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.
Leaving Las Palmas Sunday morning, our next stop was planned to be Port St. Charles on the island of Barbados in the eastern Caribbean, 2636 nautical miles west.
Leaving the busy harbor of Las Palmas
The plan was to go north, around the top of Gran Canaria, then southwest between the islands as to afford some protection from the wind.
Leaving the protected harbor of Las Palmas, we encountered strong, NW winds that had produced, large seas since the current was running from south to north on the east side of Grand Canary island. As the seas built to 10 to 15 feet, it was clear that “this dog doesn’t hunt”.
So, 48 minutes into our Atlantic crossing, we turned tail and headed south.
An interesting start. Does make one a bit nervous when the plan changes in the first hour of a 400-hour trip.
We rounded the south end of the island and set the autopilot for 260° and settled in to an anticipated 16 or 17-day passage.
As the day progressed, the winds came around to the south-southeast at 12 to 16 knots and stayed that way for the next 26 hours.
Friendly dolphins escort us
The problem was with these SE winds producing 3 to 6-foot wind driven waves from the southeast, we also had a west to northwest Atlantic swell with waves 6 to 10 feet on a 10 second period. The combination produced a corkscrew pitching, though most of the roll was being eliminated by the paravanes stabilizers. It also slowed us significantly, doing only 4 to 5 knots through most of the period.
A close encounter of the annoying kind
A little after 04:00, it’s pitch dark outside, Dauntless is rolling along at 4.3 knots.
Finally, a period of calm winds.Dauntless is on standbyA cute harbor, with volcano in background
I see a radar return of a boat about a mile north of our course and pretty much on the same course. It’s a small boat, as the radar return is relatively weak and of course no AIS, the automated ship information that would have been on my navigation chart anytime an AIS equipped boat gets within 5+ miles. It also provides course and peed so it takes a lot of the guess work out. Since I’ve had it on Dauntless, big ships don’t get as close anymore.
I get the binoculars and can see his red running light as well as his stern light.
So, he is ahead and to the right of my course. OK, I turn left about 10° to put some distance between us. Over the next half hour, I realize, instead of getting further apart, he now seems to be on a direct heading towards Dauntless.
As I am looking at him again, it all becomes clear. He shines a spotlight on to his mainsail. And in this vast ocean, not having seen another boat for the last 12 hours, this guy decides to wait until we show up to tack and basically cut right in front of me. At night, with seas bouncing the boat around, he puts our two boats on a collision course.
What a fucking moron. Remember, it’s dark out. In day light, it’s much easier to understand the situation and what needs to be done. At night, with only the radar for guidance, nobody would want to purposely get so close to another boat.
I turn more to the left, south, but to my horror, within minutes I realize he is now only a quarter mile away. He shines his light on his stupid sail again. He’s telling me he has the rig
The other side of the IslandLava
ht of way, yes, he has the right to be dead too.
I’ve turned left twice, I am actually a bit afraid since my attempts to get further away, he is now closer. What don’t I understand?? Clearly, I understand neither his course nor intentions.
Again, this kind of situation is much easier to deal with in daylight, but now, only seeing two points of light, with no perspective, he could be 100 feet away, or it could be Mars and Venus.
I have to do something and do it quickly.
I no longer trust him, his course seems to be crossing ahead of Dauntless, therefore, I do the only thing I can to make sure he does not hit me. I turn sharply right, 90° right. This way, I can watch him and keep him to my left. He is going south, crossing my western track, so I will go north and once I get north of him, I will turn west.
I’m going north, he is going south and he passes me about a quarter mile to the west, on my left. In other words, if not for my right turn, he would have crossed just in front of Dauntless.
One of my rules is I never want to pass directly in front of another boat, big or small. I aim for their stern to pass behind.
After he passes, I turn again west and he turns again west now about a mile south of my course, but again on a parallel course. He’s probably going to Barbados also.
As the sun rises I can see him off to the south.
A Course Change
Finally, a few hours after day break on the second day, the winds died down (as forecast by the way) to less than 5 knots. The NW swell was still present, but without the wind driven waves, we could pull in the paravanes birds and our speed increased to 6 knots at 1500 rpms.
