The Good with the Bad

The year 2014 closed its coffin loudly for Taia, setting up its successor, 2015, for an even louder and rather uncomfortable start. On the last evening of the year, Taia was anchored in front of Lynyard Cay, a common staging anchorage for boats aiming to cross south to Royal Harbour, Spanish Wells, or Nassau. Unbeknownst to Taia's crew, the outgoing year had arranged for wind speeds considerably higher than had been forecast. The crew dropped the hook on the last afternoon of the year and, as they prepared the boat for the 55-mile crossing, wondered why the wind was picking up to 15 knots and then to 20 knots, when it should have stayed at 10 to 15. “Oh well,” they said naively, “it'll quiet down through the night.” Not!

January 1^st, 2015, was a rough day at sea. As Taia plowed through confused seas that seemed to come from everywhere, including the sky and the bottom of the sea, her crew fell in a less-than-festive mood. While Taia romped happily in 20 to 25 knots of wind, the crew held on, white knuckled, and failed miserably at keeping down their New Year's Eve dinner. Chucking into a bucket quickly deteriorated into a feeble poking of the head out of the cockpit and barfing all over the side deck. No matter, though, as there was enough spray to wipe it all off within seconds.

In reality, the picture wasn't one of complete and utter lack of control. On the contrary, although the crew were uncomfortable, they made sure the boat kept moving safely and quickly towards their destination. There was quite a bit of wave surfing and lurching and suddenly stopping. Taia moved fast and arrived in Royal Harbour without incident.

Bad days are a necessity. How would we appreciate the good ones without the contrast that the bad ones provide? Fortunately, though, it's easy to coerce life into giving us more of the good ones than the bad. And so it is that, after a quick day of recovery in Royal Harbour, Taia and her crew kept moving and enjoying a string of good days.

There was the afternoon at the beach on Meeks Patch, which included a quick spear-fishing outing that produced a tasty lionfish. There was a beautiful night at anchor in front of Current Settlement and the subsequent crossing of Current Cut to get to the west side of Eleuthera. It was then that we started learning that the landscape of the island of Eleuthera is different than everything else we've seen of the Bahamas.

Cleaning lionfish while at anchor in Meeks Patch. The spines can be lethal, so I cut them off wearing thick gloves

Eleuthera has cliffs on both the bank and the ocean side. This island is long and narrow. At Glass Window, the narrowest spot, it is possible to see the Atlantic Ocean from the banks and vice versa. Without the highway bridge that was built there, Eleuthera would be close to becoming 2 different islands.

The Glass Window, Eleuthera, viewed from the bank side. The Atlantic Ocean lives on the other side of the bridge 

Ocean side cliffs at Glass Window

The Queen's Baths, on the ocean side, are a collection of natural pools on the rock formation that have water coming in from the ocean. We were there at low tide and waded in a couple of the pools, which were receiving a gentle stream of sea water from the waves breaking against the rocks. I'm told that at high tide, and especially when the easterly wind is blowing hard, the pools are swamped by the waves and wading in them is not a safe option.

The day we visited Glass Window and the Queen's Baths, we dinghied over to what we thought was a hotel or restaurant on the beach. We thought we'd go in, have a couple of drinks and use their infinity pool overlooking the bank. As we approached, a couple got in the water and came to say hi. It turns out the place is a private house and they were renting it for a week. Chris and Angel, along with 12 other members of the Munson (Mundson?) family, invited us for an evening of drinks and conversation by the pool. What a treat! These guys are extremely nice and we had a lot of fun with them. It was a great ending to a great day.

The next day we had planned on sailing to Hatchet Bay and join Hold Fast. But there was a blow coming a couple of days later and Hold Fast was sailing to Governors' Harbour and then on to Rock Sound for good protection. We decided to sail directly to Rock Sound, a 45-mile run from Glass Window. The wind was perfect that day and we flew the spinnaker most of the time. A pod of 6 dolphins swam in our bow wave and gave us a wonderful nature show. All 4 of us spent a few minutes on deck watching the dolphins while the auto pilot and the sails kept Taia moving at over 5 knots. Another good day.

