Doing the Atlantic, Chapter 15, Weather Prediction, Still Fishing, Doing Some Math.

To start reading about my transatlantic adventure from the beginning (highly recommended) follow this link.

Day 12

Wednesday, February 9, 2022, 12:45PM

SOG 6.0knts

Winds are still quite light, we are and have been since dusk last night motor sailing, which is exactly as it sounds: running the motor while sailing.

Chris Parker, our weather guru, has insisted that we continue to head south-west until we hit the 14 parallel of latitude before changing our course to due west. The goal is to try to avoid some nasty weather to the north of us. The predicted weather the next few days will be a stark contrast to what we have dealt with since Sunday. Winds are expected to pick up tomorrow and Thursday, to the low to mid twenties, while continuing to pick up through Saturday. Thursday and Friday, expected winds are in the mid-twenties with gusts to the high-twenties. The worst of it is expected on Saturday, sustained winds in the high-twenties, with gusts into the mid-thirties. Leveling off a bit on Sunday in the low 20’s and Monday, becoming just right, about perfect, in the high-teens. The winds are predicted to be coming out of the north-east most of the time which means we will be on a starboard tack, taking the wind on our aft-beam which is preferable. None of the predicted seas are to be over 10 feet, which is high, but not scary. Bigger than the kiddie coaster, not the loop-de-loop coaster.

Heading west into the sunset and an ominous forecast.

Well, the head is still jocked. I did what any experienced boater should never do; I overloaded it, not with poop, rather with toilet paper. I know better! I’m embarrassed, not because I did it, but because I shouldn’t have done it. Wipe, flush way more than you think you should, repeat. I didn’t pump enough between wipes, dumb ass. Good thing there is a second head on board, you can guarantee that if the other head gets clogged it won’t be my fault.

Jabsco manual pump toilet, like the one on Avocet.

We got another hit on the fishing line. Our reaction was perfect, we all got into our predetermined places, ready to go. This fish was obviously quite large, the rod was bent to a promising angle, the fish was running, Dennis was reeling at the right time. We never did see this fish before the line snapped. This time it was not an operator error, it was the fish was bigger than the line test called for. We strung a new lure and leader and set it back out again vying that if the line breaks again we will change it out for a higher test. We’ll see…

We broke into our Villa Azul food stash again last night, Chicken-Coconut Soup with Basmati Rice. It was delicious, not the depth of flavor I get at home with ingredients that were not available on Lanzarote, but like I said, still delicious. We have 3 more meals of soup remaining, not a bad deal.

Cocktail Hour was Guacamole, Spanish White Anchovies, Manchego Cheese and Crackers. For beverages we tried/drank some Strawberry Gin and Tonic, and yup, it sucked. Round 2 was Bombay, much better.

This morning we discussed amongst many other things, how much booze we have already consumed, considering we are getting low on gin, we were curious if it was over consumption or under provisioning. Since we drank a total of 6, 750ml bottles of booze (25oz, 150 ounces total) in 11 nights, equals less than 14 ounces per night, which is less than 3.5 ounces each. Obviously, we under provisioned.

Dennis and I cleaned out the cooler that was full of the Villa Azul food. It was fairly nasty, with the expected upcoming rough weather we wanted to clean it out now before it got even nastier. While we had the cleaning supplies out we also cleaned the cockpit which was dirty mostly from general use and a little bit from fish blood. We’re becoming domesticated, our wives would be proud.

I am once again clean, showered with clean under garments.

Amazingly, we are still on our first roll of paper towels, granted they are the industrial, heavy duty Spanish type, but one roll for 11 days is impressive.

Our plan is to fire up the watermaker again this afternoon, the main tank is just about empty.

As of this morning we still had 1,700 miles to the harbor entrance in Guadeloupe, which is still more than half the distance. The encouraging thing is now that we have turned west all of the distance we travel will be “made good”, meaning that we are now making a beeline to our destination, no longer heading south so that we can eventually turn west. We have made that turn. 1,700mi/135mi per day = 12.59 days, which is very conservative especially considering the weather forecast. Alternatively 1,700mi/150mi per day = 11.33 days, still a bit conservative, yet doable.

I will open the letters from the kids tomorrow. I am looking forward to it.

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Doing the Atlantic, Chapter 11, Watch Changes and Baking Bread.

Apr15

Day 7 and 8

Friday, February 4, 2022, 12:26PM

SOG 5.7 knots

Sails are set wing on wing.

