It’s been a few days since I arrived back in Essex and it’s been a bit of a whirlwind.

I arrived home on Monday afternoon after 11 days at sea, my longest northbound run to date.

And, less than 24 hours later I was on a train to MD to visit our grandchildren and back again.

The run from St Thomas was something…

We had every imaginable weather condition from flat calm, 75 hours of motoring, gales with gusts to 50kts in the Gulf Stream and sailing west and east, nearly to Bermuda while waiting for things to clear up north of us.

And to cap it off, after 1,750 miles, the shaft coupling for the prop came loose about a mile from Essex, our destination and we had to be towed to our mooring.

Even our departure was a challenge.  As you might recall, we were delayed in St Thomas with a leak in the engine circulating pump and then headed north but after an additional day in the marina we were underway.

As the days unfolded we caught up with the rest of the fleet that had left a day before us.  However, as we approached the latitude of Bermuda, conditions were still nasty to the north so we had to delay, first sailing west toward the US east coast and then backtracking east toward Bermuda while waiting for conditions to improve.

After a frustrating delay we finally turned north, directly for the Gulf Stream and CT.  We knew that conditions were going to be sporty but the wind ended up much stronger and as we crossed the Gulf Stream, we encountered sustained winds in the 40s with gusts to 50.

With the wind blowing from the south, perpendicular to the current in the GS, things were plenty rough.  And, to make matters worse, as the wind was directly behind us, we were unable to set ourselves up for a reasonable crossing and ended up stuck in the GS for a lot longer than expected, pointing more toward Nova Scotia than Montauk.

For hours we were pointing to far to the east, spending more time in the Stream than we were expecting.  We wanted to jibe but that wasn’t practical as that would put us nearly directly into the eastbound current, which would have slowed us even more. It’s impossible to get a shot of a wave that does justice to what we were encountering.  Every once in a while, a wave would hit the stern windward quarter and slew us around so we had to be constantly cautious not to end up in a violent jibe. As we made our way across the GS, we decided that we had to jibe at about 02:00 to keep from going to far to the east before exiting the current.   We must have spent about 15 minutes setting up the preventer and getting ready to switch tacks.  It was uneventful but plenty unnerving with more than 40kts on the stern.

With all that wind we spent hours going at double digit speeds and more than once were going upwards of 14kts through the water.    Earlier in the run we had also encountered winds topping 40kts and had been reduced to a third reef and a nearly fully furled jib.

For hours our speed was quite high and as we entered the Stream it was amazing to see how quickly the water temperature went up to the mid 80s and then just as quickly dropped into the low 60s after exiting the GS.  These transitions were very rapid, with a swing of more than ten degrees within about an hour.   It’s hard to believe how much hot water moves north with the Stream.  

I can only imagine what would happen to the climate if this enormous “conveyor belt” of heat were disrupted. An uncontrolled jibe in those conditions could have taken out the boom or worse. 

While the rough stuff was the most memorable, we had plenty of beautiful calm sailing and motoring.   More like a lake than ocean.

Every day I did a “walk around” to be sure that everything was ok.  One morning I found a nut on the boom gooseneck had backed off quite a bit.   I don’t even want to think about what would have happened if the nut had fallen off and the bolt backed out, allowing the boom to separate from the mast.  That would have wrecked our day, that’s for sure. We saw some amazing sunsets, including a “green flash” that was the most amazing that I’ve seen.  The sun set below the horizon and then there was a very bright green flash that was more like a flashbulb than a sunset.

We had wonderful sunrises.  I always do the last watch from 03:00 to 07:00 and the mornings did not disappoint. Nor did the sunsets.  Or, was this another sunrise?  Hard to say but beautiful, never the less. Our last sunrise at sea as we rounded the eastern tip of Long Island, Montauk.And the historic Montauk light. I always look forward to the run up Long Island Sound to the CT River and hope for a fair wind and favorable tide.  Wishing for a gentle sail to cap on the last leg to finish up a long passage is much like me wishing for a white Christmas when I was young.

