1999 Caribbean 1500
Log from August Crow, by Steve Smith
10/30/99 - Hampton, VA - 37.01 N 76.20 W
I arrived at 7:30 p.m. yesterday, and found the boat at the Hampton Public Pier with no problems and soon found Wayne and Gaye at a Caribbean 1500 party watching a slide show of the beautiful sites we were bound for in Virgin Gorda, BVI.
We got settled in and talked through some basics.
We woke up this morning to beautiful weather, and after a few chores, and getting a couple of items missing from our list of necessities, Gaye and I took the trolley to Walmart for last minute provisioning.
We were back in plenty of time for the weather briefing at 1600 for some depressing news. The weather outlook is unclear. There’s a storm in the gulf, and some other weather that could come together to cause some problems around Wednesday. There’s another briefing at 8:30 in the morning when we find out whether we are on for a start at noon, or on hold. If we’re on hold, it’s likely that we can’t go until Thursday! None of us are very excited about that! On the other hand, no one’s very happy about the thought of another Mitch (Last year two boats , but luckily no lives were lost to hurricane Mitch). So, tonight we’re holed up in the boat, waiting and wondering…
August Crow at the Hampton Public Pier
11/2/99 - Hampton, VA
We are still in Hampton awaiting a front to pass so that we can leave. We are optimistic that will happen tonight and we can leave in the morning. It’s still very warm here, but predicted to start falling rapidly with the passage of the front.
We are ready to go, and tired of waiting although it’s actually been nice to get to know many of the participants through the parties each night.
11/4/99 - 34.46 N 73 58 W
We started at noon yesterday. Wayne entered us in the race, so the start was a bit more hectic than I expected a rally start to be.
We looked to be in a perfect spot for a first or second place start when the committee boat called out 1 more minute to start! We ended up about 6th from the last in the group of 53 boats, but were soon back in the middle of the fleet.
We had a nice sail out of the Chesapeake. And were enjoying our first day at sea.
The evening watch was pretty stressful with many ships and boats around, and the winds rising to 30 kts and gusting more. We exercised the whisker pole and sailed most points of sail along the way. The auto pilot had trouble with the downwind and 8-12 ft. following seas, so we steered by hand all night. No one got much sleep, and it was very cold, with a beautiful clear moon-less night until the end of my 1:00 - 400 watch, when a sliver of the moon rose, leading Wayne and I to wonder just what sort of ship had come into view. We saw everything from sailboats in our fleet, to container ships to the Truman Nuclear aircraft carrier, so we were ready for anything.
As I was headed off watch at 4:00, we thought we were entering the gulfstream. By the time I was up again at 6:00, there was no doubt. The water temp jumped to 80 degrees and we were in a 2 - 3 kt current.
The gulf stream signaled the beginning of fishing, so I set a lure on a line behind the boat which as of 18:25 had produced nothing – o which Gaye is thankful.
This afternoon we had a small sparrow like bird pay us a visit in the cabin. He was at least 60 miles from shore, and he looked tired. After a brief stay, he was on his way. After leaving the gulf stream, the winds have slacked, and the ride is much smoother. It’s also a good bit warmer, but we are still dressed in full foul weather gear during the day, and layered with sweaters in the evening. Hopefully this will be the last cold weather night!
11/5/99 - 09:38 – 34 12 N 72 27 W
We turned east as most of the fleet already has to get away from sailing downwind. The wind has been N/NE, putting it right on our tail if we stayed on the rhumb line. We are now sailing a course of 141 degrees and at this pace and course will reach longitude 65 about 200 miles south of Bermuda in another 80 hours, where trade winds are predicted, and if so, it will be a pleasant reach into the BVI.
I thought I saw a flare last night at 0100, just coming on to watch. We tried to call the Coast Guard and were unsuccessful, then calling to any ship in the vicinity. Two of the ships in our fleet responded, and one had seen something, but thought that it was a meteorite. We later heard pieces of a conversation between the coast guard and another ship, but it was far enough out of range that we just heard bits and pieces - not enough to know whether there was a problem or not. Whatever I saw was just there a second, making me thankful that we have parachute flares should we need assistance.
