Marsh Harbor to Annapolis Via the Gulf Stream May 28 - June 2, 2006

Sailboat | Voyages | Log | Track

Eight hundred miles - Five and one-half days As food was running out Jim resorts to eating dead flying fish It was a brutal voyage The beautiful Caribbean is now behind us The cold cruel north is upon us Why did I every leave? Deserted lighthouse Thirty miles off Hatteras Notice the rough seas Mikes reads email from his wife Cindy Flies attack us in swarms in Chesapeake Bay Mike does his best to fight back The remains of the battle Over two hundred casualties After the flies comes the storm The winds reach 40 knots, and we get a dousing The Bay is such a great place to sail With a wisp of a jib out Full Circle romps at 8.2 knots Our new crew member, Jim Openshaw, landed in Marsh Harbor, Abacos, The Bahamas, at 1530. We met him at the Conch Inn Bar at 1600. By 1630 we had dinghied back to Full Circle, raised and stowed the outboard motor, raised and secured the dinghy on deck, and began motoring out of Marsh Harbor. We had a weather window and wanted to be on the open ocean before dark. We were on a mission, like a home sick horse heading for the barn. Jim brought the new brushes for the refridgerator motor, but it refused to work after I replaced the old ones. We had no refridgeration, only ice. We made it last for four days. Jim considered sampling dead flying fish, but we actually ate very well considering the fridge was out. Eggs, vegetables, and yogurt really don't have to be that cold. As we cross the 32nd parallel (32° N) the decrease in temperature is dramatic from when we left Marsh Harbor in the Abacos (26°) Sunday afternoon. From shorts and T-shirts at night, I am now wearing my full fowl weather suit, pants and jacket, with a set of long underwear underneath. And that is topped with my watch (stocking) cap pulled down over my ears. The warmth and serenity of the Caribbean is ebbing away as the cold cruel world of the north is flooding upon us. It is certainly with mixed fillings that I head home after living on Full Circle for five months. I look forward to being with family and friends, but I do not look forward to the responsibilities of everyday life. On the boat, life is distilled to its essence - food, shelter, safety, and pursuit of pleasure. The stress and complexity of modern life is set aside as the scope of one’s responsibility shrinks to the size of one boat, and life is taken one day at time. As I write, it is Wednesday afternoon, 1530; I have just finished my three hour watch. Mike is at the helm; Jim is sleeping. The weather gods have been treating us well. We motored for the first 27 hours but have been sailing ever since, except the two hours a day needed to charge the batteries. For the past two days, we have had winds in the 10 to 18 knot range from NE, E, and now SE. With the NE winds, we slid more westerly than we wanted, but with the wind shift to SE, we are back on track and progressing nicely. Our wish to get a push from the Gulf Stream has been a disappointment. So far, we don’t seem to have entered it, maybe as we get closer to Hatteras. Since leaving the Abacos, we have covered 382 miles, averaging 130 miles per day, or 5.3 knots. We should round Cape Hatteras tomorrow, Thursday evening. Hatteras is a notorious place for fowl weather and ship wrecks. The water is shallow, the Gulf Stream is strong, and the weather is shifting from a southern influence to a northern influence. Most cruisers leaving the Abacos chose to sail directly to Florida or Beaufort, SC and motor home up the intra coastal waterway, avoiding going around Hatteras on the ocean. That route takes days, even weeks, longer. It is not for us. We are voyagers. Aside from my sarcasm, it would be fun to motor through the intra coastal waterway some day, time permitting. Life as seen from the water is different from life seen from land and an automobile. The pace is slower and more deliberate, more like a bicycle, or long walk. The intra coastal waterway would provide that slow motion view. We never did get the push from the Gulf Stream that we had hoped for. We were too far from the coast. We had one day where we made 165 miles over ground, averaging 6.9 knots. The rest of the days were more typical 130 to 150 mile days. Isn't ironic the worst weather going from Annapolis to St. Martin was in the Chesapeake Bay, and now the worst weather coming home from Marsh Harbor was also in the Bay. The ocean voyage was pleasant with about 50/50 motoring and sailing. That all changed once we entered the Bay. First we were attacked by swarms of flies. Hundreds if not thousands descended upon the boat. And they didn't just sit; they dug in and sucked as much blood as they could before we crushed them creating a red, bloody mess. Jim and I retreated to the cabin and closed all the hatches. Since Mike was on watch, he remained above deck and went on the attack. Before he was done, there must have been over 200 casualties. It did little to stem the attack, but it gave Mike immensee satisfaction. It wasn't until a violent thunderstorm roared across our path, pelting us with forty knot winds, that the flies were blown away. With the wind on our stern, we put out a tiny bit of the jib and watched Full Circle leap up to 8.2 knots. The wind eventually became too strong, and we had to pull it in. We arrived in Annapolis at 0030, Saturday morning. The wind and rain had stopped, and we had an easy time navigating among the red and green lighted buoys to our slip in Horn Point Marina. Karen and a friend were there waiting for us. Full Circle was back in her slip after seven months. We were really home. The trip was actually over, done, finished. How strange! Survivors making Landfall, 0030, June 2, 2006   The trip stretched over seven months, covered over 4000 miles,and touched 37 islands. We had broken ribs and crushed hands, but no sunburn. It was a great adventure. We did overnight ocean passages with five, four, three, and two persons. In the end, I preferred making passages with a crew of three. Will we do it again next winter, probably not. November is only five months away. We have too much to do with our new house and too many things to catch up on. We have children, grandchildren, and parents to visit. Our next big adventure will have to wait until 2007. - The End - Previous