Arrival in St. Helena

Day 13

Arrival at St. Helena Island, South Atlantic Ocean

Passage stats:

• Total miles sailed - 1,396
• Total days: 12.25 days (294 hrs)
• Average speed: 4.75 knots
• Hours motored during passage:  4

A mild enough night livened up with several showers which had the watch crew scampering to get everything down below and out of the rain and then hauling it back up again once the brief shower finished...only to repeat the same exercise three more times during a three hour watch.

The 0600 change of watch had us 50 miles from the anchorage off Jamestown under a thick, grey sky. Cups quickened her pace like a horse heading for the barn. About 45 nm out, the shadowy silhouette of St. Helena Island came into view on the horizon. Literally a mountaintop, its craggy peaks are quite impressive poking out from its submarine depths towards the sky. It was certainly a welcome sight for sailors who've just spent nearly two weeks at sea. I remember the first time we arrived at St. Helena. Jelly cat was aboard then, and she paced the deck continuously. She could smell land long before we sighted it and when we finally did have the island in view, she was totally enthralled. It's one of our favorite pics of Jelly.

About 20 nm out, we radioed ahead to let them know we were approaching. They welcomed us and as we neared the mooring field a few hours later, Port Control radioed us with instructions to pick up any available yellow mooring. There were a couple small yachts tied up, but none appeared to have anyone aboard. I had my lasso ready with a huge bowline in the end to pick up the mooring. We did a drive-by and after one failed attempt determined my bowline, though huge, was plainly not huge enough. I tied a new one and we cruised by, but I missed again (Annie Oakley I'm not). David tried his hand and missed as well. These were not your round mooring balls, but rather huge,wide, flat mooring discs with rings on top. The bowline couldn't slip easily down its sides as it would with a ball. On the fourth attempt, I altered my strategy a bit and voila...we were attached.

Cups has a lot of freeboard and therefore we're pretty high off the water. Maneuvering the mooring close enough to put lines through the ring was a challenge. We could, of course, have launched the dinghy, but the wind was up, plus we're lazy. With much finagling, David managed to get our mooring lines through the ring by hanging off the side of the boat. No photos...we were too busy...but they would have been interesting. He lost his hat in the process...this has been a two-hat passage unfortunately.

Once settled on the mooring, we confirmed with Port Control that we could check in in the morning and then went about tidying up Cups. We finally sat in the saloon with a glass of wine and relaxed. A long day after a long passage and here we were...all moored on a mountaintop in the middle of the South Atlantic Ocean. Welcome to St. Helena!

Lüderitz to St. Helena - Days 11 & 12

Day 11

Miles to go: 252

A rip-roaring night of strong winds and big seas that tossed us around like a toy boat in a bathtub with a toddler making waves. A full moon gazed down on us from a clear, star-filled sky. Waves broke over the side, dousing the on-watch crew with ice cold sea water.  Down below was no place to be unless you were snug in a bunk. In contrast to the still, warm afternoon, these 25-30 knot winds were cold and penetrating. We recovered the layers we'd shed and bundled up once again.

On a broad reach, the wind smacked us hard in the face and our eyes teared up constantly. With a brilliant moon illuminating the seas, we could see the building waves coming at us, their frothy, white-capped crests rising and breaking, and then the loud, nerve-wracking thud as they crashed into the hull. Cups would hesitate and shudder for a moment like a boxer shaking off a well-placed right hook, then get back to her course. To add to the merriment of the evening, it showered off and on, BUT we were at last covering some miles.  And then a grey dawn broke and the wind settled down to 15-18 knots. The sea maintained its waves and chop till late morning, then it, too, cooperated in getting us on our way a bit more comfortably, though with a definite chill.

Much of our time lately has been consumed with long chats about our future because after getting across the Atlantic and eventually up to the Carib, we have no plans. This is unlike us. We usually have a zillion plans which admittedly change frequently, but we do have plans. Big world, so many things to see and places to go. We've considered heading to Europe...expensive and crowded, but it's Europe. Or maybe hanging out in the Carib for awhile...visiting Cuba now that it's legal for Americans or spending time in Central America. Of course, we could head through the Canal again and cross the Pacific, the easy way this time...on the Coconut Milk Run and end up in Asia. Or maybe just head up to the States for awhile and enjoy easy sailing on the East Coast and up to Maritime Canada. Then what? We're not getting any younger, but we're healthy and not feeling all that old. We're pretty blessed and we know it. There's still some sailing years left in us and in Cups. David said it so well the other day...sailing on Cups defines who and what we are right now. Closing that chapter on life isn't something we could easily do. So stay tuned...we'll figure it all out.

