Hello Everybody and welcome aboard Avalanche!

This is our 9th annual voyage aboard Avalanche from Jamestown to Antigua, our 18th ocean voyage of over 1,000 nautical miles! and we look forward to sharing our experiences with you. This year we have a crew of five: Jake, Marnie and Ben Jacobsen and Peter Vaiciulis, all of whom have made the trip together many times: Jake and I have made them all, and Peter and Ben have each made about half of them. Our fifth on this trip is Dolph Gabeler, a friend we’ve gotten to know through his work at North Sails tirelessly repairing our various sails. Ben’s schedule only allows him to sail as far as Bermuda, so from Bermuda to Antigua we will be four. The trip is about 1600 nautical miles: 635 from Newport to Bermuda and 900-1000 from Bermuda to Antigua. We should get to Bermuda in 3 and a half days, then another 5 to 6 will see us in Antigua. Our fastest trip was 9 days, but in the fall we usually have to hold in Bermuda a day or two for weather. (Hardly the briar patch.)

It had long been our goal to leave on Saturday, the 18th, and as Jake talked with Herb, or weather prognosticator, that seemed a viable plan: we would wait for the front that had swept up the eastern seaboard to pass and the seas to lie down, then head out–about dawn on Saturday morning. On Friday at 4 pm when Jake talked to Herb the plan changed to an immediate departure, if not sooner. What had been a sedate, organized and satisfying final prep became a Chinese fire drill! Those final chores (shopping for fresh produce, dairy and baked goods; packing the final bag of personal gear; transferring prepared meals from home freezer to boat freezer; closing up the condo: prying one crew member away from work), which we had planned to leisurely complete through the evening were raced through in what we thought was record time: in less than 5 hours we accomplished what was planned for 8-10 hours. We untied the dock lines just before 9 pm and headed out. The first order of business was to immediately set our watches forward to Bermuda and Antigua time, which had the added benefit of extending our evening daylight. Then we went to work stowing all the groceries and frozen meals, making up bunks, unpacking clothing, and motoring the boat out of the bay. Within an hour things were under control, with all the lose stuff stowed, the boat on course for the Gulf Stream and Bermuda and the off watch crew bedded down for some rest. The ride out of the mouth of the bay and just off the coast was quite rolly and bumpy in the aftermath of the front, but that became less problematic with time.

We had a clear dark sky, the crescent moon didn’t rise until almost dawn, and the temperature was in the low 50’s, with the light breeze from astern. We were really quite comfortable in our parkas, hats and gloves watching the entertainment. Mother Nature began her show during the night. For openers, Peter and Dolph had a wondrous meteor shower; Peter quit counting at 38. Then, just before dawn, a pod of 15-20 dolphins came to play around the boat. The phosphorescence in the water as they swooped in close to the boat, then under it, then leaped and frolicked was like fairy dust or stars. It was wonderful to see. Just after dawn we were visited by another pod of 15-25 dolphin that frolicked and played for a good half hour entertaining us. They jumped in the air, and then ducked under the boat. They sped away and came flying and leaping back. They were bright and shiny and looked brand new. While the dolphins were playing, I spotted a humpback whale blowing several hundred yards off the port side. Then he breached and made a huge splash landing back in the water. As he leisurely swam away from us he spouted several more times, breached at least twice more and then waved his huge fin at us. What a treat! Just as we were exclaiming about how lucky we were to see all this wildlife, yet another pod of dolphin came in from the starboard side–50-75 of them, coming in waves of 15-20 at a time, leaping, smiling, frolicking. And all before 10 am! Additionally, during that time we came within a half mile of a 128′ tug, saw lights just over the horizon (perhaps a cruise ship), tracked a boat about 5 miles away, identified 2 fishing boats, and saw 3 high flyers.
Just another routine day at sea!

When Jake talked to Herb at 4 pm, we had only covered 143 miles (which we thought was excellent, because it gives us over 200 miles for 24 hours), but Herb was disappointed. He wanted us to have another 60 miles under our belt. If he could have seen our Chinese fire drill, he would have been impressed, not disappointed. The reason Herb hoped we had gotten further is that there is a potential storm brewing off the southern U.S. coast, which we don’t want to tangle with. So we have the throttle down, we’re motoring straight to Bermuda as fast as we can. Depending on when the storm begins moving and the direction it takes we might beat it to Bermuda, or we might spend our last 8 hours beating in 25 knots. We’re voting for the former scenario. We should get there Tuesday morning, and during the daylight for a change.

