Atlantic Adventure (week 1)

 

Well, despite the skipper having Covid - we’re off!

Day 1: Wednesday 12 Jan 2022

All glad to be heading away from Mindelo. Not the worst place in the world by a long shot, but still glad to be saying goodbye. We leave in very hazy conditions - apparently a wind known as the ‘Hammatan’ (not to be confused with MC Hammer’s 80s hit ‘Hammertime’) blows dust over from the Sahara and creates a false fog which reduces visibility considerably. As I write this we’re passing another of the Verde islands just 3 miles to our North and there is no sign of it whatsoever.

10 minutes into the journey, and Martin has successfully begun our fish tally for this leg with a handsome Almaco Amberjack (AKA Longfin Yellowtail). A good sized fish with two forks in the guide book meaning excellent eating. That’s now filleted and marinating for dinner tonight in a mixture of soy, honey, ginger, garlic and chilli... yum.

For now at least, a depleted Chez has retired to her cabin - we think resting is the best thing she can do at the moment.

Chez rejoined us around noon after a good sleep, this coincided with our first ever whale encounter - a pod of maybe 6 or 7 with large dorsal fins moving at a much more sedate pace than the dolphins we usually see. Martin confirming they were whales after seeing the classic whale tail arc out of the water at one stage. Within minutes of seeing the whales, a pod of dolphins passed us going the opposite direction. Definitely a lot of sealife round here!

The wind dropped, so we decided to have another go at flying our colourful spinnaker sail. Previous attempts back in Greece have not gone well, and until now I suppose we were a little daunted at the prospect of having her up again.

Well this time, whilst possibly not a perfect setup, we did get it out and ballooning well enough to have us moving along at around 3 knots with just a whisper of wind. Mid spinnaker setup we get yet another bite - a good rod bending Mahi Mahi who freed himself from our clutches with his third leap from the water. No drama: Martin’s Amberjack is feeding us well tonight regardless.

Wind turned in the afternoon. Coming from the North - main and genoa close hauled dragging us along nicely at 5 knots.

Woke from my afternoon nap (I’m justifying this by having to stay up until 3am tonight for night watch) to the news that Chez does indeed have Covid (confirmed via email from the Cape Verde testing centre), and that both Martin and I were negative at time of testing... who can tell now!

Dinner turned out to be as yum as advertised.

It’s dark now, there’s a swelling gibbous moon sparkling on the water, the wind is filling the sails to perfection, and for now at least we’re having a wonderful sail.

Day 2: Thursday 13 Jan 2022

I still felt quite awake as my shift finished at 3am. I told Chez I’d carry on until Martin came on at 5:30 so she could sleep - news that was gladly received. Nothing to report - my tired head got a bit noddy near the end. Glad Chez is getting some good rest aided by the gentle movement of the boat in the light wind and sea we currently have.

I resurfaced at 10am, still under sail and moving along at a very sedate 3 knots, which increased to 4ish when we finally realised the sails were still reefed from the night before!

It’s sunny, there’s a cloudless blue sky, and pure clear sea air.

Our unexpected wind unexpectedly dropped so that we again had to motor for a few hours, a necessary evil if we are to reach the trade winds in the coming days.

Chez spotted 5 or 6 dolphins next to the boat, but only fleetingly, Martin and I missing out.

I managed to get some good sleep between sunset (which was a clear sky beauty) until close to midnight, when I took over watch from Martin. We’re coping - for now - keeping Chez out of night duty - she needs the rest. In ‘How’s Chez?’ news... Bravely smiling she very accurately reports feeling around the 46% mark, symptoms include: being generally weak, feeling hot and cold, headache, sore throat, partial loss of hearing, upset stomach and body ache. She’s sleeping often, no loss of appetite and seems improved slightly from 3 days ago when it first hit. She remains masked at all times, and as far as possible on a 4m wide boat, we’re all keeping our distance.

Around 1am was the first time I met Daphne....

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a happily married man, but my chance encounter with Daphne both thrilled and excited me.

She’s a big girl, and looks to be getting quite close to me...

I should probably clarify, Daphne is the name of the 750ft long cargo ship that, as I type, is passing a mere mile from our stern enroute to Brazil. It’s the first vessel we’ve seen since leaving Mindelo.

Although we’re motoring, my night shift tonight has been really quite lovely. The moon, now close to full, is sharing the night sky with a lacework of wispy clouds. It’s sparkling glow reflected in long lazy ripples on the glass smooth surface of the sea.