11/6/99 - 08:26 - 32 31 N 70 48 W
We still haven’t caught a fish! A number of boats from the fleet have - tuna and dolphin mostly. Some Mahi Mahi on the BarB sure would be good! Yesterday was pretty uneventful. Poor winds through the day, followed by worse in the evening had us motoring all night. It’s really a pleasant way to sleep, but of course, we don’t have enough fuel to motor there. We estimate that we could motor about 6 days, 1 of which we’ve already completed.
We had an interesting experience with the radio yesterday. I tried to key up on 14300 for the Maritime Net, and heard a beep of some sort anytime I tried to transmit. We concluded that since neither Wayne or Gaye was a ham, The fellow from ICOM must have blocked those frequencies.
However, when the evening chat came around, the same thing happened on the chat frequency. I scoured the manual looking for some clue as Wayne sent our position report over the blare of the protesting beep.
Only later did Wayne think that he’d turned on the C.A.R.D (Marine Radar Detector) earlier in the day. Every time one transmitted on the radio, it sets the CARD off. I went to sleep satisfied that I hadn’t broken Wayne’s radio trying to transmit on the ham bands. The night watch was fairly uneventful with only one ship sited. After confirming via radar that we were on a collision course, I called him on the VHF. He was a sea tug pushing a huge barge, and had us on his radar. It sounded nice to be called ‘Captain’ by a real captain! This sky like last night’s was mostly clear with a beautiful, dense milky way, and a number of falling stars. The same sky we saw from ‘Red Stripe’ on Lake Texoma, but somehow different.
11/7/99 - 09:21 - 31 19 N 68 39 W
No fish yet! We had a Dorado hooked yesterday, but he got off, and I saw one other strike.
Last night a 02:00 on my watch, the winds returned. We put out sails, and were finally done motoring. Luckily so, as we found out when the prop was freewheeling while the transmission was in reverse that the transmission dip stick had come out, and we had lost most of out transmission fluid. Wayne put her in forward (engine off), and she’s stuck there! No engine until we figure something out or get help. Hopefully the winds will hold up! The forecast looks promising.
Or watches are working out great. They are as follows:
0100 - 0400 - Steve
0400 - 0700 - Wayne
0700 - 1100 - Gaye
1100 - 1500 - Steve
1500 - 1800 - All on watch - Happy hour and dinner
1800 - 2200 - Wayne
2200 - 0100 - Gaye
I get plenty of sleep during the night and can fish, do chores, and play on the radio during the day. This boat and our course are perfect for someone like me trying to avoid the sun. There’s shade somewhere in the cockpit and behind the sails all day. We’ve been eating very well and everyone’s temperament is fine, especially considering our latest challenge with the transmission.
11/8/99 - 8:50 - 29 52 N 66 15 W
Sunday turned out to be quite a day. We had solid winds all day, allowing us to make good time on our course of 130 degrees to 65 W. We averaged 6-7 knots all day. About 1300 the winds picked up to 18 kts, then 20 , as we waited for a squall that was predicted to pass us early in the evening.
During the evening chat, Wayne got on the SSB radio and talked to Spike, a mechanic aboard Peregrine about out transmission. We’d met Spike at a diesel seminar, and visited with him at the Maritime Museum in Newport News, so it was nice to know who we were talking to.
He had us use motor oil in place of the transmission fluid we were missing and the use pliers at the transmission to force it into neutral. That worked! We were then able to start the engine and shift into neutral, forward, and reverse. We don’t want to have to run that transmission any more than required, but it sure feels good to have an engine again!
The predicted squall came through 2200 and it’s been blowing 10+ ever since. We’re making great time towards 65 W, but it’s sure a bumpy ride. I was asleep when it hit, and once it did, I couldn’t get back to sleep. A combination of the boat pitching in all directions, and it sounding very bad out caused me to get up and stick my head out and ask Gaye if everything was OK. She said yes, but it sure didn’t sound like it!