All the best from the crew of Avalanche, hoping your Saturday was as exciting as ours.
38.44 N Latitude 69.54 W Longitude

November 19, 2006 Day 2

Hello Everybody!

Last night we were enjoying a relatively benign Gulf Stream crossing: the water was 78 degrees, so we were comfortable on deck in 65-degree air temp. It was overcast and we were rolling, but that didn’t put a damper on our story telling. Then, about 3 am, the bilge pump light came on, and came on again and stayed on too long. I went below to check and found that it had pumped 261 seconds, so I pulled up the floorboards to find the problem. It was pretty easy to identify as fresh water since a hose from the water pump was spraying water everywhere. (That’s the good news, if it’s fresh water it was already on board and is just moving to a new location. It won’t sink us.) When I picked up the floorboard the engine noise magnified enough to rouse Jake from his bunk. He came on the scene as I was turning off the water pump. He managed to put his hand directly on the leak in his first attempt to locate it, and as he was calling for tools, Peter appeared to help. (It really is loud when the engine is running and the floorboards are up!) Dolph kept watch on deck and kept us heading for Bermuda while Jake and Peter got the leak repaired and I stood by to fetch tools. Ben heard the commotion, rightly figured that if we didn’t call him, we didn’t need him and rolled over to go back to sleep. With the leaky fresh water situation under control, Dolph and Peter went to bed; Jake came on watch with me. And we had more water. Just a light drizzle, but we had to layer up with foul weather gear. When I was off watch and sleeping I heard commotion and noise, as Peter, Dolph and Jake had to cope with the fresh water system pressure tank, a casualty of the night’s leak. I followed Ben’s example from the night before and rolled over to go back to sleep!

Our day was bright, sunny, and warm. We were on deck in shorts and t-shirts, Peter and Jake were putting the finishing touches on the pressure tank when Jake’s fishing line went wild. Fish on! Ben grabbed it and started reeling it in, calling for the fighting belt. We all gathered to watch and help. As Ben cranked and cranked and the fish came closer we were flabbergasted to see a White Marlin! Ben got it to the boat, Jake gaffed it, and Pete arrived to help drag it onto the swimming platform. Ben had caught a 7-foot, 35-40 pound white Marlin on Jake’s side of the boat. Peter bled it and filleted it and Jake and Ben cooked it up for lunch. What a treat that was! We are planning to have more for dinner tomorrow night. All the guys took baths and showers on the swimming platform at 36.58N latitude. That beats last year’s record at 36.18 N latitude for getting in the water the furthest north.

We have not had a chance to sail yet. We are motor sailing with the wind directly behind us and too light to make sailing worthwhile, especially with a chance of a storm approaching. So we motor on. We have just completed our engineering for the day, which included making water, running the freezer, and normally charging the batteries, but with the engine running, charging is not necessary.

We hope all is well with everyone.

Our current position is 290 miles Northwest of Bermuda. If all goes well we will be there before noon on Tuesday.

All the best from the crew of Avalanche.

November 20, 2006 Day 3

Hello Everybody,

It appears this is my year to get wet! When Peter awakened me last night and was heading off to bed, he mentioned a dark cloud following us and the possibility of rain later. In no more than a minute, when I climbed the ladder to the deck to join Dolph, he was asking if I had brought my foul weather gear because it was raining and he needed to get his. After he and I were both suited up we sat in the rain for an hour or so telling stories. By the time Jake came on deck the rain was gone and the stars were out (but my socks and shoes were really soggy).

I awoke this morning to blue sky and sunshine, and the guys all on deck in shorts and t-shirts with the fishing lines over the side. They have 2 rods and 3 hand lines on bungees. The lines on the port side are “Jake’s”; those to starboard are “Peter’s”. Jake has a couple of new lures from the boat show, but nothing unique. Peter’s rigs look like he’s gone pro. He has multicolored line, 3 hooks on one line, and what looks like a small tuna for a lure. He appears to be serious about winning the contest this year! For those of you who are new to our journal this year, the fishing contest is an annual event. Peter and Jake choose sides of the boat and put their individual gear there. After that it’s really a team effort because everyone pitches in to catch the fish, since Peter and Jake are not always on deck when a fish strikes. Any fish caught on Jake’s side (port this year) scores for Jake, any fish caught on Peter’s side (starboard) scores for Peter, and fish are scored if they get away.

