ARC Europe Rally 2007 - Gyatso log for Leg 1a

One of David's mottos is, "You gotta show up!" Anyone who has been tracking our journey for the past few months and years knows that this is not always easy for us and our lovely, 22-year old Tayana cutter, Gyatso. Our first goal with the ARC Europe Rally was to get to the starting line in Antigua. We would see where things went after that. David's motto now needs a footnote, "Even if you're the last to get there!"

Because of other pre-departure preparations on Tuesday (we'll mention those later on), we could not get to the fuel dock until the morning of departure. After checking out of the marina and lashing the dinghy on deck, we preceded to the fuel dock at 10:45 a.m. hoping that we would have plenty of time to top-up the tank, fill three jerry cans and make the starting line by noon. Just our luck: we forgot to adjust for 'island time'! We arrived at the fuel dock after making arrangements with the marina and found that the tanker truck had just arrived to fill their tanks, so we were informed that the fuel pumps were closed until 11:30 a.m. We both paced the dock hoping this would help speed the tanker along. The helpful dock attendant filled our tank and cans as quickly as possible after that, we cast off the docklines, and Lisa motored at full speed while David prepared the sails for the start. All of the last minute stress melted away as soon as we left Jolly Harbour and set our eyes on the magnificent shades of blue and green water just outside the harbor entrance. Winslow Homer could not have painted a more beautiful scene.

We hoisted the main, rolled out the yankee and crossed the starting line 10 minutes after the official start. Although we were the last boat to cross the line, we figured that this was at least better than crossing early which carries with it a minimum three-hour penalty. Once we were settled in and had caught up to the back of the pack of 11 other boats (minus one which served as the starting line), we rolled out the staysail, our own little secret weapon when on a beam reach. Gyatso responded and by late afternoon we were in a comfortable position in the middle of the fleet.

As we passed to the west of Barbuda, one small dolphin came to bid us farewell, playing briefly in our bow wake as we sailed along at 7+ knots. Later in the afternoon, Lisa saw what looked suspiciously like whales in the distance. Rosario, another boat just ahead of us in the fleet, came on the VHF radio a few minutes later to confirm her suspicions: humpback whales were jumping out of the water near their boat!

As the sun set, we were among a group of 6 boats. We sailed throughout the night in 10-15 knots of ESE wind and could see the lights of the other boats nearby. At day break, the bright pink-orange sun emerged through scattered gray clouds and squalls with patches of light blue and brush strokes of magenta in the upper level clouds. The wind has dropped off a bit this morning, but we continue to sail along our course at 5.5-6.5 knots with less than 800 miles to go.

Mostly sunny today with some passing rain showers in the late afternoon. We sailed all day in 8-12 knots of ESE winds, and at noon, we could still see 3 other sails nearby. Air temperatures are still in the mid 80's, and so we felt much better after taking a shower in the early evening. We have been alternating watches, approximately 2 hours during the day and 3 hours at night, but have not been able to sleep much more than an hour or two during the off-watches. We did manage to enjoy a cooked meal this afternoon: corned beef hash topped with poached eggs.

Without a moon until the early morning hours, the night watches are quite dark with the exception of Venus, which casts a light glow on the water’s surface as it sets to the west, and the phosphorescence that bubbles in or wake. At 20:00 while Lisa was on watch, a startled flying fish landed on deck. Too dark to see us, I suppose. At the change of watch at 22:00, the GPS brought us the welcome news that we had less than 700 miles to go.

The moon rose through scattered clouds in the distance at 02:30 this morning. At daybreak, one sail was still visible to the west. Another boat was visible for a while, but must have turned its engine on and motored out of sight. After taking the morning position at 08:00, we enjoyed eating bagels and coffee prepared by David and watching a rainbow with a perfect white, fluffy cloud as a backdrop to the west. A tiny white sail dotted the horizon underneath the cloud.

Throughout the night, the winds slowly dropped off so that by 06:30 the light SE winds were making it difficult to make progress under sail to Bermuda. By noon, we turned the engine on and tried motor sailing for two hours. The wind picked up briefly again, and we sailed slowly in light winds. It turns out that the boat to the west this morning was Borborygmae (Bobo). As we struggled along, we watched as they flew their cruising spinnaker and sailed over to us to say hello, passing within a few hundred feet! Great photo ops all around, but unfortunately David is now suffering from spinnaker envy. It was one item too many on the list for us to get our cruising spinnaker rigged before departure, but this item just jumped to the top of the list.

