Day 11
Distance run in last 24 hours: 157 nautical miles
Distance to destination: 1163 nautical miles
At last! After another trying day, the wind filled in during Wednesday evening and we began to make faster progress. Flying a bright yellow spinnaker, one of the boats from the racing division had gradually overtaken us during the day, but as the wind strengthened we overhauled him during the hours of darkness and left him far astern overnight. However, with the new dawn so the winds became lighter once again, and we seemed to be resigned to yet another day of gybing left and right seeking the breeze. After an especially frustrating watch Jane took to her bunk demoaning what she described as the 'betrayed winds'! However, as the easterly wind now seems established we decided to adjust our sail wardrobe, and David and I spent a complicated hour on the foredeck this morning setting up a second headsail - this was a 'first' for both of us. We have now dropped the mainsail and are sailing downwind under twin running headsails, and if the wind remains astern (or if we catch the long anticipated but possibly non-existent trade winds) we may retain this configuration for the next thousand miles.
It has become very warm. Sailing downwind always feels warm, as the yacht is travelling in the same direction as the breeze, reducing the apparent wind felt onboard. We are all seeking the shade during hours off watch. There are still many flying fish in these latitudes, and another landed on deck last night.
'Caro' from the racing fleet arrived in St Lucia today, breaking the previous record for the ARC by 8 hours. We remain quite well placed in the cruising division, and are enjoying getting the best performance we can out of Alcedo.
Thursday, 5 December 2013
Day 10
Distance run in last 24 hours: 154 nautical miles
Distance to destination: 1325 nautical miles
An unexpected shock.
At dusk (around 18:50) last evening (Tuesday) in position 17'44.39 N 36'12.46 W Alcedo hit a submerged object. I was helming at the time and was the only crew member on deck - there was a dull thump and a tremor shook the yacht. Speed dropped instantly from over 6 knots to 3 knots. I immediately checked the area around the boat while the rest of the crew rushed on deck, a couple prudently collecting life jackets on the way. There was no sign of anything obvious in the water. We conducted a very full and careful check of the boat - the bilges and the keel bolts particularly - and were very relieved to discover that no water was coming on board. After circling for a while, and checking the steering, we tentatively continued on our way. No-one can be sure what exactly we struck. Thankfully it was certainly not one of the submerged containers that all too frequently fall from cargo ships - this would have done serious and possible terminal damage to the yacht. There may have been a log beneath the surface, or more likely a large mammal such as a dolphin, porpoise or a small whale (Jane thought she saw a shark's fin - possibly a basking shark? - circling after the impact, but could not be sure in the poor light). Fortunately for us Alcedo seems to have struck a glancing blow and sustained minimal damage. All the other crew members have sailed many more sea miles than I have, and none have managed to hit anything (yet), so there has been a certain amount of leg-pulling and gallows humour that I have registered this achievement in mid Atlantic on my first ocean crossing.
After this excitement, I had another exceptional early morning watch from 02:00. Alcedo was sailing under mainsail and poled out genoa, the stars were out and we hit 8 knots at times. However, the wind has proved very inconsistent, and soon we were motoring again.
As we sail west, time on board gradually changes from GMT. Today we changed the ship's clock for a second time, and we are now two hours behind UK time.
This morning began cloudy, with occasional squally rain, and has been especially maddening. There is now a little more wind, blowing from astern, but this has been very variable in both strength and direction. We have had sails up and down, been on port gybe then starboard gybe, been poled out or dropped the genoa altogether. Sally has been especially frustrated and my entire watch seemed to consist of sail changes and direction changes, as we chased whatever wind there was. The Atlantic swell rolls the boat from side to side, just enough to spill wind from the sails and impede forward progress. To add to our enjoyment, we had a brief squall just before I came off watch. Since we gybed to the south this morning we have seen lots of flying fish (we seem to have found a sort of flying fish superhighway) and I decided that I was going to try to film these strange creatures. Easier said than done, however, and quite probably (like the sail changes) another comprehensive exercise in futility.
