After topping up the portside fuel tank, we had a quick lunch, as I was hot to trot.
THe Wonderful Town of La Restinga
As we pulled away from the dock of this peaceful little town, I already knew I would miss it once in the Caribbean. As we came around the protective wall of the harbor, I gave one long blast on the horn, to warn any boats entering that we were leaving and as our way of saying goodbye to a place we really liked.
One long horn blast means “attention” as in pay attention, I’m doing something you may not be able to see. Last year in the Baltic, I noticed that the Germans always gave a long blast when entering a harbor. Just like in the Canaries, most of the harbors have a tall jetty to protect them from the waves, but it also hides boats coming in or out. Thus, the warning.
The Island of El Hierro We say goodbye to 2+ years in Europe
As we settled into our course 258°, the winds were from 120° at 15 knots, thus we had winds and waves from our port side quarter panel. Not the best, but it could be worse. After just a few minutes, I realized we needed to deploy at least one bird to cut the rolling which had increased to ±15°. That’s a lot.
With one bird in the water, I speed was only reduced by about 0.5 knots, but 2/3s of the roll was gone.
As I watched the sea, I also realized we had a large, 10 foot plus swell coming from the west with a period of about 10 seconds. Not too bad, but not helpful either.
The 1st on many Sunsets at Sea
Over the next 24 hours’ conditions remained exactly the same.
Weather data at the end of the first day. I am also recalibrating water tank fill as we use water maker
I remember writing the above.
The last words I wrote for 20 days. Umm, I wonder why? Barbados? Stay tuned.
Four days on the North Atlantic, 600 nm, four days, 1 hour, 35 minutes, what could go wrong?
Dauntless is ready to Leave Morocco
For one, we found the weak link on this Krogen, it’s me.
In my first year of cruising, I would get sea sick maybe a ¼ of the time. Now in my third year, it’s more like ¾.
What’s changed? Who knows? I’m older, but usually one’s body becomes more adapted. No, I think the problem is in my brain.
When conditions are rough, I know to take a remedy or put on the Scopolamine patch. Now the patch gives me a bad rash, something it did not do a couple years ago, but it’s also very effective as long as I put it on the night
Sunset over the Atlantic
before departure.
With nice cruising conditions, or I should say, relatively nice, winds and seas less than 15 knots and 3 feet (1m), respectively. In the past I never had to worry, now, if the slightest unexpected event happens, I get seasick.
Grand Canaria comes into sight
This last episode was one of the worst I’ve ever had. But I’m not 100% sure it’s “seasickness”. It’s more like my body gets a whole load of adrenaline and then when crisis is over, my body doesn’t know what to do.
Monday, the 28th, Day 1 of 4. It was great to get underway again. Having an extra week in Morocco was not needed. The Moroccans are lovely people though and even that morning the Pilot asked me if I wanted to go out with them that morning to check the inlet. I’m always up for an adventure, so of course I went. The winds had finally died down, so I was a bit surpised to see 6 to 8 foot waves at the inlet. But they were not higher, so they declared the port open.
Grand Canaries
That started the whole customs, police and immigration process. Basically, just like checking in, you leave your berth, go to the designated dock and all the above come visit. It took us about an hour to check in 3 weeks earlier, and it took about an hour to check out. If that seems like a lot, you should know that in southern Spain and all of Portugal, it always seemed to take half an hour. (the difference between northern Europe, including northern Spain and southern Europe is like night and day; it’s mind boggling).
So, Day 1 started out with our checking out. The customs or immigration lady, who checked us in with her team of three others, checked us hot. Must say, she was the hottest officer I have ever seen. But she was all business, all the time. If you have ever been to the Soviet Union, you can picture what I mean.
The process, though time consuming, was easy and extremely convenient. As we pulled away from the dock, we waved at everyone and headed to the inlet.
Those steep inlet waves test that everything on the boat is stored securely and all was so we headed southwest along the coast of Morocco. While the winds from the south were light, there was an Atlantic swell of 8 to 10 feet, with an 8 to 10 second period. Not bad, but it necessitated us having the paravanes out with the two birds in the
Las Palmas
water.
Day 1 ended after 24 hours and we did 133 nm.
Day 2 (starting Tuesday at 14:35, the second 24-hour period) started the same, light SE winds, but became stronger through the entire period. Finally, at the 47-hour point, mid-afternoon on Wednesday, the winds had increased to 25 knots. With our southwesterly course, this meant they were off our bow. This makes the course untenable as we end up burning fuel to go slower and slower, all the while pitching up and down like one of those mechanical bulls!
Our initial destination had been the Canary Island, Fuerteventura, but with these strong SE winds, we needed to head more west, like 240 degrees. Thus, our new destination became Las Palmas, on the island of Gran Canarias.
So, Day 2, 150nm, (the second 24-hour period) ended with us headed 240 degrees, with winds 160 at 21 knots gusts to 25, producing seas from the south of 4 to 8 feet.
The paravanes work most effectively with seas on the beam, so our ride was actually not so bad with a gentle rolling of 8 degrees to the lee side and 4 degrees to the windward side.
Two hours into Day 3 (Thursday, 16:50), I was in the galley, when I felt the boat motion change. I looked out the salon window to see the windward paravanes bird being dragged on top of the water, clearly broken.
At first I was really calm about it. I finished filling my water bottle. Then went to stop the boat, retrieve the pole and bird. Dauntless is quite tame when not underway, in other words, she rolls much more underway w=then when dead in the water. So, there was no big crisis.
The two spare birds are stored in the lazerette. The one that broke had been repaired in Ireland, as it had previously broken crossing the North Sea. So, I wasn’t too worried as to the cause. But as we tried to get the bird out of the lazerette, the fin of the bird became lodged under the generator exhaust hose. And the more stuck it became; the more stressed I became. I didn’t like the idea of leaving it as it, so close to the hydraulic rudder piston, but after 5 minutes of trying dislodge it, I gave up, took the bins out of the other side and got the other bird that was stored on the other side of the lazerette.
It took just another minute to replace the broken one and we were underway again, finally 20 minutes later, having spent more than half that time, trying to get the one bird out.
Underway again, all was good, but I was feeling very strange. I had to change my clothes, since I spray everything in the lazerette with various WD-40 products. After changing my clothes, I figured a shower would help. I felt very hot. I shower quickly, figuring that cooling off would make me feel better, but now, I can’t dry myself. It was a bizarre feeling. I didn’t seem able to stand or move.
I tell Micah that I will join him momentarily, figuring if I just relax for a few minutes all will be fine. As I am now sitting on my bed, still sort of wet. I finish drying myself, realize I need to rest, but want to walk around the boat, make sure all is OK. As I go to put on my shirt, I became violently ill. First time that’s happened in years, even though, I get sea sick a lot and have that miserable nauseous feeling, I don’t throw up. This time I did.
I realized I can do nothing physical. I tell Micah to make sure everything looks OK and I needed to nap.
I do and three hours later, I am up and OK.
Winds were weakening, but the westerly swell was still there, so we kept the birds in the water. Finally, when I came on watch at 04:00, I decided to pull the birds to make some time (the birds cost about 1 knot of speed).
Day 3 ends, 147 nm, with the winds SE at 10 knots and we’ve been making 6 to 7 knots the whole time.