By early evening, we were motor-sailing again. We enjoyed a crew favorite for dinner: beef stroganoff and green salad. Good thing we had a hearty meal, because the weather went downhill after that. At 20:00 with lots of lightning in the distance and thunder clouds all around, we reefed the main and continued with the engine on. We both spent watches dodging lightning and thunder clouds while searching for wind to sail again.

At 2:00 it was totally dark, and we had thunderstorms all around us but had managed to avoid them so far, thanks to David's great work at the helm. An hour later, a ship passed about a mile behind us while lightning flashed all around. The engine was off shortly after that, and we were sailing through heavy rain and strong winds with the staysail and a double reef in the main the rest of the morning. Now, at 10:00, the sun is out again and the wind has settled down a bit from the east. We are back on course for Bermuda, and besides getting doused with heavy rain, we managed to avoid the worst of the scary-looking lightning last night. The air temperature dropped below 80 degrees, and so the soggy crew enjoyed hot cocoa and instant oatmeal for breakfast.

We're thinking about our mother's today and wishing them a Happy Mother's Day from the middle of the Atlantic!

We spent the balance of the day today sailing in stronger than expected winds at 20-30 knots from the SSE, after having spent the previous night making our way through what seemed like a mini low pressure cell. As reported yesterday, we dodged lightning and rain showers all night in light winds, then we experienced heavy rain, stronger winds and building seas. Under partly cloudy skies again during the day, we charged along at 7.5 knots under double-reefed main and staysail. Gyatso took the 10-12' seas on the stern quarter, surfing down some. Otto the Magnificant, our linear drive autopilot and official third crew member, steered amazingly well considering the sea conditions. To top it off, we were able to put on miles directly to Bermuda.

Later in the evening, the wind began to clock around to the south. At 10:45 p.m. we decided to tack which was a good thing because in the middle of the night the winds had shifted to the northwest at 15-20 knots. After being on watch from 2:00 - 5:00 a.m. Lisa noted in the ship's log, " Very dark with squalls, rainshowers and occasional lightning...seas have dropped down considerably since earlier in the day." David emerged from the cabin at the change of watch to find Lisa bundled in her wet foul weather gear and looking quite miserable.

The experience of the last two nights as well as the weather outlook for the next 24 hours deserve a brief notation. While we are at sea, we are receiving daily weather reports from the rally organizers via email onboard. We can also download a wide variety of weather information through our satellite phone Weather.net service, seek advice from two key weather routers via SSB radio nets, and compare notes with other boats in the rally via VHF and SSB. There is more information and advice than you can imagine, and all of this must be factored in to making decisions based on the actual conditions we are experiencing. Our approach is to put safety and comfort first. This means that as soon as we hear or see thunder or lightning, we shorten sails and prepare for squally conditions. When the wind shifts, we try to steer the boat in a way that gives us the most comfortable ride, even if it means veering from our intended course for awhile. When the wind drops off and our speed drops below 4 knots, we usually turn the engine on and try to gain miles in exactly the direction we need to go. We basically try to be prudent mariners and make conservative decisions when it comes to weather.

Tomorrow we will see what the day brings as we face the challenge of figuring out how to avoid low pressure systems passing to the north of us. During our morning roll call with the rest of the fleet on SSB, we learned that another boat checked in with Herb, the Atlantic weather guru on SSB, and he has advised boats approaching Bermuda to go no higher than 25N today and 27N tomorrow to avoid gale force winds associated with a low that will be located at 29N on Monday night and Tuesday.

We managed to avoid the worst of the weather last night, but unfortunately, we made very little progress until the wind shifted, as if on schedule, to the NNE at exactly 8:00 a.m. We had one mishap in the night when our electric bilge pump would not shut off. Upon inspection, we discovered that the float switch had wiggled loose and the water strainer on the bilge pump was totally clogged. We weren’t sure who had it worse: Lisa tackled the bilge pump problems while David steered through building seas and strong winds. It turns out that Lisa drew the short straw. Working in the bilge while the boat rolled through the heavy seas was not a fun task! The problems were solved fairly quickly, and Lisa retired to her bunk for much needed sleep.

