Antigua to Azores. The Lonely Passage!

Mid Atlantic Musings followed by our the end of voyage date and details.

We set off from Antigua on the morning of 4th May 2023. Our initial weather forecast had been complex, featuring both the Bermuda and Azores highs, a trough, a ridge and squalls were also mentioned! We were expecting a light wind passage so we filled up our fuel tank and extra jerry cans at the fuel dock before we exited from Freeman’s Bay and passed the Pillars of Hercules.

Then we turned east towards the rising sun and the Azores.

“Blue, blue, electric blue

That's the colour of my room

Where I will live

Blue, blue."

I wonder if David Bowie ever sailed across the ocean because as soon as we set off that song kept playing in my head?! On the first day of our voyage we had perfect sailing conditions and with very few clouds to break up the sky it certainly was a blue on blue experience. Calm seas and light winds forward of the beam (middle of the boat) meant we glided along nicely at 6 knots. We flew our storm jib to add a little more canvas, it probably only adds a quarter of a knot to our boat speed, but over thousands of miles that adds up! The moon was full on the second day and appeared large and very spherical through our binoculars.

For a couple of days the sun set in the west, a blazing orange ball of light, at the same time as the large yellow full moon rose in the east. The reverse of this astronomical concert happened in the morning when the moon had traversed the night sky. By morning it was a bright white disc which slid gracefully downwards off stage just as the sun appeared on the other side of the world, radiantly pink and perky. Dawn and twilights were beautifully serene with a 360 degree horizon and unrestricted view, this was the ultimate in existential meditation.

By the end of day two the winds had dropped and we started the engine but kept the sails up so we were motor sailing. We had bought extra jerry cans of fuel and also managed to purchase a second hand spinnaker from the sail loft at Nelson’s dockyard for a reasonable price so we were well prepared for a light wind passage. We eventually launched the spinnaker on Monday 8th May when we changed direction slightly more northwards but we only flew it for a couple of hours before the wind shifted and we were back to white sails. Our new spinnaker sail is also blue and considerably larger than our old one but we didn’t have any problems putting it up or getting it down so we were pleased with our purchase. We flew it a few more times during the passage, getting more slick at managing the lines and and ropes until we could launch it in 5 minutes and get it down in a similar time.

Our crew Laurence lives in Manchester and has been sailing with us, on and off since 1988. He and our friend Joanne joined us to sail across the channel in our first sailing boat called Bilbo. The following summer they met us in Oban on our way back from Scandinavia and over the years Laurence has crewed for Richard on a few deliveries. Back in 1988 when we were in Calais eating baguettes on Bilbo, non of us thought or imagined we would be sailing together mid Atlantic 35 years later. Laurence reminded us that on our first trip we had run aground on the Goodwin Sands in the Channel. Luckily, that didn’t put him off and our navigation skills have improved since then as well as our experience, at least we haven’t gone aground lately!

We continued making steady progress by motor-sailing and keeping the engine revs low to eke out the fuel. Occasionally the wind would drop too low and we put the flapping foresail away and just motored along with the main sail centred until the wind re appeared and we were sailing across the surface of planet earth once more. A few hours later the wind would decrease and the engine would go on, then when it freshened we were sailing again. And so it went on. Some days we had sufficient wind to sail which was a relief from the engine noise, but for the first week we mostly combined the two and plodded along between 5 and 6 knots (nautical miles/hour), which is not very fast when you have over 2000 miles to cover. Richard and I are well adapted to passing our time, reading, doing a variety of puzzles, exercising, singing , playing music, star watching, cooking and cleaning. We also managed chess and backgammon with a magnetic board and one game of a Banagrams before the boat heeled over too far. I think our crew, Laurence, was hoping for a bit more excitement, but we were quite happy with a benign and boring two weeks.

Our planned route across the ocean was south of the rhumb line, which was not much longer than if we took the Great Circle route. We chose this because of the wind direction as we need less wind when going in an upwind direction due to apparent wind assistance. Considerations which are all part of planning a long passage, along with the Bill of Watch and provisioning. There is more to sailing than first appears and being completely isolated from shops, supplies, wifi and the most of the world for two weeks is a blend of an endurance test and a survival challenge. We only managed to catch 2 fish, both in the first week, which were sufficient for a few meals, a tuna and a Mahi Mahi, it would have been nice to get another in the second week but we were sailing a bit faster and we lost our favourite lure with the fish that got away!

