We went and picked Tom up at the airport on the 19th. Even the Cayman Airline operates on island time. It was over an hour late.
I haven’t seen Tom for nearly 3 decades. Fortunately we recognised each other easily and the old camaraderie was instantly there. Quite a relief. The other good thing is that Sandy felt instantly comfortable with him around too. This is particularly important when locked into the confines of a boat for extended periods.
We spent Thursday evening catching up and going over the boat. On Friday we did more of the same, checked the weather forecast, and realised that we had a good weather window for the next 4 or 5 days and should take it. It’s a long way to the Chesapeake and we are bound to have to start dodging the weather at some point. August is well into the hurricane season with September being the worst month, historically. But long before you get any named hurricanes which are the news makers, you also get severe tropical storms that are to be avoided at all costs too. They are destructive and have put many off sailing for life. We don’t need them either.
On Friday morning we did a quick supermarket trip to top up on fresh fruit and vegies for the trip. Then Tom and I went in to Customs and Port Security to find out what our options were for a departure the next day, considering it would be the weekend. It turned out we would be best off completing the clearance procedures immediately, after which we could take on fuel duty free, and we’d have 24 hours to leave.
We did the run around between Port Security, Customs and Immigration. All 3 had their own procedures and some steps had to be completed in between the next departments’ steps. A bit like cogs whose teeth have to mesh or the machine stops. But they were all pleasant and helpful.
A little aside was an epiphany while completing the customs documentation. This is the first time I’ve taken a yacht internationally, i.e. one country to another. My experience is very much the coastal sailor. I like boats, I’ve owned boats, and I sail boats. No formalities. Just check the weather and go.
Here I found myself filling in forms with crew for whom I’m responsible, and the really surreal moment was signing a document as “Master and Commander” of sailing vessel Mavournin, and another as “Captain”. (The boat’s name will be changing as soon as registration goes through) They seemed like such lofty titles for someone who just likes sailing! I looked for other, less formal options like ‘skipper’, but there weren’t any. I guess it brought home to me the fact that there is a serious side to what we’re doing.
We had to take the boat in to a concrete wharf where a fuel truck could fill our tanks. We got lines ready and motored in. This is a big boat with no bow thruster and only the second time I’ve taken her into a wharf. It went smoothly enough. She handles pretty much as expected, but as we threw the lines across we realised just how big the surge was.
Filling the 4 tanks is a fiddly job, and one that is on the ‘to do’ list to simplify once we get to Chesapeake. By the time we were done we’d actually snapped the bow line due to the heavy swell rolling in. It was a relief to power away from the wharf and head back to the safety of the mooring.
On the way we passed Frank’s boat, Another Adventure, and invited him over for a bite to eat and farewell. He would be the only cruising boat left there until he gets the best weather window to sail to Panama. As a solo sailor he would be feeling like the last kid in the playground waiting for his dad to pick him up.
The evening was a delight. Frank and Tom both have a lot more sailing experience than we do, so it was like sitting in at a Vietnam Vets’ reunion listening to the war stories going around. I guess we’ll soon have our own to contribute.
I suspect in a day or two Frank will decide to just up sails and go, and face the strong wind and big seas ahead. Heading south, he only has about 5 days to go to be out of the hurricane belt.
It took us a few hours to make sure everything was tied down, and haul up and secure the dinghy and motor.
At 11.30 we had the main sail up, started the engine, radioed Port Security for a final clearance and we were on our way.
Conditions were good so we set about getting the yankee and stays’l set and the mizzen up too. A full house! It wasn’t long before we cut the engine and were enjoying the ride. Wind over the starboard quarter at 15 knots, swell reasonably kind and 6.5 knots through the water. Even so the ride was bumpy and a trip down to the galley involved drunken spider impersonations. The bruises were mounting up.
Sandy was nervous to begin with, probably more about the idea of 4 or 5 days at sea than the immediate conditions. The first flurry of flying fish was enough to get her excited about the voyage ahead.
We worked out the shifts so Tom took the first 3 hours, Sandy took the next 2, and I took the next 3. Given this is all new for Sandy, Tom would be on call for the first hour of Sandy’s shift and I’d be for the second hour. Having 8 hour cycles works nicely because everyone gets used to their watch times.
Sandy wasn’t getting off lightly. Her shorter watches were in recognition of her meal preparation and general galley activities. We all did our own thing for breakfast and lunch, and Sandy cooked up an evening meal, usually big enough to provide for a couple of meals.
As the sun set over the sea we picked up the lights of a few distant cargo ships, and revelled in the peace of life on the water. But I’d forgotten how unnerving sailing along in the dark can be. You can’t see what the water around you is doing. After a while you do get used to it and I can understand how some people prefer night sailing.
The first night was uneventful and when I came up at midnight, halfway through Sandy’s second watch, I was amazed at how comfortably in control she was. We had a heading we needed to maintain if possible and she was tweaking the auto pilot to get the best speed and direction combinations. The chartplotter was glowing comfortably and every 20 minutes she popped her head above the doghouse for the 360 degree look around. She had a ship she was keeping an eye on and was revelling in the whole experience. Getting the lights clear in your mind (high and low whites, red and green) is a big step to feeling confident about what the other vessel is doing. She is a star pupil.
