know, very unusual.

A few hours later, around 02:00 this morning, I contacted a tanker that was going to cross our bow, too close for comfort.  As a rule, I always reach out to any boat or ship if their CPA, Closest Point of Approach, is going to be less than 1.5 miles.  I contact them, explain the situation, and ask what they would like me to do.  Inevitably, the big ships tell me to “maintain course and speed” and they will alter course and go around me.   By and large, they are all very friendly and happy to help and often express gratitude that someone is paying attention.  Perhaps I am also bringing some excitement into their day when not a lot is happening.

So, I called T Matterhorn, a 600’ tanker and asked for instructions.  The skipper, or in this case, the second officer, said that he would alter course and give us a wide berth so not to worry.

Then, uncharacteristically, he (Karan) struck up a conversation with me.  He was asking, why there were so many small boats so far out in the ocean.  I explained that we were participating in a rally from the US to Antigua.  As he made his way east he must have gone right through the main part of the fleet.   Where we were, there really was nothing within sight for us.  I expect that he sees more as his radar is likely much more powerful than mine. One way or the other, he had been seeing a lot of boats, much more than is typical.

Wait until he sees this tracking map.  Pandora, one of many, many boats out here, one of the most easterly ones in the middle. Not sure, check out the fleet tracking map and cllick on Pandora.

He then goes on to ask many questions about what we are up to.   How many boats were with us?  Where did we depart from? Where are we going?  Do we have engines?  What do we do when the weather turns bad (pray, for one) and other questions, who is on board, who owns the boats etc.  This whole topic is so foreign to him and I enjoyed sharing information with a willing listener.

He was particularly interested I where we were going and what we planned once we got there.   I did say “parties”.  I think that he likes that idea. 

I gave him my email address, the address of this blog as well as the address for the Salty Dawg website so he can learn more about what we do.

Before we went our own separate ways, I asked where he was headed. Answer: Lavera, France in the Mediterranean. Now, that’s a place I’d like to go with Pandora. Will it happen? Who knows. There’s always a tanker… 🙂

When we signed off, I wondered if he would write to me and the next time that I checked my email, perhaps an hour later, there was a note from him.  He gave me his name, Karan Bhanushali, second officer for T Matterhorn and that he enjoyed speaking with me and had many questions. 

He also said that if I ever wanted to visit India, where he lives, I was welcome to visit.  And, that he plans to be in the US next year to visit friends and would love to meet. 

Frankly, I think that would be very interesting and hope that we stay in touch.   

I am not sure where he was heading but Matt thinks he heard him say that he was on his way to France. 

Will we connect again one day?  Who knows, but the experience really struck me as quite remarkable, two boats on the high seas, with someone aboard that I know or sort of know now, in a single night hundreds of miles from anything.   

The ex-manager of a boat yard in CT where I have had work done on Pandora for a decade, and an officer on a freighter that just happened to be passing by as we make out way south.  Who would ever guess?

So, what next?

Perhaps I will get a ride on a tanker?  That would be fun. many years ago my late father said, “Bob, wouldn’t it be great to see Gibraltar from the deck of Pandora?” What the heck, how about Lavera, France in the Med, wherever that is. I might even settle for that view from the deck of a tanker. Answer: Lavera, France in the Mediterranean. Now, that’s a place I’d like to go with Pandora. Will it happen?

No idea but it is certainly something to look forward to and an example of just how much serendipity can play a role in our lives.  Right place, right time?  Time will tell.

As I write this we are passing Bermuda about 20 miles to port.  In spite of the forecast calling for very light wind, we are under sail and moving along nicely with 15kts on the beam.  Frankly, it feels more like gliding than sailing.  Pandora is making 7.5kts and is healing less than ten degrees, nearly level. 

Interestingly, when Pandora reaches 7kts she begins to hum.  Not sure why, but it is a soothing, gentle hum as she moves through the water.

Shortly after dawn, a shower passed and left behind a lovely rainbow.   You really get a feel for just how expansive the ocean is with this photo, rainbow, clouds, and a tiny spec of a sail, if you look closely, on the horizon.

A pod of dolphins visited us this morning but true to form, they resisted my attempts to get a photo. 

Close to Bermuda we saw a number of small boats out fishing as well as several sailboats as they headed for the harbor.  Other than that, it is rare to see another boat when we are on passage, hundreds of miles from land, except for an occasional ship, miles away and unseen, appearing on the AIS tracker.

