Friday 26 July 2013

We are Salty Dawgs Now!

For our ocean crossing route, we are pleased to be joining the Salty Dawg Rally, leaving early November from Hampton, Virginia, and arriving in Tortola, British Virgin Islands.  We are very happy to be joining this group of boats, which will include two Hanses from TO, Happy Chaos, sailed by Sean and Michelle, and Unknown Island, sailed by Peter and Amanda, and their children (a crew of 5 that they seem to split amongst them, though they have their own bunks!).  


We look forward to enjoying the seminars preceding the ocean crossing, the fantastic weather reports and also to have the opportunity for GPS monitoring  (you too can see where we are) and morning reporting, just to make sure all is well, and we are still alive.  Yes, you can follow us on the website, and the first mate will try and be funny, while avoiding any references to avoiding death.  


This because, the Captain thought my second posting was very bleak, and he suggested I should write about how much fun we are having, but we've just been doing chores, to the first mate's reckoning.  And people did die in the Caribbean 1500 in 2010 and 2011, so I don't think I'm so dour when I worry about preventing death.  I am realistic, sorry Captain, for being dark again.  


On the bright side, 


In addition to Grumpy and Sleepy, out crew will be finely rounded out with steadfast Brian, who wants to wear his harness!




Devilish Charles, who says that he is a very safe guy, and agrees to clip in!




And we hope to be joined in the BVIs by the hotties, Marina and Petty, who await Brian and Charles's safe return.  


Two months to go.  More later.  

Sunday 21 July 2013

Preparation

Preparation


This is simple.  Bring buckets of money.  Perhaps more than three times your budget.  Then add a sprinkle of time, possibly more than you have.


Next.  Add a little anxiety.  Read books on very bad storms. Lose a bit of sleep.  Imagine yourself in the midst one of these storms.  Ask, what will kill us, if one were to inadvertently occur whilst we are in the middle of the ocean, despite the best intentions to avoid same, and the best weather forecasting available?  


Death seems to be most likely to occur if your boat rolls over,and usually this only happens if you have the misfortune of experiencing a breaking wave.  This is fairly rare.  And then one of two categories of events can happen that prevent you from living.  First, if water is allowed to enter to a terrific extent, this will impede the boat's natural inclination to upright herself.   In preparation for this, you better make sure that your companionway doors are well sealed, and they provide the opportunity for the crew down below to egress and the crew up above to escape the weather by going down below and lying ahull if necessary (this is when you decide the safest place is to hide down below with no sails up).  How is it that one can buy a Lloyd's certified ocean going vessel and a secured companionway is not part of the equation?   Apparently, flying companionway doors are also an awesome (horrendous) way to get scalped, per a reliable source, Dave T.  Best to also be able to lock on either side, from outside against thieves and the inside, just in case.  Sadly, there are very few commercially available systems to purchase, even though the UK racing rules (m'lord, the things you learn when you are Dr. Not Death), require this!  I'm searching, and time to prepare to be not dead is soon running out!


The second most obvious way to die if your boat rolls over as a result of a breaking wave, is if your batteries, which are heavier than the average strong man likes to carry on his own, fall on the crews head.  So you had better see that they have some good stainless steel strapping to prevent that from happening.  There is a lot of stuff to store but most of it will not kill you.  We are trying to secure everything we can. 


Now the first mate believes that the third way to get dead is to be silly and to not wear your life jacket and keep yourself harnessed in, even when the seas are calm.  In the middle of the ocean, who wants to go pick you up?  How long does it take?   In St. Lucia, we just said goodbye to a brand new Hanse hat, worn once, b/c it landed in the water and then was very far away in very little time.  


To buy a drogue or not to buy a drogue, that is the $1500 question.  It could save your life.  You will probably never need it. We can probably run warps too (long lines, much cheaper, probably keep us into the wind if necessary.   If I was rounding either of the capes I would definitely equip the boat with a drogue.  I would also have a different, more seaworthy machine.   I think we'll pass this time and be hopeful.  Perhaps now that the first mate is sewing full time with her new industrial machine, she will make a drogue for one of those unplanned, 6 years in the future, retirement storms!   This knowing that sewing 135 cones and weaving them into a line would be exponentially more tedious than today's task, which was making 24 fabric sleeves for bottles and cans to ride in the bilge, so they can crash around and not make noise.  


Next up:  Plans for the journey (and the captain commands less darkness:  are we having fun yet?  Not that much lately, but accomplishments are good, and we are planning to have fun soon!)




Wednesday 17 July 2013

Working is for the Others....at least for a while

This is Volver, our Hanse 370, the trusty vessel which will take us on our escape from this, her slip in Toronto, to the Caribbean.  She was shiny, new, and unnamed here, but is a little better used now.  Her name means "to return" in Spanish, and we aim to do that.



This is us:  Todd and Kelly.  Captain and First Mate.  



We were young once.



Serious.


But always....


We were sailors.  

We have sailed in Saint Vincent and the Grenadines, St. Lucia, the British Virgin Islands, and don't forget the Thousand Islands, but we have never undertaken an ocean crossing such as we are embarking on.