Dolphins spent some time with us while we sailed from Glass Window to Rock Sound

Camila had her birthday in Rock Sound. That day we met Juliana II and Almost There, two kid-boats that had been sailing together for a few days. We all gathered in the gazebo by the ocean hole and had some cake. The kids took advantage of the school playground when the conversation turned to fixing boats, weather, and cruising in general. Good for them!

Camila's birthday with the kid crews of Juliana II and Almost There

A good weather window presented itself to cross Exuma Sound and most of the boats in Rock Sound took advantage of it. It was another excellent sailing day, calm in the morning and more challenging in the afternoon. My laziness that morning payed off. I was feeling guilty for not hoisting our spinnaker in the mellow conditions, but I knew the wind was going to be too much for that sail later in the day, and I didn't want to get caught in over 12 or 13 knots of wind with the chute up. As I procrastinated, I found the perfect excuse to not use the spinnaker: I was going to troll a fishing line for the first time. Out came my spanking new fishing pole and lure.

Just to make a good day even better, a mahi mahi decided to eat the lure at the end of the line. Ten minutes after I deployed it! Camila started jumping and pointing at the pole in the stern, which was obviously under load. I jumped on deck and started reeling in. And so I caught my first mahi mahi. Everything worked out in our favour: the seas were calm, the fish was relatively small and easy to land, and it wasn't a shark or a barracuda or any other type of fish I wouldn't want to bring on deck. I cleaned the mahi underway and we ate half of it that night. Delicious bounty from the sea! By the time I was done cleaning the fish (and the deck!), the wind had picked up and it was too much for the spinnaker. Procrastination for the win!

First time using my new rod and reel. Smug smile after catching my first mahi mahi

There you have it. One bad day with a silver lining that landed us a good string of good days.

We're now anchored in the southern edge of the Exuma Land and Sea Park. Our plan is to take a cursory look at the rest of the Exumas as we make a bee line to George Town. Auto Paul is flying there in a fortnight and he'll spend a few weeks with us as we sail south to the Caribbean. Hopefully there'll be few bad days and many good ones on our longest passage to date.

The plane wreck used as dinghy mooring between O'Brien's Cay and Little Halls Pond Cay

(Note: I wrote this about a week ago and only just posted it. We're now in George Town)

First Mahi!

We just caught our first mahi-mahi!! Photos and story to come soon...
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At 10/01/2015 13:18 (utc) our position was 24°52.23'N 076°15.02'W

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Back in Royal Harbour

We just dropped the hook in Royal Harbour. The Atlantic Ocean slapped us around today with 6-to-8-foot seas and 15-to-25 knots of wind. It was a romp that Taia enjoyed much more than her crew. The forecast was 5-to-10 knots of wind a couple of days ago. Yesterday afternoon it was 10-to-15, and an unexpected 15-to-20 picked up in the evening right after we staged in Lynyard Cay.

Of course, we considered staying in the Abacos, but it didn't look like there'd be a weather window to come south any time soon. Also, we could use the experience. And an experience we got! The first one of 2015.

Here we all are, happy to be back in Royal and looking forward to moving on to Eleuthera as soon as the weather allows.
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At 01/01/2015 21:52 (utc) our position was 25°30.95'N 076°50.49'W

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New Blog Feature

I've added a new link to the blog's navigation bar called Position Reports. When you click there you will be taken to a new blog that I started. The new blog's purpose is solely to show our super-cool-awesome-incredibly-hip-and-fabulous map of automatic position reports (they're not fully automatic, but you may go ahead and assume that I'm awesome enough to automate the whole process).

