Yes, that’s still a long way but now that we have finally reached the consistent trade winds, the sailing is so much easier and what a treat to sail for hour after hour, and day after day, and know that the wind will stay just about the same, somewhere between 13 and 19 or so knots, on a close reach with wind comfortably forward of the beam.   And, with 1,000 miles under our keel, it’s really the first time on this trip when we could count on the wind being consistent and from a decent angle for more than a half day or so.

It’s remarkable how moods change when we are pointing toward our destination and moving along smartly in consistent winds.   Having said that, it seems that the guys have been in pretty good spirits in spite of the relentless need to head east, wind on the nose or not.

Up until now I had trouble remembering why I do these trips but if life could always be a beam reach, it would be hard for me to get enough of this kind of sailing.  I expect that most of the sailors that I know up in New England don’t get as much sailing with the wind on their beam in an entire season than we will enjoy over the next few days.  Somehow I am now way more relaxed knowing that I will probably not need to adjust the sails or our course more than a “smidge” at any point for the next 500 miles.

It’s pretty clear that Pandora likes it too as she “hums her tune” galloping over the waves.

And, speaking of “galloping”, I made the mistake of leaving the coffee pot, full of dry grounds, unsecured for a moment, or at least a moment too long, this morning and it gleefully leapt onto the floor, spraying dried grounds everywhere in an instant.    It took me forever to clean up the mess.  As it was about 05:00 and the guys were both asleep, I didn’t have the heart to break out the vacuum cleaner, so a damp sponge had to do the job.  Yuck.  Don’t worry Brenda, I didn’t use the kitchen sponge.  After 46 years of hanging around you, I am nearly housebroken.    Well, sort of housebroken, at least when it comes to cleaning up coffee grounds aboard Pandora.   Ok, at least this morning and I admit that I still have a long way to go to be properly “restrained”.    :

So, here we are FINALLY moving in the direction that we want to go and it feels terrific.   On the one hand, we are still 500 miles from Antigua and that’s likely to take us somewhere around three days to cover the distance, suggesting that we will arrive in Falmouth sometime on Sunday.

I plan on going into a marina for a few days to get Pandora cleaned up and back into cruising mode.  With Brenda arriving on Wednesday I’ll have to decide if I am going to move out to the anchorage before she arrives.  I guess I’ll have to ask her what she’d prefer.

Yes indeed, it’s sure a lot more pleasant to be actually pointing where I want to go with consistent and, more importantly, “predicable” trade winds that we can count on make the remaining 500 miles seem more like a “day sail” than major ocean passage.  What, no changing waypoints Chris?

Oh yeah, one more thing.  It’s nearly 500 miles in every direction to land.   Nope, nobody around, just us and the flying fish.

Yes, it’s nice to be sailing, the easy way.   I can practically see Antigua in the distance.  Not… But it feels like I just might.

Heck, we’re nearly there with only 480 miles to go…

It’s the beginning of our 7th day at sea.  Perhaps it’s just me but it seems that going south is a lot more complex than heading north.  In the spring you sort of point the boat north and can generally hold a fairly direct course most of the way.  I guess that makes sense as the prevailing winds are from the east offshore and from the SW onshore which is about right for the run north.

So, what about fall?  With the cold fronts coming off of the coast in the fall and winter months, you’d expect that the northerlies would help us along heading south.  However, that’s not the case because those northerlies are driven by a succession of lows that roll off of the east coast, one after another.

Of course, between those lows the winds go all over the place so heading south becomes a cat and mouse game with shifting winds.   I am beginning to see why many folks opt to keep their boats in Trinidad or Grenada and avoid the 1500 mile slog each spring and fall.   Think I have had enough?  Actually, I really enjoy the trip when we are sailing but day after day of motoring and hoping that we can pick up a little bit more wind to sail, can get somewhat wearing.   (As I finish up this post, we are sailing again, for the moment at least)

Twice each day I listen to Chris Parker, in the morning and evening, to see what the latest “new”, “flavor of the day”, waypoint will be.   What is today’s best guess as to where we will finally reach the trade winds and be able to turn south toward Antigua?  As I write this we are, as the crow flies, and Pandora isn’t flying right now,  about 600 miles from Antigua.  However, we still have to continue to head to the SE, not directly to Antigua, to get enough easting to catch favorable winds for the rest of the run.  Well, that’s at least what Chris said this morning…

Unfortunately, we are currently to the north of a ridge that is suppressing the wind to 10kts or less in our area.   As Pandora needs about 12kts to sail comfortably on a close reach, the winds just aren’t strong or consistent enough to sail.  While I might be able to sail easily in light winds in say, the protected waters of Long Island Sound, in the more choppy conditions of the ocean, it takes a few knots more wind to keep our speed up.
Generally, it’s pretty comfortable moving along right now but I’d feel a lot better if the engine weren’t on most of the time.  We have plenty of fuel, I think, to make the run assuming that my consumption per hour assumptions are right and that the remaining two tanks have at least 40 gallons, each, of usable fuel.  The builder’s specs call for three tanks of 50 gallons each for a total of 150 gallons.  However, we have used up the first tank and based on historical usage per hour, I estimate that the useable fuel in that tank was about 40 gallons, not 50.   If that is correct and the other tanks are similar, then I have ten gallons less per tank than I thought and that translates to something like 40 to 45 hours less fuel under power, nearly two days.

