A Log of Our Passage To Newport
In Part 2, we covered the crew and the boat, now for the passage itself
This shows our course. Our goal was to get to Newport by Friday evening, and we had a plan that we thought would make crossing the Gulf Stream easy and possibly speed up our passage with a favorable current.
Freebird’s top speed was around 8 kts. Given that winds and currents make that hard to achieve when planning you expect to cruise at 5 kts, possibly 6kts while motoring at a speed that does not burn up the limited fuel too fast. In addition, you have to consider that currents (and there are lots of them) can slow you down or speed you up.
On Monday, June 27th, we filled up the fuel tanks including an additional 20 gallons in tanks tied to the lifelines. This would give us sufficient fuel to motor if we needed to for around 400 miles.
We then checked out of Bermuda. This meant motoring the boat from Hamilton to the other side of Bermuda so that we could clear customs and immigration in St George’s. We left Bermuda at around 1500 Eastern Time (aka 4 pm Bermuda time).
The winds over the first 24 hours were light to moderate and we motor-sailed and sailed on a broad reach. This was very comfortable. In addition, a couple of right whales and then later a pod of dolphins surfaced close by. At night, the skies were fairly clear, and the stars were awe-inspiring.
On Wednesday, the winds freshened, and we sailed hard all day and all night. Things were going well. So, we thought.
On Thursday, we realized that we had made a navigational error, explained in the next section. Moreover, the winds were light. And, we were worried that we would face strong winds on a course of sail that would be tough on the crew and the boat. We altered course and motored Northwest. This is when we hit the Gulf Stream. The conditions were fortunately calm, but we faced a 2-4 kt current against us so our speed slowed to a crawl for 5-7 hours. We worried that we might run short on fuel in the next 24 hours and face very tough conditions over the last 100 miles. Things were pretty tense on board, and we were feeling pretty down about our situation.
By Friday morning, things started to turn in our favor. The winds were out of the Southwest and favorable for us to sail. Wind speeds ranged between 18 and 22 knots gusting to 25kts. Waves were never more than 4 feet. Ideal conditions and we sailed fast.
We had turned more directly towards Newport overnight, and we put the foot down.
Friday night was challenging. We had seen very few ships for the first 500 miles but as were now within 100 miles of the Eastern seaboard, we expected to encounter more traffic. We saw a few 500-1000 foot-long container ships. These were not a problem as they were at least 5 miles away and never on a course where we were at risk of collision. We also knew that they could see us on their AIS.
Fishing boats were another issue. About 75 miles south of Long Island, underwater canyons and other factors make these great fishing grounds. We encountered a dozen fishing boats that night.
There are three problems with fishing boats:
- They are working and when they have their nets and lines out they have right of way over sailing vessels, so we had to avoid them, and expect that they would not be paying much attention to us.
- Their movements could be unpredictable as they might be heading in one direction slowly for an hour or two as they trawled. Then they would bring in their nets and they might turn and motor hard in a different direction.
- The third issue is that some fishing boats either don’t have or switch off their AIS. The rumor is that they don’t want their competitors to know where they are fishing. This meant that we could only see many of them when they were within the 6-mile horizon. At night you could see their lights but without AIS you had little clue about what they were up to and what action to take.
I have to admit that I found this to be sphincter-clenching for a few hours. The mind plays tricks on you too. I could see a white light to port, but nothing came up on AIS or radar. At one point I thought it might be someone in the water, and I was seeing the light on their lifejacket. I also thought I heard a far-off cry for help. In fact, what I was hearing was the creaking of the auto-helm. I woke the skipper up and the look on his face was priceless. What a dummy! We believe that it was a small fishing boat with AIS turned off.
After a 4-hour sleep, I came back on watch at 4 am. This was my favorite time, as I saw the dawn. This photo was from dawn on Tuesday.
By the end of my two-hour dawn watch, we were in home waters, between Block Island and Martha’s Vineyard. By 8 am EST, we cleared the famous Castle Hill light that marks the entrance to Narragansett Bay, RI.
