First short passage to adventure

Getting ready to go

Talk about sleepy heads… I must admit that even I didn't get much sleep the night before our first real offshore voyage from St. Maarten to the British Virgin Islands, about 81 nautical miles west. Despite the calm anchorage in Marigot Bay and prospect of light winds and calm seas the next day, 3am came around just as I dropped off into a light snooze and it took only a few moments to jump up and put the coffee on. Judging by the silence and lack of motion on Odessa, I guessed that everyone had been having trouble sleeping. There is a good lesson here… when you've spent a long time on the dock, the first night on the hook is always a little tough… different sounds, motion and of course the faith in your anchor required for a proper nights sleep.

The morning light began to fill the sky as the third cup of coffee was poured, and we had been scuttling around the deck in the dark preparing Odessa to take the wind in hand. Lots of lines to make loose, rig to tighten and all safety precautions checked. The best invention in the world is the headlamp! after having a couple of cheap ones and being very sad when they crapped out, I plumped for an expensive waterproof adventure one with mega power, red led for night, green light for night vision and blue for stealth (not sure what that means, but it's cool). The other thing to look out for is one with the batteries in a separate pack on the back of the head band (balanced), with a blinky red light on the battery pack and a third strap that goes over the top of your head… super comfy and the blinky is great for running the dingy at night.

The lifting light was very welcome, signaling the time for departure and the beginning of our adventure.

As we slipped out of Marigot Bay and into the Anguila Channel, the wind was light 8 to 10 kits on our starboard beam and we had nice speed with both the main sail and Geno reefed… we began our adventure being cautious just in case we had another dodgy weather report. Odessa cruised this way making 7 to 9kts for a couple of hours as the sun lifted slowly revealing the silhouette of St. Maarten. At that rate we'd be into the BVI's early and even with beaming swells it was quite comfortable as Odessa sliced through the deepest blue water I've seen in a while.

Life settled down on the boat, the kids did school work, slept, eat, slept, ate and repeated the cycle. St. Maarten drifted off into the distance and we had Tuna all around us. Now, I do love fishing, but dropping sail to go chasing Tuna wasn't on the cards for our first passage and some apprehension about navigating into unknown islands hung in the air. Prudence payed off as the wind dropped to 5kts and below, our speed dropped accordingly and the ETA reading on the chart plotter climbed to the dark hours of the night.

We gave it an hour to see if the wind would cooperate,.. but not fancying entering an unknown anchorage at night, it was time to use the engine. With the engine slow cruising at 2000 rpm and sails up we got back to a respectable 7 to 8 kts still maintaining a quite sail like ambiance. Some may say why not drop the sails, but we had two swells, one on the beam and one on the stern and keeping the sails up gave us 2kts of extra speed and stabilized Odessa keeping her healing slightly to port with a nice purposeful motion… dropping the sails would mean running the engine harder and slopping about with the double swell direction.

A tuna grabbed a lure… the reel screamed for a few seconds and then it was gone. Two heads popped up from the cabin with great expectation on their faces, but soon slipped back when the boys realized the fish had gone. This happened a couple of times just to keep us on our toes, but for some reason we couldn't get them to hook up… dreams of a fresh fish dinner were fading as the day progressed. Our attention was soon switched to Izzy jumping up and down shouting "an island, an island" and sure enough the British Virgin Islands began to appear on the horizon. Now we had only been out of sight of St. Maarten for a couple of hours, but it is very exciting to get a glimpse of your destination, in this case Virgin Gorda. As we approached the ocean floor shot up to 125ft below our keel, then a minute later dropped to over 5000ft. We checked the chart and had just crossed a sea mount, bewildered and thankful that our electronics were working, the reel screamed again as we saw a Mahi Mahi grab the lure right behind the boat. Then silence, we looked hard for the tell tale flashes of green, yellow and boom, it came back around and hit the "bubbleboy" lure a little further back. Dinner was back on… however, as soon as we grabbed the fishing pole the fish simply let go of the lure… very fussy these inter-island fish…. we may have to rethink our presentation.

Our thoughts switched again to entering the island chain. The entrance we had chosen was between Fallen Jerusalem and Virgin Gorda, a small channel with two huge boulders "The Blinders" that sit in the middle just breaking the surface… a little unsettling during the day and bloody dangerous at night. Fortunately we had made good time and would arrive at 3:30pm, half an hour earlier than expected.

Everything looks bigger on a chart: Wow, it was a small entrance and the two boulders in the middle seemed to take up the whole channel. The dramatic cliffs, almost prehistoric look of the landscape added to the tension as we rolled the genoa and carefully made our way with an eagle eye on the depth sounder. "boy do those boulders look ominous.. "whizz" went one of the reels, no time for that as another fish teased us about dinner. We powered through the current surging out of the island chain with the engine, and entered a new world… the British Virgin Islands.

