The Blue View: What broke on the Atlantic?

Our South Atlantic crossing is officially over, and it's time for me to go back through all the passage log sheets and compile the list of everything that broke on this passage. We make an entry once an hour on our passages, logging our current position, speed, course and sea and weather conditions. We also use our log sheets to note any unusual occurrences like lunar eclipses, green flashes or Flying Dutchman sightings. What constitutes an 'unusual occurrence' is somewhat subjective and arbitrary, however. It often depends on how long we've been at sea - what seems ordinary at the beginning of a long passage sometimes seems pretty remarkable 30 days later. The initial sheets have entries like “Spotted several southern right whales at 0930”, while the latter sheets have things like “Saw an anvil shaped cloud” or “Thought I saw a dolphin at 1015, but it was just a stick”. We also use the log sheets to keep track of problems and breakages that occur. If I fix a problem, it still gets logged and then checked off, so that I can keep track of recurring problems (and also so I can feel like I did something en route). log sheet for nine of cups

When we complete a passage, I use the log sheets to compile part of the 'to-do' list, then go back to the prior 'to-do' lists and add anything that wasn't completed previously. Any mission critical items – things that must be completed before we sail away again - are highlighted. If we are going to be in a place for a few weeks, I prioritize the remaining items on the list and make my best guess as to the time required for each. (Then I double the time estimates, which Marcie doubles once again, making them fairly close to reality), and use these as the basis for negotiating boat chore time versus time for those frivolous things Marcie likes to do, like seeing the local sights.

to do list on nine of cups

This passage, once we got away from the stormy Cape Town weather, was quite benign, and the list of things that broke isn't too bad. The biggest item was the whisker pole, which broke early on. If you've followed the Blue Views over the years, you may remember that this is the third time it has broken – twice before during the Indian Ocean crossing. Each time, it was the telescoping inner pole that broke, and each time I cut it off a little shorter to make it functional again. It's now about half of its original length ( we now refer to it as 'stubby'), but as long as we partially reef the headsail, it is still usable. It will have to wait until we are back in the U.S. to either refurb or replace it. Beyond that, there are a couple of corroded connectors to replace, there's a small issue with the HF antenna and a loose wire that needs to be secured. All in all, a good passage.

broken whisker pole on nine of cups

That's not to say there aren't a great many things to do. The varnish is way overdue for attention, the stainless all needs polishing, the winches and blocks need cleaning and lubing after all that Namibia dust … the list for routine maintenance is quite long. In addition, now that we are in the steamy tropics again, we need to dig out and mount a few more fans, find our hatch screens and stow all our cold weather gear, clothes and blankets.

But we are in French Guiana, another exotic place, and quite honestly, I can't think of a better place to make some repairs.

The Blue View - What we'd do differently

We recently received a nice email from Norris and Marina who live in Newfoundland. They've cruised in the past and are planning to sail off into the sunset again in the next year or two. They asked, given what we know now, what we would do differently. What boat would we choose, and how would we equip her? Great questions! Here is how we responded. What boat would we choose?

Firstly, when we started out, we really didn't imagine sailing to Patagonia and the nether regions of the high latitudes, so we didn't look for a boat built for it. Nine of Cups is a well found boat – she sails well, is sea kindly, and has shown her mettle in storms and the occasional hard grounding. On the other hand, there is lots to be said for a steel or aluminum hull.

Many of our friends have made the switch from monohulls to catamarans, but they have also decided to stick around in the lower latitudes. We met a very seasoned offshore catamaran sailor in Ecuador who told us that he wouldn't consider anything under 65 feet for the high latitudes, and was particularly fond of the gunboat - but now we're talking real dollars. We certainly aren't qualified to talk about the pros and cons of catamarans, but can say that while we see hundreds in the warmer climes, we see far fewer sailing the high latitudes. So even if we were inclined to buy a catamaran, unless it was old or in poor shape, we couldn't have afforded one large enough to go to the places we've been.