However, in spite of all that, I calculated this morning that I should have somewhere around 5.5 days more motoring with the fuel that I have left.   So, with perhaps 650 miles to go and an assumed average speed of 6.5kts,  I would need a maximum of four days of motoring if I were to use the engine 100% of the time, which isn’t likely to happen.

Well, I say “not likely” with the belief that the rest of the trip will be better than the first half and I remain hopeful, that once we hit the trades we will be able to turn off the engine and once again enjoy the sounds of the wind and water rushing past Pandora as we close in on Antigua.  Ever hopeful you say?  Yes, that’s me and the dog, ever hopeful?  Can I have a cookie?

Actually, I’d like some of the banana, squash, raisin bread that just came out of the oven and that’s way better than a cookie.   As good as it smells, and it does smell great, I’d trade it for favorable winds in a minute.

Yes, I’m plenty hopeful but the wind, such as it is, is what it is, so I’ll just eat that banana, yellow squash, raisin bread and take what the sea tosses our way.
And later I’ll call Chris Parker and see if he can tell me, for sure and exactly where some favorable winds are anyway.

Oh yeah, about that banana, yellow squash, raisin bread, it was awesome and I didn’t even use a recipe or mix.  Besides, who would combine that weird mix if they weren’t on a boat and didn’t have to anyway?

It’s Tuesday morning and we are at, well at a point that’s about as far from land as we will get for the entire trip.   We have traveled more than 750 miles since leaving Hampton and are 250 miles from Bermuda and 500 or more from just about everywhere tera-firma. (did I spell that right?).   For those with a map and care about such things, our coordinates are 28.28N and 66.47W.

I am happy to say that after more than a day, several days actually, of winds, better described as zephyrs, in the single digits, we are now sailing along in winds of about 10-13kts on a close reach, doing 7-8kts through the water.  Oddly, we have been bucking a 1kt adverse current for several days now so our progress isn’t as good as the speedo suggests.

It’s funny how complete one’s focus becomes on the wind speed and direction and with every increase of a few knots of wind, hope that perhaps it will hold and signal that we are approaching the area where the easterly trade winds will begin to strengthen.  While we are still over 100 miles from the coordinates, 27N and 65W where Chris Parker suggests that stronger trades will set in, we are hopeful that a lighter and faster boat like Pandora will continue to find wind strong enough to continue sailing.

As  Pandora’s speed approaches 7kts, she begins to emit a gentle hum, a sure sign that she’s come alive and is happy to be moving again.
After hours and days of motoring, it’s wonderful to hear nothing but the gentle hum of Pandora moving through the water and the sound of the ocean whooshing along the hull.  As an added benefit, she is able to attain a good turn of speed  at 10 degrees or less of heel.   With some luck, our wind will hold and allow us to sail much of the remaining distance to the “Chris Parker, OFFICIAL, well at least for today, the official area where we will be solidly under the influence of the trades.   One can always hope…

After a constant parade of ships for the first few days after we departed Hampton, we have only seen one or two show up on the AIS tracker for several days now and only one small boat, another member of the Salty Dawg Rally fleet, within the VHF hailing distance of about 15 miles, the normal limit of a VHF signal.

I’m tempted to say that it’s weird to look out to the horizon and see absolutely nothing, day after day.  However, on every one of my offshore runs, after getting more than a hundred or so miles from shore, this is normal.   So, here we are in the deep blue sea,  hour after hour, day after day, and all that passes by Pandora is indigo ocean waters and puffy white clouds marching their way across the sky.

With the full moon a few days ago, the nighttime sky has been brilliantly bright, casting sharp shadows on the boat and beaming into the portholes, tricking you into believing that someone is shining a flashlight as you try to sleep.

All and all, the moon and stars have made for night watches that pass easily.  Oh yeah, and the new cockpit enclosure has been terrific, keeping out the nighttime dew and salt.   With all the motoring we have also been liberal with the use of the watermaker and I have to tell you that a warm nighttime shower in the cockpit, while not quite as wonderful as a teenage skinny dip, it’s pretty close.

I have to admit that all of this does seem even better as we now know that we are likely to sail much of the way on the second half of the trip, pushed along by the more predicable trades than the fickle winds nearer to shore that have caused so much frustration for the first half of our trip.

