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He
Said:
You can always tell
when you've become well adjusted to life at sea when after a couple of days of
taking solid water over your bow that was already soaking everyone repeatedly,
you can take one of those 'special' waves that really does a number on you,
floods the cockpit and leaves everything and everyone in it's path completely
dripping wet with sea water and just looking at each other with that dumbfounded
look on their faces asking "did that just happen?", only to burst out laughing
because... what else can you do?!? Nothing, that's what you can do... nothing.
It's amazing how all that is left after so much time getting the stuffing kicked
out of you, all you can do is laugh at the ones that don't kill you, as if to
say... is that all you got??
It's funny how men and women remember such times in completely different ways. Men will always assume the macho role and say "yeah, it was rough, but I survived and I can't wait to do it again!". Women on the other hand will almost always say, "yeah, it was rough, but I survived and I will never do it again!", lol
I must say, if there's one thing I kind of enjoy about my job... not to sound sadistic or anything... it's taking some big strappin guys out long distance sailing and letting mother nature knock them down a few pegs on the evolutionary chain by introducing them to the power of the ocean. I hate to say it, but it's almost funny to see how their mindset changes as the trip progresses... it doesn't matter how much you try and prepare someone mentally for the challenges they will face, they always go in blazing and come out with a much bigger appreciation for life, lol. Not that I want to qualify myself as the resident expert on offshore sailing after only 40,000+ miles of sailing, but I personally find a great level of comfort when at sea... it is just you and the wind and the waves... nothing else, and you simply have to deal with what is served you. We have a plaque onboard that says, "We cannot direct the Wind, but we can adjust our Sails", and that's very true, especially when ocean sailing. It's always a special feeling when a big guy looks up and asks, "Rick, are we going to die?", and you look back almost wanting to laugh because you've know you've already seen much worse, but you feel bad because they are so uncertain and it is all so new, and it feels good to have the confidence in your own abilities, and your own boat, to be able to say "no, we are not going to die".
Setting Sail in perfect conditions out of Bermuda
I certainly don't mean to mock anybody who is intimidated by the sea, I was pretty nervous my first time out too! I just find it interesting to see how different personalities react differently to different situations. I've sailed with a lot of crewmembers who have signed on for our offshore adventures, and they have all been excellent and I don't think there is anyone I wouldn't sail with again, but you do get to learn allot more about an individual at sea than you ever could in as much time on land. I guess we've been lucky when I say that we haven't had anyone we wouldn't sail with again... there certainly are a lot of horror stories out there amongst cruisers who have had bad crew!
We had excellent crew signed on for both parts of our journey from the Caribbean to NYC. Mike and John on the first leg to Bermuda were both great. Mike has done offshore sailing before and is working at gaining experience for future journeys with his wife aboard their own boat in the coming years, and while John had never been offshore before, he maintained composure very well and really seemed to enjoy himself , I think we may even see John again! Now I must admit though, the trip from the Caribbean to Bermuda was a bit of a cake walk up until the final hours before our arrival, but even then, both held up very well!
Mark and Borja were our latest crewmembers that signed on for the Bermuda to New York City run and they were both experienced sailors, but first timers for offshore. I think they got a little more than they bargained for because we kind of got the stuffing kicked out of us on this leg, lol. It all started out nice and calm, flat seas, beautiful sunset, barbequed dinner in the cockpit... but on this leg it's not a matter of if you'll see some weather, it's when.
Borja and Mark enjoying a leisurely Atlantic cruise
Well, we got some weather! By the second evening we had been sailing since departing Bermuda, but our speed had increased from 4-5knots average to a very consistent 9knots! The waves were building, we had both sails reefed down to almost nothing, and we were still going top speed! Dusk is always when I start to feel sorry for the crew... that's always when you start to see the change in their optimism about their decision to challenge the sea. As dark settles in, the weather almost always builds up with it, making the ocean a big jumbled mess that you can't see and the boat just bounces through the waves in whatever direction it can find a bit of smooth water in... I guess you could say it would be kind of be like trying to go skiing through moguls while blindfolded!
Here's a sequence Borja shot of our bow with his new DSLR on Rapid Fire!
This one from inside looks more like a Submarine diving than a boat sailing!!