The first event of the day was a fish on Peter’s line. Dolph reeled in a brilliantly colored small Mahi Mahi. Now the fact that Jake lost the gaff yesterday when we were boating the Marlin made it a bit more challenging for Peter to grab the fish on the swim platform, but he was up to the task. Peter quickly filleted the fish and Jake began prepping it for fish sandwiches. It wasn’t my turn to cook, so I stood watch on deck, while Peter, Dolph and Ben went down for naps. What I watched was a huge ugly black cloud that stretched from horizon to horizon behind us. I grabbed my foul weather gear, put the hatch board in to keep the rain out of the boat, and had my second fresh water shower in 24 hours as the black cloud caught us. Gradually we worked our way out from under the cloud and we had sunshine again when the entire group reconvened in the cockpit for excellent fresh Mahi Mahi sandwiches. Just as we were biting into our (rather messy) sandwiches, a fish hit Jake’s line. Ben leapt up and began reeling, while Dolph strapped the fighting belt around Ben’s waist. Then Dolph began reeling in one of Peter’s lines to get it out of the way, only to discover there was a second Mahi Mahi on it. Two fish on, no gaff, 3 hand lines in the water–oh boy! Ben got his fish in to Peter on the swim platform and strapped the fighting belt around Dolph’s waist. Then it got really interesting. Peter’s 3 lines were intertwined. Ben and Dolph had to pull the multicolored line (looks very colorful snarled on the cockpit cushions) in by hand, only to discover that the 2nd Mahi was long gone. Jake thought Peter’s line looked like a tangled fishing net that had washed ashore. At this point the score is fish 1, Peter 1, Jake 2. (And, personally, I think Ben should have points for catching our first Marlin.)

After the double Mahi Mahi adventure the weather settled down a bit. We finally have a decent wind direction and velocity to put up sails! Until this point we’ve just been a glorified motorboat. Now we’re barreling along straight toward Bermuda making over 9 knots over the bottom. It looks as if we should get to the outer buoys at Bermuda about sunrise tomorrow. We’ve actually made reasonably good time this trip. We made 143 miles from the time we left Jamestown until 4 pm Saturday, then 186 miles until 4 pm Sunday despite stopping to catch the Marlin, and 186 miles today including catching 2 and releasing 1 Mahi Mahi. Only 125 miles to go to the sea buoy.

Tonight Dolph is marinating Marlin for dinner; we’ve had fish sandwiches twice for lunch, meatloaf sandwiches for lunch; lasagna and scallops fettuccini for dinner: and fresh chocolate chip cookies thanks to Nikki. We’re eating very well.

All the best from the crew of Avalanche looking forward to landfall in Bermuda.
34.01 W Latitude 65.58 N Longitude

November 21, 2006 Day 4

Hello Everybody,

We’re here! We arrived in Bermuda about 8 this morning! It never fails to amaze me that we can untie the dock lines in Jamestown, sail away from land, and 3 days later, find and sail into Bermuda. Despite multiple trips the sheer magnitude of the feat and the excitement of the approach never fail to amaze me. The trip took 2 hours less than 3 and a half days. I hope I’ll have a chance to check our previous trips so I can tell you where that stands in the record books.

When we arrived Bermuda Radio directed us to the cruise ship dock so we could walk over to Customs to check in. After that we circled near the fuel dock for 2 hours waiting for two other sailboats to fuel before we could get a turn. The irony of the situation was priceless. The only wind we had from a direction and of a strength we could have sailed in since we left Jamestown came up while we were at the dock replacing the fuel we used because we couldn’t sail. That very wind made getting off the dock an adventure: we launched the dinghy and Dolph was our tug, pulling the bow off the wall; while Peter and Ben guided and pushed the aft quarter and kept our fenders between the cement wall and the hull. Jake drove and I held my breath! Having made it off the fuel dock, we had the anchor down, the deck cleared up and leftover lasagna in the oven for lunch by 12:30, when the rain began!

