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?
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.
I’m in a reflective mood tonight, re-reading John Kretschmer’s Sailing a Serious Ocean and reminding myself why I wanted to go ocean sailing in the first place. John’s writing is what inspired me down this career path, and anytime I get overly stressed about our business I pickup one of his books and do a reset. I’ve been thinking about all the miles we’ve sailed on ISBJORN since buying her in 2015. Over 40,000 and counting, from 10º north in the Caribbean to 80º north in the High Arctic, and some of my all-time favorite landfalls in between. Horta. Lunenburg. St. Pierre & Miquelon. Bermuda. Lagos. Marstrand. Stockholm. Lofoten. Ile Fourche. Bequia. So many places, and such a cool boat…