Monday 8th May on our 0600 log entry we had moved north of the Tropic of Cancer, (23 degrees north) and out of the tropics. Ironically we were accompanied by four tropic birds. These beautiful, elegant white birds have long, long tails and we have seen them around the world nesting on cliffs from Christmas Island to St. Helena. They seemed to consider Celtic Star might be an island for them to explore, or perhaps they were attracted to our long white radio antenna on top of the mast. It might look like a sexy Tropic Bird ‘s tail to them! As they circled the boat they were calling constantly in squeaky chirrups, similar to a creaky hinge and not at all reflective of their pretty appearance, but charming in a “long distance lonely sailor likes any company” sort of way! A skua and a couple of Stormy Petrels were our only other company. Even the flying fish seemed to have forsaken us, with the occasional siting but only one or two landing on deck.

As we travelled further northeast the twilight and dawn periods became noticeably longer. I was intrigued to learn from my “Guide to the Night Sky” that there are three recognised stages of twilight: civil twilight, when the sun is less than 6 degrees below the horizon; nautical twilight, when the sun is between 6 and 12 degrees below the horizon; and astronomical twilight when the sun is between 12 and 18 degrees below the horizon. Full darkness occurs only when the sun is more than 18 degrees below the horizon. The temperatures also started to drop at night, suggesting that the sea temperature was cooling and when we reached 26 degrees north I had to get blankets out and wear long trousers with socks for my night watch. We also started to get a heavy dew on the decks in the mornings and we only had the bimini cover over in the midday hours when the sun was still hot.

The weather continued to be benign in the day and stargazing was improving as the waning moon rose later each night. By the end of our passage Venus had become a twinkling, brilliantly shining “evening star” bright enough to cast a pathway of reflected light across the sea towards our very own Celtic Star. Saturn was rising before dawn and in the dark skies towards the end of our passage the opalescent Milky Way was visible once again with my favourite constellation, Scorpio, centre stage. One night I saw an astonishing display of 7 or 8 asteroids crossing the heavens leaving dead straight blazing trails behind them. I found myself left open mouthed and speechless at the grand spectacle.

On Wednesday May 10th after a great day sailing the wind started to fall along with dusk. I was off watch and trying to sleep when I heard the engine, situated behind a panel by my head, start and then stall. When this happened a second time I got hurriedly out of bed and went into the cockpit to find out what was wrong. From the back of the boat we could see a banshee following us in the water! The banshee turned out to be a very large piece of polypropylene fishing net which was wrapped around the keel, rudder and propeller. It was dark by now and so we hooked up the 2 metre train and cut it off close to our stern. Being unsure about how much was around the rudder and prop we reefed the sails and slowed the boat down so as not to put strain on any underwater fittings. A sleepless off watch was followed by a slow on watch. I eventually fell asleep on my next off watch but was shortly awakened by Richard at first light. It was 0545 and the sea state was building slightly so he wanted to get on with the difficult task of inspecting the rudder and propeller whilst in mid ocean. All hands were on deck to support Richard who donned snorkel, mask and fins and brandishing a sharp knife went over the back of the boat to clear the rest of the net. Before he went in to the water we noticed another large swathe of net that was trailing behind us and we hooked that up and cut it off.

Then we stopped the boat by heaving to and reducing sail again. Secondly, we set up a long rescue line trailing behind CS with a ladder fender on the end in case he got left behind. Otherwise, without a useable engine we would have to sail back to get him! It took an hour of hard work holding his breath, diving under the boat swimming hard down to the propeller and then sawing the thick rope before returning coughing and gasping to the back of the boat which was thumping up and down dangerously in the waves, but eventually he cleared it. What a hero and what a relief as we tidied up the decks and proceeded to set sail at a brisk 7 knots.

