Commander’s Weather had told us about a cold front which would pass over us
as we approached the coast. Late this afternoon as we were off Cape Ann,
Glorious May Sky became black and ominous. The wind quickly rose from 8
knots into the 20′s. Brian, Jamie and Jonathan added two more reefs as the
rain began to fall. The wind continued into 30′s with one gust seen at 42
knots. Then came the lightning. At the first flash I decided to unplug my
computer so that if we lost the rest of the electronics we would still have
charts into Portland Harbor. I removed the machine from its docking station
and shut down the power to it. Now, many months and thousands of miles ago
our friend Tom Clements told us to place the computer into the oven in these
cases as this would provide a shield against lightning entering the cabin.
However, Tom never said what to do if the electrical storm was
contemporaneous with a roasting leg of lamb.

In the event I place the lap top on my bunk and sandwiched it between two
pillows, the value of feathers as an electric shield being well known. Tom?

Meanwhile out on deck our intrepid sailors were struggling with the sails.
The wind was too far forward for the jib so that was roller reefed and the
staysail set; all of this during a major squall.

Soon the staysail was also useless and that was taken down and secured to
the deck. When all were back in the cockpit I raised my hatch and looked out
on the three worst looking drowned rats on the planet. I went back to the
salon and realized that it was time for Pappy. Now nearly three years ago
Jamie presented Alpheratz with a fine old bottle of bourbon, Pappy Van
Winkle and here on the final day of the voyage, the time was most
appropriate to finish it. So I reopened the hatch and handed out three
espresso cups and final contents of the bottle. None of the three declined
the offer. Pappy underwent an honorable demise.

I had the 8 to 10 PM watch tonight and during that time the front passed and
the sky cleared. I was soon chasing constellations when the thought hit me
that I have been doing that nightly for the last, nearly, three years;
sitting in the aft cockpit looking up. The next thought was that it will
probably be a good long time before I am doing this again. I found
Cassiopeia, followed the pointers to Alpheratz (the star) which was rising
on the eastern horizon…and I decided to leave it at that.

We should be in Portland at around 5 AM. Home is 39.4 miles away.

The lamb was fabulous. The lap top survived and …

All are well.

Jonathan always says that the best voyages begin with a couple of quiet days
of light winds and flat seas. Everyone gets a chance to get their sea legs,
get used to the routine and the motion. We left St George’s at 2:30 PM on
Friday and after getting clearance from the Harbor Control proceeded out
through Town Cut. A quarter of a mile out we headed into the wind, hoisted
the main and put in three reefs which seemed excessive for the conditions
but we were being conservative. It is always easier to un-reef than to reef.
We sailed about a mile to the east to avoid Kitchen Shoals and then headed
up to our course for Portland. It was clear quite early on that we were not
going to get a couple of days to “break into” the routine.

We were soon out of the lee of Bermuda and unhappily discovered that our
wind files and weather reports were somewhat off. Instead of 15 knots on the
beam we had 20-25 knots from forward. Within minutes the seas had piled up
into an ungodly confusion of 12 foot breaking pyramids. Of course we hadn’t
been anticipating this so hatches were open, or not secured for sea and we
began to take major soakings from the breaking waves and scooping bow. These
major deluges found every possible entrant into the cabin and we were
quickly seeing drips and rivulets in the most improbable locations. Next we
smelled something unusual and determined that we had been running the engine
higher than normal and was probably related to that. Once we shut the engine
down it disappeared. Half an hour later in the mighty mess, we smelled the
distinct odor of electrical fire and could see a small amount of smoke in
the sun rays. We checked the boat from stem to stern and it was clearly in
the galley area. I found the Nespresso machine sitting in a puddle of salt
water that leaked in somewhere and I unplugged it. The smell and smoke
quickly dissipated and the lingering odors seemed to come from that region.
Luckily the Nespresso machine escaped unharmed and we found a new, dryer,
location for it.