Distance run in last 24 hours: 154 nautical miles
Distance to destination: 1325 nautical miles
An unexpected shock.
At dusk (around 18:50) last evening (Tuesday) in position 17'44.39 N 36'12.46 W Alcedo hit a submerged object. I was helming at the time and was the only crew member on deck - there was a dull thump and a tremor shook the yacht. Speed dropped instantly from over 6 knots to 3 knots. I immediately checked the area around the boat while the rest of the crew rushed on deck, a couple prudently collecting life jackets on the way. There was no sign of anything obvious in the water. We conducted a very full and careful check of the boat - the bilges and the keel bolts particularly - and were very relieved to discover that no water was coming on board. After circling for a while, and checking the steering, we tentatively continued on our way. No-one can be sure what exactly we struck. Thankfully it was certainly not one of the submerged containers that all too frequently fall from cargo ships - this would have done serious and possible terminal damage to the yacht. There may have been a log beneath the surface, or more likely a large mammal such as a dolphin, porpoise or a small whale (Jane thought she saw a shark's fin - possibly a basking shark? - circling after the impact, but could not be sure in the poor light). Fortunately for us Alcedo seems to have struck a glancing blow and sustained minimal damage. All the other crew members have sailed many more sea miles than I have, and none have managed to hit anything (yet), so there has been a certain amount of leg-pulling and gallows humour that I have registered this achievement in mid Atlantic on my first ocean crossing.
After this excitement, I had another exceptional early morning watch from 02:00. Alcedo was sailing under mainsail and poled out genoa, the stars were out and we hit 8 knots at times. However, the wind has proved very inconsistent, and soon we were motoring again.
As we sail west, time on board gradually changes from GMT. Today we changed the ship's clock for a second time, and we are now two hours behind UK time.
This morning began cloudy, with occasional squally rain, and has been especially maddening. There is now a little more wind, blowing from astern, but this has been very variable in both strength and direction. We have had sails up and down, been on port gybe then starboard gybe, been poled out or dropped the genoa altogether. Sally has been especially frustrated and my entire watch seemed to consist of sail changes and direction changes, as we chased whatever wind there was. The Atlantic swell rolls the boat from side to side, just enough to spill wind from the sails and impede forward progress. To add to our enjoyment, we had a brief squall just before I came off watch. Since we gybed to the south this morning we have seen lots of flying fish (we seem to have found a sort of flying fish superhighway) and I decided that I was going to try to film these strange creatures. Easier said than done, however, and quite probably (like the sail changes) another comprehensive exercise in futility.
Wednesday, 4 December 2013
Day 9
Distance run in the last 24 hours: 149 nautical miles
Distance to destination: 1476 nautical miles
It is said that no two days are ever the same, but today closely resembles yesterday. Over the previous night, we closed with a yacht several miles off to starboard, and passed him in the morning. Last night we had a yacht several miles off the port quarter, and by morning he too had disappeared astern. The sun is up again in a blue sky with a few similarly fluffy clouds, and the sea is a deeper shade of turquoise blue. At 27C the temperature is a couple of degrees warmer. The wind still allows us to steer directly for our destination, but is slowly changing to a more easterly direction, and imperceptibly filling in, although for the moment it remains too light to give us much of a boost. We have been motor sailing in order to maintain a respectable daily average, although we will be penalised for this on corrected time at the finish.
I think it was Giles Dealtry who reminded me that ocean sailing was 90% boredom and 10% fear, and the past couple of days have been monotonous. We have been reading while waiting for the wind to arrive. I'm almost through Anna Karenina on the Kindle, and we have enjoyed the distraction provided by occasional fleeting visits from shearwaters and petrels (no more dolphins or frigate birds, sadly). In such light conditions meals, such as breakfast (below) have been relaxed affairs.
One of my current watches is the 'graveyard shift' of 02:00-04:00, but I am enjoying this slot. The sky provided a spectacular light show last night. The absence of light pollution here in mid Atlantic makes so many more stars visible to the naked eye, and our iPads make these easier to identify, I counted over 20 shooting stars in 30 minutes, and if the skies remain clear we are expecting to observe a comet too over the next few nights.