The next day we were getting a cocktail of conditions. Light air, wind shifts, strong breezes and mixed seas. We’d been lucky in catching the current north so we continued heading in the right direction and seldom dipped below 4 kts.
In the evening our speed had dropped to 1.8 kts so we decided to motor sail for a while. I warmed up the engine, put her into gear and brought it up to 1000 revs. Our speed never altered. 1250 revs. Same result. 1500 revs. No change.
This was not good. We were counting on motor sailing or just motoring from the time we rounded Cuba until we got past the bottom end of Florida and could expect wind on the beam as we headed north again.
Our first thoughts were that we’d lost the prop. It seemed strange to me because I’d been snorkelling and cleaning the prop only a week before and everything looked soundly in place.
The next question to resolve is where to head for. Depending on what conditions we found once we got past Cuba, we could head for the nearest option, Hemmingway Marina on the north coast of Cuba. The word is that it has quite good facilities and is nurturing boat clients. The downside is that the USA has a trade embargo and spares would have to be routed via the Cayman Islands or Jamaica. Also, heading into the US from Cuba could be really difficult, even denied. The fact we had a US citizen on board just compounded the problem.
The alternative was a tacking battle to windward with Key West as our destination. We’d have the current with us but the wind dead on the nose. It would most likely be short, steep seas, the kind that really hamper forward movement.
The third option if we really couldn’t make headway was to head on a long reach right up into the Gulf of Mexico to Charlotte Harbour or Tampa on the west coast of Florida.
This “Master and Commander” thing is seriously over rated.
Over the next 2 days all of these options looked like they would have to be the one.
As we came out of the lee of Cuba, and by the way we passed within 4 miles of Cabo San Antonio. In fact they called us in Cuban but we couldn’t understand. Eventually “Sailboat heading north. Please identify...”. I did and explained we had an engine problem and were on our way to Key West.” They seemed happy enough.
Once out of Cuba’s wind shadow we made reasonable headway again, but had a current pushing us north. Conditions varied enormously and now we had to make the best of whatever the gods felt like dishing out. It appeared they weren’t at all sure themselves.
On Monday night I went to put my head down for a few hours before my watch. The wind had freshened a lot and Tom had us on a good heading for Key West again. I woke up with Sandy shaking me and lightning and thunder crashing directly overhead.
“Tom wants you up in the cockpit. We may have to tack.”
I got up there and Tom was hand steering. The auto pilot couldn’t handle the storm conditions. An absolute waterfall was pouring off the doghouse roof behind him and into the back of the cockpit. The boat was plunging ahead through a choppy sea with the bit between its teeth. We were doing 8.4 kts! Tom had gusts to 35kts on the wind instruments. Not only that, but he was loving every minute of it.
Blinding lightning and ear-splitting thunder were continuous, so often you couldn’t match them up. Sometimes it was obviously right overhead.
Suddenly the wind began to ease a little and we decided to hold our course. The storm passed and everything settled back to normal. If land had been within swimming distance I think Sandy’s sailing life would be over. It was very loud and scary. The kind of thing I’d hoped we’d never be sailing through.
The next morning dawned and right on cue, three dolphins joined us. It’s as if they knew she’d need a bit of encouragement and it did the trick. Everything was back to normal and Sandy was soon saying ‘it would be so nice to just keep going...’
On Tuesday and Wednesday we continued to make ground. This boat sails surprisingly well to windward, even though at times the sea was awful. Thirty ton’s of boat gathers a lot of momentum and she was making good ground at about 50 degrees off the wind.
We actually got northwest of the Dry Tortugas and fully expected Charlotte Harbour to be our destination. A few more wind shifts and Key West was on again.
On Wednesday night we ended up with a tack that would bring us virtually to the entry channel to Key West. In the early hours we called up Customs, told them of our predicament and asked what they required of us. Basically to call them when we’re tied up and show up with our passports within 24 hours.
Then we called Towboat US and in no time we had our sails down and a tow line pulling us in. As it happens, Lobster Festival was on the go so there were no marina berths available anywhere.
We’ve ended up in a boatyard with every sad and rotting hulk in Christendom dotting the landscape around us. We’re too far from anywhere so have to get a taxi. It’s dusty and dirty. Rusty old barges are used a break walls and you can almost hear Duelling Banjos late at night.
They’re supposed to be cheap, but at $2/foot per day I think we’re being smartly ripped off. I think I’ll phone a few marinas tomorrow and see how they compare. Not that we can get there!
But our first voyage was a great success, even though I’m more convinced than ever that we have to make some serious changes to the sail handling if this is ever to be a boat for a couple to handle.
On the other hand Customs and Immigration have informed us that because Cayman Islands is considered to be a neighbouring island, I guess Cuba doesn't officially exist, our trip there didn't restart the clock on our 90 days entry allowance. We have to be out of the USA by next Monday!
After many phone calls and discussions with a bunch of computers, we have an appointment for the same Monday with an official in Miami where we plan to ask for an extension based on the engine repairs and having to get the boat out of the hurricane belt. It's about a 3-4 hour drive from here. We'll either have to hire a car, or if the boat is ready by Friday we could sail there in time for Monday.
Life is not at all straight forward. right now.
And the transmission?
That’s too painful a tale to tell right now.
Maybe tomorrow.
Until then...