Now at this point we were still about 45nm ESE of the furthest west Canary Island, El Hierro, the island that Columbus set off from 500 years ago from the port of La Restinga.
Our current course was 260°, the port of La Restinga was at 289°, therefore not a big detour and when I looked more closely, it only added 6 nm to our entire trip. Thus, even though I was sure we had enough fuel for Barbados, if I would run out of fuel within sight of Barbados, I don’t think I would ever hear the end of it.
And I felt it was best to get away from my errant buddy. I’m in credulous that anyone, at night, would purposely pass in front of another boat.
Sunset in La Restinga
Thinking of the encounter a couple of hours later, I think that even though I saw his boat for quite a while, he must not have seen Dauntless, until he tacked in front of me. But still, why make the safety of your boat depend on someone else’s action? Sometimes Right of Way really means Right to Be Dead.
Seven hours later, we pull into the little harbor of La Restinga. It’s really a cute little harbor.
Docked along the wall, behind the rescue boat, the security guard came by, to help with our lines and take our information. Very nice. As I have said previously, all of a sudden, being in the Canaries, is like being in northern Spain again.
These are sea-going folk, unlike the olive and cattle people of Spain’s southeast.
Well, after we got all tied up, it turned out we cannot get fuel until Wednesday, as Tuesday was a big holiday, so just like that, we are having a two-day vacation.
For a few seconds, I briefing debated just leaving, but again, I don’t like being ridiculed and more seriously, I was meticulous in fueling at Las Palmas, so this gives me an opportunity to measure my exact fuel consumption at 1500 rpms over a 30-hour period.
My guess is that it will be 1.4 gallons per hour, ±0.1 gallon.
I’ll tell you tomorrow.
And now Wednesday night, it is tomorrow. But still no fuel. They ran out. Maybe the truck comes tomorrow. Maybe.
In any case, once having made the decision to stop for fuel, I will wait for fuel. I only need about 50 gallons, 200 liters, but it’s a cute harbor, with nice people, excellent food and wine and it’s a volcano.
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
The day to never forget started with a beautiful sunrise. As the red, then orange then yellow orb cast its glow on this arid North African landscape, little did I realize this day would be one never forgotten.
We went about our normal chores. After being in Europe for over two years, Dauntless has gotten that weathered, experienced look, that says, look out, here I come. Admittedly, the new paint scheme helps in that regard. Two years ago, every minute was a scramble to get something done, and then a half minute to undo what was just done, and another few minutes to do it again.
Moroccan FriendsDauntless in Rabat
Now, those novice jitters are gone. Spares, parts, and all the other crap that I can’t throw away is carefully stored in containers in the engine room. The virtual computerized inventory is all done. Stored in the virtual closet.
Dauntless is lying heavy in the water. Full of fuel, water, but unlike last time, with just enough food to last a family in Africa about 38 days, instead of the 400 day supply we left New England with two years ago.
So, who could have realized an innocent remark to a passing stranger would matter?
The Marina Bouregreg is a very nice marina. Situated on the River Oued Bou Regreg in the town of Sale, the capitol city of Rabat is just across the river. Rumor has it that the royal family has some boats in this marina, so security is all over, but very friendly and helpful. As marinas go, it’s by far one of the best we have been in.
So just a day after arriving, now two weeks ago, as I ambled back to our beautiful Kadey Krogen, now going on a young, but frisky 28 years old, I spotted a group of ladies also admiring her.
It’s not often one sees a boat in Europe flying the Stars and Stripes and I always like flying a large courtesy flag, so I can fly a large American flag just below. I would not want to offend the locals. In spite of the common belief in the USA, I have yet to be in a place where Americans are not admired. There are probably 10,000 pictures of Dauntless and her two American flags taken over just the last two years.
Now they girls turned out to be students at the University also taking pictures of Dauntless. After a few words it was clear that their English was very, very good.