An emergency of that sort needs to be managed carefully to stop it becoming a full scale disaster, the potential dangers of that situation were high. We were 1500 miles from land in any direction on a 46 foot long piece of fibreglass, with engine failure and possible steering failure. At least we had seen some shipping, about one boat a day, so help may have been a few hours away if needed. As it was, the only sequelae, apart from lack of sleep, was that the steering cables needed adjusting. Then we were on our way again and making good progress sailing fast over the ocean towards our destination which was still over a thousand miles or 8 days sailing from us.

I had just finished reading a book called “Dead Wake” about the last passage of the Lusitania, which was interesting. Usually I don’t watch disaster films especially ones about boats being sunk, but maybe I should extend this veto to books as well. Whilst the risk of being torpedoed was low, any account of ships sinking and people drowning is troubling, especially when one is surrounded by thousands of miles of ocean.

At 0300 on Friday May 12th we marked our half way point, 1100nm at 28 57N 47 09W. The Southern Cross was no longer rising above the horizon and we saw our first Portuguese Man of War jelly fish, Physalis Physalis! These floating organisms slowly replaced the Sargasso weed until there was no floating weed only purple jellyfish to be seen. They appear as pinkish mauve elongated bubbles reflecting the light and they have a dorsal sail so they float along the ocean with long stinging tentacles that descend below the surface. Luckily there were none around when Richard was clearing the fishing net because they have a nasty sting which he experienced before in a similar place and situation 15 years ago on our second yacht, Fuerte.

We continued westward and the weather was stable with high pressure so we were doing more sailing and less motoring but continued to use fuel which had to be transferred from our Jerry cans to the main tank via a siphon.

We connected to our satellite phone once a day principally for weather forecasts and to contact our family. Our sweet biscuit stocks had dwindled dangerously low and so I exchanged a few emails with Laura and obtained a recipe for shortbread to use if the sea conditions and weather were suitable for baking, which it was on Saturday! The biscuits proved popular with the crew and mutiny was avoided!

I was pleased that we had no weevils in the flour or ants in the sugar. More revolting and much, much worse, I found a cockroach in the baking tin and so a period of chemical warfare ensued before the galley became fit for a “Kitchen Goddess”. But the roach wasn’t alone and it didn’t end there as we discovered more and more of the blighters scuttling about the bilges, under the floor and a busy nest of them in Richards’ clothes! Yuk, yuk, yuk! It was pretty gross and I got a headache from the mega death chemicals we deployed but were necessary as we kept finding more for several days. There is nothing intrinsically bad about Cockroaches. They don’t have teeth or tails or spread diseases like rats, but seeing them scuttling over your bed and pillow and in the galley overcomes any rational thought process or environmental principles concerning the use of insecticides or animal welfare!

We moved our ships clock forward every 4th day, losing an hour each time as we headed east about every 600 miles or 10 degrees. It was bizarre at first because for thousands of miles on our previous passages we were heading west and so we are used to putting the clock backwards and gaining an hour. Except when we crossed the date line in June 2022 and lost all those extra hours by jumping forward an entire day, thereby completely missing the Queen’s jubilee. Which, although I am a republican, wasn’t planned that way! One year ago on May 18th we left Tahiti with Laura on board for a cruise through the Society Islands to Bora Bora and then set sail across the Pacific Ocean.

Four oceans crossings in a year adds up to a few months of time spent looking at the sky and sea contemplating life and we are looking forward to returning to another lifestyle for a few years. I will enjoy being home with my family, my cats and my garden, walking in the hills and seeing old friends. I won’t miss needing to secure the kettle and pans so they don’t fly off the cooker, the rapid corrosion of charging wires, electrical devices, and zippers that are jammed with verdigris, having to dismantle the seats to get something out of a cupboard, toilets that move, or living at an angle. It will be wonderful to stay in one country for longer than a few months and not face the repeated bureaucracy of customs and immigration, but I know there are a hundred things that I will miss about this extraordinary year: the people, the places, the wildlife and the activities plus being at sea. So I am now starting the psychological preparation required for ending an absolutely epic adventure. I have already signed up for a couple of local sailing events back in Conwy; a racing weekend and pub to pub rally. The LA LA rally goes from the Liverpool Arms in Conwy to the Liverpool Arms in Menai Bridge! This will be a novelty for us as previously we were running RYA sailing courses over most weekends.