Oh yeah, one more thing.  Just before I left I activated Sirius radio so while I do my chores each day and prepare meals aboard Pandora I have been listening to BBC World Radio.  How civilized.  Yes, indeed.

Today I spoke to Brenda again, compliments of Glenn on KPK radio.  Now, that was a treat…

Perhaps again tomorrow. .. Yes, that would be nice.

Yes, we are pretty far from just about everything but I can still (sort of) talk to Brenda.  “static, crackle, pop… Good morning Brenda…  static, crackle, pop…..Over…?

And, while it was hard to hear exactly what she was saying, it made me feel, even though I am so far from everything, just a little closer to her.

Ok,I’ll admit that I am blushing as I proof this but it’s how I feel. So there…

In keeping with the “little thing” theme of yesterday’s post, we had a “little thing” fail last night aboard Pandora.

In this case, it was the fitting that holds the luff tack cringle of the mainsail to the goose neck on the bow end of the boom.   This fitting was a loop with a pin that went through the bottom front “corner” of the mainsail luff.  In spite of the fact that this fitting was, and I say “was” deliberately, designed to take the load of the luff for the entire mainsail, it broke off.  The boom outhaul, with as much as 2,000 lbs of pressure on it as well as the head of the sail both pull against this fitting with great tension.  It’s a very critical fitting.

About 00:00 hours (midnight), Jim came down below to wake me as the fitting had failed.

Fortunately, it was very light wind and we were motoring, more or less, directly into the wind.   When this fitting failed, the bottom of the sail became slack and suddenly much of the tension of the rest of the mainsail was focused on the first sail slide about 4′ up the luff of the sail. This slide and that part of the sail are not designed to take any major loads so had we been sailing in a strong breeze, I expect that the sail would have ripped its’ entire length beginning at that point.

Fortunately, due to Jim’s attention and quick action, a major failure was averted.    With nearly 1,000 miles to go until we reach Antigua, losing the main would have ruined our day and many more after, that’s for sure.

While we expect to reach an area where we can sail in a few days, for now we are motoring and that would have put us at risk of running out of fuel before reaching Antigua without a working mainsail to move us along.

So, what was the solution?  Fortunately, I keep a good supply of Dyneema line for just this sort of problem and was able to put together a bridle to hold the tack of the sail to the boom and mast.  This line is super strong.   I doubled each piece with several wraps through the mainsail cringle, just in case the line chafes.  However, Dyneema is really tough stuff and quite chafe resistant, so I doubt that we will have any major chafe issues.

I guess it took about an hour for me and Jim, with Chris at the wheel, just in case, to get everything tied securely into place.  Thanks to Jim for his quick action as it likely saved the main.

So, today we are motorsailing ESE, close hauled, with the expectation that the wind will shift north of east at some point in the next day or so.  While it is expected to remain light, around 10-12kts, we may be able to sail with the big Code O headsail once the wind shifts north, as its’ forecast to do.  Eventually, perhaps late Tuesday or Wednesday we should find the easterly trade winds and then be able to sail the rest of the way to Antigua.

I still expect t to arrive in Antigua around the 12th, perhaps one of the first boats in the fleet to do so.   With Brenda flying in on the 15th, that will give me time to see Jim and Chris off and get Pandora into cruising mode.  Of course, that also will involve getting that broken tack fitting repaired.   More to come on that, with photos, when I get to Antigua.

Fortunately, so far, this has been the only, potentially major, failure.   In the “minor failure” category, my masthead tricolor running light stopped working so now I only have the deck level running lights which I usually reserve for when I am running under power.   No biggie but I’ll want to get that fixed as well.  It’s probably corrosion in the fixture at the top of the mast as it’s an LED bulb and those rarely fail.

In the “I don’t want to run out of fuel” department, I made a decision to continue on my middle fuel tank until it ran dry and the engine stopped to confirm exactly how much usable fuel it contained.   Well, this morning, after 61 hours of running time, the engine abruptly died.  At an assumed average consumption of about .65/hr fuel burn at low RPM, this suggests that I actually have 40 usable gallons in what is reported to be a 50 gallon tank.  That’s few gallons less than I had expected and it will be interesting to see how much fuel that tank takes when I fill up in Antigua.  Based on that I will be better able to estimate my maximum run time going forward.  That will be good to know when I am calculating fuel consumption for especially long periods of motoring, like on this trip.

So, here we are, motoring along in very light winds with the hope that the wind will fill in a bit and back more to the NE so we can sail sooner rather than later.

I guess that’s all for now and in the meantime, let’s hope that nothing else “little” comes up and if it does, I sure hope that it, like last nights’ breakage indeed stays a “little something”.