However, this year, it didn’t disappoint. Finally, as we entered our 11th day at sea, the Saybrook Light marking the entrance into the CT River.We continued up the river, dropped the sails and contacted the Old Lyme Drawbridge.  George, who was at the helm, put the engine in neutral.

Finally, the bridge operator told us that he was going to open so we should come up closer.  George put the boat in gear and n-o-t-h-i-n-g happened.  The prop shaft had come out of the coupling and no amount of messing around could fix it.

After decades of being a member of Boat US towing, and never a tow.   Who’d have guessed that after sailing over 1,700 miles we’d have a breakdown within a  mile of our destination. As the tow began to build speed, the prop spun wildly and fully separated from the coupling, threating to back out entirely with nothing to hold it from dropping out to the bottom but the shaft zincs.  I had to secure it with an abrasive pad and Vicegrip pliers. After that, a side tow the rest of the way and a lot slower. Finally, on the mooring and a hearty thankyou to our rescuer.We made it.  A happy crew all around.  Every year I seriously think about leaving Pandora in Trinidad and never do.  And, about half way home I begin to really question my decision and this year was no different.

Having said that, the run this year was challenging, took way too long and was, at times, painful.   We had EVERYTHING, plus, plus.   Flat calms, gales, big waves and even mechanical issues.  Fortunately, we are home now and all that’s behind us.

And now that Pandora is back in CT and we can look forward to a summer of time on the water, I am glad that I made the decision to come north.

Now, I can turn my sights to getting Pandora ready for the run south next fall.  It will be here sooner than you think.

Better get going as the gardens won’t plant themselves.

No rest for the weary cruiser.

Yesterday when I did my last post, our plan was to continue north and take our lumps in the building NE/E winds.  However, yesterday afternoon I received a note from Chris Parker in response to a question from me that was in essence, “there has to be a better way”.

He suggested that we head east for about 24 to 36 hours and wait for the strong winds to shift from NE to a more easterly direction, a better angle for us.  Head farther west than we had planned and then turn north toward the Gulf Stream, behind the front where the winds would be less.

Additionally, he suggested we head due east toward Bermuda, staying south of the front, so that when we finally turned to the west and entered the strong easterlies we would have a better angle, with the wind aft of the beam.

What a simple and great idea?  Why didn’t I think of that?  We immediately headed east.  Unfortunately, the wind totally died overnight so the boat rolled and slatted in an alarming way.

But, rolling or not, I took time to admire the stars.  The Milky Way was clearer than I have ever seen it.

And night gave way to dawn bringing lovely shades of purple and red.Up came the sun. It’s 10:00 on Thursday morning and we have turned north toward home again.

As we approach the front we have a very light SW wind.  You can clearly see the dark line of the front out in the distance.  All of a sudden the wind did an abrupt 180-degree shift, in literally a few minutes, a shift that was faster than I have ever experienced. I’d love to share the weather routing information that we prepared based on Chris’s recommendations but can’t find a way to download the images from my iPad.  I guess I will have to show it later.

For now, light wind from the NE but in a few hours, as we cross the front, it will quickly build to 25kts+.

If things work out as Chris is forecasting, this won’t be a bad ride after all.  Fingers crossed.

While I don’t want to count my chickens before they hatch.  After a decade of working with Chris, once again, he came through.

I do so hate bashing to weather.  Perhaps this won’t be so bad after all.

Fingers crossed.

Thanks Chris.

 

 

 

 

 

It is Wednesday morning and we are motoring along in calm conditions.   There is not a lot to look at except the (very) occasional ship or yacht that crosses our path, heading to Europe.  I suppose that should not be a surprise as we are indeed, in the middle of nowhere, about 200 miles west of Bermuda and almost 600 miles from home.  The good news is that we are over 800 miles from our starting point in St Thomas.

It feels good to be on the second half of the run. However, it will clearly be the most challenging with some salty conditions up ahead.

Even though there is not a lot to look at except flying fish skipping from wave to wave, and phosphoresce off the stern at night, we are seeing many Portuguese Man-O-War jellyfish floating by.

They look so delicate with their “sail” moving them along in the breeze.  It is hard to see in this photo but they are quite colorful with a bit of red on one end and translucent bits of blue on the sail.

