The Road to the Horizon

Finding Dory - Webinar 10: "Sailing a catamaran across the ocean: Tips and tricks"

2025-10-21T12:11:00.008+01:00

When sailing a catamaran in an open ocean is different from sailing a monohull. Specifically on an East-West transatlantic, with bigger waves and mostly down-wind sailing, "cats are different". They present both specific challenges and advantages versus sailing a monohull.

No surprise that many people in our "Finding Dory" group, now assembling about 160 boats and over 200 cruisers, asked for a webinar on the "tips and tricks" of sailing a cat in their upcoming transat passage.

For this upcoming webinar, we assembled a formidable panel of very experienced cruisers, each with an impressive ocean-sailing curriculum. Some sail "cruising cats", some sail "performance cats". Each also sailed monohulls before... So,... an ideal quorum of expertise for a panel...

And in this webinar, we will do things a bit differently: We won't have the "traditional" programme of "1 hour presentations", followed by "30 minutes of questions and answers"... We will only do "questions and answers", which will make this (I hope!) a very interactive, engaging and spontaneous webinar.

And even if you are not a catamaran sailor, it will be interesting also for (even the hardcore) monohull sailors, as sailing -for me- is all about the continuous process of learning, and sharing different experiences.

So, if you want to learn about how experienced catamaran sailors do their weather routing, choose their downwind sails, set up their sail plans, prepare their boat/crew, join in this webinar.

This will also be the last webinar for our "Finding Dory IV" flotilla, before we all start migrating "further South" and "further West". So we are motivated to make this webinar, "the cherry on the cake", our "swan song" :-) .

So, join our 10th free webinar on Monday Oct 27th at 19:00 Rome time (CET) - or 18:00 GMT - Note that Europe changes to Daylight Savings time the day before, hence the new CET time.

Our webinar will be held on “ZOOM” and consist of +- 90 minutes of open discussions between the audience and the panel.

Our webinars are free for all “Finding Dory” members. We will record the session and publish the link to the recording afterwards to all members of our community.

The instructions on how to join this webinar, are distributed to "Finding Dory" members only, rather than widely distributing the link via social media, mainly to avoid spammers to join in, and disturb our webinar.

So, if you want to participate in the webinars, first join the "Finding Dory" community. Via our flotilla's Whatsapp group, we will send you details for each webinar. Instructions on how to join the growing "Finding Dory" flotilla on Whatsapp, you can find in this Noforeignland blogpost.

About panelist Erich Baier:

Erich Baier is a retired electrical engineer, born and raised in Germany who spent most of his professional career at various locations in the USA.
Sailing wasn’t on his, nor his family’s, mind until they enjoyed a sailing vacation with close friends in the BVI in 1996. He got certified through the RYA to enjoy family charters until his early retirement in 2014.
Erich and his wife Sabine jumped into ocean sailing with passages between the US East Coast and the BVI, participating in the World ARC 2016 from St Lucia to Tahiti, delivering boats to/from the U.S. East Coast to the Caribbean, to build hands-on experience before purchasing their first own boat: In 2018 they ordered "S/V Seabbatical", a Morelli and Melvin designed HH OC50 catamaran, which was delivered to Barcelona in 2020. They sailed the Mediterranean on Seabbatical up to late 2024, and crossed the Atlantic East-West, in January 2025.
You can follow their voyage on Instagram and Noforeignland.

About panelist Fergus Dunipace:

Fergus is a RYA Ocean Yacht Master and cruising instructor.
Having lived on their own catamaran for eight years, sailing slowly from the Mediterranean to Australia, Fergus and his wife know a fair amount about the liveaboard lifestyle and crossing oceans. On returning to the UK in 2023, Fergus worked with various transatlantic and world rallies. This winter he will be crossing the Atlantic for the 4th time, from Las Palmas to Grenada on a Nautitech 46.
Fergus is a huge believer in the comfort and safety afforded by modern catamarans and the benefits of crossing oceans in them.

About panelist Ben Fletcher:

Ben hails from the landlocked state of Utah, USA. Ben embarked on his sailing journey in 2022 with no prior sailing experience but loads of YouTube education 🙂🙂🙂🙂. Determined to learn, he hired a captain in the Sea of Cortez, where he purchased his boat, for an intensive five-day training. From there, Ben and his family set sail on "S/V Best Life", their 2004 Leopard 47 catamaran, navigating the vast Pacific Ocean, Australia, Indonesia and SE Asia. Most recently they crossed the Indian Ocean, came up the Red Sea and sailed through the Suez Canal. They now spent this last season exploring the Mediterranean and are looking forward to crossing the Atlantic into the Caribbean this winter, as part of the "Finding Dory" flotilla.

About panelist/moderator Peter Casier:

I am an RYA Ocean Yachtmaster and instructor, mostly concentrating on mentoring new boat owners, and skippers/crew who have never done an ocean crossing before.
I mostly sail or race monohulls, but I did a training and regatta on a MOD70 trimaran and two years ago, I sailed as the first mate on a lovely Lagoon 450F, from South Portugal via the Canaries and Cape Verde to Grenada.
I will moderate the webinar discussions, and contribute in the panel with my combined monohull/multihull experience.

"Finding Dory", is a social community of cruisers who plan to cross the Atlantic (East-West) next winter (2025-2026 season). It is "free-to-join" adhoc group of yachties, bonded by one common goal: to cross the Atlantic safely. "Finding Dory" is organized in collaboration with "Noforeignland" (NFL). You can read about the background, purpose and setup of this group, and planned free webinars in this post on Noforeignland.

Finding Dory - Webinar 9: "Be Safe, Be Magical" - Crew prep for a transatlantic crossing

2025-10-14T10:58:00.018+01:00

For years, I have helped cruisers prepare for their first ocean crossing. Typically, they have spent some seasons sailing the boat, with their families, in the Med, Northsea or Baltic, and now want to cross the Atlantic to the Caribbean.

In preparing for their ocean passage, the most common mistake people make, is to consider a (for instance) 18 day passage, as 18x a day passage.... Day passages as they have sailed many... However, 18 days sailing on bigger waves, in constant motion, is more taxing on the boat and crew, and needs more extensive preparation. Of the boat AND the crew...!

So the 2nd most common mistake people make, is to concentrate on the preparation of the boat (boat prep is a topic we handled in a previous webinar)... Processing list upon lists of hardware upgrades/repairs, rig inspections, installation of new equipment, provisioning lists, etc... But while concentrating on these endless lists, we tend to forget that the preparation of the crew, is just as important.

Making sure both the boat AND the crew are ready for a passage, will give you more chance of enjoying the magic of sailing in the open ocean, where the closest human beings, other than some fellow sailors in your flotilla, are not the people in Cape Verde or Grenada, but the astronauts in the International Space Station, shooting overhead in the night...

So, in this webinar, we want to balance the two aspects: experiencing the magic of an open ocean passage, and the preparation of crew.

To balance these two topics, we have invited 4 guest speakers, who have done ocean passages before. In the introduction of the webinar, they will talk about their experience.

Then I will join in, and share a number of topics/points-of-thought in crew prep. In these points, I will assume you will take on some extra crew (family, friends, or "strangers"), just for the crossing. But many of these tips can also be useful if you don't have guest crew:
- How to match the expectations of the skipper with the crew?
- The role of the skipper and first mate
- Basic boat safety
- Ondeck safety for day and night sailing
- Proximity of other vessels
- Organizing watches, keeping watch
- Monitoring wear and tear on the boat
- Sufficient rest, avoiding exhaustion
- Weather predictions
- "Everything has its place on a boat"
- Use of internet (Starlink)
- Overall cost sharing agreements
- Food preparations, meals, "motherwatches"
- ...

So, join our 9th free webinar on Monday Oct 20th at 20:00 Rome time (18:00 GMT).

Our webinar will be held on “ZOOM” and consist of +- 90 minutes of guest speakers and presentation, followed by 30 minutes (or more if needed) of open Q-and-A/discussions/shared experiences amongst the participants.

Our webinars are free for all “Finding Dory” members. We will record the session and publish the link to the recording afterwards to all members of our community.

The instructions on how to join this webinar, are distributed to "Finding Dory" members only, rather than widely distributing the link via social media, mainly to avoid spammers to join in, and disturb our webinar.

So, if you want to participate in the webinars, first join the "Finding Dory" community. Via our flotilla's Whatsapp group, we will send you details for each webinar. Instructions on how to join the growing "Finding Dory" flotilla on Whatsapp, you can find in this Noforeignland blogpost.

About guest speaker Sue Sagar:

Sue Sagar is a retired Marketing, Communications and Events Manager, who grew up in Melbourne-Australia, far away from the ocean. In 2021 her husband dragged her away from family and friends to pursue an adventure which centered around water! She kicked and screamed, and found herself on Bonnie Doon, a catamaran in Greece heading for the Atlantic! Still married and a few years later they find themselves in the Caribbean with the plan to sail across the Pacific to Australia in 2026. You can follow her (and Bonny Doon's) adventures via Instagram.

About guest speaker Linda Cardew:

Linda and husband Tony departed from Cooktown, North Queensland in Australia. Over 40 years ago, they sailed 22,000 Nm as crew from the Pacific across the Indian Ocean, south Atlantic to the Caribbean and up to Nantucket USA.
As of August 2022, they started a circumnavigation on their own boat, "S/V Paroo", and are currently in Spain after, once more, a 22,000 Nm crossing from the Indian Ocean, around South Africa, via Namibia and Ascension Island, and intentionally the “wrong way” north up the South and North Atlantic Ocean, to Cape Verde, the Canaries and into the Med.
After overdosing on the fine foods of some beautiful Mediterranean countries, they are now heading for an Atlantic crossing to the Caribbean and will be heading through Panama to Costa Rica by March 2026.
Their motto is “(Wo)Man Plans, and the Gods Laugh”.

About guest speaker Jillian Greenawalt:

Jillian lives and sails aboard a 1972 Bowman 46, "S/V Mug Up", with her husband and 3 kids.
Over the past 4 years, they've sailed the US East Coast, Caribbean, and the Med. They also did a W-E transat in 2024.
In this webinar, Jillian will share how experience on how to make the trip also magical for the kids on your boat.

About webinar moderator Peter Casier:

I am the "house keeper" for the "Finding Dory" flotilla community and will moderate this webinar

If not cruising, on open passages or sailing in a regatta, most of my time is dedicated in mentoring or training others: People new to sailing, new boat owners, or cruisers preparing for their first open ocean passage...

"Finding Dory", is a social community of cruisers who plan to cross the Atlantic (East-West) next winter (2025-2026 season). It is "free-to-join" adhoc group of yachties, bonded by one common goal: to cross the Atlantic safely. "Finding Dory" is organized in collaboration with "Noforeignland" (NFL). You can read about the background, purpose and setup of this group, and planned free webinars in this post on Noforeignland.

Finding Dory - Webinar 8: Fishing while on a Transatlantic passage

2025-10-07T10:05:00.002+01:00

Many cruisers trawl a fishing line behind their boat. But I have to admit, that "fishing while on passage" has never been my forte... It looks like fishing in an open ocean, on a yacht under sail is a combination of a science, an art, experience and a bit of luck. I lack all of the above :-)

But many cruisers are successful and reel in fresh fish every other day, converting their catch into sushi, sashimi, steaks, curry stews and soups. (and I am getting hungry as I write this)

One of the people who has been successful in fishing - both as a sport fisherman, a fishing expedition guide and a cruiser, is Tony Orton, our next presenter.

In our next webinar, Tony will share his secrets with us:

- Type of fish to catch/eat.
- Hand lines vs rod and reel.
- line capacity, drag settings on reels and rod choice.
- Fighting a fish while under sail, techniques, vessel placement.
- Lure selection.
- Rigging trolling lures.
- Safety while handling fish.
- Care for your catch and preparing the fish for consumption with limited means.
- ...

So, join our 8th free webinar on Monday Oct 13th at 20:00 Rome time (18:00 GMT).

Our webinar will be held on “ZOOM” and consist of +- 60 minutes of presentation, followed by 30 minutes (or more if needed) of open Q-and-A/discussions/shared experiences amongst the participants.

Our webinars are free for all “Finding Dory” members. We will record the session and publish the link to the recording afterwards to all members of our community.

The instructions on how to join this webinar, are distributed to "Finding Dory" members only, rather than widely distributing the link via social media, mainly to avoid spammers to join in, and disturb our webinar.

So, if you want to participate in the webinars, first join the "Finding Dory" community. Via our flotilla's Whatsapp group, we will send you details for each webinar. Instructions on how to join the growing "Finding Dory" flotilla on Whatsapp, you can find in this Noforeignland blogpost.

About Tony Orton:

Tony is the presenter in this webinar. He has been a professional international sportfishing captain for over 23 years. With over 200,000 sea and ocean miles he has sailed, fished and guided in the Pacific, Atlantic and Indian oceans.
Currently, Tony and his family are doing a circumnavigation on their sailing catamaran “IKIGAI” and at present are sailing and fishing up the West coast of Central America.
Tony is a sponsored fisherman and works along side with world leading tackle companies like Shimano and has done regular videos and seminars on different fishing techniques in many aspects of fishing. Check out his Instagram!

About Peter Casier:

I am the "house keeper" for the "Finding Dory" flotilla community and will moderate this webinar

If not cruising, on open passages or sailing in a regatta myself, most of my time is dedicated in mentoring or training others: People new to sailing, new boat owners, or cruisers preparing for their first open ocean passage...

"Finding Dory", is a social community of cruisers who plan to cross the Atlantic (East-West) next winter (2025-2026 season). It is "free-to-join" adhoc group of yachties, bonded by one common goal: to cross the Atlantic safely. "Finding Dory" is organized in collaboration with "Noforeignland" (NFL). You can read about the background, purpose and setup of this group, and planned free webinars in this post on Noforeignland.

Finding Dory - Webinar 7: A transatlantic pit-stop in Cape Verde. Or Not?

2025-09-23T11:29:00.002+01:00

"Finding Dory", is a social community of cruisers who plan to cross the Atlantic (East-West) next winter (2025-2026 season). It is "free-to-join" adhoc group of yachties, bonded by one common goal: to cross the Atlantic safely. "Finding Dory" is organized in collaboration with "Noforeignland" (NFL). You can read about the background, purpose and setup of this group, and planned free webinars in this post on Noforeignland.

As an almost full-time sailor, I did six East-West transatlantic trips in the past years. For five of those, we had a pit-stop in Cape Verde (CV). And I have grown fond of crossing the Atlantic this way: Four-five days to sail from southern Europe to the Canaries. Pause. Another five-six days to Cape Verde. Pause. And then the big transat hop. Party!..

In this webinar, I want to share my experience in following this route, and why I like the "CV pitstop". Mind you, I only have experience in visiting two of the 10 larger CV islands: "Sao Vicente" (with Mindelo as its main port and the only marina in CV), and neighbouring "Sao Antao". But those are also the most popular pit-stops for transat cruisers.

I know the approach (and its challenges) to these two islands pretty well by now (including a tricky night approach to Mindelo, without any working instruments on board). I think I moored at every pontoon of the marina by now and anchored in different spots in the large bay off Mindelo. I toured most of Sao Vicente and San Antao. And visited most restaurants, bars, and pharmacies. I shopped for electrical plugs, fridge cooling elements, fresh tomatoes and spare halyards. And have used most of the available marine technicians :-) ...

So, it is time to dive through some of these details, so you can make up your mind, if a Cape Verde pit-stop is something for you! So, join our 7th free webinar on Monday Sept 29th at 20:00 Rome time (18:00 GMT).

Our webinar will be held on “ZOOM” and consist of +- 60 minutes of presentation, followed by 30 minutes (or more if needed) of open Q-and-A/discussions/shared experiences amongst the participants.

Our webinars are free for all “Finding Dory” members. We will record the session and publish the link to the recording afterwards to all members of our community.

The instructions on how to join this webinar, are distributed to "Finding Dory" members only, rather than widely distributing the link via social media, mainly to avoid spammers to join in, and disturb our webinar.

So, if you want to participate in the webinars, first join the "Finding Dory" community. Via our flotilla's Whatsapp group, we will send you details for each webinar. Instructions on how to join the growing "Finding Dory" flotilla on Whatsapp, you can find in this Noforeignland blogpost.

About Peter:

I am the "house keeper" for the "Finding Dory" flotilla community.

I like both "slow" and "fast" sailing.
I love to hang out in a protected Greek anchorage for a couple of days, but also like to skim the sea-surface while planing at 35 knots on an open ocean semi-foiling trimaran in Bretagne.
I like lake-sailing near Geneva on a small skiff, but also get my thrills being part of a 16-person crew, sailing a big monster, off the coast of Antigua...

Finding Dory - Webinar 6: Transatlantic insurance for your yacht

2025-09-14T11:37:00.000+01:00

"Finding Dory", is a social community of cruisers who plan to cross the Atlantic (East-West) next winter (2025-2026 season). It is unique "free-to-join" and "contribute-to-the-group-as-you-wish" ad-hoc group of yachties, bonded by one common goal: to cross the Atlantic safely, and making it a unique and enjoyable experience for all.
"Finding Dory IV" ("IV" as this is the 4th year we aggregate a fleet of "ad hoc cruisers" crossing the Atlantic in the same season), is organized in collaboration with Helena and Steve from "Noforeignland" (NFL). You can read about the background, purpose and setup of this group, and our planned free webinars in this post on Noforeignland - which will also guide you how to join this Whatsapp-based community - and how to participate in our webinars.

Sailing any open ocean crossing is -in my book- a balance between "Hoping for the best", but "Planning for the worst". In each of my past 14 open ocean crossings, we had hundreds of boats crossing safely with us. But unfortunately, in each of these crossing, there were one or more critical incidents with fellow cruisers. Some of those needed external assistance during or after the incident. Ensuring your yacht and crew are well-covered for the possible expenses and support/assistance incurred due to those incidents, is part of the "good practices", for any skipper. Proper insurance coverage is critical...

So, time to dive into the details of what insurance companies can offer, and how we can cover our yacht and crew in a cost-efficient way. That is the topic of our 6th (free) webinar on Sept 22th at 08:00 AM Rome time (06:00 AM GMT).

In this webinar, Michaela Claes from Pantaenius, will share her experience, and passion, to help us across the Atlantic safely.

Michaela will talk through the essentials of yacht insurance, covering everything from basic third-party policies to full comprehensive coverage. She’ll explore key factors influencing insurance costs and coverage, as well as special considerations for ocean passages like transatlantic crossings and Caribbean cruising.
Attendees will gain valuable insights into typical coverage options, safety recommendations, and how to navigate risks during long voyages.
Whether you’re planning an ocean crossing or want to better understand your yacht’s insurance, this webinar will provide important information to help protect your vessel and crew.

Our webinar will be held on “ZOOM” and consist of +- 60 minutes of presentation, followed by 30 minutes (or more if needed) of open Q-and-A/discussions/shared experiences amongst the participants.

Our webinars are free for all “Finding Dory” members. We will record the session and publish the link to the recording afterwards to all members of our community.

The instructions on how to join this webinar, are distributed to "Finding Dory" members only, rather than widely distributing the link via social media, mainly to avoid spammers to join in, and disturb our webinar.

So, if you want to participate in the webinars, first join the "Finding Dory" community. Via our flotilla's Whatsapp group, we will send you details for each webinar. Instructions on how to join the growing "Finding Dory" flotilla on Whatsapp, you can find in this Noforeignland blogpost.

About Michaela:

Michaela Claes is the Operations Manager at Pantaenius Australia, bringing over a decade of experience and a lot of energy to the role. Originally from a small village near Muenster, Germany, she moved to Australia in 2003 and joined the marine industry in 2012.
A former semi-pro show jumper, Michaela credits the sport for teaching her resilience and focus—traits that have served her well in the pleasure craft insurance world. She's passionate about supporting yacht owners globally and loves sharing practical insights on claims, prevention, and how insurers can better support their clients.

