Long Passage from Anguilla to the BVIs with a Relationship Test

Our Blackberry alarm clock awakened us at 2:30 am for the expected passage from Anguilla to Tortola. I planned to enter the BVIs through a gap between two of the islands that form the southern side of the Sir Frances Drake passage and then go on to Roadtown, Tortola, capital of the BVIs.  There one can check to customs. It is charted as a distance of 89.2 nautical miles. When we left the BVIs last December, it was through this gap, so this gap is the way back, right?  We usually plan for a speed of only six knots, though we usually do better, so this meant a passage of about 15 hours.

After coffee the windlass hauled our anchor at 3:15 a.m. and we picked our way past the few boats anchored behind us and got on course 290 magnetic, headed for that southern entrance, with no land for the next 82 miles. We had the wind at about 150 degrees off our starboard bow and hence were being pushed by both wind and waves and had right of way over everybody else, under power or sail. With the wind at ten to fifteen apparent knots we left the main down for this passage and flew only the genoa to pull us along. When we found we were going seven knots with the engine in neutral, we left it on in neutral for the balance of the hour for the refrigerator to be chilled, before turning it off.  We did see two lights off our port bow but radar showed us closing them at a very slow rate. During an hour, they changed from five miles ahead of us to 4.5 miles ahead. They were going the same direction as us, just a bit slower, perhaps fishing boats. 

We also saw a white light that appeared to be approaching us from dead ahead. When he got closer we saw red and green alternatively as he veered right and left while motoring toward us, his head tossed by the waves hitting his bow. He saw the same, because our head swung right and left of the 290 intended course.  As the vessel with right of way we are supposed to maintain our course and speed, and the other vessel is supposed to give way. Nevertheless I altered course ten degrees to the left to try to give him room.  I had no more lefting remaining without gybing the genoa. We got very close with his red light still showing  until, at last, he turned about 60 degrees to his left, showed us his whole starboard side and we were past him. We should have had the radio on and been talking with him. We were less than 100 yards apart – too close at night.

I tried to shoot a photo of the sunrise but the boat was moving too much and the shots were all blurry.  The two lights ahead, slightly to port, turned out to be sailboats going our way.

Then the wind shifted a bit to come even more directly behind us putting us closer to a dead run which is neither the fastest not the safest point of sail, especially with eight foot waves coming up behind us and throwing the boat from side to side.

So plan B was effectuated: we changed course to 300 magnetic and aimed for the northeast side of Virgin Gorda with plans to either enter  its North Sound, home of the Bitter End YC and Saba beach hotel from the north, or continue around that island's top to Spanishtown, on its sheltered west side, if we got there early enough.  This should have been plan A because examination of the chart shows it to be a about two miles shorter passage than the intended one. The course change brought the wind back from directly behind us to off our quarter which gave us more speed. During the six hour period from 4 am to 10 am our speed averaged 7.66 knots, with three half hour periods of 8.0 knots. Shortly after ten o’clock the wind and waves were taking over: we were overpowered and losing control. So we reduced sail by partially furling the genoa.

Here the dynamic of our relationship was tested. I asked Lene to ease the sheet while I cranked the roller furling line and she said “Which line?” We have done this a hundred times and I thought she should know. In fact, back when I was dating, I used to made a joke of it, telling my dates: “You have to resist me; but I have to win.” She has to continue to apply tension on the sheet which resists my effort to roll up the sail, but to let the sheet out slowly while I crank the furler line to get a nice tight wrap. This way the sail is entirely wrapped in its dark blue border and protected from the damage caused by ultraviolet light. I snarled back with exasperation: “What, you don’t know yet?” But the good news is that by the time the maneuver was accomplished, some 90 seconds later, I had realized I had done wrong; before Lene expressed any hurt feelings I apologized for my tone and said: “The only dumb question is the question not asked.” I think our relationship is simply getting stronger, because this old dog is learning new tricks. It took Lene until about a month ago to get into the slow pace of things down here. She has said she is enjoying the voyage. She recently expressed the fear that she would revert into her old TV watching ways when we got home.

                This is Ilene writing.  I do read all of Roger’s blogs before he posts and offer suggestions and edits. He usually accepts my suggestions and I usually admire his writing.  I just don’t have his diligence and commitment.  But, in reading the above paragraph I realized I want to express how I feel and not have Roger express my feelings for me…not this time.  Because the changes I feel are somewhat profound for me.  More than fear in reverting back to old ways of doing things and old habits, I am really enjoying the journey.  The boat is my home. When I leave it and see my surroundings, I have such gratitude for this opportunity and all it encompasses…the beauty of the islands and the Caribbean sea…the relaxed life style where I forget what day it is and there are no appointments…meeting fellow sailors and knowing we share this amazing journey….the challenges of sailing at night (which still freaks me out a bit but I am even contemplating making a two day journey where last year you could hardly get me to do one overnight!)  I am steering the boat onto and off of slips…rarely, but I am the designated driver and I’m good at it.  I am calmer and happier than I ever imagined I could be.  I admire and desire my husband who is ALWAYS thinking of how to please me.  I am reading up a storm and loving that too.  I am more nervous about coming home then I am about sailing the Mona Passage, between Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic, which has a reputation as being a rough and unpredictable 120 mile passage which obviously must be made at night!  Now that’s amazing.  I feel my mind and body slow down and, for want of a better phrase…I am smelling the roses more than I can remember ever doing.

So, that’s all from me for now.  I hope I feel inspired to write again soon.

But a partially furled genoa is a misshaped thing compared to our small jib, so after a while we unfurled that small sail and used the lee it created to furl the genoa all the way. For the 4.5 hour period starting at 10:30, with only one (our smallest) sail, our speed was reduced to an average of 5.625 knots, faster at the beginning of this period and slower at the end, when Virgin Gorda’s lee reduced the wind.

Here is Parago point, the easternmost point of the easternmost Virgin (except Anagada).

 

I have been to Virgin Gorda on each of my four prior sails in the BVIs, without ever having passed this way; actually, this side of Virgin Gorda is not actually “in” the BVIs, but right outside them.

Here is the Saba Rock Hotel (where Ilene spent three days recovering from sun poisoning last year) viewed from the sea.

There is a passage among the reefs that encircle the north side of this island and into North Sound from the north past the left side of Saba rock, but only for persons with experience in navigating this straight. We passed south of Nekkar Island, site of another difficult to get to luxury resort.
Posted from the Peter Island resort Hotel dock.