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?
I am writing this as the sun is slowly setting in Lagos. Falken has now been washed, scrubbed, emptied and re-stored following her post-passage checklist that we thoroughly follow. There is an aura of accomplishment, relive and just general awesomeness feeling onboard and not just for the successful trip that we’ve just ran but because this marks Falken’s first successful season in the Atlantic, sailing an astonishing 16.112nm.
We spent the day sailing under the chute, dousing it before dinnertime and getting all the lines and gear stowed for the night. It’s November, and while it’s nice and warm here off southern Portugal, the nights are long. It gets dark around 1730, and doesn’t get light again until around 0700, so the night watches are long. But the stargazing more than makes up for it. We passed around the binoculars last night, taking turns looking at Orion’s belt and the millions of stars in the background that you’d never seen ashore.
This morning we woke up on anchor just off the beach and cliffs in Sagres, usually the crew struggle to get a good night sleep the first night, new noises, a bit or nerves and new crew mates. Second night though, most crew sleep like a rock. Yesterday was the first morning for the crew onboard. Bob has sailed with us earlier this year, and James have already signed up for a trans-Atlantic with us in 2024….
Well, hope to sail anyway. Lagos is sitting smack in the middle of the end of a long axis of high-pressure, so there’s not much air moving around in the marina anyway. The ‘Azores' High’ is stretched out and has reached the coast here. Typically you see the high centered further west, and along the coast of Portugal tend to get northerlies, the ‘Portuguese Tradewinds’. Unlucky for us, we’re not in a typical pattern right now.
After 1,000 Miles
1,077 miles sailed since departing Rockland, Maine on a Tuesday morning. Today marks the start of the 8th day at sea aboard ICEBEAR, another Tuesday morning, but in a very different place. The passage has been both uneventful and eventful, tiring and restful, fantastic sailing and frustrating calms.
ISBJORN & ICEBEAR update
November 19, 2020
Here is another update from the boats, this time I decided to make a combined post from both of the boats.
ICEBEAR is within 100 miles from Antigua with and ETA this evening, not sure if they can make it before sunset. ISBJORN is about a day behind, and will arrive sometime Friday evening / night.
ICEBEAR Update
November 17, 09.30
It’s 0930 and we’re sailing upwind again, making 8.5 knots and pointing for our destination. I didn’t think our crew would see any downwind sailing this passage, with all the forecasts showing week after week of headwinds. They had gotten used to life at an angle, and the “low side” was much better rested than the “high side”.
ICEBEAR Update
16 November, 3.23 am
0323 in the morning. We had a very fast start to the day, broad reaching with full sail, including the staysail, in like 20-25 knots of wind from the ENE. Topped out at 10.6, and averaged over 9 knots on the 12-4pm watch. Scott & Shook-Ming covered 37 miles in that stretch! Mostly on autopilot, as we were all sitting out in the cockpit doing more celestial navigation. We went through a full sight reduction!
ISBJORN Update
November 15, 05.00
It is 2152 here on Isbjorn and i just got off watch at 2100. I am sitting at he Nav Station on Isbjorn with only one red reading light illuminating the dark cloudy night. What a difference a night can make out here. Last night it was gusting 30knts apparent and we had three reefs in the main and genoa.
T-Minus 10 Seconds to the End of the World
Friday the 13th, 100 miles east of Bermuda, on the edge of the Bermuda Triangle. ICEBEAR is ripping, blast-reaching on an ESE’ly heading, two reefs in the main, two reefs rolled into the big genoa, sailing in 20 knots of breeze on 70º apparent. Freight train mode, the boat making 8-9 knots, the helm light
Update from ICEBEAR,
Friday 13 november, 04.30 boat time
Friday the 13th. Spooky. Day five of headwinds. They’ve varied in strength but never in direction - right on the nose. It’s been a while since I’ve sailed close-hauled for this long. 847 miles since we left Annapolis, with the first 130 or so motor-boatin’ down the flat calm Chesapeake. The minute we were able to set sail the sheets were tight, day-in, day-out.
First in to the finish at St George's at 10:31 Friday night was Andy Schell's Swan 59 Icebear skippered by Sean Westoby, followed by Hank Schmitt's Swan 48 Avocation at 3:06 PM on Saturday, then fellow North leg competitor Alessandro Pagani double-handing with Anthony Johnson on his Spirit 47 Luna at 8:35 PM, with Andy Schell's Swan 48 Isbjorn skippered by Vincent Matiola crossing the finish on Saturday night at 9:56 PM.
Isbjörn is on a merry beat across the north Atlantic with the wind on her nose and a healthy crew. It’s been an upwind slogfest since lifting anchor outside of Maryland’s Solomon Islands, where we rafted up with Icebear on the 4th of July. We’ve traded the blistering heat and ridiculous humidity of the Chesapeake Bay summer for salty air and a cool offshore breeze - coming straight off of Bermuda, of course. But we’re thankful!
Facing headwinds on their final approach to the finish, Andy Schell's Swan 59 Icebear skippered by Sean Westoby is poised to be the first entry to cross the finish line in the inaugural Spirit of Bermuda Charity Rally organized by the East End Mini Yacht Club (EEMYC) and the Sailing Yacht Research Foundation (SYRF). This team sailed the West leg of the course starting off the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay on Monday afternoon at 1500 EDT, and with 28 miles to go at 1600 EDT, their anticipated finish time in St George's is for just before 9:00 PM.
We had a perfect start on Sunday evening when we pushed off from St. Thomas. Steady trades made for a happy ICEBEAR and happy crew. Matt and Layton made a delicious quinoa salad and we reached along making 7 or 8 knots all night. Alex and I stood the 2100-0000 watch that night and saw an epically bright, big, waning moon rise. We enjoyed a bit more sailing on Monday morning. During our 0600-0900 watch we shook out the reef in the main and added the staysail. As the day warmed up the breeze died out, so we fired up the iron sails. So glad to have had ~ 20 hours of good easy sailing to start us off.
By ICEBEAR Mate Emma Garschagen
How fast the world can change! Just a week ago, Alex and I were leaving home in Boulder, CO to get on a plane. Having been in lockdown for the past two and a half months, hardly seeing even close family and friends, we made the decision to take two flights and stay in a hotel. The change felt drastic, but the more we thought it over, the more we knew we had to go meet ICEBEAR in the Caribbean to sail her north to Annapolis. The trip was just too good to pass up!
Today's the day. As I type this, both ISBJORN & ICEBEAR are at-sea...well, kinda. ICEBEAR, under skipper Sean Westoby, is at-sea for real, sailing north from Grenada towards USVI, while ISBJORN is on a short motor-boat right from BVI over to USVI having just be re-launched and commissioned on Friday at Nanny Cay Marina. They'll rendezvous in USVI and as early as this weekend, weather permitting, sail northbound for the Chesapeake and home waters of Annapolis!