We had a quiet afternoon in the rain: Jake and Ben went to town for an Internet card and a bottle of rum and came back with ice cream! Peter sharpened knives and Dolph and I had naps. We all showered and freshened up.

When Jake talked to Herb, Herb reported that the storm I mentioned earlier is still stationary off Florida. He suggests that we’ll be stuck here in the briar patch until the end of the week. So it looks as if we’ll have an opportunity to explore, do some shopping, read, and relax. In addition, Jake and Peter will undoubtedly check out their fresh water leak repair, and Dolph has brought his canvas repair kit and has already referred to some maintenance he’d like to do. Ben heads back to Rhode Island tomorrow. (Amazing, he’ll travel the distance it took us 3 days 10 hours to do in only 2 hours and 45 minutes!)

I’ll write again when we know what our weather window looks like and daily once we’re underway.

Happy Thanksgiving from the crew of Avalanche. (Don’t worry about us, our turkey day menu includes: turkey, gravy, stuffing, mashed potatoes, squash, cranberry relish, pumpkin bread, and apple crisp!)
32.22 N latitude, 64.41 W longitude

November 22, 2006 Day 5

Hello Everybody!

We’re back at sea. Last night we had 4″ of rain in the dinghy, but this morning it was merely drizzly and overcast. The wind and downpours had disappeared. We looked at the various forecasts available to us here and figured we should leave while we could. There isn’t any wind to speak of, and the seas are still very rolly, but we’ll start getting south before the next weather maker arrives. We hope Herb will approve. (A little later) Herb would have liked us to stay put until after lunch tomorrow, but since we’re already out here advised us to head south and west of south in any thunderstorms. He says there will be plenty of weather for “easting” toward Antigua later.

We had a nice time in Bermuda. We’re always on a pretty short leash because we have to be on board to talk to Herb at 3:40, and ready to depart immediately thereafter if conditions allow. We had 3 nights of good sleep: had a delicious Thanksgiving dinner with all the trimmings; and a second meal of leftovers–we even had apple crisp and ice cream! We made our annual trek up to Bermuda Radio with a case of Heineken, a tradition since our first trip south when we were in terrible weather and on a communication schedule every 4 hours with them. Once again we had a tour of their incredible facility and state of the art communications system; and we enjoyed their view over the island and water around it. Yesterday we took the ferry to Hamilton via Dockyard. It was a wonderful view of the exterior of the island inside the reef, of Dockyard, of the area we raced Etchells in 10 years ago, and the new and changing waterfront in Hamilton. We sampled Bermuda fish chowder, bought fishing gear and quick took a taxi back to St. Georges so we wouldn’t miss Herb!

We left St. Georges about 2:45 this afternoon, and by 3:30 Peter had caught a tunny tuna. So we’re having sashimi tonight before our chicken chili dinner. The score now stands at Jake 2, Peter 2, fish 1.

Just as Herb came on the radio we learned we had shot ourselves in the foot! Peter and Jake had repaired that fresh water hose leak on the way to Bermuda, and then tweaked it while we were at anchor. Unfortunately they tweaked the hose a little too close to an alternator belt, and the hose developed a leak. It was pretty easy to find, and we had a perfect piece of hose to replace it. Just an hour on their bellies over the bilge in the rolly seas and we were back in business.

Now we’re about to have dinner. Then Jake and I will be up from 6 to midnight, Dolph and Peter from midnight to 6 am, then Jake and I have 6 to noon and Dolph and Peter get the afternoon. Pretty simple schedule.

A note to our readers. We wanted to send our email to everyone instead of having Ben forward it, but we have learned that just isn’t possible. It turns out that there are so many spam busters and virus protectors that easily a third of your addresses were rejected. Worse: once rejected, the ISP notified us again every time we went on line to send or receive. We just can’t cope with all the transmissions. Therefore, we will send directly to Ben, Jake’s Mom and mine, Dolph’s and Peter’s wives (one each). Ben will forward to the rest of the list as he has done in the past.

All the best from the crew of Avalanche

32.12 N latitude 64.35 W longitude

November 23, 2006 Day 6

Hello Everybody!