This morning John decided to change our watches, based on forecasted fair weather nights, from 2 people for 4 hours to 1 person for 3 hours, which will give each of us more time to sleep longer at night.

While I napped the others cleaned out the pilot berth, a single berth usually at the widest part of the boat, up high, tucked just under the deck. The berth is designed to keep its occupant snug, well protected during rough sea conditions as well as within close access to the cockpit. On most of the boats I’ve been on, the pilot berth is either used for storage or has been converted to cabinets, bookshelves or a combination of the two.

Different uses for a pilot berth.

The purpose of the berth cleanout is with the new watch system we would each have our own berth. Dennis and I have been sharing a berth, now we will each have our own. The cons of the pilot berth are that it’s located right in the middle of the salon, so it’s noisy and active, as well as it’s a pain in the ass to climb into and out of and I’m not as spry as I used to be. The pro is that you have your own berth.

Jens out did himself with last night’s dinner, Date-Walnuts-Manchego Stuffed Baked Pork Tenderloin with Broccoli and Basmati rice. Cocktail hour was shrimp with the Canary Island Red Sauce, quite good store bought guacamole, tortilla chips, manchego and crackers. It was really good.

I made some focaccia dough this morning, I will bake it later today.

We still haven’t opened the cooler with all the food that Dennis and I made in Lanzarote. We figure even if it’s not still frozen, it should at the very least still be cold. We’ll see.

Day 8

Saturday, February 5, 2022, 9:13AM

6.0 knots SOG

Later today will mark the first week of our crossing complete, after a rough start, it’s been fairly mellow.

The fuel tank still leaks a little. The leak is on the top of the tank where there are three see-through windows that Gary the mechanic at the marina in Puerto Calero “fixed”. Yesterday John applied another bead of Phil Swift’s Flex Seal around each window. That combined with keeping the tank no more than three quarters full has made a big difference. John has diligently sponged out the bilge of diesel each day with less to mop up as we progress.

When I dragged my ass out of my bunk after 7 hours of fitful sleep, thanks to the new watch system, which I did from 11PM until 2AM, John and Dennis pointed out the obvious, our clocks were wrong.

According to yesterday’s time it was getting dark close to 9PM and getting light a little after 9AM. I made a half-hearted argument that we should keep the time the same to enjoy cocktail hour and dinner during the light hours and who cares if it’s not light until 9 AM. I was debunked, we switched our clocks to the correct local time. We will now have to start our evening festivities a bit earlier each night.

We officially made our turn to the west yesterday, as of this morning we have a tick under two thousand miles, as the crow flies, to reach the waypoint outside of Guadeloupe’s main harbor.

Our GPS shows we are a couple of hundred
miles north of the Cape Verde Islands

Each day, during all daylight hours we have been fishing, well, we set up the rod with a lure and let it out. The only catch so far was a piece of plastic on Wednesday afternoon. We will make the same effort each day, however the probability of catching something before we close in on the Caribbean is highly unlikely.

I’m halfway through reading my fourth book, which is about double the amount of books I’ve read in the last 6 months. Fortunately I downloaded my Kindle with several books before departure. Here is what I’ve read so far:

In Her Tracks, by Robert Dugoni

Invisible, by James Patterson and David Ellis

Boy Underground, by Catherine Ryan Hyde

I’m half way through- The Last green Valley, by Mark Sullivan

The sky was incredible last night. The stars were right there, so bright, you could reach them, it felt as though we were sailing through them.

Looks like today will be shower/laundry day. Dennis had the great idea of turning one of our empty coolers into a clothes washing bin. Load it with clothes, salt water and soap; lash the lid down and let the boats motion do the work, rinse in freshwater, wring them out, hang’em to dry. Avocet will look a single-wide on a summer afternoon, when mom’s not too hungover.

We are planning on opening the cooler with the pre-prepared meals in it today, I’ll let you know how that works out later.

We have made a few sail changes, nothing major. During my watch, with a following breeze of 17-25 knots. We were flying a double reefed mainsail and a reefed furling jib. We were moving along great 6.5+ knots without too much movement. The only issue was the jib, being blocked by the main, was flapping quite a bit. I debated my choices- turn up 20’, filling the jib with the change of wind angle. Turn down 20’ and put the jib out on the starboard side keeping the mainsail out on the port, wing on wing. The third option, which John pointed out when he checked in with me, was to just roll up the jib and be done with it, which is what we did. We lost less than .5 knots of speed, we also lost the noise of the jib and its accompanying gear flapping around and gained the comfort of a flatter boat.

