sailing – Have Wind Will Travel

Ever Been On a Sail You Just Want to End?

February 27, 2020anniedike

Phillip and I will both eagerly, happily, readily admit it: We are 100% fair-weather sailors on our boat. While there are definitely longer, more intense passages we still want to make in our lifetime—sailing around Cape Horn, for example, sailing in the Indian Ocean, we’ve even thought about doing a leg of the Clipper Race—we probably will not do those in our boat and we will not do them because we like to bash around in rough conditions. Much like the Atlantic-crossings we have done, Phillip and I would undertake those because of the accomplishment it would signify. There is a lot of pride that comes into play when we both can say: “Yes, we’ve sailed across the Atlantic.” Or, when people ask, “How did you get to Cuba?” and we can say: “We sailed there.”

“Just the two of you?”

“Yes, just the two of us.”

Five-day bash across the Gulf to Cuba in 2016

I’ll be honest. That’s a pretty f&*king cool feeling. I love the look people sometimes give us in response. I feel like they are now thinking there are more things in the world possible than they knew, and that, if those two can do that, maybe I can do more than I imagined. I hope Phillip and I always inspire each other and other people to greater endeavors. When Phillip and I voluntarily embark on passages we know could likely become extremely arduous, we do it for that reason: to accomplish something rare, do something many others have not.

Crossing the Atlantic with Yannick on s/v Andanza in 2016

But, the only reward for a common day-hop where the conditions became gnarly is: You Survived! And your reward is simply a “Whew! We made it,” and an icy cocktail at the end of the day. I’ll be honest: I’m going to have a cocktail either way, so I’ll take it without the bash-about and potential broken-whatever.

Phillip and I would never take our boat out in 25-30 knot winds and big seas just for the sport of it. No, Ma’am. If Phillip and I find ourselves in that unfortunate situation, it’s because we didn’t know it was going to be like that out there and our weather prediction was off. (Because that never happens, right? ; ) Well, that was precisely what happened to us when we wrapped our magic dinghy ride to the Blue Hole at Devil’s-Hoffman Cay and sailed down to Chub Cay in the southern Berry Islands to meet up again with our friends Pat and Steve who have a wonderful rustic island home there. It was supposed to be an easy beam-reach day-sail.

Supposed to …

When we left Devil’s-Hoffman, Phillip and I were expecting winds of 15 out the east which would have put us on a nice beam reach heading south toward Chub Cay. And, recall this was going to be our first time sailing Plaintiff’s Rest—not motor-sailing as we did from Great Harbour to Devil’s-Hoffman, but pure sailing—in SIX MONTHS (Lord!) because we had just returned after hurricane season to pick up our cruising again in November, 2019.

First selfie with our baby girl after hurricane season!

We were so excited to get underway, in fact, and start sailing that day that we weighed anchor and set off in the pouring rain.

We didn’t care. We were going sailing! Our kind of sailing.

And, it definitely started out that way! See?

Nice 15-knot winds right on the beam. We were flying! Look at that. Making 7.3 speed with ease (and comfort). But, about an hour into our “perfect sail” the conditions started to deteriorate. Of course, the rain came back, in cold driving sheets.

But, far worse, the wind not only shifted—to where it was coming more out of the southwest, right on our nose as we tried to pivot onto a heading toward Chub Cay—they also picked up to 22-25 knots, which is just more than we prefer. Don’t get me wrong. Our baby girl is tough as nails, with all new wire rigging put on in 2016, her mast-step rebuilt stronger than ever before, and a super rugged but flexible balsa core throughout. She is fully capable of sailing in 25+ with ease, I just don’t personally want to see, hear, or feel her do it. The potential for breakage skyrockets and stresses me out. I’m not a shoe person but it would be like putting on a new pair of exquisite, shiny Louis Vitton heels and then running like mad through the streets. You are totally going to mess those shoes up. (And your ankles, too, in that scenario). Although I hear women do it … on a professional level!

But, there we were, three hours now away from turning back toward Devil’s-Hoffman, or two hours into the wind to get where we needed to keep our cruising momentum. What would you do?

We reefed up and kept trucking. It was kind of shocking to see how quickly the seas kicked up, though. I guess with no protection from the south, it doesn’t take long for the wind to impact the seas, because we were beating into some miniature monsters.

Every time we tacked thinking it would give us an advantage, I swear we were going backwards. Like we were on a sea treadmill and losing ground. I felt like the boat gave us a “Really guys?” each time we tacked and didn’t gain an inch.

In moments like those, I wish I could become this huge hand that comes down from the sky and just plucks her like a rubber bath duckie out of that mess and sets her gently down in the anchorage, still and safe, and on her hook.

Have any of you ever felt that way? You’re fine to bury the rails and beat to windward on anyone’s boat but your own? I wonder if I’m alone on this?

Although Phillip and I love sailing, we love cruising, we love being on our boat, there are just some sails I want to end, and, unfortunately, this was one for us. Our first sail of the 2019 cruising season, and we just wanted it to end. But, I must say the boat performed beautifully. She powered through, and that hellish beat was over in a few hours. I can’t tell you what a sigh of relief Phillip and I both let out when we turned into the inlet at Chub Cay and the seas finally loosened their grip.

My “Thank God, we’re almost there” smile

I love that moment when the boat finally slows from a full-out run to a gentle gallop, then to an easy trot, and you know you’re going to make it. That day we (well, and by “we” I mean primarily Plaintiff’s Rest, with me and Phillip simply riding on her back) definitely earned our “Whew! We made it.” And, you remember what I said about the cocktail. Happy hour is not optional on Plaintiff’s Rest. : )

There she is! Anchored out safely (thank goodness!) behind Frazer’s Hog Cay after a rough beat.

Next up, we play around the southern Berries with some fantastic island friends and embark on our first lionfish spearing adventure. You never know, Captain Annie may still become a lion tamer yet!

Birthday Tribute: 37 Reasons Why This Past Voyage Was Our Best Yet

May 31, 2019anniedike

Reason No. 1: My GoPro Broke Our First Day in the Bahamas.

Why is that a good thing? Because it was the universe telling me to just live in the moment—to see, taste, and feel it, rather than film it. Ahoy crew! Now that Phillip and I have completed our Bahamas cruise and tucked in safe for hurricane season, I’m excited to share all of the fun stories and photos from our incredible Bahamas voyage with you all here on the blog. I decided—as a fitting birthday tribute (this little sailor turned a proud 37 on May 28th : )—to first share the 37 highs and lows that Phillip and I have agreed made this last voyage to the Bahamas our best trip yet. The reasons might surprise you. Remember: it’s usually not the cocktails and sunsets you remember the most.

No. 2: We Had a Great Send-Off

Our friends in Pensacola are keepers, I will tell you that. Brandon made (try to wrap your head around this) bacon-wrapped, beer-battered onion rings along with a massive rack of ribs, well mainly just as a Saturday BBQ—that man loves to grill—but Phillip and I commandeered it as our “send-off feast” and it was incredible! Our buddy (and original boat broker, who helped us find our Niagara 35), Kevin, also brought us a nice bottle of champagne (complete with its own boat bubble packing!), and we had one rip-roaring last hoorah at our favorite Ft. McRee anchorage before leaving. Yes, those glasses do say “Party Rock!”

No. 3: We Had Two Captains Aboard

Double the knowledge, experience, and credentials; double the ease of cruising. Nuff said. With both of us now equally capable of steering, navigating, AND docking, Phillip and I both felt an increased sense of confidence when we left the dock in April.

No. 4: We Had Plenty of Wine

No. 5: We Had Plenty of Storage Space for Said Wine

No. 6: We Scored on Salsa!

