A Transat: an exhilarating time…

It often starts like that. At anchor, a quiet evening on board, having impromptu drinks with friends. You put the world to rights, talk about the people you’ve met, the latest equipment you’ve found and, of course, your plans for forthcoming trips. That’s how this latest adventure began. I have known Jean-Louis for at least 15 years, and I have been enjoying his company more since he has retired, as we have often sailed together these last few years, each of us on our respective cats. And that evening, in a Caribbean anchorage, we discussed the possibility of going back to the Mediterranean. Not as a fast delivery trip, but via the BVI, the Turks and Caicos Islands, the Bahamas, Bermuda, the Azores and finally Gibraltar. A great trip where we could go AWOL and discover all of these islands we dream about. Eleuthera, for example, where we could swim on the famous pink sand beach, or Nassau, a magical stopover in the Bahamas…
I’ve crossed the Atlantic several times from Europe to the Caribbean, and also the Pacific, but I’ve never made the “return” journey. So this will be a first for me. For this nice little cruise there will be four of us on board: Jean-Louis, the owner; a couple who are friends of his and who have come from France especially for this trip; and yours truly. Despite being invited, my wife, with whom I have just spent five months on our catamaran in the West Indies, as we do every year, has decided to stay home and “look after the garden”…
We finally get everything organized, and set a date to join up at the boat in Saint Martin on May 10th. We slip our lines a week later. A week during which part of the crew did the victualling and the other part familiarized themselves with the new “MaxSea Time Zero” navigation software, and checked over and sorted a few things out on this fantastic boat.

Not easy to see the mainsail from the helm. Essential, however, for controlling

And we’re off on a great cruise!

“Hérénui” is a Sunreef 62, weighing in at 38 tonnes, equipped with two 125hp motors, a carbon fiber mast, a brand new suit of sails by US Sails, a satellite positioning beacon, and above all, an incredible level of comfort… A bit of a change from my “Belize”! All overseen with disconcerting ease by Jean-Louis, a retired cosmetic surgeon who has been living on his boat for seven years, and who makes the crossing both ways every year. A sailor and a man who exudes competence, approachability, kindness and a rarely seen know-how, who will go the extra mile to ensure the comfort of his friends on board. This promises to be a really enjoyable sail.
May 17th we left the dock at Aqua Marina on the Dutch side of Sint Maarten, and exited the lagoon back into the Caribbean Sea, after having negociated the two bridges and filled up with 1,900 liters of diesel. There was one more anchorage, at Orient Bay, to enjoy a last dinner of lobster before setting off…
We’re bound for the BVI. The wind is easterly at 14 knots, allowing us to make 7 knots under main and genoa. We stop at Virgin Gorda for the obligatory swim at The Baths, then North Sound, Bitter End, Jost Van Dyke, and an unforgettable evening at Foxy’s.

The Bahamas: a maze, where it helps to know how to navigate between the cays…

Saturday May 24th, after doing our outbound clearance, here we are en route for the Turks and Caicos. We pass by the islands of Culebrita (in the Spanish Virgin Islands) and Puerto Rico. We are even accompanied, albeit too briefly, by a whale. Unfortunately there’s not even enough time to take a photo…
With favorable winds we are really enjoying sailing along under main and gennaker.
May 27th; it’s very early morning and we arrive in the immense lagoon via the pass between South Caicos and Long Cay, where we anchor, before completing the entry formalities. After breakfast, with stamps in our passports, we pull up the anchor and set off on a worrying crossing, as we’ve only got between 80cm and 5 meters of water under the keels. Imagine our noble 38 tonne craft charging along at 5 or maybe 6 knots in such shallow water. Our confidence grows over the course of the day it takes to cross this inland sea, and we make the most of the turquoise waters.
In the following days, we start our trip through the Bahamas, after having cleared in at Abraham’s Bay on Mayaguana Island.
This first contact with the Bahamas was quite hard work. To get to the only Customs office, you have to approach by dinghy, through a channel marked with reeds. Once there, we grounded on the sand, or more accurately, silt! Our skipper, dressed all in white, stands fixed to the wheel of the dinghy, and doesn’t get out. So it’s me who jumps out, and has to pull the dinghy like a horse on a canal tow-path, as far as the dock. It’s only when we’re at the Customs office that we discover that there’s a bit of a tide here, and if we waited a little (which we did) we could leave again in the dinghy, nice and dry…
The Bahamas comprises about 700 islands and islets, and the archipelago makes up part of the Commonwealth. This means that any visitors from European Community countries do not require a visa for stays of less than three months. One lifetime wouldn’t be enough to discover each of the islands in turn. Popular and lively, somewhat trendy, in the north, the Bahamas tend to be a little more discreet the further south you go.
The evening started off well, with the champagne chilling, when the captain decided to make water. He fired up the watermaker, then nothing. The unit had cut out. Everyone had a theory. We decided we’d better restrict our water use: the dishwasher stays off for now, and we’ll try and find a solution in the morning - we’ll sleep on it…
At 5.30 the following morning, we’re on deck ready to strip the watermaker down. We quickly discover the cause of the short-circuit: a trickle of fresh water on the electrical contacts. Equipped with a screwdriver and a hairdryer, we opened up the housing, stripped it down, dried the contacts, and bingo, problem solved. It all started up again fine, and we had no more trouble the whole trip.
It was a busy day. After the repairs and a few equipment checks, we were sailing with up to 17 knots apparent wind. The boat was going along well, and we even ended the day by catching a barracuda. This was the only one we caught in the Bahamas, despite having paid a fortune for a Fishing Permit!