The truth is we now have a subscription to SailMail, a service that enables us to send email through our SSB radio. My parents are the sponsors of this subscription (by the way, if you're feeling inclined to sponsor any aspect of our cruising, feel free to inquire within). It takes a couple of clicks for me to generate an email with our position data and send it directly for publishing on the Position Reports blog. Furthermore, I'm able to post on this blog as well. So no more scrambling for an internet connection to let everyone know Taia has safely arrived at her desination. I promise to publish a "we're safely anchored" message after every passage. Even during passage, I'll make every effort to publish Taia's position at least once every 24 hours.

Credit where credit is due: I stole the idea of this semi-automated map from Hold Fast. I totally raped some JavaScript off their blog and modified it to suit my fancy.

Happy 2015!

Our first day heading south

The time has come for us to start moving again. As usual, it has taken us longer than we thought to get ready.

Ever since we got back from Argentina we've been working on the boat. There were a few changes that we had planned on making to the boat and some others that we had no option because things stopped working. Also, as we prepare to leave the USA, we usually get in a sad money-spending mindset. Not because we want to spend our precious money but because we want to be prepared for everything. And so, on top of filling up our boat with water, fuel and lots of food, we also buy lots of spares: things that we know we'll have to change along the way (like oil and oil filters) and things that we think we might need if something breaks and we're in the middle of nowhere.

Paul and Ernie, heads down in the engine room, working.

It wasn't all just work... Matias celebrated his 6th birthday!

Farewell dinner with friends.

Monday was the chosen day for us to leave. We were anxious yet sad. For all intents and purposes, Jacksonville has become our home in the United States. It's not the city itself, but the great people we met there. It was great to spend all this time with you guys and we will miss you terribly.

Our first day on the ICW was uneventful. We lucked out with all the bridges coming out of Jacksonville and didn't have to wait for them to open for us. Yay! We even made it to The Three Sisters Anchorage we had planned on anchoring just barely after sunset.

Just before getting to the anchorage, I said to Ernesto, “Well, at least, anchoring is going to be easy, it's all mud here so the anchor will set on the first try. We won't have to worry about finding those sandy patches like in the Bahamas.” I like it easy!

Well, for those of you that believe that anything that can go wrong will go wrong, we're proof of that. There was a lot of current in that spot and, surprisingly for the ICW, lots of water. So we had to let out a lot of chain and try twice until the anchor was set properly. Not too bad, right?

The surprise came the next morning when we tried to lift the anchor up and it wouldn't come off. We tried a lot of times but it was well stuck in there and the windlass just gave up. How I wished I was back in the Bahamas and could see the anchor from Taia! All we could see here was brown water, but we suspected the chain was stuck on something. In the end we decided to call our friend Paul, who dives for a living, so he could come and have a look at what was going on down there. (He didn't actually have a look, since the water is so muddy, he had a "feel"). It turns out the anchor chain was hockled with a big metal piece and lots of other people's rope (from other anchors maybe?).

Paul and the Captain getting ready to work on getting the anchor untangled.

Paul suited up and ready to go get our chain unhockled

It was pretty bad luck for us to anchor just there but we got lucky because we were still pretty close to Jacksonville and already knew someone that could help us. As usual, there's always a bright side!

For those of you who know Paul and call him Diver Paul or Auto Paul, we've come up with a new nickname for him: Super Paul! He saved our bacon today and we can't thank him enough.

A random act of kindness

According to Wikipedia, today is World Kindness Day. I think it's such a beautiful concept that I decided to talk about this in school. We talked about being kind and what that means. We also watched this video, that I find very sweet, about random acts of kindness:

I also asked the kids to think of two situations where they were kind to somebody else and somebody else was kind to them. When talking about kindness, it is impossible for us not to think about 5 individuals who have impacted our lives immensely and continue to show their kindness to no end:

- Fred: Thank you so much for being our driver around Jacksonville. For patiently waiting for the kids to choose their Halloween costumes and even saving Halloween night by taking us to a better neighborhood for the kids to trick or treat. Thank you for the whole bag of candies for Halloween.

