After so many months of anticipating leaving, I never expected that we wouldn't even have the opportunity to fret about it. After going down the Elizabeth River to the Atlantic Yacht Agency marina and Ocean Marine to investigate a problem with our small generator and check the Hertz which had been getting lower and lower, we fueled up, checked weather, both Navtex * and weather fax, and quickly came to the conclusion that it was time to leave. We hadn't been expecting to leave, but all of the conditions pointed to a favorable trip, so we figured we would complete last minute preparations in the roughly 2 hours it would take to get out of the Bay.
* Navtex is a text broadcast that contains weather and local notice to mariners data for off-shore and harbor entries.
While Mike did an expert job of handling the boat with all of the shipping traffic on the Elizabeth, I grabbed our list and started working. Out came the 'Oh Shit' bag or as most folks call them the abandon ship bag, to be deposited in a safe place on our back deck. Up went our final offshore window, out came harness and jack lines and finally it was time to start rigging the sea anchor. Because both of us were required to rig the sea anchor, we turned to Hal and Herc, our computer and autopilot, to handle the boat while we worked on running the sea anchor line forward. Both of us donned harnesses and secured ourselves to the jack lines that attach us to the boat both fore and aft and while keeping an eye out for shipping and other traffic, we started running the line. Let me tell you, this is not a trivial task underway in the bay in 3 foot seas, especially considering that the line has to be run outside the life lines and rigging, secured by cable ties. I worked on hands and knees securing the line while Mike handled feeding me the line and keeping it tight. After securing the line to our bow cleat, we then started cleaning up the fore deck and putting away deck lines. I then asked how much longer to the Ocean and Mike said we had been in it for about 20 to 30 minutes. At the end of all of this I was turning slightly green so I stayed outside while Mike did a final sweep inside. Next he did a sweep outside, including looking over our bow rail. When he saw no dolphins, one could hear the call go out, "Here flipper, flipper, flipper!" It didn't work.
We both agreed that we would listen to and check in with Herb who does weather analysis for many cruising boats that are off-shore on frequency 12359.0 at 1930 GMT (1430 PM EST). He told us that it looked like this was "as good a time as any to go around Cape Hatteras." We were set and on our way. At 2019 GMT, I saw what appeared to be a water spout from a whale. Though we looked, we never saw more evidence of whales though. The Coast Guard puts out a NAVTEX message every couple of days, basically advising that running into whales is not good for them or your vessel so we kept a eye out for them. Mike took the first watch and sent me to try to get some rest since he figured he wouldn't be able to rest until we cleared the shipping lanes.
As the evening progressed, the winds died down and the seas grew calmer. At 2232 GMT, we were hailed by the Sharon Anne with the Galagers on board headed to Wrightsville Beach. We set up a periodic radio check with them for as long as we were in range, this gave each boat someone to talk to during the lonely night . At this time, we were traveling just over a knot faster than they were.
As the night wore on, Mike and I traded off watches about every three or so hours. It was a beautiful crystal clear night, except to port where there was fog off the Gulf Stream. Mike saw a flying fish skim across the water at 0111 GMT, as he said when all you are seeing is smooth flat water any thing is exciting. At 0740 GMT on November 9, we were hailed by the S/V Phoenix that was being delivered south for the winter.
At 0900 GMT (4:00 AM EST), Mike called me on deck so that we would both be awake for going around the Diamond Shoals light and Cape Hatteras. At 1000 GMT we changed course; we had passed the Cape! Very shortly after that, Mike went below and tried to sleep. I was alone for the sunrise that was an incredible array of light and color dancing on the nearly glassy surface of the water off of Cape Hatteras, it was a most spectacular sight, and one that is relatively new to me as I prefer to sleep in late. At 1050, we were hailed by a container ship to let us know that he would turn to starboard to give us better clearance. Mike, upon hearing the radio, was up like a shot; he wanted to know all of the particulars of what was going on. After that, being hungry, he fixed us both something to eat. At 1200 GMT, we saw a huge sea turtle floating around and soaking up the sun. After our first experience with a Turtle off of West Plam Beach, Mike figured it would be better not to get to excited over this. The first time he saw a Turtle he yelled Turtle, Turtle, Turtle and pointed to it so Ruth and I could see it. I thought he was yelling turn, turn, turn and pointing to the way he wanted me to go, I ended up chasing a Turtle for about 50 yards as he tried to get out of my way. He did manage to make it.
At 1510 GMT, shortly after we turned on our water maker, we discovered a small oil spill at 34° 50.45' N by 75° 47.47'W. We notified the Coast Guard at Cape Hatteras of this.
At 1934 GMT, dolphins responded to Mike's earlier call and swam past the boat. Unfortunately, he was soundly asleep and missed them, so they put in another appearance at 2049!
At 2130 GMT, we headed into the Beaufort Inlet. This is a difficult inlet to shoot due to all of the shore lights; so by the time we made it to the anchorage and City Docks, we opted to tie up instead of anchor in the darkness with boats everywhere. This also allowed us to get a good nights sleep.
We tied up at 2345 GMT, and then watched a number 4 red daymark, with 30 foot piling attached, float down the channel at between 2 and 3 knots due to the fast current they have here. Mike reported this to the Coast Guard since it was a hazard to navigation as well as a hazard to the boats anchored!
Finally, we went to dinner and then slept for 12 hours. We completed our first ocean passage south in just under 29 hours, with 228 miles under our keel.
Voyages