We survived the night, but not completely unscathed. The wind had been great, and very consistently on the beam, but the waves had built up to a considerable height in our little stretch of ocean, and when the boat came screaming down the backside of one of those 'significant' waves, as they like to call them, the boat spun around as it hit the trough and let the howling winds around the backside of the mainsail and caused an awful 'bang' when it swung around the other side of the boat. I had been off watch and sleeping, but that one brought me quickly up on deck! We surveyed what had happened and noticed one of the lexan windows in the dodger was shattered (and lexan is very hard to break!). Upon closer examination we discovered that the window had shattered because when the main gybed, it literally ripped the traveler sideways off its port side mounts and it was sitting there much like the carriage of an old typewriter hanging over one side of the boat hanging on by one set of bolts, and the traveler lines being locked in the cockpit were all that stopped it from continuing its journey to starboard... That was not good news! The window we can live without... living without the traveler could be considerably more difficult, especially since the wind was scheduled to shift to the other side of the boat in 24 hours and we'd never be able to sail the other tack without causing much more damage to the traveler.
Sliding the traveler back into position
By morning we had lucked out... the wind had abated considerably and the seas were subsiding fast. Mark and I were on watch and it looked like a good opportunity to me to have a look at the damage. We pulled down the mainsail and left the jib out while we proceeded to take the cabin roof apart inside the boat to expose the traveler mounts. Again we were lucky in that the boat came apart pretty easily and we managed to get all the bolts loosened off and the traveler slid right back into place, just like that typewriter! We tightened and sealed everything up, put the cabin roof back together and we were good as new! Up went the mainsail and we were off again!
Finishing the repair from inside
By early afternoon the winds had become very light and the seas quite smooth. Borja surfaced from his bunk (rough night!), and he and Mark were starting to look quite lively again... almost chipper! I felt so bad about how crappy they had been feeling all night in their first real 'ocean experience', and it was so calm and sunny and beautiful outside, I came out with a beer for everyone and said "let's go up on deck!" They were both thrilled with the idea and we all went up and enjoyed an ice cold beer on a sunny deck and lavished that we had survived the perils of the previous evening! ;o) We enjoyed a great day of sailing in optimum conditions, but in the back of my mind I knew what was coming...
Mark enjoying a 'cold one' on deck
As the storm started to build at dusk, it was like a repeat of a couple nights before with the exception that we were now headed into the Gulf Stream which meant even more confused waves than we had last time... the guys didn't look too excited about the whole concept. I remember Borja asking me, "Rick, you said the weather would be calmer, right?"... "yes Borja, the weather won't be nearly as nasty as it was the other night"... He seemed to take some solace in that but I remember thinking to myself, "it's the waves you should be worried about!" lol. Needless to say it was a very rough night. The waves built steadily all night and by morning we were definitely in the thick of the Gulf Stream and it was bouncing us around like a rag doll. We were taking wave after wave over the bow and they would wash fully over the cockpit dodger and over the top of the bimini. I was spending all of my offwatch time sleeping in the cockpit so I was close by if the guys were concerned or needed me for anything. About every half hour I would always awake to a large shudder as the boat would crash through another small apartment building sized wave, and the water would come rolling down the decks and I would raise my head just in time to see a wall of white water come bubbling out from under the dodger and wash completely over me, entirely soaking me, my clothes, my blanket, my pillow... everything! I'd sit there looking forward for a couple seconds, shake the water off my face and lay my head back down and go back to sleep. It sounds so funny to write about it now, but that's exactly what it was like all night, I just kept getting soaked but what could you do... nothing... just lay your head back down on your saltwater soaked pillow and go back to sleep! By morning the waves had grown considerably and that's when we took a REALLY big one that almost made it feel like we went underwater for a few seconds! I came up to the cockpit amidst the water draining out of everywhere and noticed that the port side dodger window was now also split wide open. I looked at Mark who was at the helm and he had this dumbfounded look on his face and said... "I'm not sure what that was... it was big and white and must have weighed about 400 pounds... I think somebody threw a Frigidaire at us!". It was all you could do not to laugh. I remember Borja sitting there starting to second guess the experience (again!) and saying "Rick, I think I've decided I prefer the beer on deck days!", lol.