Shortly after lunch yesterday, the middle-of-the-night bilge repair duties combined with large, confused seas and cumulative exhaustion, caught up with Lisa, and she suffered for a bit with sea sickness. David took a marathon watch during the night to let her rest for almost eight hours. She has promised as many "dark and stormies" as he wants upon arrival in Bermuda.

A beautiful sunrise this morning after an exhilarating night of sailing through the darkness at 6.5-7.5 knots. What is amazing is that we are making great time even though we still have the second reef in the main. As dawn approached, we rolled the yankee back out after having rolled it in three hours ago to make the boat more comfortable for David on the graveyard watch. Although it may not seem very fast to those of you reading this, it was plenty of speed for us at this point in the trip.

After we both got some rest, we finally shook out the second reef that has been in since Monday afternoon, and since 6:30 a.m., we are sailing with both headsails and a single reef in the main. As of our 8:00 position, we have less than 50 miles to go. The seas are building again after having settled down over night, but we have a southeast wind at 15-20 knots. Besides a bit of rolling, the ride is comfortable. The autopilot is getting a workout though. Our GPS tells us that ETA in Bermuda is 3:30 pm (4:30 p.m. local time).

We had another sailboat that was not in our fleet pass us before sunset last night. We talked to them on VHF and learned that they were making 9 knots with a full main and staysail. And we thought we were doing well! Before midnight, we could see the masthead lights of three other boats next to and behind us. Since the hour was late, we did not try to make VHF contact to see if it was anyone in our fleet. Like us, everyone is clearly pushing to get into Bermuda before sunset tomorrow.

We cleared five flying fish off the decks this morning. Another one landed in the cockpit last night while David was on watch. He tossed it back in the water as quickly as possible in hopes that its life might be spared. They flop around so much when they hit the deck that its chances of survival after just a few seconds are pretty small.

Lisa cooked up a breakfast favorite known to us as "Egyptian Eyes" but also known as "One Eyed Pirates" or "Sunshine Suzies" at local restaurants back at our homeport in Annapolis, Maryland. These are made by cutting a hole in a piece of bread (we have found that the souvenir rum glasses from Guadeloupe work quite well for this but any round glass or cookie cutter will do), placing this on a hot, buttered griddle, and cracking an egg in the center of the hole in the bread. Once the egg is firm on the bottom but not cooked through, flip the bread and cook for 1-2 more minutes depending on how you like your eggs done. We usually like our eggs cooked medium, but we tend to cook them a bit less so that you can dip the bread in some of the runny yoke.

We are really looking forward to making landfall in Bermuda and are now in final preparations for arrival: reviewing charts, sailing instructions for the finish, organizing customs documents, etc. We have certainly contended with our share of wind and waves on this leg of the trip, and although it was uncomfortable and tiring at times, it was nothing that we or the boat could not handle. We have also had some great sailing. It is days like yesterday and today with glorious sailing conditions that tease us back out here to experience the wonders and challenges of bluewater sailing all over again.

Arrival in Bermuda - Thursday, 17 May

We crossed the finish line today at 2:35 p.m. (3:35 p.m. local time), but not without a bit of pre- and post-finish excitement.

Approaching Bermuda is an interesting experience. Many yachts are lined up making their way into port like airplanes on their final approach to a runway. Bermuda Harbour Radio is the equivalent of air traffic controllers for yachts approaching. They put a radar tag on our boats about 50 miles out and then monitor us as we make our way to the harbor entrance. As soon as we are within VHF radio range, but no less than five miles out, we are supposed to contact them. We contacted them five miles out, and then again when we were within about a mile of the finish line just outside St. Georges Harbour entrance. This is when our pre-finish excitement began.