Last night after I had written we had a strange event while we had dinner. A flying fish hit Dolph in the chest, and then slid across the cushions behind Jake, who picked it up and threw it overboard. Less than an hour later another flying fish landed on the hatch right beside Jake, and this morning we found a third dead on deck near the hatch. The fish are jumping right on board! Dolph did report a strike on Jake’s line this afternoon, but when he reeled it in there was nothing on the lure. The score remains Jake 2, Peter 2, fish 1.

The subject most on our minds has been the weather. Particularly for me, since I seem to attract the rain, and I’m getting tired of suiting up in foul weather gear every watch! It’s hot, heavy, and my knees just don’t bend very well when they’re so encumbered. Thanks to Herb we missed the real rain and thunderstorms last night. We could see some lightning way off to the east, but it didn’t bother us. We just had some sprinkles and wet cockpit cushions. Sunrise this morning was particularly colorful. To the west we had a dozen shades of blue, from pale gray blue to bright blue sky blue to deep dark blue, plus several shades in between and silver clouds for contrast. To the east were shades of white and gray. A paint manufacturer could have had a wonderful palette as a sales tool with that sky! Even color blind Jake could see it! We had some sun during the day and now we have a sky that contains more and more stars along with a crescent moon. We have altered course toward Antigua now that the front is angling away from us toward the southeast and we can see the clouds associated with it in the distance. It’s moving at 10 knots, while we’re making 8 knots, so it should stay ahead of us!

For those of you who are new readers, I should introduce Herb Hilgenberg, who is a very important member of our crew. He is a meteorologist, who puts together forecasts for voyaging sailors like us. He began his hobby when he lived in Bermuda and has continued since retirement from his home in Toronto. Jake and Ben and I visited Herb and his wife Brigitte several years ago and were most impressed by Herb’s commitment to the safety and well being of us sailors at sea. He spends hours every day going over all the forecasts and models available to him, and then formulates his own forecast. Every day he comes on the single sideband radio at 2:50 EST and calls the roll of boats that have checked in. He then proceeds to talk to each boat, receiving weather conditions at each boat’s location, then giving a detailed 3-day forecast for each boat based on his forecasts and tied to that boat’s destination and anticipated speed. It is a formidable job, especially when there are storms and people out in them. You can see from our emails that our days revolve around Herb. We couldn’t make these trips without him.

We hope you are all enjoying a happy holiday weekend. All the best from the crew of Avalanche.
28.30 N latitude 64.27 W longitude

November 24, 2006 Day 7

Hello Everybody!

I guess we should call this a fishing trip! I wrote yesterday about the 3 flying fish. Just when we were all up at midnight to change watches I noticed a bit of spray and shined my flashlight around. Yep! Another flying fish on the cockpit floor just forward of the console. And this morning I found scales on the davits near the back porch light–probably another casualty. The problem is that flying fish are really slippery and hard to pick up to throw back, plus they leave scales everywhere, and they smell really fishy!

About the same time we had a close encounter with another yacht. We had been roughly paralleling and very slowly converging with another boat all night and finally just before midnight, when he was between 2 and 3 miles away, decided to alter course to be certain we would avoid him. Probably he was heading for the Virgin Islands, which are further west than our course. It always astonishes me when we see another boat like ourselves. The ocean is so vast, but the routes from port to port are heavily used, so I suppose I really shouldn’t be surprised.