The good news is that the wind is expected to strengthen tomorrow, and enable us to make faster progress towards St Lucia.
Distance run in the last 24 hours: 149 nautical miles
Distance to destination: 1476 nautical miles
It is said that no two days are ever the same, but today closely resembles yesterday. Over the previous night, we closed with a yacht several miles off to starboard, and passed him in the morning. Last night we had a yacht several miles off the port quarter, and by morning he too had disappeared astern. The sun is up again in a blue sky with a few similarly fluffy clouds, and the sea is a deeper shade of turquoise blue. At 27C the temperature is a couple of degrees warmer. The wind still allows us to steer directly for our destination, but is slowly changing to a more easterly direction, and imperceptibly filling in, although for the moment it remains too light to give us much of a boost. We have been motor sailing in order to maintain a respectable daily average, although we will be penalised for this on corrected time at the finish.
I think it was Giles Dealtry who reminded me that ocean sailing was 90% boredom and 10% fear, and the past couple of days have been monotonous. We have been reading while waiting for the wind to arrive. I'm almost through Anna Karenina on the Kindle, and we have enjoyed the distraction provided by occasional fleeting visits from shearwaters and petrels (no more dolphins or frigate birds, sadly). In such light conditions meals, such as breakfast (below) have been relaxed affairs.
One of my current watches is the 'graveyard shift' of 02:00-04:00, but I am enjoying this slot. The sky provided a spectacular light show last night. The absence of light pollution here in mid Atlantic makes so many more stars visible to the naked eye, and our iPads make these easier to identify, I counted over 20 shooting stars in 30 minutes, and if the skies remain clear we are expecting to observe a comet too over the next few nights.
The good news is that the wind is expected to strengthen tomorrow, and enable us to make faster progress towards St Lucia.
Monday, 2 December 2013
Day 8
Distance run over the last 24 hours: 155 nautical miles
Distance to destination: 1624 nautical miles
Sailing can be maddening at times. On Alcedo we are enjoying very benign conditions, and we should be happy. We are in the Tropics now, the weather is warm and sunny, the sea state is almost flat, and the wind direction continues to allow us to point directly at our destination. All that is missing is the crucial ingredient - enough wind to drive us quickly towards St Lucia. For most of last night and this morning the wind has hovered between 4 and 7 knots, while we really need something over 10 knots to make a fast passage. We are not becalmed and we are making the best we can of the conditions, but progress is slower than we would like. The consolation is that most of the ARC fleet must be facing similarly fickle winds (indeed we slowly gained on another yacht during the night and then passed him this morning). Not that we are in the least competitive, of course.
As for the trade winds, we are coming to the conclusion that these are merely nautical mythology....
Distance run over the last 24 hours: 155 nautical miles
Distance to destination: 1624 nautical miles
Sailing can be maddening at times. On Alcedo we are enjoying very benign conditions, and we should be happy. We are in the Tropics now, the weather is warm and sunny, the sea state is almost flat, and the wind direction continues to allow us to point directly at our destination. All that is missing is the crucial ingredient - enough wind to drive us quickly towards St Lucia. For most of last night and this morning the wind has hovered between 4 and 7 knots, while we really need something over 10 knots to make a fast passage. We are not becalmed and we are making the best we can of the conditions, but progress is slower than we would like. The consolation is that most of the ARC fleet must be facing similarly fickle winds (indeed we slowly gained on another yacht during the night and then passed him this morning). Not that we are in the least competitive, of course.
As for the trade winds, we are coming to the conclusion that these are merely nautical mythology....