Once I took my watch at 0100, it had died down just enough to be fun. This was the ultimate night sailing! 22 kt wind, a clear sky, and flying along at 7.5-8 kts in 6 ft. seas – what a ride!
I awoke this morning (I could sleep once I’d been topside and seen how well the boat was handling it), to predictions that these winds will hold, and perhaps freshen over the next couple of days. Trying to shower under these conditions will be interesting!
11/9/99 - 18:39 - 26 59 N 63 39 W
Today was pretty uneventful. We’ve had nice wind, and are making good progress. We passed our waypoint below Bermuda and are on a reach south down 65 headed to the BVI with a mere 525 miles to go.
The day started off with some excitement as we hooked a fish shortly after putting in the line, but this one, like the last two, got off. I suspect that I’m not setting the hook hard enough. I’m not sure what sort of mouth a tuna or Dorado has, and I’m certainly not used to using a and line.
Our latest calculations have us making landfall Saturday morning if the winds hold out. There’s talk on the weather that a tropical depression could cause us some trouble along the way. We hope to be past before it shows up. Herb (Southbound II) one 13259 at 1600 Island time has been a godsend. We’re getting much better weather reports from him than from our ‘official’ source.
Last night’s watch was another beauty! A sky full of stars and 4 shooting stars. I’m going to miss these!
We passed within 3/4 of a mile of a very large tanker today. Wayne called him, and he acknowledged us, but it took a second call for him to realize that we were on a collision course, and alter course. He was BIG!
As I go to bed, I’m listening to tonight’s chat which will likely be filled with talk about the possible tropical depression.
We just got word that Ken on ‘Aquilla’ is arriving tonight, with two more boats shortly behind. We’ll see them in about 4 days…
11/10/99 - 16:40 - 24 25 N 64 24 W
We finally caught a fish! I’m not very sure what kind! We’re pretty sure it was a tuna – about 20 - 24" long. Gaye was pretty upset about seeing it hooked, so we didn’t kill it and clean it. She doesn’t want any more fishing!
We’re making great time today. We should get to Virgin Gorda Friday evening or Saturday morning, and hopefully the storms in the region won’t affect us. Our worry for the day is that we’re taking on a good bit of water from some unfound and inaccessible area. I don’t think it will affect our trip, but Wayne and Gaye make be looking at having the boat pulled soon after our arrival. Not really the way one wants to start their retirement, as this is of course their home.
10/11/99 - 08:36 - 22 36 N 64 29 W
It’s blowing 20-25 out of the southeast, with 10-12 ft seas. We are headed due south and hope to be in Spanish Town tomorrow night, perhaps before dark It’s tough going on this point of sail. We take a cockpit full of water over the dodger very now and again, and everything is soaked topsides. Below, it’s warm (hot!) and stuffy, as we can’t open any hatches. We are all ready to be there!
10/12/99 - 7:21 20 15 N 64 25 W
Last night was supposed to be our last night watch. We are not making as good a progress as scheduled due to some adverse currents from the Puerto Rico trench. We’d hoped to make landfall shortly after dark, but now it looks like shortly before dawn. No other news, as yesterday and last night was uneventful. 20 kt winds out of the east with 10-12 ft seas. Everyone’s holding on all of the time, and when on forgets, they have a nasty bruise to show for it.
10/14/99 - Virgin Gorda Yacht Harbor, BVI
It became apparent mid-day that we were going to be in this adverse current for some time. And our ETA had shifted to 12:00- 02:00 Saturday morning.
Our first challenge was to safely pass Anegada to our port. Anegada is the first of the Virgin Isles and dangerous, as it’s only 28 ft high at its highest point, and scattered with the wrecks of many ships who didn’t see it in time. Most charter companies won’t allow their boats anywhere near Anegada.
As we approached range of it’s one white light that is charted, we were looking for a light that flashed every 10 seconds. What we saw instead were strobe-like flashes that seemed to come from a few hundred feet above where Anegada should be. It was a brilliant flash, but random in timing, and far further apart than any sort of navigation light.