- Paul and Shari: Thanks for helping out with the boat projects and working alongside us. Thanks for spoiling the kids endlessly. Thanks for driving us for Matias's doctor appointment and for bringing mommy juice when Matias fell off the bike.

- Myron and Dena: Thanks for answering all the questions we have about cruising and helping us with the technical stuff. Thanks for the yogurt and the applesauce for Matias. Thanks for babysitting the kids. Thanks for being our mentors and just for being there.

You guys have made our lives so much more pleasurable and happy. When we think of kindness, we think of you. A big thanks to you!

Family, friends and a slap in the face

Five weeks ago we came back to Jacksonville, where Taia was sitting on the hard, after spending 2 months and a half in Argentina.

It was a great vacation. Contrary to what most people think, cruising is not always easy. There's always work to do, constant planning and decision making, non-stop weather watching and, in our case, school work. In Argentina, all we had to worry about was what and where we were going to eat. That was it.

It was the longest time we spent in Argentina since moving to Canada back in 2000. This gave us an opportunity to spend a lot of time with friends and family. The kids saw a parade of familiar and sometimes not-so-familiar faces. They even went to school in Bell Ville, Córdoba, where they made a bunch of really good friends. I kept joking that I was going to have to maintain a schedule for all of Camila's social activities. It was almost like having a glance at the future and seeing Camila's teen years. Oh, my...

And then it was time to come back. After spending so much time on land, the cruising life and all that it entails almost seemed something from the past.

The moment we stepped into the yard where Taia was, we met our friend Paul. Soon after, Fred and Shari arrived. Of course, they were there to help out as they always do. And so after two days of working in the yard, Taia was finally on the water again (insert clapping here). Very exciting stuff for us.

Ernesto cleaning the prop

Fred and Paul helping out, as always.

Taia ready to be launched.

Finally in the water again!

As soon as we were ready to leave to take Taia to our final destination, the Ortega Landing Marina, we noticed our chart plotter wasn't turning on. Funny, this was working just fine before we left. In the spirit of moving things along, we made do with Fred's cell phone as a plotter and off we went, with Paul sailing his boat close behind us. As soon as we were clear of all the boats around us. Ernesto decided to check the newly installed stuffing box. Not surprisingly, it was leaking water, a big No-No when you're on a boat. So we quickly put up the sails and turned off the engine. Ernesto adjusted it and on the engine came again. After doing this at least 3 or 4 times, we got it almost right. Of course, in the middle of all this, we managed to run aground in shallow water for a minute or so.

Afterwards, we were on our merry way when we noticed our mighty auto pilot wasn't veering to port. At all. Another instrument that was working just fine before we left and that we need to investigate.

In the marina, and after a lot of research on Ernesto's part, we realized we needed to buy a new chart plotter as our 5-year old one was no longer supported. What should have been an easy, 1-hour project, ended up taking a few days to finish. The cables for the new chart plotter were different than our old ones (even though they were both the same brand) so Ernesto had to re-wire it. After that, we realized our new chart plotter wasn't receiving any AIS information (something that we use to see other boats that are close to us). After trying pretty much everything he could think of, Ernesto realized it was the NMEA output that was no longer working and ended up re-wiring the unit so that the serial port connects to the plotter rather than the NMEA port. As our dear friend Paul says, "it's the Pi factor:" However long you think a boat project is going to take, multiply that by Pi.

At this time, we're thinking that the boat was hit by lightning during the time we spent in Argentina. We learned this lesson the hard way and next time we'll unplug all electronics before leaving the boat on the hard. Rookie mistake, I know, We still have to verify whether the auto pilot has been a victim to the lightning as well. Hopefully not.

Up the mast, to fix the steaming light.

Camila wanted to try the chair.

And Matias wanted a turn too.

So that's how, after spending a lot of relaxed time in Argentina, Taia received us with a slap in the face and showed us the not-so-loving aspects of the cruising life.