Yes, salsa is serious on our boat. I always prefer it at room temp (and, yes, I have eaten a whole jar in one sitting to enjoy the full-warm goodness before it went into the flavor-sucking hole that is the fridge. We also always try to reduce foods we bring on the boat that have to be refrigerated, so when we found these perfect single-serving sized cans at Wal-Mart that taste like they were just chopped on a beach-side salsa stand, we were stoked! These guys made for a wonderfully-tasty treat often on Plaintiff’s Rest and we were able to reduce trash by throwing the cans overboard when we were underway offshore! Win-win. What do you say? “Arriba!!”

No. 7: We Got Lucky (on a Weather-Window)

While Phillip and I both often readily agree it is rare to find a perfect “good” downwind five-day weather window across the Gulf, we did find a rather peachy four-day one that suited us just fine. While our first day out of the gate was a bit sporty, I’m excited to tell you in a future post how well our baby girl performed in 20 knots of wind (albeit on the stern—my favorite kind) and 6-8 (sometimes 10) foot seas. It was a romp. Whew!

No. 8: Despite a Last-Minute Breakdown, Lord Nelson Held the Entire Time

This is my next story coming up on the blog: Auto Turn Notto: The Problem That Almost Prevented Our Departure. It’s quite an interesting saga. It never ceases to amaze me how often massive problems (the auto-pilot is not working) are caused by the tiniest of conditions (a bolt is not tightened or a connection is loose, for example). But, Phillip and I certainly learned a ton about our hydraulic auto-pilot in the process, and we hope you will too. After solving this problem—we *hope*—we now have Lord Nelson running in a condition that will last us ten more years of cruising. That was our hope when he had Brandon with Perdido Sailor help us install him during our extended stay in the shipyard back in 2016.

Screenshot from Shipyard Video #69: Meet Our Hydraulic Auto-Pilot “Mr. Roboto”

No. 9: We Left Under the Most Beautiful Sunrise I Have Ever Photographed

No. 10: We Had Another Successful, Safe Gulf-Crossing

Crossing the Gulf of Mexico is no friggin’ joke. Phillip and I have told many, many cruisers that, despite our multiple Atlantic-Ocean crossings, the Gulf still ranks as one of the most gnarly bodies of water we have crossed, often packing the worst punch. We have spent too many a day and night bashing and crashing across the Gulf. So, anytime we have a successful, no damage, no injuries crossing of the Gulf of Mexico, we will happily and unapologetically celebrate it. Ahhhh ...

No. 11: We Were Only in Foulies for One Day

Previous Gulf-Crossings, particularly those undertaken in November or December have seen us in stinky, sweaty fouls for days. Yuck! Phillip and I were thrilled this time, leaving later in the year (April), to start pulling off those foul (in many ways) layers, just north of Tampa!

No. 12: We Got in a Massive Fight in Bimini

Doesn’t sound like a good thing, does it? Well it’s not when you’re in the thick of it. But, if you come out stronger and closer on the other side, it’s worth it. Couples have to fight occasionally to let the steam out and regroup. I had made a stupid error in my lat-lon navigation trying to help Phillip (who was holding the helm at the time) into the entrance to Bimini (bad on me) but Phillip responded with a comment that cut me to the core (bad on him). And, it doesn’t need to be repeated. It wasn’t an expletive, just hurtful. But, the upside was my response. While I usually swallow that hurt down, trying not to “rock the boat” so to speak, I knew Phillip and I had many tight-quarter days ahead on the boat, so I spoke up and let it out so we could vent and heal and it was the right decision. I’m getting better at this adult stuff, I’m telling you!

No. 13: We Got Stuck in Bimini

Again, doesn’t sound like a good thing, right? For Phillip and I—who really like to stay on the move when we’re cruising, staying usually only 2-3 days in one place before moving onto the next—a forced five-day stay in one place can be a bit of a bugger. Buuuuttt, that is only true when there’s no wind there or no good place to kite. If it’s blowing like stink for days and we have the ability to kite, Phillip and I are happy to park it and get on that wind. We spent three glorious days in a row kiting the snot out of 20-25+ winds in Bimini. It was awesome!

No. 14: We Failed (Initially) at Fishing …

Shouldn’t sound like a good thing, either? No “fish on” to shout about. For the first week of our cruising, when we were doing most of our offshore voyaging and expecting to catch most of our fish, Phillip and I didn’t catch a damn thing. Those crafty fish stole lure after lure, laughing at us the entire time. But, it was this extended fish failure that made our first catch that much sweeter.

No. 15: Then We Caught Our Biggest Mahi Ever!

It was glorious. That beautiful bounty of the sea fed us six times over, three filets a piece. I’m not kidding. Neptune rewarded our initial failed attempts in droves.

No. 16: The Weather Forced Us to a New Place

Morgan’s Bluff! Have any of you been there? While Phillip and I were not sure whether we were going to stop in Andros this year, as the Exumas were certainly calling (and while I would not call it a “schedule” per se, as commuter cruisers, we do have limited time and have to make destination decisions accordingly), the weather made the decision for us. Coming into the Northwest Providence Channel, the wind turned more southeast than we anticipated and began building to 18 and upwards—not a comfortable wind speed on the nose on our boat. So, it was either beat into that all the way to the Exumas or tuck in at Morgan’s Bluff, a place we knew nothing about but that brought us one of our most memorable moments of the entire trip:

No. 17: We Ate Our First Dilly (It’s Kind of a Big Dilly-yo)

This was such an unexpected and eye-opening experience. While Morgan’s Bluff does not have much to offer if you just dinghy to shore—a pretty beach and one little bar—Phillip and I were lucky enough to find a local to hire to drive us around the entire island and give us a three-hour tour (that, thankfully, did not leave us shipwrecked!). Kanendra, the dock master there at Morgan’s Bluff, along with her daughter, Diamond, took us around and showed us the cave where Captain Morgan allegedly hid his treasures, the blue hole (where the limestone core has fallen through and you can dive straight through to the ocean), the cute little resort bungalows you can rent, along with the extensive devastation that still exists from Hurricane Matthew. It was enlightening and incredibly interesting. And, Diamond, herself, a child of only eight, was adamant about sharing a particular experience with us—eating our first dilly fruit. Diamond picked this one herself and Phillip and I ate it right on the stop, getting all sticky in the process. It was the sweetest fruit I believe I’ve ever eaten and an awesome moment!

No. 18: We Did Sooooo Much Sailing

This surprised even us: Phillip and I sailed so much, we started to run low on battery power because we hadn’t cranked the engine in a while sailing almost the entire way from anchorage to anchorage. We were very lucky, both across the Gulf and the Stream, and with almost every island hop, to have steady winds on our stern that just pushed us along. It was incredible. Phillip and I did some of our favorite sailing, ever on our boat, on this last trip.

No. 19: We Reefed Right!

This was a little trick we learned from Andy Schell and Mia at 59-North. You wrap the reef line once around the boom and then tie it to allow the reef line to cinch the sail alll the way down to the boom to get a flatter, more effective reef. The days we did have to sail to windward in winds that require us to reef (generally 15 kts and up), this trick helped us put a tighter reef in and sail more comfortably to weather.

Feel free to comment on my “beanie hair” – I should have left the darn thing on – but you can see the reef trick! Thanks Andy!

No. 20: Two Weeks In, We Still Had Enough Wine!

No. 21: We Studied the Charts and GRIBS Together

I realize only now—with six years of cruising and a Captain’s License under my belt—how little help I was during mine and Phillip’s first cruising years. Sure, I was a hard worker. I crawled down into holes to try and fix things. I cooked. I cleaned. I got greasy and helped where I could. But, I never pushed myself to get knowledgeable enough about the more difficult things, like navigation, weather-watching, and making wise passage decisions. Now that I have, Phillip and I enjoy checking the weather together (that is an every morning and every afternoon event and conversation we have when we’re cruising), studying the charts, and deciding “Where to next?” together and we then share the roles navigating in. At least this way if we run-aground, we can share the blame! Let’s hope that never happens … although I’m sure it will again someday.