Oh yeah, I sautéed the last of the Mahi Mahi for dinner last evening along with some yellow squash.  Both were great and flavored with Old Bay seasoning, the fish got rave reviews from Pandora’s entire crew.

Perhaps it’s time to fish again.  Hmm…

It’s Sunday morning and we are sailing along about 500nm and a third of the way to Antigua.   As a point of reference, we are at the same latitude as Jacksonville FL and 500 miles off shore.

Not to put too fine a point on it, but that’s too far for a chopper to get to us.  However, as conditions are expected to be very calm, it’s not likely that we will need their help. Having said that, I probably shouldn’t even bring it up as I don’t want to jinx our luck.

We are currently sailing and have been for the last few hours after motorsailing for much of the overnight hours .    I will say that we have been sailing a lot more than Chris Parker suggested would be the case, so we are pretty happy about that.

Yesterday proved to be a bit challenging, in spite of sailing a good deal, because we were hit by squall after squall for much of the day.  These squalls are not nearly as strong as those we see in New England where the thunderheads can reach up into the atmosphere for 15,000 feet and bring with them gusty winds in excess of 50kts.

In the tropics squalls bring some rain but rarely more than 15-20kts of additional wind.  In spite of the being relatively mild, it was a tiring day as we were constantly having to adjust the sails as each squall came over us and caused the wind direction to change dramatically, often going away completely before returning from a yet another direction.

Adding complexity to the day, we also decided to trail a line and managed to catch a Mahi Mahi, in the 7lb range, a nice fish.  I say “complexity” as we caught it just as a squall hit once again, so after we brought it aboard, I had the fun of “bleeding” it and then taking off the filets while being buffeted by wind and rain.  It took quite a while to finish the job, all the while trying not to cut myself as the boat made it’s way through the waves, confused buy the constant changing wind direction.

I have to say that by the time I finished cleaning the fish, tossing the “refuse” overboard and rinsing off the deck, I wasn’t in the mood to eat it at all.  However, a few hours later I baked one of the filets seasoned with Old Bay seasoning and made fish sandwiches.  It was quite good.  Tonight, perhaps  baked fish again but served in a soft or hard taco.

Here I am, with Jim peeking into the frame with our “catch”.

So, back to the title of this post.  “Sometimes, it’s the little things…”

Anyone who keeps up with my blog knows that I am inclined pretty much spill my guts (fishing pun not intended) and write things that would make me blush if I thought that someone actually was reading it.

It’s also no secret that the thing that I hate the most about being at sea is that I am away from Brenda, sometimes for weeks as I move Pandora south and north again each season.  And, now that we are spending our winters in the eastern Caribbean, those times away are longer than ever.

While it’s tough to be away, the part that I hate the most is not to be able to talk to her for a week or more.  Yes, I know that’s sappy and sounds a lot like that annoying stuff that people post on Facebook for their anniversary.   However, that’s how I feel, so there.

Well, today, 500 miles from shore I was able to talk to Brenda briefly compliments of Glen , a HAM, call sign KPK, that’s Kilo Pappa, Kilo, out of Florida.  Glen maintains the SSCA Safety and Security Net and is on the air at 08:15 each day on SSB 8.104, USB.  I have known that Glen is willing to do a phone patch for a while, but didn’t have the nerve to try it.  Well, I have gotten to know Glen through my work with SSCA so today I decided to give it a try.

It worked like this… I called Glen and gave him Brenda’s cell number, he dials the number on his phone and then patches the call through the radio.  As both Brenda and I are used to using the radio, we are fairly comfortable with speaking and when we are done using the phrase “over” to let the other party know that it’s their time to talk.

However, knowing that any radio call isn’t private and can be heard by anyone on that frequency, does make it a bit awkward.  Never the less, as I contacted Glen this morning to see if he’d do a patch, I have to say that it was a bit, well, more than a bit, emotional for me when he said “sure”.   Of course, when he placed the call, wouldn’t you know it, he got her voice mail. However, she called him right back and as I was standing by “ever hopeful”, I was able to speak with her.

While our call was, more or less, “so, how’s the weather” , it was a very special moment for both of us.

After hanging around Brenda for over 45 years, I still miss her desperately when I am away.   Ok, ok, call me a “Facebook sort of sap” but that’s how I feel.

Sure, making passage and being offshore in a small boat is a big deal, however, something as simple as hearing Brenda’s voice today was a very big deal.   Yes indeed, it’s the small things that matter and, sometimes it’s those little things that are the biggest of all.

And, as Rosanne Rosanadanna used to say, with a finespray of spittle coming from her mouth, “and that’s the truth”.

Perhaps I’ll just leave it at that for now as it’s almost time to make lunch.  Besides, while lunch is one of those little things, when you are hundreds of miles from shore, your next meal looms large.

However, as I learned today, not nearly as important as speaking, if only for a few minutes, to Brenda.