About Peter:

As the "concierge" for the "Finding Dory" flotilla community, I will be moderating this webinar. In the 1970-ies, the French actor Jean Gabin, made a song, in which he explained that when he was 20, he thought he knew everything. In his thirties, he started to doubt that. And when he was 60, he knew only one thing: "one never knows everything" - "On sait jamais"... "On sait jamais" is the stage of life I am in right now. I still learn every day. But what I am committed to do, is to share what I have learned in my past 50,000 open ocean sea miles, with fellow cruisers. That is my current passion.

Finding Dory - Webinar 5: Introducing "NoForeignLand" (NFL)

2025-09-03T09:16:00.001+01:00

Intro

NFL as a "destination guide"

NFL yacht tracking

Meeting other boaters

Questions and Answers from the participants

Our webinar will be held on “ZOOM” and consist of +- 60 minutes of presentation, followed by 30 minutes (or more if needed) of open Q-and-A/discussions/shared experiences amongst the participants.

Our webinars are free for all “Finding Dory” members. We will record the session and publish the link to the recording afterwards to all members of our community.

The instructions on how to join this webinar, are distributed to "Finding Dory" members only, rather than widely distributing the link via social media, mainly to avoid spammers to join in, and disturb our webinar.

So, if you want to participate in the webinars, first join the "Finding Dory" community. Via our flotilla's Whatsapp group, we will send you details for each webinar. Instructions on how to join the growing "Finding Dory" flotilla on Whatsapp, you can find in this Noforeignland blogpost.

About Steve:

Shortly after retiring from a career in software development, Steve and his wife Helena, founded Noforeignland in 2017 as a fun project for sailing friends to use.
Since then it has grown to be one of the most widely used platforms for sharing sailing destination information and for meeting and staying in touch with friends on the move.
As full time liveaboards, Steve and Helena have sailed their boat extensively in the Mediterranean and the Caribbean. They spend all of their free time maintaining and adding new features to their app and website.

About Peter:

As the "house keeper" for the "Finding Dory" flotilla community, I will be moderating this webinar. Growing up at the Belgian sea coast, I have always spent my holidays and weekends on the water, but in sailing, I was a late-bloomer... I only picked sailing when I was 40, but it was quite a "fast track" since then. At this moment, I cruise, teach, crew, mentor and race quasi full-time.

Finding Dory - Webinar 4: Weather routing for an East-West Atlantic crossing

2025-08-28T10:24:00.003+01:00

Introduction to the Trade Winds

Weather Models and Weather Apps: understanding their strengths and limitations

Weather FAQ - clarifying common misconceptions about weather and forecasting:

Trip Planning:

Dr Julia Andrys has worked in weather research and forecasting since 2012. Julia’s work and research focuses on long range weather forecasting and climate modelling, in the application of weather and climate data across other research fields, including agriculture, forestry, and renewable energy. She has extensive experience in high performance computing, utilising supercomputers to deliver high resolution weather forecasting and climate data. A significant portion of this work involves the testing and optimisation of weather models. As such, Julia has a deep understanding of the strengths and weaknesses of the many weather models used by the sailing community.
Julia and her family have been fulltime liveaboard cruisers since 2016, sailing well over 20,000 Nm and visiting 25 countries (check out their journey so far on NoForeignLand by searching for the boat name Mila). Julia loves to share her knowledge of climatology and meteorology with fellow cruisers, providing education, training, and offshore weather routing advice to anyone with the time to listen.

About Peter:

I will be the moderator for this webinar, as part of my role as "house keeper" for the "Finding Dory" flotilla community. I love both fast and slow sailing. I like staring at the stars during a quiet night in the middle of the ocean, but also like the spray hit my face while racing at 20 knots... As a retired UN staff, I now spend most of my time, in mentoring or training sailors.

Announcing Finding Dory - Webinar 3: Sailing safely through "orca territory"

2025-08-11T12:36:00.003+01:00

"Finding Dory", is a social community of cruisers who plan to cross the Atlantic (East-West) next winter (2025-2026 season). It is "free-to-join" and "contribute-as-you-wish" group of yachties, bonded by one common goal: to cross the Atlantic safely. "Finding Dory" is organized in collaboration with Helena and Steve from "Noforeignland". You can read about the background, purpose and setup of this group, and planned free webinars in this post on Noforeignland - which will also guide you how to join this Whatsapp-based community.

So,... we are ready to kick off our third free webinar on August 26 at 20:00 Rome time, 18:00 GMT. This time we will tackle a common challenge many of us will face, as we are sailing from Northern Europe or from the Med towards the Canaries as we are preparing to cross the Atlantic:
We will all pass areas where in the past years, there have been multiple interactions between different orca pods and sailboats, in the the Bay of Biscay, on the West and South coasts of Spain and Portugal, and around the Gibraltar Straight.

Several of these interactions have resulted in significant damage to the yachts' rudder, rudder shaft and hulls. On some occasions this resulted in the yacht being disabled, and there have been occurences where the yacht sank.

Since a number of years, the "go-to" place for cruisers to get up-to-date information and guidance has been "orcas.pt", a citizen-funded and crowd-source initiative, sustained by the very community it serves: sailors, maritime enthusiasts, and concerned individuals who recognize the urgency of this situation. It is a free, volunteer-driven platform dedicated to providing real-time assistance and crucial information to help sailors navigate safely in orca activity areas.

"orcas.pt" is coordinated by Rui Alves. Rui not only maintains and updates the website, but he also coordinates several Telegram chat groups, assisting cruisers as they pass through "orca territory", all on a benevolent and volunteering basis. In some occasions, Rui also assisted cruisers who had sustained damage due to orca interactions.

Rui graciously volunteered to join us in our next webinar to introduce the "orcas.pt" platform and its chat channels. Based on his years-long experience in coordinating this community, he will also share the key "do's" and "don't's" in avoiding the orca hotspots, but also, what to do and what not to do, if - in the worst case scenario - you encounter an orca pod.

I have sailed through the orca hotspots several times in the past years, and personally, I found the "orcas.pt" information and community, SUPER helpful. Actually, last year, in the Bay of Biscay, we had an orca pod swimming towards our boat, dive under it, and - luckily - continued on their merry way without interacting with our boat. But I can tell you, we were sitting on the edge of our seats for a few minutes!

Our webinar will be held on “ZOOM” and consist of +- 60 minutes of presentation, followed by 30 minutes (or more if needed) of open Q-and-A/discussions/shared experiences amongst the participants.

Our webinars are free for all “Finding Dory” members. We will record the session and publish the link to the recording afterwards to all members of our community.

The instructions on how to join this webinar, are distributed to "Finding Dory" members only, rather than widely distributing the link via social media, mainly to avoid spammers to join in, and disturb our webinar.

So, if you want to join in for the webinars, first join the "Finding Dory" community, and via our Whatsapp group, we will send you details on how to join each webinar. Instructions on how to join the growing "Finding Dory" flotilla on Whatsapp, you can find in this Noforeignland blogpost.

About Rui:

My name is Rui Alves, and I love sailing since I was a young kid. I am the creator of orcas.pt, a project born from a deep personal concern: Observing the rising number of interactions between orcas and sailing vessels along the coasts of Portugal and Spain, I felt compelled to take action, not just for the safety of sailors, but also for the well-being of Iberian orcas.

About Peter:

I will be the moderator for this webinar, as part of my role as "house keeper" for the "Finding Dory" flotilla community. I grew up on the coast of the Northsea, and spent most of my childhood holidays on the water. My mum says I don't have blood but rather have "salt water" running through my veins. :-) As part of my pro-bono work, giving back to the sailing community, I train "newbies to yacht sailing", and mentor more experienced sailors who are new boat-owners or first-time open ocean crossers.

Top picture courtesy of orcas.pt.

"Pan-Pan" in the middle of the Atlantic

2025-08-10T12:16:00.003+01:00

Date: January 26, 2025.
Our position: Halfway between Cape Verde and Grenada, mid Atlantic

We are crossing the Atlantic on a 46ft monohull sailboat.
This is my second crossing this season, and I'm on a final sprint: Over the past 5 months, I had done (at that point) 9,000 nautical miles (or +- 17,000 km) of open ocean passages. And with (only) 1,000 miles to go before we reach Grenada in the Caribbean, I am really looking forward to be on "terra firma" for a while.

We are crossing the Atlantic in a flotilla of about 20 boats, called the Vikings Explorers. We left Las Palmas in the Canaries early January, spent a week together in Mindelo-Cape Verde, after which the whole fleet left for our next and final stop: the Spice Island of Grenada, in the Caribbean. Yay!

As most of the boats in our flotilla have a Starlink internet connection, we all chat regularly on our "Vikings" whatsapp group, exchanging pleasantries, pictures from life aboard, weather/sea state reports, and occasional reports of issues on our boats.

On January 26th, "S", skipper on one of our flotilla boats reported on our Whatsapp group he received a "strange" chat message on the Noforeignland app, from "N", the skipper of sailing vessel "D". Onboard "D" was a young Turkish couple with two kids onboard, who had met up with "S" in Morocco, several months ago. The sailing yacht "D" was not part of our flotilla, but were crossing the Atlantic by themselves, and got into some trouble, about 700 miles off Barbados.

The chat message "S" received was something like this:

"Dear S, we met in Morocco some months ago, and via Noforeignland, we can see you are not very far from us, crossing the Atlantic too. Two days ago, we started to have a problem on our boat. Two of our sidestays (Ed: the steel cables holding up the mast), snapped and our mast started to move a lot. We took down the sails, and we are now motoring. But we have only limited fuel on board. We are not sure how to secure the mast. For the past two days, we called a "pan-pan" on VHF radio, but we had no response. We are not experienced ocean sailors, and we need help. Our position is xxx yyy, our Whatsapp telephone number is xxxxx".

So "S", part of our flotilla, forwarded the summary of the message on our flotilla Whatsapp group, and this is how several of us got involved.

A year earlier, crossing the Atlantic in the ARC+ flotilla, we witnessed how "Hilma" (in the picture above), one of our fellow ARC+ transat crossers, had lost their mast due to a structural failure, three days out of Mindelo. At that time, several other boats from our ARC+ flotilla came to their rescue, transfering jerry-cans of extra fuel, so Hilma could motor against the prevailing winds and waves, back to Mindelo. A different story, but cutting the story short, Hilma made it safely back to Mindelo, later on, motored from Mindelo back to the Canaries, had a major repair done, and sailed across the Atlantic a year later.
So, while I was not directly involved in that incident, I "witnessed" it via the ARC+ Whatsapp group, and saw how incidents like these were quite traumatic for the crew and potentially dangerous for all involved.

Back to our story of "N", the skipper of sailing vessel "D".

I contacted "N" via their whatsapp telephone number, which they had passed on "S". My first message was something like this:

Hi sailing vessel "D", I am Peter, aboard sailing vessel "M", part of the Vikings Explorers. You sent a message to "S" who is part of our flotilla, saying you have a problem and need help. Can you give me details of your problems, your current position and how we can assist?

Their response was almost immediate:
Hi Peter, I am "N", the skipper. I have my wife and two kids on board. Two days ago, we had a major problem on our boat, and two of our side stays snapped. We took the sails down, but the mast is moving a lot. Our position is xxx yyy, and we are motoring. But we fear the mast can come down at any time. We do not have enough fuel to motor to the Caribbean, still 700 miles away. We gave repeated pan-pans on the VHF radio for the past two days, but had no response. So I resorted to try and contact other boats via the Noforeignland chat function. We are not sure what to do, at this point. We are thinking of abandoning ship, and get into the liferaft. We are not sure who to contact for help, at this point

They sent me some pictures and video from their rigging issues too...

As abandoning a perfectly solid boat, with no imminent danger of sinking, even if the boat has issues with the mast, is never a good option, I decided to give "N" a phone call. During the call, it was clear they were not really experienced ocean sailors, were quite exhausted at this point, and close to panicing

I relayed my conversation with "N" to our flotilla. One boat in our flotilla was about one-two days sailing from "N", and offered to give them extra fuel. But, a year earlier, with Hilma, having witnessed how tricky it is to transfer jerrycans of fuel from one sailboat to another, I did not feel comfortable with that solution.

It seemed that the priority would be for "D" to secure their mast. Several boats in our flotilla, via our Whatsapp group, exchanged information on how to use extra ropes and the main halyard, to secure the mast, which -clearly- was the main priority. All of the information was passed on to "N", who followed our advice, and sent me pictures how they jury-rigged their mast, which seemed more stable now.

In the same flurry of messages, the "Vikings Explorers" coordinators, Carlota and Oliver, passed on the telephone numbers of the Barbados and Martinique MRCC (Sea rescue centres), who would be able to assist. I passed those on to "N".

I had another phone call with "N", and there was clearly less panic in his voice now. He asked advice how to get extra fuel so he could motor the remaining 700 miles to Barbados. He would need an extra 150 liters of fuel.

In came "J", the skipper of an other yacht in our flotilla. "J" and I had a Whatsapp call. "J" was very level-headed and pragmatic. We agreed that the best option was to call the Barbados MRCC (Sea rescue center), inform them of the pan-pan, and ask for their advice.

And that is exactly what "J" did. He relayed the situation, the GPS position of "N", and their Whatsapp contact number. So, from then on all seemed to be in the hands of the Barbados MRCC.

I had several chat exchanges with "N", informing him the Barbados MRCC would contact him, and propose a plan.

But meanwhile, the fuel situation on "N" got critical, and they shut down their engine, to save fuel, which also meant their batteries did not get recharged. To save battery power, they also switched off their VHF and Starlink. So,... a few hours later the Barbados MRCC informed us they had problems to contact "N", and made it difficult for them to coordinate any rescue actions needed.

What followed was a flash of exchanges between "N", "J" and me, in which I explained to "N" that the Barbados MRCC was trying to contact them, so they had to monitor their incoming calls on Starlink, to coordinate with the Barbados MRCC directly.

Which "N" did. Barbados MRCC said they were diverting a cargo ship to drop of extra fuel for them. Good news.

But.. in an effort to safe fuel and battery power, "N" decided to switch off his VHF and Starlink once again, and a few hours later, "J" was informed by the Barbados MRCC, that they had diverted a cargo ship to the last known position of "N", but the cargo ship had not been able to raise them on VHF or Starlink and could not see them on AIS neither, so the cargo vessel continued on its course. Bummer. A missed chance for "N"'s rescue

Eventually, I got hold of "N" again, several hours later, and advised him not to switch off VHF nor Starlink, as he had just missed one cargo vessel coming to his rescue. He could not miss the next chance of rescue. He agreed, and from then on, kept his communications tools powered up.

Several hours later, we got a message from "N" that Barbados MRCC contacted him, as they had diverted yet another cargo vessel to his location, to drop fuel.

Some hours later, we received another message from "N" that indeed a cargo vessel had met up with them, created a "lee", for them to come along side, and the cargo vessel had dropped several jerry cans of diesel, enough for them to continue motoring all the way to Barbados. He sent me some pictures as the cargo ship approached them, and of the jerrycans of extra fuel they had transferred to them.

We kept following "N" for the next days, up to the point they safely anchored in Barbados a week later, had their rigging problems resolved, and continued for a happy cruising season in the Caribbean..

Some lessons-learned out of all of this:

Don't panic. As long as your vessel is sound and floating, don't even think of stepping into a life raft. The generic advice is: "Don't step down into a liferaft. You will only need to abandon ship, if you need to step up into a liferaft" - hard as it may sound.

For any ocean crossing, have a list of emergency telephone numbers for the coastal MRCC stations covering your area.

Ensure you have long-range full-proof communications onboard (internet or telephone, Starlink or Iridium/InReach) to communicate via voice or Whatsapp

Ocean passages are very demanding on your vessel. Have a thorough standing rigging inspection done before you embark on any long distance crossing

Don't cross an ocean "alone". Link up with other fellow cruisers who are crossing around the same time. Link up with them, and create "a community" (and Whatsapp group) with them, so you can look after each other . If things go wrong, that community will help you.

With a thanks to all involved, especially the Barbados MRCC (who were super professional and effective) and the cargo vessel which came to "D"'s rescue.

Don't just prepare the boat, but also prepare yourself for an ocean crossing

2025-08-08T12:05:00.000+01:00

Guest post by Sue Sagar

Last winter, in the middle of the Atlantic, I found asking myself "why did I sign up for this?"... This led me to think deeply about how we spent so much time focusing on getting the boat ready to cross an ocean and very little time on preparing ourselves physically and mentally. And I published an Instagram post on this topic.

By now that simple Instagram post has over 2 million views: it is a "tongue in cheek", light-hearted look at how to prepare in your home before you even move on board: Things like, don’t walk around your house unless you have one hand to hold on to a wall or fixture at all times, even crawl sometimes; run hard into the corners of your benches until you have a bruise count of 5 or higher; get someone to slide your plates across the table as you try to put food on them (remember you can only do this one-handed!); set an alarm for every few hours overnight, and then get up and stare at numbers on a navigation screen for at least 3 hours during your shift; ...and by all means, don’t leave the house for 17 days, not for any reason... ;-)

Little did I know this Instagram post would hit a nerve with so many people, hence I wanted to put down my thoughts in this blogpost.

From the day we chose to join the Viking Explorers Rally and cross the Atlantic, our minds were constantly working on "our lists". We had lists for ‘what equipment to buy’, ‘what to fix’, ‘first aid and safety’, and the ‘provisioning lists’, all of which we worked through meticulously. I’m sure all past transatlantic crossers know what I am talking about. The lists seemed endless. Trying to guess what will break, and the correct spare parts required... How much food did we'd need, not only for the crossing, but anticipating the prices in the Caribbean and planning well ahead... It all took a lot of thought. And a lot of time...

What I didn’t anticipate was the mental and physical difficulty I would experience during the crossing. A crew member on another vessel in our Viking Explorers fotilla, who had crossed the Atlantic East-West five times before, said somewhere along the trip that our crossing was one of the most uncomfortable he had ever done.... And that counts for something...

Please know that I am not trying to scare you here. In fact, I was never scared. "Anxious" yes, anxious of what might break, but never did I fear for my life. I just think that if I had taken the time to think more about how *I* would mentally and physically respond, I might have taken the time to stop and enjoy these moments, during the crossing, more and differently.

A fellow sailor and I gave each other a teary hug as we were about to set off to Grenada from Mindelo in Cape Verde. I said to her, "ít’s ok, we’ve got this” but little did I know what "this" was! Our crossing was predicted to have consistent wind but with some cross swell at short intervals.

Not being much of a sailor, I really didn’t know what this meant, but the reality was that rather than a big gentle following sea, we also had side waves which slapped against the hull, pushing the boat in a strange rocking motion. Yes, we were on a catamaran, hence the hull slapping, but fellow monohull owners will tell you that the motion made their lifes difficult too. They were sleeping wedged under tables on the floor, and catching things which came flying out every time they opened the cupboards.

If you are on a catamaran and haven’t experienced big seas for a sustained period of time, as I hadn’t, be prepared for the hull noise. It’s not all the time, but when it hits, it is like someone is hitting the hull with a sledge hammer. The noise is incredible. They say the boat can cope with more than we can, and in my case this was soooo true. Youtube videos really don’t show this reality, or at least I hadn’t heard the actual noise nor felt it, so it was quite a shock. This, along with the noise of the water rushing along the hulls and, in my case the autopilot constantly running, behind my bed, was overwhelming at times.