The moon set at 4:30 and with its departure from the sky, the stars showed themselves to their full - most notably my Antipodean mate the Southern Cross skirting low on the horizon in the South.

Day 3: Friday 14 Jan 2022

Woke to a slight change in the rocking below signalling a shift in the wind - it had picked up a little. With the 3 of us randomly on deck to witness a golden glowing dawn we were joined by a pod of small dolphins out for an early morning frolic.

They stayed with us as we pulled the sails out to give the engine and our ears a rest for an hour or so.

I hooked a starter for 3 sized Mahi Mahi mid morning. This will be fish taco starters tonight with fresh lemon and Sriracha

Change of plan: Martin then hooked two more Mahi - which are now going to be dinner tomorrow night in a Thai green curry. Not much more to report for now - life remains good

Late into my nightshift a squall comes up - from no wind to stiff breeze and pouring rain in the space of 2mins.

It stayed around just long enough for me to get both sails out and turn the engine off, it then disappeared as soon as it had come.

Shortly afterwards this gave rise to a phenomenon I had never seen before at night: a barely visible white grey ‘rainbow’ from the reflected light of the nearly full moon.

Day 4: Saturday 15 Jan 2022

Another dolphins at dawn day, for Martin at least - seeing twenty or so, two of whom stayed within a meter of the boat at his side.

Although it’s day four of this particular leg of our journey, it’s been 15 days since we left Las Palmas - and as such, it’s now time for our Day 15 Party!

We’ve had some goodies stashed away, which we agreed to open today.

After a hearty, spicy breakfast of huevos rancheros (which I like saying) we gathered on deck and opened our bounty:

Hawaiian style flower lays.

New hats, a fez for me and a bowler for Martin. Chez, opting against a hat, and instead getting a parrot for her captain’s shoulder.

Some pistachio nuts

Our favorite apple cider from Greece & Spain (called Kleftis or Ladron depending on where they sell it)

..and a special Cadbury’s Picnic bar - a rare treat indeed for a diabetic Martin.

We also cracked out the crew T shirts which we’d had embroidered with: ‘Serenity Now, Caribbean Crew, Antigua 2022’. Martin’s was very well received, he said he’ll treasure it. I suspect if he had a pool room it’d be going straight there.

Our lures drew the attention of a brace of white seabirds - parrot body shaped, long thin tail, bright pointy red beak and a black head - full identification will have to wait until mr. Google comes back into our lives.

We’d previously agreed that today, day 15, we would get tattooed - This to be done in permanent marker rather than the more traditional (and painful) needles.

I opted for a swirling black line down my forearm - it’s our recorded Navionics map track from a stormy night a few nights ago when things got a bit tricky with keeping the boat on course. It was a nice idea, but as Martin noted, it does look like a toddler has been at me with a felt tip. Chez chose a simple anchor for her wrist that paired really well with her infinite love heart on her other arm. Martin - doting grandfather to his daughter Laura’s son Freddie - chose a teddy bear, or more correctly a ‘Freddie bear’ that turned out really well.

‘How’s Chez?’ News: Shes somewhat perkier, reporting her overall percentage back up to 63% - not sure quite how she’s able to be so accurate, I’m guessing it’s something to do with her nurse training. Regardless, very glad she seems to be on the up.

A few light squalls in the afternoon and evening, and winds still only very light.... for now.

The planned mahi mahi Thai green curry was lovely.

...and just to top up our fish ration, Martin pulled in yet another one as he collected the lures at sunset.

After a long busy day in the galley, and a revitalising evening nap for me, it’s midnight, and I’m back on watch until 5 in the morning. Looks to be a lovely smooth clear night with a close to full moon. It was - and uneventful too.

Day 5: Sunday 16 Jan 2022

Wake up at around 9am to join the others up on deck. As I head up, the longed for wind has just started to grow from a whisper to a breeze. This is sufficient wind to keep the sails in shape and the motor off.

The sun is out, temp in the mid 20s, the sky is clear. The sea is one up from calm with gentle ripples on the surface and underlying rolling blue hills all around. We’re all in good spirits, lures trailing - nothing yet.

‘The sea air will do you good’ - that seems to have been the case for Chez. She’s now reporting feeling;

“Somewhere in the 70s”

A pleasingly increased, but somewhat less accurate figure than her previous health updates.