One thing led to another and next thing we knew, we were all talking about America and Morocco in the salon of Dauntless. It was a large group, 4 girls and the 4 of us, Larry, my T-3 friend, Pierre Jean (PJ) a KK wannabe from Paris, Micah, my fake nephew and myself. An eclectic group. PJ and Larry were leaving to go back to their respective haunts, while Micah was going to Fez, a beautiful city a few hundred miles from the coast.
So, as we said our goodbyes to the students, their insistence that they make us a Moroccan dinner before leaving for the Canaries was touching. And who can say no to a group of pretty ladies; not I. A date was set and we said our goodbyes.
The day before our tentative dinner, we re-affirmed the arrangements.
It was a wonderful dinner. We really felt appreciated that these 4 Moroccans would go to such an effort of cooking all day just for us Americans.
The plan was to leave two days later, on the 24th.
But we couldn’t. the Port was closed! Nervously we wondered, why was the port closed?
Reassured by the pilots that the port would be opened the next day, we went about doing the last-minute preparations. Micah and I both decided to put on our sea-sickness patch, as it seemed two of the four days needed to get to the Canaries would not be very pleasant. I also decided that Madeira was an acceptable destination also. A few hundred miles north of the Canaries, it would increase the options on our route based on the actually winds and seas.
This situation reminded me of my crossing of the North Sea last September. I ended up taking a weather window that was only 2 days of the four needed. Turned out OK. As fall becomes winter, one’s options get worse not better. So, I felt this was doable.
The plan was that for us to even have two good days, we needed to be 250 miles west of the coast, then as the winds veer to the northwest, we could head west-southwest to Madeira or south southwest to the Canaries. The paravanes are most effective in a beam sea. Winds were forecast to be 15 to 20 behind the front (from the NW). My Rule of Thumb is to ALWAYS assume the winds will be 50% stronger and only within a 90-degree arc of the stated direction.
Thus, worse case, these NW winds could end up 270° at 30 knots. If that happened, then we head due south. It wouldn’t be fun, but I’ve seen worse.
I slept fitfully; not well at all. Finally, in the middle of the night, I decided we were not going.
The problem, my fear? There was a forecast strip of high winds from the southwest just off the coast. My plan depended on getting west of those winds before they got strong, as they were forecast to get up to 40 knots. If in the first 24 hours of leaving, if we encountered SW winds at 15 to 20 knots, no problem, we head NW and can turn SW as the winds change.
But I was ignoring my own rule of thumb. What would happen if the winds were 260° at 25 knots? I’d have to go virtually due north, which would put me back in Rota in three days!
Or even worse, the first 24 hours goes as planned, we are now 125 miles from the coast, but the strong wind band sets up also further west. Thus 40 knot southwesterly winds. We’d be back in Gibraltar before anyone could say, what the fuck just happened. And worse, it would not be a fun ride.
When one is in the middle of the Atlantic, you take what Mother Nature gives you and are grateful for it. If you complain, or even look at her the wrong way, she’ll show you very quickly that no matter how bad it is, it can always get worse.
That morning, as I went to talk to the pilots (all boats are guided into the harbor and marina on a 24/7 basis), they assured me that the harbor was now open, and he added that I would have no problem since I have a sturdy boat. That’s certainly true, but I told them I had decided to wait out this coming storm in port, rather than at sea.
Strong winds off the coast trapped us here for anther few days. We’ll get out this weekend. Saturday is still unsettled, but Monday and Tuesday, look good.
Yikes, looking at this Blog, I’m still in Rota, Spain.
Like New – AgainLike New- Again
That seems like eons ago!
So, while Micah and my friend Larry explore Morocco, I will take this opportunity get caught up.
Bouncing around at anchor
Maybe my lack of writing has been a function of the cruising conditions.
Getting back to Dauntless after a month the sigh of relief was probably audible across the Atlantic. Her month on the hard went perfectly. She had shore power with no interruptions the entire time (I have thermometers for fridge and freezer, which records max and min temps).
The gouge I had put into the side had been repaired
Our first spot to anchor heading into the Strait.
and painted. The anti-foul undercoat was re-applied over those sections that the straps of the travel lift had lifted off when being splashed in Ireland.