No. 22: We Were Exceedingly Impressed With Our Boat

She never ceased to amaze and impress us. Granted, Phillip and I put a lot of time and money into her and try our best to be very diligent, pro-active boat owners, but that does not mean you’re going to have a boat that performs 100% of the time. I’ll say our baby girl did everything we asked of her (which was often to run hard for 24 hours-plus under sail, engine, or both, with Lord Nelson doing all the steering) about 95% of the time. She was just a beast out there—moving comfortably in all types of weather, practically sailing herself all over the Bahamas. Pretty much every system worked, every bit of the time. While this is a HUGE reason we always strive for less, more simplistic systems on our boat, it was clear to Phillip and I, those choices (and the work they required) were totally worth it. I am immensely proud to say our boat is “dialed in.”

No. 23: We Made It to the Exumas!

That, in and of itself, was an accomplishment, as we were not sure our time allotment would allow it. We were not able to make it to the Exumas last year when we did the Abacos—although our diversion to the Berries brought us a fantastic encounter with new friends and an amazing experience that was the subject of my latest article in SAIL Magazine—Phillip and I both still had a desire to see and experience for ourselves the breathtaking beauty so many have told us is unique only to the Exumas. And, boy were they right. Photos just can’t capture it, but they can try!

Annie and Plaintiff’s Rest in Warderwick Wells Cay in the Exumas

No. 24: I Was Published Underway!

This was such a treat! To have an article of mine, “People With Gusto: the people you meet when cruising”—ironically about the Berry Islands in the Bahamas—come out in the latest SAIL Magazine while Phillip and I were sailing to the Bahamas. It was fun to be a bit of celebrity in certain marinas along the way where people had seen the article. Thanks again to Peter Nielson and the SAIL Magazine crew for running my piece!

No. 25: We Met The Amazing Jessie (from Jessie & Kate)

Speaking of meeting amazing people while cruising, we were lucky enough to cross paths with this inspiring young sailor/photographer: Jessie from Cruising Outpost’s “Jessie & Kate on a Boat” series. Leave a comment below if you enjoyed their articles in Cruising Outpost. Jessie was such a warm, candid person and so fun and interesting to talk to. You can imagine she and I immediately meshed and scurried to the corner to chatter like schoolgirls. I’ll admit to a little girl-crush on her; I’m not scared. Jessie is phenomenal. She and her husband, Luke, came into Bimini on the way back from their Atlantic-Circle honeymoon. I mean … damn. Reminds of the amazing Pam Wall. I am so inspired by these hearty sailing ladies! Keep it up salty gals!! You can follow Jessie’s continued adventures on Instagram at www.instagram.com/jessiebrave/.

No. 26: We Were Able to Scrub Our Own Bottom

Many thanks to Mantus on this one! When Phillip and I learned they had designed a smaller, more portable scuba set-up, we snagged one so we could use it during our cruising to dive a really cool reef that might be perhaps a little too deep for repeated snorkel dives and also to scrub our own bottom. This saves us about $100/month if we can do our bottom ourselves, so it has proven well-worth the investment for us. Plus, it’s convenient to have a little scuba set-up just for fun on the boat.

No. 26: We Got to Dive This!

No. 27: We Got to Cheers Everyday to Views Like This!

No. 28: We Got to Wake Every Morning to Views Like This!

No. 29: We Got To Swim Everyday In Waters Like This

No. 30: We Got to Swim With Friendly Guys Like This

No. 31: We Got to Eat Food Like This

No. 32: We Got to Walk Beaches as Amazing as This

No. 33: We Got to Harvest Our Own Conch

No. 34: We Got to Snorkel Pretty Much Every Day

No. 35: We Got to Spend an Entire Vacation With Our Best Friend

No. 36: We Had a Life-Changing Swim With a Turtle

I’m proud to say because I was IN the moment, not filming it, I don’t have an image, but I don’t need one. My words and memory will do it justice, just you wait. I named him Rasta because he was so chiiiilllll.

No. 37: Six Weeks In, We Still Had Enough Wine!

Our First Atlantic Circle Complete! This Calls for an Annie Seuss Treat!

January 15, 2019anniedike

From the Bay of Biscay across an entire ocean to the BVIs,

Under our belt now a full Atlantic Circle lies!

My mind firing, my knuckles cracked and loose,

I’m certain this event warrants a famous ditty by Annie Seuss!

With our biggest voyage to date behind us (albeit with many more the world to span)

I thought it was time to share with you the night when it all began:

When I met a man with a dream, who was so ablaze, so vivid, so itching to go.

That my words leapt before me in agreement. That was 14,000 nautical miles ago.

“There’s someone I want you to meet,” she said, a line we all immediately dread.

Lord, who now? I thought. A sad co-worker, a weird cousin with cats, probably a red head.

“Trust me,” my well-intentioned friend demanded. “He’s not you standard fare.”

And in my neck of the woods, Polos, Croakies, and Crocs was all they would wear.

When she pointed him out at the end of the bar,

My eyes blinked unbelievingly, my mouth flew ajar.

He was different, regal, commanding attention, demanding my stare.

I can tell you this: he most certainly did not have red hair.

I sauntered over cautiously, cosmopolitan in hand,

My instincts telling me I was stepping into new, wild land

Both of us practical, straightforward, we cut right to the chase,

Telling one another about our goals, our desires, time we did not waste.

“I want to travel,” I said. “Go, see, adventure, explore.”

I’m certain he decided at that moment he needn’t hear any more.

“I’m going to live on a boat,” he countered. “And sail around the world.”

I eyed him curiously, as my thoughts unfurled.

On a boat? I thought. Confused, taken aback, my forehead scored.

Country to country by boat, my mind wandered. “You mean live aboard?”

“Obviously,” he chuckled. “That’s typically how it’s done.”

Typically? I thought. “You mean you’re not the only one?”

Looking back now, this moment makes me laugh with him, too.

Phillip knew neither the vastness of my ignorance, nor my thirst for any experience new.

“Well, you shouldn’t have told me,” I said, simultaneously grasping and craving his irresistible plan

Knowing in that moment he had gained a life-long, utterly-smitten fan.

“Because I’m coming with you now,” I boldly announced,

And promptly flagged down the bartender for another courage ounce.

Phillip stood there, eyeing me slowly, now the one struck with bewilderment.

“I’ll have a martini, filthy,” I told the bartender. “When you have a minute.”

Relishing Phillip’s attention, his curious, piercing stare,

I wondered if he believed I would truly hop on a boat and go with him anywhere.

I did not wander at all myself, as I believe I made my mind up then and there,

And I’m confident our next exchange solidified it for Phillip, as well

For I, too, was not his standard fare.

“A martini to follow your cosmo?” he asked, as he finally settled into his seat.

“Obviously,” I said, mimicking his previous line. “I like things salty and sweet.”

You have my absolute honest word followers: this story is in no way fiction!

I’ve recited mine and Phillip’s first exchange, down to the very diction.

In our first conversation, during our very first meeting,

We spoke of this dream that felt neither imaginary or fleeting,

Of our mutual desire to travel, wander, venture, and explore,

I simply did not know until I met Phillip I would be doing it on a boat, shore to shore.

But, Phillip’s intriguing proposal for world travel only encouraged me further,

And I know now: as friend, companion, and captain, I could not have chosen any worthier.

For all our blue water voyages and the many more adventure seeds we still have to sow,

It still humbles and thrills me to this day to know it all unfolded over a dream and a drink, in a moment when I was immediately willing to go.

With five sailing years, many voyages, and a complete Atlantic Circle now behind us: Behold and lo!

It’s fun to remember how Phillip and I began, only 14,000 miles ago.

Photo taken January 9, 2019, with only 100 more nm to go!

