2008 Transatlantic Yacht Delivery: Reminiscence and Nostalgia

Before moving out to Thailand to live, I spent a few years delivering sailing yachts...

All around Europe and the Med, in the Caribbean, Australia, and a few other places. Most of my passage files have, unfortunately, gone to dust with one too many hard drive crashes...

Except I was carrying out some file admin the other day and discovered a DVD with some Garmin files on it (I used to carry a Garmin handheld chart-plotter with me on all deliveries). These KML/KMZ files open nicely in Google Earth.

Purely a reminiscing, curiosity thing (I thought I'd lost all my files in too many hard-drive crashes and moves over the years), but looking at the voyage, it all came flooding back: every tack, gybe, passage tactics, and so on.

Les Sables D'olonne to Tortola, BVIs

The delivery was to sail a Lagoon 440 catamaran from Les Sables D'olonne, from the Biscay coast of France to Nanny Cay, Tortola, British Virgin Isles in August 2008.

There were 3 of us on board: me, skipper; Ron, 1st mate; and Terri, crew and boat owner: it was her and her husband's yacht. She wanted to do do the crossing on its inaugural voyage.

(Image: the entire passage)

My 7th Transat

For myself, this was my 7th transatlantic (North and South hemisphere and both ways in each), but it was the first I'd done as a delivery skipper in hurricane season.

The main risk at this time of year is Tropical Revolving Storms developing off the African coast, typically around Cape Verde, gaining momentum, building, and then developing into something much worse.

Weather Info Is Critical

On delivery, from a skipper's point-of-view, weather information rules. It's constantly on your mind. When sailing around Europe, you're always in range of something or someone, but on transats, not so much.

On these types of passages, after leaving the Canary Islands, you're out of range for about 3 weeks. With this being 2008, though Iridium phones were available they were ultra expensive and a luxury few of us delivery skippers could afford.

Myself, I carried a Short Wave Roberts radio, a Nokia something-or-other (slightly less-than-anything-resembling-a-smart phone), which had a voice recording feature on it, and lots of these printed out (an amalgamation of weather info from multiple sources):

(Image: my weather plan)

In the box on the right, you can see the Meteo France information and transmission times.

I'd have my SW antenna streamed out, pointing in the rough direction of France. The radio on and tuned it, Nokia app ready to hit the record button, and then listen out for the weather.

On some days I'd get nothing. On others, partial information. And occasionally, it'd come through perfectly. Regardless, the Garmin handheld had a barometer built-in and that was always on.

I've tied it in with some photos taken en voyage.

It might appeal to a few...

Joining the Yacht

(I Was Already On Passage on Another Yacht)

A month or so before, I'd picked up a brand new Salina 48 yacht in La Rochelle called 'Fruits De La Mer' (it's like an author's working title: it'll do for now) and was sailing it to Charleston, South Carolina.

Except we didn't make it.

Halfway to the Azores, we sprung a leak and had to return to Europe. The delivery agency told me to take it to Cascais, near Lisbon. Apparently, it was the only place they could get a crane big enough to haul a catamaran out of the water: mono-hulls are easy in comparison.

(Hauling out 'Fruits De La Mer. Me, Russ, in mid-foreground with grey top and blue knee-length cargo pants).

As it transpired, it needed to be hauled out and the sail drive mount on the port side needed fixing: but, there was another yacht waiting in Les Sables D'olonne for me to take to the BVIs.

So, it was Lisbon to Paris, and then drive to LSD. The crew member on this Salina 48' delivery couldn't make this trip, so Ron, who was my 1st mate, came with me.

(Image: Les Sables D'olonne)

I'd been to LSD several times before, so knew where everything was and what to do.

Preparing the Yacht

As these yachts are brand-spanking new, they need to be protected for the passage. Naturally, when you arrive at your destination, and despite having sailed them over 4,000 nm, the new owners want them in an as close to factory condition as possible.

The first few days are spent doing just that:

(Image: cardboard city)

(Image: anywhere metal (from your safety harness clips, saucepans, etc.) can smash into anything and chip or scratch it gets covered.

En Voyage

When provisioned and the weather's good, it's time to go.

(Departing LSD)

(Bon voyage)

Check the Sails

Because this was a new yacht and we didn't have the opportunity to hoist the sails while in the marina this is the first thing to do once clear of the shore:

(Course changes made to hoist and test the sails and make sure nothing's leaking)

On passage from LSD, or anywhere along this coast, the goal is to get into deep water (it's safer).

Get Over The Atlantic Shelf

If memory serves me correctly, it's about 120 nm to get into deep water: around 24 hours at 5 knots speed.

As you can see in the image below, the light blue close to shore indicates the shallow water: the waves can be short and sharp here and it makes for uncomfortable sailing (in heavy/rough weather, this is the place you don't want to be).

When you cross the 'Atlantic Shelf' (the rougher area where the Sables D'olonne Canyon is marked) you're now into deeper water and the sea and waves become more undulating and smoother. That's the first step done.

