Unplanned Re-Route

The Bahamas sound pretty good

We left the dock in Hampton, VA at 11:00 pm, November 8, on a cold, clear night. Whenever possible, I prefer to leave on long passages during the morning hours. It adds to the excitement of beginning a journey at the start of the day. It implies the promise of brighter days ahead. We chose this time however based on the recommendation of our ‘weather router’, Chis Parker. A weather router is a meteorologist who specializes in providing detailed routing recommendations for your specific vessel. The idea is to steer around, to the extent possible, severe weather. We had a narrow weather window as one Nor’Easter was exiting the coastal waters off the US headed NE and another could be seen forming and would hit in 5 days or so.

Before we left the Chesapeake Bay we began to feel the large rolling ocean swells, remnants of the last powerful storm. The waves were predicted to be 4 - 8 feet however their ‘period’ (the time between the crest of one wave and the next) was 11 seconds. That meant while we could expect a good deal of rolling as they were hitting us on the beam (middle of the boat) they weren’t particularly dangerous as they weren’t cresting or breaking on us. We settled into our watch schedule (3 hours on/6 hours off) while motoring along as the wind was below 10 knots and we wouldn’t have been able to maintain adequate speed under sail.

We crossed the Gulf Stream headed due east off Cape Hatteras, NC in reasonably calm conditions and after a day or so turned south. The Gulf Stream is a fascinating element of the North Atlantic ecosystem. This giant ocean current can run as fast as 4 knots carrying warm water from the Caribbean all the way to the western shores of Europe. On the western side along the US east coast the water is darker and the temperatures much colder. On the eastern side, the water is cobalt blue and much warmer. You literally remove layers of clothing as you cross. The sun came out and the wind picked up allowing for a solid day of glorious sailing at 7.0+ knots.

Weather downloads with the onboad satellite system showed we needed to get south and east of 30 degrees North and 74 degrees West by Nov 12 in order to avoid the southern edge of the next Nor’Easter brewing in the North Atlantic. As the storm formed to the north of us it drew in warmer air from the south meaning we were now unable to sail and motored directly into a building southerly wind. We were still dealing with ‘rollers’ (waves) from the NE from the previous storm although now in the 2 - 4 ft range however wind-driven and shorter waves from the south began forming. As the storm developed and spread, our ability to get south against building wind and waves diminished. By late Saturday, the 13th, we were approaching gale conditions with sustained winds in the 22 - 26 knot range with 30 - 36 knot gusts. The waves became steeper and closer together at 6 - 10 ft with the occasional rogue of 15 feet.

It was about this time our autopilot decided it had had enough and stopped working. This meant hand steering in pouring rain that was at times coming at us sideways. Hand steering in those conditions entails crawling up the side of one wave and as you reach the crest angle the bow over so the boat ‘skids’ down the backside of the wave. This keeps the bow from falling off of the wave and banging hard into the seas. Repeated banging into the seas after an extended period of time virtually assures things on the boat will break. In those conditions hand steering requires a good deal of concentration and is exhausting. At night without the benefit of moonlight, it must be done by ‘feel’. You gain a sense of the motion of the ocean and learn to ‘ride it’. In short doses, it’s actually fun! I found that after about 36 hours of this I’d see the waves in my dreams as I laid in my bunk and tried to sleep.

We decided to turn more westerly in the hope that the storm, as it moved to the NE would pass over us more quickly. It also gave us a more comfortable sea state to navigate the waves. Unfortunately, the storm wasn’t quite done and settled in around us for another 12 hours or so. We may have also gone too far west and picked up the eastern edge of the Gulf Stream which meant that as we turned south we could only make 3.5 knots. The storm abated and in it’s place was a large area (500+ miles) of dead calm which meant insufficient wind for sailing. We assessed our fuel situation against the roughly 800 additional miles we had to go and decided to turn for the Bahamas. We were able to get some motor sailing in over the next few days and after 6 and a half days at sea tied the boat up at the Abaco Beach Resort and Marina in Marsh Harbour.