Day 4 starts with me adding a quart of oil to the engine while underway. It had been 72 hours and the Ford Lehman uses about a quart every 50 to 60 hours. Winds of 10 knots or less allowed us to run without the paravanes for most of the period, but by early morning, the roll had increased to an annoying level. Our course had been 232 for the last 20 hours and the winds were now 210 at 10 kts, and the seas 210 with 3 to 6 foot waves. This meant we were now heading into them, but with 40 miles still to go, there was not much we could do. The waves were also causing an annoying corkscrew motion, a combination of pitch and roll, so I decided to put one bird, the windward bird, in the water.
This past year, since leaving Ireland, I have on a number of occasions, put only the windward paravanes bird in the water. It still is 80% as effective as both birds, but it reduced our speed a little less, 0.7 knots, versus 1 to 1.2 for both.
And that’s how our passage from Rabat to the Canaries ended. We pulled up just a mile from the harbor, pulled the bird and we entered the Puerto Deportivo De Las Palmas on Friday at 15:26.
Day 4, 167 nm, 25 hours, 35 minutes, average speed 6.5 knots.
Total for trip: 598 nm, 4 days, 1 hours, 35 minute, average speed 6.2 knots
Providence Rhode Island to Castletownbere, Ireland:
Morning of the Last Day
3624 nm, 6523 km.;
638 running hours
Average speed 5.7 knots
1013 gallons of fuel consumed
Average = 1.59 gal/hr.
Average 3.6 nm/gal= 1.7 km/liter
Cost of fuel $4000
Cost per nm = $1.1/nm
Stuff that broke: Four Stories and lessons Learned
The Bent Stabilizer Pole Saga
The Mast Cleat Adventure
The Auxiliary Water Pump Sediment Filter Hijinx
Water in Fuel Tanks: Not Pretty; But the Lehman keeps on Going
Other Lessons learned
Evening of the 27th, the Storm Intensifies Again The Past 4 Days of Pitch and Roll
Food and Provisioning
Route Planning and Execution
Organization and Storage of Spare Parts
Odd and Ends
Solo Voyaging
Equipment: Must-haves, Nice-to-Haves
The crux of a successful ocean passage
I first wrote this “Post Mortem” 8 days after the end of our passage, but never published it because I realized it had morphed into many things. Thus there will soon follow a post titled, “Finding the Right Boat” and “Weather or Not”, where I talk about how to, and how not to, use a weather forecast.
Our successful ocean passage was the culmination of a planning process that started 6 years earlier and four years before we even had a boat. The success was due two major things: finding the right boat and having the right attitude. Having the right boat protects fools and drunks. Having the right attitude means you know what to except, from the best to the worst. If your plan is to call the Coast Guard under the “worst” circumstances, stay home.
During the worst of it, while I was miserable, I was not afraid. I knew the Krogen could handle it and even realized she can handle much worse.
Afternoon of the Last Day
The planning and learning process is key to a successful passage. As I had read virtually every account of small boats crossing oceans and books and stories of freighters throughout the 20th Century, I had a good sense as to what worked and what didn’t. That can’t be overstated because it speaks to our vision and that’s the first step of a successful passage. So this trip really started seven years ago, before I knew of Kadey Krogen, trawlers, or really anything.
But first, our passage is really not that special. People have done the same thing in in smaller boats, in far worse conditions, with many more handicaps. Almost everything I have learned and talk about, I first read someplace else, by someone with far more experience than I will ever have. Just remember that Columbus did the round trip more than 500 years ago, with three boats that were only 10’ to 17’ longer than Dauntless.
If you’re reading this, you probably read the details of the trip as it happened, or soon thereafter. So for this entry, I’m going to talk about what we learned in hindsight for the next ocean passage.
Stuff that broke: Three Stories and Lessons Learned
The Bent Stabilizer Pole Saga:
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An operator-induced failure.
Only a day after I left Miami with the new paravanes, while I adjusted the fore stays, I had also adjusted the up-down stays, Amsteel Blue 3/8”, which take the vertical loads of the paravane fish. I had not fully locked them tight on the horn of the cleat upon completion. I probably thought I would re-adjust them once more and then simply forgot. So, while they were wrapped in a figure 8 three times on the cleat on the mast, I had not “locked” it on the horn. Amsteel Blue is slippery enough that if not locked securely with at least 3 or 4 half hitches, they will get loose.
And that’s what happened. The Figure 8 got loose, thus letting the pole swing from its position of 45° to almost straight down, 170°. The rub rail, stopping the pole from facing straight down. This put a kink in the pole where it bent around the rub rail. Not a bad bend, but just enough to significantly weaken the pole. In trying to get the pole back to its original position, I took out the retaining bolt that would keep the pole in its cup that is attached to the gunnel. But I still couldn’t get the pole out, so I eventually got it back to position, but now, the retaining bolt was not in place. I knew it wasn’t needed because all the force on the pole is into the cup, not outward, but months later, it did contribute, if not cause the pole to subsequently bend into an “L” shape.
So on the last day of the trip during one big roll within 60 miles of Ireland, the same windward pole went vertical. However, the kink in the pole, even though very slight, allowed the paravane bird to put a force on the pole that rotated the pole 90° with the absence of the retaining bolt, so that the kink now faced aft. As soon as that happened, the force the bird put on the pole bent the pole 90°, and of course, now this allowed the pole to come out of the cup, making its retrieval even harder.
An hour later, after sitting dead in the water for that time, I had managed to get the pole up on deck. In my adrenaline rush, I never noticed how well the boat handled being left on its own, wallowing in the seas with its beam to the seas, which were running 8 to 15 feet at that time. In hindsight, we were bobbing in the ocean, with less roll than when underway.
Lesson Learned:
Replace bent stuff and all hardware before leaving on an ocean passage.
John Duffy, who had rigged the paravane system, told me to replace it, as the bend would significantly weaken it. I also probably did not mention that I had taken the retaining bolt out and had not replaced it, as the pole had rotated slightly, not allowing the bolt to be re-inserted.
The pole was replaced in Castletwonbere for 300 Euros. All the hardware is back in place.
The Mast Cleat Adventure:
A day out of Nova Scotia, as we sat in the Pilot House enjoying the world go by our living room window, we heard a noise that sounded like a gun shot. Knowing that no one on board was packin,’ I looked at the mast and saw immediately that the cleat holding the up-down line was now horizontal instead of vertical.
We chopped power to relieve the strain and I ran up to the fly bridge, though taking the time to put on my PFD (Personal Flotation Device, a life preserver). One of the two 3/8” bolts attaching the cleat to the mast had broken. Not wanting to spend a lot of time to try to re-attach the cleat, I tied the up-down line around the mast in a number of clove hitches and then tied it off to the other mast cleat. This way, much of the force on the line, instead of being transmitted to the cleat, would now be manifested in trying to squeeze the mast.
Lesson Learned:
This new system worked so well that while in Horta, I redid both up-down lines, so that they came to a three clove hitches around the mast, before being tied off on the cleat, with a final half hitch on the horn of the cleat for each line.
John Duffy in Miami designed and installed a great paravane stabilization system, which is not only relatively light-weight, but also easily adjustable and cost-effective.
While in Ireland, I also added one more feature: I had had another winch installed in Florida to assist in retrieving the paravanes. In Ireland, I also replaced the lines on the winch with 3/16” Amsteel Blue lines that I had gotten, 300 feet at a really bargain price from Parks, of Hopkins- Carter in Miami. By using this new, stronger line, it added an extra margin of safety, because it is strong enough to hold the paravanes while underway should I have a failure of the up-down line as described above. It would also allow me to retrieve the paravanes, even if the boat is not at a full standstill. This would be fast and useful, in case of emergency.
This was the first and last time I put on the PFD on this passage.
