Open Ocean

Meandering back through the Spanish islands we set off for the Cape Verdes. After leaving the Canary- land/sea breeze we motored for a hundred miles to reach the trade winds.

We had an epic crossing. The new wind vane “The Eskimo” worked magically and the electric auto pilot “Captain Dan / Meggie” worked sweet when the wind was to light for the Vane.

We installed an 80 watt solar panel earlier on our "boys trip" so cold beer and music could be enjoyed along the way. The conditions were ideal for the self steering mechanisms and they held out for the whole eight days of following wind. So what did we do?

We made it look easy. I read three books about sailing around the world, and learned to splice cored braided line. Why not?

We played card games (BS), studied Spanish and French, caught fish, let fish go, practiced using a sextant, looked at the map of the world and contemplated all the options.

In fact the primary activity became contemplating the endless number of scenarios, studying wind patterns and fueling our endless ambitions.

We had a two scheduled parties, one for the “halfway mark” and one for the Double Bruyn’s 10,000 mile.

Then there was that spontaneous night when we wore costumes, brought out the disco ball, got completely fueled on rum (thanks Monsie), sang songs and danced the night away under the stars and moon light, then slept all the next day. Someone coherent stayed with "The Eskimo" at all times, thanks Ludo!

After steering us towards Orion's belt for a wonderful detour Ritchie slept for two days, but he was the champion of entertainment that night and has become my new idol.

We sailed at a leisurely pace.

It’s wonderful to be out in the ocean in a warm climate with consistent wind and swell.

The conditions were ideal. There was no rush to end the experience.

We found a rhythm.

Sailing under a reefed main and no foresail, so that the boat stayed dry and reasonably level.

We relaxed from the normal worries of coastal sailing.

Out in the Ocean, where the weather is stable there are no rocks to hit, seldom boats to collide with, and once she’s trimmed properly she’ll sail her self. So keeping watch means: just watching.

Watch the wind power the boat in that magical way, watch the wind vane mysteriously gyroscope our helm straight, watch ones surroundings for that new depth of awareness.

That first glance out to sea seems void and abysmal. What can be described as "mind numbing" begins to show you things, and becomes more and more interactive. When you are steering you can watch the GPS to hold your course. You can also watch a compass. You can also watch a little piece of string and its angle to the wind. You can keep the wind on the back of your neck, or the side of your cheek depending on how you sit. You can note the angle of the boat to the swell and its motion. If anything changes, goes wrong or you loose your bearings, you can refer back to any of these.

We played around with the sextant. We found our selves within one hundred miles of where the GPS put us. It’s fun to begin to relate the map of stars in the sky to the way we use maps of land. The constellations pass like features on the landscape. They also break the night up just as the sun breaks up the day. Orion’s Belt arcs across as the night goes by. It rises as the sun sets, it peaks in the sky then sets to the west. We broke the night watch into four-three hour shifts. Correspondingly Orion’s path through the sky was broken into consistent quarters. And over our passage south the Southern Cross noticeably rose as the North Star sunk in the horizon to the north. We were passing constellations like landmarks on the map. If we were more familiar with the map of the stars it would be easy to have a sense of time passing and have a feel for your location on the surface of the earth.

It all gets lost in the street lights at home.

Mid Atlantic Magic

We couldn’t have expected how beautifull it was in the Azores. The five Islands that we visited all contained natural wonders worth a visit. Our pack of friends had grown by the day and its became one social even to the next.



We had to see more of the Islands and time is always running out. We ventured off from Horta at midnight and to send us off the people of Pico lit the sky with fireworkds of yet another festival. We arrived off the beaten track at the Island of Graciosa the next day. On Graciosa with in a full days hike there was another volcano, but within its perfectly intact rim lay a hidden a valley filled with birds, old growth forests and green pastures with graizing cows. Inside the volcano valley is a beautifull cave with fresh water lake etc. soo we spend all day hiking upto the rim and circlling around trying to get in. After back tracking and getting rather frustrated we saw a truck driving around deep in the Volcano then suddenly dissapear into the wall. The road that lead from town and interested with the rim trail on our map was actually a tunnel and they neglected to mention that the crossing of these paths was actually separated by a thousand verticle feet of cold hard lava. My frustration with the cartographer only simmered when we found a lone human in the very bottom of the volcano selling ice cream, postcards and tickets to an enormous cavern. The ice cream was so good infact it was Magnum’s newly realeased double chocolate dipped in caramel then again in chocolate, yeah its the one that is on the advertisement board but they never actually have, well they had it, so all was redeemed. But as you can imagine the guy was so lonely that being next to him was like a vortex of human contact and I could feel him thinking of words he knew in English so the urge to leave was growing as he began to form a sentence and eating an ice cream cone in front of someone risks a feeling of guilt and with a cone this good and un explored by my taste buds I didn’t want to risk it. I had to cut short his one human interaction by walking away from his lonely and curious stare from the doorway of his commerce shed so this new cone could have a fair chance, and then again walk strategically slow enough away so that I remained far enough behind Morning Glory so that she wouldn’t be inspired to have a bite. No worries it all worked with the new flavor, its wonderfull, but I got caught with the wrapper in hand as I caught up with Glory again and had just enough chocolate on the stick to ward off any hints of guilt.
With so much to tell, and soo little readers attention span:
Pause for a hot chick photo:

we walked around some more, stood in aw, saw stuff, did stuff, and eventually set sail for Terceira. All in all Graciosa was good but I would not return until the Marina is finished.