We weren't the only ones... all the other boats were getting hit too. That morning the damage reports were coming in and 4 boats had lost their dodgers to those waves, and boats everywhere were losing their electronics to saltwater damage. We were lucky, we never lost any electronics or our dodger which had been built with extra heavy duty bracing (thanks Nat!!). Ooops... spoke to soon! By late afternoon the waves were huge and one time while I was down below putting stuff away that had found its way onto the floor, we literally launched off the top of a huge wave that had nothing on the other side of it! I was down below and it felt like time stopped and went into slow motion for a minute... Everything got real quite as I stood there and watched everything that was sitting on the counters, or on the shelves, or on the floor... it all came up and hovered in front of me, as if to say hello... then just as fast the boat landed in the trough and all the hovering 'stuff' went flying from its current airborne position to the port side of the boat at top speed! It was unbelievable... 40,000 pounds just picked up and dropped like it was a mere fly! I'd never heard such a crash... my first glance around revealed nothing broken and no new water leaks (notice I say 'new' as water had been coming in everywhere all night!), so I ran up to the cockpit to make sure everyone was ok and still onboard... this is why we always wear our tether cords in the cockpit in rough seas!
It was almost nightfall again so I told the guys that in these conditions we needed to hand steer because the autopilot doesn't have the ability to 'feel' or predict the waves, whereas we could feel it in the wheel and do a much better job skiing the moguls by hand and avoid any further crashes down the backsides of particularly steep waves. We only had about a half hour of twilight left so I had to do some very fast training for steering in the dark! It wasn't until later on my watch that I tried to set the autopilot so I could go grab a snack that I realized the autopilot didn't seem to be working very well. After trying it a few times I realized that it wasn't working at all! Next morning I went down below to check the autopilot mechanics, and sure enough, the piston was just hanging there and the mount had completely sheared off of the rudder quadrant... not good! Apparently that wave had hit us harder than even we thought, but we were extremely lucky in that the rudder itself didn't break off under the stress, and instead sheared the autopilot which was much less of a problem to be faced with in these seas! Knowing that gave me a lot of faith in our boat!
We finally made it out of the Gulf Stream and the seas smoothed considerably making it a much more 'tolerable' ride for everyone. We had been hand steering for over 24 hours and doing well, but it had left me with time to think about the autopilot. I always keep a huge inventory of spare parts onboard, in addition to a lot of 'stuff' that I'm sure most would think "why would you carry that around?"... but inevitably it always comes in handy at some point at sea! I pulled out my tools and some spare pieces of hardwood that have been roaming around under the floorboards for years, and made up some blocks that with some sawing, cutting, filing, and drilling became our new autopilot mount on the quadrant! It took only a few hours but it worked perfectly once mounted and got us through to New York without having to hand steer... boy, were Mark and Borja happy... no more hand steering!
New autopilot mount! (note the twisted metal where the old one used to be!)
We motored into New York harbour in the early morning under clear skies and calm conditions. We took our favourite annual picture of our arrival under the Statue of Liberty, and proceeded to just cruise up and down the coast of Manhattan several times, just taking it all in and appreciating what we had just come through to get here. It was one of those moments you can never forget, it just puts things into a different perspective and makes you appreciative of your life and the life around you... I guess it is the promise of that feeling that keeps sending us all to sea!
Cheers,
Rick
She Said:
Moments before we threw off our lines and departed Bermuda, the captain, crew and anyone else wandering by, were in heavy discussions about weather windows and when the best time to leave was. Much time and energy is spent reading weather faxes, listening to the advise of the weather gurus and trying to predict the future! There was a storm due to hit at some point in the next day or so and it would churn up the seas and make our trip very interesting. It seemed to be back and forth for a bit and then everyone decided to stay for the evening and leave early the next day. Rick and I decided we might as well head out immediately and spent a calm night out before the storm hit. This would give our crew time to get their sea legs and anything we would be doing on the dock we could also do under way. At least we would be on our way and that always feels good when you are anticipating/dreading what awaits you at sea!
Beautiful sky as we depart Bermuda
Mark and Borja were both newbie's to ocean sailing and were very eager, nervous, excited and keen. And every other emotion in-between, I'm sure! The water was calm and the night was warm and everyone heartily agreed it was the best decision to have left early. We stoked up the bbq and grilled up a mouth watering dinner and filled our bellies. We toasted the open ocean and Mark and Borja both agreed that this ocean sailing wasn't that bad after all. I laughed to myself and just knew the good stuff was yet to come.
Barbequing at Sea... Yum!!