Our sailing instructions for the finish were to pass from south to north within 100 yards and to the east of the Spit Buoy at the harbor entrance. We were to record our finishing time when the buoy was 275 degrees True. We were surprised to receive the instructions from Bermuda Radio that we must hold south of the Spit Buoy because a cruise ship was making its way out of the channel, and they didn't want any traffic north of the buoy. After having come more than 900 miles, we now had to wait 30 minutes to stay clear of the cruise ship. We decided to take down our head sails to make the waiting process easier. Having only tacked two or three times offshore, we ended up tacking and jibing several times waiting for the cruise ship to clear the channel. The wind had increased to over 20-25 knots and the seas had built to 4-6 feet, making these maneuvers a bit more challenging, especially at this point in the trip. At 3:30 p.m. (local time), the ship cleared the channel. We rolled out our yankee again, pointed the bow to the Spit Buoy, and crossed the finish line 5 minutes and 30 seconds later. We headed up into the wind one last time, dropped the sails and requested clearance into the harbor. The first leg of our trip was over after 7 days, 2 hours, 5 minutes and 30 seconds plus 30 minutes in limbo at the end.

Once inside St. Georges Harbour, our post-finish excitement began. First, we had to make our way to the customs dock to clear in. The dock is tucked in behind the cruise ship terminal. We were lucky to arrive just as another boat left the dock, and so we preceded quickly to take their space. The strong wind pushed us into the tight turning basin faster than we would have liked, but somehow we managed to get the bow close enough to the dock just as another boater was walking by. He grabbed our line and helped us tie up at the dock. The tide was low and the cement dock with wooden fender boards was very high. While pulling alongside, David had to use our lifelines like a step ladder just to get up on the dock to secure the stern line.

We cleared through in record time, thanks to the highly professional customs and immigration operation in St. George. With several boats hovering for our dock space, we quickly tried to cast off, but not before a customs official on the dock insisted that we take down our Q flag and hoist the Bermuda courtesy flag. With an audience of half a dozen people on the dock, Lisa fumbled with the simple task of changing out the flags. It was at this moment that she realized how tiring the trip had been. She took a deep breath, tied the flag to the halyard, and up it went to the starboard spreader. The small audience helped cast us off, and we contacted ARC Rally Control to make arrangements for our berth at the Bermuda Dinghy and Sports Club along with the other yachts in our fleet. We were assigned a space on the inside of the main dock, but it was going to require some tight maneuvering to make a sharp turn to port immediately upon entering the dock basin. Rally Control asked if we had a bow thruster to which David replied, "I wish!" He added, "We have a full keel, and so this boat steers like a drunken elephant!" We made one pass by the marina to assess the situation, and not liking what we saw, we called back to say that we thought we should go anchor until the wind abated. Rally control assured us that lots of hands were available to help us in, and they urged us to try again, "Just get your bow close enough to the dock so that we can pull you in if necessary." We made a second pass, and this is exactly what happened. With Lisa at the helm and the wind behind us, we entered the dock basin slowly with the engine in reverse. As soon as we cleared the outer boats, she shifted into forward to turn the bow to port just enough for all of the helping hands to grab the bow rail, dock lines and most importantly, the bow sprit which was rapidly drifting toward the large cement pier. Some more reverse until the spring lines were in place, and we were safely tied up at the dock thanks to the team work of the Arc Rally Office and fellow rally participants.

Entering the harbor, Lisa exclaimed, "Arriving in Bermuda by boat is just as great and I thought it would be!" The beautiful colors of water, the dramatic rocky shoreline interspersed with perfect sandy beaches, pastel colored houses with white roofs, lots of ocean-going yachts in the harbor, historic forts, and the ever-present cruise ships. We have always dreamed about sailing our own boat to Bermuda. For the past 10 years, the "Approaches to Bermuda" chart was mounted on the wall of our family room at home along with charts of other destinations we hoped to visit someday. David, always the dreamer, calls this practice, "Creating positive thought forms." I guess it works because here we are.

We uncorked a bottle of bubbly and celebrated the completion of Leg 1. A little while later, we joined the other crews for dark-and-stormies at the Dinghy and Sports Club Bar.

Gyatso Sailing Log for Leg 1a - ARC Europe Rally 2007

Daily Logs

	Click on the thumbnail to see a map of daily positions on Leg 1.
Gyatso underway to Bermuda during Leg 1a of the ARC Europe Rally (Photo from Bobo).