Then there is the constant movement. Yes, I know we all live on a boat and it is always moving, but on our crossing, it was so relentless. You couldn’t take one step without holding on, let alone cook, make coffee, shower and sleep! I anticipated there would be calm days, where we could swim in 5000m of water, relax and actually hope for more wind. Just like on the Youtube videos I watched before the crossing! But this wasn’t the case for us.

I’m not saying that I expected it to be all smooth sailing, but there was no reprieve. I had planned to bake, do daily stretches, keep the crew active with yoga, play games and puzzles etc, but for me, it was a struggle even just to get from the cabin to the galley. None of what I had planned to do during the crossing, actually happened, and this was so disappointing to me.

Even with all the seasick remedies in the world, I still struggled with nausea. I was never physically sick but it was a continuous battle. --Yes, at this point, you might ask what I was even doing out there!-- During our crossing some fellow die-hard sailors in our flotilla said they felt the same, so be prepared. And some of your crew might suffer too, and this adds another dimension: the challenge to have one (or more) fellow crew members down.

Overall I was overstimulated: the noise, the movement and the nausea, was something I could not control.

You should know that not all participants in our flotilla felt the same as me. But many did and we shared our thoughts constantly during the crossing, over a Whatsapp group. Indeed some embraced the challenge and fully enjoyed it. Hopefully this will be you. But if not, and if you find the Atlantic crossing challenging, like me, know that you are not a failure. That you haven’t let yourself or the crew down. You might, simply..., have found your limits and you are just.... challenged by them. Know, though, that this ordeal will end, eventually, and that these thoughts and feelings are normal!

My mind and body kept screaming at me to make it stop. Of course it couldn’t and it was hard for my husband and our crew to see me "not coping". Looking back, I wish I had been able to breath and appreciate this extra-ordinary thing I was doing. Even once we arrived in the Caribbean, it took me a long while to really appreciate the enormity, of crossing an ocean. I should have been kinder to myself, but "in the moment", I just felt so... inadequate. I wish that someone had sat me down and explained this to me before we left. Although I would have said that "I'll be fine, I’m tough", but I wish I had known that feeling this way, was normal. And that it was ok.... That would have been a huge comfort to me. Hence me sharing my experience with you now.

So what do I suggest? Before you depart, stop and think about how you will react when you are overstimulated, and feeling "on the edge". What tools do you have to help you relax and make sure you feel comfortable sharing how you are feeling with the crew.
Create a Whatsapp group with other transat-ers, who feel challenged too. We did this, in addition to the Viking Rally Whatsapp group, a smaller group which originally started as "Provisioning Tips and Tricks to share", but during the passage, it became "SSaSSY" ("Scared S**tless and Still Sailing Yachts"). We shared daily memes and quotes and supported each other on a more personal level.

I’m sure that you will each have your own personal experience. Please know that you are doing something amazing, and it is all worth it! And the Caribbean *is* wonderful! :-)

I’ll finish with a quote from Peter, the sailor in our group who was completing his 14th open ocean crossing. And I wish I had read this and reflected on it before the crossing... But I was too focused on other things (the darned "boat lists"!):
You are about to cross the Atlantic. It will be tough. You will lack sleep. The environment will be harsh. You might get sick or highly uncomfortable. You will at times come to thoughts of, ‘why did I decide to do this?'
But unless, in the midst of the hard times, you stop for a moment, look around you, and take in where you are and the extra-ordinary thing you are doing at that very moment, it will all be over before you know it. And when it is over, unless you stopped to enjoy the pain and hardship, for ever you will regret you did not enjoy that moment of "extra ordinary", and that you are doing this with the few other people in the world who are also privileged to share this adventure and experience this. So enjoy the moment, no matter how tough it is, enjoy the extra ordinary adventure you are embarking on.

And if you jump ship, make it a jump of joy, AFTER your transatlantic crossing, as we did, in Grenada!

Fair winds to all sailors about to cross the Atlantic in the next season...

Announcing Finding Dory - Webinar 2: Food/Medical Provisioning and Passage Nutrition

2025-07-29T12:48:00.001+01:00

In collaboration with Helena and Steve from "Noforeignland", I have the pleasure and honour to coordinate/administrate "Finding Dory", a social community of cruisers who plan to cross the Atlantic (East-West) next winter (2025-2026 season).

You can read about the background, purpose and setup of this group, and planned webinars in this post on Noforeignland - which will also guide you how to join this Whatsapp-based community.

So,... we are ready to kick off our second free webinar on August 11 (20:00 Rome time, 18:00 GMT). And I am SUPER-thrilled to have two formidable ladies presenting this webinar on food and medical supplies provisioning, and overall passage nutrition. A well-fed crew is a happy crew. And likewise, a healthy crew, is a happy crew too. And Carlota and Sarah will help you, to keep your crew happy, I can assure you!

While our first webinar was more of an overall introduction to "boat and crew preparation", we are now ready, with the next webinars, to dive "into the deep", discussing specific topics in depth.

Carlota, based on her extensive experience, will cover:

FIRST AID KIT:

Maintenance, storage and things to remember.

Content of the kit divided in medical supplies and medicines for each need.

FOOD PROVISIONING:

Fresh Produce Guide

Boat pantry divided in each group of food (f.e cans, dry goods…)

Storage of fresh produce and cans

Pest proofing

Using fridge and freezers

Using a high-pressure cooker

Waste management at sea

Then, Sarah will join in:

With her nutrionist's background and experience, in keeping even the most competitive regatta crews well-fed in longer passages, she will give us a absolute unique perspective on the importance of "quality and well-balanced nutrition":

Rethinking Provisioning: Why "Food as Fuel" for a crossing

What your body really needs for an ocean crossing and how to make it happen inspite of the confines of a sailboat galley

Small Vegan Kitchen’s Atlantic staples: Smart, Flexible, Minimal

Easy, high-performance meal ideas (One-pot, No-waste, Feel-Good)

This webinar will be held on “ZOOM” and consist of +- 60 minutes of presentation, followed by 30 minutes (or more if needed) of open Q-and-A/discussions/shared experiences amongst the participants.

Our webinars are free for all “Finding Dory” members. We will record the session and publish the link to the recording afterwards to all members.

The instructions on how to join this webinar, are distributed to "Finding Dory" members only, rather than widely distributing the link via social media, mainly to avoid spammers to join in, and disturb our webinar.

So, if you want to join in for the webinars, first join the "Finding Dory" community, and via our Whatsapp group, we will send you details on how to join each webinar. Instructions on how to join the growing "Finding Dory" flotilla on Whatsapp, you can find in this Noforeignland blogpost.

About Carlota:

Carlota Texeira is a sailor and cruiser. She has crossed the Atlantic and lived in the Caribbean for six years. Based in Gran Canaria, Carlota has been supporting transatlantic sailors for the past nine years with her local knowledge and experience. She is one of the organizers of the Viking Explorers Rally, a transatlantic event that departs every January since 2018. She also runs Nautical Essentials, a company dedicated to assisting yachts with everything they need before setting sail across the Atlantic, from logistics and provisioning to local support and last-minute solutions. Carlota is also featured and recommended in the "Superyacht Services Guide", a trusted resource in the global yachting industry.

About Sarah:

Sarah Powell-Fowler is a plant-based nutrition advocate, certified coach, and full-time sailor living aboard a 41-foot sailboat with her family. From her blog Small Vegan Kitchen, she creates practical, nutrient-rich meals for cruisers and high-performance superyacht teams alike. Author of No Eggs No Worries, a guide to plant-based alternatives for traditional egg recipes, she leads provisioning workshops, contributes to publications like Noonsite, The Cruising Association, Practical Sailor, and NZ Yachting and Boating, and shares her food-as-fuel philosophy on sailing and wellness podcasts. Her mission? To show that even in the most compact galleys, and for high-performance regatta crew, food can be delicious, healthy, and powerfully supportive of life at sea.

About Peter:

I will only be the moderator for this webinar, as part of my role as "administrator" for the "Finding Dory" flotilla. Since I retired from my job in the UN, I am a quasi full-time instructor-mentor-trainer supporting fellow cruisers and new boat owners. I am also a regatta sailor on "bigger" boats.

Announcing our first "Finding Dory" transat webinar: "The Basic Checklist For an Ocean Passage".

2025-07-13T13:50:00.002+01:00

I have the pleasure and honour to coordinate/administrate "Finding Dory", a social community of cruisers who plan to cross the Atlantic (East-West) next winter (2025-2026 season), in collaboration with Helena and Steve from "Noforeignland".

This is the 4th time/season we "organize" and support a flottila of cruisers crossing the Atlantic East-West. This season, we're organizing the group early on, in the season, and also, in collaboration with "Noforeignland" and several experts supporting our initiative, present several webinars to assist the aspiring "transat-ers" in preparing their boat, and crew, for a safe passage.

You can read about the background, purpose and setup of this group, and planned webinars in this post on Noforeignland - which will also point you how to join this Whatsapp-based community.

We are ready to kick off our first webinar, in a series of several webinars, on July 22nd. This first introductory webinar will cover “the basic checklist for an ocean passage”. (from boat prep, to crew selection, food management, weather routing, safety, comms, watch systems etc…).

We will “touch” different topics at an “introductory” level, without yet going into the topics real deep… Topics like food management, provisioning, insurance, routing and weather etc.. we will delve into, at a much deeper level, in the further upcoming webinars).

The webinars will be held on “ZOOM” and consist of +- 45 minutes of presentation, followed by 30 minutes (or more if needed) of open Q-and-A/discussions/shared experiences amongst the participants.

This webinars are free for all “Finding Dory” members. We will record the session and publish the link to the recording afterwards to all members.

The instructions on how to join this webinar, are distributed to "Finding Dory" members only, rather than widely distributing the link via social media, mainly to avoid spammers to join in, and disturb our webinar.

So, if you want to join in for the webinars, first join the "Finding Dory" community, and via our Whatsapp group, we will send you details on how to join each webinar. Instructions on how to join the growing "Finding Dory" flotilla on Whatsapp, you can find in this Noforeignland blogpost.

About me:

And for those who don't know me yet, I am Peter and I "administrate" the "Finding Dory" flotilla. Since I retired from my job in the UN, I am a quasi full-time instructor-mentor-trainer supporting fellow cruisers and new boat owners. I am also a regatta sailor on "bigger" boats. Though I have about 50,000 Nm under my keel, with +- 14 open ocean passages and 6 transats, I provide my support for free, as I want to "give back" to the sailing community in exchange to what it gave to me: a life-long joyful experience of sailing and meeting other like-minded people. I am strong believer of "give joy, share your experience, support others", and "good karma will come back to you".

"Spin-a-thong" - the business case for single-use spinnakers

2025-04-12T13:28:00.001+01:00

Log extract.
Date: 20-Nov-2023
Position: Between Cape Verde and Grenada, we're sailing as part of the ARC+ fleet

Prelude:
The ARC+ fleet is in Mindelo, Cape Verde, and most boats have their laundry done by one of the local ladies. Unfortunately, they were a bit overwhelmed and quite a bit of laundry got mixed up between different bags. So, while in Mindelo, there was a vivid exchange on our Whatsapp group, between the different boats, with crew posting pictures of different clothing, asking "Got this returned in my laundry bag, it is not mine. Whose is it?"
Equally, there was an equally vivid exchange of people looking for "lost laundry"

Short extract from the ARC+ chat group on Whatsapp while in Mindelo, Cape Verde.

John: Another pair of shorts found in our laundry bag. (picture inserted). Is not ours. Who does it belong to?
David: Not mine. I lost red shorts, though.
Laura: In my returned laundry bag, I miss a set of black lace ladies' underwear.
Peter (me): I will give it back to you in Grenada.

Now back to our topic.

I hate spinnakers.
Those light sail power chutes are an endless source of problems on sailing yachts.

Several ARC+ boats had issues with their spinnakers already on leg 1 to Mindelo.

A friend had their spin wrapping around their genoa, making both unusable for most of leg 1.

When I saw the shreads of David’s spin, at the dock in Mindelo, I sat on the bow of our boat, crying...

But then I had a bright idea: “single use spinnakers”!

Biodegradable spinnakers which you hoist and never lower: you just cut halyard, sheets and tack line, and let go.

We can make it a sustainable business by using recycled materials.
Like using ladies' lace underwear. I am happy to offer my vast collection of ladies' lace underwear for trials of single-use spinnakers.
Through the years I collected loads of red, black, pink ladies underwear. This would make it a nice recognizable brand mark for our spinnakers: many different small patches of a wide variety of colours. And smells. Some would be very very VERY small patches, indeed. In Mindelo, I bribed the local ladies doing the ships' laundry, to give me the nicest lace ones. - Sorry Laura! - So, I am prepared for this business case, and pitch in!...

Is lace biodegradable? I know it needs to be washed at 30°. But is lace biodegradable?

What would be a good brand name for single use spinnakers, made from recycled ladies' lace underwear?

“One night with you”?
“Yes, but once only! “?
“Spinning thongs”?
“The Thong Thing”
“Thongs are in the air, everywhere I look around”?
“Give thongs a chance”?
“Thongs Go Kiting”?

I think I need to cut down on coffee. :slight_smile:

(signed) Peter Pan.

UPDATE: the name and byline suggested by Audrey:
“Spin-a-thong - "Disposable spinnakers which can get you through every crack in the wind"

The "Adopt-my-dad" initiative, during the 2023 ARC+

2025-04-12T12:16:00.002+01:00

Passage log excerpt
Date: 27-Nov-2023
Position: Somewhere between Cape Verde and Grenada

Aboard S/V Sturdeee (yep, that is with three "e"s but skipper Ian finds it funny to spell out the vessel's name, ending in "Echo, Echo, Echo,...."), a Lagoon 450F catamaran.
On board: formidable skipper Ian, equally formidable p(r)etty officer Dee (Ian's partner), crew mate Michelle, my oldest daughter Lana and myself.
We're sailing a trans-atlantic with the ARC+ flotilla of 100 other boats. Most boats have Starlink, so the flotilla's Whatsapp group is very active, and fun. This is an extract of one of the chat exchanges

Protagonists in this chat: Apart from Lana and myself: Audrey, Nick and Mark who are sailing on other boats in our ARC+ fleet. Actually, Mark was also the skipper I did my very first transatlantic with, back in 2005. Audrey is one of the most hilarious people I ever met, possibly more nuts than me. Moaied is, well, you'll have to figure that one out yourself.

Extract from the ARC+ Whatsapp group chat while under way:

Peter: Lana, honey, can you please tell me where you put the coffee?
Audrey is typing….
Moaied is typing…
Peter: Lana, I promise to let you out of the front sail locker if you'd just tell me where you’ve been hiding the coffee?
Audrey: ARC+ most patient daughter award goes to Lana.
Peter: Audrey,... WOMAN! I thought you were on my side?!?
Moaied is typing…
Audrey: Maybe Sturdeeeeeee should trawl Peter’s witty jokes to catch their fish
Peter: Audrey, relaying message from Lana: “Audrey, I already told you several times: DO NOT ENCOURAGE HIM… If he really lets go of his limited self-inhibitions and social self-restrictions and subconscious suppressions, he will be his usual nuts, and nobody wants that, right?”
Peter: PS: actual fact: Lana holds a bachelor and a masters in psychology… I am not kidding you. But here I am kidding: That is why I am only allowed in a social environment when she is around so she can properly warn and safeguard the others.
Moaied is typing…
Audrey: Like I said, most patient daughter award.
Lana: Thanks for the recognition! This is definitely the biggest challenge in patience that life has thrown at me. One tip: never let your dad convince you to go on a boat trip for more than 1 day.
Moaied is typing…
Mark: I can save a dried flying fish for you Peter if you want to smoke it with your instant soup mushrooms. Did Lana really know what she was taking on ?
Peter: Mark, at this point, lacking coffee, I am open for experimenting with any stimulant. Cup-a-soup mushroom flavour is now finished. Cup-a-soup onion flavour seems slightly milder.
Audrey is typing….
Mark is typing….
Lana is typing…
Moaied is typing…
Mark: Lana, perhaps pack some Valium next time. You could always take it yourself if it doesn’t work on dad.
Lana: We’ve been slowly going through my secret drug stash, but nothing seems to work… Anyone up for adopting a crazy sailor? My dad is ready for pickup in the middle of the Atlantic...
Mark: I have adopted him before. It’s someone else’s turn now!
Nick: I bid 20 goats
Peter: I found the coffee.
Lana: Oh, no. Here we go...
Moaied is typing…

Sucking or blowing, that's the question.

2025-04-09T19:33:00.002+01:00

This post is all about clouds. And winds that go with them...

I think for us, sea-faring people, the difference between "sailors" and "Sailors" (similarly to the difference between "men and boys", "girls and women", "chickens and eagles", "Bambi and Rambo") is (partly) made by "how well we can read the clouds".

Why is "reading" clouds important?

After 50,000 Nmiles of open ocean passages, I have experienced first hand how sailors look at weather apps, read something like "sustained NE-lies of 20 knots, gusts up to 25 knots for the next 24 hours", and interpret this as if it was the Holy Truth. And yet, at 2 AM, in the pitch dark, we get hit by an hour of gusts up to 40 knots and 90° wind shifts, having us struggling to reef our sails.

Likewise, when sailing in-between islands, all too many times, we rounded a corner or headland, and the wind changed from 12 knots to 35 knots, with an almost 180° shift, with the crew scrambling from bikini-sailing to survival mode with sails flapping in all directions. And that, while the weather prediction called for a 12-15 knots stable wind...

With weather apps like Predictwind or Windy (that is "windy.com", which rocks and not "windy.app", which sucks), getting better and better, in my opinion, we have become too reliant to sail solely on these apps to predict our wind and weather.

We forget that these apps are mostly based on larger scale atmospheric predictions - the dynamic between low and high pressure systems mostly (I am over-simplifying bit here).

But we forget that these apps are not that good at predicting precise local weather conditions, conditions defined by e.g. local topography or clouds. Many of us have experienced weird wind shifts caused by funnelling or katabatic winds when sailing close to coastal mountain ranges or in between islands. And likewise, any experienced sailor knows how clouds can cause similar wind changes as we approach them. Weather apps, in my experience, can make a "guess"-timate of those local conditions, but can not predict them precisely. At all.

This is no blame on those prediction apps, as these local conditions can be ..eh.. very "local": When sailing between islands, a minimum wind direction change can alter the funnelling effect between islands significantly. Likewise, a cloud, based on its density and saturation, at the moment it passes us, can make a very significant difference in wind direction and strength.

On this post, we'll forget about coastal sailing, islands and mountains, but we'll concentrate on "reading the clouds" while sailing offshore.

There are two types of clouds

There are "blowing clouds" and "sucking clouds" (and that is my own terminology). "Blowing clouds" are spilling energy outwards, and "sucking clouds" absorb energy inwards. End of paragraph.

Blowing clouds

"Blowing clouds", are mature clouds. They have accumulated enough energy to become saturated, and they will be spilling out that energy. That "spilling energy" will be in the form rain and wind.

You can recognize a "blowing" or "mature" cloud, by looking at its shape and colour, and looking what is happening under that cloud.
A blowing cloud towers high above the horizon. In its more extreme form, they form a "T"-shape.
Typically they are also darker in colour than their "sucking" sisters which are still building up that energy.
If you look at the air below "blowing clouds", you will see the dark shade of rain underneath.

A note of wisdom here: sometimes a dark area below a cloud can be the shadow of the cloud, rather than rain. To distinguish between "rain" and "shadow", I look at the position of the sun versus the cloud: If the shadow beneath the cloud is in a straight line from the sun to the cloud, there is a good chance the dark area below a cloud is a shade, and not rain.
Another way to look at it, is to look at the direction of the shade: if you look at the shade from the bottom of the cloud towards the sea, and the shape of the shade follows the prevailing wind direction, there is a good chance, it is rain. If not, it might be a shade.
Rule of thumb, but no guarantee.