Something we would like is a pilot house. An open cockpit is wonderful on those balmy, tropical passages, but not so pleasant when we are freezing our tushes off on a wet and cold passage. We totally enclosed our cockpit in canvas on our first venture to Patagonia, but that wasn't an ideal solution - we were continually afraid that the winds or waves would destroy it, and it was awkward getting into and out of it in a hurry when something on deck needed attention.

So, while we are happy with our Liberty 458, if we were starting again, I think we would take a closer look at the used steel or aluminum pilot house monohulls on the market. There are a number of well built aluminum boats, the Ovni and the Boreal, for example, as well as some great steel boats, but the newer ones are expensive and well above our price range. If we found a good used one in our price range, we might have considered it instead of Cups.

boreal another boat option

How would we equip her?

Heater. We definitely would have added a heater. Both the stand-alone diesel stoves and the compact forced air diesel heaters have their pros and cons, and we would probably would have gone with one of the compact, engine room types for Cups, despite the extra power requirements. Aesthetically, I like the looks of the standalone stoves, but we could never figure out a way of installing one that would have fit well in our interior without a major reconstruction project.

Generator vs. Alternative Energy. We have gone back and forth on this one. When we bought Cups, it had no method of charging the batteries other than starting the engine. We decided we would add either a generator or a wind generator and solar panels. We decided on solar and wind generators, and for the most part, we have been happy with the decision. There are better versions of both now available than there were 15 years ago. On the other hand, on those cloudy, calm days when we have to start the engine for an hour or two, or on a passage when the solar/wind gen doesn't keep up with the autopilot and instruments, we think about having a generator. I like the idea of a DC generator, and Ample and Whispergen were on our list if we had gone that route. (Whispergen's entire facilities were wiped out by the earthquakes in New Zealand, and I don't think they recovered, BTW.) The arguments against were the cost, the noise, the added complexity and the space it would have taken up in the engine room - making the engine itself that much harder to work on. Were we to do it again, I think we would have made the same decision.

windgen

Prop Generator. Adding a generator to the prop shaft is something that has been on my todo list for years, and I just got around to it a few months ago. This is something I now wish I had done much sooner.

propgen

Geriatric considerations. With each passing year, we look for ways to make handling Cups easier. We both agree Cups is the right size for us, and have no desire for a bigger boat. We've made changes to the sail handling and reefing systems to make it easier for us; added a line and fairleads so that we can use the windlass for hoisting the dinghy. (Marcie used to get stuck with grinding duty, while I kept it off the brightwork and from getting away when the wind picked up.) I'm sure I can think of a dozen other things we've done to make life aboard less physically demanding.

 

lazy jacks

HF radio/Sailmail vs Sat communications. The hardware costs for Sat phones are now probably less expensive than buying and installing a Pactor and HF radio. On the other hand, Sailmail is less expensive to operate. Winlink is free, but requires a ham license and doesn't work as well as Sailmail in many places. An HF radio allows us to participate in radio nets, but a Sat phone may be better in emergency situations... there are many pros and cons to both approaches. When we started out, the choice was definitely easier to make, and we went with an HF radio. Now the decision is not so clear-cut with so many Sat options, both in hardware and operating costs. I think we would still go with an HF radio, but if the Sat phone operating costs continue to drop, we might change our minds.

Autopilot vs Windvane - We went the autopilot route, and eventually added a totally redundant autopilot as a backup, after a very long passage that required handsteering when our original A/P crapped out. Many of our cruising friends have a serious windvane system and an autopilot as backup. Some of them rarely have problems, while others seem to be constantly making repairs. For bigger, heavier boats, the windvane has to be substantial, and for Cups, with her hydraulic steering, it would have required a system with its own rudder. The cost would have been more than the backup autopilot, but it would have greatly reduced our power requirements on a passage. I think we would have made the same decision now, but it is a close call.

