Double Crossing
60 days aboard Navigator. Not a single night ashore. Most nights at anchor, a few at moorings. Our bodies have forgotten what it is like to sleep without some motion rocking us to sleep. Sometimes a lot of motion.
After leaving Big Major and Pig Beach, we returned north along the Exuma's to Highbourne Cay. We need to be in Hope Town in the Abaco's, 120 miles north, by March 31st, to meet our friends, Fran and Bob. Getting there involves 2 crossings: one 65 miles across the Exuma bank to Spanish Wells; and one from Spanish Wells to the Abaco's - another 65 miles. But first we need to wait out another Norther.
By now our routines are set. On most days, we anticipate traveling 25 miles or less - just a few hours of moving - from one island to the next. On those days we are making coffee by 8:00 and underway by 9:00 or 9:30. At anchor my 13:00. A light lunch and then maybe launch the dingy and go ashore. There is frequently a short hike and a swim. Cocktails somewhere between 17:00 and 18:00 followed by a dinner. Liz is a fantastic chef, and I tend the grill. After dinner we watch an episode or two (our favorites: "The Pitt"; "Shrinking"; and lately the Daniel Craig - James Bond movies). Sometimes we play a round of cards, and off to bed by 21:00.
We read a lot. Our current favorite author is TA Williams who writes murder mysteries about a former British Chief Inspector who has retired to Florence, Italy, and opens a private investigation service with his dog Oscar. Oscar displays impeccable judgement of the various suspects and frequently uncovers important clues.
On days we are making a crossing - we usually are up by 6:30 and underway by 7:00. Eight hours underway means 65 miles or so. Our best day was 100 miles in 10 hours, which required every bit of daylight and carefully maintaining speed. Navigator has no problem chugging along for those periods. Only wind, current and daylight change the equation.
If we are staying multiple nights at a location we have a more relaxed schedule, depending on how we feel. That might involve a hike and a swim, or a cruise around the mooring field chatting with people. At a marina, like on Highbourne Cay, long walks on the beach or on the golf cart tracks. Marinas have the advantage of proximity to a restaurant so our habit is lunch one day, dinner the next.
Staying connected to the outside world has taken on different perspective. We have occasionally been within cellular range, more than we expected, but also highly unpredictable. The populated islands like Bimini and Nassau had full cell coverage, but most did not. But we also have Starlink, so we are connected to the outside world when we need to.
The biggest benefit of being connected is that it allows us to keep in touch with our family and friends. All of you. Of course, Liz posts something on Facebook almost every day and I post a blog update maybe one a week. It is nice to know people are following us and we enjoy the comments you make.
George trying to climb aboard Navigator via Face Time
We Facetime with my daughter Jessica and grandson George about once a week (we wonder exactly what George thinks about our calls). Liz has regular calls with her daughter Katherine and her brother and sister in law, Christopher and Linda. Nate and I talk. We also have regular phone calls and text exchanges with some of our closest friends (and brain trust), many of whom are following us on Marine Traffic and offer advice and encouragement. We enjoy hearing from you.
We do generally allow ourselves some time to keep track of the news - usually over breakfast - but honestly it is nice being 'detached'. Yes, we see the headlines, and yes we each read a few articles each day, but we are not immersed in the constant bombardment of news, or fake news as the case may be. We don't miss it.
Instead we focus on more immediate things. Every morning I review the weather forecast. Of course, I am looking at the weather for that day, but as much keeping a rolling look ahead for upcoming weather events. For example, we check back into Highbourne marina because we anticipated another norther. We needed to be someplace secure.
Also, we look ahead at the weather as part of planning any crossings. For example while waiting the Norther to pass we saw a window coming to cross to Spanish Wells - with the possibility of another window to cross to the Abacos two days later. Those were opportunities we did not want to miss.
