The Atlantic Crossing

We made it!  After 18 days and 15 minutes sailing 2310 nm from Mindelo, Cape Verde, we arrived at Blue Lagoon on St Vincent in the Caribbean.  We crossed the Atlantic Ocean in our 12m sail boat.  Good on ya, Songster!

The start of the second leg of the rally from Mindelo was a lot of fun.  The 20 boats in the fleet going to St Vincent went first followed a half hour later by the approximately 75 boats headed to Rodney Bay in St Lucia.  Nothing is prettier than seeing a fleet of boats heading out of a harbour under sail, and even better to be part of that fleet.

Next stop - St Vincents

Passing Illheu dos Passaros outside Mindelo harbour

The fleet going to St Lucia

The fleet spreading out - Songster in red

Did the crossing meet expectations?  Yes and no.  I am definitely glad we did it.  I didn’t feel bored or apprehensive or lonely but it was a test of endurance and patience.  I loved looking out at the vast expanse of ocean and sky.  The ocean was constantly changing and quite mesmerizing.  I liked the isolation – just us and the ocean. For most of the time, we determined that the closest human habitation was the International Space Station, in orbit 254 miles away.

Just us and the ocean

Spinnaker up for the light winds

Rainbow at sea after a squall

However I do wish we had seen more wild life.  In the entire 18 days I saw dolphins only once for about 5 minutes.  Phoebe saw a dolphin and a pilot whale each very briefly.  Other than those few sightings the only other signs of fauna were flying fish and the occasional lone sea bird.  There were no turtles or sail fish or big schools of fish that we could see.

The other disappointment was that we never really had any of the iconic ocean sunsets and sunrises.  There were always clouds on the horizon obscuring the sun as it went down or came up.  I began to think perhaps we really were in Terry Pratchett’s Discworld floating on the back of a giant turtle and for us, enclosed in a cloud fence.  Nevertheless the clouds often made for beautiful sunsets in their own right.

 

 

 

The cloud fence

On day 12 of the passage I wrote the following:  ‘Intellectually when I think that here we are, four people on a small 39 foot sail boat, who have been together in this small space 24/7 for 12 solid days at sea with sleep deprivation and interrupted sleep patterns, no one to talk to but ourselves or maybe occasionally someone on the radio every few days, nothing but the big blue of the waves and sky to look at, hardly any wildlife to distract us, just the occasional lone sea bird and some flying fish, no boats sighted for days on end, constant movement, always with one hand on the boat while being bumped and tossed around, absolutely no idea what is going on in the rest of the world – I wonder why we aren't all going crazy?  Yet I find I am quite content.  

The days roll by.  The ocean waves are constantly changing. The clouds move around the sky and there is the constant sound of Songster rushing through the water.  I think I like the night watches the best.  The boat is dark and quiet.  Everyone is asleep and the sounds of the ocean and wind are amplified.  The stars come out.  The moon casts a silvery glow over the waves.  The boat produces phosphorescence as it glides through the water.  I sit in the dark cockpit by myself listening to classical music while taking it all in.’  

A rare time seeing another yacht - Catweazle overtaking us

Early morning squall coming

We slept when we could and there were the occassional repairs at sea.  We read lots of books, chatted and got together for meals.

Lee clothes and snacks all ready

Repairs at sea:  fixing the hoop on the spinnaker sock

Checking the navigation lights for salt corrosion

But by day 15, I think we all had had enough rocking and rolling and we wanted to get to land.  We were fantasizing about rum punches and restaurant meals, long walks and most importantly, sleeping a full night in a bed that wasn't constantly moving!  We were incessantly calculating the VMG (velocity made good) miles, DTD (distance to destination) and counting how many more sleeps until we would arrive at St Vincent.

Reg and Phoebe making a video for their grandchildren

Although the last leg of the Atlantic crossing was 18 days of continuous sailing, the whole process took months.  We left La Linea in Spain the 4^th of October, had a day sail to Tangiers where we spent 2 nights, then a 5 day sail to Lanzarote in the Canaries where again we spent 2 nights, then an overnight sail to Las Palmas where we spent almost a month, which was probably 2 weeks longer than needed. Then the 6 day sail to Mindelo, spending 2 nights there and finally the 18 day sail to St Vincent, arriving on 9 December – 75 days in total and 3,947 nm or, for landlubbers, 7310 km.

So will we do another ocean crossing?  Probably not, but then again the vast vista of waves and sky can be very seductive.