The Auxiliary Water Pump Sediment Filter Highjinx
Another operator-induced problem.
After the failure, a few days from the Azores, the pressure switch failed. After screwing with the pump for a while, I just bypassed the pressure switch and the pump went back to work. A day later the entire pump gave up the ghost. I discovered by reading the instruction manual that I had installed the pump upside down, with the electrical parts under the pump itself. Evidently, you should not do that because if the pump has minor leaks, it gets into the electronics right away.
Lesson Learned:
It behooves one to read installation instructions before the fact, not after.
THe Previous 12 Hours of rockin and rollin Before Arrival. The Scale is 24° to Each Side
Water in Fuel Tanks: Not Pretty; But the Lehman keeps on Going
On the Left,Taken from the Stbd Side Fuel Tank, a Mixture of Water and Emulsified Water and Fuel. On the Right, Fuel from the Port Tank
I have finally deduced that the water, around 5 gallons, got into the starboard fuel tank during the last 36 hours of the trip thru the fuel vent line. How do I know this? After I replaced the O-rings of the fuel caps, while the old rings were worn, there is no way a significant amount of water could have entered that way. In addition, the water was only in the starboard, lee side tank.
Up until this time, Dauntless had been in seas almost as rough, though not for this extended length of time. But even if only for 8 hours, no water had ever entered the tank before in our previous 2000! hours of cruising.
What was different this time?
A much longer time of seas on the beam, three and a half full days, with 54 out of 72 hours, being in large 15+ foot waves.
The last 12 hours, with the failure of the windward paravane pole, the boat remained heeled over to port for a longer period of time, as the recovery was slower.
While all the above was going on, for reasons that were just chance, I had been running on the port (windward) tank, which was now near empty, thus for the last 2 days of the passage, we were feeding off the port (lee) side tank.
Thus, just when the port tank was being used, the boat was heeling more to port, thus keeping the fuel vent which is at deck level under water for a significant portion of time.
My Conclusion:
The lee side tank sucked in the water thru the fuel vent. Had I been using the other tank, in all likelihood, this would not have occurred.
After Arrival. I also Changed the Scale to 32°, so This shows my Last 12 Hours of the Passage. Sorry for the poor quality. I was shaken, but not stirred.
I will move the fuel vent hose, so that this can never happen again.
In addition, I will make it a practice to use the windward tank under such conditions. I could have easily transferred fuel to the starboard tank while underway. It was just chance that I had filled the starboard tank in Horta and I therefore used that fuel first, since I knew my fuel in the port tank was good.
Other Lessons Learned
Food and Provisioning:
Maybe from reading too many books written by frugal sailors, my provisioning could have been better. I had too many things I don’t eat, like rice and beans, and not enough of what I do eat. I still have enough calories on Dauntless to feed a family in Africa for 2 years. No, I do not really know what I was thinking.
We should have had a bit more lettuce. Romaine lettuce in those packages of three lasts for a few weeks in fridge.
Eggs. Julie likes eggs. I forgot she really likes eggs.
Mayonnaise, to make egg salad with all those eggs. I like egg salad.
Route Planning and Execution:
Good job with planning. Very poor execution.
Not having the paravane stabilizers for the first 3,000 miles of cruising with Dauntless made me very sensitive to the direction of winds and waves. The Krogen handles following seas exceedingly well. Thus I carried that mentality with me on this passage. I made too much of an effort to keep the seas behind us and off the beam, thus our northeasterly course leaving Cape Cod and our southeasterly course leaving Nova Scotia.
In hindsight, it was an overreaction in both cases. That continued with my solo voyage from Horta, with the zigzag of day three, first NW, then SE then after 24 hours of stupidness, northward.
In the future, I will let the paravanes do their job and keep a course more directly (great circle route) to our destination. In fact, while I did not record the data, my feeling now is that the rolling of Dauntless is about the same with the paravanes, whether the sea is following or on the beam. Without the paravanes, there is a night and day difference.
Organization and Storage of Spare Parts:
I’m grateful that I didn’t need to use any spare parts. But the haste in which we left, meant we obtained a lot of stuff at the last minute. It was put away, with only a general idea of what was where. Had I needed anything, I would have found it eventually, maybe even by the time, the westerly winds pushed us all the way to Europe, a month or two later. At least I would not have starved.
This winter has been spent re-packing virtually all parts and tools. In addition I have a written inventory, with location, storage bin, model numbers etc. Before the next passage, it will even be computerized.
How did I decide what spare parts to take or not?
This turns out to be relatively easy. I picked those parts I could both afford and could replace myself. So, we had an extra starter, even though i had no intention to ever turn off the engine. We had an extra alternator. i did not have a spare injector pump, too expensive. Except for the fuel injector pump, I had all the other external engine stuff: injector tubes, hoses, belts, lift pump, etc. We had extra hoses, belts, etc for every critical component. Therefore, we had nothing extra for the generator, since I don’t use it underway. We had no internal engine parts, pistons, etc, becuase while I could probably replace it while docked, it was not something I could see myself replacing underway. But also, that is not a typical failure point of the engine. Internal stuff usually shows signs of wear for a long time before failure.
Odds and ends:
If I have not talked about it above, we ain’t changing it.
That means stuff like the DeLorme InReach will not be changed. We like the limitations that system imposes. I don’t need to call mom when the shit hits the fan.
Probably will add some redundancy to the ComNav Autopilot. Unlike a sail boat, we cannot tie the wheel and expect to go in any semblance of a straight line; I tried.
One of my issues has always been that in a seaway, there can be no noise of moving objects in the boat. Moving things can cause damage in and of themselves, and must be controlled. So, even at 40° of roll, every few minutes, during the worst of it, I heard no crashing or banging of stuff. Everything must be secure.
Need more recorded movies and Korean Dramas. They really help to pass the time. Yes, one can tire of just reading. When I was alone, I got really bored.
On the other hand, I did back in to computer card games. Bridge in particular, yes, I am of a generation that learned bridge.
Solo Voyaging
I hope to never do another 10 day passage alone again. But I will if I have to.
Having said that, the next passage next year, will be part of a much longer voyage and we will be pretty much under way for 18 months. With Julie working, I will need a lot more help during the many segments the trip will entail. I will put it out there on Trawler Forum seeking those who want to be a part of the experience and maybe even share some expenses and I’m sure some shenanigans.
Must-haves, Nice-to-Haves
Must Have
Nice to have
Paravane Stabilizers
Four 110W Solar Panels and two Controllers
Lexan Storm Windows
Coastal Explorer
C-Map North Atlantic and Western Europe Charts
Boat computer and router
Digital Yacht AIS Transceiver
Master’s License
Katadyn 160 Water maker
Vitrifrigo Freezer and Refrigerator
Delorme InReach text only sat phone
Splendid Vented Washer/Dryer Combo
Spare parts for the Ford Lehman SP135 Engine
Other Spare parts
Revere Off Shore Commander 4 person Life raft
Here are a few more pictures and videos. The file name incorporates the date time the file was recorded, thus 20140827_1927 means it was recorded 27 Aug 2014 at 19:27 (7:27 p.m.) hours.
I just got back to NY last week, but I have been somewhat discombobulated, in that I have not had my laptop computer because we had a little accident.
It’s dark; it’s 05:15 a.m., the Dublin bus leaves at 5:30. I’m hurrying; suitcase is top heavy, because I put all my electronics in the top compartment, for easy removal at the airport.