Planning the route for these crossings entails sweating the details. For example, the crossing from Highbourne to Spanish Wells presented two choices. First, a route 25 miles across Exuma Bank, through Fleming Cut, then outside Current Island and then another 25 miles across the edge of the North East Providence Channel. Alternatively, a route inside Current Island, through Current Cut. Similar distances but the first would involve crossing the deep water along the edge of NE Providence Channel, whereas going inside Current Island would keep us entirely on the bank, and offer us protection from any west wind. However, passing through Current Cut, a narrow channel that funnels the tide, requires precise timing to avoid peak ebb or flood flows. After a little research (thanks Bill & Ted), we elected the outside route. Crossing a bit of the NE Providence Channel was more straight forward compared to the the uncertainty of timing the Cut.
As it turned out the crossing to Spanish Wells was a breeze. A light breeze. The weather was fair, the winds light and variable and the water calm. We encountered only a handful of small boats during the crossing, so the autopilot did most of the work. Liz and I just had to take turns keeping an eye on traffic.
Our crossing two days later to the Abaco's was a bit more challenging as we crossed a fairly busy shipping channel. The North East Providence Channel is, in fact, one of the oldest shipping channels in the America's. When Spanish Galleons left Cartegena laden with gold and treasure bound for Spain the 1500's, they followed the Gulf Stream along the Florida Keys with the Gulf Stream, then just past Bimini turned eastward into the North West Providence Channel and thence into the North East Providence Channel. They followed those channels, to Spanish Wells where they would replenish water in preparation for the journey across the Atlantic.
On our crossing we encountered a number of cargo ships including 'Antwerp', a 349 m long container ship. We were following a line of about 15 sail boats all making the same crossing to the Abaco's when 'Antwerp' came up from the west. Acording to the AIS she was moving 22 mph, on a heading perpendicular to our own. While 22 mph may seem slow, when we first observered her she was just over 10 miles away. That means she would be on us in less than a half and hour. Time to make good decisions.
In crossing situations the acid test is the relative bearing between two intersecting vessels. Using a hand held compass, you take the bearing to the target vessel. If the bearing remains the same over time, you are on a collision course. If the bearing increases or decreases, then you should be OK.
I spent a few minutes studying the relative bearing to Antwerp and made the following observations: At 08:57, the bearing to Antwerp was 298; at 09:02, her bearing was 290. Fairly certain from those two observations that she would pass astern of us I increased speed just to improve safety margin. I continued to observe the relative bearing closely: 09:05, bearing 288; 09:08, bearing 287; 09:11, bearing 285. All good. (Thanks Rob for the hand held compass)
Interestingly, at this point one of the sailboats trailing astern of us got on the VHF and inquired if Antwerp had them in view - obviously concerned they might not have been observed at the back of the pack. Antwerp responded that 'yes, they had them on AIS', and courteously indicated that they would alter course further to starboard, thereby increasing the separation. At 09:21 Antwerp passed 1.1 miles astern of us.
The weather could not have been better. Sunshine, a light breeze and gentle ocean swells. We arrived at the cut near Little Harbour just after high tide and made it across the bar easily.
We anchored near the 'Sarah G', a 65-foot, a three-masted steel schooner with distinctive lines. Turns out the Sarah G had been damaged by Hurricane Dorian in 2019 while in Man-O-War Cay. The Jordan's found her in 2020, afloat but severely damaged. They towed her back to the states and rebuilt her in Aries Pond, Orleans, MA. They now live aboard leading a cruising life with their two daughters, Grace and Eleanor.
The 'Sarah G' and Navigator in the background
George, Anna and Eleanor
















What a great set of skills you both have to enable and continue your adventures on the seas! Continued great weather and safe journey. Rick Burl b
ReplyDeleteSurg - this was a particularly interesting posting! Very diverse on its subject matter and gave me/us a fine idea of 'life on board' which I admit I wondered about. Its obvious you are a well 'oiled' team! I have to say that I was ESPECIALLY surprised to see a photo of George! What an adorable boy - he does look as though he'd like to climb aboard. Better give him a couple years.
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