So, for less than $200 she was back in the water looking like new again.
All in all, a great relief.
But now, it was time to get underway and make some miles.
Second Anchorage. Easily found thanks to Active CaptainBusy avoiding ships
And they turned out to be tough miles. The 87 miles from Rota to Gibraltar had to be broken into three different segments. Each time the winds picked up on our bow and once they reach 15+ knots, it makes the situation pretty crappy.
Nautical miles
Time Hr:Min
Average Speed (KTS)
Reason for Stop
37
7:35
5.5
Winds on the nose, continued to increase
29
5:05
5.6
Same as above
18
3:30
5.0
Finally, in Gib
Our first stop, was a bit of desperation. Just NW of the lighthouse off Cape Trafalgar, it was not that well protected from the easterly winds, but it was better than burning fuel to go mostly up and down. We only stayed about 4 hours, but this was enough time for the winds to die down and we got underway again.
This stop also provided another example of how the “police” are about helping, not enforcing. After we were anchored about an hour, a Spanish Civil Guarda (national police) boat sidestepped themselves to within about 100 feet of Dauntless. I came out to the pilot house door, two guys came out of their boat and yelled over the wind whether I spoke Spanish. I replied only a little.
They asked, “problem”. I responded, “no, I wait for wind” They waved, said OK Adios and slowly motored off, until their wake would not rock us any more than we are already rocking.
In the more than two years of cruising in Europe. I have always found the maritime authorities were always about help if needed, but not enforcement.
Our next stop, west of the causeway at Tarifa was much better, as the Active Captain description explains. We were well out of the wave action, so the boat was pretty quiet. We stopped here at 02:00 and had a much-needed sleep. Then though I was up by 08:00, the winds were up to, so we just sat and waited. Finally, by early afternoon, the winds died down and we took off, now only 18 miles from The Rock.
The Rock from across the Bay
The last of our challenges, the 6 miles crossing the Gibraltar Bay. There are two areas for large ships to anchor on the west and east sides of the bay. We went through these areas pretty close to the anchored behemoths because it reduced our exposure to the super-fast ferries from the Ceuta on the African coast to Algeciras, the Spanish port just north of Gibraltar.
Those ferries, once spotted would be 3 or 4 miles away, but right on you within minutes. When we left Gibraltar a few days later, they would give us quite a thrill as three of them raced across the Straits seemingly aimed right at us.
Ready to Go. Just need to replace my tattered flags, both the Kadey Krogen and the Stars & Stripes show wear from the last 5,000 miles.
Dauntless is finally back in the water. In spite of holidays, vacations and other national disasters.
In the Sling
The Spanish, at least in southern Spain, have a penchant for bureaucracy, that would make ___ proud. Even if you stop in a marina and just stay overnight, one night, they make a file for you. Even though everything is on the computer, everything is also in that file.
It’s a bureaucracy that is at best redundant and at worst really f…ing annoying.
However, I do recall that in Lisbon, you could not leave until you checked out and you could not check out if the office was closed. Yes, that meant no early morning departures to take advantage of tides or weather.
All the Scrapes and bruises repaired for $160.
Next week in Morocco, I’ll probably have to east all of these words. Umm, I hope they are tasty.
While picking up my laundry, we decided to go to the grocery, I figured maybe I’d get fresh milk and a few other things. $150 later we had a grocery cart full of stuff. I figured where am I going to get anything cheaper between here and even in the Caribbean? So now once again I have a half year’s supply of: sardines, anchovies, dried sausages, mustards, toilet paper, UHT milk (I use for my morning coffee) some fresh goods and even mayonnaise. (The Hellman’s mayonnaise in Europe requires no refrigeration [what I have been saying for 30 years], what changed, the marketing folks finally figured out Italians were not going to buy mayonnaise they had to put in their small, dorm room sized, fridges.
Tomorrow morning, we’ll wash the boat, refill water tanks and leave for Gibraltar.
Sunset over Rota
One night at anchor underway, then Gib for two nights, leaving for Africa, Morocco, Sunday morning, winds allowing. We’ll stop in Rabat for two weeks, allowing us to do some exploring.