It’s dark; I lean over the rail of Dauntless to stand the suitcase on the dock. I let go and am stunned to see it topple over into the River Suir. I jump off the boat onto dock, get on my knees, not worrying about my suit and fish the suitcase out of the water before it gets carried downstream in the swift current and floats off into the Atlantic.
I was pleased it hadn’t sunk and was not in the water more than 10 seconds.
Hopeful that my electronics had not gotten wet, laptop, tablet, Kindle and iPod, I didn’t have time to check as I had to literally run to catch the bus to Dublin. Only 500 meters, so the driver was able to see me scurrying up the last block, so he waited and I boarded the almost empty bus.
This was the milk run, taking an hour and half longer than the direct run, but finally, four hours later, at the airport, I open my suitcase.
Well, there were no fish inside, but everything was wetter than I had expected, though not dripping water, just wet, but not dripping water 🙂 I wiped everything dry and hoped for the best.
I was hopeful all would be OK.
When I got home to NYC, I let everything dry for two days before attempting to power up.
Wrong, right, wrong, almost wrong.
The laptop is still away having the mother board replaced. $200.
The tablet was fine.
The iPod needed a new hard drive $59 and then it took me a full day to get it to sync (I had to re-index the music files).
The Kindle took another three days to recover, but was then OK.
So, my lesson learned, even packed away, I will pack all electronics devices in plastic bags from now on.
But I must say, having crossed the Atlantic has changed my perspective of everything.
Incidents like this that would have caused all sorts of major anguish in the past, due to my own stupidity, are now just minor annoyances.
And for all those four hours on the bus to Dublin, I thanked the Fates for getting me to Ireland safe and sound, for landing me in such a nice land with wonderful, friendly people, like the bus driver who waited for me, which is so typical of the people in Ireland and lastly, I was thankful that the stupid bag hadn’t sunk or otherwise been swept away.
Basically, I’m much less hard on myself.
Life is Good and I can’t wait to get back on the water.
Julie and I presented an account of our Atlantic Passage to over 150 Krogen owners this past Saturday at the Krogen Rendezvous. This was the first presentation we’ve ever done of our passage and it was really well received. A bunch of folks asked me where else we were presenting and at this point, the answer is nowhere because no one has asked us yet. I’m definitely going to look for more opportunities because I like sharing how possible this is in an older boat on a limited budget.
Besides talking about our preparation, and all the books we read, here are some highlights:
Q: What is the age of Dauntless?
A: 1988, 27 years old. [Audience gasp. This reaction surprised me because it never occurred to me the age of the boat would be an issue; I just thought it was about the condition.]
Q: Did you change the oil?
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A: No! I wasn’t to stop the engine in the middle of the ocean for no stinkin’ oil change.
Q: Did you ever turn off the engine?
A: Not on purpose. [Then I went into a five-minute recount of all my shenanigans with changing the fuel filters and closing valves that should be open, and vice versa, which resulted in me killing the engine, twice!]
Q: Could you check the amount of oil you had with the engine running?
A: I had read on Trawler Forum that I may be able to check the oil level while running. Well, all I could tell was that there was some amount of oil in there, but it was not possible to get a reading. Therefore, I knew the oil consumption in the past was a quart of oil every 50-70 hours, so I just added 2 quarts every few days whether it needed it or not. When I did turn off the engine when we arrived in the Azores, the oil level was exactly where I expected it to be.
Q: What would you do differently in hindsight?
There is virtually nothing significant we would have done differently. The actual route we took is one issue, but as I rethink the rationale for the route we took, it still seems it was the best option given the ice conditions east and south of St. John’s NF. I’m disappointed we never got to see an iceberg and as our start date got pushed back to late July, maybe we should have tried to make St. John’s. In hindsight though, I was not that sure enough of the fuel consumption and Julie had a deadline to get back to work, so the Azores were still the best answer, even if it added 5 days to the passage. It does seem that had I been able to stay on the great circle route, topping up the tanks in Halifax would have allowed me to get to Ireland direct. Umm, next time.
A last thought on pictures and video from the trip: Being back in NY, having the Krogen Presentation to do and finally having fast, reliable internet connection allowed me to finally sort through the 1200 pictures and 130 videos we had taken during the trip.
While there are some really nice pictures, especially of sunsets and sunrises, I now wish I had been more meticulous in making some quality pictures and videos that told their own story each day in a systematic manner.
A note about the videos. The file date is basically the date time stamp of when it was recorded, thus, 20140728_201731 means it was recorded on July 28th, at 20:17 hours. This was on Eastern Daylight Time until the Azores at which point I changed it to GMT (which was local time).
Also the quality is not the best, but rather than not show post them, I thought they still depict the conditions and give a good day to day story of conditions.
And I’m sick. Just a cold that I felt coming on last week, but I had been feeling better and I needed to take advantage of being next to the dock and wall (instead of being rafted to fishing boats) so that I could rig the new paravane pole. It also allowed me to complete the re-rigging of the smaller lines on the winch that pull the birds and the poles up. It’s now a very easy system to deploy and retrieve when I am alone.
My first morning in Waterford, my winter quarters, somewhat nicer and warmer than Washington’s winter in Valley Forge and I probably have enough food and calories on this boat to feed a family in Africa for a year, an extended family!
It’s one of those typical northern European fall/winter day, a stale gray sky with light rain and drizzle. Probably good for me, makes me rest, as on sunny days, I have this primordial urge to hunt & gather. So instead I’m watching last night’s Jet’s game. God, they are pathetic. The poster child of what it looks like when you have an owner who cares more about appearances than winning. In other words, they make terrible choices, but instead of dealing with it, they keep on telling everyone how smart they are and there is no problem; simply ignoring the fact that the data (their record) says differently. If you refuse to reflect and admit mistakes, there is not much chance of improvement. Much like Obama, who seems to be re-inventing the Vietnam War in Syria? I wonder if he has even read books about the War. It’s the ultimate folly and hubris to think you can to run a war from the White House. All it does is annoy the enemy and get Americans killed for no reason. The Iran rescue attempt was also run from the White House. Yes, that failure still rankles me to this day. OK. Basta.
Waterford Viking Tower
I’m hoping to have Wi-Fi at some point, it will make getting my laptop online much easier and it the main reason I have not posted more in the last two weeks. I’ll just have to make a better effort to diagnose my phones hotspot issue.
I’m also finishing the Post Mortem for the Atlantic Passage. It’s a bit wordy, so it needs some editing. In the near future there are a number of issues: the Electro Scan system is having issues with the mix motor and long term, I must find and install a diesel forced air heater.
Having spent the last three weeks in fishing harbors, Castletwonbere and Dunmore East, has been really a wonderful experience for me. Ireland has five official fishing ports, and those are two of them. I’ve been tied to fishing boats most of that time and the fishermen have been great.
We Fit Right In
You can see in some of the photos I’ve posted the similarity between this Krogen 42 and the fishing boats. In fact, almost identical lines. I had not noticed this before in the U.S., but here is was obvious. Clearly a primary reason Dauntless is so salty and as I reflect on the passage, as uncomfortable I was at times, Dauntless was in her element and could have taken far more.
In the short time I’ve been in Ireland, I have met so many great people, interested in our passage and clearly these are communities tied to the water. Even yesterday, the person who came to fuel my boat (2400 liters, 631 U.S. gallons) loved the look of the Krogen and took many pictures of her. Now being in Waterford, this will be a little different experience. No fishing boats and we’re right downtown, I ‘m currently tied adjacent to the Viking Tower. Looking out my salon window, instead of tremendous waves, I see a mud flat between the dock and the City wall. The tidal range here is 11 to 12’. Dauntless has only 2 feet of water under her keel at low tide. The river we’re on, the River Suir, is the fastest running river in all of Europe, but it’s really a tidal estuary, but I didn’t feel the need bring that up, as I was being told about the river. I like being in river like this, as it means far less likely hood of freezing and it’s in constant flush mode.