In the meantime, with any luck, we should be in St. Helena in two days.

Day 12

Miles to go: 139

A mild night  and reasonable progress towards St. Helena.  The full moon rose abruptly. One minute the eastern horizon was dark and the next ..boom, an explosion of light and there was the moon...huge and orange! It shone ever so so brightly, much to the chagrin of the stars that seem to fade in the ambient moon glow.

And not to be outdone, the sun made a spectacular appearance this morning, too, heralding its arrival with such vivid color that there should have been a regal fanfare to accompany it. WOW! The moon was still up when the sun appeared, but it scuttled down towards the horizon rather quickly as the sun rose higher, and soon faded from view. A pleasant day filled with chat and minor chores and a couple of jibes as the wind tended more southerly, then easterly. It's still quite cool here though we're only 17 degrees south of the equator. I know, I know...soon we'll be complaining about the heat and humidity. Bring it on!

At the captain's prompting,whenever it's been calm enough the last few days, I've been practicing my lassoing skills on the aft deck. There were no visitor moorings the last time we visited St. Helena, but there are now and we're required to use them. There are, however, no mooring pick-up pennants, so lassoing the big mooring ball is the way to pick it up and secure our lines to it. David, the Colorado cowboy, has been coaching me and I'm getting reasonably proficient at lassoing the deck box though I'd never make it on the rodeo circuit. We'll see how lassoing a live, bucking mooring ball works out.

One more night of watches ... St. Helena tomorrow!

Lüderitz to St. Helena - Days 9 & 10

days 9 & 10

Day 9  

Miles to go: 426

Ever since David saw the green flash the other night, we've been sitting on deck at sunset trying to capture a green flash on video. We've even changed the time zone to Atlantic/St. Helena time (UTC-Coordinated Universal Time), and gained an hour, so that I'm up at sunset. So far, no luck on the flash, but we keep on trying.

It's Prime Meridian Day today ... another of those imaginary, longitudinal lines where east meets west. We crossed the line around Noon and we entered the Western Hemisphere once again. Cups hasn't been in the Western waters since our little foray to New Zealand's Chatham Islands back in 2011 at the other side of the Hemisphere.  At that time, a storm had us back and forth across the International Dateline about six times trying to get back to mainland New Zealand and the Eastern Hemisphere. Today, however as we crossed longitude 000E to 000W, there was no drama. We just floated across with no fanfare or trials whatsoever. I took a video of the GPS during the crucial seconds and we'll celebrate with cookies or a chocolate bar for tonight's dessert.

Wind? There is none.

Day 10

Miles to go: 368

Sometimes there are light winds and sometimes, like now, there's absolutely no wind...none at all. It was a long, dark, boring, windless night following a windless day. The sails are flapping and flogging...beating themselves up looking for just a light breeze to fill them, but to no avail. The rigging is clanking and banging. By noon, we'd racked up a dismal total of 58 miles to the good for the entire 24-hour period.

Why not motor, you ask? Well, you can't motor across an entire ocean and conserving fuel is always a major consideration. "Patience", says the captain, "patience. The wind will come." Just after noon, we hauled in the jib, shut down the autopilot and drifted on an ocean flat enough to see my reflection. A long period, ever-present, southwest swell was the only thing to provide any momentum, and at that we moved less than a knot an hour, in the wrong direction. We drifted and chatted, drifted and chatted. We luxuriated in the warm sunshine. Neither of us was tired enough to nap. Around 1530, the wind gen creaked and began to turn, ever so slowly. The flag fluttered and came alive. The mainsail flapped a different tune and began to fill. 5 knots, 8 knots, 10 knots ...we let out the jib and we were off again.

Be careful what you wish for. The wind continued to freshen. Just before dark, we put a reef in the main...just in case. David could see a band of ominous black clouds on the horizon, and the jib we'd so happily let out a few hours before, was hastily reefed, as we met a nasty squall line head-on. We bounced and bumped our way through the squalls for an hour or so, then settled in for a boisterous night. What a shot to our earlier in the day complacency. Yowza!

A full moon rose. The wind backed and steadied at 20-25 knots and we charged ahead. St. Helena, here we come!

Let's get there ... Arrival in St. Helena at last!