I want to be in the Canaries be the end of November and Barbados before Christmas.
As a reminder, you can get a position of Dauntless within the last 10 minutes at: Share.Deloreme.com/Dauntless
is easier said than done. These past three weeks has been a nice respite from the duty and responsibilities of Master and Commander of Dauntless.
The last 10 days in Italy, at the house of my friends for 40 years, eating, drinking, sleeping, eating, drinking, sleeping, ad infinitum, lulls one in into a stupor sweeter than any chemically induced experiment.
It’s a good life and it’s obvious why it has attracted me all these years. But it’s also just as obvious, even more so, that I have structured my life in such a way that when I am in Italy, I am truly on vacation. Sure I am still like the oldest son of the family, but other than some chauffeuring duties, which I enjoy immensely, it’s just eat, drink Prosecco, nap, from morning to late night.
But all good things must come to an and, so I find myself stealing glances at the Atlantic charts. And in that incessant way that can be both annoying and gratifying, clicking on strange links.
Indirectly it also answers my questions that I had asked so many in Europe, about the seemingly overabundance of jelly fish in both the eastern Baltic and now also this year in the rivers of Lisbon in particular. Seems to be related to salinity. Oh, now I remember that the Baltic is only half as salty as the ocean. Probably much like the Chesapeake.
In 7 days, we push off from the European Continent and head for darkest Africa, OK, only Morocco, not so dark, in fact, pretty f…ing bright, but allow me some editorial license.
In less than 30 days, we then push off of Africa for the Caribbean. No embellishment needed here.
Ok, got to go, I have a delicacy or two to snack on.
A Cornucopia of delicaciesdessert – ChestnutsA Favorite SpotA Great Spot of Italian Snacks at Affordable PricesCrostini di ProsciuttoCrostini di LardoA Morning Snack
The table below has our tentative cruising plan for the next four months. While the dates are somewhat tentative, you know me, I like sticking to the plan.
Kadey Krogen in Spain and Galicia
A few explanations about the below chart:
The tentative arrival date is just that, but the departure date from the previous port can be derived from the required days (4th column) minus the arrival date. E.g. Departure date from GIB (Gibraltar) is 1 day before arrival at Rabat, so the 7th of November.
2nd Column, Type, “C” = Coastal cruising, “P” = Passage, i.e. No Stops.
Crew consists om my Hawaiian nephew Micah who has travelled with Dauntless since Ireland and is a very flexible soul and I.
We have others joining us for various legs, though at this time, it looks like I still would like to have a couple or one person for the passage from the Canaries to the Caribbean. If you think you have some interest in this, please email me, sooner rather than later.
I am excited about getting this new phase underway. So much of my time, my life, my adventures have been in Europe. I’m ready for a big change. It will take a year to get to Alaska and another year to get to Northeast Asia.
Dauntless is as ready as she has ever been. Unlike coming east two years ago, all is ship shape. Spare parts are stowed and organized, fuel tank vents are moved, paravanes are rigged to run more effectively and can be easily run much deeper if need be and the two air conditioning units are even working.
Here are the current winds for the mid-Atlantic. To get an approximate idea of the Dauntless’ route, visualize a line from the bottom of Spain to NE South America. Following winds or no winds. the se are the “Trade Winds” and are pretty constant all winter.
The New Dauntless on a mooring in Scotland, flying her purple Kadey Krogen flag.
Just in case you missed it, here are the pictures of Dauntless, before and after her winter in Ireland.
It was a transformative time!
In the Beginning. 3 years ago
When I get back to Dauntless in a couple of weeks, it will be time to get her wet again.
The New Dauntless, on the hard. The missing anti-foul was caused by straps of the travel lift. The green sheen is organic growth just above the anti-foul.
Then, just days later, we will take the first steps in our voyage back to North America.
I will miss Ireland. I will miss the friends I made and the people who worked on Dauntless like she was their own. We’ll have to make it back there some day.