Waterford Spire
I finally was able to recalibrate the Victron system, thanks to the help of a Victron Product Manager I met at the Amsterdam boat show. This system monitors all the current (electricity) going into and out of the batteries. It’s important to monitor because whenever the boat is not running the engine or generator (which I try to seldom use) all the power is provided by the batteries, so it critical to know how much power has been taken out of them, to a maintain long term battery health. It would be over $1,000 to replace the batteries, so I want them to last quite a few more years.
OK, let me go see if I can find hydrochloric acid for the Electro Scan and not be arrested for terroristic intentions.
Its midnight, a little more than 25 hours to go, and I see that the starboard Racor is full of crap, I switch to the Port Racor and return to the pilot house to contemplate my next moves.
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2 Days of Rolling Data
The wind had stayed steady at SW at 30 kts. I was getting used to the roll, 20° in one direction, 30° in the other, certainly the biggest rolls I’ve ever seen since having the paravanes. I needed to sleep. I reasoned that the engine was running, the Racor had done its job, and by switching to the new Racor, I reckoned it should last at worst till morning, but more than likely till my destination, only 25 hours away.
I must have gotten pretty good rest, as there are no log entries from midnight, when I switched to port Racor until 07:00 when I recorded our position and noted, “Last night for a while” . I was ready for this to end, but, like March, it was going to go out like a lion. My roll “telltale” had the biggest roll to one side overnight as 23° Not so bad. I decided to use this relatively quiet period to change the Racors and FP filters, all three.
At 7:20, I wrote in the log 7:20, with nothing else. I must have been tired, but I assume that’s when I went to change Racors, as next log entry was at 08:10 when I wrote underway again, changed all 3 Racors. The key there was underway again.
Usually I can now change all three in 15 minutes with the engine running. This took 40, as we had some drama. FP filter and right side filter were done quickly, but in priming the filter, the shenanigans began. When I first turned on fuel pump to prime right side filter, nothing happened, because it was turned off, remember I was running on left side filter. Now in hindsight, I see what I should have done, but if wishes were horses, …
But instead I opened the two valves around pump, leaving the third one open. In this configuration, the fuel pump is pumping fuel, but only in a little circle, while it laughs at me for giving it such easy work. Ok, got it, switch to right filter, close gravity feed, prime filter, it’s done and engine is still running. Pump off, gravity feed on.
Now to the left side filter. Drain, open, remove old filter, new in, all in one minute, now to prime, change engine to this filter as I turn on pump, but gravity feed is still open. So nothing happens in filter and it doesn’t fill. Engine starts to slow down, I know I only have seconds left to solve this before I kill engine in 10 foot seas.
As I turn the red handle of the gravity feed to off, so pump can fill filter and feed engine, the engine dies.
Crap. I vowed never to let this happen and it does. OK. Now being alone is a PIA, as I must leave engine room to start engine. I figure, OK, at least I can now take my time and finish job. I prime filter, turn off pump, close valves and scamper up stairs to salon and the pilot house.
Start engine. It sounds so sweet as it runs for about 10 seconds and then dies. Walk, Don’t Run, back to engine room, sit next to engine, what did I do wrong?
I have it! I let air get to engine mounted fuel filters (there are two in series right after the mechanical lift pump (fuel pump that “lifts” fuel from near bottom of engine to top of engine). The BIG lesson here is ALWAYS check similiest solutions first. (At times, I think I don’t check the simple solution first, because it can’t be that easy.)
So, all I need to do is bleed these engine mounted filters. Easy, the box end wrench is hanging right here just for this occasion (all the wrenches needed for all these jobs are hanging right there). I loosen both bleed screws (yes, book says one at a time, but I’m in a hurry).
Turn on pump, nothing. Look frantically around. See all three valves are closed, duh, open the two for the pump and turn on switch, as at that same moment, I realize I did not have to open bleed screws as all three valves were closed, in other words, nothing was open for the engine.
In the one second for that realization to hit home, the fuel is getting to the bleed screws and spraying fuel all over the hot engine. I turn off pump, reset all valves to their correct positons and get my oil soak cloths and start wiping away. I’m not that concerned, because I have not found any place on the top of the engine that is ever above 200°F and besides, if you think this is the first time I’ve done fiasco, you have another think coming.
I wipe down everything, also Racors, where I made a mess thinking they were the problem and finally at 8:19 I’m up at the wheel starting the engine again. This time it starts running, but clearly not well, but I also recognize this and know that with a little throttle, all will be fine in 20 seconds.
I’m underway again at 8:20.
Interestingly enough, even with the waves and seas, I did not seem to notice how well the Krogen handled sitting in the middle of the ocean bobbin away. Too much in crisis mode and not observation mode I suppose.
Three hours later, I check the fuel filters again and am dismayed at the amount of crap the filters are picking up, I change the FP and the port filter again. This time with no drama.
A new issue, the bilge pump has gone off 250 times in the last 24 hours. Usually it goes off 10 times, in rough weather maybe 20 to 30 times, if my stuffing box is really leaking, I’ve seen 180 times, but never this many. Now the rolling had increased to almost 20° and 30° in each direction, a delta of 50° (certainly a new record for me) and the decks were wet with water flooding in the scuppers, with the starboard deck sometimes having water flood over the cap rail (another first for me).
There are no obvious leaks anywhere either in the engine room or in the cabin, so I decide not to worry about it, since there is no obvious solution. Like the Racors, the bilge pump is doing its job.
A couple of hours later, the last act of this drama. I hear a thump, not loud, look to port and see no paravanes pole. Bad. Engine at idle and neutral, I find the top of the pole near the stern of the boat, being held there by its foreguy.
It takes me half an hour to get it out of the water and tied to the fly deck, because I have to run all over the place, loosen that line, pull here, tighten that line, pull there. Three times I have to come off the fly bridge just to rotate the pole that is hung up on the rub rail.
Also, with all the adrenaline surging thru my veins, I did not really notice how well dauntless was behaving just bobbin up and down, with really not much roll.
So I tried running without the paravanes out. My course was due north, and the winds and seas were from the southwest to west. At this point I was going to Ireland or else. Having people meeting me there was really encouraging at this point I did not want to go anywhere else.
Therefore the course we had was the course we were going to travel. Without paravanes out, it was the Dauntless of old and this course was not possible. Umm, the boat would have been fine, but not me.
So, I put the starboard pole and bird back out, not bad, not bad at all I think, but as time passed, I realized the starboard side was taking water over the rail almost constantly, since when D rolled to the right, the roll was deeper without the port bird to slow it down, but then the boat stayed longer in the starboard heeled position, allowing the next wave to essentially push Dauntless into the side of the wave as it rolled under the boat. At one point, I had two feet of water sloshing around the cockpit and side deck.
That wasn’t going to work either. I then returned to the fly bridge, to untie the bird from the top of the pole. I spent way too much time doing that and in the meantime, this caused my scariest moment of the entire passage to date. The boat underway was rolling a lot. It did not occur to me to stop the boat because my little brain was more afraid of broaching than anything else. Now you are thinking, didn’t he just talk about how little the boat rolled lying a hull, just in the paragraph above?