N: 18° 079’ W: 61° 129′

Hope you all enjoyed this little HaveWind ditty.

I’ll be back with more to share from our travels in a jiffy!

Until then, know Phillip and I have made it back, our hearts full and swell,

Thinking: Another ocean crossed under sail!

What a testament to a life lived well!

BV17: Marsh Harbour to Hopetown!

June 23, 2018anniedike

Enough with this maintenance in Marsh Harbour! It’s time to get sailing and set our hopes on Hopetown. This was one of our favorite stops in the Abacos. Many cruisers live here full-time on a ball in the harbor which gives the place a very welcoming, community feel. There are lots of quirky little shops, beautiful flower-lined roads and bike paths, great restaurants and the stunning Hopetown Lighthouse, one of the oldest manual Kerosene-lit lighthouses in the world. Phillip and I were incredibly fortunate to score a ball in the harbor our VERY FIRST night there (some people have waited years for one) and enjoyed a stunning three-day stay at Hopetown. Enjoy the snorkeling in Marsh Harbour, our sporty sail over to Hopetown, and a bike tour around picturesque Hopetown in the video and photos below. Stay tuned next time for a trip to Little Harbor, a little-known hurricane hole at the south end of the Abacos where we were welcomed by friends who had just built an amazing little bungalow there. Plenty more to come!

On our way back to Marsh Harbour. We were thrilled to find that a Delta flight opened up recently from Atlantic directly to Marsh Harbour, so that makes leaving the boat in the Bahamas while we fly back and forth to handle issues at home much easier!

I love the view from a plane window. So much to see!

While we were thrilled to return, after leaving out boat in Marsh Harbour for six weeks while we flew back to Pensacola to handle some work things (and another huge thanks (and yet she still deserves dozens more!) to fellow Marsh Harbour live-aboard, Diane, who sent us amazing photos of our boat every couple of days while we were gone), we had plenty of work to do to open up and clean the boat and re-provision and prepare her for another two months of cruising in the Bahamas. We spent the first day cleaning her, filling the batteries and propane, grocery shopping, turning the engine over, etc. And, we were pleased to find our baby was just as excited as we were to have us back and she was full of juice and cranked right up on the first try! Way to go Plaintiff’s Rest!

We were pleased to find, having left our Kanberra gel bins full while we were gone, that the boat smelled super fresh when we opened her up for the first time in six weeks and there was hardly any mold on the ceiling. (In Pensacola, pre-Kanberra, we used to have tons of mold that we had to constantly wipe away with Clorox wipes during the summer). This Kanberra stuff is the real deal people!

Filling the batteries. Ours are Trojan wet cells that we have to fill with distilled water about every 30 days – 6 weeks. I always laugh because Phillip looks like a coal miner when he does it!

We were thrilled the find our fancy wine bags were still in tact!

It had rained a good bit in Marsh Harbor while we were gone, which was actually a good thing because it kept the bilge flushed out and fresh. We emptied her one time down to bone-dry to watch anew for any possible new leaks.

Then after all that work, it was time to go snorkeling in Marsh Harbour! I got some great footage of the fishies and plant life in the video. Hope you all enjoyed it!

Post-snorkel meal at the Jib Sheet. Oh yeeaaaahhhh!

We packed away our Bahamas courtesy flag while we were gone. She was only a little tattered from her first six weeks in the Abacos!

Back to our happy place! Sundowners and read-time in the cockpit of Plaintiff’s Rest!

I made a new friend at the marina, too. This amazing Labradoodle was so cute. She would sit in this chair, looking very much like a human being, and watch as people walked by. She was darling!

Sunrise over Harbourview Marina!

Time to de-dock (that’s a word in Annie land) and get this boat moving over to Hopetown!

It was a great day sailing, with winds of 18-20 kts. On the nose, but we’ve got much better at reefing down our offshore 90% working jib (“Wendy”) so now anything up to 20 kts is still comfortable for us on the boat. That did not used to be the case with our 135 genoa!

Following our waypoints on the Explorer charts to a “T.” I love those charts! They make cruising the Bahamas, even with a six-foot draft effortless. Just follow their lat and lons and play the tides and you are golden!

We couldn’t reach anyone via the radio to see if there was an open ball in the Harbor at Hopetown (we were pretty sure they’re wouldn’t be as folks had told us cruisers covet those balls and hold them often for years), so we dropped the hook on the outside and dinghied into the Harbor to get a lay of the land. It was kind of nice, too, to traverse that narrow inlet for the first time in our tiny little rubber boat, not the big beauty!

And, we totally scored!! After talking to a few boats, asking around about a potential open ball (and having a few of them lightheartedly chuckle at us), we were finally sent to a guy named Dave on a catamaran who unofficially monitors the balls, and he got us in touch with this amazing guy, Truman, who runs the balls at the Harbor, and as luck would have it a couple was leaving that afternoon, so we were going to spend our evening ON THE BALL! Phillip and I knew exactly how lucky we were and we were super excited! But, the ball would not open up for a another few hours, so we headed to shore to grab a bite and explore!

And Hopetown, of course, did not disappoint. Stunning Atlantic shores, crystal blue waters, stretches of white stunning beach. It was everything we hoped it would be (no pun intended … okay maybe just a little one ; ).

We ate here at Brandon’s Bar on the beach, an awesome little salty lunch spot overlooking the Atlantic Ocean!

Pensacola representing!

These pictures don’t really do it justice. But the sunsets and sunrises in the Harbor at Hopetown were breathtaking. It was all you could do to just sit and watch and look around. Something about all the boats floating around you and the colors on the water were just mesmerizing.

Time to go see what this lighthouse is all about!

Beautiful little flower-lined streets guided us along the way. One of my favorite things about the Abacos are all the rich, luscious colors that greet you just walking the streets. All of the pathways and roads are also very narrow, which means no freaking stink-pot, tank-sized SUVs. Thank goodness! Just little golf carts and foot traffic. I have to say there is no part of me that misses the consumerism and traffic of the states. None.

Helllooooo.

You cannot NOT go to the Bahamas and NOT get conch fritters (three times at least to compare at different places! ; )

There’s the lighthouse! One of the last remaining manual, kerosene-lit lighthouses in the world. This beauty was completed in 1864 and used to guide ships around the treacherous Elbow Reef.

We signed the book! S/v Plaintiff’s Rest was here! 101 lighthouse steps we never fear!

Isn’t the view from the top amazing? The striking colors of the water is always what catches my eyes and breath when we view the Bahamas from up high.

Got myself a little Hopetown Lighthouse trinket (and proceeds for buying this beauty go toward lighthouse preservation and restoration). Cute huh?

Then it was time to explore more of that awesome little island. We rented bikes (24 hours for $24, very reasonable) and spent the next day and a half biking around Hopetown.

It was even cooler to see the lighthouse from our ball in the Harbor after we had walked all the way to the top and saw the view from up there.

We left this little thank-you note and our “ball fees” ($20/night) on Dave’s catamaran, along with a bottle of white and one of my books as big thanks for his help in enabling us to score a ball our very first time there. We certainly enjoyed our time and can easily say Hopetown is one of our favorite stops in the Abacos. But, gees, it’s hard to even pick favorites. There are so many. Hope you all enjoyed the video and photos. Next time, we will take you to Little Harbour at the south end of the Abacos and Pete’s Pub! Stay tuned!

BV14: 3 Kinds of Wind – Sailing, Kiting & Silking – at Treasure Cay

May 19, 2018August 1, 2018anniedike

What’s that old saying? There are only three types of wind: too much, too little, or in the wrong direction. While that is fairly true, thankfully, for us, no matter what speed or direction, we can usually bust out one of our many “wind toys” and do something with it, either go sailing, kiting, or silking! We had wind for all three during our stay at Treasure Cay, a beautiful resort-type island in the Abacos with our favorite stretch (three miles!) of stunning white beach on the north shore. Fun video, story, and photos for you all below from our colorful stay at Treasure Cay!