Second shakedown cruise... boy did it suck

Ok... so the title may be a bit strong, but the worst thing about a perfect first shakedown cruise is that the second one is almost guaranteed to be worse.

So the scene is set... weather forecast 10 to 15kts, we're all ready and planning on a lovely run to St. Barths, even though it's an upwind run.

The first thing we noticed was the biggest mega yacht in the world anchored right behind us. It's rumored to have a laser detection and deterrent system to stop people from taking pictures... so we went and videoed it.




After that little diversion we check the many lines on Odessa's rig, loosen up stuff that has to run out and unclip everything that we're going to need. Instead of raising the main sail on anchor and then motoring out, we tried raising it on the way out of the bay because we were heading dead into the wind (note to aspiring sailors, only change one thing at a time).

Well, all goes well as we head out in the lee of the island, and we don't notice that with one reef in the sail for safety, we had neglected to let the boom tilt fully up (a line that was supposed to be loose... wasn't) and the back reef line was 6 feet longer than it should be. This is no big deal normally, but as soon as we got out of the wind shadow of St. Maarten and discovered the issue, the wind stiffened to 20 to 25kts and we were making good speed.... but in the wrong direction.

To make it a nice one "tack" run to St. Barths you need to run close hauled, that is 15 degrees off and into the wind, and we couldn't reach more than 35 degrees without the main sail flogging... it was simply too loose with a massive luff (due to the reef line not "outhauling" the back of the sail to the boom). A quick look round and we identified the problem, but fixing it proved to be another matter.

After an hour working on the jammed reef line with now over 25kts loading up the sail... I'd had enough. We came about and ran downwind heading back to St. Maarten. Downwind is awesome sailing with no concept of speed, no wind across the deck and no sounds apart from the bow slicing through the swells.

We messed around trying to fix the problem and despite crash jibing a couple of times (destroying our main sheet track lines), getting swung out on the boom without my harness clipped on and generally having fun, I could see the looks of horror coming from my crew. I have to remember that my family has never sailed before, they're not familiar with the sounds, the creaking as line under heavy load on big winches creeps and groans, the sheer power of the wind is felt through out the boat and your senses.

Sensing the "no fun faces" I decided to forget St. Barths and head into Simpson Bay to fix the rig and set it up properly. It was a difficult night as we assessed a growing list of things that we now realized needed to be fixed, the ground swell was rolling heavily from the south east and the north east wind kept the swell on our beam... very rolley.

The next morning we decided on a nice downwind sail to the Angulia Channel using just the Genoa foresail and left the main sail tucked away in its bag. We definitely needed to rerun our reefing lines and make them come back to the cockpit where we would be able to manage them in safety. Down wind was lovely but as we got into the Anguila Channel the wind swung north east and ripping at 20+ kts again, we weren't caught out, but not in the mood to wrestle with the sails again or go crashing across the channel tacking back and forth just to get a couple of miles.

We rolled up the Genoa and motored dead into wind up to Grand Case and found a lovely spot to drop anchor and enjoy the rest of the weekend.

Izzy happy to be sailing... she likes it when we're reaching and the sailing is more dramatic.

Simon doesn't care too much about sailing, he just want's to get there and go swimming.

Before you get too comfortable "go and dive the anchor" says Doreen.

The water is amazingly clear and full of turtles.

The nicest thing about having a deep draft is that you tend to anchor further off the beach and enjoy the serenity of the anchorage.

We still can't get over how beautiful the sunsets are... but, in stark contrast the second shake down cruise made it clear that we need a third, and a lot of work before we get out again. Four weeks and then we'll be ready to run to the BVI's (80 miles), but this time we're also going with other boats and de-powering the rig right out of the bay.

SHAKE DOWN

Finally... after being 18 months into our 6 month refit plan, we escaped the lagoon for Odessa's first shakedown cruise. Yes, 18 months stuck on the island, but to be fair we did take a 4 month diversion during the summer. I can't describe how ready we were to leave the dock and begin the real adventure, spirits were high and everyone began counting down the hours to the bridge opening.

The big day arrived and the last minute chores began... the boys dove the propeller to clean off any growth and make sure that the folding prop actually folded. It's amazing how quickly barnacles and general lagoon scum grows on your bottom... especially the unprotected parts like the propeller and shaft.