Day 7
Distance run in last 24 hours: 151 nautical miles
Distance to destination: 1762 nautical miles
Things have taken a marked turn for the better. By making a westerly course yesterday Alcedo punched through the 'vigorous squall line' that had been making life a misery. We came out of the rain this morning, into pleasant sailing conditions with sunny skies and only a few distant clouds. Even better, the wind had shifted to the north west, which has enabled us to tack to the south west and to set a course directly to our destination in St Lucia. This happy state of affairs will not last of course, but for the moment we are enjoying the sensation of sailing in the right direction! All the wet weather gear has been dried on the guardrail and we have been able to open the hatches and get some welcome air through the boat.
We have not seen any dolphins for the past couple of days, but are at times accompanied by one sea bird or other. While steering through one of the more miserable watches yesterday, I was distracted and entertained by a frigate bird that swooped and glided around the yacht for 20 minutes or so. Impervious to the winds and rain, he disappeared off to the east.
While Jane was on watch in the middle of the (very dark) night, she noticed something flapping the cockpit. Thinking this was a piece of paper she reached to pick it up, and was startled to find she had a flying fish in her hand. I was pleased to see several of these remarkable creatures skimming over the waves this morning.
We have now been at sea for one week, during which we have sailed 1172 nautical miles. Due the wind and currents, these have not all been directly towards St Lucia, unfortunately. The GPS now gives us our distance to destination, and it will be good to see this figure decline over the next few days. But where, where, where are the trade winds?
Distance run in last 24 hours: 151 nautical miles
Distance to destination: 1762 nautical miles
Things have taken a marked turn for the better. By making a westerly course yesterday Alcedo punched through the 'vigorous squall line' that had been making life a misery. We came out of the rain this morning, into pleasant sailing conditions with sunny skies and only a few distant clouds. Even better, the wind had shifted to the north west, which has enabled us to tack to the south west and to set a course directly to our destination in St Lucia. This happy state of affairs will not last of course, but for the moment we are enjoying the sensation of sailing in the right direction! All the wet weather gear has been dried on the guardrail and we have been able to open the hatches and get some welcome air through the boat.
We have not seen any dolphins for the past couple of days, but are at times accompanied by one sea bird or other. While steering through one of the more miserable watches yesterday, I was distracted and entertained by a frigate bird that swooped and glided around the yacht for 20 minutes or so. Impervious to the winds and rain, he disappeared off to the east.
While Jane was on watch in the middle of the (very dark) night, she noticed something flapping the cockpit. Thinking this was a piece of paper she reached to pick it up, and was startled to find she had a flying fish in her hand. I was pleased to see several of these remarkable creatures skimming over the waves this morning.
We have now been at sea for one week, during which we have sailed 1172 nautical miles. Due the wind and currents, these have not all been directly towards St Lucia, unfortunately. The GPS now gives us our distance to destination, and it will be good to see this figure decline over the next few days. But where, where, where are the trade winds?
Sunday, 1 December 2013
Day 6
Position: North west of the Cape Verde Islands
Distance run in the last 24 hours: 188 nautical miles. Now less than 2000 nm to destination.
The ARC and the Trade (Winds) Descriptions Act.
Crossing the Atlantic with the ARC is supposed to be simple, straightforward and fun. Just leave the Canaries and follow the African coast south until roughly the latitude of the Cape Verdes, then turn right and pick up balmy trade winds which waft the yacht west across to the Caribbean. Unfortunately this is not at all what the ARC is delivering in 2013. For the past 24 hours we have been battling an Atlantic depression with strengthening winds, building seas and almost incessant rain, and the forecast is for this to persist over the weekend. We have just passed through a horrible squall line, with a short period of absolutely torrential rain. The good news is that the wind angle allows us to make rapid progress towards our destination, but the bad news is that everyone and everything on board is wet. Life is more difficult when the boat is heeling by 20 degrees, and we have had winds over the deck approaching 30 knots at times. Conditions are tough, but not extreme, although we shall all be thoroughly fed up of this low pressure system before we break free from it. Despite the rain, steering the boat has been exhilarating, although not so easy in the pitch black of night when it is impossible to discern the direction or size of incoming waves. Indeed, I had a woeful time helming last night, when the wind was hard to locate, and my reactions were not nearly as sharp as they should have been. I am fortunate to sail with a forgiving crew! This morning was much better, reaching before impressive waves sweeping through from the south. Sitting at the wheel looking up at the waves as they roll in is an inspiring sight. Is is above all at moments like this, in the solitude of the ocean, that the sheer power of the sea is most impressive. Alcedo has sailed wonderfully well, and is more than capable of looking after us all.
