Seeing the ice in clear skies was a hell of a reward for the heavy weather yesterday. Thus far we’ve stopped to admire two big bergs from close range, bringing in ICEBEAR under power (the wind, after all that fuss, shut down completely around 1200 noon as we rounded Cape Race) to within a hundred yards or so. I put the drone up to get a bird’s eye view, and the crew stopped to admire the beauty of nature’s most striking sculpture. Both bergs we stopped for had at some point in their decay rolled, for the tops of them were pure white and smooth as marble, highlighted in spots by deep turquoise cracks where they’d broken apart and re-frozen during their lifespan.
This has been all over my Facebook page the past couple of days, thanks to Kevin King, who crewed with us and took the footage. When the whale first approached, we were in awe, and just enjoyed his company. Kevin wanted to film right away, but I kind of discouraged him - if you're always behind the camera, you can't appreciate what's right in front of you. But the whale kept coming back! I was afraid jamming the camera down in the water might scare him off (he thinking it might be a harpoon!), but eventually we gave it a go. I think it was worth it!
This was written yesterday, posted today (Monday). Photos below.
We arrived into St. Croix yesterday afternoon after what I think was probably the easiest passage I’ve ever done. We sailed on starboard tack the whole way, broad reaching in anywhere from 8-25 knots, and only motoring for one hour, through a pretty calm spot when the sails were banging around and we had to roll up the jib.
I will have WAY more to say about this in due time, but wanted to post it immediately. Thanks to Dave for sharing - you know who you are. Might we have finally reached a tipping point when it comes to taking offshore sailing seriously, instead of a ride to warmer weather?
I just had an interesting email exchange with a friend whose in the (years-long) process of outfitting his boat for extended ocean cruising. The boat is similar to Arcturus, and we have similar ideas about things, and somehow got in touch a few years back. Anyway, we've had several of these types of exchanges. I won't say who it is out of respect for his privacy, but I want to publish my response to his latest email about rigging, sails and engines. I'll preface each section with what I'm about to discuss, but won't include anything specific that he's emailed me. What's your take?
This post is long overdue, but it’s the first chance I’ve had to sit down and write it. I’m typing this from the nav station on Isbjorn. We’re anchored in Grand Case, a pretty little bay on the French side of St. Martin. The wind is gusting down over the hills to the east, hitting the mid 30’s in the big puffs and whirling us around on the anchor. It’s Easter Sunday. Note: Scroll down to the bottom for detailed photos with captions on the whole repair.
I’m going to write a recap of the RORC Caribbean 600 - which I’ll say now, without a doubt, was one of the absolute highlights of my sailing career, even despite having to retire before the finish - but first, I’ll get straight to the higher point I want to make with this blog post. As of this morning, it’s official that Isbjorn will be back at the starting line of the 600 in 2017 in Antigua, hell bent on not only finishing the course, but winning our class. We’re changing our passage schedule to do it, and I can’t wait.
Isbjörn is well under way in the RORC Caribbean 600. The first 3 boats have already finished the race, with the trimaran Phadeo3 breaking the record from last year and finishing in just under 32 hours, impressive!
There's just over 24 hours to go until the start, and less than that until Isbjorn leaves her anchorage in Falmouth and heads for the line. As I write, Paul and the crew are ashore having breakfast while I'm tidying up the boat, charging the batteries, making water and getting her ready to go out sailing today for a quick practice before tomorrow's race.
This morning, over coffee, Paul is preparing for his weather briefing. The RORC media team is doing a feature comparing us to Phaedo, the fastest boat in the fleet (a MOD 70 trimaran who sailed the course in 33 hours last year). They want to hear our weather briefing and will film it for the race website. We'll also be doing a video blog during the race, which The World Sailing Show will be using after the race in a TV production!
Contrary to the first leg bound for Grenada, this leg, improvised at the last minute to salvage a neat trip for the crew, got off to an awesome start and has been going splendidly. Greg, Ryan (from Leg 1), Andy (an old friend from high school) and Mike rounded out our crew, and Clint is still here as mate (otherwise known as the ‘Wanker on the Anchor’). We’re six dudes now, and missing the charming female influence of Cissi…my ukulele playing is missing the accompaniment!
If you read the last post you’ll know that halfway south to Grenada, the boat broke. Amazingly, aside from three deliveries I canceled before the boat ever left the dock (thanks to crappy boats), I’ve never had to turn around on an offshore trip before. But, as I’m all too aware, if you do this stuff long enough, things are going to happen, even to the best of us.
Our first leg of 2016, and one filled with drama! Heavy weather on the way south tested our mettle, and then in the middle of the night, the furler jammed & forced us to divert back to BVI. The very next morning the mainsail blew out across a seam from leech to luff. A quick turnaround in the BVI and a new furler and mainsail and we were back in business!
Another update from Andy. He is sending me short and sweet texts from our YB tracker we have onboard.
Anyway, Isbjorn is heading back to BVI after yesterday's jib jam. Andy has a feeling it may be more than just a jam and we have learned to follow our feeling and always put boat safety first.
The update from Andy today, including a few comments from the crew:
A quick update from Andy and Isbjorn. He called me this evening around 1900 AST. When they rolled up the jib to tack over to head for the island of Guadalope (the planned stop on the trip south), the headsail jammed. Andy is not comfortable to continue upwind in the dark with a potential issue so they have turned "back" on a broadreach.
Last night in Soper’s Hole was another ill-advised attempt at taking convenience over comfort. Ryan is meeting us in a few hours at Soper’s Hole and it would have been so much easier to wake up in the place we’d meet him. But anchoring amongst a crowd of boat’s in 70-feet was probably never going to work, and we should have had a Plan B in the first place.
