White Pepper
spent 7 days in Nassau at the Nassau Harbor Club Marina waiting for
weather. There was 2 days waiting for the weather to arrive and an
unusual 5 days waiting for it to blow over. There were two strong
associated late season low pressures with trailing cold fronts—very
unusual for this late in the season. The weather was not bad or cold
in Nassau, but the front maintained strong head winds for us--West,
Northwest and North wind for 5 days. Indeed, it was still blowing
light out of the North the day we left. (NOAA had called for SE all
day.) We headed for the Berry Islands and Frazier Hog Cay. We were
delayed by being boarded by the Harbor Patrol. They did not give a
reason, although I suspect accidentally getting close to a cruise
liner had something to do with it. They were very professional, and
we were on our way in 45 minutes. My late friend, Bruce Ray, single
hander, had always spoken well of Frazier Hog as an alternate to
Chubb Cay, just 5 miles away. After an agonizingly slow sail we got
there just at sunset. We used the outer anchorage and did not take a
mooring inside in front of the Bimini Yacht Club. I could not get
the anchor to set in the rocky, grassy bottom. The anchorage was
quite exposed, esp. to the south. I put out all of the chain which
held us all night in the quiet conditions. But I do not think I am
going back to Frazier Hog any time soon.
That
night I checked the weather again. Now there was a mention of yet
another cold front moving off of the Florida coast in two days. It
was very mild. The GRIB files (computer generated predictions)
showed only 10 knots from the north west then clocking East and dying
rapidly. What could go wrong? I even foolishly thought that it
would help. The wind would blow gently from the North. I would set
the sails up to go West. The Gulf Stream would push North. The boat
would go Northwest which was our destination. Sort of like squeezing
a water melon seed between two fingers. Later we were to learn what
that felt like. Besides to wait meant going into Chubb Cay Marina and
paying exorbitant fees. Staying a Frazier Hog did not seem feasible.
We took off.
We
passed the Northwest Channel at noon. There was not much to see—just
a color change as the depth changed from thousands of feet in the
Tongue of the Ocean (blue) to dozens of feet (aquamarine) on the
banks. The famous Northwest Channel Light is long gone and, indeed,
is now a hazard to navigation. In truth with universal use of chart
plotters, navigation lights are no longer necessary. But still it
makes one wonder about a government that will not even maintain the
basic aids to navigation. We made a long slow crossing of the Grand
Bahama Banks exiting them at 3 am via Great Issac (also light
extinguished) and the Hens and Chickens reef. We alternated watches
but did not get much sleep.
Red Sun in Morning, Sailor Take Warning
The
next morning dawned with a red sky--'sailor take warning.' The Gulf
Stream was extraordinarily calm. The water was at times mirror like.
White Pepper trudged
along at 4 knots—two from the sick motor and 2 from the Stream.
Then about noon a light Northwesterly sprung up--”Great” I
thought. Boat speed picked up to 6 knots. Cool wind dried the
sweat. We were in business. Then about 1 pm all hell broke loose with
15+ knots of wind gusting to 20 knots from the North. We were now
only 5 miles east of the axis of the Stream. Thank you NOAA! Thank
you GRIBs! Jan quickly reefed the Genoa. We both reefed the main.
The boat took off to the Northwest on the close reach. We were
making 9 knots, once touching 10. This was 3 and half knots from the
Gulf Stream and 6 and half or seven knots from White
Pepper. The waves were never
too bad. Legends are told of great “elephants” marching down
from the north in these conditions, but we never saw any. There were
a couple of dozen gnarly waves, but White Pepper
shook them all off like the through bred she is. Poor Aphrodite,
however, was completely miserable. She spent the entire afternoon
gripping a cushion with her claws. After the waves set in speed
“dropped” to 8 knots. At least we were making tracks away from
ground zero at a rapid rate. By 3 pm things were reasonable. This
was after we crossed the western wall of the Gulf Stream. We raised
the jetties of Lake Worth (between Palm Beach and West Palm Beach) about 5 pm.
Just
inside the jetties the motor overheated again. We had to shut her
down. It was a really mad scrabble to sail into the crowed Lake
Worth anchorage. Jan expertly steered and wove the boat through the anchorage. She picked out a likely spot. When the time came she brought the boat to a stop at just the right place and dropped the main sail. I was on the bow and let the anchor down. Thankfully, the anchor bit and held.
Jan and
I were both exhausted—mentally and physically—after two days of
grueling boredom , 4 hours of a roller coaster ride and 30 minutes of
sheer panic somehow getting anchored without causing huge damage to
another boat..
For
readers who have patiently read this account of misery are there any
take home lessons? Yes. Never believe the GRIBs, but most of you knew
that anyway. Never go out in the Gulf Stream when there is any
chance of North Wind, but everyone knows that. Third, I guess you
got to do what you have to do. If we had returned to Nassau, it
might have been another 2 or 3 weeks before the weather opened up
again. This year has been severe. Despite all of the losses, we are
very grateful and glad to be back in the USA. Indeed it seems to me
nothing short of miraculous given all of the set backs of the past
two months. And finally, Aphrodite, is a really great boat kitty.
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