Once again I find myself out at sea, the deep sea, the big blue, into the
wild we go. This time round we are sailing a Maverick 400 Custom from Cape
Town to Annapolis, a 7800nm voyage, estimated to take about 9 weeks, stops
included. The Mavericks are hand built in Cape Town, and if you Google
Maverick Yachts, you will notice that they look very different from most
other yachts. They are also known as "Spacecraft", partly because of the
way they look, and partly due the optimized used of space inside and out.
Compared to motorcars I have always thought of the Maverick shape as the
Bentley of boats. You get slick, fast, hard lines, and then you get the
more curvy lines. This lady falls in the latter group. She has curves in
all the right places. It's all about that base :-)))
On board we have Joe, the owner, Peter, my First Mate, Nicolas, our crew
member, and myself as captain. I always select my crew carefully, based on
different criteria than what you may think. To start with I always look
for a strong First Mate, not physical strength, but in performance and
experience. I received more than a dozen applications, checked references
and Peter fitted the bill perfectly. Nicolas has been on smaller boats all
his life, and knows a bit about sailing a Hoby cat. No sailing
qualifications, but a lot of other interesting dynamics he brings to the
party. Joe was a complete unknown. We signed a contract about a year ago.
He paid 10% of my delivery fee upfront to make sure I would be available
for his boat. Just as he was very selective about his yacht and the
interior, the name also took a lot of consideration. Boat names
are sometimes fascinating. Eventually Joe had to decide what to name his
boat. On our contract where the boat's name is mentioned, I had to fill in
Boat with no name :-))) In the end, Joe named his boat No ETA. Which says a
lot about his intentions with his boat, no rush.
We all met in Cape Town mid April and started preparing for the voyage.
Keeping one eye on the punch list we had to go through, the other eye was
kept on weather reports. That way we could pace ourselves, and be
thoroughly prepared when the time came for us to cast off. We had to get
tools, equipment, spares, food and fuel, and go out for a sea trial before
we were absolutely ready. The weather was our main concern. We could speed
up our required purchases should the weather dictate. 28 April the weather
turned perfectly in our favour and found us ready, eager and
willing. We cleared out on Friday, got all our fresh produce, tied the
inflatable down properly and did a final few other odds and ends. At 8am
on Saturday I radioed Cape Town Port Control requesting permission to
depart from RCYC and exit port on route to Annapolis. Once they granted
permission we started the motors, prepared the mooring lines, and soon
were on our way. It was very foggy, visibility about 50mtrs. But with
radar and port control keeping an eye on ship movement, we slowly and
safely motored out and stayed outside of the shipping lanes. Soon we were
out of the fog, and looking back, Table Mountain was spectacular with a
rim of fog covering the base.
An incredible feeling of sadness wells up in me at these times, and an
incredible feeling of happiness as well. To experience both these feelings
simultaneously could probably be considered a special type of madness. An
all pervasive experience of thankfulness and gratefulness. For what is
behind us, what is ahead of us, but mostly for an awareness of exactly who
we are, what we are, and where we are at any given time and place. It is an
ever evolving experience. That of living in the moment. Catching a glimpse of
eternity now and then. Timelessness.
The conditions were great for a first day out at sea, and none of the crew
suffered seasickness. We set our course in a north westerly direction. The
wind were at first from the SW and we hoisted our main sail and unfurled our
head sail. The wind slowly backed to S, and by the next morning it settled
on SE. We dropped our sails and up went the gennaker catching the wind
straight from behind. I assembled two fishing lines and soon we had a nice
size yellowtail on board. Showed the crew how to fillet a fish properly, and
soon after we sat down to some sushimi with soya sauce, pickled ginger and
wasabi. What a treat. For supper we had yellowtail fillets and we were well
on our way. The next morning we ran through a school of longfin tuna, lost
one and managed to get two aboard. We could have caught a few more, but
decided we have enough for now. A flock of various kinds of sea birds were
following us as I processed the two tuna. T'was so much fun dropping the
cut-offs in the water and watching the birds feeding and making a big noise
around our boat.