To top it all off, Matias fell off the bike this past weekend and ended up with 6 stitches on his chin and a broken jaw. It appears that, because he's so young, the bone can mend itself without surgery. But he's going to need to see a specialist for at least 6 weeks to make sure everything is OK. As the doctor said, "this is what happens when you encourage your kids to have an active life. But then you have to deal with the consequences when you have bad luck."

With these events, November 22 is no longer our departure date. We will stay in Florida until December and even that is still up in the air.

The only sure thing is that, as soon as we can, we'll start moving again.

The Boat Bum Socialites We Have Become

The month of July was a fun sequence of social events intermingled with homeschooling and boat projects. We spent it at Ortega Landing Marina, where we were able to meet with old friends (people whom we met in December/2013, and who have made us feel right at home since the first time we met them) and new friends. There were plenty of activities for kids and grownups, all of them fun and picture worthy.

Jacksonville has a great zoo that is accessible from the water. Now that we have a decent outboard, we were able to take our dinghy for a morning stroll among the zoo's denizens. Paul, Shari, and Camila rode on Gretel (Paul's power boat); Natalia, Matias, and me rode on our nameless dinghy; and Fred drove. Fred's driving turned out to be quite popular for the group, since Paul and I were left alone to take both boats back to the Ortega river while everyone else rode back with Fred.

Jacksonville Zoo

Mrs. Beautiful (Natalia's homeschool teacher alter ego) orchestrated a graduation event for the little people aboard Taia. Camila successfully finished grade 2 while Matias is a proud Senior Kindergarten graduate. We're expecting them to get jobs and make money using the skills they acquired during the school year. Maybe we'll have to wait a few more years for that...

The two graduates with Mrs. Beautiful and Mr. Muscleman

Within hours of docking in Ortega Landing Marina, we started making friends. In our previous life, we weren't the most outgoing people, but after a year of cruising all 4 of us have become much more sociable. Also, the boating community in every place we've visited is always welcoming and open to meeting new members. We have made some great friendships along the way.

It was an honor for us to host 2 birthday parties: Fred's and Shari's. Both events were chock full of laughing and fun. The main theme of both parties: boats, of course! (Sorry Shari!).

Camila and Matias had a true summer vacation experience. They spent hours at the pool playing with their new friends. But it wasn't all fun and games, there was also some schoolwork, and some of that was done aboard Lapis Lazuli with some of the other homeschooled kids.

Arts and crafts morning aboard Lapis Lazuli for the marina's boatkids

Instant BFF's

Time, that despicable tyrant, doesn't stand still. Our time in Jacksonville has yet again come to an end. Two days ago we motored to Green Cove Springs, where Taia is currently sitting pretty on the hard. Paul and Fred came with us on the 20-mile trip, which made it super enjoyable. The wind was fickle or right on the nose, so we had to motor all the way.

Paul (left) and Fred (centre) steered all the way to Green Cove Springs

Now we're in Weston, north west of Miami, visiting friends for a couple of days. Not being aboard, not seeing all the projects that require attention, makes us feel like we're on vacation. Next week we'll continue to enjoy our vacation away from Taia while we visit friends and family in Argentina. We'll miss Taia, but will come back soon enough to get on the water again and continue cruising south to the Caribbean.

Hasta la vista, baby!

Introspective Retrospective

Here we are, a full year since we moved aboard. And what better way to celebrate it than to bore all 3 of our blog readers with some stats, some thoughts, and some remarks? Buckle up, readers, this is going to be riveting!

In the words of my 30-year-old self, I can say, without fear of overstating, much less of being wrong, that this past year has been pretty fucking awesome. Honestly, that phrase sums it up. And although at 41 I should be able to come up with something more sophisticated, maybe even literary, when it comes to total and absolute bliss and happiness I'm hard pressed to find better words. Think about it: I'm living a dream that was born in 1988 after reading Robin Lee Graham's Dove; my wonderfully loving and caring and understanding wife has not only embraced but also appropriated the dream; and my kids continue to frequently state that "this is the best day ever." We're all thriving, we're all learning, we're all happy.