Back to blowing clouds: as these are mature and saturated clouds, they spill energy. If you would be an eagle, and look at the cloud from right above it, the winds would spill, from the centre of the cloud, 360° outwards. The higher and the darker the cloud, the more mature/saturated it is, and the stronger the winds it will spill from the center outwards. Right underneath the cloud, there will be a strong down-draft, with rain, and hardly any wind.

What does this mean for you, sailing transatlantic and thus sailing downwind: You see a dark and large cloud coming in from behind. You see the darker colours of the skies below the cloud, showing rain. This means that in front of the cloud, as you are sailing downwind, the spilling ("blowing") wind will amplify your prevailing (atmospheric) wind. That "amplification" might be anything from 10 to 20 knots: so if you have a prevailing wind of 20 knots and a "blowing cloud" catches up on you, right in front of the cloud, you might get gusts of 30 or 40 knots. Right underneath the cloud, you will get the downdraft (and the rain), reducing your wind significantly, or reducing it to almost nil...
And once the cloud passed you, its "blowing" behaviour, the wind it spills, will kill your prevailing wind for some time, with either "less wind", or "no wind", or in extreme cases, headwind as the spilling wind is blowing against the prevailing (atmospheric) wind

And mind you, this is an example when sailing downwind, and being hit from a "blowing" cloud from behind (sailing downwind, all clouds will hit you from behind).

One note here, though: not all "blowing clouds", will hit you overhead. You will have just as many "blowing clouds", passing you on the side (and I prefer these clouds to pass on my side, I hate to be hit directly with 35-40 knots squalls directly). But by observing the size and colour of the cloud, the colour of the shade below the cloud (density of the rain), you can estimate the strength of the spilling winds it will bring to you. And if you follow my mental eagle-eye picture of "blowing clouds spilling wind 360° from its center, you can then predict what windshifts you might have, as that cloud passes left or right from you.

Sucking clouds

Sucking clouds are young clouds, which are not "mature" or "saturated" yet. They are lighter in colour. They typically do not tower that high. And they don't have signs of rain underneath them.

If you'd "fly like an eagle" (Reference to a 1970'ies song by the Steve Miller Band, but most of the youngsters amongst you, won't remember neither the song, nor the band. - hey remember their song "The Joker"? - "Some people call me the space cowboy. dddadadadum.. " ). Anyways, if you'd be an eagle and flew above a sucking cloud (oh man, I can't get that song out of my head "Time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping")...

Anyways, so, if you'd be an eagle and fly right above a sucking cloud, you'd see, the air from 360° off the centre of the cloud, being sucked into the cloud. So, if you'd be on a transatlantic crossing, with the prevailing winds coming from behind and a "sucking cloud" approaches you, then, as the cloud approaches you, you will have less wind in front of the cloud.
Underneath the cloud, as air is sucked upwards, you will have slightly less wind, and once the cloud passes, its "sucking" will amplify the prevailing wind speed, and this will increase the wind AFTER the cloud passes (versus "increased wind in front of a cloud, if it is a mature blowing cloud")....

Sucking clouds are typically not as violent as blowing clouds, but they can still kill, shift or amplify your prevailing winds.

Sailing transatlantic East-West. What does this mean for you?

Those who know me, know that E-W transats, "are my thing". Not only because, by now, I've done six of them, but also, because for many cruisers and crew, this will be their first (and for many more, last), major open ocean passage. Being a moderator for the Noforeignland's "Crossing the Transat East-West" Facebook group, I see firsthand, how this is on the bucket list of many people, and the only open ocean passage they will ever do... Thus, time to spill some wisdom in that context, then.

So... what does this sucking and blowing mean for you, and how do you "work those clouds?"

(1) Clouds on an E-W transat, are born off Africa, and mature as they go across the Atlantic. Thus, the closer you get to the Caribbean, the more the water temperature raises, the more water evaporates in the air, the more mature clouds you will get, and the higher the chance you will be hit by a squall (a "blowing cloud"), thus the higher your vigilance should be to monitor for these "blowing clouds".
(2) During the day, visually check the clouds behind you. Is it a sucking or a blowing cloud approaching you? Can you change your course to avoid blowing clouds?
(3) As the dew point lowers during nights and early mornings, the higher the chances to get hit by a violent "blowing cloud", forming into a squall. In the dark, at night, check your radar every 30 minutes or so. If you see a dense cloud forming, try to change course a little, try to avoid the center of it. If the cloud is that big that you can not avoid it, be prepared. Reef properly. Way on forehand. Get some hands on deck to deal with the squall.
(4) As you approach the Caribbean, and clouds get more mature, and the probability to be hit by a squall gets higher: avoid flying spinnakers during night time. Nobody will punish you if you arrive a day later than planned, because you went slower during night time. But you surely will have more peaceful nights looking at the stars, while sailing on less canvas during the night, rather than trying to gain speed with your spinnaker up at night. As we approach the Caribbean, I always urge us to reduce canvas,

Have a safe transat everyone. And learn to read the clouds. Weather prediction apps are good, but keeping a good eye (or radar-eye) on the clouds behind you, and interpreting the blowing or sucking clouds well, will save your day...

Not what I expected to see after 10,000 miles of ocean passages.

2025-03-30T20:23:00.009+01:00

In each of the past winter seasons, I did one trans-Atlantic trip. I came back from each transat super-fit and in top shape. This year, it all went a bit different.

Already in June, I had committed to Chris and Amy, owners of "Saffron Star", to help them sail their Sun Odyssey 46, from Gibraltar to the Canaries and onwards to the Caribbean. Late June, my friend, work colleague and sailing partner since 30 years, Mats, had bought Manami II, a 46 ft Oceanis. He had set his goal to sail transatlantic in January, and asked me to join him.
I thought: "Ok, this is not what I had in mind, but that seems do-able", and to be honest, sailing two transats in one season is kinda special, something that would challenge me. And I like challenges.

Came August, and Mats had his boat almost ready. But not quite...: Manami II being in Vigo - NW Spain - in the holiday season, was not the best place to get the last preparations/repairs done: technicians were on holiday until September, and spare parts were difficult to import... So, when Mats asked me, early August, to "come and sail with him", I thought he meant some day sailing around Vigo... But, no, tired of endless delays in repairs, Mats wanted to sail the boat to the UK early September, do the work there, and sail back South, to the Canaries, a month later.

We both knew that was going to be a bit of a challenge: as of September, the North Atlantic depressions start rolling in, making the Spain-UK stretch (and vice-versa) a potential challenge: I could see, timing (and weather) would be an issue, and that would have me sailing open ocean passages continuously from September until February. "But so be it", I thought, "time to push my 65-year old body a bit...!".

Vigo to Hamble:

So, on Sept 3rd I joined Mats and two crew we recruited, for some test sails in Vigo and boat/provisioning preps. Despite some pending issues with the navigation system, and despite the fact we had never sailed this boat in open ocean passages before, we agreed to push on. We had a weather window to the UK, and off we went, through the Orca danger area off Cape Finesterra, over the Bay of Biscay, northwards.
It was a rough passage, to say the least: as predicted, we had either no wind, or 30 knots from the nose. We pushed on, with watches rotating 4 hours on and 4 hours off, over Biscay, around Bretagne, through the English Channel and the Solent, to arrive in the Solent 6 days later, at 4:30 AM. This turned out to be probably my roughest passage ever...

Gibraltar to Lanzarote:

I left the UK for a four days lay-over in Rome, enough to repack my bags, and fly off to Gibraltar, to join Chris and Amy on Saffron Star. Three days of boat prep and provisioning, and off we went to La Graciosa, the most Northern island of the Canaries. A nice sail, again with 4h on/4h off watches, with moderate steady winds, and without major issues, apart from the prop shaft disconnecting from the engine. But that was quickly repaired by Chris.
We arrived in the anchorage of La Graciosa, in the Canaries on October 5th, the birthday of skipper Chris and myself. We had a relaxed day with a nice lunch onshore, and the next day, I flew to the UK to re-join Mats.

Hamble to the Canaries (again):

I left Gracioso in shorts and Tshirt. Took a ferry, with crew mate Edu, to Lanzarote, a taxi to the main town, and a plane to London Gatwick. Arrived in London, standing in the railway station with the speakers announcing major storms and disruptions, taking three different train connections, only be dropped off by the taxi at the hostel of the Royal Southern Yacht Club in Hamble (which I did not know at that time, but apparently, this Club is an absolute world icon in yachting/racing)....

So I found myself at the entrance door of the Hamble Royal Southern Yacht Club, at 9 PM, in the rain, with my sandals and T-shirt, poorly covered by a rain jacket, knocking on the locked door, trying to get into the hostel, while nobody answered.
That was probably my "low" moment in the past 7 months. In my sandals, and a thin layer of clothes on, just trying to get into the hostel and shelter, before embarking on a 1,700 Nmiles (3,000 km) trip, back to warmth of the Canaries....
And embarking we did. Two days of prep on Manami II, and we left Port Hamble at 3:30 AM (which was the only tide/weather window we had in the next days), with an air temperature of 3°C, and a "frost warning" on Predictwind.

On Predictwind, I had previously seen gale/high seas/gusts/lightning/fog warnings before, but never a "frost warning"... We cast off knowing that for the next days, we would have to negotiate the Southampton cargo traffic and the Solent's complex navigation markers in the dark, the Solent and Needles tides (which we had planned JUST right!), the English Channel traffic (the busiest and most chaotic maritime spot in the world), onto the Bay of Biscay (one of the most notorious sailing areas in the world), past Finesterra and the Spanish/Portuguese West coast (notorious for its recent orca attacks on yachts)....

All while sailing in 4 hours on, 4 hours off watches, again, with two sea sick crew (during the first 48 hours), one freezing crew, and chaotic cargo/fishing vessels traffic all around us in the English Channel.
But we did it. Mats prepared the boat just right. Anne prepared the provisioning just right. And it was a pleasure to share my watches with Alf...
But not my idea of champaign sailing. Not close to anyone's perception of the romantic idea of sailing. Until 2 weeks later, we reached the island of Graciosa in the North of the Canaries, where I left Saffron Star, just one month ago...Déjà vu!

But in the midst of it, leaving the UK and passing the Channel, I was thinking..: "what the fudge"?!. It was a rough passage, again... I had more clothing layers on than I had during my past two Antarctic expeditions. It was bitter bitter cold. It was wet. It was windy. And the sea was pretty wild.
Each time I pulled myself up from the passage way, after a short sleep, into the pitch dark cockpit at 8 PM, or midnight or 4 AM, only to faintly see two frozen-stiff figures (Mats and Anne, who did the watch before me) in the dimmed lights, knowing that would be my life for the next 4 hours, together with Alf.... In the dark, cold and wet open air....
I thought "what the fudge" at that moment... Why the fu(dge) are we doing this for? Where is the fun in all of this?!

And yet, we survived. We dodged the Southampton and Solent cargo traffic, the Needles, the English Channel, Biscay, Finesterra, and beyond. We had everything from "no wind", to 35 knots, from totally flat seas to beating into 4 meter waves... Only to arrive back and anchor at Graciosa, one month after I left Saffron Star, anchoring on the exact same spot. Though this time, with winds blowing at 25 knots in the anchorage, which is a different story by itself. But the next day, we beached the dinghy, had a gorgeous sea food lunch on shore again.

And all hardship was forgotten in an instance....

Canaries to Barbados:

I flew from Lanzarote to Tenerife and joined Saffron Star (again) after a short break in Tenerife. We waited for 3 weeks in the marina, until we had a good weather window to sail to Cape Verde, and off we went.
Again with 4 people onboard (Chris and Amy, the owners, Nikki, a new crew member and myself). This time, we sailed 4 hours on and 12 hours off - what a luxury.
We had a nice passage with rather low winds up to Mindelo, on the island of Sao Vicente in Cape Verde. We cleaned the boat, took one day off to tour the island, one day of provisioning and off we went again.
We had a dream passage to Barbados with very steady winds and hardly any squalls. The only challenge I had, is that we had been delayed for 3 weeks in Tenerife. During the waiting period, I saw my planned 1 week off-time in Barbados disappear, and my planned 2 weeks Christmas holidays at home in Italy vaporized too. So we arrived in Barbados in the afternoon of December 22nd. I took one day off, and flew back to Rome on the 24th, to arrive back home in the late evening of Christmas day.
I had two days to do my laundry, get a hair-cut, catch up on some sleep, and spent four days of New Year's in Madrid with friends, after which, I flew to the Canaries to join Manami II, again.

Canaries to Grenada:

I arrived in Las Palmas on the evening of January 2nd, where Mats and Anne were waiting. We were joined by Alex, our new 4th crew the next day, and took 2 days to re-provision and prep the boat. We left for Cape Verde (again), on Jan 6th, as part of the Viking Explorers flotilla of 20 boats.
It felt like "déjà vu": I had left the Canaries for the Caribbean, a month ago, and here I was, sailing the same stretch again.
But we had gorgeous weather to Cape Verde. Steady winds, with 4 days and 4 nights without a single cloud in the sky. Talking about champaign sailing! And doing 4 hours on, 8 hours off watches, made it a nice and relaxed passage.
Despite the fact that it was an easy passage, I felt my body started to protest. I hurt my back, pinching a muscle, and my body started to feel real stiff. I did daily stretching exercises, which are not easy on a moving boat :-)
We arrived in Mindelo (again) after 6 days sailing and had about 5 days in the marina. We toured the island (again), and did a day tour to the neighouring island of Sao Antao. We reprovisioned, took fuel, prepped the boat and off we went to Grenada.

Just as, a month ago, the passage from Mindelo to the Caribbean had been relaxed champaign sailing, this passage was much rougher. We hit squalls as of 4 days out of Mindelo - which is rather exceptional. The prevailing winds were stronger, with an average of 25+ knots. The sea state was quite aggitated. Two transats within a month, and such a different weather and sea!

But, it was quite fun. We had a great time chatting with the other boats in the Viking Explorers' flotilla, via our Starlink satellite connection. And overall, it was a good passage...

During the passage, though, I felt like my body started to get weaker. At times, it felt like I was going to flip through my knees, as if no strength was left...

Grenada:

The moment I stepped off the boat in Grenada, early February, I could hardly walk. My left knee gave in, and my whole body was stiff. Luckily I had 10 days off in Grenada before flying back to Europe, so I went for a session with an osteopath/physiotherapist twice. Looking at my body and my movements, she said: "Hmmm, we have our work cut out for us".

And at the moment I write this, we're 4 weeks and 6 physiotherapist sessions later. What happened became clear: I had lost about 7 kgs of muscle weight, mostly on my legs. Pretty obvious why, as while sailing passages, you hardly use your legs: Most of the work is done by your upper body.
That is fine for one transat passage of 2-3 weeks, but by the time we arrived in Grenada, I had been sailing 10,000 Nmiles (or 18,000 km) in 5-6 months, with a constant strain on my body..
While passage sailing, you are constantly "holding on" to something: while moving around the boat, taking a shower or going to pee. Even while sleeping, your body is working, trying not to move around too much in your bunk.

The result on my legs, and how much of my leg muscles had disappeared, you can actually see in the picture on top of this post. You can also see that my left leg lost much more muscle than the right one, causing the left knee to do "overtime". Thus my issues with my knee.

Now, one month after after arriving in Grenada, I am still recovering slowly, with my knee taped up to give it extra support. And I am doing exercises to regain my legs' muscle mass.

Now I get it, how competition sailors doing non-stop around the globe races, can hardly walk on shore after arriving... Not what I had expected to see or feel after my 6 months of ocean passages, but something I can clearly understand now.

That sixth sense when sailing transatlantic

2024-11-22T16:04:00.004+01:00

The stories of open ocean crossings few people tell....
When sharing stories with other sailors about ocean crossings, in my experience, those are mostly tales about winds, sail settings, provisioning... But, for me, there is more to an ocean crossing than that... For me, an ocean crossing is about opening my senses... And at times, my senses go "really open" :-)

Here is one story.. I am looking forward to hear other stories from other ocean sailors about "extra-ordinary" things that happened to them, which make "open ocean sailing".... eh... "special"...

This is my story of my most "meta-physical" experience when crossing an ocean:

The setting: It is 2006. It was my 4th or 5th ocean crossing, and my first trans-atlantic trip...
One night: We were somewhere between Cape Verde and the Caribbean. I had the night shift with Pete, who had been my watch-mate for over a month already by then, as we are re-locating our boat (a 57ft Beneteau) from Southampton to the Caribbean.

Pete and I, initially, banged heads as we were both strong-willed people, but through the daily watches (sailing, cooking and cleaning) we did together, we grew to like each other, trust each other, and started to have loads of fun together, especially during our mid-night watches.

That one night in the mid-Atlantic, I remember very well!
The skies were clear, but it was dark. I mean "pitch dark". There was no moon. Around our vessel, we could not see anything. Meta-physically, it seemed our 57ft boat was sailing at 10 kts into a void of nothing-ness.

At a certain point, around midnight, I told Pete: "I feel we're not alone....." Pete looks at me with void eyes... I tell him: "I can feel a presence around us..... Someone is right here, close to us, very close"..
At that point, Pete laughed at me, asking if I smoked the wrong stuff, or had snorted some of the dried mushroom soup we found in the galley earlier in the day, in a plastic bag. But I insisted: while we could see nothing, and had no visual contact with any land or another vessel for days, I... I... I just could sense someone was close to us. Very close.

We did not have AIS ("Automatic Identification System) back then, in 2006. So, we looked at the radar, and strangely enough, one second we could see a faint blip close to us, and then, nothing..... The blip looked like reflections from a wave....: A small radar-blip and then nothing again... Was there someone?
The blip was quite close to our boat... But it was there and the next second, it was gone. And a minute later, it appeared again.

We always had our VHF radio in the cockpit on channel 16, but had not heard a beep for days. On a hunch, I just pushed the PTT ("Push to Talk") of microphone on our VHF, on channel 16. I did not say anything, but just keyed the microphone on and off, and that's it. And, ......... a PTT-click came back on the radio. Loud, strong and clear. The hair on the back of my neck stood up... Someone clicked his VHF radio, And that someone was someone close by....

Pete and I looked at each other in disbelief. After days of radio-silence, days without having seen any other signs of life - or another vessel -, we heard a PTT-click on the radio. I keyed the VHF radio again, and this time, I said something like: "General call on one-six, this is sailing vessel Persuader Too, at (coordinates)".

Lo-and-behold, immediately came an answer with a clear and loud voice "Persuader Too, this is sailing yacht Daddledu on one-six, hearing you loud and clear".
From the clarity of their VHF transmission, we realized that Daddledu was close to us. We asked them to give a light signal, so we could physically locate them. And a single white light signal, probably from a flashlight, came back......... Daddledu was not just "in our vicinity"....... they were about 100m off our starboard. We could almost touch them.

We chatted on the VHF radio. They were a German crew and on their way to Barbados. They were not taking part in the ARC, as we were. We asked why they were not showing any navigation lights? They responded they had been dis-masted some 500 miles back and hence were trying to conserve as much power as possible, while they put up a make-shift jury-rig to continue some sailing. So they had switched off all navigation lights.
Their skipper was a guy called Jens. Asking if we could assist, he said they were all OK but would appreciate it if we could relay a communication or send an e-mail to the skipper's wife Angelica back in Germany, to let her know what happened to their rig, that they were safe but their arrival in Barbados would be much later than expected.
Which we did.

We never actually "saw" Daddledu. Only saw their single light flash and heard their voice on VHF. By the time daylight came through, we had already passed them by 30-40 miles. A light ping in the dark, and a VHF-voice in the void.. In the middle of no-where. That was our encounter.

From that moment on, Pete never doubted by sixth-sense again.

