After rereading it, I noticed that our most recent log update (about our journey around Cape Hatteras) was more or less just a dull log of events, without much analysis or deep thoughts. This is probably because most of it was written while underway, and because I wanted to get it uploaded as soon as we were in the harbor. So let's devote a little space to a brief postmortem discussion.
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What we did wrong |
What we did right |
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Didn't prepare the boat adequately |
Got enough fuel for passage even though we weren't really planning on it |
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Didn't take seasickness meds early enough |
Paid attention to the weather |
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Should have hugged the coast more (maybe) |
Reefed and unreefed at appropriate times |
The first item on our mistakes list probably isn't obvious from a reading of our log, because I didn't mention all the little problems we had. Actually, they qualify as minor annoyances rather than major problems. Our companionway hatch slid back and forth, banging each time until we tied it down with a length of line; it never had done that before, so maybe it's just loosened up with use. The table extension leaf banged around a bit -- we need to come up with a way to fasten it down -- and a few things that weren't secured very well went flying onto the cabin sole. Water splashed in through the hatch in the forward head, even though it was tightened down; most of it stayed in the shower area, but a little splashed back onto our bedding. We need to improve the hatch seal, obviously. We had noticed water getting into the forward head area before, but attributed it to the solar vent in the shower, which we had closed before this passage. Our dinghy rubbed an awful lot against the arch as we bounced through the rough water. Part of it was that it wasn't fully inflated, part was that the buckles on the straps we use to tie it down had gotten a bit rusty and didn't hold well, and part was just that the dinghy rubs against the arch, period. We had bought some rubber reinforcement rub-rail stuff at the dealer in Annapolis but haven't installed it yet. We really should do it before subjecting the dink to more rough treatment. (Actually, we should strap the dinghy onto the foredeck when we go offshore. We did this for our passages to and from the Bahamas.)
Our bodies weren't prepared well enough, either. Britt was a little bummed that he's not getting over his tendency for seasickness (although this was the first time on Windom that he actually got throwing-up-sick). I pointed out that we had spent the last month and a half either on land or tied to a dock, so although we probably did get used to the motion while cruising, we'd lost that acclimatization. After all, when we went back to Colorado after a year's absence, we noticed the air seemed awfully thin up there!
It probably makes sense to take anti-motion-sickness drugs well before they are needed, even though we hate to take medication unless we really have to. We had both been munching on candied ginger, which didn't help at all; we have Bonine, which works for me, and some Stugeron that a Canadian cruiser gave us (it's not available in the US). Neither seemed to do the trick for Britt this time, although Stugeron has worked before, so maybe we'll get a physician friend to prescribe the scopolamine patch.
Speaking of bodily preparation, it's clearly important to be in shape. I was feeling pretty achy and sore when I woke up after my long, rough shift. My shoulder muscles were tired from all the winch cranking, and my legs felt like they did after the first ski day of the season, probably just from the effort of walking around on a bucking, heeled-over boat. Both of us got somewhat dehydrated, too.
As we strolled around Wrightsville Beach the next day, we discussed whether we should have tried to get closer in to the shore on the stretch between Cape Hatteras and Cape Lookout. A check with Reed's Almanac showed that the Gulf Stream edge is on average only 10 miles offshore there. We were between 12 and 15 miles offshore, so maybe getting closer in would have gotten us out of it -- but maybe not, depending on the Stream's actual position. On the other hand, we would have had to have driven more directly into the wind (yuck) and we would have had to angle out again to avoid the Cape Lookout shoals. Probably we should have done it, but maybe tacked at a sharper angle inward. But this whole area has a bad reputation for a reason. The confluence of hydrography, geography, and meteorology here, where North Carolina sticks its butt out into the Atlantic, combine to make it a nasty place regardless of the circumstances.
We did a lot right, though. Since going around the outside had been a possibility from the beginning, we had made sure to get enough fuel in Annapolis that we could motor the whole way if we had to. We also had watched the weather carefully. As it turned out, the forecast was generally correct, although the wind was stronger than forecast most of the time and did not swing around as far to the north as predicted. We are astonished at the cruisers who blithely head out on passages without even listening to the coastal forecast on VHF, let alone the offshore report. (On the other hand, we roll our eyes at the cruisers who wait in Nassau until Herb gives them a "weather window" for the 60 or so miles to the Abacos.)
Finally, we are adherents of what might be called the Chicago style of sailing: reef early and reef often! (And unreef often, too). Bob, our autopilot, does a great job of steering provided the sails aren't being overpowered. With roller furling on both main and jib, we can safely and easily alter the amount of exposed sail area, so there is no reason not to adjust to conditions as they change. We were careful not to have too much sail out under tough conditions. We were also quick to roll out more when winds moderated, so as to keep our speed up, and we were not reluctant to put on the engine when we couldn't make reasonable speed under sail. Speed is safety when you're racing nightfall or bad weather.
To sum it all up, our trip around the justly feared Cape Hatteras was reasonably good, a little uncomfortable at times but never scary or dangerous. The bad aspects of the passage were generally due to bad preparation, and our good experiences (or lack of disastrous happenings!) were generally due to good preparation. There's a moral in there somewhere.