Abacos to Beaufort, NC — Cupcake Afloat

Such a busy week!

Last Saturday we were at Green Turtle Cay provisioning for our crossing to the US, preparing to collect Christopher at the airport so we could get ready for our offshore passage.

Turns out his flight was cancelled so we spent the night anchored near the ferry dock at Great Abaco Island waiting for him to arrive on the Sunday morning flight. Once we collected him we headed to Manjack Cay so we would be ready to sail away on Monday morning as soon as the sun rose. We enjoyed a quiet Sunday at Manjack but were all pretty keyed up about the crossing.

Not one, but two ditch bags packed for this passage. See Mom, we are very safe.

Seven years ago we also left the Abacos, headed to Beaufort, North Carolina. We had three friends aboard to help with the passage, the kids flew back to the US with my parents. But for a variety of reasons (inexperience, crew friction, seasickness, bad advice) we spent two nights at sea and only got as far as St. Augustine. So we were curious/nervous about whether or not the trip would work out this time.

For the past few months we’ve been learning more about offshore route planning. There is a lot to take into account: wind, waves, Gulf Stream currents, watch schedules, meal preparation. We also realized that Cupcake doesn’t carry enough diesel to motor for the entire 500 mile trip. So we gave away some of our gasoline in an effort to free up another 5 gallon jerry can. Ultimately we managed to find room for 35 gallons of diesel in jerry cans to supplement the 22 gallons in the tank. Even with the 57 gallons aboard, I was concerned that we might not have enough fuel if we had to motor into wind and seas the entire trip. Of course, we wouldn’t have planned a trip where that would happen, but one must be prepared.

Using both fastseas.com and data from our friends on Charis who were leaving at the same time, we settled on our route, loaded it into the GPS, and went to bed Sunday night.

Monday we awoke at 5am, had breakfast, finished stowing gear on the boat, and hoisted anchor. We were out into the open ocean by 6am on a beautiful reach.

The first day we made great time, sailing fast and comfortably as we made our way (we hoped) towards the currents that would boost us along to North Carolina.

Let me say this about Florida: it is big. Took us much more than a full day to get to a latitude north of the Florida/Georgia border.

The watch schedule we settled on was pretty straightforward. Ellen did not want to stand watch at night. So Christopher and I divided the dark hours between us. Given the choice, I said I would prefer to start my watch at dusk and avoid waking up at midnight or 1am and jumping into action. So that was the deal. After dinner, Christopher went to bed, Ellen and Moss hung around in the cockpit until they got tired (usually around 9pm) then I drove the boat until 12:30 or 1am when Christopher took over. He drove until 4:30 or 5am when Ellen came up to take over until breakfast. For the most part, we were all hanging around the cockpit during the day if we weren’t napping.

My first night watch was a pretty exciting one. Because I wanted to keep an eye on any vessels around us and because I wanted to keep an eye on some squalls up ahead of us, I fired up the radar. As it happens, Charis never really showed up on our radar. They were either just below the horizon or were not presenting a big enough target for the radar to pick out. We were always within VHF range, although sometimes it was a little difficult to make them out.

In any event, as we closed in on the squalls, I started seeing lots more lightning. But when lightning was not flashing, I could not see anything. Couldn’t see the waves, couldn’t see the clouds, couldn’t see the stars. Couldn’t see anything. It was, as they say, a dark and stormy night.

When we hit the squall line, the wind started howling and pushed the bow about 90 degrees off course. In the dark, the new heading completely disoriented me, confused the autopilot, and freaked out the crew below. Ellen and Christopher quickly suited up in their foul weather gear, poked their heads out into the cockpit, and when I told them I had things well in hand, gratefully retreated below. I spent an exciting hour or two driving in the wind and lashing rain. After my initial disorientation I learned the best way to steer into the seas and was able to keep us on course. The sails were furled well ahead of the weather, so we were motoring in the dark, making only about 3.5 knots of progress. Prior to the squalls, we had been sailing at a comfortable 6 knots.

Eventually my stint at the wheel was over, the rain stopped, and Christopher took over for the remainder of the night. I went below, soaked to the skin, made him a pot of coffee, crawled into the v-berth and fell asleep immediately.

The next few days were a blur of limitless blue seas and often magnificent sailing. Once we hit the Gulf Stream our speed swiftly increased to 6 then 7 then 8, 9, ultimately touching 11 knots. We were able to tweak our course through the Gulf Stream by watching the fluctuations in the water temperature. If we saw the temperature start to drop lower than 77.5 degrees, we knew we were slipping out of the main current and would adjust the course east or west in an effort to find the warm heart of the stream.

Helping transfer diesel into the tank while offshore.

The days have blended together in my memory (remember, I never got a solid 8 hours of sleep at a clip) but I do know we had at least 10-15 hours of gorgeous sailing along at at least 8 knots. That speed really helps eat up the miles. We figure we sailed between 60 and 75% of the time, only using 17 gallons of fuel as we motored.

Although we hoped for a three night trip, ultimately we realized as we approached Beaufort that our speed over the previous day would have us arriving at the inlet in the dark. So we did something we have never had to do before: we intentionally slowed down.

Our last half day we reduced sail so we would slow the boat enough to have us make landfall at sunrise. Unfortunately, as we approached Beaufort the last 25 miles or so had us in a very uncomfortable rolly, choppy sea.

The sun rose, we headed into the inlet, and started up the brown ICW water towards Oriental, NC.

Our buddy Matthew spotted us on the Town Dock webcam in Oriental.

Moss brought down the Bahamas courtesy flag and I used the US Customs and Immigration application on my iPhone to check us into the country. The first time I did it, we were denied entry because I was so exhausted I skipped a step. The very helpful Customs agent called me and explained what to do, and we are now allowed to remain in the country. Hooray!

When we got to Oriental, it was a very different town from the one we left last September. The devastation from Hurricane Florence has largely been cleaned up. Waiting for us as we tied up at the Town Dock were Harry and Alicia from Jennabird. Oriental is their home port and they are in town for the weekend. Charis arrived minutes behind us, we saw Seaquel who we met in Hope Town, and then Mariposa came along and shouted “Hello Cupcake! We heard you on the radio in Georgetown!” What a wonderful landfall.

Cupcake’s entire crew was utterly exhausted. I hadn’t really done more than catnap in 24 hours (thank you Red Bull). But we were so happy to see Jennabird that we hung out with them, had a delicious lunch, and then moved the boat to a free slip they scored for us at their marina. That meant long, hot showers. Our first shoreside showers since February. Aaah. And Whirly-Pop popcorn. And bourbon. And good company. And finally a long peaceful night’s sleep.

So I’m looking back at this post and realize that I am still a little fried, definitely rambling. I’ll wrap things up by saying we could not have had better crew than Christopher. He integrated into life aboard seamlessly, was always in good spirits, is a skilled sailor, excellent company, and great friend.

We were a little overwhelmed by the bounty at an American grocery store. (Piggly Wiggly in this instance.)

Oriental is a town that takes care of its sailors. Piggly Wiggly will pick you up at the dock, take you to the store, and then take you back to the dock for free. We love Oriental, NC.

We found this collectible in the backseat of Harry and Alicia’s car! (That’s Christopher on the right, Ellen in the middle, and some boat kid on the left.)

Saw this old girl tied up at the marina.

This is what 96 hours offshore does to Moss’ usually neat and tidy cabin.

Just in case you forgot we are in the South.