So there is the first hour of our voyage. Huge seas, everything soaked and
too much time spent sniffing noxious odors looking for problems. Believe me,
no one was talking about favorite sea recipes. However, the indomitable
Jonathan had prepared a meat loaf prior to departure and dutifully cooked
it. Now JL’s meatloaf is fabulous, though by right I should call it Justin’s
meatloaf because he found the recipe and we have been using it ever since.
Needless to say, there weren’t a lot of takers for dinner that night. But we
did have some great meatloaf sandwiches the next day.

These conditions continued through the night, for the next day and a half,
and it wasn’t until Sunday when things quieted down enough to begin to dry
some clothing and have a shower. I have described the problems of living on
a rocking and rolling ship before. It is constant exertion to accomplish the
simples of tasks. The only place where you can be unguarded is your bunk
where you get thrown around like laundry on “agitate” getting sheet burns on
your hips and elbows.

By Sunday, though, the wind backed to the south of west and was much more
favorable than our prognostications had foretold. The sea state calmed and
we were able to make good mileage with less physical abuse. By the time we
were approaching the Gulf Stream in the late afternoon life aboard was quiet
enough to have showers and lay out some clothing to dry on deck.

The Gulf Stream is often a tumultuous passage. Wind blowing counter to the
current can make a dangerous situation. Also, it is usual to find a band of
squalls hovering over the North Wall where hot water from the south meets
cold currents from the north. Our passage was anything but anxiety
provoking. If it were not for the exaggerated compass heading (versus course
over the ground), or the rapidly changing water temperatures in the warm and
cold eddies, we wouldn’t have known we were crossing it at all. It was dark
by the time we passed over the North Wall so even the drastic change from
blue water to green was absent.

Monday brought the wind back again and the deluges of water. It wasn’t as
severe as the initial afternoon …and we had gotten a lot smarter about
keeping our hatches battened down. For about 8 hours in the PM, we sailed
through beam winds of 28-32 knots and the resulting beam seas. Otto, the
auto pilot handled it well enough so we got through relatively unscathed.
Had the winds been from further ahead it would have been a truly memorable
nightmare.

Overnight we froze. Whether we’d been in the tropics for two years or not.
We all froze as the water temperature sank to the low 40′s (6-8 deg C) and
the air didn’t seem much higher. We “charged the batteries” all night just
to get some heat into the cabin. It was only mildly successful and half the
crew went to bed hugging small chemical heating pads.

But there is nothing like the aftermath of a spate of trying sailing and
today is a glorious aftermath. When the sun rose around 5 AM we were off
Pollack Rip, the channel between Nantucket and Cape Cod. The wind is abeam,
the sea is flat and a favorable current is keeping us above 7 knots. Soon
after I got up, Jamie and Peter spied a pod of whales off the port side. The
sun began to give off some May warmth and a few layers of clothing could be
removed. Muffin’s made a reappearance as did a school of dolphins off the
bow. A little later a red winged black bird landed on the rail and has been
travelling with us for a couple of hours. The dunes of Cape Cod are visible
in the distance. Another whale sounded and showed its massive black flukes.
Since the Gulf Stream, the smell of salt and sea pervades the senses. There
is no place on the globe that smells like New England (and Maritime) waters.
Intoxicating.

Today is the last day of an incredible voyage and it is a day like this that
makes it impossible not to believe that there will be another. Those of us
who like it out here, love it out here. Wet, cold pounding in a rough sea
may not be fun, but the bliss of a glorious sunny May day sailing home after
29,000 nautical miles, surrounded by whales and dolphins and visited by an
early red winged black bird is worth the trouble and a lot, lot more. There
will be more voyages.

And, by the way, tonight “Glorious May Day” will be completed by Peter’s
roast lamb. What else.

All are perfectly, perfectly well.

Blowin’ 30, 12 foot beam seas.

Though the gulf stream last night, effortless.

Planned ETA Wednesday morning, Maine Yacht Center.

I promise a leg-recap then.

Thanks to all of you who took the time to write..we can still read anyway!

All are well

Still too rough to type, though I doubt it is too rough for YOU to type!

Will cross Gulf Stream this aternoon.

All are far, far weller.

Too rough to type.

