Sailing offshore to the Bahamas

We woke up early on Halloween morning, checked the weather again and decided our plan to depart for the Bahamas was still on track. Todd hoisted the anchor and we departed Old Point Comfort anchorage in Hampton, VA at 7:30 am. On our way out the channel, we heard the Coast Guard on the VHF radio, notifying vessels that a Navy submarine was entering the channel from the sea and all vessels must stay at least 500 yards away. In fact, the Coast Guard asked several sailboats in front of us to alter their course. Then we saw it! Wow - it was huge! We could even see midshipmen standing on the conning tower. What a wild sight! I love the water but I sure can't imagine living under it for an extended period of time!

As Freya motored out the channel, we could see what looked like bridges on each side of the channel. The strange thing is that both of these bridges abruptly ended before crossing the channel. We could even see vehicles driving on the bridges and then, the vehicles would suddenly disappear. Like the submarine, these vehicles were headed under the water - in a tunnel! The Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel. Another crazy site and it was barely 9 am!

We exited the channel, rounded Cape Henry and started heading south along the coast. It was a beautiful day but the winds were calm so Freya motored all day. Like Freya, lots of sailboats were heading to Cape Hatteras which made it fun and exciting.

We used the Predict Wind app for departure planning and weather routing. Everything looked good for a safe and comfortable passage. We also asked Chris Parker (a real person!) and his team at the Marine Weather Center for a custom five-day weather forecast and route for our trip. Chris gave us detailed latitude and longitude coordinates on where to round Hatteras, where to cross the Gulf Stream and what kind of weather to expect - wind direction and velocity, squalls, etc.

As Parker predicted, the wind picked up from the south after midnight. As the waves increased in size, Freya's pace slowed. Sailboats don't like to motor straight into the wind and waves. We were less than 10 miles from Hatteras, when we decided it was time to head southeast for the Gulf Stream. We turned off the engine and started sailing at 4:15 am. Finally! Just the sound of the wind and waves - our favorite!

The Gulf Stream flows in a northeasterly direction off of Cape Hatteras. So wind from the south/southeast was perfect for crossing the Stream. Mariners don't want wind against current which causes steep nasty waves and unpleasant conditions in any type of vessel. One sure fire way to know when you've entered the Gulf Stream current, is to watch for the sea temperature to rise. The water temp in the Gulf Stream is significantly higher than the rest of the Atlantic. Thankfully, Freya has a thermometer on her depth transducer and we watched it like hawks. Current water temp: 68 degrees.

Day 2: At 5:30 am, the sea temp shot up to 80 degrees! We had made it to the Gulf Stream! The wind gradually built and by mid-morning, it was blowing 18-22 knots with gusts to 25. The seas followed suit and quickly built to 6-8 feet. We were on a beam reach (with the wind and waves perpendicular to Freya) so steering Freya through the waves was challenging. Luckily, Freya was built for blue water and handled the waves well. The best part of the day was admiring the deep blue color of the water. After being in the brown water of the Chesapeake Bay for two months, seeing blue water again was a real treat!

The wind was forecasted to go west which we needed in order to steer Freya south on her route to The Bahamas. We dealt with the big seas and waited all day - me, not so patiently - for the wind to turn. We were in close proximity to several other sailboats all day which was cool. Even when you can only see boats on AIS, it's comforting to know you're not alone out there. I talked to a couple of boats over the VHF radio. One was headed to the Bahamas and the other to the eastern Caribbean. Both were also hoping the wind would shift soon as well. Finally around 4 pm, the wind shifted to the west and we pointed Freya south. Thank goodness! On an offshore passage, just like in a bike race, the goal is to stay on course and not tack on any additional miles. We sailed until 1:30 am when the wind died and we motored the rest of the night. We take 3-hour shifts at night, with one on watch at the helm while the other tries to sleep. The wind had died but the seas were still pretty big which made it rolly and not great for sleeping. The biggest bummer was that our autopilot wasn't working well. It wouldn't hold a consistent course, so we had to babysit it which was frustrating and tiring. We both love to hand steer when we're sailing but prefer to use the autopilot when we're motoring. No such luck. The saving grace was the almost full moon! It lit up the sky and the ocean - we could see!

Day 3: We enjoyed a beautiful sunrise over the ocean. The wind filled in from the northeast (as predicted) and by 9:30 am, Freya was grooving along at 6.5 knots with her sails wing on wing! The wind and waves were behind us and Freya and crew were smiling! We sailed wing on wing all day with calm seas. We took advantage of the flat water and took cockpit showers, cooked up some comfort food and soaked up our surroundings. We closed the day with a gorgeous sunset.

Day 4: I lucked out and was on watch for the sunrise and it was spectacular! Unfortunately, the wind was too light for sailing and we motored most of the day. Another gorgeous day and we were still on course, so we couldn't complain...except about the autopilot. Babysitting it all day may sound easy but it was actually really exhausting. We decided to do two-hour shifts that night because it took a fair amount of concentration to keep Freya on course, motoring through the following seas. We both got decent rest that night. It's amazing how quickly you can fall asleep when you're sleep deprived!

