November 22nd 2024 - Start Day for Leg Two, from Mindelo, in the Cape Verdes, to Grenada in the Caribbean. The long long awaited start day of our transatlantic crossing. We began with a relaxed cup of tea and read in bed - going to be a long time before the next opportunity! We are about to go to sea for a minimum of 16 days, passaging around 2,200 nautical miles, possibly more. The previous Atlantic sails - across Biscay, from Vigo to Porto Santo, from Madeira to Lanzarote, and even from Las Palmas de Gran Canaria to Mindelo, all pale into insignificance with such big numbers. But I find them incomprehensible really, rather than daunting. We have a good forecast, and the fabulous paradise of the Caribbean is at the other end.
We only had a few jobs to do after breakfast, being those we could not have done earlier, and those necessary to put to sea. The water in Mindelo Marina is non potable. We still have 675 litres in our tank, 60 in Jerry cans, and loads of bottled water in the forecabin. Cape Verdean Escudos cannot be exchanged for other currency, so we walked to the shop to swap our last Escudos for more bottled water. The pontoons and marina were of course a hive of activity as all readied themselves.
The start line ran from the end of the first breakwater to the commercial harbour across the entrance of the harbour. Close to the marina, and behind it there is not a lot of space. We had decided to leave after the 1100 large inter island ferry had gone. But a cargo ship was then coming in so we were asked to wait. We cast off at 1135. Such a good feeling to be going back out to sea again. We milled about for a bit under engine then, during the starting procedure tucked in at the back of the fleet, unfurling our genoa and following the throng towards the downwind start. Thankfully we were happily within lots of space. We were off!
Under genoa only we sailed out of the large natural harbour (a flooded volcanic crater) WSW into and along the channel between Sao Vincente and Santo Antao islands. My first waypoint, approximately 8 miles distant, was the mid point of an imaginary line joining the southern points of both islands. In truth we just sailed deep downwind, which took us roughly that way anyway. The channel is a notorious wind acceleration zone and was a glorious deep blue with white caps. We certainly crossed a bumpy patch of water as we left the shelter of land and fluky harbour winds behind us. Within the channel the winds were good, and gusty, but we did not see a lot over the mid twenties. We resolutely held off putting up the ballooner until out of the acceleration zone and continued happily, if more slowly, under genoa alone.
Back at base there had been talk of strategy. The wind was forecast to be light over the first couple of days with a big wind shadow of nothing to the lee of the high Santo Antao. The weather models varied in opinion as to extent and position of that shadow, some saying it could be quite big in terms of time and length. Some boats were talking about keeping south of the shadow, others were talking about sailing right over to Santo Antao, then motoring across the shadow, which was going to be relatively narrow, and then sailing along its northern side. We were in the former camp, our plan being to head south westish, deep downwind, and put more and more west in the course as the wind swung more easterly and the Trades built (so said the models and forecast). Sail south until the butter melts and then turn right.
Beyond the islands we still had lots of wind. David felt exhausted and went for a lie down, falling fast asleep. He has worked so so hard on boat preparations, for so so long, and completed wonders, but it’s too late now to do any more. He surfaced again at 4pm, by when the wind was steadying at 15-17 knots, so we put up the ballooner, without drama, and continued on our merry way. Pre cooked spaghetti bolognaise for supper and we moved into our watch routine for the first night. We both felt very much back “at home”, and at ease, with double handed life onboard.
The night was warm, but lacked moonlight. Two things kept us on our toes. Firstly we were in a pack of boats so there was lots of careful monitoring of AIS to do, and some course adjustments, to avoid others during the evening. (It’s dark by 7pm). Secondly, which helped with the first matter really, with the ballooner up we can only sail as close as 150 degrees to the wind. It was blowing from the north east at best, and often more northerly than that, so we were not able to lay anything near the rhumb line to the southern end of Grenada, and were having to drop off some considerable way south of our course. That neatly took us in a diagonal behind most of the boats in our way, who were heading higher than us. It helped us get away from them, especially when the wind got up before midnight and we put in some reefs. But over night it got a little worrying as we sailed further away from our course. Still, there was nothing we could do about it in the dark other than keep the auto pilot set to wind and ensure we sailed to the highest angle we could in the prevailing strength. At least that picks up most of the shifts. As such it was a lovely over night sail. The seas have calmed and we are rolling along nicely.