And the answer is YES, of course I did. But at the time, doing something and reflecting on it are two different actions, but pretty much no learning takes place without that reflection. I was too much in crisis mode to reflect on anything. So with me up on the fly bridge, I’m really seeing how big these waves are. Some are clearly at my eye level, maybe 16 feet above sea level. And they are hitting the boat on its beam. The first time the boat rolled and I’m hanging on for dear life up there, I was a bit nervous. It felt like we were over 80°, by telltale later told me it was only 38°
But again, once me and D had survived the first roll, I realized it wasn’t that bad, in fact, I just stayed seated on the port bench, bracing myself with my foot on the helm chair, as the boat rolled.
Finally I get the knot undone and I decide to throw the fish in the water with 18’ of line, tied in the amidships cleat, figuring it could not get back to the prop or rudder and it was better than nothing.
It was better than nothing. Even though an hour later, on hearing a thumping noise, and not being able to pin point it, I actually convinced myself it was the bird hitting the boat (it wasn’t) but proceeded to stop the boat, then pull this bird back out of the water, shorten the line another two feet and finally, throw it back in the water (this is actually an abbreviated account. I did a few other things, but you had to be there to understand).
Finally I told myself to get a grip and proceeded to find the wine bottle that was rolling under the desk in the second cabin thunking the wall every 30 seconds, which is exactly what I thought it was an hour before.
I had no log entries between 14:00 when I threw the bird back in the water and 01:00 the following morning when I was passing Mizen Head light house.
I did record the rolling though, for those 11 hours, the boat was rolling a delta of 24°, 36° and a whopping 61° (23+38) every so often.
That afternoon, I was wedged on the bench, playing hearts, trying to keep my mind off the sea state, the waves, and the fuel.
As evening turned to night, it was very dark, the winds were 30 knots gusting to 45 out of the due west. The waves were above 16 feet so I spent most of that time lying on the bench with my head to the port side, so I did not feel like I was standing on my head. The worst part was as the boat would be heeled far over, it was stay there a bit and then since it’s dark, the next wave hits suddenly with a big bang on the exposed starboard hull, pushing us further into the side of the wave.
Even now, it’s hard to describe my feelings. I was certainly miserable, but not really afraid. The roller coaster is probably the best analogy in that is still makes us afraid, even though we know it can not fly off the tracks. I was afraid to go to sleep. Rocky land was only 15 to 20 miles away and even though it would take hours to get there, countless boats have come to grief so near their final destination, I was not going to let that happen to me.
But Monkey Son still had that smile on his face, so I knew it would be OK.
Monkey Son was not worried
And it was, I had carefully planned my route using both Coastal Explorer and my Navionics app on my phone, as Navionics showed the lighthouse range colors better.
Karel had given me really clear instructions, so when I saw people standing on the dock at 01:40 in the morning of August 29th, 2014, I knew our Atlantic Passage was over.
More pictures are always being added to http://dauntless.smugmug.com/
And here are some videos that may help to give you an idea, taken just before sunset, please excuse the quality. I was hanging on for dear life.
Back on course, heading due north, the winds were directly behind me, at 180° at 15 kts (written 18015). Can’t ask for any better than that. I was fat, dumb and happy.
Following Seas
I experimented a bit. I wanted to see if different speeds affected the rolling. So between 1400 rpms, which produced about 5.1 knots and 1700 rpms which produced 6.7 knots, the boat rolled about 07° in one direction. So no real difference, I did notice that with a following sea, the paravanes were less effective than I was accustomed to. With those same waves on the beam, the roll would have been less than 04°
I also played with the autopilot a bit. I must give the ComNav Autopilot credit. I do not like the way the manual is written as I find it so dumbed down, it’s almost nonsensical, but the autopilot itself works well.
Now, the big caveat, is that with the confusing manual, it took me a year to get it to work well, but it f=does a good job and it really excels under severe conditions. I had no backup for the AP and in the future I will have to address this, as this trip could not be possible without it.
So I set the AP to “auto” mode, where it decides the settings based on how rough it thinks it is. This ends up working fine until it got really rough and then I had to change it to the most sensitive setting to get it to work well.
I was disgusted looking at my track and seeing that I was only 125 nm from my position on the 21st at 7:00 a.m., that’s two days and 3 hours ago, I was pissed. If I wanted to make progress like that, I’d have a sail boat! I could have put the boat at idle, kept the course NE and I would have save a whole bunch of fuel, time and aggravation.
I’ll spend the next 24 hours being irritated at every glance at my navigation program seeing this track that did nothing other than waste time, money, fuel. Thankfully, what I didn’t know was that by adding 36 hours to this passage, I was setting myself up for a ride of the ride of a life time.
I also added 2.5 qts of oil to the engine while it’s running. It uses almost 2 qts per 100 hours, so I just guestimate.
In the middle of the night, We get hit by a 36 kts gust of wind from the west. It made the boat roll 15° and woke me up. The rest of the morning, the winds stay westerly but die down to 10 to 15 knots. This was the end of the nice weather. The barometer, was 1015 mb and starting to fall.
I’d pretty much been running off the port tank since leaving Horta. This tank was not down to 40 gallons, so it was time to start using the new fuel. As I’ve said before, I try not to run any new fuel to the engine that has not been polished (cleaned and very finely filtered). This system works well had I got the fuel earlier and then spent a day polishing it while before leaving. This issue is, I can only polish from the tank that is feeding the engine.
So now on the 24th, I figured I better see what’s going on with the fuel again. I opened both feeds, so I could polish the starboard tank, but the engine would probably still take most of its fuel from the port tank. I closed the return to the starboard tank, so as fuel was polished (filtered) it was also transferred to the port tank. The idea here is that if I have crap in the starboard tank, it stays there, hopefully.
So all day, we polish and feed from both tanks, returning fuel is all going to the starboard tank. As I go do my evening check, I am shocked to see the FP is really full of crap. What does crap look like, large flakes of black/brown material the size of a dime and smaller, plus water. Now, I had run this FP about an hour after getting the fuel on the 18th. It had rapidly clogged the filter, but this has happened before and that’s why I have the FP. So, I had put in a new filter before polishing again.
We ran like this for two days. At the end of the first day, not only did I have a dirty FP filter, but the filter feeding the engine did not look good. This was the first time, I was really concerned because I do not like that this primary engine filter collected so much crap. (the engine also has two filters in line, called the secondary filters that are actually on the engine, just before the fuel injector pump).
So after 24 hours, I switched the feel to the other filter. The next day I changed all three filters while we were running. For some reason known only to the gods, as I primed the right side filter, it was fine, but when I sent to prime the left side filter, I didn’t know what I did, but within about 20 seconds I could hear the engine starving for fuel.
Damn, I spend 4 weeks not turning off the engine and now, even worse that stopping it on its own, I let it run out of fuel, which can introduce air into the fuel lines.
What a BOZO!
Luckily, Larry and Lena, another KK42 couple, had spoken to me last summer in a most effective manner, “stop dicking around and put an electric fuel pump on so you can prime your filters in seconds. You don’t want to be using the lift pump lever with a hot engine” Since I had just worn a hole in my hand using the lift pump lever for the three days I had been trying to get the engine started, I listened and did as told. It had already helped in countless ways, in fact, I had just used it to prime the right side filter.
A clue as to what happened. Another problem with running alone, now I must extradite myself and run up to pilot house and start engine. It starts and runs for 10 seconds. Then silence, punctuated by that loud low oil pressure buzzer. Another sound you never want to here, unless you just turned off the key.
OK, what now, I open the bleed screws on the engine filters. I haven’t had to do that in ages, in fact since the electric fuel pump addition, but just maybe…
Turn on electric fuel pump, and nothing. What the hell?