After being at sea for a week, I would love, love, love to stop in Bermuda for a few days but I am loath to drag the run out to two weeks or longer.   If I did not have a schedule, and was with Brenda, for sure we would stop.   Alas, we are in a rush and it is, in the end, a delivery…

We are about 150 miles short of the half way point of the run, (a mouthful, I know) and the rest of the trip is likely to be much faster as a good part of what remains will be in the easterly trade winds.  Today is day 7 and I expect that we will be in Antigua sometime next Monday or perhaps Tuesday for a total run of 12-13 days.

That would make his run a lot like others I have made but with a lot less “excitement” given the fact that the wind has been quite light to moderate.  And, it is quite possible that the last 600 or so miles will be a lot of fun, sailing on a beam reach with reasonable winds of 15-20kts.  Perfect for Pandora.   I hope that the current conditions will continue and prove the forecast wrong.  That would be nice?

It was just two days ago, that I was estimating we would use perhaps as much as 80% of our fuel on this run.  But, after sailing much of yesterday and sailing again today, we may end up using as little as 50% of the fuel if the wind fills in just a bit.    Who, knows, not to jinx it…

The up and down mix of expectations and changed assumptions about sailing, motoring and arrival dates, is par for the course on passage.  Every time I prepare for a long run, I try to guess how long it is going to take and, more often than not, I am wrong.

This trip, with a few exceptions, has been mild with reasonable wind, when there was wind, and only a few squalls.  The biggest problem has been needing to delay our progress, to let bad weather to our south clear out.

As of this morning, we have motored less than half of the way, in spite of the very light winds. I am becoming more confident that when we hit the trade winds in a few days, our speed will pick up a lot.

This sort of variety and uncertainty with conditions is typical on passage and as we head south our miles per day will hopefully increase and the sailing better.

Overall, sailing in the ocean is often quite benign, but with “moments” I will admit, made fewer, hopefully, as long as you follow the advice of a weather router.  And, having Starlink and the availability to check email and keep up with the every changing forecast, makes it a lot better.

A typical day aboard is spent reading, sleeping, napping, eating, and doing minor chores to keep everything in good shape.

Yesterday Matt and I replaced a float switch on the main bilge pump, something that has been bugging me for some time now.   I did not have the exact same model to replace it with but was able to get the new one into position. I will order a replacement when I get home and then put it in place more permanently.  It buggs me that something called a “super switch” does not last very long, but they do not and I have replaced many of them over the years.

Cleaning is also a big thing and a good amount of time is spent on dishwashing, sweeping up the cabin and of course, cleaning the head.    With three guys living in a small space, often with bad aim in the dark… things get a bit gamy, as you can imagine.

After a few days at sea, a certain rhythm sets in and everyone knows what must be done.  Matt and Peter tend to keep an eye on things up in the cockpit, adjusting sails and keeping an eye on things. 

I tend to stay below, keeping a log of our progress in a notebook.  Every two hours I log information like our position, latitude, and longitude, along with wind strength, direction, boat speed etc.  The idea is that if something happens to our electronics we can always go back and look at my notes to determine where we are or at least, where we were recently.

To pass the time, I read for hours a day to pass the time.  So far, basically a book a day.  Before a trip I sign up for Amazon Kindle Unlimited and download a dozen books.  I also keep a supply of hardback books, just in case.   Brenda will confirm that I do not do “idle” well.

We also make a point of checking fittings on deck each morning to see if there are any signs of chafe or other issues.  For example, today I found the head of a rivet laying on the deck and after some sleuthing, I was able to track it down to a fitting on the boom that holds one of the mainsheet blocks.  The problem probably would not lead to a failure, but as a precaution, we worked up a Dynema (super strong line) sling from the block to the boom so that if something does break, the line will hold things together and avoid a catastrophic failure.

But perhaps the single thing that separates offshore sailing from coastal or day sailing is when things line up just right, and they do, for at least a while on every run, when you are able to set the sails and go…

To sail at or above hull speed, reeling off the miles for days at a time with barely an adjustment.  Those who have never been offshore can hardly imagine what it is like to point the boat and only do minor tweaks for days and hundreds of miles. 

There have been plenty of times at the Yacht Club bar when other sailors have spoken of times when they set the sails and went for hours, barely touching trim or wheel.  I too have boasted about those experiences.

Passage making has those moments too but on a very different scale.  To spend the afternoon reading a book while the boat tends to herself, make dinner, sleep for a few hours, get up to stand watch, have breakfast, lunch and still have the boat moving along and making time, day after day.  That is something…

That is passage making and there simply isn’t anything else quite like it.

Well, of course, that is setting aside the strong squalls, hours/days of endless motoring and having waves break over the deck when things are not quite so benign.

During those times, what comes to mind is more like “So, Mrs. Lincoln, other than that, what did you think of the play?”

Or, put another way, “sailing is hours of bliss punctuated with moments of sheer terror.”