It really is a treasure! Treasure Cay was one of our favorite stops in the Bahamas. It had a very secure, protected marina (they pull a chain across the entrance and lock the harbor at night to make it extra safe) and the staff at the marina were all very attentive and helpful. Plus, that beach on the north shore is just jaw-dropping. We saw many locals who walk it every day, one end to the other, which would be six miles total, and which also comprised their complete workout for the day. Can you imaging your daily exercise routine being so relaxing and beautiful? Life on the islands is really a breath of fresh air compared to life here in the states.

We also had a fantastic time kiting on the north shore. Because it curves around on either side, it offered us kiteable (that’s a word in Annie Land) wind from so many directions. Anything from the north, east, or south was do-able there, which is why we got so much kiting time in. I literally thought I was too exhausted to give it another go by day three. I was suffering from “T-rex” syndrome, where your forearms are so tired from steering the kite that you they’re practically useless … much like that of a T-Rex. And, memes like these always bring me a big T-rex smile. : )

And my personal favorite. This one always makes me feel better! You’re welcome!

But, aside from the magnificently-exhausting kiting we did at Treasure Cay, we also had one common theme that seemed to run through every memory. It’s this little pint-sized ball of cruising energy who originally inspired Phillip and I to travel to the Bahamas in the first place when we heard her talk about her beloved Abacos at the Miami Boat Show as far back as 2015. Do you know who I’m talking about?

That’s right. This wonderfully-inspiring woman: Pam Wall. She had a huge impact on us from the start because I could literally see and hear her passion for cruising each time she spoke about places she has been and her gallant boat, Kandarik. It amazed me when I learned Pam’s full story some of the horrendous heartbreaking things she has had to endure yet, despite it, she still brings others joy and inspiration and shares her passion for cruising. And, apparently, I’m not the only who feels this way because we met, independently, three separate cruisers at Treasure Cay who had a connection with, and fond memory of, Pam Wall. Turns out, she, is the real treasure.

Meet John and Gayle!

This trashy couple. Ha! This was a fun moment where we all shared a laugh at what “dirtbags” cruisers are. The minute we dock at a new place, the first thing we bring with us off the boat is our trash. We’re real stand-up folks like that. The minute I sprang on John and Gayle, I caught them in this treacherous act and decided to help! So, how did we meet John and Gayle and make the Pam Wall connection? Ironically, not in the way Pam Wall thought we would. Both while Phillip and I were in the Bahamas-planning stages and when we were actually out cruising in the Bahamas, Pam and I exchanged many emails where we would share with her how much we were enjoying her “Beloved Bahamas!” just as she said we would and she would always, always (if any of you know Pam, you will agree with this) share her many connections and tips on places to go, things to do, good stuff to eat, and people to hug for her. When I told her we were thinking about going to Man-o-War cay, this was the short list of suggestions she sent me:

I know. A lot of people to find and hug, right? That Pammy. She is so cute. The funny thing was, we did not end up stopping at Man-o-War Cay but as we were walking the docks (who doesn’t love to do that?) in Treasure Cay, Phillip actually spotted, on his own, a beautiful boat he wanted to point out to me.

“Man, look at that Hinckley!” he said and pointed. I turned my attention to where he was pointing and it was, sure enough, a magnificent, beautiful boat, but something else stuck out for me. The name, Ciro. That’s a pretty unique boat name and I felt like I had heard it before. My mind started rattling and I thought maybe it had been one Pam mentioned in one of her many Bahamas emails. I searched around in my Gmail and, sure enough, found that one. Notice her mention of a Hinckley named Ciro and a lovely couple on it named John and Gayle. While she had recommended I do that “Gee it’s great to see you again” bit to a different couple, I decided to do it to John. Phillip and I meandered around and waited for them to step off the boat (carrying their trash of course, cruisers after my own heart!) and I walked up to John, whom I’ve never met before, and said “Hey John! It’s so good to see you again! We had such a great time the last time we were together.” Both John and Gayle gave me a priceless stumped look, and Gayle actually started to give John an even funkier look, and that’s when I cracked and told them my good friend Pam Wall told me to hunt them out and do that.

We instantly connected. They are lifelong sailors, part-time live-aboards, and John has extensive knowledge in Hinckley boat building and repair. They were delivering this particularly Hinckley, Ciro, to the Bahamas for the owner and had actually stayed at Pam’s dock in Ft. Lauderdale before making the jump to the Bahamas. We all had so many wonderful Pam stories to share. And, we ended up doing “pizza night” with John and Gayle at the Treasure Cay Marina the following night (absolutely delicious) and had them and another fellow cruiser over the next night for happy hour goodies.

Tim is single-handing the Bahamas on his Endeavor. He had actually saw Phillip and I as we were walking toward Ciro and shouted out: “Hey, I know you guys from YouTube!” Ha! Small world. He’s been a long-time HaveWind follower, so it was fun for him to get to meet us and join the party. It’s always a party on Plaintiff’s Rest!

So, is this where the Pam Wall connections end? Heck no! Meet Steve and Anike!

They had just walked up the beach while we were kiting (it often draws a few curious folks) to ask us about our kite gear and how it all worked and this, of course, lead to a conversation about “What brings you to the Bahamas?” We found Steve and Anike were actually long-time cruisers. They used to cruise with their children aboard in the Caribbean on a Tayana 37 and are now on a beautiful Shannon. When they asked us the same question, “What brings you to the Bahamas?” my answer often starts with Pam Wall, because she is the person who first lit our fire about cruising to the Bahamas and Steve immediately said, “Oh, Pam, isn’t she great? She helped us get our Tayana ready for the Caribbean. She may not remember us. It was back when she was working at West Marine, but please tell her how helpful she was.”

Won’t remember you … Pam doesn’t forget a thing. Seriously, I can’t remember half the places we’ve been and I’ve only been cruising part-time for five years. Pam can still tell you every single stop she and Andy made on their many Atlantic circles back in the 80s-90s. And, she remembered Steve and Anike. It was starting to get comical sending her texts from Treasure Cay saying “Found another cruising couple who knows you!” But it did not stop there. The last one was really a surprise.

I was in the shower room at the marina getting spruced up for a hot date on the town with my Phillip (we ate at the Treasure Sands Club that night …. just fabulous, I gained five treasure pounds that night alone that I am still proud of! ; ). As I was wrapping up in the restroom, Anike came in. We started chatting again about her past travels and other women who have cruised too. And I was telling her a little bit more of Pam’s story when another woman came around the corner to wash her hands and asked: “Are you talking about Pam Wall?”

“Yes!” I squeaked, surprised she knew who I was talking about with such little information, and the woman responded: “Oh yeah, we heard about her through the SailLoot podcast.” (Little shout-out to my buddy, TeddyJ, at SailLoot!) “And I heard your interview on SailLoot, too!”

Turns out it was Kristen from Life in the Key of Sea, another cruising couple I had been following on Facebook for some time. Mutual followers I guess you could call us. I did not know it was Kristen at the time because it was a very brief pass-by in the bathroom and we did not bump into one another again in Treasure Cay, but we did in Eleuthera! And, we got to spend a day dining and hiking with her and Brett. We then found out Brett was one of the sailors who helped TeddyJ deliver his boat (which was Windtraveler’s previous boat, s/v Asante), from St. Thomas to Florida this past summer. Fun podcast Teddy put together talking about that passage here. It is such a small cruising world out there I swear! Here are some fun photos of Kristen and Brett on s/v Life in the Key of Sea!

I actually took this one of the two of them when we were hiking at Harbour Island:

And Kristen took this one of me and Phillip:

I forgot to get a group shot (we were having too much fun) but this is Phillip, Kristen and Brett looking out at our anchorage where they had dropped the hook right next to us at Harbour Island!

