Adelante! (Onward!)11/10:
Among the interesting boats in the harbor was a two-man 20' row boat that had dropped out of a Tenerife to Barbados race when one rower lost his resolve, and his dogged partner continuing alone scalded his hand cooking, and had to be rescued. We merely have to set sails to get home! We almost left La Gomera the 8th after topping our fuel, but the small boat beside John and Ingrid aboard "Beyond" got into a slip making room for us alongside her. Beyond is the third boat they have designed, built, and cruised aboard. Ingrid laid up the fiberglass on all 65'. She has a 10" fry pan at the ready should John even suggest a 4th construction project! While we enjoyed hosting a rum punch party that night, Sunsets strained at her lines all night in the harbor surge, and we departed early on the 9th. After motor sailing half the day, we romped into port under reefed main and jib after hitting the wind acceleration zone. We tied up to the seawall in Puerto de Hierro (now de la Estaca), the only visiting yacht. This is a "get-away-from-it-all" island for backpackers and divers, green down to the shoreline with a fish preserve on the southern tip. Sunsets was still restive (bad harbor surge), and we pulled out at dawn without going ashore, and motored 10 miles south to Puerto de la Restinga (quainter but even worse surge) determined to spend our last pesetas. The marina was hosting a car rally Saturday which we watched getting started from our quayside restaurant, but by 1:00 Sunsets was impatient to be underway in earnest. We raised the reefed main in the mouth of the harbor dodging divers in the water and those returning in inflatables, and set the whisker pole on the staysail to hold us wing-'n-wing as we embarked at 1 pm on the first "leg", 750 miles to a point NW of the Cape Verde Isles, of our 2582 mile passage to Tobago. We have 2 poles, 15' and 21', that run from the mast at the height of the boom to the life lines on either side of the bow pulpit in readiness for attachment to the clew (free corner) of our forward sails. Poles hold sails out preventing them from collapsing if the boat rolls from side to side. But rolly seas present a challenge in rigging unwieldy poles lashed to the deck, hence, Jim's scheme of permanently fitting them to the mast. Crew can duck between them heading forward, or hop over a low end at the bow. Peet, or Popeye as I have dubbed him, and Jim have set both poles without a snag. Our trolling efforts have not been rewarded, but the 14th we found 4 flying fish stranded on deck. The smallest was added to our hook for bait, and Peet set to cleaning and frying the rest, a first for him, but he could not refuse King Neptune's gift! I found him a floppy white hat to shade his eyes, and he now looks more like Gilligan of "Isle" fame. We quickly settled into a comfortable beam reach covering 150-200 miles a day with no compelling reason to loiter with landlubbers. Sunsets simply set her bow for Tobago when we were 100 miles north of Mindelo. In the days of Columbus a cabin boy called a gromet turned an ampoletta (a half-hour glass) promptly when its sand ran out, and sang this prayer at each turning:"One glass is gone
and now the second floweth;
more shall run down
if my God willeth.
To my God let's pray
to give us a good voyage;
and through His Blessed Mother
our advocate on high,
protect us from the waterspout
and send no tempest nigh."
The last two lines remain the fervent prayer of all at sea.
-The Homeward Bound
The Crossing 11/15:
After heading west at the Cape Verdes (2075 miles to go, average 121 mi/day despite our first 200 mile day, due to heading southwest on the first leg)) we settled into a routine of three 4 hour watches a night, fishing and reading by day. So far it's Sunsets 7, Jim 0: the flying fish collected on deck serve as bait. Two nice Dorado (Green Dolphin) got off the hook, one after bouncing off the transom. We also caught one bird (released), who flew into the fishing line and became entangled. As of the 16th the much touted trade winds have been a bit mild, with boat speeds in the 5-6 knot range with lumpy seas and vicious rolling, which flings the sails around violently and further slows the boat. Hopefully the sails can withstand the punishment. You wonder how you will sleep but you somehow get at least some. The sky is blue with puffy white clouds, generally pretty sunsets, and sparkling stars, fiery shooting stars and phosphorescent seas at night. Temperature is balmy, but the bimini is appreciated during the day. Joyce has been feeding us well. Fresh provisions held out for a week, but the pressure for fish is on now. We have spoken on VHF radio to two other boats who left the Cape Verdes 2 days ago, one French and one American. All hope for more wind, but not too much more. A friend expressed concern that our romantic "Slow Boat to China" would have us starting a second family. Actually, its not birth control that is an issue. Its girth control. I'm afraid we won't cut the same figures in our wedding finery when we arrive home as we did before we left: too many soft ports-of-call, lounging on deck, and no appetite-suppressing high seas. Unless we go on a fish diet. The 17th we hoisted the cruising spinnaker at 9:30, but took all sails down after lunch in favor of motoring. About 10 am on the 18th we re-hoisted sail and proceeded on course