20100116 Back in the US…Back in the US…Back in the USA

20100116 Back in the US…Back in the US…Back in the USA The passage from Lucaya, Grand Bahama Island to Ft. Pierce mirrored our other overnight passages during our adventure. Up early, we bathed, ate and at 8am, I walked up to the dock office at the Grand Bahama Yacht Harbour to settle our bill. The day was beautiful, with high scattered clouds above bright sunlit skies. Casting off, we backed slowly out of our slip and headed across the waterway to Port Lucaya Yacht Club, since GBYH still did not have fuel. We were the first customer at Port Lucaya, where the high flow gas pumps develop vapor lock overnight. The fuel flows, but slowly. This is preferred by Angel, since the tortuous path from the fuel fill opening through the tank is easily overwhelmed by high flows. We enjoyed the morning, while the 20 gallons needed for Angel slowly and without attention, filled her tank. Fully fueled, secured and ready for sea, we motored out of the Bell Channel around 9am, turning starboard at the buoy, paralleling the beach, headed west. Passing Freeport Harbor, we had to swing wide to avoid shipping traffic, but mused at the activity of the pilot boat and two tugs that emerged from the harbor entrance to help the freighter ESC Adrian to the docks. At Xanadu, the south western corner of Grand Bahama Island, we turned northwest, slanting every westward toward the gulf stream, heading toward home. After 5 hours we passed West End, Grand Bahama Island. The water became every more blue. All this time the winds were fair, pushing us on a broad reach, then beam reach to a healthy speed of 5.7 knots. After another 2 hours, I spied the sail of an oncoming vessel emerging over the horizon in front of us. This sailboat passed to our starboard and I hailed her. The good ship “Scarlett” was only 7 hours out of West Palm Beach. Later we heard her hail the Old Bahama Marina in West End, arriving around 3pm. After some quick calculations, we found that Scarlett had made the 82 nautical mile transit in just 8 hours, averaging over 10 knots for the entire trip! We are SOOOOOO… envious. In doubling our speed, she arrived with crew relatively rested and could easily complete her passages in smaller weather windows. Cathy and I discussed at length the advantages of fast cruisers for hours. At dusk the winds clocked around to the east, pushing us onward; however, they shifted before 9pm, hitting us on our nose, and the sails had to be stored. We motored onward toward the gulf stream and I noticed that the ocean swell was from the east-south-east helping us as well. With practice, I could control the angle of attack of the wave on our stern and Angel surfed down the face of the wave gaining speed. It was common for us to accelerate form 5 to 8.5 knots during the downhill slide. Through the night, I tried to maintain course, but traveling in a direction, even a few degrees in contrast to the increasing swell would dramatically swing the stern one way or the other off course. I then had to fight with the tiller to move us back on course before the next wave set a few seconds later. Since the waves were 6-8 feet in size, this swing was accompanied by stomach churning lifting and then drop with the radical sideways movement. It reminded me of riding a Tilt-O-Whirl at the fair. Cathy went below to secure herself and check that our stuff was tied down. At the apex of the fair ride, in the gulf stream at mid-night, we reached a speed of 10.9 knots. This shortened our trip, but only at a cost of energy and mental focus. It only took a few seconds of inattention to start the ride anew. One wave caught us and after passing, had taken the 35 foot, 12,000 pound sailboat and spun her 180 degrees, so briefly, we were headed back to the Bahamas. Of special note were the flying fish in the Atlantic Ocean. Before dusk, they launched themselves from the wave tops, cruising on fragile fin-wings for 30 yards or more, before reentering the water with hardly a splash. After dark, moonbeams and navigation lights revealed brief glimpses of silvery glints as the fish took flight. One wayward flyer, around 1am, launched himself skyward and as I sat in the cockpit, steering Angel, the fish hit me in the forehead! An inch lower and my eye would have been at risk. Both he and I fell stunned to the floor of the cockpit. I survived. He was transported to the US laying on top of the port side scupper. Onward we traveled and it became evident to me, we would arrive early, beating our 6am arrival in Ft. Pierce, FL. At 2:45am, I called Cathy to join me in the cockpit to help decipher the navigation lights of the Ft. Pierce Channel. Together, Cathy with flashlight, binoculars and chart, with me at the tiller, we motored onward, leaving the swell in the ocean as we moved into the channel, finding the intercoastal waterway, where we had passed by 6 weeks ago. We cruised by the marina, where we planned to stay, hoping to tie up at the fuel dock for a few hours, but the channel was unlighted, so we reversed course, finding a good anchorage at 5am in 10 feet of water just off the ICW, ½ mile away. I slept in the cockpit in my foul weather gear on anchor watch. Cathy dozed below. At 7am, we rose, ate and had hot tea to boost our energy level and spirits. We called the marina and were invited to come on in for fuel and a slip. With 20 gallons of gas on-board and secured in our slip, we spent the day showering, resting, capped off with a dinner out in Ft. Pierce. Both Cathy and I are exhausted. I am sore and stiff, but after 24 hours, the leg and hand cramps from the all night tug-of-war with the tiller, are diminishing. Today, we will rent a car for Cathy to drive back to Charleston. Her parents are celebrating their 60 year anniversary next week and she will attend. I will take Angel back to Charleston via the ICW over the next week or so. Cathy and Jim