All are in.. varying degrees… well

We have been pinned at our dock in Bermuda for 5 days. The wind has blown
non-stop at 20-30 knots from the south for that long. The motion is like
being at sea and neither Jonthan nor I have lost our sea legs yet.
Unfortunately it also means that we have not gone more than a quarter mile
from the boat during that period.

Wind gribs and Commander’s agree that our passage starting tomorrow should
be in brisk but favorable winds with no evidence at this point of nasty lows
traversing across the Gulf Stream or the Gulf of Maine. Jamie showed up
yesterday and oddly enough a project or two, just as if by magic, happened
to need some attention on the boat. He likes to huff and puff grumbling
about the work but we all know that feral ponies couldn’t keep him away. In
2004 Jamie outfitted Thunderhead with tools. He had a free hand and no
budget. He bought A LOT of tools! Anyway, we transferred everything to
Alpheratz for this trip and they have served him well. The rest of us just
use the screw driver and the bigger screw driver but Jamie mines deep into
the forepeak (it is his West Virginia background) and always manages to find
just the right implement for one of his nautical surgeries. I have made it a
habit to complain of his very expensive and extensive selection of tools but
then he goes looking…comes up with the perfect weapon..and I get the look!

Brian and Peter show up tomorrow afternoon and will find the engine idling
and the lines ready for tossing when they get to the pier.

This old girl and two of her long term occupants are very, very anxious to
smell pine trees!

All are well.

We arrived at Town Cut, St. Georges at 6:21 last evening. The sun was still
up and Bermuda Harbour Radio directed us to the Customs float in the
harbour. This was great news because I had assumed that we would need to tie
up or anchor for the night and then proceed to Customs this morning and then
find a berth.

St. George is deserted. We are definitely a week or so ahead of the exodus
from the Caribbean and as we powered through the narrow entrance we could
see a vast emptiness. In the main anchorage where there are often 30 or more
yachts, there were 6. The pier where I feared we wouldn’t find a spot, was
empty.

We landed safely at Ordnance Island which is the Customs and Immigration
area and headed into the office to do our paper work. Bermuda has a new
pre-arrival form which must be filled out and emailed prior to landing at
the island. Australia and New Zealand have the same requirement. I had only
discovered this by accident shortly before our departure from Tortola, duly
entered and sent all the info and received back an acknowledgement of its
receipt. When we got to the office we found the customs official with one of
our forms all filled out and waiting for us. Customs and Immigration
procedures have been one of my major rants for the last three years. It was
a pleasure to see how organized and streamlined Bermuda has made the
process.

After filling out more of the usual forms, we were cleared into the Country
and our passports stamped. In the dying sunlight, we motored to our usual
pier and tied up to great relief. It was a great relief mostly because we
were done with the formalities, we were at our permanent location here and
free to go ashore for libations and dinner. And now, this morning, we can
sit around and drink coffee, surf the ‘net, and begin to take care of some
of our chores.

It is cold here. The water is now below 65 deg (18C). The air temp last
night was in the low 60′s and blowing. After getting the boat well tied and
fendered against the wind and concrete pier, we found long trousers and
sweaters deep in the lockers and headed ashore to find dinner. Not only is
the harbour empty but the town as well. Most restaurants were closed and it
being 9PM the shops were shut down. There wasn’t a car or a taxi or a bus to
be seen. Luckily, we did find an open restaurant not far from the pier and
arrived in time for a meal.

Today’s chores are laundry and getting the jib attended to. We got an email
yesterday from our faithful reader Ollie Kippen who had alerted a friend in
Bermuda of our arrival. We swapped emails yesterday with Alexa Cooper who
directed us to a sailmaker in St George’s…and I can email my nephew
Alexandre who will remind me where to find the laundry!

All are well.

This boat makes about a hundred thousand sounds; squeaks, bangs, screeches,
thumps, whirrs, whistles and groans..And I know all of them! So when this
morning I heard the hundred thousandth-and-one I took notice. That is to say
that I took notice of the sound but I had no stomach to go looking for
trouble. Matt was next on deck and hollered down that the head of the jib
had let go and sure enough, it hung in folds on the fore stay. Jonathan
dragged himself out of bed and the two of them hauled down the offending
item while I headed the boat into the wind.