Gary Mooney, the GRP and Painter, was meticulous in mixing and applying the AWLGRIP paints.This is the layer of the undercoat for the anti-foul going on.Gary applying the first layer of epoxyThe New Anti-Foul. The scrapes pulled off some of the undercoat.My latest scratch/scrapeFall 2015 Dauntless is strapped down for the winter. Dauntless was hit by winds of over 100 mph this past winter while in New Ross. But since it wasnt a “named” storm, it was just another winter in the northern Atlantic and therefore boats are strapped down.May 2015The Krogen out of the water
1974 Alfa Romeo Montreal
205 built in 1974
200 horsepower 2.6 litre V-8 engine
Designed by Bertone
Top speed of 137 mph (downhill!)
5-speed manual transmission
rear-wheel-drive
166 – inch length
2+2 seating configuration
Kadey Krogen 42
1988 Kadey Krogen 42-foot Trawler Yacht
11 built in 1988
135 horsepower 6.2 litre I-6 Ford Lehman engine
Designed by James Krogen
Top speed of 9 mph (in calm winds and flat seas)
1-speed manual transmission
In-line shaft-drive
504 – inch length
2+2+2+2 sleeping configuration
A few weeks ago, I did another road trip. A quick three-day trip from Lisbon to A Coruna, 720-mile round trip. It made me think about my travels, on land and now, by sea, and reflect on both the similarities and the differences between land and sea.
No, this isn’t one of those crazy dissimilar performance tests that Car & Driver became famous for back in the day.
As my life transitions from land to sea, I still savior those moments on the hard. Driving has always been a joy for me. From my first trans-continental trip to midnight drives around Mt. Rainier in the middle of the night, driving has always been a skill that I continuously honed.
North America provides endless miles, from Florida to Alaska, the dessert southwest to the Gaspe Peninsula, all well-travelled roads for me.
Then Europe provided another whole different experience: unlimited Autobahns, miles of roads through hill and dale at even faster speeds. From France and Spain in the west to Romania in the east and oh so many miles just going north and south from Holland to Italy, a true cornucopia of roads, conditions and cultures. Finally add a few driving schools, including a 4-day school done by BMW driving school at the famed Nurburgring, and being a driving instructor at club events enabled me to further hone my driving skills.
What drove me to do most of these miles, these long trips with quick turn-arounds?
Women of course! Well, maybe not all the time, but…
All these travels were done in the plethora of cars in my life: 3 BMW’s, 3 Alfa Romeos, 3 Jeeps and one Mazda, two motorcycles and many, many rental cars.
The best of the best was my Alfa Romeo Montreal. Built in 1974, never a big seller as Alfa’s only V-8 was introduced just when the first gas crisis was going on, but me oh my, what a car.
She was fast yes, but driving cars well is never about speed. It’s getting the most out of what that particular car could do. She was perfectly balanced and so tough.
That was the Montreal. Perfectly balanced, she had no bad habits. She felt like on rails no matter the speed or the conditions. She went over jumps with aplomb and I’d had her brake discs red hot on a few occasions with nary a problem.
So why have I been going on and on about cars and driving? Does it even relate to boats? Boats are inherently much more complicated than cars. Is that it?
Driving a car well, to the best of the car’s ability and design, is about the knowledge and skill of the driver. Ultimately, a cars performance is a function of what I can put into it.
Last year my Alaska friends, Larry and Karla, joined Dauntless to cruise from Ireland to Northern France. The crossing of the English Channel was rougher than one would like, you know with those seemingly ubiquitous 6 to 10 foot seas that Dauntless also seems to find. Larry later told me he was a bit afraid. But after the first 12 hours he realized that Dauntless wasn’t fighting the seas, she was going with them. No matter how big the wave, the boat seemed to ride along as the wave passed serenely beneath us. Sure we pitched and rolled, but not in a harsh manner, just smoothly like she had been doing it her whole life.
And then my epiphany.
I understood the difference between driving the Alfa Romeo and being the Kadey Krogen skipper.
On Dauntless I am like a passenger. Oh sure, I have my Master’s license and as the Skipper I am responsible for everything that happens on board. I decide where and how to go and to do it in a safe manner.