Once again we didn’t suffer with our dinner last night-

Cocktail Hour- Shrimp with Crunchy Chili Oil, Guacamole with Tortilla Chips and Smoked Cod with Crackers.

Jens was once again our dinner chef- Soy Marinated Pork Medallions with Tangerines, Baked Potato, Coleslaw and Corn, along with some of my homemade Focaccia.

John is now running the engine three times a day to ensure that we have the needed power, especially for “Iron Mike ” the autopilot and the refrigerator which has the ability to make a couple of trays of ice per day, the perfect amount for our cocktail hour.

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Doing the Atlantic, Chapter 10, Up the Mast

Apr14

Day 6

Thursday, February 3, 2022, 1:09PM

SOG 5.7kts

A lot of shit going on this morning. We started with light winds, just about 3 knots, so we decided that we should take the trysail down. The trysail is a small, usually brightly colored sail, much smaller than even a triple reefed mainsail. Its purpose is to be used in heavy wind situations. We pulled it up yesterday, in the afternoon when the winds were hanging in the 20’s with gust expect to be even higher, just as a precaution going into the overnight; changing sails at night is not usually fun, and can be dangerous.

The trysail wouldn’t budge; it should easily slide down on it’s own independent track with little resistance. Both John and I tried pulling with all our might, and our weight to pull it down, no go. Next we added a downhaul, a line used to as its name indicates down haul something. We attached the downhaul to the sail tack, the bottom front corner onto a winch, still wouldn’t budge. On to our next solution, I would go up the mast in a boatswain’s chair, basically a canvas harness that you sit in while someone, using a winch, pulls you up the mast.

In a boatswain’s chair jut above the first spreader.

While I get myself situated in the chair, John puts together the tools I may need, as well as grabbing the electric winch handle. It looks and works like a high powered, high torque, low speed drill. I tied the spinnaker halyard directly to the boatswain chair, not trusting the shackle, not just this shackle, but any shackle to hold. Direct line, with the shackle as a backup failsafe is the way to go.

Using the electric winch, John got me about six feet off the deck, and I stopped. John yells up to me “battery is dead, let me get the other one”. So I’m suspended there, rocking with the boat, steadying myself with the port inner shroud in my left hand and other secured halyards in my right, with my feet fending off whatever when necessary as the boat sways. John made it back on deck, replaced the battery, and up I go…about three inches, “fuck, looks like we’re doing it manually”, I here John exclaim; the back up battery was also dead. By this time, even though the boatswain chair was digging into my nether regions below and my chest up high, I was getting somewhat comfortable with my surroundings.

John slowly raised me to the top of the trysail and I started pushing each glide down. Surprisingly none of them were stuck, it just seemed to be the culmination of all the glides needing to be lubed with spray-on a graphite lubricant. From the top I pushed each glide a few inches at a time down the track as John lowered me in unison. At first it was just a few inches at a time, then a foot at a time, then two, then John was able to pull the sail free of the track and lower me to the deck. At this point if it weren’t 10AM I would have had a beer.

John lubed the track and the glides, we folded the sail, put it into its sail bag and stowed it below decks.

We caught our breath and had some water, the wind picked up, so we had to stop slacking and put up some sails. Which we did, we pulled out the jib on the starboard side, decided it would be better, for our heading, to switch it to the port side, so we pulled it in so we could let it back out on the port side. Then it was time to pull up the mainsail, we tried to do that but we needed to turn into the wind to do so. To keep the jib from flapping around while we pulled up the mainsail, we once again had to pull in the jib. Jib in, head into the wind, mainsail up, turn down, jib out, and we’re off and going.

Last night’s dinner was another Jens job, breaded baked chicken, coleslaw and basmati rice. As usual it was quite good.

It’s time to mention Cocktail Hour- Most nights before dinner we have had the civilized occasion of a cocktail, some light snacks and some conversation. It really is something to look forward to each day. Our cocktails today were for Dennis, John and I, Gin and Tonic. Jens went with Jameson and soda. The nibbles were crab salad and smoked gouda with crackers. We’re still not suffering.

I had the midnight to 4AM watch, with little wind we motored the whole watch, no other traffic on the AIS.

As I have experienced other long distance blue water sails it was time to start the: “Guess what time we will arrive” contest. After much debate and lobbying from John and I to have the rules be whoever comes closest to the time of arrival in Guadeloupe wins, that’s it, none of this “without going over” shit, which would favor the last person choosing. Whoever wins doesn’t have to pay for dinner or drinks the first night in port. Oh yeah, I won the guessing game for the Marblehead to Halifax Race on Avocet in 2017.