The jib is on a roller furling mechanism which has a large swivel at the top
of the stay. This swivel is attached to both the head of the jib and to the
halyard. Unfortunately, only the jib came down the swivel did not. We
loosened the halyard but the few ounces that the swivel weighs won’t be
enough to counteract the weight of the halyard itself.

The staysail was soon set and with the engine on we were making good speed.
An hour later the wind clocked to the east allowing us to set our course
directly for Bermuda instead of.. say, Cape Hatteras. And also about the
same time the nasty current which has plagued us since Tortola..no, no
no…let’s get this straight…plagued us since Cape Town, So. Africa,
abated somewhat.

If necessary we could restitch the head of the jib and retrieve the swivel
from on high but we only have a day or so to go, we are doing fine..and I
hate send anyone aloft in a rolling sea. So we will find a sailmaker in
Bermuda and get sorted there for the onward leg.

Roast pork and apple sauce for dinner. The apple sauce was from New Zealand
and expired last December..it was especially good.

All are well.

When I came on deck last night for my watch at 08:00 PM, it was just
spitting rain. The radar showed images of weather peppered all over the
screen for 36 miles out. This was entirely expected because Commander’s had
told us that we would be crossing a front and to expect squalls before the
leading edge. I suggested to Jonthan that we take in the cushions and he
kind of reluctantly complied. When he was done he returned to the cockpit
and announced that there would be no rain from then until he returned at 5
AM for his next watch. Well that was the lamest prediction I’d heard in a
long time so I asked him if he wanted to wager on it. He agreed to $20.00
and I felt so bad about taking his money so effortlessly, that I suggested
that he could pay in Canadian dollars thereby saving himself 5-10% on this
very rash gamble.

During the next three hours we had two close and very large rain storms on
the radar. In fact, the images were directly over head. But no rain fell.
Matt came on watch at 11 PM and I was getting a little nervous. I offered
him $10 if he would tell JL that it had rained. Hey, it was 50% of the
wager. Unfortunately, Matt is about as likely to lie as the Pope…no wait a
minute, bad analogy. Matt cannot tell a lie. He’ll chop down your cherry
tree in a heartbeat..but he will always admit it.

I went to bed and Jonathan woke me up for my next watch at 4:50. He did seem
a little cheery for 5AM! The radar was clear and there was no sign of an
overnight downpour. I’m out $20..American! Doesn’t seem fair, doesn’t seem
right, Should’a'na happened.

At One PM we crossed under the front. The wind veered from 270 degrees to 85
degrees in about 30 seconds. Jonathan and Matt had seen the front coming,
removed the spinnaker pole and got two reefs in the mainsail. So we are now
hard on the weather steering 25 degrees off to port with full jib and double
reefed main. The wind is in the low teens and expected to lessen over the
next 24 hours, though the angle isn’t supposed to change. On Thursday we
will be in another cold front expecting stronger winds clocking into the SW
as we approach Bermuda. At this point it looks like we will be making
landfall around midnight, which, though not my favorite pastime will be fine
in Bermuda where the charts are excellent and the navigational aids
reliable. Most likely we will enter Town Cut, St. George and anchor in a
large mooring field near the customs dock. The next days to follow are
expected to bring even more wind so we have lots of incentive to
keep the old girl moving.

In the last 24 hours the air temp has gone from the low 80′s to the high
60′s. The water temp has gone from 78 deg to 70 deg. The rude awakening has
begun.

All are well.

We just crossed the Tropic of Cancer.

We are making decent time towards Bermuda but have some weather ahead which
will be a challenge. Nothing dangerous just the usual front with the
associated BPH’s. Some wet clothes, soggy bedding, the usual joys of
offshore sailing. Then we will have a day of little wind from many
directions as a low crosses our path. Finally, the wind should then come out
of the west and scoot us on to St George’s, BDA.

Sighted so far are a leaping Eagle Ray, Dolphins, Portuguese Man of War,
tropic birds, a shear water, and our ever constant companions..flying fish.

All are well.