Sailing Home!

May 21, 2018

3:30 am: Alarm goes off. Decide to sleep for another half hour.

4:00 am: Alarm goes off: Get up. Check weather. Currently blowing up to 20 knots. The original plan was to start with a double reefed main (prepped last night) and staysail, but with this much wind, we decided to wait for daylight.

5:30 am: Alarm goes off. Still looks dark outside. Try to sleep.

6:00 am: Alarm goes off. It’s light out. Let’s roll.

6:30 am: Anchor is up and motor is on.

We decided to immediately raise sail for stability. The wind was only about 10-12 knots, but we left in the reefs, raised the jib, and kept the motor running. In case of increasing wind, we didn’t want to be going forward to the bow in large waves and getting seasick while trying to adjust the sails.

As we pulled out of West End, Paul watched a huge tuna leap out of the water. Goodbye, Bahamas!

We headed southwest for 8 nautical miles – though in hindsight we should have gone at least 10 so we wouldn’t have to fight the Gulf Stream current so much as we approached Florida. The winds out of the southeast continued to be around 10 knots, possibly less, but the waves weren’t joking around, averaging 6 feet.

With the waves this big, steering took a lot of concentration, so we traded who was at the helm every hour. We both stayed in the cockpit for the whole trip, going below only to use the head (restroom). This was the first time I’d ever used a scopolamine patch for seasickness, and boy was I glad to have it!

We continued to see large waves even as the wind dwindled. And I started to think this was fun! A wave on the stern would occasionally get us wet and I’d laugh. I loved that in Gulf Stream the deep water looks royal purple, but when the top of a wave would start to foam, it would appear a bright, vibrant blue. I steered towards animal shapes in the clouds, and I couldn’t believe it when Paul proudly told me that I was doing a better job of steering than him.

We saw 1 cargo ship and 1 cruise ship, and both passed several miles in front of us. A powerboat sped by us, and a sailboat was headed in another direction. At one point, I questioned if I saw a whale’s tail, but most likely it was a wave and my imagination. We watched some rain clouds in the distance, but luckily we didn’t get more than a little sprinkle.

We did turn the motor off for an hour to slow us down, since the wind had picked up and the boat was speeding down the waves at over 8 knots. We probably should have considered putting up more sail when the wind dropped again, but things were going so smoothly motor sailing that we really didn’t want to disrupt our flow (or risk dropping below 5 knots, which we needed to average to be sure we’d reach Florida well before sunset). We waited until the last hour of the trip to take the reefs out of the main.

We were shocked how near to shore the Stream’s current was that day. We fought it almost all the way to the inlet. As we approached Lake Worth, our course over ground was West, but our actual compass heading was nearly South! It’s hard to explain how that messes with your head when you’re trying to compare where you are on the GPS to what you see in front of you.

Paul got quiet as we approached the inlet. He had prior experience with the inlets of Northern California and knew better than I that this could get ugly. And it was ugly – not just because of the water suddenly turning chocolate-milk-brown, but because the consistent 6-foot waves stacked up tighter and tighter at the entrance. I held my breath, praying the waves wouldn’t break over our boat, while Paul nervously but expertly steered down the middle of the rock jetties, as commercial ships chugged by and beachgoers naively observed.

In a just a few minutes, the waters calmed and we were welcomed back in the IntraCoastal Waterway. We lowered the sails and headed for the anchorage at the north end of Lake Worth.

“How big do you think some of those waves were?” I asked Paul. My thought was 8 feet.

“I bet some of those were 10,” he said.

“Really?” I was about to say that I had thought they were only 8 but I bet we could handle 10, when Paul cut me off.

“I wouldn’t want to do it again in more than 4 foot waves!” he exclaimed.

I countered, “Oh come on, that was fun though, wasn’t it?” He gave me a blank look. I prodded, “You have to admit that was fun!” He wouldn’t agree and he now thinks I’m crazy.

At the anchorage, we checked in to the US using the “ROAM” app, which was super easy and didn’t require us to leave the boat.

A 13 hour journey and we were home sweet home.

It took us two days to get to Indiantown due to the St. Lucie Lock schedule. Once at Indiantown, we prepped the boat to get hauled and moved as much of its contents into storage as we could. We also took note of how many alligators hang out in this marina and of how cheap the BBQ in town is.

In just two more days, we said see-ya-later to Miss Fe and headed back into a life on land… but only for a few months, till the sea calls us again.