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?
Episode #3 was with Anna Vinnars. Ryan and I pulled off an international three-way Skype conversation - Anna was in Malmö, on the Swedish west coast, I was in Stockholm (or just outside, in Dunderbo), and Ryan was in West Virginia. So that was neat. I mentioned in the intro that I loved her voice, so we I called her up a few days later and we recorded the intro and outro bits.
Anna is one of Mia Karlsson's (Andy's wife) 'swim girls', whom she grew up with in Uppsala Sweden. Since high school and her swim days, 'Vinnars' has led a decidedly non-traditional life, particularly from the American standpoint of highschool, college, career. After high school, Vinnars set out for Africa, where she lived and worked in the countryside, volunteering to help out local orphanages.
It's boat show time in Annapolis! I think most people, especially those working the show (and the townies) kind of dislike this crazy, crowded weekend of selling and buying. But I love it. I've been coming to the show since I was a kid, and just the atmosphere around everything is still very exciting for me. I feel like a six year old. By the way, come say hi in booth O-18 between 10-4!
Matt Rutherford is newly famous in the sailing world for his recent 'Solo the Americas' Expedition. An Annapolis transplant, Matt set out from the Chesapeake Bay in June 2011 on an extraordinary adventure, sailing north through the Northwest Passage and Canadian Arctic before turning south into the Pacific and sailing for the Roaring Forties and Cape Horn.
By August 8th, we were were back to sea, Inverness in our wake and Scandinavia just over the horizon! Arcturus was gliding along at 4-5 knots on a beam reach, full sail on the first full day in the North Sea. The sky was low and overcast (I expected we’d see a lot of that), and we could still see Scotland off the starboard quarter, though it was quickly fading over the horizon. Keith, the yard worker in Bangor, N. Ireland told us that “if you can see Scotland, it’s going to rain – if you can’t see it, it is raining.”
Note: Henceforth, our sailing content will appear on sailfeed.com, SAIL magazine's online site. We'll be posting summaries here, and you'll always see the 'SAILfeed' logo on the left so you know what's what. Just click the title (or the logo), and the full article is linked.
Cool, eh!? Now I’m inspired. Took me some time. And a cheese sandwich.
This story was about our last overnight passage on Arcturus, from Visby up to the Stockholm archipelago. I wrote it in my journal as it happened, then copied it here in the past tense, as I've been doing. It took place just before Sept. 1...
It was my last night watch of the summer on Arcturus. Mia and I are heading off to Portugal soon to sail Kinship (the boat we delivered with its owner trans-Atlantic earlier this summer) down to Las Palmas, so it wasn't my last real night watch, but felt like it in a way since I wouldn't be seeing my boat for a while.
Note: This was originally from my hand-written journal, written on 23 August. I copied it to the computer, changed it to the past tense and edited/added a few things here and there...
It blew hard in Visby the day we arrived. Unfortunately from the west, and right through the opening in the breakwater. The wind brought with it a very annoying swell that battered the empty guest harbor.
Note: This was originally from my hand-written journal, written on 19 August. I copied it to the computer, changed it to the past tense and edited/added a few things here and there...
We crossed through the Falsterbokanalen a few hours after leaving Clint in Malmö, officially entering the Baltic Sea ('Östersjön' in Swedish), by my estimation anyway...not sure where it officially starts or ends, but that seemed a convenient enough place.
August 11th, my last evening watch before we’d make landfall in Marstrand. I had one more dawn watch – 0500-0900 – the following morning. We were less than 100 miles from Marstrand.
It was easily the nicest day of the passage – blue sky, bright sunshine and shorts-and-t-shirt warm. A welcome reward after the ‘eventful’ night before.
It was just after 1:00 am on the 10th, on my morning watch. I had gotten the GoPro working again after it’s leaking incident, and – knock on wood – maybe it wasn’t broken after all. I left it lay on the portside shelf wrapped in a paper towel and a few of those moisture absorber things that come in clothing, and that you’re not supposed to eat. After reassembling it, it appeared to be in order, I hoped.
By August 8th, we were were back to sea, Inverness in our wake and Scandinavia just over the horizon!
Arcturus was gliding along at 4-5 knots on a beam reach, full sail on the first full day in the North Sea. The sky was low and overcast (I expected we’d see a lot of that), and we could still see Scotland off the starboard quarter, though it was quickly fading over the horizon.
Today is kind of the day Mia and I have been waiting for for almost five years now. Today we’ll set sail for Sweden, the final leg of our voyage ‘home’ that started in earnest in the spring of 2008 when we first laid eyes on Cybele, the boat we saw in Oxford and which I knew would be ours the minute I pulled into the parking lot where she was hauled out.
Note: This is an old post (sort of)...I wrote it four days ago in Oban, so it's kind of outdated, but I wanted to post it anyway. I'll catch up on the rest of the trip in another couple days before we sail for Shetland. This one was written in the cabin of Arcturus when we were moored just off the town's community sailing center, trying to figure out which direction to go.
We made it as far as Oban. The engine is working remarkably (thanks again Richard the mechanic!), and we had a fantastic 9-hour, 60-mile sail from the island of Islay up to Oban yesterday. Mia and I decided to head for the Caledonian Canal and do some inland exploring, before we pop out the other side and make a beeline for Sweden.
The banner at the top of the website is what the boat looked like when we returned to Ireland last week. It looked a lot worse underneath - there was nine months worth of boatyard and parking lot dust (black, sooty stuff) all over the decks, and I'd forgotten how we had taken everything apart inside to leave it air out. It was two days until Mia and my dad had it cleaned up enough to feel liveable.
Enough with the cycling. We're headed back to Ireland this afternoon and have six weeks to sail Arcturus as far as we can get towards Sweden. The general plan is to head from Bangor, Northern Ireland (where the boat has been hauled since September) and up the west coast of Scotland before jumping off to Shetland