Look at my valve positions again and notice that everything is closed. Umm, turn on the main line and fuel sprays out of both bleed screws onto the hot engine. Luckily, it’s diesel, which allows you to do such stuff without turning into a Molotov cocktail.
Get my little rag, wipe down the top of the engine and the filters. Run up to the Pilot House and turn the key. It starts, but slowly, then I give it some throttle and it roars to life.
Back to the engine room, make sure everything is set to run, turn on FP again and off we go.
I had done all of this early in the afternoon, the winds were still only 10 knots, but by 21:00 they were southwesterly 25 gusting to 30, as the barometer took a rapid dive to 1010 mb, losing 4 mb in 6 hours.
I had no idea that these would be the best sea conditions I would see for the next 5 days.
I was roused from my slumber when I noticed a white light dead ahead, its 06:00. Turns out it was Jupiter right on top of Venus. What can I say, boys will be boys. Clearly, I’ve learned to sleep like a cat with one eye open, In the last year, I have been woken numerous times when I see a light in front of me. It’s probably happened more than a dozen times and it’s never been an earth bound object, but always the moon, sun, Venus and now, Jupiter’s been added to the list.
Second Night Out of Horta
Seas were 2 to 3 feet from the west, winds are from the NW at 8 to 13, and we’re going NE, no whitecaps and gentle rolling ±08 °
I did not see a single boat/ship. First time ever not to have seen anything, even on radar or AIS.
Since leaving Horta, I had run the fuel polisher about an hour just to check the fuel. Now, since the engine feed would feed from whatever tank I was polishing, I did not want to polish for a long time. I just wanted to make sure the engine ran on that fuel. In doing so, I did notice some gunk in the bottom of the fuel polisher. It was enough for me to decide not to use that tank as source for time being, but it wasn’t so much that I was concerned. Frankly, I just felt the Racors were doing their job so don’t fuss over it.
Again, woken from my slumber with another light dead ahead, this time the rising crescent moon at 02:20.
I’ve had my most substantial meal of the trip so far. Hormel canned chili (no beans), a can and a half of corn, a can of red kidney beans, a small Horta onion, 3 slices of American cheese, Sam Jang (Korean bean and garlic paste), Red pepper paste, garlic powder, black pepper and salt. The first day underway from Horta, I hardly ate at all, yesterday; I ate a tomato salad and some candy bars. This morning, I had a tomato and onion salad (oil and vinegar). And then my chili concoction midafternoon. I have three more portions in the freezer. I’ll end up eating them all in the next 5 days.
Winds continue to be light, less than 15 knots, so I pull the birds out of the water in late afternoon.
From my viewpoint, my course looks good. A direct course to Ireland from Horta would have been to the NE, 045°. Instead, to take advantage on the movement of the Azores high, as well as the development of a little low west of the tip of Spain, I have taken a course of 066°. There have been cumulus buildups on the horizon in all directions since morning, but around me, just scattered high clouds and for the first time, light winds, 5 to 8 knots from the west. (Spoiler alert, in 7 days this developing low would beat me like a rented mule)
We are droning along at 6 knots. The Ford Lehman engine never misses a beat, which means many times one can hardly hear it as it is so steady, our brains ignore it. When I sleep, nap at night, it feels just like being on a trans-Atlantic flight flying to Europe in the middle of the night, with the occasional moderate turbulence and the drone of the engines.
Also, these first few since leaving Horta have been thankfully uneventful. Earlier in our passage, leaving Rhode Island, Cape Cod and finally Nova Scotia, each day there were things to deal with every day. Finally after the 4th day out of NS, all systems were working and we settled into a routine.
A Day by Day Summary Cape Cod to Flores, the Azores, 2230 nm, 20 July to 05 Aug 2014
20 July, 06:00, we left with the tide, as had a few hours on the Narragansett River, then Buzzards Bay to the Cape Cod Canal and across the Bay, anchoring at 21:00 that night. 91 nm,
21 July, anchored in Provincetown Harbor. Very foggy, had to top up the tanks and repair VHF antennas, none of my VHF radios was working! Discovered that I had connected two antenna cables to each other, and one old Loran cable to the PH VHF, let the Shenanigans begin.
22 Jul, NO GO, Water maker not making water, changed fuel polish filter and one primary engine fuel filter. The shenanigans continue as it takes me hours to figure out I have water maker valve set to Clean, thus no water. We finally leave as fog breaks at 12:00 noon. An hour later, the one and only boat we talk to the entire trip asks if I have seen any whales, I tell him we’re headed to the Azores. He doesn’t get that answer very often. Yes, all the radios now work.
23 July, A strong S to SW winds 15 to 20 knots all night has kept us from turning more east (as many of you have noted). The great circle route does pass just south of Nova Scotia, so with the winds pushing us that way, we take it as an omen to stop. We pull into Shelburne, NS at 14:35 on the 24th. We refuel, three times I say gallons and they give me liters. Luckily, I’m not a 767. That night, when paying we realize the mistake and top up the next morning. Yes, that counts as a shenanigan.
25 July, Underway again, hopefully next stop, the Azores. Keep rpms between 1500 & 1600 for the next 5 days. The sight tubes on the tanks do not come into play until the tanks are about 1/3 down, therefore I will not have an accurate read until then. Southwest swell only 1-2 ft., light westerly winds all day and night. Water maker auxiliary pump stops working, and the water maker was not working since it lost it prime. I work on pump, pulling it out and finally just bypassing the pressure switch. All is working OK. With the light winds, we were trying to get as far south as possible, knowing the SW winds would return.
26 July, No change in weather (wx) or course, at 9:00, the water maker was stops working again. No power at all. Thought it was the relay, change relay, no change. Discover it is the tube fuse had toasted itself. I put a spade fuse in, but the wires were too small and it cooks itself within minutes. Luckily, I’m feeling all the wires as this is going on, and no other wires got even warm. I decide to go without the fuse. Never had another problem (but it doesn’t stop you from worrying about it!) and it was just now in writing this, that I remembered I was supposed to get new fuse.
27 July, Broken clouds all day with rain showers and thunderstorm, changed course to 135°, Southeast, speed is changing from 4.2 to 7.8 knots, we are clearly in the Gulf Stream eddies. We go all evening close to 8 knots. This is the first day; we did not have some minor mechanical problem to deal with!
28 July, rain showers and Thunderstorms all day, winds getting stronger, south or SW 15 to 25, at 9:00 turned off all electronics for about an hour as we passed thru one line of cells, by 10:30 we were past that and all was normal again, the winds are strong from the south, so the paravanes are really working. At 11:30, we hear a noise that sounds like a pistol hot. Not having a pistol on board, we were worried. I look to see that the 3/8” bolt for the mast cleat for the starboard paravane has sheared off. Quickly, neutral, to get pressure off of mast and I go up to fly bridge as boat is rolling around. I re tie up-down line, which transfers force from paravanes to mast, and make a hitch around mast and tie it off at the boom. This turns out to be really effective and in a few days, I retied the other cleat too. Oh, I forgot that wasn’t my first solution; my first solution was to tie it on another cleat that was on the mast. As I watched it bend that cleat as we got underway, I decided that I needed a new solution.
