Bermuda to Azores | Day 9
Yesterday is one for the books. I am a little bleary-eyed as I write this and not sure if I can string together a coherent sentence. But I’ll give it a shot.
In the morning, we discovered that our AC power was no longer working. That meant we were unable to use any electrical outlets to charge laptops or power cooking devices. Thankfully, Ken has worked hard to have much of our boat on DC power, so major systems like refrigeration, navigation, and internet were unaffected. Thankfully, after a couple of hours, he isolated the issue and has provided a temporary solution until we can get to the Azores to address it further. He also resolved the watermaker issue. We are making water as I type. Two wins!
We found ourselves navigating the first of two fronts. It was a beautiful day, really. Winds were a consistent 25 kts—elevated but not at all unmanageable. Remedy performs really well in that. She’s a great boat. But we have to make sure we set her up to do what she can do so well. We knew the winds would increase later in the day. Remedy’s main sail is an in-boom furling system with unlimited reefing potential. We reefed to what would essentially be a triple-reef on the more common slab reefing system. The headsail was also heavily reefed.
Monica and I were enjoying a delightful conversation and admiring the impressive waves. They rose in concert with one another, slowly lifting Remedy up, and then as they crested, Remedy would slide down the back side of the wave into the trough—that wave behind us and the next ready to lift us up again. We sat at the bottom of a trough, looking at the walls of water surrounding us, enjoying this surreal moment with a combination of awe, peace, and humility. And within a matter of seconds, the winds went from 25 to 40 kts, and the waves grew more fierce and came in rapid succession. Rather than providing us a gentle lift, they started pushing us around like the neighborhood bully. Ken, who had been sleeping below, felt the building waves rumbling under the boat and came to see how things were going. All of a sudden, a wave overpowered our autopilot and began pushing us hard to port. The boat turned then up into the wind, putting us broadside to the waves. I jumped up to grab the helm and get us back on course, but then another one came with equal force right behind it and pushed us hard over.
By this point, Ken is at the helm and starts handsteering for about 45 minutes until things abate enough for us to make further sail adjustments. The weather had arrived earlier than predicted, and we needed to address it quickly. Once the seas were more manageable, we decided to heave to, which would allow us to further reef the mainsail more safely than if we turned into the wind and waves. We left around 6 feet of the mainsail up, knowing the rest of the day would be high-wind. For the rest of the day, we saw winds consistently in the high twenties, with gusts into the mid-thirties. Thankfully, the seas abated some—we saw at least 15 feet at the worst point, but they were consistently 13 feet throughout the day. This is manageable when they come at longer intervals, giving the boat time to rise and fall before the next wave comes. Most of the day provided that precious time for us, except for that tenuous hour.
Yesterday was an all-hands-on-deck kind of day. None of us got our post-watch naps. We all remained in the cockpit, ready to assist and address issues that arose.
As stressful as it was, the day still provided joy, levity, and beauty. As Monica was trying to film the waves on video (something impossible to do with our iPhone cameras), she captured two dolphins leaping out of the waves. In the midst of the wind-tossed seas, these dolphins were having an absolute blast. And then a rainbow appeared.
Today, the skies are beautiful. The seas are super rolly, but I will take that all day long after yesterday. This will give us a much-needed breather from the last 36 to 48 hours.
We have once again adjusted our course slightly in light of the next front, expected to arrive tomorrow night and Thursday. This increases our mileage by a little over 300 miles, but will allow for a more comfortable final approach into Horta. None of us wants to skid sideways down anymore 15-foot waves.
All is well.
Day Nine Stats
Nautical Miles Sailed In The Last 24 Hours 164.7
Average Boat Speed 6.9 kts
Max Boat Speed 9.9 kts
GPS Coordinates 36 34.657N 42 28.258W
Miles to go 832
I have posted videos on the website, so if you are reading this via email, be sure to check out the link to the original post.