We settled into our shifts and life on the sea and all was well. The calm seas held and we all managed to get a good nights sleep. We had the perfect wind and sailed all through the night and into the next day. As I knew it would, the lovely and enjoyable good weather ended. The waves soon became bigger and bigger and the sky darker and darker. Our crew soon became greener and greener! The gales were upon us and now the "fun" began. Rick ended up sleeping in the soaking wet cockpit to be on hand for any situations. I think Mark and Borja were a little shocked at the strength of the waves and the unusual feeling of being at its mercy. At least Rick and I had been through this before and knew "The Lady" was a tough, rock solid boat the would plough on and on, no matter what. I think our calmness and demeanour led them to the conclusion that they were not about to die... although they did ask a few times!
Borja and Rick on deck reefing the mainsail
We noticed the cockpit seemed to be getting wetter and wetter and quickly noticed that a huge wave had pushed the traveler right off its track. This caused the lines to break the enclosure window and were sticking out over a foot to the right! Yikes. It seemed to be holding and we had no choice but to carry on. It was too rough to even think of going on deck and attempting a MacGyver type repair. Once again we were being bounced around like a cork on the ocean and I shook my head and wondered exactly how do I end up in this situation time after time? I must get some form of amnesia, like mothers do after child birth. When you look back after, it really doesn't seem all that bad. But it is.
'Sophisticated Lady launching skyward off the top of a wave!
It is also one of those things that you feel pretty amazed and proud of yourself for doing. But that comes later. Right now I am wet, slightly queasy and being continuously tossed around. Despite this it is just another day on the ocean, making our passage to New York. You still have to eat, sleep, shower, and stay alert and engaged in the moment. Mark and Borja alternate between bravery and dismay, sometimes hinting at panicky moments! I don't blame them, the first time out in this is intimidating but they soon realized all was ok and got into the storm groove. All you sailors know this mindset, a place where your instincts and experience run side by side with strength and determination.
Dramatic Skies you can only find at Sea!
The next day actually dawned with sunny skies and the boys were able to fix the traveler and enjoy some moments on deck basking in the sun. We all caught our breath and enjoyed the reprieve as we knew the gulf stream and more gales lay ahead. Ashley and I enjoyed reading in the cockpit with the sun on our faces, all cozy and safe. By nightfall the second real storm hit with high winds, a horrible mish mash of screwed up waves and we were entering the Gulf Stream. They don't call this the Bermuda Triangle for nothing! Borja and I were in the cockpit when this monster of a wave slammed into the boat. For a few seconds it seemed as if we were under a sea of white foam and roaring skies. We went up, up and up and then suddenly dropped as if off a cliff. We hit the water with a huge bang. I yelled for Rick and he said "whoa, everything in the boat just went 2 feet in the air and then smashed to the ground!". We were all fine but the wave had smashed the auto pilot and it no longer worked! Great, we get to hand steer in a blender of waves and wind.
Rick gave Mark and Borja the 5 minute tutorial on hand steering up and over the huge waves in the dark. No time to really practice, this is what the off shore experience is all about, just doing it. Rick, Mark and Borja did a fantastic job steering the boat without the luxury of the auto pilot for the next 24 hours. At one point I looked out of my cabin and Borja was sleeping on the floor of the main cabin up against the cabinets! He said it was the best spot in the house, steady and calm and he slept like a baby swaddled in foul weather gear and pillows. Mark was on the helm during the day and a gigantic wave hit the enclosure and cracked the other side of the lexan window! Now we had matching broken front windows. Mark said it was a Frigidaire that hit us! The storms passed as we got past the gulf stream and we all heaved a sigh of relief. We were almost there and New York was close at hand. The one good part about the storms is that we hardly used any diesel and sailed almost the entire way. Rick loved that!
Rick took apart the auto pilot and constructed and devised a working system with scraps of wood and bits he had stored on board. You never know what may come in handy some day! This was a great relief to the crew and we sailed into a sunny and warm New York harbour.
The boys toasting a successful journey
It was a glorious day and we all lounged on deck in the sun and watched the city scape roll by. It was such a great day we did about 4 loops around the harbour and were worried the homeland security was going to get concerned. We had several helicopters buzzing around us!
Safely under Lady Liberty!
We soon pulled into dock and touched shore and boy did it feel good. The sight of New York spread out before us was so inviting. I know all sorts of land adventures lay amongst its buildings and avenues!!
Cheers,
Terri
Wind
In
My Sails Inc. |