Major chores done, and we we're planning on the special 11:00am bridge opening. It is regatta week and there are more bridge openings over the next few days. We also wanted to take advantage of the confusion and slip out with the 30 or so boats heading out to practice for the following race days. The rules are a bit confusing with the island being two countries and the fact that Odessa had been on the Dutch side of the lagoon for 2 years, but is checked in through the French side.

Well, the preparations took longer and we ended up having to wait for the 4:30pm bridge, but we were ready. Engine purring we slipped out of Porto Cupecoy, with the many friends that we have made here all standing on the dock... it was almost sad because everyone knows that we'll be leaving permanently soon and our shakedown was the first real sign that proper goodbyes were coming.

Motoring across the lagoon we chatted about all of the places we'd been along the way, we waved to our cruiser friends living on the many boats anchored along the lagoon channel as we approached the bridge.

Crossing beneath this singe concrete and steel break in the cycle of life on the island felt very strange, exciting yes, but also sad. All of the cars stuck in miles of traffic waiting for the bridge to drop, each one wishing us every insult for interrupting their lives, and the revelers at the yacht club all cheering and excited about the next 3 days of racing and parties. Island life is a strange and diverse ecosystem all condensed into a few square miles of rock.

As we passed under the bridge I felt a huge weight lifting from my shoulders, the unknown was sweeping over us like a blanket... it was warm, soft and comfortable... we felt freedoms allure pulling us through the channel and out into the ocean.

Wow... it's crowded!
There must have been 100 boats anchored in the bay, so we slipped quietly around to the outside edge of the fleet... and back in close to the beach, next to the runway. The sun began its last push for the horizon so we dropped our anchor through the crystal clear water and set it into the pure white sand 20ft below.

We were a bit stunned and sat in the cockpit in silence... everything was different now, quiet, calm and comfortable. Devon cooked up some dinner and we discussed tomorrows adventure until we simply couldn't stay awake anymore. But, everything was different... each sound new, and the movement of Odessa under the influence of a gentle ground swell sweeping across the bay from the south east and light breeze from the north east. I set the anchor alarm and we settled in to get some rest for the big day tomorrow... not so easy as the excitement and newness of everything made for little sleep.

Morning came early... 5:00am I think. Coffee got my body moving and we watched the racing boats pouring out of the lagoon. Once they we're released for the round island race we pulled anchor and slipped out from the turquoise water to the deep blue of the ocean.

Raising the main sail we set one reef so that we didn't get over powered on our first experience with Odessa. How she sails is unknown at this point, so best to keep the sail pattern short, even though it was only a 10 knot day and the weather perfect.

We also unfurled the Genoa, a big cruising sail and felt Odessa surge forward as the wind filled our sails, she leaned a little under the influence of her fuel and showed her purpose as she turned the wind into power transforming from a bobbing motor boat to a knife slicing through the water. Her balance is perfect, she tracks beautifully, smooth and without any drama. We ran off wind following the regatta fleet, but heading out deeper into the blue to find stronger more consistent wind.

Smiles all round. I had forgotten that Doreen and the kids had never sailed before. For me it was still a bit of a challenge, but I knew what to expect. I can't imagine the feeling of relief for my family when each one realized just how amazing it is to be in balance with nature and her forces, and said "I love sailing". This meant so much to me because I also realized that Doreen and the children know how much I love the ocean, sailing and adventure. But, it began as "my" dream and up until now they weren't sure if it was theirs. My heart sang all day as I watched the smiles and excitement oozing from my family.

We lucked into some better wind a few miles offshore and zipped along at an amazing pace, 8 knots in 10 knots of wind under short sail and dragging our heavy dingy and huge outboard behind us. We went to full main and found some more speed as we made the turn to head up the Anguila channel towards Marigot. To our amazement we began catching the smaller class regatta racers who had been hugging the shoreline for the shortest rout along the course, but only found light fluky winds. Being careful not to get too exuberant we began beating into wind as we passed the course marker, and spent time practicing our tacking and shortening sail. Odessa leaned a little more as we made the fastest point of sail and we zipped along with no drama and a cool breeze sweeping across the cockpit.

Doreen and Simon made lunch as we sailed and the conversation swung from sailing to fishing. I'm surprised the boys were able to contain themselves for so long, but as we turned to beat back to the anchorage it was time to get some lines wet.

We hooked up very quickly, but as we were close to shore we caught Jacks and Barracuda... no good for dinner but great for fun. It was a perfect day, Odessa sailed far better than expected, our new rig performed beautifully and everyone had an amazing time. The 18 months of work had all been worth it and even though we still have a few weeks on the island and several boat as well as work projects to finish, we have a new confidence, a refreshed sense of adventure and the allure of the unknown has gripped us again.