While we typically try to avoid these squalls they were a welcome indicator that we’d reached tropical waters.

We did manage to save a life along the way. We spotted this little fellow flying low along the wave tops circling our boat about 150 miles north of the Bahamas. He (assuming it was a ‘he’) was clearly not a sea bird and looked exhausted. He circled the boat and eventually realized that if he wanted to live he was going to have to tag along with us. We guessed he’d hopped on a cargo ship while in port for a rest and awoke to find himself hundreds of miles at sea. One of our crew (Bill) insured that our stowaway had water and food. Over the next day or so our stowaway re-gained strength and stayed on board for the duration of the trip. Within about 15 minutes of being tied up he took off. The only ‘thank you’ we got for saving his life was the small mess he’d left where he’d nested!

Our stowaway reviewing my navigation skills. I don’t think he was impressed. I could almost hear him saying “Are we there yet?”

On the grand scale of things this wasn’t a particularly dangerous storm. At no time did I, or the crew, feel we were in real danger. There were a few rogue waves which tossed us around. On one the boat ‘zigged’ and I ‘zagged’ resulting in a broken middle toe. Fortunately, it was a minor dislocation so a little ice, tape, and ibuprofen kept me going. On another wave, and this was a first for me, while sleeping on the starboard side settee (coach) I was literally tossed across the main salon landing on the floor. No bruises OR broken bones! Note to self: add lee cloths (nets designed to keep you in place while sleeping) before the next off shore trip!

Even though it was a rather mild storm I was amazed at how it revealed even the slightest weaknesses on the boat. The brackets for the life ring were apparently worn and snapped off in one particularly large gust of wind. Thankfully it happened during the day so it gave us a chance to practice our ‘Man Over Board’ retrieval process and recover the ring! I also noticed at the marina that the base of the support brackets for the dinghy davits (metal structure that lifts the dinghy and holds it and the outboard motor off the water) had worked loose and were closer to failure than I’d like. Thankfully the dinghy was strapped to the foredeck for the offshore portion of the trip so there wasn’t much ‘load’ on the bracket at sea. I’ve since gone over every bracket and screw to be sure they are tightened down. It also looks like my Seven Seas Cruising Association burgee (flag) didn’t like the high winds well either!

Given the distance to St. Maarten (roughly 900 miles) and the fact that the Trade Winds (seasonal strong winds blowing from the SE along the leeward islands) are now settling in we would need to sail due east for 400 - 500 miles, then turn south if we still wanted to get to St. Maarten. The entire trip would be an additional 1200 - 1300 miles. OR we could island hop in the Bahamas for the duration of the winter returning to the Chesapeake for hurricane season, 2022.

Final approach to Abaco. We reached the welcome sight of land just before dawn which meant slowing down till the sun was fully up. I was NOT going to attempt navigating around coral reefs in the dark!

This was Endurance’s (and mine as Captain) first real offshore test. As you might expect, every trip can be an adventure and an opportunity to learn and improve one’s skills. This trip was no different. I suppose you can count any offshore trip that has the Captain and Crew stepping on land in one piece with the boat still seaworthy after 6 and 1/2 days at sea covering nearly 900 miles a success. That said, this trip showed me I still have a great deal to learn before I’ll consider myself a true mariner.

Sailors can be a very superstitious lot. I took notice on our departure and throughout the trip that not once did we see dolphins coming along side to greet and entertain us. I think I’ll turn back if that happens again!

Nearly all of the maintenance and repairs have been made so now it’s time to enjoy exploring new islands and anchorages, long walks on the beach, snorkeling, scuba diving, and ‘island life’ in general.

To all my family and friends in the US, I wish you a happy and safe Thanksgiving from the islands. May your homes be filled with laughter, love, and good health.

And don’t forget to subscribe!

Endurance out.

“Stay hungry, stay young, stay foolish, stay curious, and above all, stay humble because just when you think you got all the answers, is the moment when some bitter twist of fate in the universe will remind you that you very much don't.” Tom Hiddleston