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