These are our “official” guesses-

John 2/20 @6PM

Dennis 2/22 @11:47AM

Peter 2/23 @10AM

Jens 2/20 @6AM

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Doing the Atlantic, Chapter 7, Fuzzy Heads From Diesel Fumes.

Apr11

Day 2

Sunday, January 30, 2022

27’37.55N 14’78.96W 1:25PM
137nm made good.

A lot has happened since yesterday’s entry. We departed Puerto Calero, Lanzarote, Canary Islands, Spain at 3:41PM into 10 foot swells, not breaking, with about 20 knots of wind. Steve and Victor were there to see us off, there was even a band playing on the opposite shore, which I will tell myself that they were there to send us off in style, most likely it was a wedding reception.

A dream boat with a band playing on the patio behind them as we departed Puerta Calero.

Just before departing, I called Colleen and the kids. I was able to talk to them individually, it was great. We talked about how I am quite “nervecited”, It’s a long trip, a lot could go wrong, as well as I will probably have many exciting experiences to share. At the same time, it’s a long trip and I am going to (already do) miss them very much. We also talked about the “nor’easter” that they were dealing with, expected 18 inches of snow. I’m somewhat glad I don’t have to deal with that, at the same time I wish I was there to enjoy the experience of a couple of snow days with them, shoveling, a fire in the fireplace, some great food, a nice bottle (or two) of wine and my pretty awesome family, I’d be digging that too.

Nor’easter that hit the Boston area with upwards of 24″ of snow on January 30, 2022

After a bit of shaking down, getting acclimated, we were sailing a very respectable average of 6.5 knots. Unfortunately as the day progressed the wind regressed.

About an hour into the sail John checked on the seals on the starboard midship diesel tank which he had the boat yard in Puerto Calero replace. They were leaking like a sieve, copious amounts of diesel were flowing into the bilge. Below decks smelled like a fuel spill. Not the way I was hoping the trip would start.

The leaking new seals on the fuel tanks.

As usual, John jumped into action doing dealing with initial clean-up, while figuring out the best way to deal with the situation. He found a tube of Flex-Seal (thanks Phil Swift) and with some effort, by globbing a ton of Phil’s black sealant around in the area where the new seals were supposed to be working, he was able to turn the flow into a dribble. Keep in mind we filled the tanks just before departure, so they were full, to the point of expanding, which will hopefully mean that as we use fuel the likelihood of leaking will diminish to nil.

John and Jens syphoned and sponged out the bilge while Dennis and I sailed the boat.

It was pushing 8PM when they finished cleaning up the diesel mess, I’m sure it will have to be done again later today, as well as another application of Flex-Seal. That combined with running the engine for a few hours in an effort to empty the tank a bit, will hopefully keep this problem to a minimum and John can address it in Guadeloupe.

Jens, who had been below breathing the fumes for the past several hours decided it was time for dinner. At this point I would have passed up a few bags of chips and said “have at it guys”. Not Jens, amongst the cloud of diesel mist Jens cooked us meatballs with curry powder, Basmati rice and sliced dressed cucumbers. His effort was very appreciated.

We started our watch schedule Dennis and Jens went from 8PM to 12PM, John and I from Midnight to 4AM and then back to Dennis and Jens from 4AM to 8AM. I was able to sleep for most of the 4 hour break between watches. I’m sure we will switch watch times tonight and after a while switch watch partners.

With a gentle nudge, Jens wook me up for my watch at 11:55PM. I had set my alarm, which went off at 11:45PM as it was set to. I was just sluggish getting my ass out of my bunk (diesel fumes?), currently, the V-berth that I have been “hot-bunking” with Dennis. Don’t get the wrong idea, Dennis and I are sharing a bunk only when the other has vacated it. I love my little brother, but not like that.

During the first hour of our watch John decided to start the engine so that we could charge the battery. It started right up and ran perfectly for about 5 minutes before it sputtered to a stop. FUCK!!! It sounded like a fuel issue, with tank seals being replaced, I was thinking what could have possibly gotten into the fuel to cause the engine to stop? Can we drain, clean or replace the filters? I didn’t know. John had just gotten a bunch of work done to the engine at the same Puerto Calero boatyard that did the faulty repairs to the fuel tank. Which made me think, what else did they mess up?

Meanwhile, the GPS display starts flashing on and off. Double FUCK!!!