We must have spent 20-30 minutes trying to figure out what it could be, referring to radar, and charts in between flashes.
Eventually, the light took on a shape and nature more characteristic of its origin, It was lightning!
While we were happy to have the mystery solved, it was perhaps a bad omen for our landfall.
Before long we had Anegada identified well off of our port side, and were on our way into Virgin Gorda, looking for ‘the dogs’, which was our next obstacle. The dogs are three small uninhabited islands that lay to your port side as you approach Spanish Town in Virgin Gorda from the north.
With Anegada safely passed, the weather began deteriorating ahead. Lightning was prominent in many of the dark clouds that blocked our view into whatever might lay ahead, and dense rainfall came in waves.
Through all of this, the fact that we didn’t know if our transmission would allow us to start our engine, or shift into forward if it started, weighed on each our minds.
We’d been sailing with a single reefed main, a stays’l and a 150 jib, and it was obviously time to shorten sail. As we tried to furl the jib, something fouled the port sheet ad I headed forward to clear it.
Naturally I was harnessed in, but it was still a bit stressful as the rain was falling in sheets, and the sea was shin deep as I made my way up the deck. That moment was the most stressful I’d experienced in my 7 years of sailing, but that record would be short lived.
Once the jib was furled, we sailed through squall after squall, looking through the blackness hoping for some sign of our landfall. We had 3 GPS’s on board, but it’s still scary sailing at 7+ knots into total blackness, knowing there are many islands – some unlit in your path.
Finally we were close enough to feel that it was time to test out engine. If it didn’t start, the plan was to anchor outside the marina and call for help. The anchor was stowed for the passage, so if we needed it, it would take a few minutes to ready it.
Luckily the transmission shifted into neutral with no problems, and the engine started fine.
Wayne and I went forward to lower the main, and were no sooner started, than one of the worst squalls I’ve ever seen hit. Gaye was at the helm, and complained later that not only could she not see us at the mast, but that the pelting rain stung her face enough that it was hard to even face forward. She was screaming at us to come back to the cockpit, or at least into her view, as we struggled to put away the main.
Once we were all back in the cockpit, it was time to go refer again to the charts and GPS, to try to find out just how to get into the Virgin Gorda Yacht Harbor. We’d been assured that no matter when we made landfall there would be someone there to help us in, as the Virgin Gorda Yacht Harbor has a challenging entry, even in daylight.
We motored at 3-4 kts through black and pelting rain for another 20 minutes or so until finally the weather eased a bit, and we started seeing some island lights. The fact that the lights came into view suddenly as the weather began lifting made them seem uncomfortably close, and we were back at the charts trying to make the GPS, chart and 3 pairs of eyes all agree.
Once we were clear on our position, we called in for the help that was promised only to find that they’d taken the night off. We were on our own!
The marker buoys were visible and well lit, and we were headed in.
However, after two sets of marked buoys, there was nothing to be seen!
Gaye jumped on the radio and asked for help which was quick in coming. They urged someone to the bow with a spotlight, and I was on my way before she had time to respond.
The literature told us of a 90 degree turn to starboard after entry, and we were well into our turn when I saw and heard surf ! Directly ahead were breaking waves!
The spotlight soon caught the unlit red nun we’d missed, and Wayne was just able to turn us hard enough to port to clear the nun, and get us headed down the channel as opposed to the reef.
After making the channel, we saw the flashlights of 15 - 20 Caribbean 1500 participants who were showing us the way to the spot on the dock that we were to tie up to. Only after accepting all of their help in getting out lines tied off did I realize that it was 3:00 in the morning, and that all of these folks who’d just completed the same crossing as us were out of their bunks in the middle of the morning to help us in.
Any complaints I might have about the organizers of this event are more then made up for by the participants.
It took Wayne, Gaye and I an hour or so, and a scotch or two to calm down enough to congratulate ourselves on a safe passage, and a successful landfall in what were clearly the worst conditions any of the 3 of us had experienced.
August Crow safe in the Virgin Gorda Yacht Harbor awaiting Hurricane Lenny
