Spinnaker sailing
Wed Nov 22 2023
Well, despite the fact that none of us have ever done an Atlantic crossing (East to West - quite different from West to East, although none of us have done that either) it’s turned out to be quite different from what we all imagined. And, to be fair, I’m not entirely sure what everyone else thought it would be like but we’ve all said, at one time or another, ‘not how I thought it might be’. Clearly, it’s still very early days and as I look at the forecasts it appears that things are very likely to change.
Sailors have many expressions to describe sea conditions from ‘blowing dogs off chains’ - very windy; to ‘flat as a plate of piss’ - very little sea running. So far, on this leg, we’ve experienced more of the latter than the former. And I think that has been the biggest difference from how we probably imagined it might be. I’ll try and explain.
In our modest sail wardrobe we have a spinnaker. Well, to be precise, an asymmetric spinnaker. Asymmetric, in this instance means that unlike a conventional spinnaker that is, believe it or not, symmetrical an asymmetrical spinnaker is designed to have one end pinned to the bow and the other sheeted back to a block three quarters of the way up the ship. It’s primary use is for beam to broad reaching and because, when hoisted, it feels like the side of a house it is, by and large a light winds sail. Due to its size, when packed up, it looks and feels like 4 or 5 bodies stuffed in a body bag. And, given that storage is an issue on a boat finding somewhere for it to live is quite important.
Having dragged the bodies around to various locations on the boat I finally found what I thought was an absolute peach of a place , that is at the rear of the cockpit tied between two stanchions that support the Bimini. Ideal I thought, we’ll secure it nice and tight just there, it will be a perfect backrest and I doubt we’ll have to think about it until we are cruising around some far flung Pacific island as we glide through crystal clear water mowing down the odd turtle.
Not so.
We hoisted it on the first day and it’s remained so ever since. That, in my opinion, is exceptional. Firstly, it can be a bit of a beast so if the wind gets above, say, sixteen knots the boat starts to get over powered. When the boat is over powered it’s like wrestling with the wheel of a double decker bus (full of passengers and their shopping) that’s hurtling down a hill and not responding to steering. All of a sudden someone rings the bell because they want to get off and you have absolutely zero chance of stopping it. Secondly, it’s a sail used for reaching (going diagonally down wind). Trade wind sailing (where we are) is normally in 15-25 knots of breeze, dead down wind. A bit (a lot) like our run down from Las Palmas to Mindelo. There is no way it should be out and about on a leg like this.
However, it has given us some great speed, probably one to two knots greater than conventional white sails. One to two knots may not sound a lot, it’s about the speed you might go around a supermarket if you’d never been there before and struggled to find anything, but out here and over the distance we are hoping to travel it is a big deal and will hopefully make some difference. As mentioned in earlier dispatches, it has played a huge role in dragging us up from 83rd to forty somethingth. Furthermore it has remained hoisted at night. What??!! I know, it’s totally the last thing I ever thought I would do out here. But, I know this will change when the vicious squalls that normally prowl across the Atlantic (who are currently on vacation causing havoc in somewhere like the Med) Raise their ugly heads. Sadly, they are due to be back on patrol over the next few days and by that time the dear old spinnaker will be packed safely away and the body bag returned to the aft of the cockpit where I hope it will remain until we pitch up in those Pacific islands.
The other sail I was anticipating would not see the light of day, on this crossing at least, is the mainsail. My thoughts were that we would have the twin headsails out for 90% of the voyage and the boom, normally used to leverage out the mainsail would remain empty and simply be used to pole out one of the two twins. But instead, it’s been the spinny’s companion for these last 600 miles and they have both got on very well together.
Lastly, sea state. Of course there is a swell, in fact there are two swells, one from the North, created by the depressions that sweep across the North Atlantic a few thousand miles away, and an Easterly swell created by the local wind. But so far, nothing to speak of in either direction. That is also remarkable. I was expecting to be hurtled down the face of some giant rollers as we sat white knuckled in the cockpit wondering if we would make it through the back of the wave in front.
Anyway, enough for one night. It’s midnight and I’m off watch now until 0600, just after first light. Can’t wait.
Post script - woken at 0230, spinnaker wrapped around forestay. Pretty much torn to shreds as we tried to retrieve it. Bugger. Lessons learned.