We have set watches on our yacht. I do the 6-9 watches, Nicolas 9-12, Peter
12-3 and Joe 3-6, night and day. The wind settled on SE. The first day the
wind was fairly strong, about 25kts, and the wind in our sail was on the edge
at 16kts. I decided to bring the gennaker down just before sunset and
unfurled the genoa again. We lost some miles, but we were comfortable and
safe. The next morning the gennaker went up again, and we went a few times
through the drill of snuffing the gennaker quickly. The gennaker stayed up
for a few days and nights and we made excellent miles. The wind eventually
faded on us, and we had to use our motors one at a time to keep going at a
reasonable speed. We motored for nearly three days before we got some wind
again. First from the NE and backed to N, NW, W, SW, S and settled on SE
again. It was a bit uncomfortable as the sea state kept on following the wind
directions, and it took about 24 hrs for the wind to back to SE. It took
another few hours for the swell to follow suit.
Sunday we were still becalmed, expecting the weather to come in a bit later
in the day. Our motors were at 50hrs each and time to service them. Take the
oil out, replace the oil filter and fill up with oil again. Easy enough, and
a breeze with the right tools at hand. Unintentionally it always seems that
we rest for six days a week and on the 7th day we work. My darlig daughter
will dispute that her dad ever works. She claims that if you really love what
you do, it can't be called work. And I have this habit to love whatever I do.
Last night at 8, after days of motoring, the wind at last turned SW and I
made the call to raise the head and mainsail again. A bit of a process, even
more so at night, but being a sailing boat, we love to sail whenever we can.
We operate 24/7. One of my crew's mom asked me a few years ago if we anchor
every night and start again in the morning. I thought she was joking, but
no, she was serious. I realized then that not everybody knows that we keep
on moving out here. The wind was a gentle 13kts when we raised the main to
2nd reef, and as soon as the main was up it started gusting at 26kts. A bit
surprising, but 2nd reef is only about half of our mainsail, so we were
fine. We unfurled the genoa also to 2nd reef, and at last turned off the
motors, sailing over a somewhat bouncy sea throughout the night. The crew got
a bit wet in the process, but a quick warm shower afterwards sorted that out
quick. This morning at 7 I woke my crew to drop the sails and raise the
gennaker once again. Very much a waiting game at times. But when the time
arrives, the boat takes first priority. We have lots of time to rest, so I
never have any qualms to wake my crew whenever I need them.
After a day of flying the gennaker we are back to motoring. No wind, no
problem. After a period of no wind the sea becomes glassy, and all the stars
are reflected in a mirror like image. Stars all around, above and below, and
you become part of this infinite kaleidoscope of spiralling galaxies. You feel
infinitely small, and infinitely big at the same time. The complete
insignificance in a way, and the complete relevance in another way. This
experience we call life. No other planet, in all of the universe, manifests
life as Gaia, planet Earth, the Blue Planet, name it what you like. In order
to sustain life as we know it requires a perfect orchestration of elements.
Take the moon for example, orbiting in perfect harmony with the sun and earth.
Creating tides and currents all around the globe. Forces of life. Even our
atmosphere is a very finely balanced mixture of carbon and oxygen as the main
components. The magnetic fields of our planet, still a mystery to science as
to what exactly causes these magnetic fields. There are a few theories, as
there always is, but nothing absolutely conclusive. I will call it magic, as
that is what we call what we don't fully understand. A planet of mystery and
magic, for sure. It is inconceivable however, considering the utter vastness
of the universe, that there are no other forms of life out there, and perhaps
right here. New discoveries in the ocean are registered nearly daily, far to
many to be properly researched.
We will arrive at St.Helena in the next three to four days. A tiny pinnacle in
the middle of the South Atlantic ocean. From a depth of 5000m a volcano
erupted, surfaced above the ocean, cooled down and mostly sank back into the
ocean. The rocky outcrop that remained above the water through millennia gave
a foothold for life. Certain trees and birds, plants and fish you will find
nowhere else. Some of them already extinct, some on the brink of extinction.
There are on average 3500 Saints on the island, and at times up to 500
foreigners. A long and rich history that is closely connected to life on the
high seas. I love the morphic energy of this place. Since October 2017 you can
now fly to St.Helena. If you want to get off the beaten track a bit, check
this place out. I have just checked in my logbook, and I have visited
St.Helena 28 times before. I have some of the most wonderful friends on the
island, and it is always an immense pleasure to step ashore for a while.
Will catch up again further down the line.
