EBAY TO RODNEY BAY
crossing the Channel, and none with the
ferocity of the one we now faced. By the
time I was in the cockpit the wind was 30
knots. Rain swirled around us in thick
sheets obscuring any view of the outside
world. We winched in the jib to slow our
speed but with the main out and secured
with two preventers, we could do nothing
with it. The wind and rain were so intense I
had no concept of direction. After two
hours we emerged from its grip having
been dragged five miles north. Soaked
through to the skin, we unfurled the jib
and continued our journey west.Beating the squalls
Our next encounter was so different. We
had been watching two dark masses of
cloud head our way. One passed along
our starboard side and the other along the
port side, trapping us between two
weather systems. This created a wind
tunnel, along which we now accelerated.
In darkness we sailed dead downwind,
hitting 9 knots. Waves fizzed as we surfed
along, and I kept the boat as straight as
possible, our speed helping to keep us
steady. In contrast to the last encounter
this was exciting, and much of our fear
had gone. As squalls became more
frequent we learned how to avoid them. If
one caught us, we headed south and
emerged quickly from its grip with enough
wind to sail towards our destination.
By Day 18 we were exhausted. We’d
found the elusive wind and now foughtagainst the constantly changing currents.
As we tried to sail directly to our waypoint,
we were being pushed off course by
streams of water that could move faster
than the wind. We now just wanted to get
there and with enough fuel we didn’t mind
burning diesel to get there sooner.
Still encountering squalls, we headed
towards St Lucia. The swell increased as
the sea bed ascended from the depths.
Surfing each wave gave us extra speed
but again the wind dropped, leaving the
engine to do the hard work. I marvel that
such an old engine can run for so long
without missing a beat. She had done us
proud and deserved her next oil change
more than ever.
As the sun rose on Day 21 black clouds
formed a seemingly impenetrable ridge
between us and St Lucia. We unfurled
more sail to help push through towards
our goal. Adjusting the sails for the wind
shift, we rounded Pigeon island and
Rodney Bay came in to view. We had
made it, an almost impossible dream had
come true, reaffirmed as the horn blasted
out as Twenty Twenty crossed the line.
So many memories flashed through my
mind as the relief and excitement took us
those last few hundred metres into the
marina. We’d come to appreciate that
arriving is just a new beginning. With the
whole Caribbean to explore our
adventure has only just begun.Attempting repairs to the autopilot
Twenty Twenty docking
in Rodney Bay, St LuciaMission accomplished: Atlantic crossed!message reappeared. I removed the
motor and tested it to discover it worked
fine but made a strange clicking noise.
When I stripped it down, the problem was
obvious. Those infamous words flooded
back to haunt me. “You don’t need a
spare motor, they never go.” I glanced at
the plotter’s ‘distance to waypoint’. It was
910NM. We slipped effortlessly back into
our old routine. Why had I not gone with
my instinct and bought that spare motor?
But it was to get worse. I was woken by
a frantic call from Jan that the wind had
increased. We’d evaded an earlier squall
and the skies had been threatening to
bring rain. We’d been sailing in clear blue
skies with clouds to the north and south,
but now those grey clouds with their
telltale grey shadow peeled off and
headed in our direction.
We’d only encountered squalls when
Tim Wright/photoaction.com