From left -r: Magic rests calmly at sunset surrounded by sandbars; observing nurse sharks; beach treasures; learning piloting hands on
Voyaging Philosophy
My sailing guides/mentors (John Rousmaniere, Andy and Mia Schell of
59-North, John and Phyllis Harries of Morgan’s Cloud) and tales of passages
gone well and poorly (Hiscocks and Smeetons respectively), my family and
countless captains and shipmates have forged my philosophy on ocean sailing.
Here, as captain, was my first chance to put my thoughts to the test. These
are the basics of the approach we used sailing Magic to the Bahamas and back.
Planning Plan your passages seasonally for downwind sailing and study the
patterns to help plan your departure. Hire a weather router as a sounding board!
Sail-handling Always have just enough sail up to average around six knots
(just under hull speed). Avoid wallowing at all costs. Engine on below six
knots. With an easily driven hull, the regular loads are reduced and sail
changes are less frequent. Discuss, even on notepad, with crew on how
each manoeuvre will be handled.
Night-time Make a thorough assessment of rig, sails, engine and crew
before sundown. Seriously consider any potential overnight weather change
and respond with conservatism, often reducing sail and tidying up all lines.
Landfall Study charts carefully and often until you feel like you’ve been there.
Plan more than a day out for arriving during daylight hours, either by slowing
down or heaving to, leaving enough time to transit channels and marinas.
Routine Stay ahead of the curve in all decision-making, whether for switching
fuel/water tanks, or when to brush your teeth. Make time to smell the roses!
Magic’s economics
We sold our Rhodes Reliant yawl to buy Magic for $160,000 (£123,000).
She didn’t need anything taking off and we only added two antennae (GPS/
AIS and Iridium) for wireless iPad navigation and comms: she came with no
navigation hardware, just a kick-ass chart table and chart stowage. To afford
the delivery trips, I had to sail Magic with friends in stages at first, to allow
for work in between. Rhode Island to Virginia (2.5 days), Virginia to Nassau
(5 days) in autumn. Then Nassau straight back to Rhode Island in the spring
(7.5 days). Average speed for all passages was approximately 6.5 knots.
Wind was ahead of the beam once on the final eight hours approaching
Rhode Island in the spring during a squall. We used approximately
17 gallons (77 litres) of fuel on the way down and 50 litres on the return trip.
A Hamilton Ferris tow generator was used on occasion to cover the
autopilot energy demands but solar panels usually sufficed.
Our family was only able to visit Magic for two vacations: Christmas
and spring breaks. We couldn’t afford the nearly four months of marina
storage fees so we offered our boat to seasoned friends. A Google calendar
was filled up and Magic spent less than three weeks in the marina the whole
winter, November to May.
44
CLASSIC BOAT JUNE 2019
THE CRUISE OF THE MAGIC
the jug is handed up or decanted is chided, and a clear run
is met with a cheer. Settling into these routines takes time.
Our family learned how to ‘wear’ Magic at a slow pace
over two seasons in the cool, eclectic waters of southern
New England and the Elizabeth Islands. We felt at home
aboard her. When it came time to take Magic the full
breadth of the Eastern Seaboard in the treacherous fall
and spring, however, I was way out of my comfort zone.
OCEAN ANXIETY
Circumnavigator Harry Pidgeon once wrote, when trying
to convince a reluctant friend to sail across the ocean,
“You can sail for a day, can’t you, Jim? That’s all it is
- one day after another.” These words helped quell my
nerves as I prepared to take Magic for her 2,000-mile
ocean round trip. I have led teams on trans-oceanic
races but never captained a passage like this.
I channelled all my worries into preparation. I checked
and refastened the screws on 100ft (30m) of Sitka spruce
masts. I checked shroud terminals, repaired cockpit locker
hinges and found Zen in the art of diesel maintenance. An
Iridium GO allowed me to check in with weather routers
and home, and my fear of being run down by a cargo ship
was mitigated by an AIS display on the ship’s iPad.
After dodging two hurricanes on the way to Norfolk,
Virginia, then Nassau, and the brilliant stretch straight
back to Jamestown in the spring, Pidgeon’s words range
true. We were happily sailing Magic day and night. Busy
adjusting sheets and making notes in the log, checking
for line chafe, and plotting our position on the chart
by pencil, divider and parallel rule. Our crew of three
naturally anticipated any change in wind and waves. The
final run up the coast saw us beam-reaching quickly on
starboard out of the trades and broad-reaching on port
in the first of the spring southerlies as we comfortably
cleared Cape Hatteras. With shortened sail at night, Magic
pressed on at around seven knots, steady and balanced.
Eric and Susan Hiscock were not seeking adventure.
For them, a voyage should be a series of “uneventful
passages”. I’m with them. Did we make our own luck
on these voyages? Or were we just with the weather? If
you had asked me the day my family was basking in the
Bahamian sun with nothing but a pristine mangrove creek
behind me and electric blue sea in front, I would have
said the former. We were proud of our accomplishment.
And I, for one, was delighted I didn’t have to row the
three miles back to Magic, against the current.