Picture: Me at the helm of Persuader Too in 2006, in the mid Atlantic, the morning after our Daddledu encounter... 🙂

The Flying Dutchman. Or not

2024-11-22T15:39:00.001+01:00

Another story of "real weird stuff" happening during an ocean crossing...

The setting: It is late 2022. We are sailing S/V Nerio, a 72ft Jongert 2200S, from Gibraltar to the Canaries.
We are three onboard: "Peter One", the skipper and owner; Hanne, a friend of the skipper; and myself "Peter Two". Hanne does not sail, but helps with the cooking and boat chores, so the skipper and I sail this thoroughbred racing cruiser with 4 hour single watches: 4 hours on and 4 hours off.

One early morning, just around sunrise, we must have been 3 days into our passage from Gibraltar to Las Palmas: As I wake up, I hear the engine running: there is no wind, we’re motoring.

I come on deck, ready to start my watch. The sea is flat calm. Not a whisper of wind. I find both Peter and Hanne in the cockpit, looking intensely towards the horizon on our port.

They look at me, as I take a seat in the cockpit. They say "Good morning", and immediately turn their heads again to our port side. I ask them "What's up? Anything wrong?!"

And Peter says: "We seem to have a Flying Dutchman" and points to the navigation screen, which shows an AIS signal close to our boat. For the non-sailors: "AIS"= "Automated Identification System", an automated data-gram transmitted via VHF radio from each boat, identifying who they are, where they are, their speed, course, and optionally destination, length-width, etc..).

And the AIS screen indeed clearly shows a solid green IAS blip of a cargo vessel which is supposed to be about half a mile off our port side.

Even though the sun is just rising, and the sky is quite bright already, in a pale-white/light grey way, we don't see any vessel. We see water and sky, all in different shades of light grey-ish, making it difficult to distinguish between sky, horizon and the sea. But no ship. Very calm sea with a light ocean swell transitioning into a rather grey sky, somewhat typical for a morning pre-sunrise.

"A Flying Dutchman", Peter repeats, "A ghost ship.. Seems there is nothing there".

Now I know it is possible AIS, like any computer system, gets screwed up, and transmits or receives wrong data. But still... this is all slightly worrying, as according to the AIS, we should have a 250m long cargo vessel about 600 meters from our port. In land-lubber terms that might sound like quite a distance between us, but when you are sailing, that is a distance --mmmmh.. slightly outside of our comfort zone.. Normally we like to keep 1 Nautical mile or 1.8 kilometers from cargo vessels, as a safety buffer zone.

We look again. And see nothing. "Yep, probably a phantom signal, showing a ghost ship on our AIS..", we conclude...

But... we keep looking... The sun is not out yet, so the sky is light-grey and there is slighter horizontal darker-grey rim, which must be the horizon, we guess. But no sight of a vessel. Just to make sure, we switch on the radar (which we only run occasionally, to save power), and gosh: the same blip we have on AIS, we can see on the radar too....There MUST be a vessel out there. No way both radar and AIS could be wrong....

And right at that moment, something happens... Some of the slightly darker grey horizontal layers in the sky we saw earlier on our port side, which we mistook for a horizon, clears up, making it now obvious what is happening: we are sailing in a really low fog-bank and had not even realized it, with all of that grey-ish-ness around us.
Like in the movies: the fog parted in just a few seconds, and like curtains on a stage opening up slowly, the mist bank clears, and we see a massive cargo ship, indeed, half a mile off our port side.

We are sailing in a fog bank without even realizing it. It was not a ghost signal from a "Flying Dutchman"... All our instruments showed the correct data... The early morning mist had fooled us.

And that is what I find intriguing about sailing. No matter my 20 years of sailing, every single day at sea, I learn something new. And nature, the elements, or circumstances, present me something new, not experienced before. And we learn. Sailing is not about training certificates, it is about experience. And no matter how much I sail, no matter how the experiences rack up, I am still learning new things, experience new stuff, e-v-e-r-y single day.

That day, I learned to trust AIS and radar, beyond relying solely on what I can see...
And there is also an other story coming up, showing that solely relying on instruments, without visual verification, is not enough either :-) :-) ...

Sailing, hey! :-)

Know the navigation tools you use!

2024-11-07T16:19:00.010+01:00

Three weeks ago.

Things are a bit intense here aboard Manami II. We are about 100-150 Nm WSW off the Portuguese SW corner. It is very early in the morning hours... The sky is dark grey, half lit,... but we don't know if the faint light comes from the moon or if the sun is actually raising at dawn. And the wind is absolutely ***howling*** in the rigging, at 30-35 kts. We are wet, we are cold, we are tired, and we're in the deep end of a low pressure area, sailing South.

Normally, when sailing to the Canaries, I don't venture that far West, in the open Atlantic ocean, as normally I come in from South Spain, Gibraltar or Southern Portugal and cut across the most Western Gibraltar Traffic Separation zone (TSS), which is wayyy further East.

But this time, we came from the UK, hugging the Spain and Portugal West coast, to cut across to the Canaries.

Apparently.......... there are two shallow areas (20-25m depth) underwater mountains raising steeply from 1000-2000m depth to +-20m, in the middle of the ocean in the area we were about to cross (picture below - iSailor screenshot).

It took me by surprise as normally, when I come in from Gibraltar we don't venture that far offshore, west. But the real surprise was that the (expensive, annual renewable) Navionics charts we have on our tablets/phones/chart plotter,... did NOT show any details of these shallows, unless if fully zoomed in. Reminds me of Vestas/11th Hour crash onto a non-zoomed-in reef off Madagascar, in the Volvo Ocean race some years ago, right?

And even when fully zoomed in, those Navionics charts did not show any details at all. (see pic below of a Navionics screen shot - no details of the depths, and no details there were actually two underwater peaks - compare to the below iSailor screen shots)

Meanwhile, my mickey-mouse cheap (and no longer supported/updated) iSailor maps on my Iphone, clearly showed the shallows, even when zoomed fully out.

WTF Navionics/Garmin?!?! Like, really, WTF?!?

I mean.. we came across those shallows in 35 kts wind in the dark. There must have been significant weird currents and standing waves, if we were to have gone over these shallows.

Navionics, hey..!? A cheap no-longer supported app like iSailor with outdated charts, payable “once and good for life”, outranks an app like Navionics in details?! A bit scary, knowing Navionics is used and dearly paid for - thru annual expensive subscriptions - by many cruisers?!

Lessons learned: Electronic charts are fine, but know the limitations of the tool. And compare different tools. I am sticking to iSailor which saved my *ss so many times in the past. Even if the tool is no longer supported, and charts have not been updated for a while.

And by the way, over the years, I had too many instances of navigation bouys marked in Navionics, but which nowhere to be spotted in “real life”. That means, as a full-time sailor, I would never rely on this over-priced, faulty piece of crap software, as my sole navigation aid.

*end of rant*

The Skipper's Rules for Ocean Passages

2024-11-01T13:29:00.008+01:00

Over the past years, I have been mentoring/guiding yacht owners to prepare for ocean passages. Many of them had previously sailed for years and knew their boat well. But typically, they day-sailed, adding an occasional overnight passage, but had never done a long open ocean passage before.

The main challenge I have seen is that many skippers consider an ocean passage of e.g. 17 days, as “just 17x a day passage”. A common mistake. An ocean passage is very different from day sailing. I wrote an earlier blogpost about how to prepare a boat for an ocean passage. In this post, I want to focus more on the crew, management of expectations and clear understandings of what both the skipper and the crew expect from the trip and each other..

One of the things I have been insistent on, is to establish clear “rules” onboard, clarifying what a skipper/owner expects of his/her crew and how the crew is expected to work and live on the boat.

Unclear rules, lead to confused expectations of either side – the skipper or the crew - and lead to conflicts or bad feelings during a passage. And you do NOT want that… As a skipper, you’d want all your crew to be “tuned in”, and agreeing what and how you want to do your upcoming ocean passage, and for all to have an enjoyable passage. As a crew, you’d want to know not only “what” to do, but also “how to do it”.

Here is an outline of “The Skipper’s Rules” for an ocean passage which I use, where you, as skipper, can start from. Adapt where you see fit. None of this is cast in concrete. The important thing is “to establish the rules and expectations”, in whichever form.

(1) Our goal

Our main goal is to get the boat and crew safely from A to B, with the least wear and tear on the boat. Our secondary goal is to be able to enjoy the uniqueness of a passage in an open ocean, an opportunity only few people are privileged to enjoy.

(2) The Skipper

On any boat, there is only one skipper, who makes the final call on anything related to the boat and passage. He/she might consult with others, but the skipper makes the final call.

(3) The First Mate

The first mate is the 2nd in command on a boat, and typically takes care of the day-to-day management of the boat and crew. If the skipper becomes incapacitated, the first mates takes over command of the yacht.

(4) Safety first

- When new crew boards a ship, the skipper or first mate should give a thorough safety briefing. A safety briefing consists of a run-through of all equipment on board (fire extinguishers, fire blankets, main cut-off switches, person-over-board and emergency equipment) and the basic safety procedures, including "MOB"- or "Man (person)-over-board".
- Rule #1: don't fall overboard. Rule #2: don't fall overboard. Rule #3: don't fall overboard.
- PFDs ("Personal Floatation Devices" or "Life jackets") are to be worn at night, as of sunset to sunrise, for all crew on deck, even in the cockpit. PFDs are also to be worn when working on the top/foredeck in rough seas, even during daytime. Beyond that, if the skipper deems the seas to be rough or winds to be unstable (e.g. incoming squalls) or strong (e.g. 20+ knots) winds, he/she can call for "PFDs on" for all crew on deck at any time.
- Beyond that, crew can always put on their PFD, whenever they feel uncomfortable.
- In high swells, particularly at night, crew is to be clipped on with their lifelines, even when in the cockpit. In rough weather, crew is always to be clipped on when working on top/foredeck, day or night.

(5) Night sailing

- PFD's on, at all times during night hours, for any crew on deck, even in the cockpit.
- Crew stays in the cockpit area, and do not go onto the top/foredeck unless if it is really needed.
- If work needs to be done on top/foredeck at night, there always have to be at least two crew on deck: one in the cockpit and one doing the work on the top/foredeck.
- At night, crew uses head torches, with red-only lights. White lights can be used to occasionally look at the sails or to look forward of the ship, but in general, white lights should be avoided, even below deck.

(6) Alcohol

- No alcohol during the passage, except, an optional sunset crew-toast (if the skipper agrees) with a beer/glass of wine (and one beer/glass of wine only), but no hard liquor. “Dry boat” or “sunset drink only”, is a skipper’s choice/decision. I am equally happy on a total dry boat, or one where we have a sunset drink).
- The night before leaving for a passage: no heavy drinking or partying. For the start of any passage, the crew has to be at their best.

(7) Drugs and smoking

- No drugs allowed on board.
- The skipper defines if smoking is allowed onboard - which is a deal-breaker for me, as “my only vice in life” is that I smoke. But I try to be really “social” in my smoking: I only smoke downwind, and put my ashes in a small lid-locked ash tray.

(8) Watches

- Watches are pre-scheduled, agreed by and followed by all crew.
- Watches come on deck, on time. Keep in mind, that in rough or cold weather, you might need 20 minutes to get your gear on, and prepare a coffee. But… be on time!
- At any time, at least one person is to be on watch.
- The person on watch is in charge of the ship’s operation and crew safety during their watch. The person on watch pays full attention to the boat, traffic, sea state, wind, potential hazards (fishing pods or nets, objects in the water,..) and weather.
- A person on watch uses eyes, ears, and feeling to their full capacity to ensure safety of ship and crew. As such, even when sailing on autopilot, the watch sits at – or near – the helm, paying full attention to the boat and its surroundings.
- As a watch keeps an “eye”, “feeling” and “ear” on the boat, it is preferred not to use headsets or ear-phones as it dumbs your hearing. If you like some background music during your watch, use a bluetooth speaker…
- Each watch has a "buddy system". The watch can call on their "buddy" for sail changes or any assistance needed during their watch. If need be, the watch calls on the skipper when in doubt, or before any significant decisions.
- If, for any reason, those who are to be on watch are not up to their task (sea sickness e.g.), they ask an alternate (typically "their buddy") to take over their watch.
- If the person on watch observes a significant change in weather or sea state, which requires sail changes, they call on backup crew (typically "their buddy") to assist with sail changes. Some sail changes (e.g. dropping the spinnaker) might need “more hands on deck”, a call to be made by the watch.
- if those on watch feel uncomfortable at any time, or question themselves if sail changes or significant course changes etc… are needed, they call on their buddy, or call on the skipper to confirm their intended changes
- If in any doubt, do not hesitate to wake up the skipper. The skipper needs to trust you to call on him or her, if you need help

(9) Proximity to other vessels

- In open sea, we keep a nominal safe distance ("CPA" or "Closest Point of Approach") of 1 nautical mile from any cargo vessel. In more close quarters (coastal passages, busy traffic lanes), 0.5 Nmiles CPA (aft or alongside a cargo vessel) is acceptable, but no less. If in doubt, we call them on VHF to agree how we will pass each other.
- By preference we cross the path of cargo vessels aft of them, and not in front of them. If we have little other alternative but to pass in front of a motor vessel, we keep a safe distance – e.g. 3 miles separation in front of a cargo vessel moving at 15 knots is fine, but we keep much more separations from catamaran ferries moving at 40 knots! If in doubt, we call them on VHF to agree how we will pass each other.
- As fishing vessels tend to make erratic/random course changes, we keep a minimal separation of 1 mile with fishing vessels. We keep in mind that fishing vessels can troll long nets or miles-long floating lines, so by preference we cross in front of fishing vessels, giving them plenty of separation dependent on the speed they move at. If in doubt, we call them on VHF to agree how we will pass each other.
- Even when under sail, by preference we change course to keep a safe distance from cargo or fishing vessels, except if we have little maneuverability (e.g. when sailing under spinnaker, or in areas with very dense traffic). We keep in mind that e.g. a 200m long cargo vessel travelling at 20 knots has very limited maneuverability. If in doubt, we call them on VHF to agree how we will pass each other.
- Other sailing vessels, we can pass at 0.5 miles separation, or less, but the closer we pass other sailing vessels, the sharper we keep a look-out: Other sailing yachts might not pay attention, or not know/respect the collision rules,.. As such, we always have an “alternative/emergency maneuver” in our mind, to avoid “close calls”. If in doubt, we call them on VHF to agree how we will pass each other.
- Whenever in doubt, don’t be shy to call the other vessel on VHF to confirm (1) if they see us on AIS/radar and (2) how we will pass each other.

(10) Wear and tear on the boat

- The sunrise watch makes a tour of the vessel to inspect any wear and tear of the standing and running rigging, and to inspect the deck.
- The sunrise watch clears the deck of any flying fish or other bits (e.g. sea weed) and if need be (if fresh water is available), rinses the cockpit windows
- any bits and pieces which might have fallen off the rigging, any damage, wear-and-tear, or any points of (possible) shafing, is to be reported to the skipper.
- Nuts, bolts, rods or other hardware bits found on deck, can be a sign of an impeding larger problem, so do not take this lightly…

(11) Weather predictions

The skipper or first mate check weather predictions daily. Based on the predictions, the skipper can make changes in sail plan, course or overall passage plan.

And now for a slightly less “black-and-white” authoritarian advice. But still, just as important…

(12) “Everything has its place”

Or in other words: on a well-organized boat, “everything lives somewhere”. If everyone (especially guest crew) start “using stuff” (tools, cooking utensils, etc…), it is important to “put it back where you found it”.
It is frustrating to have to look through the entire boat to find the darned binoculars, the deck flashlight, or the darned can-opener. Or the preventer lines, which seem to keep on moving between different lazarettes etc..
From experience, I know, as the ocean passage goes on, crew often get more tired, and “the temper fuses” start to get shorter. Simple stuff like “Who did not put the cutting board back on its usual place?”, “why does the coffee jar keep on moving between cupboards?” can become a source of frustration.
But there is also a safety component: If the VHF handheld, the binoculars, the deck flashlight, the backup head torch, spare lines etc.. all have their dedicated place, we won’t lose time looking for them, when “things get hairy”.

(13) Cost sharing

- Agree with the skipper which costs will be shared amongst the crew, and how the common costs will be tracked. In the past, we had different agreements: on some boats, the crew agreed to share the marina fees and fuel, while on others, we did not. Do agree on forehand.
- Other common expenses, such as crew dinners and drinks, provisioning, communications’ (Starlink!) costs etc.. can be tracked via simple apps such as “Tricount”. Common crew expenses should be settled before any crew leaves the boat.

(14) Visitors

- For a yacht owner, his/her boat is his/her home. So, as crew, we need to take that into consideration when inviting other people onboard, while at anchor or in a marina.
- Agree with the skipper/owner, if it is ok to bring visitors aboard, even for a quick visit.

And now moving onto even less “black-and-white” advice.

“A well-fed crew, is a happy crew”. And the way meals are scheduled, prepared, and shared, is very often a reflection of the dynamics amongst a boat-crew…! It is important to agree, before the passage, when meals are prepared and who prepares them, as it often takes – dependent on the sea state – considerable effort to prepare meals on a rolling and pitching boat.

Here is my advice:

(15) Cooking

- Each day, one person (or a pair-of-persons in larger crews) is pre-appointed to cook the main meal of the day. This is typically the evening meal, preferably to served before sunset.
- If possible, we extract this person (or pair), called “the mother watch”, out of the normal sailing watch schedule for that day. E.g. with four crew, three crew can rotate and cover the 24h sailing watch cycle while one crew can be the mother watch without any sailing duties for that day.
- The mother watch can rotate day per day, with each crew, in turn, taking on the mother watch duties for a day.
- The mother watch is also responsible for cleaning the galley after the cooking: washing dishes, drying them and stowing everything away.
- If it is agreed that the evening meal is the “main meal” of the day, then breakfast and lunch (and anything in-between), can be prepared by anyone or as an additional task which the mother watch can take on.
- As the provisions on a boat are (always) limited in choice, it is preferred one crew is responsible for the overall provisions management. He/She will know what will need to be "used" first (we don't want to throw away too many left-overs, or fruits/vegggies/meat going off because it is not eaten in time). It is preferred, the mother watch checks with the person managing the provisions, what should be "used" first.
- As a courtesy to the crew on watch, and anyone awake at any time, if any of the crew makes breakfast or lunch, it is basic courtesy to check with the others on deck, on watch or awake, if they want breakfast or lunch too. It is not that much of an extra effort to throw in some extra eggs in the pan, or make some extra sandwiches, while you are preparing something for yourself.

I am open for more comments and suggestions, but in the mean time, I wish you a happy and safe ocean crossing!

"All systems down" - a sketchy arrival in Mindelo - Cape Verde

2024-08-14T16:49:00.007+01:00

28-Nov-2022 15:00 Approaching Cape Verde

We had a good passage from Las Palmas to Cape Verde aboard S/V Nerio. With a crew of five plus the skipper, we sailed this ship, un-eventfully, 800 Nm (about 1,500 km) through some pretty stiff winds in five days.

Note that I use the term "ship". Nerio is not a "boat", she is a proper "ship": An aluminium racing cruiser of 72ft (22 meters), with its 30m tall carbon mast, 18 winches (two hydraulic and two driven by pedestrals), 4 meters draft, 40-odd tons of displacement, carbon-laminated mainsail,... She used to dominate off-shore regattas with a crew of 22. She is big, and by far the largest yacht I ever sailed on.