So, you ready to go cruising yet? Want to meet all kinds of new friends, old friends, re-found friends in all sorts of beautiful little islands scattered out in the sea? If you’re struggling with how to start, Pam Wall Cruising Consultant, might be a good one! Love you Pammy! You’ve influenced and inspired so many!

Some very fun photos for you all from our beautiful stay at Treasure Cay. Hope you all have been enjoying our Bahamas posts! Do you feel like you’re there with us? We do!

BV11: Fly Like an Eagle at Manjack Cay

April 12, 2018anniedike

Like wet silk perhaps? Or running your fingers along the top of a pan of jello? No, it’s softer than that. I’m trying to think of how to describe it. The silky smooth belly of a stingray. While I’m not sure any words can quite capture it, I’m proud that I can say, now, I have experienced it. And, it was all because of the “Stingray Whisperer.” Ahoy followers! We’re back on Bahamas blog time, having just wrapped our “magic moments” at stunning Powell Cay in the Abacos and weighed anchor headed for Manjack (pronounced Nunjack) Cay where we kitesurfed, chased turtles and stingrays, and cracked our first coconut (and I honestly can’t tell you which was more fun). Fantastic video and photos for you below. Enjoy!

Ahhh … sailing! Boy, were we thrilled that day to be sailing again.

Honestly, in the Abacos, each of the islands are so close (2-3 hours, usually, at most), and there often wasn’t enough wind or too much wind to comfortably sail, so we would just motor from one to the next for the first 5-6 cays we visited. While this was great for kite-surfing and glassy snorkeling once we got to each island, Phillip and I LOVE to sail. So, when our plans to weigh anchor mid-morning and head from Powell Cay over to Manjack Cay also afforded us perfect winds of 12-14 kts over the starboard stern to spend the day sailing there, we were thrilled! We took the long way and spent the day happily jibing our way slowly to Manjack Cay.

Jackets? In the Bahamas?! We’ve had folks ask us often what the weather and temps were like in the Bahamas in December and January. Honestly, a little chilly. When we first got into the Little Bahamas Bank and the Sea of Abaco, the sunny days allowed us to snorkel and dip in the water without our wet suits, but if we were going to be underwater for any period of time (snorkeling or diving) you would definitely start to go numb if you didn’t wear a wetsuit. Then, as the fronts started to come in and the days were often cloud-covered and windy, the water got way too chilly without our full wetsuits. That also meant jackets and layers when we were sailing in the chilly wind. Once ashore and protected on the leeward side, bikinis and board shorts were fine. But most of our time in December and January was spent in a hodgepodge of layers ranging from full wetsuits and booties to string bikinis.

Here’s Manjack (not sure why, but it’s pronounced “Nunjack”) Cay. Just east of Powell Cay and a very short hop from Green Turtle Cay. We were definitely watching the weather very closely when we were in the Abacos as the northern fronts build quickly and can sit on you for days, with bitter winds of 25-35 kts. They also clock around so you have to make sure you are protected from winds coming at you from different directions. All of that wind is great for kite-surfing, which was awesome for us, but we always wanted to make sure we found good protection from the wind directions we were expecting. We spent a beautiful two blue-sky, sunny days at Manjack, with the plan to scoot over to Green Turtle Cay (playing the tide because the inlet reportedly got down to 6 feet at low tide, thanks for the intel www.ExplorerCharts.org) to hunker down for a nasty storm that was coming. We decided to stay at the marina in White Sound because it was so well protected and it would allow us to tie up secure, top off the water and give the boat a thorough wash-down. Wait till you see that footage. We got 36 kts of wind on the boat, even tucked there in the sound. It. Was. Windy.

And, what do we like to do when it blows?

Get our kite on baby! But, as I mentioned, the water was chilly (probably around 68-70 degrees) and with cloud cover, you definitely wanted your wetsuit. We dawned our shorties that day and my winter alter ego, Vladimir Platypus, makes a cameo in the video. Enjoy!

It was a full day of surfing which left us happily exhausted and hungry. You know you’re living the good life when you watch (from the cockpit of your boat) the sun not only set …

But also rise!

Day Two! Time to go exploring!

The island at Manjack Cay is really stunning, with lots of little trails and walkways. You could easily spend the day walking the island and lounging on the stunning shores. Pack a picnic and a book and you’ll spend the day in heaven!

The north shore on the Atlantic side (and this was true for most of the islands in the Abacos) was the most breathtaking, with a half-mile stretch of Bahamas brown beaches, butting up to jewel-toned green waters that roll and lap the shore. The sound of the water churning is therapeutic.

This little log, poised perfectly before the rolling ocean, provided the perfect backdrop. Phillip called it immediately: “PHOTO OP!” he said, as I squealed and shed my cover-up for an impromptu photo shoot!

Man … island life is rough.

During our walk back to the dinghy, we found this post with a log-splitter-type blade sticking out of it and a hammer where it appeared locals (or perhaps vagabonds like us) cracked many of the coconuts that were lying around. It was the first time I had ever cracked a coconut and saw the husky, stringy interior. Man, are those husks hard! I didn’t know the actual coconuts were little hard balls in the center. Boy, are they pretty too. A glossy jet black exterior, with white as snow coconut meat inside. We also got to drink the coconut milk (still warm from the sun) right as we cracked them. Even that small experience, brought immense pleasure and was definitely a highlight for us. Not to mention the amazing toasted coconut oatmeal I made for us the next day. YUM. Life sure is tasty.

Nice coconuts!

So, the stingrays. How did we just happen upon a pod of five pretty-domesticated stingrays that will swim right up to you and let you pet them? Because we’re the most interesting people in the world and we travel with a miniature giraffe! We don’t always pet stingrays, but when we do we do it with a GoPro in hand. Ha! I’m kiiiidddiinngg. This actually worked out as many very cool things that we are lucky enough to experience and do: because Phillip was following his Paddington the Bear hyper-active sixth “travel sense.” I’m telling you that man just starts wandering, looking at maps, talking to locals and literally following his nose at times to truly immerse us in an environment that’s new to us and it often takes us to places where the locals hang out, ends up bringing us into the fold of some very knowledgeable locals who take us under their wing and show us around. All I can say is he’s just the absolute best person to travel with. Most days I have no idea what my day is going to look like, where we’re going to go, what we’re going to eat or do or see and I LOVE IT. I absolutely love it.

This day we were initially dinghying around to a specific lat and lon spot a fellow cruiser (who had done the Bahamas the previous season) told us about where he had seen a ton of sea turtles and had swam with them. While we didn’t find any turtles there, during our rather long dinghy ride home, Phillip saw in one of the coves this center console power boat up on the shore near a dock with several people standing in the water. It piqued his curiosity, and he threw the tiller over and steered us in that direction. As we got closer, you could tell the people were all looking at something down in the water and I immediately got excited. “Turtles!” I shouted, just because that’s what we’d been on the hunt for all day and I had turtles on the brain. But I was thrilled to find when we got there, that they were stingrays. Five of them! And they were all swimming around this man on his knees in the center. He was like the Stingray Whisperer. I eased up to the group and he was nice enough to let me in on the action and kneel down near him so the stingrays would swim up to me too and let me feel the underside of their bellies.

It was like a soft satin blanket, fresh out of the dryer, only wet. It’s very hard to explain, but I think it just might be the softest thing I have ever felt. And ever will. And, where the folks on the boat had paid (probably a pretty penny) to be taken out here to this spot where this captain knew how to conjure the stingrays, here Phillip and I were, cruising bums, getting the same mesmerizing experience for free. I had no clue when I woke that morning that I would be petting stingrays that afternoon, but that’s the absolute beauty of cruising and a life of travel. I find it immensely exhilarating not knowing where my day will lead.

But, I know who I will be following! Love you babe!

Article in SAIL Magazine: Conquistadors and Cruisers!