However, this Kadey Krogen performs.
Just as the Montreal ruled the road; my Krogen does what she does as well, even better. In the last three years, I have done a number of things I would prefer not to repeat. Has it been uncomfortable at times? Sure. Can I sometimes mitigate contrary winds and seas to get a better ride? Yes, I can do that.
But no matter what the conditions or what I do: beam sea, head sea, following sea, etc., my Krogen just does it, with never a complaint, never a groan nor shriek.
I point the boat in the direction I want to go. Boat never says no, in fact, Dauntless says, “Sure, no problem, it’s just another day in the park for me”
And that’s what Larry meant when he said the KK just went with the seas, never fighting the waves, but being one with the environment. She does what we ask. And that’s why I have never been afraid; I’m going along for the ride.
James Krogen is the real driver. He designed and built a boat for people like me who wanted to get off the beaten path in a boat anybody could call home. All I do is point us in the right direction. The Krogen does the rest.
The real motto of Kadey Krogen should be: Performance is Built into Our Boats; She’ll Make You Worthy in Any Sea.
Kadey Krogen said this: “The late naval architect and designer, James S. Krogen, was a master of merging the tried and true with fresh, innovative concepts, creature comforts and convenience. His near-three decades of commercial design gave extra dimension and distinction to his offshore pleasure craft. Outstanding performance is inherent.”
It’s a heart wrenching story; difficult enough to live though, probably even harder to write about.
So that ended my pity party pretty quick.
I had a close call with a submerged jetty in Florida. We’d only had Dauntless 8 months at that point. For something so dangerous, basically a rock wall just under water, the charts whispered Danger, instead of yelling it. I slowed and finally figured it out in the nick of time. It is one of the reasons I now travel with two navigation programs running. When the situation gets complicated a second view is extremely helpful.
The chart data is not incorrect; it’s just our mind is not seeing what it expects. Therefore, it tries to come up with a logical explanation based on its initial (false) assumption. A dangerous false path. A primary cause of aircraft accidents in fact.
And it happens in the classroom all the time, especially in science, even more so in Earth Science. In Earth Science classrooms students are learning concepts for everyday physical occurrences that they see all the time, like phases of the moon or why the sun rises in the east. But long before they step into any classroom, their minds have already developed an explanation. Many times, that initial explanation is incorrect, though logical with a limited number of facts.
A Harvard study looked at this phenome using Harvard students, who presumably had had a good science education just to get into Harvard in the first place. They found that students, even after having been taught the correct explanation for various physical phenomena, generally reverted back to their initial false explanation. In other words, it is difficult to un-teach concepts that have been incorrectly conceived. (This was a major focus of my second Master’s, in Science Education).
Tragedies happen because even in the face of new information, facts on the ground so to speak, we ignore what’s in front of us and keep trying to fit what we’re seeing with our initial explanation.
Earlier this summer, cruising south along the coast of Ireland, we were cruising at night because of the tides and currents. I see a red light in the sky off in the distance. Looking at the chart, the only explanation I could come up with was it looked like a radio tower on land about 10 miles in front of us. I don’t see any other lights, therefore it’s not a boat, otherwise I would see some combination of red, green or white light, at least two out of those three. There was nothing on the radar within 3 miles.
The seas were a bit rough, so we were bouncing around a bit and I attributed the movement of the red light to that, since radio towers on land don’t move. I periodically look at this light for the next 15 minutes. I’m sitting in my usual spot on the starboard side of the bench seat in the Krogen pilot house.
About a minute from impact, I realize it’s a sailboat coming directly at us. I grab the wheel, turning hard to starboard. He passes about 100 feet off our port side. I hail him on the VHF radio, “Sailing vessel showing a top red mast light”. He doesn’t answer, but his light suddenly turns white. Yes, he was moron, but I let him get so close because initially my mind had decided I was looking at a light far away and it then tried to fit that assumption to subsequent facts as they materialized.
Most of the time we catch it in time; sometimes we don’t.
Dauntless at Sea 