Home made lunch of butternut soup and Mahi fish tacos - so nice to have the time and inclination to make good tasty food. The wind picks up in the early afternoon to have us gliding along at a perfect 6knots - did I mention life’s good

...and in the late afternoon it turns to squally, we reef the sails. Then it turns very squally and rainy and we put the sails away and motor again. As I always say: storms pass, that holds true for small annoying squalls too. By evening we’re back under sail once more. It’s not a graceful glide through the water though. It’s a bow slapping rolly mess that makes my pre night shift nap a disturbed and uncomfortable affair. Chez wakes me at 11 for my shift. While I’m making my coffee, I’m caught off guard by a wave from an unexpected direction and end up doing a wrong footed stumble. This results in me solidly banging against the head high wooden rail above the galley sink. Despite letting out a yelp like a kicked dog, no harm done, and it’s a good reminder to be more careful below. Nothing to report overnight - annoying flappy sails and hull slapping seas - not much fun for anyone.

Day 6: Monday 17 Jan 2022

Our disturbed sleep and the unpleasantly rolling sea has set a glum mood over the boat this morning. Add to this, Chez relapsing slightly from yesterday, it’s not starting out as the best of days.

We’re forced to put the sails away and motor once again as the underlying large rolling waves are causing the sails to collapse. The resulting whipcrack as the sails come back into shape is no good for them (or us!) at all.

Midday, we’re able to once again continue under reefed sails alone. Chez and Martin taking this opportunity for a little sleep during the relative peace and quiet.

Later in the afternoon the wind played silly buggers with us again - dropping, then spinning 180 degrees. After an hour or so of going with it and sailing around in the wrong direction, we motored back onto our course and were soon rejoined by a well behaved steady blow from the North that suits us just fine.

‘I spy with my little eye’ is going strong - Martin currently has a ‘P’ underway.

(Turned out to be ‘preventer’ - the rope which stops the boom from jibing)

Lots of flying fish around today for some reason. They zoom out at right angles away from the boats travel to avoid being eaten by the 45 ft monster bearing down on them. Saw perhaps 30 or so.

In other fish news, none caught today. That’s been two days in row now with none landed. Add to this sorry state of affairs that I also lost a lure today, it’s not good....and to my utter shame it was lost to a badly tied knot - no excuses.

I woke from my evening nap early and took over at 10 instead of midnight. This was appreciated, but in hindsight I’d have preferred to have stayed in bed. The next few hours were a frustrating mixture of poor wind (too much, too little, wrong direction) and a large unrelenting sea that had the boat violently rolling in the most cupboard rattling way possible.

A frustrating night.

Day 7: Tuesday 18 Jan 2022

Woke up to a lovely smile from my wife - we’re still not hugging (trying to socially distance as much as possible). Martin’s below catching up on some of the sleep he missed in the night (he took over from me early at 3:30am).

Soon after dropping the lures off the back, our two day fish drought is broken with the biggest fish so far - a gorgeous mahi mahi - probably the biggest fish I’ve ever caught - think wedding buffet salmon sized.

After a lunch of very fresh fish tacos, we’re going along nicely at 6 knots on a beam reach, with the sun shining in a close to cloudless sky.

Chez’s daily reported health update: 83% - this is great news both for its high number and the return to her accurate reporting... sadly this news is offset by Martin now complaining of feeling a little queasy himself. He’s not been sleeping too well, so hoping a change around of the shifts tonight will give him a good sleep and see him restored to full health.

Another day with an abundance of flying fish. When Chez went for a nap this afternoon, I counted 71 of them skimming the surface before she returned a couple of hours later.

...and yes, I really did spend two hours staring out to sea counting flying fish!

Night shift: There’s blanket cloud cover tonight, somewhere behind which there’s a full moon, which gives a ‘someone left the nightlight on in the hall’ glow. No ships, we have a constant decent breeze on the beam. It’s all pleasingly boring, which I’m hoping translates into a good sleep for both members of the Smith family. Well it wasn’t to be: come 2:30am, the wind dropped, the sails flapped and cracked in the swell, and yet again I’m forced to crank up the noisey diesel engine - located less than a meter from Martin’s head. An hour later I managed to cut the engine and just fly the main - this then flapped enough in the weak gusts to keep Chez from sleeping and her mood not overly bright when she came on shift at 5.