at 5 knots, wing and wing. Joyce noticed a fish swimming alongside in mockery prompting us to set a lure on a handline off the rear starboard in addition to our trolling rig. We watched all day as a flock of birds scoured the waves for flying fish, and large fish jumped in the air escaping unseen predators. After finishing our spaghetti-of-shame, Jim pulled in our hand line for the night, but before he could do likewise with the rod, zing, it started paying out line. We were ready this time. Tackle had been improved, and strategy laid with one goal in mind, "Fish in boat." It took Peet and Jim's combined strength to work the rod and reel as I hovered by with towels for Peet to grip the filament for the final heave over the transom steps into the cockpit: 22 lbs of fighting tuna and two exhausted fishermen. Like Glouscestermen, we filleted and iced down our catch as the Sunday sun set thankful that our coming Thanksgiving meal won't come from cans. Sautéed tuna steaks, tomato smothered tuna, cubed tuna in Italian bread crumbs, tuna dogs for lunch, tuna spiced with Bubba's Fish Zing: gotta love that tuna! The light and variable night winds have been slowing us down: 116 miles the 19th, 145 the 20th, 133 the 21st, with a 25 hour day, yet! We have set our clocks back twice. We have determined that broad reaching (wind on the side) is superior to running (wind behind), mostly for the added comfort of smoother motion, and slightly better vmg (velocity made good). Last night the quarter moon set and the cloudy skies made it nearly pitch black, difficult to see the mast and mainsail, alone with your thoughts. -The Salty Dogs
Atlantic Thanksgiving 11/23:
Tradition won out over tuna, and we toasted friends and family before tucking into Turkey with gravy, carrots, mashed taters, and cranberry sauce. Only 1000 miles to go on the 23rd, our 5th month aboard. After the first two thousand, it doesn't seem so far, but the Bermuda trip (700 mi) will never be the same. The warm water makes trips to the "beach" on Sunset's transom a pleasant afternoon diversion. We have acquired a small colony of barnacles on the "beach" below the bottom step that unfurl their feathery appendages whenever they're awash filtering food from the sea, and have visibly grown, substituting for landlubber's "people-watching." Peet hand steered the trip high speed of 12.4 kts the 22nd, but by 3 am velocity made good was 2.8, picking up to 7.5 by 8 am. We jibed (moved the sails over to the opposite side) the 23rd, the first sail change in 3 days. Daytime tropical torpor set in Saturday, and Peet dispensed moral boosting chocolate that he had prudently purchased when we were buying silly cans of lentils. Then we hoisted our spinnaker which we carried until sunset resetting it by 8:30 am Sunday, and thrilling to steady 8 kts exactly on course. We can't use the auto-pilot under spinnaker, but our auto-Peet steered faithfully all day. It was tempting to continue under spinnaker all night, but it is a light air sail requiring close monitoring and frequent helm adjustments. The thought of bleary-eyed "Boat Candy" on her 3-7 am watch collapsing sail, or strong winds necessitating a take-down in the dark with all hands called up convinced the Captain to motor overnight with the staysail for stability while holding our transom into following seas. Thus rocked in the cradle of the deep, we all slept in our turn. Modern sailors use satellite navigation equipment that reports both the boat speed, and the vmg, velocity made good, how much closer to your goal you are with current and angles of the boat's path taken into account. Like Columbus, we are excited to see birds similar to Bermuda Long Tails. When his men despaired of reaching land he rallied them saying, "Those birds know their business." The steady strong wind Sunday night allowed us to set the genoa, and keep up our 8 kt speed through 8 pm Monday the 26th while dodging rain squalls. Sunsets must smell the barn now that we are within 500 miles, and is racing towards port; she made 185 miles in the past 24 hrs on a smart angle of heel. Jim did his best to hold us level pitting Peet's 140 lbs against Sunsets' 32,000 out on the trapeze. Alas, our tuna gave out at lunch Monday, and it will be Perros Calientes (Dogs Hot) for dinner tonight. Zounds! All the wind left when the rain clouds blew past. Tuesday, the 27th found us motoring under bare poles. Must be the horse latitudes, so named by the Spanish for the carcasses that were found adrift by subsequent vessels as they passed. But conditions are perfect for trolling, diving off the bow with the motor in neutral, and a picnic lunch in the cockpit. We feasted on macaroni salad with black olives and chick peas, pickled three bean salad, deviled eggs, smoked salmon, apple wedges, crackers, salami and cheese. And no ants!-Barnacle Bill, Candy and Popeye
Crossing Continued 11/28:
Disgustingly motoring for last 48hours, down to 250 miles, 2 days @ 5 kts. Tried sails with limited success, wind dependent on nearby rain squalls, at least the salt has been washed off the decks. More motoring put us into Tobago Friday morning, 19 days and 18 hours from the Canaries. A memorable trip, and we are happy to have made it safely. Now all we have to do is avoid all the rocks and coral between here and home.-The Voyagers
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