With apologies for repeating ourselves, it feels great to be in the Azores. The waters in front of Horta are protected by a large breakwater, and the scenery is outstanding with the old red-roofed buildings of the historic town nestled underneath the radioactive green of the volcanic hillsides. The color is undoubtedly nourished by the combination of comfortable temperatures and the steady series of rain squalls that blow over the island, and it’s probably reinforced by the fact that our color palette has been limited to various shades of blue and gray for the past two weeks.
Now that we’ve arrived, some passage statistics:
- Total time: 12 days plus 13 hours
- Total sailing distance: 1947 nautical miles to cover a straight line distance of 1760nm
- Average speed: 6.5 knots
- Previously undiscovered leaks: 2
- Motoring hours: 35
- Spinnaker usage: 0
- Halfway cakes baked (and eaten): 1
- Number of sailor by the wind jellyfish seen: too numerous to count
- Delicious meals prepared by Angie: many
The sail from Bermuda to the Azores was like three completely different passages, and it was dominated by a single major tactical decision. The first four days were spent following the typical passage route to the north east. We enjoyed 15-20 knots of breeze on the port aft quarter, sailing gently downwind. About four days out from St. George’s, we began to see some troubling weather develop in the forecast – a large (~750nm diameter) low pressure system would stall ahead of us before heading south directly into our path.
Lows in the northern hemisphere feature winds spinning in a counter-clockwise direction, so if we wanted to avoid the worst of the wind we had two options – we could try to sail north over the top of the low, or we could dive south in an attempt to make it around the bottom. After much discussion, knotted stomachs, and lack of sleep from worrying about the weather, we made the decision to head south around the bottom.
So, the second four days were spent giving up nearly all of our northing as we sailed as fast as possible to the southeast in an attempt to head around the bottom of the low. Despite the negative psychological impact of giving up nearly all of our northing with still more than 1000nm of distance ahead of us, the sailing conditions were nearly perfect – 8-10 knots just ahead of the beam becoming 10-15 directly on the beam. Nearly any boat will sail well with those conditions, and Madrone ticked off the miles towards the southeast.
Once we made it around the bottom of the low, nearly all of the final four days were spent sailing upwind in 20-30 knots of breeze. The weather forecasts both missed on the wind direction, and our plan for a fast beam reach was replaced by charging over (and often directly through) the 8-10′ (2.5-3m) waves, all while heeling at 20 degrees, pitching even more, and doing our best to stay dry.
But about 100nm east of the island of Faial, the next weather system finally forced the remnants of the low out of our path, and with 20 knots just aft of the beam we closed the remaining distance averaging nearly 8 knots.
Just like on our other passages, we seemed to learn more about Madrone and the best way to keep her moving and as comfortable as possible in various winds and sea states. Perhaps one of these days we’ll feel like we’ve actually learned how to sail.