Today has been a fisherman’s dream! We’ve had 5 fish on! About 7:30 this morning Jake’s line started running out. I pulled back the throttle while he grabbed the rod. He reeled a nice Mahi Mahi in as I readied the gaff and harness. Then he handed me the rod to bring the fish to the boat so he could gaff it. Mission accomplished, fresh Mahi sandwiches for lunch. Shortly after we had let the lines back out there was another strike on Jake’s line. He grabbed the rod and began reeling, but the fish made a run for the boat faster than Jake could reel. The fish outsmarted Jake and shook the hook. At lunch we all discussed the fishing, mentioning that fish generally hit early in the morning or just when Herb is on the air. And that’s what happened. I was napping; Herb was beginning his broadcast when the boat stopped. Once on deck I found Dolph reeling in a big fish on Jake’s line. Peter had been showering on the swim platform, so he was already harnessed, but had to quickly put his clothes on before he gaffed our second white marlin! This one was probably 5′ to Ben’s 7′ fish. This is the first year we have ever caught billfish, and now we’ve got two! (For the record, the guys at the fishing tackle store in Bermuda told us these are probably long billed spearfish, not white marlin–there are some distinguishing stripes.) After the lines were put back out, the guys encouraged me to shower on the swim platform. (They all already had showered and were nicely cooled off.) I was tempted to sit in the water and enjoy it before showering, but decided to be quick instead because I figured the odds were good that there would be more fish at that time of day, and I didn’t want to be in the way when the gaffing and filleting began. I had barely climbed back on deck and taken off the harness when Jake had a strike on his line immediately followed by a strike on Peter’s line. They were both Mahi Mahi’s. Jake boated his, but Dolph lost the one on Peter’s line. That makes the score Jake 5, Peter 2, fish 3.

We had a gorgeous hot day today: bright hot sunshine, 86 degrees in the shade, 10-12 knots of breeze from dead behind us, so we are still motoring. In an effort to fight the heat, we put up the small awning to give us some shade in the cockpit and help cool the boat somewhat, and everyone sat on the swim platform and showered to cool off. We all had naps, did some reading, made a few phone calls while the Globalstar phone had reception. (I don’t know why the hero in Clive Cussler’s novels always gets through on his Globalstar, while our reception is always spotty.)

We need to find some wind. It appears that it will arrive Tuesday about the time we run out of fuel. We have fuel to make about 800 miles, but we need to sail for 200 miles–about one day. Herb suggested that we slow down and go fishing and let the wind catch up to us. While we are being somewhat conservative with the fuel, we aren’t worried yet, but we will consider Herb’s advice tomorrow if the wind does not fill in. It looks like the predicted winds will allow us to roll out the sails for the last couple days into Antigua. And, since we go too fast when sailing to catch fish, we’ll just catch fish now, sail later.

All the best from the fishing fools on Avalanche.

November 25, 2007 Day 8

Hello Everybody!

The fishing continues. Score today Jake 5, Peter 3, fish 3. Dolph and Peter caught a Mahi Mahi on Peter’s line.

Today’s weather wasn’t bright and sunny, but it was warm. We began to catch up to the front and its heavy dark clouds. Fortunately, the worst those clouds have provided during the day were a few sprinkles (and not on my watch!). Herb warned us that we might have squalls and unsettled conditions overnight; until just now it’s been a beautiful night with a moon and stars here and there, but now the radar shows rain 16 miles dead ahead. Apparently tomorrow should be another beautiful sunny day on the water.

Today the wind has finally moved far enough forward for us to sail. We’ve had 12-20 knots of wind and as it crept forward we rolled out more and more sail and throttled the engine back to conserve fuel. By 5 am Peter and Dolph had throttled back to 1600 rpms and rolled out the yankee. By 9 am Jake and I had exchanged the yankee for the whomper and rolled out the mainsail and had throttled back to 1500 rpms. At lunchtime the engine was at 1400 rpms, and by 1 pm it was off. Unfortunately that was just as we were closing in on the black clouds of the front, so we changed down from the whomper to the yankee. But the good news is that we are finally sailing!

We’re looking forward to a fine sunny day tomorrow, with a bath on the swim platform where the water is 83 degrees!

All the best from the crew of Avalanche.

22.39 N latitude 62.49 W longitude

November 26, 2006 Day 9

Hello Everybody!

I was weary and uninspired last night when I wrote, and just didn’t feel creative enough to try to describe what it’s like out here. I’ll give it a shot now. Keep in mind that we have been motoring almost the entire distance from Jamestown until yesterday when we were gradually able to add sail and finally turn off the engine.

At that point we were also catching the front, which had an erratic forward movement ahead of us: staying ahead, then slowing so we caught it, moving on again. As a result, yesterday, all night and this morning we’ve had some sort of clouds from horizon to horizon. Sometimes they look dark and dense, other areas are thin and let stars through, still other sections hold rain, there is even a bit of blue sky.