The uneasy and somewhat nervous smile in October/2013, replaced by a more relaxed attitude and posture in the cockpit while sailing in July/2014

We have sailed over 2,600 nautical miles in the last 12 months (for the nautically challenged, that's over 4,800 km; and for the metrically challenged, that's over 3,009 statute miles; and this is where I stop translating units). It's a modest distance, considering the current state of transportation technology. But we've seen so much and learned so much while travelling that distance! From the Chesapeake to Florida, on to the Abacos, the Exumas, the Jumentos and the Raggeds, and back to Florida. We've covered that distance at such slow speed that we've had ample opportunity to get to know the places we've seen. Our average speed for the 12-month period is approximately 0.3 knots (0.55 km/h or 0.34 mph).

Our anchoring platform has seen its good share of use and abuse. The anchor has plowed the bottom in 88 different locales. A few more if we count the few quick stops we made along the way, places where we didn't spend a night (the beautiful beach in Pelican Harbour comes to mind). By the way, don't forget to check out our map of anchorages if you want to see all the different places where we've anchored and slept.

Beach in Pelican Harbour, looking east from Sandy Cay

When we look back to our first few weeks after leaving Spring Cove Marina in Maryland, we are amazed at how much we've learned. Every mile we sailed, we learned something new about the boat, about the waters we were traversing, about ourselves. And when we went ashore we learned something new about the societies that inhabit the places we visited. It's the multiple whammy of learning while travelling!

Obviously, not everything has been picture perfect. The boat requires constant attention. Our watermaker stopped working in the Abacos and we had no idea what could be wrong with it. Out came the manual, out went a couple of emails, and within a couple of days we had the issue more or less figured out. It wasn't a big deal, but at the time it felt like a major annoyance. We have been mostly diligent with boat maintenance and fortunately our onboard systems have performed flawlessly. The few things that broke weren't crucial and we were able to fix them promptly.

Then there's the lack of space. There are 4 of us living aboard Taia; spaces get tight. Sometimes all 4 of us need to be in the galley, either getting something or on our way to the cockpit. If people could see us when that happens they would laugh hard at this family of lemmings, bumping into each other and completely tangled up.

It's been a good year. For me, happiness is a fleeting concept: once you find it, it evaporates easily. It needs to be nurtured constantly. Now is the time to be happy. I am ferocious and voracious in the pursuit of happiness.

Looking back, it's been a wonderful first year

Of Squalls and Lessons in Seamanship

It had been a couple of weeks since we'd started looking for the right weather window to sail from the Abacos to northern Florida. We would passage through over 300 miles of ocean and estimated it would take us somewhere around 60 hours to do it. With the rainy season well upon us, we were seeing squalls every day, so we became convinced that we would be hit by one or more while at sea; no matter how well we chose our weather window.

We sailed back and forth in the northern end of the Sea of Abaco, from Green Turtle Cay to Allens-Pensacola, stopping in Spanish Cay, Coopers Town, and several other cays along the way. It was fun and interesting, but our focus was on the weather and on being ready. Natalia prepared meals that would be easy to eat underway while I prepared everything on deck.

Finally the right window presented itself and we decided to stage our departure from Fox Town, Abaco, in the northwest corner of Little Abaco Island. We had about 60 miles of easy sailing ahead of us in the Little Bahama Bank. After we left the bank, we agreed that we would maintain 5 knots of speed, even if it meant starting the engine, for the remaining 250 miles.

The weather pattern we had been observing was quite easy: no wind in the morning, variable wind in the afternoon, with squalls sweeping by between the afternoon and the evening. A nice 15- to 20-knot wind was expected to fill in from the south to southwest that evening. And it was expected to hold for the next couple of days. Perfect sailing wind for us!

