Monday, February 23, 2015

Land Ho!

Dear Family and Friends,

After 30 days at sea, we arrived in lovely Admiralty Bay, Bequia ("bek-way")at 0820 on Monday, February 23, and picked up a mooring in the northwest corner of the bay, off a restaurant/bar called Daffodil's.

We're glad to have the long (3200 nautical mile) passage behind us, and are grateful that conditions, if not ideal, were certainly do-able. The first half of the trip was pretty benign, with calm seas and following winds that were actually sometimes TOO light. We ended up making some course deviations to avoid areas of calms and light airs. The second half proved to be more sporty, with gnarly 6-10 foot confused seas, increased wind speeds, intermittent squalls, big rafts of sargasso weed, and a persistent rolling that made for some interesting on-board choreography. The weed put our wind vane steering device out of commission. From that point on, we had to rely on our wheel pilot.

SD soldiered steadily through it all, and passage casualties were few. One dark and windy night in mid-ocean, our boat hook abandoned ship, and the captain is decorated with an extensive assortment of very colorful bruises. All in all, not a bad tally, and we are very proud of our little ship. And very happy to disembark for a while!

Thanks to all for good wishes, prayers, and moral support. And now if you'll excuse us, there are rum punches and jerk chicken ashore with our names on them!

Cheers! K&K

Tuesday, February 10, 2015

Halfway there!

Mindful of the saying that all things come to those who wait, we waited. And waited. Finally, after cooling our heels for two weeks in lovely Lanzarote, each day hopefully studying the weather forecast, a window of fair weather appeared, and we set our departure date for January 25. We spent our shore time in prepping SD for her ocean voyage, her first since heading out into the Pacific from San Francisco almost seven years ago. Sand Dollar did a great job on that passage, particularly considering the miserably boisterous initial week, as her captain skillfully guided her through a full gale. Back then we had a lot to learn about the below-decks challenges of life spent 24/7 in perpetual motion, where sunglasses, pens, tomatoes, and other unrestrained items would fly through the cabin like shrapnel.

But having traversed thousands of sea miles since then, and sailed almost all the way around the planet, we've learned a thing or three, and we were ready for this trip. Our patience in choosing our weather window proved prudent, as we later heard sobering tales of the misfortunes experienced by some other boats that had departed earlier. One boat was dis-masted, another reported crew with cracked ribs, and a crew member on a third boat suffered a nervous breakdown due to the rough conditions. In the worst case, one boat actually sank, although thankfully her crew was rescued unharmed.

Sunday morning, January 25 dawned clear and bright, with a fair wind, and by 0945 we were clearing Puerto Calero's turning basin, headed out to sea. That first day proved to be our most boisterous, as we plowed south through 6-foot seas in 18 knots of wind from the NE, with the headsail out and one reef in the main. It was still pretty chilly at that latitude, and even in the midday sun we were layered up in long-sleeved shirts and long pants under our heavy foul-weather gear. Katie was feeling a bit queasy, but Ken and SD were having a grand old time, and by evening, conditions were moderating.

The next couple of days brought occasional spells of rough weather, but by our fourth day out, with the wind and the seas behind us, we were experiencing consistently benign conditions, with the only downside being an annoyingly persistent rolling. Sometimes conditions were TOO benign, in that our wind petered out. Our big parachute-weight spinnaker pulled us along nicely for a while, but at one point the wind died completely, leaving us becalmed on a glassy sea. Rather than prolong the passage by drifting, we motored through the night, finding a little wind again in the morning.

Light winds continued to plague us, and we altered course more to the south to take advantage of what wind we could find. Happily, the passage was proving to be quite pleasant, with bright sunny days and progressively warmer temperatures. We are now in shorts and T-shirts, we have good food and some wonderful Spanish Tempranillo wine, and for entertainment we have books, radio podcasts, and DVD's. Best of all are Ken's regular skeds (schedules) with his ham radio buddies every afternoon and evening, made all the better by the fact that not only can he hear them, they can hear him, too, and the sessions are always hilarious.

Not much to look at out here; we do find an occasional flying fish on deck, usually in advanced rigor mortis, and sometimes a group of dolphins will accompany us for a spell. One day a fleet of "by-the-wind-sailors" passed us. These little creatures, possibly related to jelly-fish, look like silver-dollar-sized discs of cellophane topped with a tiny cellophane "sail". Lately, we've been encountering big rafts of sargasso weed, whose yellow tangles keep fouling the underwater "foot" of our wind-vane. Ken keeps poking the stuff off with the boat hook, but for now we have the wheel pilot steering the boat, since the wind vane doesn't like to drive with big wad of foliage trailing behind him.

This morning marks our 17th day underway, and having reached our approximate halfway mark, we've made a right turn and are now heading due west on a course of 270 toward our destination. The forecast looks good for the immediate future, all is well aboard, and SD is moving right along like the thoroughbred she is. Next stop, the Caribbean!

Cheers and beers!
Katie & Ken

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