I met Nerio and Peter, her skipper, in Cartagena, a few months earlier, in October. Peter and I had been talking on taking Nerio transatlantic for over 16 months by then. And we stroke a deal then in Cartagena - somewhat induced by one-too-many strong gin-and-tonics (What can I say. The waitress liked me, so double-served the gin part): as I was looking to get the experience in "managing" a bigger yacht, Peter would allow me to be Nerio's first mate, preparing the passage plans, weather routing, pilotage, watch schedule, provisioning...

Kudos to the skipper, in giving me that opportunity and challenge which started early Nov when him and me (plus one more non-sailing crew) ferry'd Nerio from Gibraltar to Las Palmas, in a "4 hours on and 4 hours off" watch schedule between him and me -- the first time, I handled single watches on a big ship like this, raising and dropping sails as we negotiated the Gibraltar straights, one of the world's busiest cargo traffic areas and most complex current/tidal areas.

Where was I.. Oh, right, we were approaching Mindelo, Cape Verde... Mindelo is notorious in the yachting community: The marina is pretty tight, and the larger anchoring area on its Western side is dotted with unmarked wrecks, unlit mooring buoys, abandoned vessels, and sailing yachts at anchor. Most pilot books state "Do NOT approach this port and anchorage at night"...

28-Nov-2022 17:00 Approaching Mindelo (with a blind fold?)

But I had been there a year ago, and stayed at anchor for about a week in front of the marina, so I knew the "lay-of-the-land" a bit.
So, as we approached Mindelo, inbetween the islands of Sao Vicente and Sao Antao, the skipper said: "Right, Peter, you have been here before, you take her in"....
In the days before, via the satphone, I had negotiated a slot in the marina, but I also knew that, by sunset, the marina staff would go home. And we had no time to waste.. Sunset was in about an hour or so..
As we came in the narrows between the islands Sao Vicente and Sao Antao, the sun was setting. We had planned to approach Mindelo on Sao Vicente, in day light, but -as it often goes-, planning is one thing, and the winds is another thing.
So,.. we were late. Mindelo is not a port you want to approach after sunset...

As we saw the lighthouse on the rock of "Djeu", in front of Mindelo approaching, I took over the boat. I briefed the crew of the approach plan. We took the sails down, and put all fenders out, we were ready.

As I had expected, the wind funneled between Sao Vicente and Sao Antao, but the prevailing wind direction (from the NE), really accelerated the wind. Talking about funneling, hey..? This was proper funneling. From a 15 knots wind, approaching the islands, the wind now increased to 20-25-30-35-OMG-40 knots, as we came inbetween the lighthouse on the Djeu rock and the island of Sao Vicente.

As I was standing at the helm, aft of the ship, with the main navigation and monitoring screens further forward in the main cockpit area, and the crew spread on deck, ready for the approach, I throttled the engine into neutral, and Nerio, was still speeding at 3-4 knots, just on the windage of its mast and standing rigging. "Interesting,...", I thought, "I never sailed a yacht purely on its windage"...

And that is the moment, it started to get really "interesting"...

28-Nov-2022 18:00 All systems down..!

Just as we rounded the Djeu lighthouse, with all crew ready to pass the commercial port of Sao Vicente on our port side, in 40 kts of wind, I was looking at the different navigation screens and all of a sudden, all screens went blank......... (that is a lot of dots.. reflecting my "OMG" thoughts)...

I had no more chart plotter information, GPS or wind data nor depth reading. I was in command of a 72ft vessel, which was sailing on its windage in a 40kts wind, into a notoriously difficult anchorage, in the dark.., well.. blindly.

Peter, the skipper, tried to reboot the systems, which was a UNIX-based home-brew system, but in vain.... As the sun set behind the horizon and darkness fell, we were blind.

From memory, I recalled I could not take a wide berth to approach the marina, as there were too many half-sunk vessels on the Western side, and many yachts would be anchored there. So, as all crew was standing by on their positions ready for the approach, and the wind hooooowling in the rigging, I took out my iPhone. I had saved the track of the approach we did a year earlier, and I knew, if I followed that track, and stay East of the abandonned vessels, and a bigger fishing vessel (which never seems to move), called "Croix du Sud", we would be safe.

So out came my $800 iPhone, with its saved track,.. and we safely navigated past the commercial port, staying free of the anchored sailing vessels, and all other hazards, approaching the Mindelo marina. I called them on my VHF handheld, and with a torch, they gave a light signal, where to dock - next to the fuel dock -.

As we approached, I gave Nerio's reigns back to Peter, and he safely docked Nerio, to be followed by abundant shrimps dinner, spiced up with local beers.

How a $800 iPhone saved the day, hey?

PS: After some debugging, we found that the navigation systems crashed as the buffer files of the UNIX navigation systems filled up the hard disk, crashing the whole system. A problem which we cured in 1 minute, once identified, by putting in a batch routine to flush all buffers every hour - for the nerds amongst you -.

A basic checklist for your next ocean passage

2024-06-05T09:04:00.018+01:00

I have now done quite a few open ocean passages, and I start to be picky which boat and crew I want to sail with. A well prepared boat and crew is not a guarantee for a pleasant and safe passage, but surely a good starting point.

This is the checklist I made for myself before committing to crew on a boat for an ocean passage, and -though not complete- might also be a base to start from, for any skipper planning an ocean passage, specifically if this is his/her first ocean crossing.

Let me start first, with my key advice: The common mistake I experienced is that many owners or skippers (who never did an ocean passage before) think: "Oh I sailed the Med for 2 years, and did 2-3-4,000 miles in day passages. An ocean passage is just -say- 20 days, so only 20 times a day passage." It is not. Ocean passages are far more stressing on a yacht and its crew. A 20 days open ocean passage needs more preparation than 20 days of day sailing in the Med (or Northsea, or the Baltic). So: prepare well. An open ocean crossing can be your experience of a life-time. You do not want it to be your "this was the time I thought we were toast".

The list starts with stuff related to the boat itself:

Rig inspection

Prior to your trans-ocean passage, have a certified rigger do a thorough standing rigging inspection: condition of the stays, chainplates, spreaders, split-pins, and all connections. Check the condition of the mast. Check all running rigging for chafing. Bring along least one spare halyard and one spare sheet.
And during your ocean passage, part of your early-morning watch duties, is to do a "round-the-boat" visual check on all the rigging and the deck. You might find it silly when I tell you, that I take it really seriously if I find any nut, bolt or any other piece of hardware on the deck, in my morning shift's tour. "Anything that fell off", had a function, and might be a sign of a bigger problem to come. Do not underestimate the continous stress on the boat's rigging, during an ocean passage.

Sail plan

Many ocean passages are done downwind. What is the sail plan? While it is perfectly possible to cross e.g. the Atlantic East-West with a small 100% self-tacking genoa, it might not make for a fast and comfortable crossing.
I'd rather look for a 120+% genoa, preferably with a whisker pole to pole out the genoa: downwind waves will push the boat left-right, deflating and inflating the genoa several times per minute, which will wear out the genoa, and put a lot of stress on the rigging.
Find ways to keep that genoa open. If no whisker pole, possibly find a way to sheet your genoa aft (through spinnaker tackles?), and use a barber hauler to keep pressure on the genoa sheet and trim it better.
Of course it would be nice to have a light downwind sail: a symmetrical or asymmetrical spinnaker (gennaker), or a kite (like a Parasailor), to be used in lighter (<20 br="" kts="" winds.=""> Have a good preventer system for your boom, connected to the end of the boom and onto your deck, preferably onto a cleat. Crash-gybing your mainsail can be a cause of major, if not catastrophic, damage. On several boats we did a crossing with, we always had both starboard and port preventers on, not only to prevent crash gybing but also to avoid excessive deflating/re-inflating of the main sail. The stiffer your mainsail (e.g. with batons), the more likely your mainsail will deflate/re-inflate rather violently, wearing out the sail and cars - and putting pressure on your mast, goose neck and rigging.

Chafing

On an ocean passage, anything which rubs against anything, will cause wear-and-tear or chafing. Even while, for instance, there might not be any tension or pressure between a sheet rubbing over your rail, after 2 weeks of ocean passage's "rubbing", for sure, there will be chafing damage.
Anything flapping (like a loose bit of sail cover) for weeks on end, will get damaged or worn. The foot of your genoa, at the luff e.g., rubbing over your bow's rail, will cause wear and tear.
My advice is to bring along some cheap and real thick plastic water hoses. Any running rigging rubbing against something else? Cut a piece off the hose, splice it, and clamp it over those bits rubbing. It will limit your wear and tear.
One note -though not part of the preparation but as part of your actual ocean crossing-: Twice so far, in a transat, we chafed through our spinnaker halyard, at the top of our mast (see picture). We learned to, every day, tighten or loosen up the spinnaker halyard a bit, changing the point where the halyard is "frictioning" at the top of the mast. A halyard chafing through (with a bang), with your beautiful spinnaker graciously falling into the sea and wrapping itself around your keel and rudder, can cause a major disaster or at least have you loose/damage your spinnaker.

Autopilot

Bless those who sail an ocean passage by hand-steering, but "most of us" use an auto-pilot, which, if well tuned, will steer far better and longer than a human. When is the last time, your autopilot was inspected? Do we have spare pieces for the autopilot, or a backup? A wind-vane (e.g. Hydrovane) mechanical autopilot is an excellent alternative to an electric autopilot: consumes less electricity, gives you a backup for your electrical auto-pilot system (and gives you a spare rudder too). I am a fan of windvanes!

Electricity - power management

Talking about "autopilots": if your autopilot is electrical (and not a mechanical wind-vane), your "Bob" (as we used to call our autopilot), will be one of the main sources of electricity consumption. Tip: most electrical autopilots can be "tuned" to helm less aggressively in calmer weather. Reducing your trim rate, rudder gain and counter rudder (or whatever those parameters are called on your autopilot) when you have less wind, will not only reduce your electricity consumption by A LOT, but will also reduce the wear and tear on your autopilot system. You will have to use more aggressive autopilot parameters when sailing in strong winds or bigger waves, though: too slow reaction time/helm correction in heavier weather might have your boat broaching. And broaching in big waves/strong winds hardly ever ends up well...
Back to "electricity": Atop of your autopilot add the consumption of fridge, freezer, pumps, radar, communications (Starlink! - see further), navigation, inverter, charging devices, watermaker etc etc etc ... and it is highly likely that whatever battery charging solar panels, wind generator and hydro-chargers you have, to charge your batteries when doing day-cruising, will not be able to keep up with the demand for electricity on an ocean passage, sailing for 24h/day, for weeks on end.
Wind generators are not very efficient when sailing downwind. The efficiency of hydrogenerators is questionable - and sooo many buddy boats we sailed with on ocean passages had structural issues with hydro-generators getting hammered by the ocean waves, coming in from aft.
The efficiency of your solar panels might be limited in hazy/cloudy conditions, if not shaded from the sun by your mainsail/rigging.
Choice is yours how you want to top off your house batteries: do you have a built-in generator aboard? Will you charge from the alternator on the main engine (maybe not a good idea if you have a turbo-charged engine, as charging batteries is typically done on lower RPM without engaging the turbo).
On several boats we sailed across oceans, we had a small 0.9-1 KVA standalone generator we used to charge the batteries at night. A cheap and effective solution.
Oh, and those two 5-year-old 120 Ah lead-acid house batteries you used -up to now- for day cruising in the Med, might not be enough to hold the charge or keep up with the power consumption needed for a longer ocean passage, especially if you cycled (discharged) them too deep in the past, even once: deep-cycled lead-acid batteries typically only hold 50% or less charge than their spec'd capacity.
The good news is that it is pretty easy to calculate your electricity consumption versus your battery capacity versus your charging capacity. So,... make the calculation, and figure out an efficient and cost effective solution to charge those batteries!

Water - water management

Sure you can cross an ocean using the capacity of your normal 200l water tank and some spare jerrycans. It will demand strict water-usage "rules", though. Better if you have a water-maker, and better still if it is built-in, in the boat, with its saltwater in-take through a built-in seacock. A "portable" watermaker, with an intake via a floating tube, did not work well in our previous passages: we never found a way to ensure the intake tube stayed well under water. The intake sucked air bubbles (might have been cavitation bubbles), which can damage the membranes, and made any "water making session", a labour-intense and tiring venture, if ever successful.

Emergency and safety equipment

I do insist on a (properly registered and serviced) EPIRB (satellite emergency beacon), serviced life raft, "throw overboard" MOB buoy ("life sling") and a Dan Buoy. Properly serviced quality self-inflating life jackets (PFD's) are a must (standard "rule" on past crossings was: PFD's on, from sunset to sunrise and any winds above 20 knots). Preferably PFDs are to be fitted with MOB (VHF-AIS auto-deployed location device) and proper tether lines (Oh, I had long discussions with the ARC safety crew, whether 2-point or 3-point tether lines are better. I stick to 2-point tether lines). I like crew to wear PLB's (Personal Locator Beacons) at night - these are small personal EPIRB devices, allowing to send a satellite distress signal to a coastal rescue station, when overboard and out of VHF/AIS range.
((And yes, rules #1, #2 and #3 on a boat are all the same: "DO NOT fall overboard"))

Navigation equipment

While you can cross an ocean single-handed on a raft with a paper chart and without any auxiliary equipment, I do prefer, on any yacht I sail on for thousands of miles, to have a good chart plotter system - preferably also with a screen at the helm position - with an AIS - Automated Identification System - receiver/transmitter connected to it. Hardly any boat sails across oceans, these days, without AIS.
And a radar, even if only run e.g. once per hour (to save power), can make a passage more safe at night. Not all boats (referring to those !!%%$$!! many small Chinese fishing boats we crossed paths with in our last transat...) transmit an IAS signal, AND a radar will help you to spot rain squalls building up behind you, allowing you to dose your spinnaker in time, or change course to avoid the squall.

Long-range comms

Being a radio-amateur ("ham"), I love HF radio, but long gone are its days as the main long-range comms system on a yacht. "Starlink", is the new norm now: affordable and reliable. And useful for safety, social communications, and downloading weather routing etc... When, last year, our fellow ARC+ boat "Hilma" lost their mast 3 days out of Cape Verdes, one hour after their distress Whatsapp message to the group chat via Starlink, three other ARC+ boats were standing by her for assistance. Do I need to say more? And beyond: my family and friends loved my daily updates during our crossing, via pictures, videos, microblogs, and progress plots.
Beyond Starlink, as a contingency, a small portable satcom device (Garmin Inreach or Iridium Go), is advisable. Not cheap though, comparing their bandwidth/functionality with Starlink, but a good fallback. And -God forgive- something you can take with you in a life raft.

Insurance

There is a more-than-a-fair chance your Med cruising insurance e.g. will not be valid for an ocean crossing. What insurance do you have for the crossing? Insurance fees are notoriously high for ocean crossings, but so are the fees to rescue your yacht and/or crew in case something goes wrong. See also the ARC-chapter.

And now moving onto more "non-boat" topics.

To ARC or not to ARC.

Every year about 100 boats cross the Atlantic in the ARC+ flotilla from Las Palmas to Grenada with a stopover in the Cape Verdes (Mindelo). 200 more boats cross from Las Palmas to Rodney Bay Marina in Saint Lucia about a week later. A flotilla of 20-25 boats cross every year as part of the Viking Explorers flotilla...
I did two transat crossings with the ARC/ARC+, one with the Viking Explorers and three crossing "by ourselves".
Participating in the ARC/ARC+ is not cheap. But it has its clear advantages: It is nice to cross the ocean as part of a like-minded group of fellow sailors and the ARC organizers are great in creating that social environment to meet up with fellow ocean crossers. AND the ARC crew create a whole safety/experience-based environment to "chaperonne/mentor" participants into a safe passage.
Once the fleet assembles in Las Palmas, they do safety inspections, run a ton of seminars on topics ranging from "ocean fishing" to "weather routing" or "downwind sailing", organize social events, day-care for the kids (so their parents can prepare their boat), facilitate customs and other administration, help with booking your berth in the marinas, etc..
During the actual passage, they are super-efficient and professional in providing assistance in case of emergencies or incidents. All-in-all VERY well run, and my utmost respect goes to the ARC/ARC+ "yellow shirts"!. Over the years, I often heard a lot of criticism of the ARC, from non-ARC-ers, but I am yet to hear from anyone who sailed with the ARC/ARC+, who thought it was not worth the money.
The Viking Explorers is a similar flotilla group. Less formal than the ARC, with less boats (20-25 boats for each crossing). But I have been impressed by the support they gave to boats crossing..
When we did not cross as part of the ARC/ARC+/Viking Explorers, we kinda created our own social network of buddy boats who we picked up sailing months prior in the Med or in preparing the crossing, and we kinda created a virtual buddy-boats' flotilla, with many parties held in our "assembly points" of Gibraltar, Gracioso, Las Palmas and Mindelo. But it is up to you to engage and/or to organize.
Beyond the main transat E-W transat passage, the ARC also organizes group W-E transat crossings, the "yearly migration" from the UK to Las Palmas, and the "World ARC" - a global crossing.
One thing to check out, though is: Many insurance companies give a significant premium discount when you are part of the ARC (or ARC+), as the ARC rules and inspections are rigorous. In our past crossing, our skipper said that his crossing's insurance premium discount, as an ARC+ participant, was bigger than the actual fee he paid for his ARC+ participation. Keep in mind, though, that in order to pass the ARC/ARC+ safety inspection, you might have to buy/install some extra stuff (and spares) which you had not planned for, thus incurring extra costs (also for the sake of extra safety of course).

Food... ah.. Food... Food management.

I hope your yacht has a fridge. A freezer is a great "plus": Frozen pre-prepped meals for those "difficult" days, are heaven-sent when the boat is rolling left-right so heavily, it is hell even just to cut those ever-rolling and escaping veggies, leave alone to stand on your feet next to the stove, or keep the boiling water in the pot even on a swivel stove....
Lacking a freezer, and maybe confined to a small fridge: manage your provisions and your meals well. Some fruits and veggies (in those swaying nets!) will last for almost 2 weeks (potatoes, cabbages, carrots, oranges?), and some will last only for a few days (any soft fruits and veggies, bread,...) and are best kept in a fridge. Some food, e.g. cold cuts for lunch sandwiches, meat, etc. is best kept in the fridge and if well managed, will last well into your passage.
We keep 3 tiers of food and store accordingly: (1) short lasting: to be consumed in the first week - in the fridge (2) longer lasting: fresh food to be consumed in the first two weeks kept in nets and (3) dry storage and for ever lasting: canned, jarred or dry foods (or frozen in the freezer).
God bless you if you can bake your own bread/pizza/cake/cookies. After two weeks at sea, the cook becomes the hero. And bless the cook who can dish out a savoury meal after two weeks at sea without a fridge! And heaven-sent is the smell of freshly-baked bread or pizza a week into a wild crossing!

Itinerary and weather routing

Moving on.., but no less important though! No matter the safety equipment, how well the yacht is equipped, with the best cook and food, if I can not agree on a sound (and in my mind "the right") overall itinerary with the skipper, I will hesitate to step aboard.
First of all, good weather routing software/apps are a must. Forecasts to be downloaded daily. I swear by Predictwind's ECMWF forecast (with the GFS model as a backup), for wind, swell, precipitation and CAPE (lightning!) forecasts. AND I like a way to download those forecasts - in high resolution and over a wider area - fast! ("Hurray to Starlink!" - higher res forecasts over a larger time-period and larger area via Iridium Go take forever, argh!...)
But even then, a solid overall routing plan is a must, avoiding the turbulent areas, favouring the -maybe slower- trusted routings. E.g. In an E-W transat, I favour the longer route to go down to 12°-11°N or even 10°N to avoid wind-still or even upwind turbulent areas. Longer, but safer, is what I like.
Note: I take Predictwind's automated weather routing as "advice", but always make up my own mind what route I want to take, based on an overall weather systems in a wide area.