John and I sat in the cockpit contemplating our options, to start making repairs right then, even though we didn’t know what we were doing, head towards Grand Canary Island and abort our trip or keep going without an engine? Going without an engine would be difficult, not only because of the obvious- during the times that you need to propel the boat through the water without sails, you were out of luck. Also, it’s the main power source for the boat, sure Avocet is equipped with solar panels, a wind vane and even an auxiliary gas powered generator. The wind and solar by themselves don’t produce the energy needed to run all of the boat’s systems. The biggest draws of power being the refrigerator, if needed the water maker and also the much needed and lauded autopilot.

Adding the generator would help, but the generator is not a built in unit, we would have to pull it out of the “pit”, the large stowage area beneath the port cockpit seat. We would have to lash down the generator, pull start it and attach it to the boat’s electrical system. This of course would be a royal pain in the ass, not only could it only be done weather permitting. We would have to run it for about an hour, charge the batteries that power the electrical systems for the boat, we would have to do it twice a day, and to top it all off we would have to stow it back in the pit after each use. Otherwise it would be in the way and there would be a chance of swamping it with seawater.

While we were sitting there stressed to the gills, John said, “I think I know what it is” and he did. When he was swabbing out the bilge cleaning up he had to shut off the valve leading from the fuel tank to the engine. Remember that he did this. John went below and opened the valve, we were back in business.

As for the GPS display, we don’t know the cause of the blinking, but it seems to only happen right after shutting down the engine. I’m guessing that it’s some sort of change in voltage problem that settles down after a few minutes.

The rest of the watch was uneventful, serene, there was a beautiful star lit sky somewhat hidden behind the Sahara dust fog.

During the night we could see a distant lighthouse on the east coast of Fuerteventura, another one of the Canary Islands. It may be the last land based light we see until we arrive in the Caribbean.

At watch change Jens made a pot of coffee for us, he used some of the Guatemalan coffee that Steve brought for us, it was really good. Breakfast was more of Steve’s coffee and a store-bought premade Spanish Omelette, it was also quite good.

Hopefully we will settle into some smooth sailing tomorrow.

Doing the Atlantic, Chapter 6, Casting off.

Apr9

Puerta Calero Marina, Lanzarote, Spain.

Day 1

Saturday, January 29, 2022

Go day!

After another round of Steve’s coffee (this time Guatemalan), on the veranda Dennis and I met with John and Jens at the cafe in the marina. Dennis and I had the assignment of getting bottled water for the trip. Avocet already had, according to John’s notes, more than 180 liters stashed on board. It was determined we should get an additional 160 liters. We went to the little market at the marina, which, not surprisingly, because the Canary Islands are a jumping point for transatlantic crossings, had plenty of large jugs of water. The staff there seemed to think it was totally normal for someone to come in and buy 30 each 6ltr jugs of water, for those of you quick with math, yes, we went with 180 additional liters, instead of the predetermined 160 liters; too much fresh water would not be a problem.

Earlier in the day Jens returned John’s rental car to the airport, Steve would return ours when he went to the airport for his and Victor’s return flight home to Madrid.

Back on Avocet, we stashed the water, most of it went under the dropped down salon table.

James, the mechanic, met with John and went through the autopilot stuff. Things are looking good for an afternoon departure.

Dennis and I took one of the coolers to Villa Azul and loaded it with the bags of food that we prepared and froze. Fortunately everything was frozen solid, there was some concern, it did take full 2 days for it to all freeze. With the cooler filled, we grabbed our bags, gave the villa a once over and headed to Avocet.

Steve and Victor came with us, helped load the last of the goods on board.

In the mayhem of the last minute preparations, Dennis and I forgot to get more ice. We didn’t have much room for more ice, but we did have some and we should have gotten more. We were going to get it when we got the marina, but we figured there would be plenty of time to get it later, at the last minute…we didn’t, we forgot. Jens didn’t say anything, but you could tell he wasn’t too happy with our forgetfulness. He was right though, we should have prioritized the ice.

Steve and Victor joined us on the trip to the fuel dock. Victor even got to drive the boat, which I think he enjoyed. The plan was to fill the onboard fuel and water tanks as well as all of the auxiliary tanks that are attached to the lifelines along Avocet’s gunwales. The yellow jugs are for diesel, red for gasoline (generator, dinghy outboard) and clear are for water. Once the tanks were full we would depart.

Full diesel containers and one of our three very full external coolers.

Steve and Victor helped us cast off from the dock at 3:41PM. Our sailing trip of an expected 3100 miles and a time frame of 21 to 26 days has begun.

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