Then it's off across Biscay and, hopefully, to get around Cape Finisterre before inclement weather creeps in.

If we can't get around Finisterre, then just being close to the Spanish coast will do as there are several boltholes there: La Coruna and Viverio to name but two.

Note: The Bay of Biscay is the graveyard for countless vessels and it's not a place to be caught when the weather turns - it can get seriously nasty and very quickly in there: again, the entire Atlantic Ocean is being pushed towards Europe and it goes from 4,000m deep to 70m and less as it approaches land: all that energy has to go somewhere!

However, with the Atlantic ocean pushing towards Europe, it's not as easy as it sounds.

Not least the weather, but also because of fishing boats.

Fishing Boats - The Bane of Sailing Yachts

If you don't know, when sailing there are 'Rules of the Road': who has right of way and under what conditions.

Sailing yachts have to give way to fishing vessels who are fishing (during the day they hoist certain shapes that tell you what they're actually doing; at night, they show different coloured lights and sequences).

The first tack to port was to avoid fishing boats. Catamarans don't sail too well into the wind, so it takes us way off course to the SE.

After we're clear, we can tack back to starboard and start heading West again.

However, just before we get to 'Gascogne Knoll' there's a wind shift and because of the new direction, we have to tack to port to keep sailing or start the engine and motor.

Where we are, it makes zero sense to motor, so we head towards Northern Spain to get in the lee of the mountains (this will protect us from the wind and we can motor along much easier and at a faster speed).

Anchor in Viveiro

(U-turn and into Viveiro)

As we pass the entrance to Viveiro, we try and push through to get past and around the northermost tip of Spain. But it was not to be.

With the wind as it is, we were making about 1 knot through the water and though we could've pushed on, this would've burned all our fuel off, made for a really uncomfortable night, and the incessant crashing of the waves and pitching forward may even have damaged something.

So, it was about turn and into Viveiro.

The marina was full so we dropped anchor and waited on weather.

Stunning Viveiro

I'd been here twice before (it's much cheaper the La Coruna, and stunning). Though we couldn't go ashore, there are worse places to be.

(At anchor in Viveiro)

(Stunning Viveiro. Photo by Terri)

As soon as the weather was favourable, we upped anchor, resumed passage, and headed to Finisterre.

Cape Finisterre - The Cape of Death

This is the biggie.

Remember, for Europeans, this was the end of the known world until Columbus in 1492, and when the weather's bad, it probably does feel like the world's ending!

Getting past Finisterre is THE major waypoint. When it's behind you, it means you're out of the Bay of Biscay and the passage gets easier from here.

Another couple of tacks to avoid fishing boats north of La Coruna, and then it's in close and straight around the corner...

(The Cape of Death - photo by Terri.)

It is, indeed, plain sailing after that, and it's down to Cascais to pick up my provisions from the previously aborted trip (the Salina 48 that we hauled out).

(Closing on the Portuguese coast and Cascais)

Ron on the bridge in Cascais Marina

South to the Canary Islands

Apart from it being Hurricane Season, it really is easy after this.

Down to Gran Canaria...

Into the marina...

Provision for the crossing, effect some repairs, and wait on weather...

Go South for Safety

Given it was Hurricane Season, rather than head straight across, we headed South for 4 days.

Straightaway, this takes us closer to The Doldrums and, if a Tropical Revolving Storm (TRS) did materialise, would hopefully gives us enough time to alter course, head south and get out of the way.

The other benefit, of course, is it took us closer to the Trade winds.

To the Caribbean We Go

Now it's just a case of trim the sails, put your feet up, watch out for the very rare chance of seeing another vessel, read some books, have a chat, play some cards, and fish...

Approaching Land

When sailing a yacht into the British Virgin Islands, I've never had a good experience with customs in Tortola. Never.

I know not, maybe it's just me, or maybe they're just having a bad day. But it's each and every time...

So I prefer not to go there.

Into Virgin Gorda

So, when coming from Europe, I'd always stop on the neighbouring island of Virgin Gorda. For some reason, the customs at Spanish Town seem to have far less bad days than their neighbouring island colleagues (or maybe it's my aftershave!)

(At anchor in Spanish Town, Virgin Gorda.)

After 3+ weeks at sea, it's time for some decent food, a couple of beers, and a clean-up.

To Nanny Cay, Tortola

A quick trip across to Nanny Cay and we're at our destination:

Time now to return the yacht to its former glory and hand it over to the new owners (in this case it was the 'Catamaran Company', and agency through whom Terri and her husband were going to lease the yacht).

Job done, it's time to fill out and sign the logbooks.

Passage Details:

• SY Nina, a Lagoon 440 catamaran.
• Departure port and date: Les Sables D'olonne, France, 12th August 2008
• Arrival port and date: Nanny Cay, Virgin Islands, 30th September 2008
• Ports visited: Cascais, Portugal; Las Palmas, Gran Canaria, Canary Islands; Spanish Town, Virgin Gorda, BVIs.
• 36 days on board, 4,586 nautical miles (tidal), 165 night hours, maximum wind strength Force 7.