January 17, 2018anniedike

“Nice piece in SAIL! Made my lunch!” Ha! This is so cool! I had several friends and followers send me messages in the Bahamas letting me know I had an article that came out in the February issue of SAIL Magazine. You see? Even when I’m over here in the tropics, I left seeds of sunshine back there for you guys at home! Definitely get out (even in the snow – ha!) and pick up a copy of the February issue of SAIL Magazine to read my Conquistadors and Cruisers article. It was a write-up Peter Nielsen at SAIL (thank you for trusting me again, Peter, with another piece!) requested from me about what makes Pensacola such great cruising grounds for sailors. Phillip (my absolute Idea Guy) had the idea to compare the benefits that cruisers appreciate while sailing in Pensacola’s beautiful waters to what Tristan DeLuna recognized when he sailed to Pensacola from Mexico and established the FIRST European settlement in the states in Pensacola in 1559. Some very cool history for you here. ENJOY!! And, pop quiz, for 500 points: If any of you know what the word “Panzacola” (an Indian tribe that Pensacola was named after) means, throw it in a comment below. Everything’s made up and the points don’t matter. Give it a go!

VIDEO: 5 Days Across the Gulf of Mexico

January 1, 2018anniedike

Go offshore with us, followers! As Phillip and I sail our Niagara 35 five days across the Gulf of Mexico in some sporty bluewater conditions. This was one of our more intense offshore runs with 24 hours of 20-25 kts of wind and 6-8 (to sometimes 10) foot seas, but the boat and crew proved more than capable and we had a helluva time laying another 500 nm under our keel on our way to the Bahamas. We can’t wait to share the rest of the voyage with you through blog posts, photos and more fun videos! Hope you enjoy this first offshore leg! Buckle up! It’s one heck of a ride!

When to Wake the Captain

January 11, 2017anniedike

At the first moment you think you should. That’s probably what any captain will tell you. As much as he likely abhors that first jolt—when the shout of his name or a shake of his shoulder rouses him out of a deep slumber—the second moment, when his mind clears and he realizes your intent in waking him is because you sense danger—real or merely perceived—he is grateful. A well-intentioned, albeit false alarm wake of the captain is welcomed one hundred times over a skittish hesitation that makes it too late for him to salvage the situation. I can only hope I speak earnestly on behalf of most captains, as I have not served as one myself, merely as a relief captain here and there. I have never been the person, the only one fully responsible—at all times—for the safety of the boat and crew. That’s quite a responsibility. I can speak, however, as the first mate who has woke the captain both too early (i.e., unnecessarily) and too late. All lessons are free today.

“If the CPA is less than five nautical miles, wake me up.”

This was the “too early” incident. Phillip and I were sailing across the Gulf to Cuba, sharing helm duty during the day and each taking two-hour shifts at night. Aside from the monstrous dredging vessel we squeezed by in the Pensacola Pass, we hadn’t seen many ships the first couple of days and nights on passage. This was night number three, however, and we were crossing the large shipping channel where many carrier ships make their way into the Gulf and across to Texas. We had already had to watch, call and maneuver around several big vessels during the dark evening hours before our night shifts began, so I asked Phillip before he went below to lay down around 10:00 p.m. when he wanted me to wake him if we began approaching another vessel while he was sleeping.

Could I have monitored our CPA alone, haled the ship and/or deviated course if necessary to avoid a collision? Very likely. So, why did I ask for specific instructions? I’ll admit I like my role as first mate under Phillip. I would rather be the one following instructions, than making them myself. That may sound lazy or meek and that’s fine. I will be the first to admit I do not enjoy the stress of being solely responsible for the vessel or our navigational decisions. I like sharing those duties with Phillip as captain. While I will hold the helm as long as necessary for Phillip to sleep, I do so with the comfort of set parameters to follow in case a situation arises, the decision for which exceeds my pay grade. The decision in this case was what to do if our closest point of approach with an oncoming vessel dropped below five nautical miles. That was when I was told to wake the captain.

I had been watching him for about a half hour. He was a bright beacon, a blazing battleship on the horizon, easily visible and definitely far enough away from us to not cause any danger—at the time. I had learned from Captain Ryan with SailLibra during my voyage to Isla Mujeres that you can use the CPA (closest point of approach) on the AIS to determine whether you are going to cross the ship’s bow or stern by turning your heading toward the vessel’s approach (meaning, turning your vector line toward the oncoming ship) to see if the CPA increases or decreases. If you turn toward the ship and your CPA decreases, you’re going to cross the ship’s bow and that’s when you need to worry. If it increases, you are going to sail behind the ship’s stern and you are likely safe. You can turn back to your heading and you should be able to watch the CPA continually increase and take comfort in your approach. If you cannot turn enough due to the wind angle (or the CPA is too erratic) to allow you to make a clear determination that you will cross behind the ship’s stern … better pick up the VHF and give him a call.

Here is a sample screen shot of AIS. You will see the vessel receiving AIS on the left and the oncoming vessels on the right, showing their approach (i.e., their heading) and CPA. This looks a little different than the AIS screen on our Niagara but it will give you an idea. I apologize I don’t have a good image of ours. Turns out, when a ship is coming, thinking about filming the AIS screen is the last thing on your mind:

Ryan’s rule is a great theory and it does work, but some vessels are not charging ahead on a constant heading. Some bob and bounce around in the waves. Some stop to drop fishing lines in the water or check on their nets. This means the CPA can sometimes bounce around erratically and not give you sufficient confirmation as to whether you’re going to collide with the vessel or not. I hate when it does that! And that is exactly what it was doing with this stupid bright beacon on the horizon, night three during our voyage to Cuba.

I had done what Captain Ryan told me by turning our Niagara toward Mr. Battleship and the CPA seemed to increase (although it was somewhat erratic, not constant), so I fell off again and continued watching as he crept toward my bow about eight nautical miles out (or so I believed as we do not have radar on Plaintiff’s Rest). I believed he would cross safely in front of our bow and we would pass behind his stern, but I wasn’t 100% sure. I tried to hale him on the radio for my own comfort just to make sure he could see me and let him know that I was under sail (which in theory means the ship under engine power will divert if necessary to avoid collision). But what happened? He didn’t answer. Three times he did not answer. Ryan did tell me this can happen often because many commercial ships have to log a radio call and make a report of it and sometimes they’re just lazy and don’t want to do that. In that case, if they see you and know they’re not going to hit you, they will just ignore your weary cries. Of course that doesn’t give YOU—the poor little bobbing sailboat out there—any comfort, but it just happens sometimes. And, of course it was happening to me on my shift! I was cursing the ship channel Gods!

As I mentioned, I was fairly confident this Kiratzatsoo (or something like that I swear, a very hard name to say three times in a row on the radio) was going to cross our bow and we would sail safely behind his stern but the CPA was very finicky and dipped a couple of times below five nautical miles. What did that mean for me? You got it. Wake the captain. Even though I felt I knew we were safe (I knew!)—and when I did wake Phillip because I had been instructed to do so and we both watched as the ship moved safely across our bow and we sailed safely behind its stern, I did not apologize for waking him. Why? Because I knew I’d been given orders to follow and I should never trust my own judgment over the captain’s as to when is the right time to wake him. How did I know this? Because I had breached this sacred command before. I’m not proud of this, but I share it because it is a valuable lesson to learn. Your knowledge, pride or even fear and embarrassment about waking the captain should never come before a very clear order you were given on when to wake the captain.

It was on the Naples delivery, my spur-of-the-moment invitation to crew on the delivery of a Leopard 48 from Pensacola to Naples, FL under a very good friend of mine, Captain Jack.

It was an awesome adventure, an honor to be included and an opportunity I will forever be grateful I was able to seize. And while I believe (and hope) I served as a valuable contribution to the crew, I do know I made one could-have-been-very-bad mistake. That was not waking the captain soon enough.