We had one moment of drama yesterday afternoon, when the heavy cabin table tore itself free of its mountings. Fortunately the crew were in position to catch this as it fell, and no serious damage was done, although Jane suffered a bruised ankle. 90 minutes of hard work (mainly by the skipper) later and the table was more effectively secured in place.
Dreadful news from the ARC people this morning, that the French skipper of one of the yachts died last night, apparently from cardiac arrest. His yacht has put into the Cape Verdes. This has cast a grim shadow over the rally, and everyone's thoughts are with his family.
Position: North west of the Cape Verde Islands
Distance run in the last 24 hours: 188 nautical miles. Now less than 2000 nm to destination.
The ARC and the Trade (Winds) Descriptions Act.
Crossing the Atlantic with the ARC is supposed to be simple, straightforward and fun. Just leave the Canaries and follow the African coast south until roughly the latitude of the Cape Verdes, then turn right and pick up balmy trade winds which waft the yacht west across to the Caribbean. Unfortunately this is not at all what the ARC is delivering in 2013. For the past 24 hours we have been battling an Atlantic depression with strengthening winds, building seas and almost incessant rain, and the forecast is for this to persist over the weekend. We have just passed through a horrible squall line, with a short period of absolutely torrential rain. The good news is that the wind angle allows us to make rapid progress towards our destination, but the bad news is that everyone and everything on board is wet. Life is more difficult when the boat is heeling by 20 degrees, and we have had winds over the deck approaching 30 knots at times. Conditions are tough, but not extreme, although we shall all be thoroughly fed up of this low pressure system before we break free from it. Despite the rain, steering the boat has been exhilarating, although not so easy in the pitch black of night when it is impossible to discern the direction or size of incoming waves. Indeed, I had a woeful time helming last night, when the wind was hard to locate, and my reactions were not nearly as sharp as they should have been. I am fortunate to sail with a forgiving crew! This morning was much better, reaching before impressive waves sweeping through from the south. Sitting at the wheel looking up at the waves as they roll in is an inspiring sight. Is is above all at moments like this, in the solitude of the ocean, that the sheer power of the sea is most impressive. Alcedo has sailed wonderfully well, and is more than capable of looking after us all.
We had one moment of drama yesterday afternoon, when the heavy cabin table tore itself free of its mountings. Fortunately the crew were in position to catch this as it fell, and no serious damage was done, although Jane suffered a bruised ankle. 90 minutes of hard work (mainly by the skipper) later and the table was more effectively secured in place.
Dreadful news from the ARC people this morning, that the French skipper of one of the yachts died last night, apparently from cardiac arrest. His yacht has put into the Cape Verdes. This has cast a grim shadow over the rally, and everyone's thoughts are with his family.
Friday, 29 November 2013
Day 4
Distance run: 151 nautical miles
A frustrating day. As we were being headed by westerly winds, we decided to tack south but the westerlies did not produce the anticipated boat speed. For most of the day the sea was flat - the oily surface indicating a serious lack of wind. Quite a monotonous day of motor sailing, reading and topping up the tan. The weather is quite warm - about 23 degrees for most of the day and at night. The Kindle has been invaluable - managed to read Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton (which I enjoyed) and Chekhov's The Sea-Gull (which I did not).
We had a brief visit from four dolphins in mid-afternoon, but they were gone within 30 seconds, apparently as bored with the conditions as we were. Everyone is crying out for wind.
This was my first day to cook the evening meal and I was under a little pressure as the standard of cuisine to date has been excellent - we have enjoyed fish pie, chicken curry, and pork with leeks and mashed potato. Fortunately my 'Spaghetti San Franco' was received enthusiastically - or at least without complaint. I note that the Skipper has yet to put in an appearance in the galley!
