The Velcro Effect

They call Georgetown "Chicken Harbour" and with good reason. Traveling to the Bahamas can be daunting to the novice sailor (I can say this from experience) but traveling deep water passages to the Caribbean islands beyond can be downright scary! I prefer to think of it as having a Velcro Effect - we had been wanting to leave for about two weeks, but constant volleyball games and begging of friends to stay for "one last sundowner" had kept us firmly entrenched in the Georgetown social scene, thus delaying our departure date.

So, finally yesterday morning, we got our butts in gear and headed off towards islands more East. The wind was predicted to be 15-20, building throughout the day. We set a reef in the sail and headed for the cut. The waves were manageable and I maneuvered us through the twists and turns around the reefs with caution. It wasn't until we turned to the NorthEast and out the final leg of the cut that we felt the full force of the waves. 3-5 foot waves, in close intervals, straight on the bow. These waves are not that large, but having them so close together made it hard for me to keep her on course and we were taking every other wave over the bow; the anchor was even being lifted out of the chock and slammed back down in place (luckily we double lock it in place these days!). After 30 minutes of driving straight through the waves, we were able to make a turn to starboard where we could have the wind (and waves) more comfortably on our beam.

We had our hopes set on making it to Rum Cay, but the weather had other plans. The wind had come around to a more NorthEast direction instead of the predicted North and thus would have been right on the nose to get to Rum. So, we picked Door Number 2 and headed East to Thompson Bay, Long Island. The wind was on the beam and even with a reefed mainsail being our only canvas up, we were heeled over quite a bit and making good time. For a short period, the wind fell off a bit and we got brave and thought we would put out our jib. This worked well for about an hour and we were getting fantastic speed, but when the wind picked up again, we were well over-canvassed and heeled over at a steady 25 degrees. While we no longer consider ourselves "novice" sailors, I am by no mean a salty sailor either and in fact prefer my boat to be more upright that heeled over (I know, I know, I should live on a catamaran!). Unfortunately with so much air in the sails and reef on our starboard side, there wasn't really much to do about this except hang on. While I was talking myself out of a panic attack, Brad held the helm steady and kept reassuring me that the boat was fine (thank god for my captain!). In my mind, I knew the boat was nowhere near its limits, but I could not say the same for myself!

After passing by the reefs, we were able to bring in the jib and sail the rest of the way in relative comfort. The winds had piped up to 20 knots by the time we reached Long Island and we were happy that we had left as early as we did - being out in 20 knot winds is NOT my idea of fun as it turns out.

With every intention of only staying here for the night, we were much chagrined to listen to the weather reports today and learn that this heavy East wind is forecasted to stay through the week. So, we will tune in again tomorrow, check multiple sources and see if our best bet is to stay here or try to sneak in small sails to islands farther along our course.

For now, a drink to the Sea Gods that we made it safely is in definite order for both of us!


Oh Captain My Captain!

I snuck my head over the Lee side of the boat for a quick pic; you can see how close the rail is to the waves rushing by:

This is how heeled over we were - I was obviously on the high side with the water way down behind me. And we were so heeled over that Koa has head lodged on the side of the lee seat, because that was actually flatter than the bottom of the cockpit where his bed was!