Back in the North Atlantic, on May 17th a pod of dolphins appeared briefly around the boat and we saw a few whales’ spouts in the distance looking like smoke in the wind! We had seen a couple of other whale blows in the last week but always too far away to see the animal itself. The waters around the Azores are renowned for their richness of cetaceans and a thriving whaling industry still existed there until 1986. Now a days the whale industry is all about whale watching and tourist boats go out to see these magnificent creatures, not to slaughter them.

The wind died away completely for the last few days and the barometer pressure continued to rise making the world a rather greyish blue colour. The monotony was broken on by a few graceful shearwaters gliding and swooping by. Then we were joined by a large pod of Atlantic dolphins leaping, turning and riding our bow wave. Later the phosphorescence was so bright and the water so flat that the boat appeared to have a sequinned frill around the hull and a train of glittering stars behind us. When the dolphins returned their bodies illuminated the water looking like glowing underwater fireworks. We sailed within a few miles of another yacht, the first we had seen in a week, but it was the middle of the night so not etiquette to call up unless necessary.

Thursday 18th continued cloudy and grey, the sun didn’t break through until after lunch when Laurence and I had our final games tournament. During the last few days of a voyage it can be tough to keep cheerful and motivated so playing board games helps with boredom! He won the Backgammon and I won chess so we were both pleased. It has been a lonely passage, there were very few other boats near us and I missed the chats and challenges on the twice daily WARC Rally radio net! The one yacht I did see and call up for a chat was French so I only managed a few pleasantries. Still it was nice to hear a different voice!

That all changed during the final night hours on 18th May as from the vast ocean appeared several other yachts, all heading for Horta. The Azores are one of the the primary destinations when crossing the North Atlantic Ocean from West to East. You can see why from the chart, they are not even at the other side but they are a perfect stop off before heading into the Mediterranean or other parts of Europe and the UK. On this picture you can also see our 2019 Gran Canaria to St Lucia start positions. The currents and winds circulate in a clockwise direction around a centre somewhere near the Azores, so heading Westwards is better further south- Madeira, Canaries, Cape Verde islands. It was a thrill and a chill when we turned over the chart and were on the same page as the UK!

It was dawn on Friday 19th when I saw the peak of Pico floating above grey clouds at 0500 hours. This magnificent volcanic mountain, 2351m, appeared in the distance like a beacon. Our destination was Horta on Faial island which is less than 5 miles from Pico and soon became visible as the sky lightened. With its lower profile on the left, it was a very welcome sight! We were pleased to have something to aim at and very pleased to have land in sight.

At 1030 am on Friday 19 th May we tied up in the harbour at Horta on the south east corner of Faial having been at sea for 15 days and sailed another 2220 miles across the North Atlantic. We had finished our fresh provisions the day before and had only 20 litres of fuel left. Perfect planning or cutting it a bit fine!

We are looking forward to exploring the islands before we set off from San Miguel to cross the final frontier homeward on 2nd June. Just 1200 miles to go!

WE WILL FINISH OUR EPIC VOYAGE ON SATURDAY 17th JUNE AT MIDDAY WHEN WE BRING CELTIC STAR IN TO CONWY MARINA

JOIN US FOR CELEBRATORY DRINKS ON THE DOCK AND IN THE MULBERRY PUB.

We have now planned our arrival home and due to silting and the marina gate being stuck at Deganwy we will be berthing at Conwy Marina on the opposite side of the river. We plan to make landfall in the UK at Newlyn around the 10th June and rest for a day or two before we make our way up to the Menai Straits. Hopefully, the weather will be clement enough for us to dress the boat with flags as we sail into the river past our house and Deganwy up to Conwy Town Quay before we dock at Conwy Marina at about midday on Saturday 17th June. We would love to see anyone who wishes to welcome us home and share a drink to celebrate the end of our epic voyage.

We will be organising a “round the world” party later in the summer. Details and venue to be confirmed. Email, text or message me, I am now back on my UK number. More details in my next blog before we leave the Azores.