Heading North……

“John, wake up. There’s a squall coming!” It was Steve. I was half asleep trying to avoid getting slammed against the port side wall of the moving bed. The waves had become more erratic and the forward cabin where I was trying to get some sleep was causing my body to lift off the bed with the waves. The waves had become larger, the size of small elephants with the worsening weather, and I was bouncing up and down as the boat crashed into the angry seas. Trying to get out of the bed without flipping onto the floor was another challenge and putting the life jacket on required all my balancing skills.

Once in the cockpit, Steve and I inspected the radar. Neil woke up with the worsening weather, unable to sleep as well. There was indeed a squall coming. We discussed the possibility of trying to avoid it, but it was just too close. It looked like a small squall and if it hit us, it would likely be short lived. “Should we put in a reef in the mainsail, so when it hits us we won’t get knocked over?” asked Steve.

Still somewhat drowsy I answered. “Naw.”

When the squall hit us, 2 minutes later, the winds picked up to 25 knots. The boat got knocked and was heeling over on its side. “Let’s put a reef in!” Neil, Steve, and I said simultaneously. The reefing process took about 1 minute, and after finishing reducing the size of sail exposed to the powerful wind, the boat motion stabilized.

Ben, Neil’s 18-year-old son, came rushing out of the companionway half naked and began to vomit profusely over the back of the boat. He didn’t seem terribly worried about going overboard without his life jacket on as this would put an end to his suffering from the sea sickness he had been battling since the beginning of the trip 48 hours earlier. As the boat stabilized, Ben’s urge to feed the fish settled; he was able to don his life jacket. Over the next hour, the sun came out, the trade winds filled in at a gentle 12 knots, the waves settled and Ben started to enjoy himself.

We left Samana, Dominican Republic, in the blazing hot sun after clearing through customs. There was departure tax, about $40 US per person and as I was leaving the customs office, I didn’t question the officer when he rolled up the wad of cash and stuff it into his front pocket. I also didn’t ask for a receipt thinking that this might upset him and delay our departure….

Leaving the Dominican Republic May 12, 2023. Next stop, New York City in 7-8 days…….

The first part of the voyage involved motoring east for about 15 miles to clear the Cape of the Bay of Samana. We then set a course due north for a direct line to New York City, 1300 nautical miles away. The trade winds were perfect from the South-east. We launched the code zero sail which is a massive downwind sail to maximize our speed as we headed north. There were some shoals to avoid that lay to the east of Turks and Caicos. Neil reminded me of a story where a friend commisioned a delivery skipper to bring a boat from the British Virgin Islands to Toronto, but got hunk up on these shoals and damaged his rudder. The delivery skipper made it as far as Florida, where the boat was put on a truck and drivenr to Toronto for repairs. We were heading directly for those shoals…..

We sailed over the shoals uneventful that first night, relying heavily on the charts to give us accurate information, Luckily we were not disappointed. We always have someone on deck, looking for boats and weather changes. We do 3 hour shifts. When the shift is over, the next one takes over. It is very special being alone in the cockpit at night. The stars are spectacular and sometimes we see shooting stars. Whenever I see one, I make a wish, as do the others. There is plenty of time to reflect on many things, 500 miles away from the closest shore, with the warm trade winds caressing the salty skin. It is truy a special time.

Ou weather router, Chris Parker expects the winds to die over the next 24 hours and we will have to motor. We anticipated this and I brought 300 liters of extra fuel in gerry containers. The winds are expected to pick up again after a day or so, and most of the time we will be sailing.

This trip has been a great adventure so far. With sailing, we can never be too prepared. We must expect the unexpected. This is difficult for most of us as a way of life, but out here, in the open ocean hundreds of miles away from the nearest point of land, we are ready. We have been fishing everyday, and have caught buckets of saragossum….but no fish. I came close last night at 2 AM during my watch. A flying fish leaped out of the water and landed on my hand. I let out an involuntary scream which woke up Neil in a panic and I’m sure scared the poor fish because it flew back into the water as quickly as it flew out. Life goes on….