29 July, at 2:45 upon our watch change, I decided it was a good time to add to quarts of oil to the running engine. After much ado, it was a non-event. Much messier in a car. Scattered clouds, SW winds at 10 to 15 continue. 1080 miles to go 😮
30 July, Sct clouds, winds still SW but less than 10 kts, no whitecaps!, we stopped at noon to pull in paravanes (they slow us up about ½ knot). Took this opputunity to take a swim. The water was so blue. Also took this relatively calm period to tighten the paravane stays and the mast stays. We spent the next 30 hours without the paravanes. This was the only time all trip without them.
31 July, nice weather continues. I tell Julie that this is what I had hoped for for the entire trip. By 18:00, the southerly swell causes us to put the paravanes back out. We had also gotten an easterly wind on our bow. This was causing a pitch that coupled with the roll was becoming unpleasant, so the birds went out and the ride became ok, though still pitching.
1 Aug, another nice day, light easterly winds continue, so the ride wasn’t that smooth, but OK. Later on in the afternoon, I do what I told everyone I wouldn’t. I stopped the engine. I wanted to check the new fan belt tension, I also changed the other fuel filter and added ½ qt. oil. (I was proud of my 2 qt. guess the day before). Fan belt was fine. Before stopping the engine, I did start the Gen. why, who knows, maybe the start battery would be dead.
2 Aug, our 4th day of nice weather, Julie took a swim too. Winds are SSW at 10, so paravanes are needed. But still nice, Saw dolphins. This nice weather really helped our morale, we were more than half way and also we had stopped having a problem a day.
3 Aug, we’re making good time, 160 miles in last 24 hours. We also saw out whales today, but winds are out of NE causing again that pitch and roll.
4 Aug, Thunderstorms in the early morning, I change course to avoid them and get further south. A few hours later, we return to our easterly course, as the winds have picked up since noon. They are now up to 20 kts and the seas are building to about 6 ft., though we have kept it behind us, off the rear quarter. For the next 48 hours this would be our challenge.
Our roll has increased, winds continue 240 at 15 kts gusting to 25, and we’re rolling 15° in each direction with the paravanes. That’s not normal. We are watching the birds in the water and they are doing this little circular motion, the port bird is running next to the hull of the boat, while the Stbd bird is running three feet outside the pole. Very strange behavior. We’ve had these smaller birds on since Rhode Island, and thought we saw no difference.
At 16:00, we stop, to reposition the angle of the poles, thinking, it will help. We have a strange evening. The port pole occasionally jumps vertical, which makes us stop the boat, so it falls out again. Finally, at 23:00 I try to go to sleep. It’s hard to sleep, for the first time all voyage, and sure enough in an hour I hear the pole go vertical again, but I figure Julie can handle it and she does. An hour later, the same thing. The boat is also rolling a lot, like 15 to one side, 20 to the other, that a delta of 35°, that’s like pre-paravane numbers.
The third time it happens, I figure I better get up, as Julie has had enough practice with the shenanigans. I first try to change the AP, the boat does clearly not like some combination of something, so I do the easiest thing first. No change.
Finally at 02:00, 05 Aug, we pulled the old bird out of the lazerette and changed the port bird. Now remember, we were hesitate to do this because the boat is rolling like a.. And trying to retrieve a 40 lb. object can be dangerous.
As soon as we get underway, I see the port bird is now tracking straight AND the Starboard bird which had been coming out of the waves sideway, since it was also doing a circular thing, is now tracking straight. At 3:00 Julie goes to a well-earned bed and we power along with strong SW winds now up to 25 knots.
But I know we’ll be at Flores within 15 hours, in fact, we can see the cap cloud over the island, the boat is going well and we still have 9” of fuel in each tank (about 160 gal). At noon, we decide not to wait for port, but to change the stud bird also, the seas have continued to build and are above 6 ft. and the roll is delta 20°
At 17:30 we sight the lighthouse, of Porto do Albarnaz. While we have seen the islands on the radar for the entire day, that doesn’t count.
It was nice to see land, especially after the last hard 48 hours. But it wasn’t over.
Because of the large waves from the SW, we were not able to turn more southerly, so we had to keep a course that put us north of Flores, even though we were heading to the southern tip. I hoped that once in the lee of the island, NE of Flores, we could turn south and the wind and waves would be smaller. They were, but not at first, we had an hour after we turned on=f now going into these 8 ft. waves, being slowed to like 3 knots. It was at this point that we had a strange thing happen. We got hit by a float?? It came flying across the bow, hit the pilot house window and bounced off into the dark ocean.
3 miles, one whole hour later, we were in the lee of the island and the waves were less than half.
We anchored in 35’ water outside the Porto das Lajes, 39° 22.897’N, 31° 09.991W at 22:00
This surprised us. Having been in the Bahamas this winter, when the water as not so deep, it was so blue, like you are looking at a swimming pool. But the deeper parts, like “Tongue of the Ocean” where the water is over 5,000 feet deep, the water is a dark navy blue color.
So, one of the first things Julie and I noticed a day out of Nova Scotia, was how blue the water was. Not navy blue, but a lighter shade. It took us more than a day to get off the continental shelf where the water goes from a few hundred feet deep to over 10,000 feet.
Mid-Atlantic Blue Ocean
By day three, we were in very deep water, over 14,000 feet deep, yet the water was so blue, not dark, like you could almost see the bottom. It called to us like the Sirens of the ancient world. Many times, I felt like jumping in, the only thing stopping me, the knowledge that on the open ocean, simple acts beget tragedies.
Finally, the sun came out and we had two nice days, winds less than 10 knots, 1 to 2’ waves, really nice motoring weather. So we stopped the boat to take a swim. Left the engine running, but not in gear obviously, and tied a 40’ line to the stern, just in case of who knows what. Now, we of course did not both go in the water at the same time, we didn’t even take off our clothes at the same time, in fact, Julie waited until the next day. But as I jumped in the ocean, I could not but feel great. The water was so blue under the boat, almost sky blue, and surprisingly, so salty. It tasted much saltier than before. Julie confirmed that also when she took her swim the following day.
We did see wildlife. Not as much as along the coast though. We only saw dolphins a few times, but one group was really large, more than 30. They swam with us for only a few minutes, whereas in the past, I’ve had dolphins spend 30 to 50 minutes with us. We also had a pair of birds hitch a ride. Happily, both flew off under their own power after a much needed rest the following day.
A Mid Atlantic Turtle
A few days from the Azores, we sighted what we initially thought was a float, but it turned out to be a turtle, just floating on the surface. Then an hour later, another turtle. We also had our only whale sighting, a couple of Humpbacks, maybe q quarter mile south.
Maybe the birds even helped themselves to the flying fish we would find on deck each morning. Sometimes we can see their impact 5’ or 6’ above the deck level on the salon wall or windows. They are also pretty small, just a few inches long. The flying fish we encountered in the Bahamas were much larger, but then so were the waves that night.
And just before Flores, we had a half dozen squid ranging in size from two to six inches long, on deck. I’m guessing the squid got there thru the deck scuppers as the boat rolls in the waves. The only problem was that sometimes I did not find them for a day, in which case we really did start to smell like a trawler.
This was the first presentation we’ve ever done of our passage and it was really well received. A bunch of folks asked me where else we were presenting and at this point, the answer is nowhere because no one has asked us yet. I’m definitely going to look for more opportunities because I like sharing how possible this is in an older boat on a limited budget.
And I’m sick. Just a cold that I felt coming on last week, but I had been feeling better and I needed to take advantage of being next to the dock and wall (instead of being rafted to fishing boats) so that I could rig the new paravane pole. It also allowed me to complete the re-rigging of the smaller lines on the winch that pull the birds and the poles up. It’s now a very easy system to deploy and retrieve when I am alone.
Dauntless at Sea 