For the last 16-18 hours we’ve had terrific winds: at first 15-20, increasing overnight and now to 20-30, all aft of the beam, with accompanying 5-8 foot waves. The result of those conditions is a terrific ride! We are flying down waves at speeds over the ground of 8 and 9 knots. Avalanche was built for this kind of sailing; her hull shape keeps her bow from burying, so we fly along over the waves without taking water on deck. The sense of speed on deck is exhilarating. During the day we see dark blue water with frothy white caps 360 degrees to the edge of the horizon, a great empty seascape. Close to the boat the waves break and we can see the turquoise color as we slice through them. Nighttime is a different story. Because it’s dark we don’t see anything in the distance, we only see the waves near the boat as we slice through them and they race past. When the moon is visible we have a long clear patch of moonlight, which allows us a very narrow window to view what is out there. As a result of a diminished sense of sight and lack of reference points, our speed during the dark hours seems magnified. The sound of the rushing waves is enhanced. (Jake compares it to driving in a tunnel, when you lose the sense of your environment. Think about driving along with the tunnel lights and your headlights, then imagine turning off all the lights! ) The ride below is quite the opposite of the exhilarating ride in the cockpit. It is quiet (thankfully so without the engine running) and calm. The boat heels at about 15 degrees, so when we’re sitting or standing or walking we’re always holding on or braced. Additionally, when the boat careens into or off of a wave the boat will lurch. In our bunks the ride is delightful. We can’t even tell there is any wind at all. A good example is Peter and Dolph, who came up late morning dressed in swim trunks with their towels looking for a bath thinking the wind had died. Actually it was blowing 20-25, we were flying, and Jake and I were wearing our harnesses because of the squally aspect of the wind!

Because we have been sailing so fast, there has been no fishing today. However, tomorrow we will be coming up the wall along Barbuda during the daylight and Peter and Jake have been plotting their tactics. (Right now they are in the cockpit putting new line on the reels.) The water will go from over 3000 feet deep to less than 50 feet. It’s along that wall that fish feed, and Jake and Peter want to catch some of them–particularly tuna! In the past we have frequently gone through that area in the dark, so we couldn’t fish, but generally we have caught a Wahoo or two as we go past Barbuda and into Antigua.

Herb tells us our weather will be more of the same overnight, but we might have sun tomorrow. The computer is predicting we’ll get into Antigua tomorrow after dark. The actual time will really depend on how fast we go, which depends on 2 factors: how much wind we have and how many times we stop for fish.

All the best from the crew of Avalanche.

20.08 N latitude 62.07 W longitude

November 27, 2006 Day 10

Hello Everybody!

We made it! This is a quick note to tell you all that we have arrived in Falmouth Harbour, Antigua. We had the anchor down at 7:30 pm. We’re all showering and preparing dinner and looking forward to a whole night’s sleep. Tomorrow will be a very busy day because everything on the boat inside and out has to be washed down and rinsed with fresh water to get the salt out. Dolph flies out on Friday, Peter on Saturday, so I probably won’t write the final installment until Saturday or Sunday, but I will write it. We did have some adventures with the weather and constant squalls, plus a few airlocks at inopportune times. And the final fishing contest score is Peter 3, Jake 5, fish 3. Details to follow (eventually).

All the best from the crew of Avalanche, successfully at anchor!

17.00 N latitude 61.46 W longitude

November 29, 2006 The last day

Hello Everybody!