Day 5
Distance run: 190 nautical miles
Be careful what you wish for! A strong southeasterly set in during the course of the evening, and Alcedo has kicked up her heels and run. When I came on deck for my nighttime watch at 02:00 we were sailing at 9-10 knots. I have never seen a darker night. With clouds overhead there was not a star to be seen, and we are now some distance away from other ARC yachts, so for once there were no reassuring navigation lights on the horizon. Indeed, it was impossible to pick out a horizon at all - what was sky, and what was sea? Visibility was limited to about 10 metres either side of the boat. Alcedo, in her element, cared nothing for this, but hurtled on into the sheer blackness of the night. Helming was like a blind man riding a roller-coaster. However, we were now moving, and in the right direction. It was quite an exciting night, with the yacht being blown round a full 360 degrees at one point, but luckily no damage was done.
For this morning's watch the wind had picked up even more, but was now accompanied by strong driving rain. Not ideal conditions, but still a good wind angle so were are keen to make the most of it. Alcedo is now making 9 knots consistently, with occasional 10 or 11 knot moments, much to Venetia's delight. Steering the yacht has been simply exhilarating, despite the incessant rain.
I have been thinking of Horatio during the recent watches, reflecting that had it not been for him I would surely not be here - in the middle of the vast nothingness of sea. I have no way of knowing how the sponsorship is progressing, but I hope that readers will continue to spread the word and that donations for this excellent cause continue to pour in.
Distance run: 151 nautical miles
A frustrating day. As we were being headed by westerly winds, we decided to tack south but the westerlies did not produce the anticipated boat speed. For most of the day the sea was flat - the oily surface indicating a serious lack of wind. Quite a monotonous day of motor sailing, reading and topping up the tan. The weather is quite warm - about 23 degrees for most of the day and at night. The Kindle has been invaluable - managed to read Ethan Frome by Edith Wharton (which I enjoyed) and Chekhov's The Sea-Gull (which I did not).
We had a brief visit from four dolphins in mid-afternoon, but they were gone within 30 seconds, apparently as bored with the conditions as we were. Everyone is crying out for wind.
This was my first day to cook the evening meal and I was under a little pressure as the standard of cuisine to date has been excellent - we have enjoyed fish pie, chicken curry, and pork with leeks and mashed potato. Fortunately my 'Spaghetti San Franco' was received enthusiastically - or at least without complaint. I note that the Skipper has yet to put in an appearance in the galley!
Day 5
Distance run: 190 nautical miles
Be careful what you wish for! A strong southeasterly set in during the course of the evening, and Alcedo has kicked up her heels and run. When I came on deck for my nighttime watch at 02:00 we were sailing at 9-10 knots. I have never seen a darker night. With clouds overhead there was not a star to be seen, and we are now some distance away from other ARC yachts, so for once there were no reassuring navigation lights on the horizon. Indeed, it was impossible to pick out a horizon at all - what was sky, and what was sea? Visibility was limited to about 10 metres either side of the boat. Alcedo, in her element, cared nothing for this, but hurtled on into the sheer blackness of the night. Helming was like a blind man riding a roller-coaster. However, we were now moving, and in the right direction. It was quite an exciting night, with the yacht being blown round a full 360 degrees at one point, but luckily no damage was done.
For this morning's watch the wind had picked up even more, but was now accompanied by strong driving rain. Not ideal conditions, but still a good wind angle so were are keen to make the most of it. Alcedo is now making 9 knots consistently, with occasional 10 or 11 knot moments, much to Venetia's delight. Steering the yacht has been simply exhilarating, despite the incessant rain.
I have been thinking of Horatio during the recent watches, reflecting that had it not been for him I would surely not be here - in the middle of the vast nothingness of sea. I have no way of knowing how the sponsorship is progressing, but I hope that readers will continue to spread the word and that donations for this excellent cause continue to pour in.
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