For now, we are having a lovely sail and that is what I will focus on.  And, of course dinner. 

Tonight, teriyaki salmon with roasted potatoes, sauteed peppers, onions and a green salad. 

Tomorrow, who knows?  If it’s not all that benign…Perhaps soup…

After years of doing the whole “north-south” thing, I have talked ad nauseum and written plenty about the number of hours that I run the engine on the Antigua run.  On some runs, I have clocked as many as 140 hours of engine time and have often found myself worrying about running out of fuel. 

Two years ago, when one of my three built-in fuel tanks sprung a leak in Antigua, dumping a full tank, 35 gallons, into the bilge and over the side, my total fuel capacity was reduced from 135 gallons to 100, not nearly enough to make a run, if history was to be any guide.  

As I could not have a new fuel tank fabricated before I made it home, I decided to get a 50-gallon flexible fuel bladder and bring it back, following a state-side visit.  Fortunately, Pandora has three vented lockers in the cockpit and two of them are large enough to hold a bladder that is about 5’ long, not a small thing to stow.  As an added benefit, unlike plastic jugs, the bladder can be folded up when it is empty and takes up very little space in the locker.

I had to work out all the fittings for the bladder, a fill port, line for transferring fuel and a bleeder hose to get any trapped air out,  as well as to find a way to get the fuel from the bladder into the deck fittings for the three, (at that time, two usable) tanks.  This involved a long enough piece of hose to reach each deck fill as well as a high-capacity electric transfer pump.  Curious about all that?  You can see all the stuff that made up my “kit” at this link. 

With the new tank, the addition of the bladder and my usual six 5-gallon plastic jugs, I now carry 180 gallons of fuel, enough to run about 9.5 days under power.  You would think that would be more than enough fuel to get to Antigua but this year I could very possibly motor as many as 170 hours, using perhaps 140 gallons with just 40 to spare. 

Many of the over 80+ boats that are making this trip will have to divert to Bermuda just to get fuel and I am pleased to be able to pass it by. (Oh boy, I hope that I am not jinxing things by saying that) It has already been a long run and I do not want to add any more days at sea between me and Antigua.

Despite being into our 6^th day at sea, we have only made it about a third of the way south.  So, with 500 miles between us and Essex, as the crow flies, we have logged almost 650 miles through the water.  That is an additional 150 miles of bucking currents and sailing in the wrong direction 🙁 

On the bright side, slow or not, the sunrise today was lovely.  It began slowly with spot of light to the east.  It was darker than this photo suggests. Then it began to brighten.

Became brighter and brighter as the sun appeared.

A dramatic beginning to a new day.

And, better than that, sailing!

I will enjoy it while it lasts as soon enough we will be motoring again.

When we were first heading out, I thought that perhaps it would take 10-12 days but it is not looking like at least 13 days, as many days as my longest run. 

When I am talking to folks about this run, a question that inevitably comes up is “how long does it take to get to Antigua?”  My answer is generally “well, that’s sort of like asking, how much does a car cost?”  It depends, but I will say that the southbound run takes anywhere from 10 to 13 days and this year will not be a big difference. 

It is generally a mix of great days and slow days but we get there eventually.

One way or the other, It is going to be a long trip.  And, speaking of S-L-O-W, I log our position and many other stats every two hours on passage, and when we were jogging along with adverse currents and the need to wait for better conditions for more than a day and a half, we logged 144 miles under the keel and managed to gain mere 60 miles south in the direction we wanted to go, about 40 miles a day. A pathetic showing. 

Not great given the fact that when conditions are good, we can make about 250 or more miles in the same timeframe.

Anyway, we are now sailing toward our destination, and have been for hours now, but by tomorrow, early Tuesday morning, I expect that we will again be motoring, and that could continue for as many as 3-4 days based on the current forecast of very light winds to the south of us.

The good news is that the weather models suggest that the last 500-600 miles of the trip will be great sailing so fingers crossed that it holds.

I am not particularly concerned about running out of fuel, well, not yet anyway, but to be estimating that we will use more fuel on this run than any other to date is a bit sobering.  I guess that my little “guardian angel” is still with me and perhaps that is why she decided to make that tank leak two years ago so I would have to purchase a fuel bladder. 

If it were not for her, I would surely be making a stop in Bermuda for fuel and then guarantee that the run would extend to at least a full two weeks.  All I would be able to say to that would be ugh, no make that double-ugh.

So, as we continue to move along under sail, it is clear that we will be doing plenty of motoring before we get to the trade winds and ultimately to Antigua.

With that in mind, the “thought of the day” and for days to come will be conserve fuel!

Yes, repeat after me “conserve fuel”, and I will.