Dinghy. We initially started with a Port-a-Bote, one of those folding boats that can be stowed on the rail. This turned out to be one of our less than optimal decisions. While the boat itself can be folded up rather compactly and stowed on the rail, we discovered that the seats were large and bulky, and probably took up more space than the boat. In addition, the seats deteriorated in the sun in only a couple of years, and we had a continual slow leak of water through the bottom seam. It didn't tow well at all, and was tricky to unfold on deck. It didn't take long to see why there are 100,000 inflatables and only 100 Port-a-Botes out there. Our preference now is a 9' (2.8m) rigid inflatable. It is big and sturdy enough to haul an amazing amount of fuel, provisions and/or people, and stows nicely on our foredeck.

portabote

All in all, with hindsight being 20/20, we feel we did okay (except for that darned Port-a-Bote). We learned as we went and could have probably saved some money, time and aggravation along the way, but that's all part of the sailing experience. Looking back, the only real change we would have made is starting our cruising lives sooner!

The Blue View - Our Daily Bread

finished bread One of the first things we run out of when on a long passage is fresh bread. It is also one of the easiest problems to remedy. My night watches are the perfect time for making bread. It helps pass the time, and I can still pop my head up and take a look around every five minutes or so. I make the dough during my 9PM to midnight watch, let it rise while I'm sleeping, then try to time it so that it is hot and just out of the oven at the end of my 3AM to 6AM watch. The smell of the freshly baked bread greets Marcie when she gets up, and we enjoy a slice or two over our morning cuppas while discussing whatever happened (or broke) during the night.

Kalamata olive bread is one of our favorites. This recipe makes one large loaf.

 

Kalamata Bread
Recipe Type: Bread
Author: David Lynn
Ingredients
  • ½ cup (100 ml) warm water
  • 1 tsp (3g) dry yeast
  • ½ cup (75g) flour
  • 1/3 cup (66 ml) warm water
  • 1 Tbs (20ml) honey or ½ Tbs (6g) brown sugar
  • 2 tsp (6g) dry yeast
  • 1 Tbs (5g) rosemary
  • 1 Tbs (5g) oregano
  • 1/8 cup (30ml) olive oil
  • 2-1/2 cup (375g) flour
  • 1 cup (200g) kalamata olives, pitted and sliced lengthwise
  • 1 tsp (15g) salt
  • optional: ½ cup (125g) sunflower and/or pumpkin seeds
  • cornmeal as needed
Instructions
  1. Starter: Water should be just warm to the touch. If it is too hot, it will kill the yeast. Dissolve the yeast in the warm water, then add the flour and stir until thoroughly mixed. Cover and let it stand 30 minutes.
  2. Dough: Combine water, honey or sugar, and yeast, and mix until yeast is dissolved. Add herbs, oil, flour, the starter, olives, and seeds, and mix well. Move to a floured surface, and sprinkle salt over dough. Knead for 5 minutes, adding flour as needed. Put the dough in a greased bowl, cover and let rise until doubled, about 1 hour. Transfer to a floured surface, punch it down to get rid of air bubbles, and shape (don't knead again). Grease a cookie sheet and dust with cornmeal, then transfer the dough to the cookie sheet. Let rise in a warm place for two hours. (On my night watch, I let it rise for 3 hours during my off-watch).
  3. Preheat oven to 450F (230C). Raise the upper oven rack to the second level above the flame and slide an oven proof pan onto the lower rack. About 5 minutes before putting the bread in the oven, add about 1 cup (250ml) of water to the pan. This produces steam for the first 5-10 minutes of baking. The steam keeps the outer layer of dough soft and flexible for a few more minutes, allowing the yeast to continue rising. The result will be a slightly lighter loaf with a brown crust. Score the top of the loaf with a sharp knife or razor and slide the bread into the oven. Bake at 450 (230C) for 10 minutes, then reduce heat to 400F (200C) and continue baking for another 20-30 minutes. Bread is done when you get a slightly hollow sound when the loaf is rapped with a knuckle.