As pretty as they are, don’t be fooled, as to touch one of the tentacles that trail along upwards of 10’ below, pack quite a punch.Brenda and I have seen many of these as we sailed along the US east coast, particularly off Florida when we were spending our winters in the Bahamas.  There was a time when we were in Boca Raton and several were blown thru the inlet and into the harbor.   Brenda was inspired to do a tapestry that she titled “blown off course”.I think that this piece is one of her best and others seem to agree as she has received several awards at shows and the piece was featured in a national fiber arts magazine last year.   It is worth noting that the “braids” affixed to the borders are a Japanese technique that she does.  These intricate silk braids are hard to do but she has had a lot of practice.

And speaking of Japanese fiber techniques, Brenda is still in Japan, having just finished up on a “fiber tour” of the country.  She is staying in Tokyo for a few more days with a good friend before flying back to NY later this week. I am very much looking forward to seeing her again and learning more about all the great places that she visited.

So, back to what lies ahead and title of this post.

Since the beginning of this run a week ago, we have been watching the weather north of Bermuda with the hope that the constant parade of low-pressure systems that have been moving off the Coast will moderate.

To some degree, they have but we will be sailing into some sporty conditions beginning sometime tomorrow afternoon.  From there north to where we cross the Gulf Stream, several hundred miles, will be a bit challenging with wind sometimes gusting to 30+kts.  The good news is that the wind is not likely to be quite as bad as we feared based on earlier forecasts but whatever we face will last for about 24 hours longer.

The angle of the wind should be on the beam so it should be manageable.

After that we cross the Gulf Stream which should be reasonable.  We expect to run into strong winds north of the Stream but they will be behind us, which is better.

Given the amount of motoring we have done, we switched fuel tanks yesterday and shortly after that, the engine began to slow down and stall.  I know that the tank is full but there must be some crud clogging the pickup tube.  Just to be sure, I replaced filters on the engine and switched to the third tank.  Everything seems to be OK for now.  Just in case we motor more than expected we took time to dump about 15 gallons from jugs into the nearly empty tank.  In light conditions like we have now, it’s easy but if it’s rough not practical to siphon fuel without the risk of getting water into the tank.

However, I do not want to run out of fuel, as unlikely as that may be so better safe than sorry.

So, for now, we are sailing along in light conditions and I am hoping that “the blow” will not be quite as bad as it was looking a few days ago.

I guess all I can say is details to come.

Not sure I will be putting up anything when it is “sporty” but time will tell.  Not to worry, we will still be posting our position every two hours on the tracker.

For sure we will be moving along well for most of the rest of the trip.   If conditions are no worse than forecast, it should be manageable.

Perhaps we will be home on Sunday.

Wish us luck, please…

We have been at sea for 5 days, entering our 6^th and are half way between St Thomas and CT, about 200 miles SW of Bermuda and 700 miles from Montauk, the eastern most point of Long Island where we will enter Long Island Sound and head home.

Winds continue to be light and we have motored for 40 hours.  That is not a lot of engine time compared to our trips south over the years when a total of between 100 and 150 hours is typical.   However, the run north is generally better for sailing as it takes advantage of the easterly trade winds for the first half and the prevailing SW winds off of the US east coast, for the second.   However, this spring has seen particularly active cold fronts rolling off the US east coast so the trade winds have been suppressed.

Another contributor to the low hours is that I am trying to time my arrival at the south side (entry point) of the Gulf Stream to avoid the strongest of the winds that will accompany a particularly strong front that is expected to exit the NE Coast later in the week.   Being in the GS with a strong NE wind is just not a good idea.

The strongest of these NE winds will have gusts into the low 30s, which is pretty sporty.   Generally, anything over mid 20s is annoying and just too much like work to be fun.

The timing of what could technically be a gale, or a Nor’easter, is a bit uncertain so I am taking a conservative view of things, trying to move along a bit slower and let the worst of it clear out before we get there.  These fast-moving lows are quite difficult to forecast and the actual timing isn’t generally clear until just a day or so before they arrive.

