In the Dark


Sunset 600 miles from land
During our visit home, we have been asked - what surprised you the most? Given that the sail was 1500 miles (24 hours a day for 9 days) there was definitely room for a lot of surprises. The first thought that came to mind was pretty simple - "Wow, it gets really dark out here". The dark I am talking about is a "walk into your closet and turn off the light" kind of dark - oh, and now take your closet 600 miles from the closest spit of land. Oh, and make it move at about 10-15 miles per hour.

Overnight sailing was the key aspect of this sail that really intimidated me. Tom has a Kindle full of sailing disaster stories that he cheerily has shared with me over the years that generally involve a) sailboats being attacked by whales b) sailboats being hit by freighters or c) crazy people murdering people on sailboats (see Dead Calm - technically a movie but mentioned to me by so many people before this trip - thanks again).

You can understand my nervousness when the sun went down for the first time. The first thing that surprised me is that the moon did not appear until 5-6 hours after sunset. When the sun sets at 6pm that means for some long, seriously dark hours. Imagine being in the captains chair and the only lights you see forward or back are the very small red and green steaming lights on the bow of the boat and a single white light on the stern. Spray and waves come over the bow and the water is suddenly colored green and red from the lights. You no longer have a visual horizon on which to judge speed; it seems as if the sailboat is racing ahead with the speed of a freight train. Three thoughts were on my mind: 1) whales 2) shipping containers and 3) other boats.

Unfortunately for sailors, whales are very large and they sleep on the surface. This means you badly want to avoid hitting one - while it would be a bad day for the whale, it would arguably be worse for us as a direct hit could send ocean water streaming in the bow of the boat. We kept an eye out for whales during the day and did see one - the problem is that all bets are off at night (and whales migrate this time of year down the eastern coast of the US). The same is true of shipping containers. Container ships lose shipping containers in large storms and while most sink to the bottom, some float dangerously at or right below the surface resulting in sailboats sinking each year. Again, no way to spot them at night.

My third concern, other boats, is where technology has recently made overnight sailing on the ocean much, much safer.  Our boat is outfitted with AIS - stands for Automatic Identification System - which is a system that works via your VHF radio and your GPS system to alert you that a boat is within a 20 nautical mile range. Another surprise was how rarely we ever saw a boat when offshore. A small triangle showing up on the GPS screen was a moment of celebration as it meant there was another boat close by - someone to talk to, a story to tell. With AIS you click on the triangle icon and find out almost everything about a boat - name, type, cargo, destination, speed, course and much more. One night we came across a freighter carrying a load of bananas - there started a conversation rooted in boredom - how many bananas do you think fit on that boat, how many banana breads could you make from the cargo, is that a banana in your pocket... you get the idea. While we also used radar on the trip, this new technology was much more useful - if you are on a collision course with another boat it even helpfully gives you a red icon of a sinking boat and the exact location and time of your collision. Fortunately, we didn't come close to testing its accuracy.

By the end of the trip, I looked forward to being in the dark. The stars were brighter and the moonrise more beautiful than we could ever describe. Next blog post (and next surprise): Filleting knives don't just work on fish.