Leaving the Caribbean behind
A year afloat: to the Caribbean and back
Sam and Alex Fortescue
Thu 2 Jun 2011 21:00
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28:33.26N
79:08.93W
During the night, Summer Song accelerated to about
9 knots. When Alex came down after her watch, she was still quivering and
breathing heavily with the exhilaration. From my eyrie in the foc's'le, I could
hear the water bubbling urgently past the hull just half an inch from my ear,
and the rocking motion of the boat died away completely, as if we'd been gripped
by some great smooth force. After spending much of the day heading about a knot
of current, it was a relief to finally wheel north into the Gulf Stream and feel
it shooting us forward.
Since then, things have taken a slightly unexpected
turn. One of the main reasons for picking this route was the expectation that we
would have several knots of current helping us the whole way. But it doesn't
seem to have worked out that way. We're close hauled, heading more or less due
north, with a mild current against us and randomly choppy swell. It seems as if
we slipped out of the Gulf Stream in the early hours. Graham says the colour of
the water is unmistakeable when you are in the current. Glancing over the side
as yet another wad of sargasso weed floats past in the cobalt blue sea, this was
not it, he declared.
Nonetheless, things seem to be going pretty well.
We had expected a low wind passage, but on the dot of 7pm, a good north eaterky
breeze sprang up from nowhere, so we've been sailing since Grand Bahama.
Motoring along yesterday afternoon in the lee of the islands, we had a chance to
stop and bathe off the stern in 1000m of water. We also had a brief excitement
when a large tanker called Bahama Spirit swung out of Freeport and angled
directly towards us. We called up the skipper on the VHF and alerted him to the
presence of a small sailing boat on his port bow and he promised to 'keep
clear'. Five minutes later, we found ourselves swerving astern of him as he
ploughed obliviously on by. Unexpectedly, given that we're afloat in America's
great east coast artery, we haven't seen another ship since last
night.
I've got the unshakeable feeling that we've now
left the Caribbean behind us. I had the 5am to 8am dawn watch this morning, and
found myself shivering under three layers. It's warm in the direct sun, but the
air temperature has definitely fallen. The 'real'Caribbean lies far behind us -
with the smell of grilling chicken and fish, lush rainforest reaching right down
to the shore and cloud-wreathed volcanos stretching up above us. There was a
thrilling air of strangeness and exoticism to the Windward Islands which the
Bahamas, with many of the outward trappings of the Caribbean, did not share.
There's much to look forward to ahead, but it will be very different - more
about yacht clubs, restos and meeting friends.
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