Visibility was poor as there was heavy fog, but this slowly lifted as we made our way past Newport and up to the North end of the bay. We arrived at Cove Have Marina, in Barrington, RI, just South of Providence, at noon on Saturday, July 1st.
After, taking care of some immediate clean-up and logistical issues, it was time for a very much-needed and world’s longest shower followed by the best cold beer ever.
Passage Planning and Navigation
The rhumb line is the direct route from point A to point B. It’s not actually the shortest course due to the Earth’s curvature. That’s a great-circle course. The rhumb line is typically used for navigation planning purposes.
On the surface, sailing from Bermuda to Newport RI seems fairly simple. It’s 635 nautical miles North by Northwest or 345 degrees Magnetic. There is no land in the way.
In simple terms, there are three options: Sail the rhumb line, sail East of the rhumb line, or sail West of the rhumb line.
This article explains the complexity of this passage and why this can be a tricky decision. In short, the wind may be better to the West and the waves might be shorter. Or an Eastern course might allow you to take advantage of more positive currents or cross the Gulf Stream in a shorter time. The answers are not always obvious and there are as many strategies as there are boats taking part in a race.
Phil had paid for two high-priced weather routing services. These provide recommendations to mariners on what routing to take. These are services are used by commercial shipping as well as recreational boaters.
These services recommended we go West of the Rhumb line. Our navigator recommended we go East based on what his computer models were indicating. This took into account predicted boat performance, wind forecasts over 5-days, and what the Gulf Stream was doing.
You can see from the graphic of our passage above, we started by going East then came back West, and then went East again before eventually heading straight to Newport.
To be honest, we made an error in navigation by going East of the rhumb line. How did this happen? The navigator was projecting that this course would give us the most favorable wind direction over the passage based on wind forecasts. (Note: Wind directions change with some ability to predict but it’s rarely 100% accurate). The plan was to get to a specific entry point that would be ideal to cross the Gulf Stream.
The problem was that the assumptions were based on the boat being in racing mode with a full crew, bigger sails and a more aggressive plan. In reality, we were in cruising mode with a smaller headsail and a small crew which meant we would be sailing slower than the projected course. On top of that, the wind forecast was close to the projections but off enough to be a problem.
Sailing this course meant that we missed the favorable wind shifts and actually meant that the winds were unfavorable for us. This was especially troubling as the winds were forecast for the second half of the trip. When we realized this, we changed course. It also meant that rather than crossing the Gulf Stream at a favorable place we motored against it for 5-7 hours.
Thankfully by the next day, we were in a better position, a direct course for Newport, with winds, current, and waves in our favor. All’s well that ends well but it was shaky for a bit.
Reflections
Overall, I loved the experience, and I am so glad I was able to lose my offshore virginity. It had its pluses and minuses. On the positive side, offshore sailing pushes you to be a more competent, more educated, and better-prepared sailor. It can test your endurance and courage. I felt like I had accomplished something special, at least to me.
The camaraderie is meaningful. We certainly had our rough patches, but we worked through them and worked together. I had so much confidence in the skipper and enjoyed getting to know the navigator. We had a great dinner to recollect and celebrate in Rhode Island on Saturday night and made up for 5-days of no booze.
You also may get to see whales, dolphins, and birds you would not see on land. The sky at night and the phosphorescence are magical. The Gulf Stream can create changes in the sea, wind, temperature, and sailing conditions that can knock you on your butt but it’s a fascinating phenomenon.
It’s also scary and dangerous. Our passage was quite easy as winds never built above 25kts and the waves were small. It still had moments that made me more than a little nervous.
If you don’t take the right precautions, you can get in trouble in a split second. The death in the recent Bermuda Race is a testament to this. You can also get injured just by being thrown around while you are below decks in rough conditions.
Even well-prepared and maintained boats break. Several boats turned back in the Bermuda Race because important gear failed. In one case the whole rig collapsed.
Would I do it again? Probably. It would have to be on the right boat, with the right skipper and a passage worth making. I also would not want to do anything longer than this passage. By day 4, I was ready to be home.
I used to fantasize about sailing the Atlantic or making a trip to South America to sail around Cape Horn. I have lost interest in doing that.
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