Our best guess is to plan on arriving at the south wall of the Stream (and the edge of the GS is quite abrupt and you can actually see a change in the water color, temperature and wave configuration, hence: wall) around mid-day on Friday.   With that in mind, our plan is to adjust our speed to an average of 6.5kts do we arrive at the right time.

It’s a bit difficult to accurately titrate our speed for the next 500 miles to the GS as the wind will vary anywhere from less than 10kts to near 30kts, a huge swing.  When the wind is strong, we will be going upwards of 8-9kts but less than 6 when we are motoring.  How to manage to get the average to come out at 6kts, assuming that the front moves at the planned speed, is tricky.

So, for now, a lovely sail.  It’s quite calm with a beam wind of only about 10kts. Mike relaxing, keeping an eye on things.  However, we have not seen much for days beyond an occasional ship or two.One way or the other, we will sort it out and just deal with whatever comes our way.  For now, easy sailing.

Beyond that, the crew of Pandora has settled into life at sea and one day just rolls into the next.  The middle of a run like this is the most pleasant as we are not close enough to our destination to ask “are we there yet?” or far enough away to think “OMG, we have not even covered 10% of the run.  I hate this!”

Our days now are pretty much taken up by keeping watch, sleeping, eating, and thinking about the coming weather.

Down below, everything is stowed and set up to be comfortable and yet protect the cushions from salt and excess wear.  Note the canvas covers on everything to keep things clean.George is using the aft cabin, Mike to port (left) and me on the right.  The center of the boat, the main cabin, has the least motion.

As to “when are we going to get there?”, it’s a bit too soon to think about that (even if I am) as we still have nearly half of the trip in front of us.   However, with the coming winds, what lies ahead will surely be faster than the first half.

So, when will we get there?  I expect that Sunday is a good guess but we will just have to see.

One thing that is certain is that we are in fact half of the way there.

It’s Monday morning and we have been motoring for over 24 hours.  After all the problems with the engine cooling system, I am so pleased that we were able to find someone in St Thomas to replace the leaky gaskets and confirm that the water pump is in good shape.

Having watched the tech remove and replace the pump makes me realize just how difficult it would have been to do at sea.  I generally worry about breakage when I am offshore, hundreds of miles from anything and the idea of making the repair while underway is too much for me to even think about.

I knew that this was going to be a slow trip with lots of motoring but had hoped that by the time we left the forecast was going to be for more wind.   However, with all the strong fronts that have been rolling off the US East Coast, the trade winds to the south have been suppressed so motoring it is.

As I write this post we fully expect to have another 24-36 hours before winds from the NE begin to fill in.  And FILL IN they will with steady winds in the 20s and gusts to near 30 are expected.  And, to ensure that things will be plenty sporty, the wind will be forward of the beam so we will be pounding into seas.

The big issue for us is what conditions will be like when we reach the Gulf Stream, currently about 650 miles from us.  And given our estimated speed, I expect that we will reach the Stream some time on Friday.

Timing our entrance into the Stream is critical as when there are strong winds from the NE or E conditions will be quite nasty and dangerous.

Chris Parker, our weather router, says that the forecast five days out is still quite uncertain so it’s hard to say when conditions will begin to settle down and make it reasonable to cross the GS but he is currently estimating that we will have reasonable conditions by sometime on Friday.

For now, it’s fingers crossed.  For now, we will continue to motor along.

I guess I will close with some shots of today’s sunrise.  As I have mentioned, my favorite time of day is dawn and to be on watch as the eastern horizon begins to glow is a magical time.

It began with a blue/purple glow in the east.Getting brighter and brighter as the sun began to peek from behind the low clouds showing off the lacey clouds above. The sun, nearly above the horizon, a testament to the majesty of nature.  A beautiful day has dawned. Well, to be clear, it’s a beautiful day with no wind.

So glad that Pandora has an engine.  I want to add “that works” but don’t want to Jinx it.

So far, so good.  Fingers crossed and it’s a good thing that I am a member of the “cup is half full” club.

Now I can worry about the Gulf Stream…