Emergency procedures and basic rules

I have crewed in trans-ocean sailing yachts where the safety briefing took 5 hours and on other yachts where we never got a safety briefing.
I like to sail on a yacht where the basic emergency procedures and rules are clear. E.g.: Safety jackets on between sunset and sunrise and with windspeeds above 20 knots. No-one on the bow at night unless a 2nd person is present in the cockpit..., etc
But also basic procedures like "what to do in case of MOB ('(Wo)Man Over Board' - my nightmare scenario), and a clear agreement on the chain of command if the skipper becomes incapacitated, are a must. Or even more basic: what are the rules on the consuming alcohol onboard? On my past passages, we either agreed on "no alcohol" or "one beer only at sunset".
Or more basic: in case of emergency: who to contact on what telephone number, in what way, giving what details, for what purpose?

Crew and watch systems.

Sure you can sail across any ocean single-handed, or short-handed. This might not be the most comfortable and enjoyable crossing you had, though. Depends what you look for and prioritize: excitement, comfort, or safety,..
I sailed a 72ft racing cruiser with only me and the skipper. And I loved it. For 5 days. Not sure if I'd like to do this for 2-3 weeks in a row, with 4 hours on and 4 hours off watches (and cooking, repairing, cleaning in-between)...
An ocean crossing should be an adventure to enjoy, according to me. Running with two people for days and weeks in a row, might not allow you to fully enjoy the unique experience an ocean crossing offers you. Crossing shorthanded is perfectly "doable", but is that what you want?
An additional note for families with young kids: I met loads of boats with only a mum and dad, and 2-3 younger kids, who cross oceans with the goal of making this "a true family experience". My hats off to them, but if I were them: I would take 1-2 additional crew on board: If not for safety (in case anything happens to one of the parents, or one of them is not feeling too well for some days), then it would be to also spend more time with the kids - who need to be kept safe, and "busy" too: Ocean crossings are typically very boring for younger kids. Talking to many "family-cruisers" with kids, after their passage, most regretted not taking some additional crew onboard.
Ideally, I'd say a crew of 4 sailors is a good quorum. This will allow for a watch system of e.g. 4 hours on, 8 hours off watches, with one of the crew, every 4th day, responsible for the "mother watch": cooking the main meal, cleaning and general house keeping. More crew than 4, is a luxury - and will need more food/water/space,... Less will be more stressful. Your choice to make.
Apart from the "system" of keeping watches etc.., I am picky on how the crew is selected. Are they actually sailors? Have they lived in closed quarters with others before? How do they handle stress? What are their personal goals for this crossing? Are they fit? Do they get sea-sick? The smaller the crew, the more critical the people you select for a crossing. Luckily for you, dear skipper, there are LOADS of people looking for a crew-spot, sharing the crossing's food cost, who are very capable (and often ocean-crossing-experienced) sailors.
As a skipper: select your crew well. As crew: select your boat well, as, believe me, it is the "people" which will make this crossing a heaven or a hell for you.

I hope this basic checklist helps you in preparing for safe(r) and enjoyable ocean passage! The better prepared, the more you will enjoy those fabulous ocean sunsets, the stars at night, the pod of dolphins swimming at your bow, with the wind in your hair and the salt on your skin. And that is what ocean passages are all about: to enjoy a life's unique experience!

Sailing a MOD70 - Speed is a drug..

2024-05-31T12:09:00.009+01:00

I thought "my need for speed" was out of my system, after sailing on Sisi, the Volvo Ocean 65 (VO65) ocean racer during the February RORC Caribbean600 regatta in Antigua.
But then an opportunity came up to crew on DrekanEnergy, a 70 foot MOD70 trimaran, during a regatta in Bretagne (France). And I could not resist.

MOD70's are amongst the world's fastest open ocean racing boats, only to be beaten in performance (but by a small margin) by "Ultims", 100ft trimarans, who currently hold the world record of the fastest circumnavigation around the globe.
MOD70's are full carbon racing beasts, built with only one purpose in mind: record-breaking speed.
21 meters long, 17 meters wide, 29m tall kanting/rotating mast, with 3 hulls, semi-foiling dagger boards, weighing only 6 tons.

When this class of boats was launched, it was agreed only 7 of them would ever be built. Ours was the first to be launched. Two of the 7 are currently de-commissioned, and over the past 6 months, I have "met" or raced against all four other MOD70's which are still racing: "Argo", "Zoulou", "Maserati" and "Limosa-the Famous Project".

And sailing this MOD70 changed my perspective of "sailing".

During our first training day we had lovely weather, with "only" about 15 knots of wind, but from the moment we hoisted the sails, I realized what this beast-of-a-boat could do: With the least efforts, on that beautiful training day, we went faster than the wind,... almost all the time: With 15 knots of wind, without pressure on the boat or crew, we flew at 23 knots boat speed easily.

For the sailors amongst you: even when sailing at 170° True Wind Angle (TWA), because of the speed of the boat, the Apparent Wind Angle (AWA) was 50°-60°, so this boat never really sails in a downwind configuration: the apparent wind always comes from "forward". Well, same principle as the foiling AC75 America's cups boats: you don't see those flying spinnakers or other "traditional" downwind sails neither. Same on a MOD70!

Contrary to the VO65, where we trimmed the sails continuously, on the MOD70, we hardly trimmed the sails: the boat speed was trimmed purely by the tiller, changing the boat's angle to the wind slightly. As she is so light, the boat speed would pick up 5-10 kts in just a few seconds purely by steering her with slight different wind angles. Doing so, she lifted her windward hull out of the water, and when putting on more pressure, lifting also the center hull up, mainly sailing on her downwind hull and semi-foiling daggerboard.

I thought the below-deck space was limited on Sisi, the VO65, but inside the MOD70, there was far less space: the two outer hulls are empty, and the center hull was really narrow - stretching out my arms, I could touch both sides of the hull with my arms stretched out. Aft in the center hull, there was some storage area, a small stove and a mini-sink. Midships, there was a navigation desk and forward she had three bunks and sail storage space. And that was it, basically..

The next day, the day of the regatta, the weather was completely different than on the training day: it rained and it was heavily overcast, with a low pressure front moving over. We started off in about 20 knots of wind, but it picked up fast. During the regatta, it gusted up to 37 knots. "Normally", when we "cruise-sail", we would not even have left port with that forecast, but wait,... not only were we leaving "safe shelter", but on top of that,we were going to do a regatta in this weather!?!

We had a great start, battling it out with several other big trimarans, including "Actual", a 100ft ULTIM trimaran. But we beat them all at the starting line. This starting line battle made some great photo shots as we picked up speed and all trimarans started to fly over the waves on only one hull, ours in front. With the full professional crew the competitors had, they passed us, 30 minutes into the race. But even that was a thrill to see them racing past us in "full push mode": These are not sailing boats, these are ABSOLUTE beasts,...!

You might think the AC75 America's Cup boats are the ultimate in fast sailing? Pffft, think again: not only do these MOD70/Ultim100 trimarans match the speeds of the AC75s, but the America's Cup boats those are "coastal match racing boats", and would not last very long on the open ocean.

As the wind picked up, we peaked up to 39 knots of boat speed, which was totally and absolutely nuts. I never sailed at those speeds: on Sisi, we peaked 29 knots for a short while, but this MOD70 was constantly flying at 25 knots, peaking easily over 30 knots, with a top speeds of 35+ knots.

Now you need to understand what this means: as we flew through the regatta course, at 25-30-35 knots boat speed, and with a true wind of 30-35 knots, this means, when sailing upwind, the apparent wind speed easily hits 60-70 knots, which is about 110-130 km/h. So the wind and rain hits you at 110-130 km/h. It was the first time I sailed, where some of the crew had to wear goggles to protect their eyes. With water and spray splashing us, all crew were in full foul-weather gear as our outer layer was soaked within minutes. Luckily, with the weather gear we had, our inner layers stayed dry, but... it was cold, and the rain drops hit our faces as if someone was throwing pebbles at us.
It made me feel like I was standing upright on the roof of a car on a highway, with the wind, spray and rain hitting my body at 110-130km/h, with the car jerking left and right the whole time...

And while the MOD70 healed far less than the VO65's 30°-35° heal, I also found the MOD70 to be very stable - compared to Sisi, the VO65: She would have less of an up-down longitude pitch, but there was quite a bit of lateral jerking, as the helmsman moved the tiller left-right to pick up speed. So, one really had to hold on to "something", when moving on deck.
Well "on deck" is relative, as we only had a rather small solid aft platform, the width of the center hull, and all the rest of the boat, the space between the hulls, was one big trampoline. And one does not "walk" over trampolines at that speed: you half-jump over it, while water is rushing below your feet at 60-70 km/h.

It was bloody cold, bloody wet, bloody exciting, and bloody challenging. Especially for me, as I had hurt my back two weeks before and was rather weary not to injure my back again while on the boat. But the 4 "amateur sailors" like me, were well taken care of by the 5 pro-crew, under the guidance of Eric, the skipper.
Contrary to sailing on Sisi where I had some "oh-oooh this is no good...!" moments (when we had two almost-broaches in the middle of the night), I never felt the MOD70 was pushed to its limits, mostly thanks to Eric "protecting" the amateur crew onboard. But it is a weird feeling, seeing the windward hull lifting out of the water by 1-2-3 meters and seeing the water rush under your feet, below the trampoline, at that speed.

And the rush of speed was even more visible, looking behind the boat, looking at the traces we left in our wake. To be honest, I might have become slightly numb, as I did not feel or sense much difference between 25 and 35 knots of boat speed. Both speeds, sensed like "FAST"!. The only big difference was when sailing upwind versus downwind, as the perception of windspeed is quite different: upwind, the wind, rain and spray hit you with twice the speed as when we were going downwind.

We finished the 40 miles regatta course in 2 hours flat, just behind the three other trimarans. All other (non-trimaran) boats finished the regatta after 4 hours racing, minimum. By that time, we were already well underway to our home port: After the race, we sailed another 80 miles, back to "Port-la-Forêt", the base for Drekanenergy, our boat. And that distance, we sailed in just under 4 hours without pushing the boat. Quite a difference compared to the charterboat we sailed some years ago: To cover that distance on a "normal boat!, one would need about 16 hours....

On the way back to our home port, the wind picked up and the Atlantic swell became bigger: this coast is unprotected from the open ocean swells, and it was impressive to see how the MOD70 sailed the waves. It was sooo different, from sailing in transatlantic waves on "slower" boats, where the 3-4 meter waves would run faster than the boat, catch up, lift the boat up and down...
DrekanEnergy moved almost 2x faster than the waves, so we just fleeewwww over them, skimming the top of the waves. Another first in my life: sailing faster than the waves.

I am not sure if I (finally) got that "need of speed" out of my system now. I realize that "speed is a drug", and while I still enjoy cruising and sailing more leisure-ly, from time to time, I do need "my shot", "my kick", "my fix"...

One of the projects I am currently looking into, is to sail a MOD70 in a transatlantic race. Would it not be a thrill to sail a beast like this in 7-8 days across the Atlantic, compared to the past 3-4 weeks it took us?

If you are a sailor and interested in crewing on DrekanEnergy, check out their website.

PS: In one of the pictures, you see the French flag on our stern, torn up. Well, that small flag was brand new at the start of the regatta. We literally sailed the flag to bits :-) :-)

Behind the scenes: sailing on a VO65 ocean racer...

2024-04-29T13:21:00.005+01:00

On an ocean racer, everything is built for speed. The boat is stripped of any comfort. There are no cabins, no beds, no shower, no toilet, no personal space to put your stuff. There is no cooking done on board.

The only personal space you have: each crew has a hook - this hook #7 was mine - to hang your safety jacket and maybe a small bag with your sailing gloves and head torch.

There is no toilet.
Forward below deck, without doors or curtains to close or give privacy, there is "the throne".
It is a carbon fibre bowl (everything on this boat is carbon, to save weight). You can do pipi in it (manually pump water in and manually pump it out. Electrical pumps would add more weight), though most crew (except our female crew), pee standing at the stern of the boat.
If you need to do a #2, you strap a biodegradable bag over the throne bowl, do your thing, make a knot in the bag, put it in a bucket, climb on deck (holding your "bag" in one hand and hanging on for life on anything you can grab to hold your balance), and toss the bag overboard (preferably downwind, otherwise the bag with "your thing" ends up in the boat).
PS: The throne "swivels" on two hinges. So, as our boat heals a lot, the throne stays horizontal through the swivel. I have never done "my thing on a swing" before... There is a "first" for everything in life, I guess.

There is no cooking done on board.
There is one small "cooking" platform (which I got to know intimately as I hit my head hard on its corner while pulling the gennaker belowdecks) with 4 mini compartments: A very small sink with salt water and fresh water pumps, two small compartments (left and right), where crew water bottles are stored. And in the middle, there is a small camping gas stove, which can be used to warm up like 2 cups of water in a small pot. Even for that small amount of water, it takes 10 minutes to heat it up.

We don't take the heating pot off the camping cooker as pouring hot water on a healing/moving boat is a hazard. So to heat water, we (manually) pump some fresh water in a cup, and pour that in the pan. Light the camping burner. When the water is warm, turn burner off (important, don't forget!), and with a cup, scoop up the hot water from the pan into a drinking cup for instant coffee, or into a freeze-dried food bag.

So we never warm up meals in the pan... For warm meals, we warm water, and pour it into a freeze-dried food bag. Close it for 10 minutes and then use a spoon to eat it from the bag. We had good quality, high calorie freeze-dried food on board. Goulash, spaghetti bolognese, chicken curry, mac-and-cheese, vegetarian pasta, meat-potato mash, etc... All of these were stored in a grab bag.
The pro-crew of our boat knew exactly which freeze-dried food to go for: They knew exactly which bags had the highest calorie and tastiest meals. As we were burning so many calories, we were eating almost every 6 hours. I never drunk that much water in my life, neither. As you are sweating a lot, we were -eh- quite active and we were sailing in the tropics, we needed to drink a lot. I think I consumed 3 litres of water per 24 hours. Note: to save weight, the fresh water tank was only 40 litres, so the water maker was running several times a day.

There is no fridge or freezer on board. So your "source of food", are 3 bags: One with all freeze-dried food, one with all snacks (protein bars, chocolate bars, cookies, nuts, muesli..) and one bag with longer lasting fruits (apples and oranges mostly).

I said I know "the small cooking platform" intimately: One time while pulling a big gennaker sail from the deck into the storage area below deck below, I was standing in this area with the cooking platform, "receiving" the sail bag. And instead of the bag coming down half a meter in a go, the boat hit a wave and the 200 kg bag came down 3 meters in a go. I was pushed off my feet, and landed 3 meters further back, slapping the back of my head against the corner of this cooking platform. Luckily, on this boat, there are no sharp corners, to avoid crew to get hurt. It was quite a dive, but apart from a bump on my head, and a damaged ego, I was not hurt...

There is no washing or showering on board.
There is just no space for it, nor can we afford the weight. The small sink we use to rinse our spoons and cups, we also use to brush our teeth, and splash our face.
If you want to clean yourself a bit more thoroughly than cleaning your teeth or splashing your face, you need to use a small cloth from a box of wet cleansing cloths. And that is it.

In the picture you see the "entrance" of the below decks, as you come down from the deck. Left and right the hooks for our safety jackets, left and right each 2 bunks. Grab bags for freeze-dried foods, snacks and fruits. Middle under white cover, the engine (mostly used to come in-out of the harbour, and to charge the batteries). The cooking/washing sink, water bottle storage and bags on the wall with instant coffee, sugar, dry powder milk, some plates, spoons, paper towels.

PS: this picture gives the wrong impression as if it were bright below decks. It is an enhanced picture. During the day or night, it is dark, like really dark. During night, there is only a very faint red light in each compartment, so we use head torches with red lights (no white light allowed on this boat at night, with one exception: to look at the sails while trimming).

This boat, below decks, is really, mostly, empty space.
So, below decks, there are three compartments: As you come down from the deck, the central area with 4 bunks, the "cooking area", food storage, engine cover (oh and also the window to look at the kanting keel): the aft area with 8 bunks, navigation station and media desk.
And then forward, apart from "the throne" (our substitute for a toilet), there is nothing. Just empty space. That is where we store the sails. It is just one black carbon fibre space-ship like area, with no light. And where sound from the deck (grinding winches) and waves hitting the hull, are amplified...

A big black whole of nothingness. But exciting, by itself, as it give you the sound, touch and feel of just mere raw optimization for.... speed.

There are no beds on this boat.
Below decks, there are three main compartments:
In the middle, as climb down from the deck, you have the space you saw in previous pictures: the cooking platform, our hooks for safety jackets, 2x two bunks, food grab bags, access to engine and kanting keel.
Forward is an empty compartment with "the throne" (substitute for a toilet) and sail stowing area.

Aft is a space with 2x 4 bunks (4 on each side), and in the middle, the navigation desk, and aft of that, the "media" desk. Both desks' seats are on one side: a two person swing, which keeps you horizontal somehow.
So, in the aft compartment there are 8 bunks and 4 bunks in the central area. The bunks are a bare-bone frame of carbon with a woven mat. The angle of the frames is adjustable, so, if you sleep windward, you can adjust a rope, fixed to the ceiling to basically tilt your bunk 30-40°, avoiding you to fall out and hurting yourself.
The 2x 2 bunks in the central area, are slightly higher from the bottom, so they also have straps, as in that space, you need to strap yourself in as you would get really hurt if you fall off your bunk when we tack or gybe, or when an awkward wave would hit us.

Below each bunch set, is an area you can store your personal bag. But as there are no compartments in the stowage area, all bags are on top of each other. So as each crew grabs their bag, to get their stuff, your own bag keeps on moving within the stowage area.
As we are 17 crew with only 12 bunks, we are "hot bunking" (sharing the same bunks): no-one has a dedicated bunk. When you come off watch, you look for a free bunk, and climb into it. That by itself is a bit of an adventure as the boat is often healing 30° to 35°. So if your free bunk is the upper one, you step on the side of the storage area, step on the side of the lower bunk (where someone is already sleeping in, trying not to hit or step on them), heave yourself into your bunk, adjust the angle of the bunk with a rope, and hope for the best. After your rest, you take all of your personal belongings, and clear the bunk.

As an interesting note: this boat does not have a "flat floor" or floor boards. The bottom - which you use to move around - is the actual hull, and is slanted. And it gets wet. So moving around forward and aft, below decks, is an "art" to hold your footing, trying not to twist your ankle, keep your footing, holding on with your arms to whatever you can hold on to...

We run on 3 hours on-shift and 6 hours off-shift. But when we do maneuvers (tack, gybe, hoist or drop sails), we needed to have all hands on decks. So you never know, in your "off" period when you will be called on deck. And normally we only get a 5 minute warning before any "hands-on-deck"... This might be during the day or in the middle of the night. So it can be quite a scramble to get ready.
Many times, when I knew manoeuvres were coming up (as in this regatta, we were sailing inbetween islands and course markers, I could estimate how long it would take until we reached the next manoeuvre), I just did not undress nor did I even take off my safety jacket during a rest period. I just grabbed my sleeping bag compressed into a tight bag, from my personal storage bag, which I used as a pillow cushion, and tried to rest. I never "slept" during our 3 days regatta. I kinda dozed off a bit, as a "all hands on deck" call could come any minute.

The compartments, where the bunks are, apart from a very faint red light, are completely dark. Dark during the day, darker-er at night. Apart from using our red-light head torches, no other light can be used. So sometimes it is a bit of a challenge to find your own storage bag in the stowage compartment, and go through your stuff, at night... I was looking for my spare socks in my bag, one night, as mine were soaked when our bow took a nose-dive. But I never found them in my bag...