I did warn you that it would take me a few days to get back to the computer to relate the adventures of our final day at sea, but even I didn’t think it would take more than a week! We have been very busy since we arrived in Antigua. Peter and Dolph were an incredible help getting the boat and all the gear cleaned up and put away. Having two extra sets of hands cut the time by much more than half. Our last day at sea was full of adventures, and the first one began just before midnight. Jake and I had been on watch for 6 hours, sailing through and around squalls the entire time. It was weather we had been seeing all day: small areas of dark clouds with very localized rain, and no apparent changes in the wind. Each time we watched a squall miss us either visually or on the radar we gave a sigh of relief because we hadn’t gotten wet. The wind velocity fluctuated between 22 and 28 knots from our quarter, so we were sailing beautifully with Yankee, staysail and a reduced main. I was having trouble staying awake, so I went below to the computer to check the navigation: course, arrival time, water depths–anything to keep me awake. I had put the kettle on for Peter and Dolph’s coffee, and Peter had roused early. It was time to wake Dolph. Pete and I were chatting at the nav table when all hell broke loose! Jake was alone on deck, tethered to the backstay, watching with relief as yet another squall passed by without drenching him, when about 50 yards to windward he saw furious white water as a huge wind gust (he guesses 40-60 knots) hit first the water and then the boat. Jake grabbed the auto pilot control and put it on standby. With that the boat broached and rounded up toward the wind and the gust was gone. Jake easily hand steered the boat back on course. Peter went flying up on deck to see what he could do. Dolph had to extricate himself from his lee cloth and get out of his bunk (fortunately he hadn’t been thrown out). I turned off the stove and walked through the boat looking for anything damaged or out of place. Everything was fine below. Jake reported that 2-3 feet of the boom had been dragging in the water, but it was securely prevented, so it didn’t do any damage. (Only the next morning in the daylight did we discover that we’d lost a bath towel from the leeward rail and the leeward water jug tied to our life raft.) Excitement over, Peter and Dolph took up the watch and Jake and I went to bed.

At 6 am the guys reported that they had had an uneventful night, still seeing and missing rainsqualls (Peter and Dolph never did have any rain on their watches). We were sailing in the same conditions as overnight and the preceding day: 22-28 knots, 6-8 foot seas, but the wind direction was creeping forward. Now we had the wind off our beam, even occasionally forward of the beam as we neared Barbuda and the fishing grounds. Unfortunately, and to the great disappointment of all, the fishing contest was canceled. All that preparation and strategy for naught! Given the wind direction and velocity and sea conditions, together with our boat speed, there was no way we could catch a fish, much less reel it in and land it. We were just going too fast. As the day progressed we began to feel additional effects of our broach. The first demonstrated symptom was from the freezer: it had such a severe airlock that Jake gave up trying to bleed it, figuring we’d run it later at anchor in Antigua. The next event was a toilet that wouldn’t flush and instead filled up with contents from the holding tank. The toilet couldn’t flush because we had run the port water tank dry. We re-primed the water pump and cleaned up that mess. I took a nap, the guys all bathed and showered and when I awoke they informed me that the 125 gallons of water in the starboard tank wouldn’t give us enough pressure to prime the water pump again–no bathing for me. When we turned the SE corner of Antigua for the final 10-mile run into Falmouth Harbour, we rolled up sails and started the engine. Because we had had an overheating problem with the engine last May heading into Bermuda, Jake was very cautious this year when restarting it–and it was a darned good thing, too! We had exhaust water, but not enough. The alarm sounded and we shut down the engine. Jake and Peter checked the strainer, removed and checked the impellor. There was nothing impeding the cooling water flow, but the flow was negligible. Another airlock?! It’s the only thing we can think. When Jake and Peter removed the impeller the second time and opened the sea strainer they were finally able to get a significant water flow. And we were fine. Engine ran, water flowed. We all joined Dolph on deck, where he had been peacefully steering downwind under staysail alone, to watch the lights of Antigua as we came into Falmouth Harbour. We found the navigation buoys with no problem under the lights of a 5-masted square-rigged cruise ship and dropped anchor at Pigeon Beach.

The summary of the fishing contest is 5 fish on Peter’s side: 4 Mahi Mahi (2 of which were lost), 1 tuna, for a total of 3 for Peter. On Jake’s side we had 6 hits: 2 long billed spearfish, 3 Mahi Mahi and one unidentified fish (lost) for a total of 5 for Jake. We had 4 hits north of Bermuda: 3 Mahi Mahi and one long billed spearfish. The other 7 hits were south of Bermuda, and 5 were on November 26th!

We’d like to pay tribute to our crew: Peter Vaiciulis, fine cook, super mechanic, dedicated fisherman, great friend; Dolph Gabeler, also a fine and very tidy cook, sailor par excellence, novice but eager fisherman; Ben Jacobsen, nimble sailor, fine photographer, and accomplished bill fisherman; and Herb Hilgenberg, expert meteorologist; also to Ofa and Dari and Nikki, who were willing to send their husbands off with us. Without all of them this trip wouldn’t have been possible!

Until May, when we make our return delivery to Rhode Island, best wishes from the crew of Avalanche in Antigua.