Day 11 - Trades at last!
A year afloat: to the Caribbean and back
Sam and Alex Fortescue
Wed 1 Dec 2010 12:33
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14:33.62N
027:34.60W
Our mackerel feathers proved deadly again
yesterday, beguiling three little dorado of about a pound each. We were trolling
at a serene three knots, making the most of a light breeze that had sprung up
late in the afternoon. Suddenly, the white float towing the hooks surfaced to
let us know we were into fish. A bigger beast managed to shake himself loose at
the last minute, as he dangled over the transom. A surprisingly bold fish also
had a go at our bigger squid lure - almost his size. William speculated that the
fish was expecting to get away with a single tentacle, undetected by the squid.
We also got into a small yellowfin tuna - about 2lbs worth, which will shortly
be carpaccioed for lunch.
Yesterday was washing day. We stopped for about an
hour and swam near the boat - with a lesser spotted moonfish, as William decided
he could not resist skinny dipping. We took the chance to do some laundry, tidy
up a bit and do some last loafing before the anticipated onset of the
tradewinds.
And the great news is we have at last turned west
for good, or so we hope. The centre of the high drifted north across us as we
motored south yesterday. It was the hottest day we've had so far - the sun's
rays feeling aggressive on your skin. The wind died to nothing, the pressure
squashed the swell and waves; and the air turned limpid and motionless. Even
sleeping below deck was a trial.
During the night, though, at about 3am, I realised
that we had picked up about a knot of boatspeed during my watch, with the wind
freshening and moving round onto the port quarter. The breeze hit 10 knots out
of the east, signifying that we had finally crossed into the weak tradewind
belt. It was a dark night, though, so I decided to stick to the poled-out gib
and mainsail until the sun came up. As soon as we'd tucked away a cereal
breakfast, we got busy rigging the spinnaker. Alex rigged the spinnaker boom and
clipped on the halyards and sheets.
Then, with an ease that was unthinkable a fortnight
ago, the snuffer was hauled up to the head of the mast, and the sail bellowed
out ahead of us, instantly filling. The boat's motion changed from a hesitant
ploughing through the wave troughs to a skipping surge, water gurgling past the
bow. We jumped from 3.5 knots to about six and are now surfing across a sideways
swell with St Lucia in our sights.
It's a great feeling because, after days of
uncertainty and wallowing, we've hit the reasonably solid belt of eaterly winds
that should deliver us straight to St Lucia. If the winds do hold, we reckon we
could make landfall in less than two weeks, averaging about 7 knots over the
ground as we pick up the North Equatorial current. About a quarter of the fleet
has taken a similar route to us, heading south before turning west. but over a
hundred boats turned right before they got to the Cape Verdes - leaving them
searching for wind between 17N and 20N. They'll have to contend with more
headwinds from Atlantic depressions - something we were really keen to
avoid.
Spinnaker sailing takes more concentration, as the
boat runs in a different way, yawing from side to side as the sail tugs on the
winches in the stern. In a spinnaker broach, this force voercomes the rudder,
and hauls the boat up to windward. We want to avoid this, so we won;t be flying
the kits above 18-20 knots, or anywhere near squalls. We're practising a squall
drill to get the spinnaker down and secured in under a minute, in case we're
mugged by a squall during the night. But in any case, we may well lower the
chute when it's dark to inspect for chafe and to put up a more benign series of
headsails.
With the trades forecast to strengthen next week,
it's likely we'll be using the spinnaker less and less, so we're all eager to
swqueeze some good mileage out of her now.
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