Day 10 At-Sea
Ship’s Time
13º 33’ N, 056º 12’ W
Steering 280º at 9-10 Knots
This will be the night that sticks with me from this crossing. I just got off the helm after my half-hour stint, fingertip steering, keeping the luff of the spinnaker just in line with Orion’s belt. In the lulls I’d head up a couple degrees until the belt disappeared, then soak down in the puffs until I could see the entire constellation. Normally at night you’d use the steaming light to illuminate the kite and check trim, but with not a cloud in sight, the light from the stars is plenty to keep tabs on the big spinnaker without ruining the illusion that we’re actually our own little spaceship hurtling through the galaxy.
We deserve this night after a very hot, very frustrating afternoon. After setting the kite in the pre-dawn light at the 0600 watch change yesterday, the wind gradually eased off until at 1400 it was so light that the sock on the spinnaker collapsed down on the sail just thanks to gravity. Veiko and I went on the foredeck to corral it and that was that. We motored through a sloppy sea for the next three hours, taking turns using the foredeck saltwater hose to cool off and trying desperately to find a slice of shade behind the mast to escape the sun.
I started prepping dinner around 1600, and by then the calm had smoothed out the sea and there were signs the wind was trying to fill in again from the northeast. We’d been on port tack last time the chute was up, so while the curry simmered on the stove we re-rigged the kite on the foredeck for a starboard tack hoist. Having done this spinnaker re-rig drill now several times (we have to drop it, re-rig it, and re-hoist it anytime we jibe), the crew had it sorted out in a few minutes and we managed to set sail again before the food was served.
And we’ve been sailing since. The northeasterly filled in as promised to a gentle 12-15 knots, the seas are calm and the first evening watch got to sail by the brilliant light of the waxing moon, which is just short of half-full, and now the graveyard shift is steering to the stars.
As I write, we’re inside the 200-miles-to-go mark and now definitely at risk of snapping out of the at-sea magic spell we’ve been under, but thus far I’m proud of the crew for staying in the moment. I’ll say though it’s pretty effortless on a night like this one.
// Andy
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The Penultimate Blog from Adrienne II
After 20 days, and 3000+ nautical miles, we're back on land. The motley crew of Adrienne II, consisting of 7 happy amateurs supported by 3 professionals, have completed an epic journey many dream of but few realize. So much of this trip has been about being present - with nature, with each other, with this boat. My biggest takeaway from this trip is the amazing crossing of the ITCZ (Inter Tropical Convergence Zone). We all hope you've enjoyed the blog as much as we've enjoyed creating it.
Mother Nature, you’ve outdone yourself!
It’s been a great experience to have a non-traditional trans-Atlantic, as it’s been packed with genuinely cool features. The Doldrums!! A place sailors have been talking about for centuries. The unpredictability is what made it such an exhilarating experience. While some might be frightened or alarmed by this kind of weather, I was embodied with a sense of calm and awe. There’s something wildly beautiful about being reminded how small you are, while feeling so incredibly alive.
A Heavenly High
As you have probably figured out at this point, the drug of choice on board is, of course, celestial navigation- an art which has hooked offshore sailors for centuries. Once addicted, navigators will emerge from down below only to get their fixes two times per day, and spend the rest of their days and nights down below doing complex spherical mathematics. On Adrienne II, our skipper is our dealer. I must confess that I myself gave in to the strange urge which I’ve felt witnessing my crewmates practice this fine art, and yesterday felt an amazing sensation as I was able to wield the sextant for the first time and with it, bring down the tip of our starboard spreader to the top of our front sprayhood, presicely measuring the angle between the two (35deg, 38,8’ min). This afternoon, Naxo then showed me how to get my fix from the very sun itself - and I now fear there is no turning back.