Here´s a great story befor I loose you. Glory and I rent bikes, que with Photo:

We ride around the Island of Terceira,












begining with a cheese farm, peaking with a free Sangria flooded local food fest, pause for photo:



Stopped for a nicest hat contest:



















View back from first place:














A view from everyones list of a hundred things to do...ride a bike through old rock walled european country side for 12 euros:













and ending with a free tent at a camp site with hot showers and a free personal dinnner at a small vinyard´s wine house. Which turned out to be just some guys personal home and how we got him to serve us dinner, taste wine and admire every last fixture all the way into the new bathroom was a blend of his general hospitality, the language barrior and my strong desire to get into what I though was some top notch invite only restaurant. The whole day was magic. We ate to our fill of exotic pleasures for free, the excersize on the bike felt great and the scenery again is more than I can describe.










Where we rode has some interesting features. We glazed in salt and adorned in sweaty clothes, glided into this town of Biscote, to find the most dramatic coastline, worked into wine country. The volcanic shores over hundreds of years have been converted by man into fertile wine country. Everyone wants to know something about wine well here we go. In northern Terceira (an Island in the mid Atlantic) they build four walls and within reserve a small pit with fertile soil.
The grape vines are protected from the harsh marine environment by the walls and the sun and earth are aloud to do their work. Here´s an active lot.

Crossing the Mona

Dominican softball will carry on without us, but it will not be the same sin crew from "Ultima Noche". We made great friends and built quite the commmunity in a short period of time there in the DR, but the tradewinds died down for us and it was time to cut loose. The furry set in and we made the mad dash to Puerto Rico with twelve other boats. Traveling east in the tradewinds means motor sailing tight along the coast when the cooing air on land rushes back out to sea canceling the incoming winds forming a night lee. Columbus took advantage of this effect by rowing east by night and anchoring through the day. Sunrise after sunset we snuck along the coast. The weather window was short, and the pressure to stay in the comfort of the group was intense. We were all crossing into new territory and none the less the passage has a rough reputaion. Being small and slow we lead the pack off the line in order to stay with the group. Our friend Christa left his anchor and two hundred and twenty five feet of chain because it was hung up on a coral head and the prospect of falling behind and gettting left on the North coast when the weather picks was worse than replacing $1500 of ground tackle. All in all we had sunny days undersail filled with cardgames and watermelon, and the ocasional mecanical problems, but nothing tragic. Sailing around the world, is more or less getting as ready as you possibly can, then setting of when its time with tiller in one hand and wrench in the other.


Humpback whales escourted us along the way, and as we pointed due east just north of the hourglass shoals I saw a whale as big as our boat jump completely out of the water and hang in the air. It was one of those moments where staring off into the sea payed off. The experience was thrilling, and it wasn't far from the boat. The memory will remain and forever testify for me that some of the most amaizing life and natural phenomina happen in that vast and seeemingly void expanse we call the sea. I have spent days on end watching it, and I still see new phenomina after years on the water.
We slipped into Puerto Rico at 3 AM under a cloudy sky illuminted by the industrial lights of Mayaguez. Two boats abondoned the passage due to fatigue and two pulled in behind us. Overall we finished seventh. The race wasn't official, in fact no one else knew about it, but amongst the bigger boats we tend to place better when the race goes on un-announced.:)

Gun Cay and on the way

We reached the teal Bahamian waters and entered into the life of subsistence gathering and barter. When are you ready to set off on a trip around the world? What do you need to know, and what do you need to take? A month of Home Depot runs and Wal-Mart provisioning drained the kitty and the soul, and filled the closets with “things we need”. We couldn’t fit any more stuff on this boat, so it was time to leave- I guess we were ready.

We crossed the border of the US and Bahamas on the eve of my 27th year. It was a great year. I hope to find new ways to make a living that are adventurous and pose the opportunity for personal development and the next challenge.

Rob, Derek and I speared some fish today and got our first sense of what it actually takes to put food on the barbecue. Day one we caught nothing, day two we caught our first, and day three we caught our first meal. The debate is open about what fish we have been catching, but the freshness is amazing, and the experience unbeatable. Derek nearly shot a sleeping shark thinking it was the biggest fish he had ever seen. Numerous sting rays and jelly fish made us aware of our thin skin and vunerability.

The crew had a blast when we decided to fly our spinnaker for the first time…. It’s not a one person activity, and when we got it flying it was so beautiful that I had to get pictures of it. So I jumped into the dinghy and attempted to take some pictures. Well, the boat took off and the dinghy began to sink. The boys had to keep the boat on course so that the spinnaker wouldn’t tear. So there I was, terrified, watching my new boat sailing beautifully off into the horizon with two laughing deckhands. I bailed water and finally caught up- all the while they got more pictures of Captain Ahab out adrift behind the boat than we had taken of the new spinnaker.

Rob leaves tomorrow, to rejoin his wife in their first trimester and the boat is heading South East to Great Inagua and then to Panama. This adventure is continually fueled by the prospect of exploring different cultures and a simplified lifestyle, coupled with the opportunity to volunteer and serve at whatever capacity we can. As Jimmy Rouge used to say “The people we meet make the experience, the places will always be there”.

We are going to take a slow journey to the Eastern Bahamas where the fishing is rumored to be untouched and the surfing is credible. The boat remains named Nicole Marie until Glory comes with a paint brush to reintroduce this old boat as “Ultima Noche”.