The rise and fall of the Ocean swell change can change from a dry gentle rolling motion to something more like a ride on a wet log flume in a matter of minutes. Crossing the Gulf Stream from Ft. Pierce, Fla. to Port Lucaya. Grand Bahama in early December looked as if it was going to be a smooth ride. And it was, for the first 12 hours.
At 6:30 a.m., a slight breeze from the southeast barely rippled the still waters as Imagine glided away from the mooring ball at the Vero Beach City Marina heading towards the inlet at Fort Pierce. Ahead of us the sailing vessels Blackthorn and Edelweiss followed the meandering Intracoastal Waterway to the Atlantic Ocean. Breeze Hunter brought up the rear.
East southeast winds freshened to 12 knots as the four boats travelled on an incoming tide out to the open ocean. Seas were somewhat confused at the mouth of the inlet, but as we adjusted our course, the waves became four to six foot gentle swells with eight to10 seconds between each rise. With light wind on the nose, Imagine pointed to Grand Bahama Island and motor sailed with only the mainsail.
The west wall of the Gulf Stream was located fifteen miles off Fort Pierce. The deep dark blue waters of the stream moved quickly northward. Instead of chugging along at 7.5 knots, Imagine slowed to 5.2 knots as the powerful current fought against the set southeasterly course. The sun was bright. The skies were blue. The seas provided a gentle forward to aft ride. Blackthorn and Edelweiss hoped to get lucky and dragged fishing lines behind their boats.
Around 6:00 p.m. Clouds began to fill in and the winds increased to17 knots. The swells became untamed waves that were spaced much closer together. By the time I came back on watch at 11:00 p.m. The waves were spitting spray. Ed told me to put on my foul weather gear. Of course I ignored him and opted for a light wind breaker. The wind picked up to 22 knots, gusting 25. Imagine was now pounding forward and aft, bouncing as she plowed through the wind driven waves. Ocean spray whipped around the port side of the boat and into the cockpit. "What's so bad about a little spray? At least it is warm," I thought.
It wasn't 10 minutes later that Imagine dipped into a trough between two waves. As she tripped into the hole a wave washed over the bow, dodger and bimini, filling the decks with water that spilled into my lap and onto the sole before draining back to sea through the deck and cockpit drains. Okay, that was a little more wet than I needed. It was now way too late for foul weather gear.
Over the next five hours. I keep an eye on the other boats. Blackthorn fell behind on Imagine's starboard stern. Edelweiss followed and Breeze Hunter sailed off to port. The lights from their masts bounced up and down in the frothing waters. I know that they too are having a rough night. Occasionally, we call each other on the radio to check on how everyone is holding up. There is comfort knowing that there are others traveling the same watery road.
Seven hours later, after playing trampoline with mother nature, Imagine sails into the lee of Grand Bahama Island. The seas settle as the the land blocks much of the wind. I'm more than happy to go below at 4 a.m. It is time for Ed to take over.
He wakes me at 7:00 a.m. We prepare to enter Bell Channel leading to Port Lucaya Marina. Breeze Hunter, with a shallower depth than Imagine, calls out the depths on the VHF radio as we follow them into the shallow channel at dead low tide. The lowest depth is eight feet and all is good as we peer at the sand through the clear turquoise waters. Ed seamlessly allows the current to push the salty boat towards a long fuel dock where Kathy and Darius from Breeze Hunter grab our lines. Blackthorn and Edelweiss are anchoring out while Jim, on Blackthorn, dives on his prop.
It is 7:30 a.m. Twenty-five hours have passed since the journey began. An hour later we are in a slip. The yellow quarantine flag waves above Imagine's deck. We clear customs by 10:00 a.m. and raise the Bahamian courtesy flag. We straighten the boat and toast a bagel. Next we contact our family to let them know we are safe.
Music from Count Basie Square at the Port Lucaya Marketplace is festive and seasonal. I sit in the cockpit enjoying a soft breeze under blue skies surrounded by the colorful Bahamian waters. Palms trees seem to sway in time as Bahamians in the square belt out Christmas Carols with a lilting sing song accent. "Oh night when Christ was born, oh night divine, ya mon!"
In the square palm trees are adorned with colorful Christmas lights. A 25 foot tree sits among toys and packages. Bahamians bombard Ed calling out who their Christmas wishes. Without a drop in the beat he answers, "I'm going to have to think about that. I know what you were doing last Thursday night." Everyone laughs. The ladies want to touch his beard.
What a difference a few hours can make. Was it only a few hours ago that I was saturated with seawater? There's the saying that there is always a light at the end of the tunnel. Well we found it.
I wish everyone a joyous holiday season and a New Year filled with only the best that it has to offer.