Sailing a 62 foot cat displacing 38 tonnes is always disconcerting in one meter of water.

The Exumas: a sailor’s dream

This is where we began the sailing I had been dreaming about: discovering the Exumas, which are comprised of a string of 365 islands and islets, which for the most part are deserted and uninhabited. Of course we could only visit a few, but it really is delightful, a natural Eden, dotted with secret anchorages, magnificent bays, and welcoming little harbors. We stopped in Georgetown, the capital, then Eleuthera with its famous 5km long pink sand beach. One of the most beautiful beaches in the world!
After leaving the relaxing pink sand, we arrived at New Providence Island, and the magical town of Nassau. Navigating here demands a lot of attention, as there are many cays and the charts are not overly detailed. Anchored not far from the island’s inescapable tourist trap, the Atlantis Hotel, we made the most of the party atmosphere.
Following a few days of physical activity such as walking, something we have been lacking since we set off, we returned to the north of Eleuthera, and to Spanish Wells.
Navigation here is normally easy, following the edge of the reef, but a coral head which we struck at 5 knots dictated otherwise. It was 1pm, with the sun directly overhead, giving us great visibility. Now we were trapped between the coral reef and the beach, unable to see a way out. Both keels had touched. Nervously, in silence, the whole crew searched for any kind of exit. After two hours we miraculously found a pass which we had already tried. But with the rising tide, we could finally get through! Phew! We were able to carry on towards Gun Point, a little paradise resembling a Polynesian anchorage.
As soon as we had arrived, we dived in to check the damage. Eventually, more shaken than hurt, we realized that the boat is solidly built, and even though the noise was very loud to us, there were only a few gouges showing in the polyester coating of the keels. No water was coming, so we could carry on.
It was already June 9th by the time we had visited the Abacos, and so it was time to head off towards Bermuda, about 750 miles distant. Aeolus [the Greek god of wind] was not spoiling us: sail changes were all too frequent: first we had up the mainsail and gennaker, then as the wind changed, there we were with the genoa, before the wind faded to nothing and we had to get everything down and carry on under motor.
During the night we gained a little from the Gulf Stream, which gave us an extra two knots. With a full moon and flat sea, there was not a cloud in the sky. Nor a fish for that matter. We were in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle, and this surreal nocturnal atmosphere played on our minds, with all the stories we have heard or read about.
The entrance to St. George’s, on St. George’s Island, is particularly well marked, and leads into very British surroundings - a real change of scenery. The Customs Officers are welcoming and very helpful; the town is full of charm, and we even find a store where we can complete our final provisioning. Fortunately we only needed to top up our supplies, as a few kilos of fruit and vegetables came to more than two hundred US dollars!!!!!
Our departure from Bermuda was planned for the 16th. The route was prepared, the weather forecast seemed favorable, and we had 1,950 miles ahead of us.
Jean-Louis had asked me not to forget warm clothes, foul weather gear and other essential clothing when we had discussed the return trip, and in particular this leg of it… As it turned out, he told us, it was the best crossing he had ever done. Sunshine, temperatures touching 27°C (80°F), a comfortable wind on the beam, rarely forward, two big squalls, and a bit of dampness during the night watches coming into the Azores. In short, a really enjoyable sail on this comfortable cat which was easily making 200 mile days (our best day’s run was 223 miles).
In fact we covered the 1,950 miles in ten days and a few hours, keeping on a pretty straight course. Not bad, eh? Sure, the engines rumbled a bit, but that’s better than being stuck out there with no wind… And throughout the trip, life continued with reading, navigation, washing up (done by the dishwasher) and laundry (also done by machine, just a different one).

A nice wahoo ?, ready to go under the knife of our captain, a former surgeon!

The Azores

Our arrival in the Azores was easy. We decided not to stop at Horta, because the owner didn’t want to be alongside another boat, so no beers for us at the famous Peter Café Sport on the island of Faial; we stopped instead at Ponta Delgada marina, a big new port development on the volcanic island of Sao Miguel, whose monuments recount five centuries of history.
After a few days, an island tour and revictualling at the well-stocked local market, we set off for Gibraltar. Beautiful weather, with 15 to 18 knots of wind on the beam and sometimes even aft of the beam, we covered the 1,050 miles in just over five days. We arrived off Gibraltar in the morning, with nearly three knots of favorable current through the Straits. We made a quick stop at the fuel dock to fill up without needing to complete Customs formalities (€0.85 per liter is the stuff of dreams… particularly when you need 1,300 liters!), and then set off again bound for Ibiza.
It was now that the weather turned, with fog for two days, heavy shipping traffic, then strong headwinds. Mooring was impossible in any of the island’s harbors, so we had to use an open anchorage, which wasn’t too comfortable, and given the forecast we decided to set off again immediately, bound for the cat’s home port: La Grande Motte (France)…

Watermaker broken down: everyone in the bilge trying to fix it… with a hairdryer and a screwdriver!