We were holding two man watches during the delivery. Two hours, two crew at the helm, with the captain floating. It was around 5:00 a.m., our first night on shifts. I was supposed to be on with my buddy Bill. Bill was sleeping and I felt energetic so I propped myself up at the helm with the plan to let him sleep another hour before waking him. Looking back on it, that was probably an unwise deviation from the captain’s orders as well. If he wants two men on shift, don’t try to be the hero and hold watch alone. Wake your partner. While two-man shifts was an indirect order, Captain Jack had also given a very specific order:

“If a ship comes within 6 nautical miles on the radar, wake me.”

That’s a pretty clear instruction, right? You’re right. It is, and it should have been followed. I was holding alone around 5:00 a.m. and I saw a ship coming toward us on the radar. The Leopard did not have AIS, but having used radar extensively to “acquire targets” via radar during the Atlantic-crossing with Captain Yannick, I felt pretty comfortable using the radar to watch oncoming vessels. However, Yannick typically kept the radar set at 12 nm miles out and (my first mistake) I assumed this one, on the Leopard, was on the same setting as I was watching the ship approach. Lesson #1: I should have looked more closely at the nautical mile ruler and I would have noticed it was set on 8 nm. So, ships were actually closer than they appeared.

It was difficult to tell which way the ship was going as I did not have an AIS vector or heading to confirm its direction. I was looking intently at the ship itself for a red or green nav light to tell me which way the ship was heading. It was off my starboard bow, so I knew if I saw a red light (on its port), that would mean it was coming toward my bow. A green light would mean it was headed away from me. I repeat these things to you now as these are the things I ran through my head three times over to make sure I had them right (“port is red, starboard is green, port is red, starboard is green”) thinking this entire time I’m being very careful and doing all the right things. Poor Annie. Because what have I yet to do? During all of these critical tactical moments? I’m sure you know the answer, but humor me a little longer.

A few moments later, Bill wakes up. I ask him to come quickly to the helm to get a second look at what I’m seeing and gather his thoughts. While this is good practice, when there is plenty of time to react, I’m sure (and I hate to admit this, but it’s just likely true) I likely did this as well because I was the only female sailor aboard, one of the least experienced, and I wanted a second opinion before I … you know what. This is precisely the reason I’m sharing this story. Do not let your pride or nerves cloud your decisions out there. Bill squinted and looked and clicked and few things and then we both saw it: a red light on the oncoming ship, which was now well within 6 nautical miles of us, likely closing in on five at that point and aiming to cross our bow. “Go wake Jack,” I told Bill.

While it did afford Jack *just enough* time to quickly jump to the helm, assess the situation and fall off so we could clip behind the ship’s stern, it shocked me how long it took for that maneuvering and a safe passing to occur. In my indecisiveness and attempts to assess the situation myself, I ended up giving Jack just enough time to react quickly and correctly. That’s not the kind of margin any captain wants! They want plenty of time, which is why you should wake the captain when?

I hope you all said it out loud. At the first moment you think you should. Trust me, he would prefer too early as opposed to too late to take the helm and save the ship. Stay alert, follow orders and sail safe out there crew. More Cuba footage, stories and lessons to come.

April 17-23, 2013 – The Crossing: Chapter Two – Sailor’s Delight

June 4, 2013December 30, 2013anniedike

On the 18th, the crew woke to a lavender sunrise and a light breeze. It was a beautiful day. We were rested and ready to go. We tore through the Hampton Inn schmorgas board breakfast and hit the road. Our sail groupies were eager to make the big send-off.

The parents and I headed to Publix to make the big provisions run and, I have to say, I ran a tight ship. Mary was assigned canned goods and other non-perishables while I ransacked the produce and meat departments. I sent Paul to the back to gather boxes and bags and he cleaned them out. We looked like the old Supermarket Sweep contestants

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fgPFlPXK7yc

Minus the matching numbered jersey sweatshirts of course. Man, these people are excited. And, just for an extra laugh (so all my hard blog work doesn’t go to waste) – this is worth a minute of your life, trust me: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UO_tm-C7yfU).

I texted Phillip a few pics to make sure I had picked up the right items.

Annie: The pink right?

Phillip: That’s my favorite color.

This was for the shrimp feta pasta we made on Saturday night. Yum! (Although Phillip’s version is way better, this recipe will help get you there: http://www.food.com/recipe/michelles-penne-with-shrimp-tomatoes-and-feta-318465).

364 dollars later (ouch!) we made it to the boat and started stacking up all the goodies in the cockpit. Down below, I was initially a little worried about how we were going to fit everything in the boat. Remember all that crap on the Provisions List? Well, now we had it – we just had to find a place to put it on a 35 foot sailboat. But, I will say, that turned out to be a non-issue. There were more nooks and crannies on that boat than an English muffin. (Which, interestingly enough, are patented and were recently the cause of a top secret muffin scare. Oh my! A riveting read I assure you: http://usatoday30.usatoday.com/money/industries/food/2010-07-29-english-muffin-lawsuit_N.htm). Thankfully, we were able to cram all the crap in all the crannies in record time. We shook hands with Barbara and Jack and engaged in a nice photo op to memorialize the big event.

They were excited for us but a bit sad to see their beautiful boat go. We promised to take good care of her and they assured us if we did, she would certainly take good care of us. We set off around 11:30 a.m. and headed out into Charlotte Harbor.

The sailing was prime that day. The sun was out. The wind was blowing 8-12 knots and the waves were 2-3 feet all afternoon. We started to play around with the sails some and learn the systems. No matter how much you know about sailing, it always takes a bit to learn the rigging when you’re on a new boat. For us, this consisted of a very complicated pull-and-wiggle approach where I would pull or wiggle a line from the cockpit and Mitch, up at the mast, would find the line I was expertly pulling and wiggling and determine what it controlled, the outhaul, or the boom vang or a reefing line, etc. We, of course, forgot most of that when it came time to reef (pull the sail down a bit) but it just takes a while. After we got the sails up and trimmed and on a nice tack, the crew took a collective breath and let the afternoon seep in. We put on some good music, made some snacks (tuna salad sandwiches and homemade guac!) and, as all good sailors do, shed a few clothes.

Some of us relaxed more than others:

Now I did promise a full-fledged Chaucer rendition of Mitch, didn’t I? You readers … so demanding. Mitch. Where do I begin? First, I must say, he’s an incredible friend to give up five days to sail across the open Gulf with us and help get the boat back. As fun as it is, remember what I told you about sailing, it is indeed hard work, and we were out of touch with the rest of the cellular world for days at a time. That’s a big commitment, and there is no way we could have done it without him. There, now that I’ve given Mitch his due praise, let me give him his due description. As I’ve told you, Mitch is all of six feet, four inches. While that may seem pretty normal for a guy … on land … it’s a bit much for a 35-foot sailboat. Mitch lumbered and bumbled around that boat like an elephant going through a carwash. Each step of his foot on the deck sounded like Neal Armstrong landing on the moon. I honestly felt sorry for him while I watched him clamor up and down the companionway stairs and through the hatch. He must have felt like he was crawling around on Playskool equipment.

I think the fear of getting stuck in the hatch prompted him, each time I got up to go down the stairs, to ask me for something he needed from down below, rightly earning him the name “Mitch, While-You’re-Down-There, Roberts” for the duration of the trip. He was a talker and a screamer but he had a heart of gold. Mitch taught me a great deal about sailing and he was a true asset on the trip.

We watched the sun set over the bow of the boat on Thursday evening and congratulated each other on an excellent day of sailing.

I got industrious and labored away on some sweet potato chili in the galley. I managed not to blow the boat up and fed the crew right and proper. It was a sailing miracle! Clearwater was still another 15 hours away and we had a long night of sailing ahead, but the crew was full and content and ready to make way.