The central area bunks were the least popular to sleep in, as this was also the space where crew came down from deck and went up, prepared their freeze-dried food, dressed and undressed, so loads of red light torches, people talking, bumping into your bunk etc... It was also the area which was used to push sails up on deck, and drop sails down below. So "a lot of activity"...

Note to be made: as our below-decks was pretty hollow, and housed in a carbon fibre hull, it acted as a sound-amplifier, a boom-box. Every trim, or sound made from the deck got amplified below decks. But it did not bother me, the sounds belowdecks were less than on the catamaran we sailed across the Atlantic 2 months ago!

To cat or not to cat? My experience crossing an ocean on a catamaran.

2024-04-25T12:13:00.008+01:00

While I have been sailing yachts for over 20 years, I always sailed on monohulls and never sailed on a cat, a catamaran. Came last winter, I finally had the opportunity to crew on a catamaran from South Portugal via the Canaries and Cape Verde to Grenada in the Caribbean. And that gave me an equal opportunity to compare sailing on a cat versus monohulls.

Just as no two types of monohulls are the same, neither are two types of cats the same. Some cats are geared towards cruising and comfort, while others are more performance oriented, or even racing cats. So my reflections are limited to that single type of cat I sailed on, and are - I realize - highly subjective.

The cat I sailed on, was a cruising cat: SV Sturdeee (yep that's with 3 e's - like "echo-echo-echoooo") is a 45 foot Lagoon 450F. The "F" stands for "Fly bridge", which is an option for this type of Lagoon: The fly bridge is a superstructure on top of the main saloon, acting as the main helming position. It features a solid roof and a large bench - and of course the helm, all navigation instruments plus all winches and clutches to handle the running rigging.

Sturdeee was about five years old, purchased two years earlier by its current owners Ian and Dee, a pilot and flight attendant couple. - And it was interesting to experience how their professional experience also translated in how Ian and Dee sailed, maintained and managed the boat. By itself, this is a golden tip if you want to crew on a boat and with a crew or owners you never sailed before: their past professional background DOES profoundly affect the way the boat is set up, and run. Which, on Sturdeee, was a good thing! :-)

When I stepped on Sturdeee for the first time, in Faro (South Portugal) mid September last year, I was immediately impressed: A 45ft catamaran is big! Sturdeee features a large saloon and galley (with three fridges/freezers - what a luxury!), generator, two engines, a large "cockpit" (aft deck sheltered seating area), a large foredeck seating area, a sundeck, 3 double cabins (each with their own bathroom or "head"), plus an extra cabin used as work/storage area.

This immediate highlighted the first (and obvious) difference between a 45 ft cat versus a monohull of the same size: A cat has MUCH more space (seating, cooking, sleeping, stowage). Pretty obvious, knowing that instead of one hull, you have two - and that, by itself, already +- doubles your space compared to a monohull. And on top of that, you have a large platform connecting the two hulls. That platform holds the space for the galley/saloon, aft cockpit, and, on Sturdeee, also the flybridge.

We were kinda joking that Sturdeee felt like an apartment with 5 floors: "Deeper down", slightly below sea-level, you had (floor 1) the 3 cabins and bathrooms. You take one set of stairs up, and you come into the saloon/galley and aft seating area - the cockpit (floor 2). From there, you take a set of stairs to come to the main deck (floor 3). And from there, some more stairs to get onto the flight deck (floor 4). From there, there were more steps to climb onto the roof of the fly bridge where one could reach the boom and the mainsail running rigging (floor 5), about 4-5 meters above the water level...

I had never sailed on a yacht with that many different "floors"... And it might sound funny, but in our passage, we sometimes "lost track", of where our crew was: "Where did Ian go? Last seen in the galley, but have not seen him for 30 minutes - maybe he is on the aft deck? or maybe he is in one of the cabins? or maybe on top of the fly bridge?"... Oh, look, he is sitting on the sunbeds on the foredeck!

Apart from the space on a cat, another more obvious observation: a cat always has two engines, one in each hull. So you basically have "a spare" if one engine dies.. But that also means double engine maintenance, and maintenance costs...

For two years Ian and Dee had prepared the boat for this ocean passage, and their planned upcoming cruising years in the Caribbean and Pacific: She was VERY well equipped for her upcoming adventure: redundant satellite comms (Starlink and an Iridium Go), plenty of solar panels (flexible panels atop of the fly bridge and solid panels aft above the davits holding the dinghy), water maker, large house battery bank, generator,...

This showed another (obvious) difference between a cat versus a monohull: As you have more top-deck surface, it is easier to fix plenty of solar panels to charge your batteries. Important, as "electricity management" is quite crucial while cruising: the more "systems" (fridges, freezers, satcoms, autopilot) you have, the more you depend on a reliable electricity supply (and charging systems).

Beyond that, what impressed me the most, was that Sturdeee looked as if she was brand new. When I first stepped onto her, she looked "spic-and-span". Everything looked like she came out of the factory a month ago: the standing and running rigging, the deck, the interior, the engines,...: I could not see a single scratch, sign of rust, or even a bit dirt.

Sure, when I boarded her, Sturdeee had not sailed a lot up to that point - leave alone sailing long distances... But still, a vessel of five years old would typically already show "some of her age". Kudos to Ian and Dee, who clearly took pride in maintaining "their home" in a more than perfect shape.
I translated that observation to the owners' previous professional lives: Ian being a pilot and Dee being a flight attendant. Pilots tend to care for technical systems and details, while flight attendants take pride in a tidy and well run cabin with happy passengers :-)

Another short sidestep here: immediate impressions when stepping on a yacht for the first time, are important: In two minutes, looking around, you can see 95% of how a boat is maintained and up-kept. While those are more "superficial" observations, most of the time, this also reflects on how the boat's "inner guts", which you can't see at first glance, are maintained and serviced.

And that, by itself, contributes to (the feeling of) "safety" aboard a vessel. Important for me, as I came on board the evening of Sept 11, and we set off on the first leg of our ocean passage from Portugal to the Canaries, the next morning. So I would be sailing in an open ocean on a vessel I did not know, and with a crew I did not know neither. But I felt totally comfortable in slipping the mooring lines on Sturdeee, based on those positive first impressions...

As we left Faro to Lanzarote in the Canaries, the morning of September 12th, motoring in initial light winds, and gradually hoisting more sails, some of the main "on passage" differences between a monohull and a cat came up.

Sturdeee's "out of the box" sails consisted of a genoa (a 120% genoa if I remember well), originally sheeted through cars on the foredeck close to the mast, and a heavily baton-ed stiff mainsail with a broad top. In addition (not part of the standard sail-package), she had a Code-0 sail (which we never used as we never had upwind conditions during our passage) and a Parasailor wing/spinnaker, which would become our downwind powerhouse.

As the genoa was originally rigged, with the sheets running via the cars on the foredeck, in front of the fly bridge, there was no way to trim the genoa for a good broad reach or down-wind sail: The genoa sheeting was running too close to midships, which inhibited us from keeping the sail "open" in a broad reach or sailing downwind.
Luckily, Ian had planned for that, and we ran the genoa sheet via a home-made barber hauler through an aft block, onto a winch on the flight deck. That by itself, was a winner for our mostly down-wind transatlantic sailing, allowing the genoa to open up more. But it also meant a bit more work when tacking: each time we tacked or gybed, we had to move the barber hauler to the other side of the boat. A little extra effort for a lot of gain...

That, was not our main challenge. Our main challenge was more related to the mainsail: As we sailed further south towards the Canaries, with Sturdeee's stiff, battoned and large mainsail, it became clear that raising, dropping or reefing the mainsail while sailing mostly down wind, as we did, was a challenge. A challenge even more so, as the reefing lines on Sturdeee were very stiff and just a bit too thick and stiff, making it difficult to feed them through a number of bends (at the mast, the goose neck and at the end of the boom). This meant that the reefing lines had to be manually fed at the mast and at the end of the boom... So for any mainsail changes, Ian had climb onto the roof of the fly bridge, about 4-5 meters above the water line, to work on the main sail. A manoeuvre I did not feel happy about: Seeing Ian standing that high up, working at the end of the boom, with no secure place to hook his tether line onto, always gave me an uneasy feeling in my tummy. The more so as, to hoist, drop or reef the main sail, we had to motor into the wind, straight into the open ocean waves, which made Sturdeee buck heavily.

Later on, we refined any manoeuvre involving working on the main sail, by blocking the boom with two preventers, but still having anyone work on a sail 4-5 meters above the water line, does not make me happy... And any main sail changes, something which on any other boat I sailed on before, could be done single-handed, on Sturdeee, involved a "all hands on deck" call for our 5 crew: Ian on top of the fly bridge, Dee at the helm, and Lana, Michele and me, alternating on the main sheet and reefing lines in the cockpit and at the mast, and managing the preventers...
That is why, as we sailed along in our ocean passage, we were hesitant to do any mainsail changes during night time...

I have mentioned before that the mainsail reefing lines, as typically installed on a Lagoon were too stiff and too thick to be able to feed through the goose neck on the mast and on the aft of the boom. A similar challenge with the running rigging was faced with the furling line of the foresail. This line went through - if I remember well 6 - tackles angled at almost 90°. This caused quite a bit of inherent friction in furling or unfurling the genea. On other boats I sailed, a genoa could be furled easily "by hand", pulling straight on the line, or with 1 or 2 twists over the winch. On Sturdeee, this was not the case: when we wanted to furl the genoa, we had to fully winch the furling line and winch it. And winch it at full force. We overcame that challenge with one crew sitting on the foredeck and manually pulling the furling line, and the one at the helm station, just taking in the slack. An unconvenience, nevertheless.

Another observation was that the manufacturer of Lagoons, advised NOT to sail with only a genoa (without a mainsail up). A feat which still mesmerises me, especially as they did not object to fly the Parasailor without the mainsail - knowing the Parasailor is much more powerful and pulls the mast much more forward....
In past years, sailing on monohulls, we often sailed downwind only on foresails, which makes -in my book- a comfortable and easy passage, and a sail configuration which was easy to "manage" (it is easy to take in or shake out a reef on furling foresails). That by itself, limited our sailing abilities - according to me - on Sturdeee: We had several instances where we were sailing the Parasailor wing without mainsail, but the wind got too strong, and we had to dose the Parasail. What do you do then? My obvious choice would be to unfurl the genoa, but Lagoon advised against it, without raising the mainsail. A thing we hesitated to do at night. So, as a compromise, when, in the middle of the night, we dosed the Parasail, we were sailing on a tripled reefed genoa, crawling along - as we did not want to raise the mainsail in the middle of the night...

Moving on from sails and wind angles to wave angles...: As we were sailing on, from Portugal to the Caribbean, roughly 4,000 Nmiles, mainly down wind or in a broad reach, in the open ocean, we had the waves mostly from a starboard quarter. Even though ocean waves are less steep and short than what we experience in the Med, still each wave made the cat swing left and right.

That "swing" or "roll" was less than on a monohull, but it was just enough, to make the mainsail "swing" left and right. Even with two preventers on the boom, the boom was not moving, but the mainsail was flapping left to right. And a heavy battoned stiff main sail, as we had, deflating and re-inflating 2-3 times per minute, for days on end, causes a lot of strain, wear-and-tear- on the sail, the mast, the rigging, and the cars which fix the mainsail onto the mast. Each swing could be felt as a shiver throughout the boat. And each swing of the mainsail deflating and re-inflating, went with a loud bang, which did not make the skipper happy at all. Loud curses were usually uttered by Ian, at each "bang". Understandably...
The only solution we found, was to triple-reef the mainsail, so it had less power, and would have the mainsail "swing" less, or at least less violently. So in most of our passage, we were underpowered on the mainsail. Even while doing so, after our passage, Ian found some damage, and wear on the sail and the cars connecting the mainsail to the mast.

In addition - something I had not previously experienced on monohull yachts: Sturdeee could not sail with a mainsail only: she needed a genoa to balance the mainsail. With only a mainsail, even when triple-reefed, the boat would turn into the wind, no matter how much you counter-helmed her.

That became a bit of an issue when sailing downwind in squalls: As we came closer towards the Caribbean, we had more frequent squalls, with the winds jumping from an easy 10 or 15 knots to 30 knots. When we hit a squall, we had to heavily reef the genoa on its furler. But that also meant we could not use the barber hauler anymore, and had to rig the genoa sheet through the cars on the foredeck, which were close to the mast. With just a "handkerchief" of a genoa out, rigged that tight to the mast, and the squall hitting us with a downwind of 30-40 knots, the genoa was difficult to control as it would not stay "open", and start to flap. A violently flapping genoa does not make me happy.
On top of that, with a heavily reefed genoa, and even with a triple reefed mainsail, both sails were not in balance, so in those conditions, the boat tended to turn into the wind.

I clearly remember one morning, about three days sailing from Grenada. I had just finished a double shift with Michele and Lana, during which we had dodged several squalls, and Ian came on watch. On the radar and visually, we saw a massive squall building up behind us, one we could not dodge. The main was already triple reefed, and I took off the barber hauler from the genoa, running the sheet of the reefed genoa through the car on the foredeck, trying to avoid it from flapping too violently.
When the squall hit us, it was clear the reefed genoa could not balance the power of the triple-reefed mainsail, and the boat tended to turn into the wind. Ian had to start the windward engine and throttle it quite a bit, to keep the boat holding its course.
It was tense. Even with a downwind squall of "only" 30 knots, which, on a monohull, with tightly reefed sails, would not be a problem, was.. eh.. uncomfortably tense on Sturdeee. I remember that instance very well: Lana and Michele were off shift and sleeping. Ian and me were on the fly bridge trying to keep the boat under control, and as the wall of rain in the squall hit us, Dee tried to close the sides of cockpit, but too late: all stuff in the cockpit got thoroughly soaked. As we were hit by a torrential downpour, poor Ian only had a T-shirt and shorts on, and was totally soaked. I just came out of a night watch, so I still had my rain coat on. After an intense hour, navigating through the squall, all three of us were shaking on our legs. No need to tell you we all hi-fived, once we came through the squall, but once again this reminded me, that on a monohull, that would have been less of an issue.

On the upside: We had a Parasailor spinnaker. On a cat, this massive and powerful sail can be run with tack lines on both front hulls, and its sheets, run aft on both sides. A Parasailor wing on a cat, is a marriage made in heaven: This was a configuration much easier to sail with, on a cat, than on a monohull. Jybing the Parasailor was a breeze: you just ease one side and tension the other side. We had great runs on the Parasailor. I loved that sail!

Another observation when running downwind: In the passage from the Canaries to Cape Verdes, our ARC+ fleet was hit by a 20-30 kts wind from a North-Atlantic depression. We had planned our course well, and kept a more westerly course than the rest of the fleet, so we had less violent wind, but still: Sailing straight downwind in 20+ knots on a monohull makes it "a very rolly day". Sturdeee, on the contrary, hardly moved, surfing happily on the 3-4 meter waves. First on the Parasailor kite, and when taken down, on genoa and mainsail, she sailed very happily and very stable on a true downwind track. At that point, I realized that monohulls, in the same conditions, would roll a lot. Like A LOT! That was one of the times where I felt lucky to be on a cat. Beyond that, we had several stretches where we could sail 100% down wind (with the apparent wind coming from 180°, straight aft), an angle which would have been very difficult, if not impossible, to hold on a monohull.

On the downside of it - and this now goes into one of the main differences between a monohull and a cat: A cat does not like waves coming from the side, and certainly not from a broad side. On a monohull, you basically sail according to the wind, but on a cat like Sturdeee, you also have to sail according to wave angles. She does NOT like waves from a broad side or an angled aft.

Aft-angled or broad-side waves would hit Sturdeee's windward hull first, with a bang. And do keep in mind Sturdeee's hulls are about 2 meter tall and vertical - So it looks like side waves are hitting a vertical wall. So first the wave hits the windward hull, then goes under the boat and would hit the horizontal platform upwards with another bang (at times almost lifting the boat up vertically). And then hit the leeward hull with yet another bang.
At times, each bang, each hit, was so violent, in the open ocean, that it made the boat shiver. I remember laying on my bunk, touching the hull with my hand, and feeling how my bunk moved differently from the hull. You can imagine the strain that puts on the structure of the boat. No wonder some Lagoon owners had complained that their bulkheads (part of the main structure of the boat) would delaminate due to the pressure...

Below deck that also translates into a lot of cracking and creaking of the floorboards and upholdestry (the doors and cabinets). That by itself was quite a difference with sailing on Nerio, our 72ft aluminium monohull we crossed the Atlantic with the year before - where at times we were sailing at 10 knots and I woke up in my bunk as I heard no noise - thinking the boat had actually stopped. A cat surely generates much more noise: bangs and creaks.... :-)

Beyond that, I observed more differences in sailing a cat versus a monohull, particularly a cat with a flybridge with a solid roof. And I would not qualify those as observations of a cat versus a monohull, but rather "a cat with a solid roofed flybridge" versus a monohull:
On Sturdeee, the flybridge is about 3 meter above the water line. So, at the helm, one has a good view of the surroundings. Which is a plus: in the tropics, sitting that high up above the water, one catches the breeze more, making it less hot, but one also feels the wind much more fierce than her actual speed. I remember that one time when we sailed downwind in 20 knots the sleeves of my jacket would vibrate in the wind, even though we only had like 14 knots of apparent wind...
But beyond that, as sailors, we always want to keep a good eye on our sails. With a solid roof above the flybridge, that was a challenge: We could not see the sails easily. To trim the genoa, Parasailor, or mainsail, one had to step out of the flybridge, or lean outwards, to look at the sails. Unlike a monohull, where, from the helming position, one could see the sails at a glance, making it much easier to trim the sails.

And of course a cat does not lean, as both hulls are always in the water. So on a cat, this contributed to the feeling that one gets far less "feedback" from the boat if you are over or under trimmed.

And yet another observation which I saw as we approached the Mindolo harbour in Cape Verdes, sailing close to the wind. Something I had not realize before: A cat has no keel to speak of, so she "drifts" off downwind by A LOT.. As we approached Mindelo, visually, it looked like we were pointing to the rocky outcrop of the island, but when we looked at the plotter, showing our actual course-over-ground, it indicated that while the boat pointed to land, our actual course was 30° off: lacking a keel (or dagger boards), had the boat drift quite a bit leeward. Again, a difference between a monohull and a cat I had not experienced before...

And all of that, would make me come to my conclusion while sailing on Sturdeee: On any boat I sailed on before, from a slow 35 ft Sunsail charter "caravan" to a 72ft racing cruiser, on each of those monohulls, after a couple of days, I felt like I got in sync with the boat. After a couple of days sailing on any of those monohulls, I felt a synergy between the boat and me, and a love affair building between me and the boat.

I never felt that on Sturdeee. In the 4,000 miles I sailed on her, I never felt that synergy, the moment where I felt truly what the boat wanted, and where I had the feeling the boat felt I could give her what she wanted. She continued to feel like a cat, a creature needing attention, and hicking up the moment I did not pay attention.

But maybe that is just me. And the way I am used to sail on monohulls.
Or maybe that was just me, sailing on a cruising cat, versus sailing on a performance cat.

In conclusion: Yep, sailing a cruising catamaran on an ocean passage was the experience I was looking for. I enjoyed the passage, and the company of Ian, Dee, Michele and Lana. And surely, we achieved our goal of a safe passage with no damage to the boat... But I would prefer sailing on a monohull any time above sailing on a cruising catamaran...

But that is just me... And hey... I did enjoy my time on Sturdeee, and appreciated the experience a lot... So, "to cat or not to cat"? as they say in French: "Les goûts et les couleurs ne se discuttent pas!" - somewhere translated into "You can not really discuss or agree on personal preferences of colours and taste"... As they are personal...
And I think I need to try sailing a performance cat, next!