The Bahamian flag is in tatters after flying on our starboard spreader for 5 months

An early morning departure gave us some relaxed, though slow, sailing in the bank. We had planned to get to the Gulf Stream by 2100 but didn't exit the bank until 2300. By 0100 the next day we were different sailors than the ones that had lazily weighed anchor in Fox Town the previous morning.

Mr. Squall and his best buddy, Mr. Lightning, were posed to give us an interesting passage. They loomed angry to our west. During the day we could see Mr. Squall's obvious approach. And yet the first time he came to pay us a visit, we weren't entirely ready. Thus came the first casualty of the passage: one of the side windows of the cockpit enclosure was ripped open while I furled the jib in 30 knots of wind. Normally one of us pays out and controls the sheet while the other furls the sail; that way the sheet doesn't flail violently. But Natalia was busy getting a meal ready, so I decided to let out the sheet entirely and furl the sail on my own. The sheet was angry! It flailed and snapped and ripped while I furled. It hit the window and ripped it open.

The young crew got a surprise gift while underway

Except for that first squall, the first afternoon and evening went by quietly and slowly. But then Mr. Sun went to bed and Mr. Squall could sneak up on us under the veil of darkness. Wait a minute! We have radar! We can still see Mr. Squall coming! Unfortunately, our skipper decided to keep the radar off during his first night watch of the passage.

Of course, Mr. Squall approached fast and ready, taking advantage of our skipper's naiveté (he actually thought he'd be able to see Mr. Squall coming in the dark!). And this is how we learned that the good ship Taia will gladly take 35 knots of wind with full jib and a single reef in the main. To the skipper's credit, he took the helm and kept the boat under control while Mr. Squall buffeted us. There was no crazy heeling, no sudden lurching, just the natural pitching of a 46-foot sailboat doing 6 knots in 6-foot seas (that's a lot of sixes!). Unfortunately, the jib, which the skipper allowed to flail a little, lost some of its stitching on the leech. Nothing major. Second and last casualty of the passage.

The night watches went by and the second day at sea arrived. The 15- to 20-knot winds that had been forecast were actually 20 to 25. The conditions were slightly rougher than we'd expected, but we were moving fast! Thanks to the higher-than-expected winds and the Gulf Stream we were doing 8 or 9 knots.

On the second night I found my groove. It was blissful. The 3-hour watches felt shorter than the night before, and when I came off I fell asleep instantly. And it was good sleep! The first night I'd half slept and half thought about the boat, our progress, the conditions. The second night I slept and had dreams and rested.

I've read many times that experienced sailors prefer longer passages because it takes a couple of days to acclimatize to the conditions and adjust to the routine. I agree wholeheartedly! (Although a 54-hour passage hardly counts as a "longer passage").

Because the ride was bumpy, Natalia's hard work of preparing meals for the passage was somewhat wasted. Once we left the bank and entered the Stream, where conditions were rougher, we ate a lot of crackers and jam, sitting on the cockpit sole. But that's ok, we got a chance to enjoy those awesome empanadas and everything else she made, when we got to Florida.

Great crew!

The crew was in their best behaviour. After the first night, which is the roughest time we've had at sea, Camila woke up and asked if we'd had "good sailing" the night before. Obviously she slept soundly and didn't realize that the boat had pitched and rolled quite a bit.

It was a good passage and I'm hungry for more.

Land ho!

We arrived in Fernandina Beach on the afternoon of the third day. The obligatory squall of the evening hit us right after we set the anchor in the Bells river. The next day we checked into the United States and motored a few miles on the ICW to get to Fort George Island. While visiting Kingsley Plantation on the island, our friend Paul showed up on his powerboat. He'd motored all the way from Jacksonville! It was a great welcome to the US.

First day back in the US. Florida heat!

After visiting the plantation, we weighed anchor and motored to Jacksonville. Paul, also known to other cruisers as Auto Paul, took the helm and steered all the way while Natalia and I sat around and chatted (except for the part where the skipper was at the helm and ran aground, Auto Paul steered all the way). What a great welcome and a great way to cruise. Thanks, Paul!