Every evening at 6 pm, we talked with Chris Parker over our Single Side Band (SSB) radio. We gave him our position and he told us what we could expect for weather that night and the following day. He would also recommend the course we should steer. We would also listen to his offshore weather forecast every morning at 7:30 am. SSB was our main link to weather and other humans, so I eagerly looked forward to these chats.

Day 5: We had great downwind sailing and were wing on wing all day! The wind built and shifted a bit in the late afternoon so we took the pole down and were sailing on a reach. The wind was forecasted to build more over night, so we furled the genoa and rolled out the staysail, which is like a storm sail - very small sail area. We always sail with a conservative sail plan at night, so we also put three reefs in the mainsail.

Todd tuned into Parker's net at 6 pm. As he was chatting with Chris from Freya's navigation station in the cabin, the wind really kicked up. It was blowing 22-26 knots with gusts to 30. The seas increased too but Freya handled them like a champ. Parker told Todd to expect the same conditions all night. He recommended sailing straight south to latitude 26 where conditions would improve, and to make landfall at Eleuthera island, south of the Abacos. For the previous two days we had been on a SE course, headed for Marsh Harbor in the Abacos. We had been on this course because it was the closest landfall and we knew conditions were supposed to deteriorate. Our new course to Eleuthera put us on a broad reach which was ideal for the conditions, especially the seas.

We decided to take two-hour shifts again because being at the helm took full concentration. During my first shift, the wind blew 22-30 knots with gusts to 34. The seas built to 10-12 feet but were manageable if I kept them on Freya's port quarter. The moon was so bright, I could see the clouds and squalls on the horizon. I experienced sporadic squalls but luckily just rain, no thunder or lightening. The air temperature was very warm so we only needed our light rain gear. The conditions made for challenging sailing for sure, but I was super impressed by how well Freya handled the wind and seas.

Todd came up for his shift and as I was getting out of my rain gear in the cabin, I heard him say, "Big gust, 37 knots!" I immediately started watching the wind instruments at the nav station and watched the wind climb to 38 and then 40 knots! Yikes! Freya handled it in stride, Todd remained calm and the wind quickly settled back to 22-30 knots. Still a lot of wind but manageable.

Parker was right, we experienced high winds and big seas all night, 24-30 knots with gusts to 34, seas 10-12 feet. Even though the seas were big, the motion wasn't bad and we were both able to get some rest in the cabin. My last overnight shift was from 5-7 am. The moon had set and the sky and sea were the same color - pitch black. Ugh. It's a whole different ballgame when you can't see anything. This was the most challenging hour of the whole night for me. I kept reciting my friend Diana's saying, "You're alright, right now." That and Glennon Doyle's saying, "We can do hard things," got me through. Thankfully the sky started to get light around 6 am. I've never been happier to see a sunrise! We had made it through the night. On a lighter note, we found a few flying fish that had jumped aboard Freya overnight.

Day 6: Todd talked to Parker at 6:30 am. He said to expect more of the same conditions, 20-25 knots out of the east with 10 foot seas. Parker again recommended making landfall at Eleuthera. With the big seas, going through the cuts to get into the Abacos wouldn't be safe. The wind settled down quite a bit in the morning and I was hopeful that because we were getting closer to 26 latitude, that would continue. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case and the wind piped up many times throughout the morning and we had many squalls with rain and wind gusts up to 30 knots. Other than the squalls, it was sunny and nice. By 2 pm, the winds and seas calmed down substantially. We were on track to hit latitude 26 by evening and Eleuthera by midnight or so.

We celebrated with cold sodas when we hit latitude 26, just after 7 pm! Note our position in this photo! We felt like we had made it to the finish line, even though we still couldn't see land and had at least 5 hours to go. We had started our passage in Norfolk at 36 degrees latitude - go Freya!

Land ho! We finally saw the lights of Spanish Wells, Eleuthera around midnight. What a welcome site! We hadn't seen land in five days! Our course brought us fairly close to three tankers, entering the Northeast Providence channel (see photo). I hailed them on the VHF radio and they were all very kind and altered their courses for us. Throughout our passage, whenever I saw a tanker on AIS, I hailed them and asked for weather conditions and forecasts. All of the ship captains were friendly and gave me the information I requested. I'm sure they wondered what a little sailboat was doing out there! They were all over 800 feet long and probably didn't even feel the big seas. Most were headed to Europe or the U.S.

We arrived at our anchorage at Egg island, next to Eleuthera island and dropped the hook at 1 am. We made it! We were safe and protected from the wind and seas. Whew! What a passage! Freya sailed 820 miles in 136 hours! We were beyond thrilled! Next stop - a full night's sleep!

We crashed and slept hard until 9 am and woke up to a gorgeous morning. We were still exhausted and moving in first gear, at best, but so happy to be there. We went for a swim in the crystal clear water and that made us feel alive again. We spent the day cleaning up Freya and touching base with family and friends. We had completed our longest offshore passage yet. Go Freya!