The Cosmos Adventure - News

Joe Dorr Report -- Atlantic Crossing

Cosmos

09^o 46' North - 056^o 57' West with update from Tobago

February 27, 2003 and March 1, 20003

We will make landfall on Tobago tomorrow.  After so many days at sea, landfall will bring a welcome change to our daily routines at sea.  We have been at sea for 23 days with the exception of 12 hours on the Brazilian Island of Fernando del Noronho.  Once we passed the doldrums, we have had some of the fastest sailing of our circumnavigation.

We left St. Helena island on the 4th of February expecting to sail 3,600 nautical miles to Tobago with one possible stop on Ilse de Salut, French Guinea.  We had a few days of excellent sailing, but then the wind went calm and we had to start motoring. We used more than 30% of our total fuel on board before we reached the doldrums.  This was cause for concern because crossing the doldrums can require a lot of engine-hours and therefore more fuel.

I began to look on the charts for alternatives, and decided that the Island of Fernando del Noronho, Brazil would be a good, although two of the three references discouraged stops there because the islands are “undeveloped” and prohibited to yachts, except in cases of emergency.  One chart we have showed a box labeled “Garage” and showed a few roads.  With those hints, I decided they must have some fuel.  If necessary, I would declare an “emergency”, saying that I must have fuel.

So after 1,800 miles and 13 days at sea, we made a 12-hour fuel-stop in Brazil and got back on Cosmos to continue on the remainder of our 3,650 mile passage.  But we made the best of our twelve hours on Fernando del Noronha.  We were welcomed by everyone that noticed we were there, including the Immigration Officer who declined to stamp our passports, lest we have to come back the next day to be cleared out of the country.

What a beautiful place the little island is.  The view from on anchor in the harbor is reminiscent of one of the mountainous islands of French Polynesia, such as Bora Bora.  Once ashore, the view from where the rainforest stopped at cliffs that dropped hundreds of feet to the ocean is unlike any I have ever seen.  The view is down the side of beautiful rock cliff faces to golden sandy beaches washed by white waves off turquoise bays that opened onto deep blue seas.  And remember the view is from a cliff side edge of the rain forest.  From our cliff side perch, we could look down at birds flying in the air below us, and turtles swimming in the ocean under the birds.  I only wish my camera could have caught all of the details of the panorama below.  We did take some pictures that will be on the web site, but certainly the turtles will be too small to notice.

Our tour guide drove us around in one of the hundreds of dune buggies that seem to be the principal means of transportation.  I sat up front, next to the driver, but George, Joost and Daniel enjoyed riding on the back lip of the vehicle, where the trunk would be on a full sized car.  And as they road, their heads were well above the roof of the buggy, even as we passed through occasional rain showers.

Fernando del Noronha is a Brazilian nature reserve/resort, used almost exclusively by Brazilian scuba divers.  It is 300 miles from mainland Brazil.   The island is very small, so after a 3-hour drive along the dirt roads, the only thing left to do is dive.  Evidently they have excellent diving among sea turtles, porpoises, rays, and sharks.  From the cliff sides, we could count as many as six dive boats passing in front of the bay, returning from a day of diving.

So, we left the island having 1,850 miles to sail, including crossing the equator and the attending doldrums, before reaching our Tobago destination.  But we had sufficient fuel, and I did not have to worry that maybe I should not use fuel now, because it would be needed more later.  As it turned out, we used almost no fuel on the second half of our Atlantic crossing.  But everyone was happy that we chose to stop at Fernando del Noronha.

Based on historical weather patterns, the nautical reference books suggest crossing the equator at 32 degrees and 30 minutes west.  At this point, the doldrums are most often the narrowest, and can be crossed more quickly.  This was our original plan, but using weather forecasts that we obtained from SeaWave, my radio email provider, I decided to continue further west before crossing.  The current conditions indicated a quicker crossing could be made at about 40 degrees west.  As it turned out, we had a harder time getting to the doldrums, than we did crossing them, or continuing on to Tobago.  The famous South Atlantic trade winds must have been keeping the pace set by the current U.S. economy.

The weather maps for the Atlantic showed 3 to 7 knots for almost all of the South Atlantic, from the equator down to 25 degrees south.  That was the weather that cost us so much fuel.  We managed to pick up wind at 3 degrees south and 32 degrees west.  We crossed the equator in 20+ knots of wind, and after that it almost never dropped below 15 knots for the rest of our passage.

We had a nice celebration after crossing the equator.  This was Daniel Walter’s first time, so he is no longer a pollywog and we have pictures to prove it.

This crew has become very proficient at launching and retrieving the spinnaker.  We have practiced day and night, and can complete the exercise quickly and regularly without problems.  As I mentioned in my last report, this is important, because we have to get to Tobago before Emily and Bill.  To speed our travel, we have flown the spinnaker in favorable conditions throughout numerous nights.  This turned out to be one night too many. 

I was standing the 2200 to 0100 (10:00 PM to 1:00 AM) watch on the 27th.  The winds were blowing at 14 to 16 knots and that is about perfect for spinnaker sailing.  We were just a couple of hundred miles from Tobago, when I heard a loud crack, followed by the loud snapping of a huge sheet of nylon sail flying lose like a flag in the wind.  The spinnaker was gone from the front of the boat, and was flying off the port beam on the end of its halyard, straight out from the top of the mast.  The windward side of the spinnaker had somehow come loose of its guy.

I immediately called the rest of the crew on deck.  They all donned their life jackets before coming through the companionway (good training and the penalty of having to buy the boat a case of beer works every time).  We looked at the situation for about 10 seconds before George reminded me of what Daniel had said earlier.  If there is no other way to retrieve a spinnaker, you simply feed out the halyard and let it eventually come down to the sea and retrieve it, once it settles onto the ocean.  This sail is 50 feet tall, and about the same width, so when it is flapping on the end of a rope at the top of a 65 foot pole in a good wind in the middle of the night, there is no way to just summon it down, without some effort and some risk.

George quickly fed out the halyard and we watch line carry the spinnaker to port, away from the top of the mast.  The halyard was almost fully extended before the far edge of the spinnaker touched the ocean, stuck, and then as other parts flapped against the sea, they stuck too.  Within seconds, the entire sail was floating beside the boat.

The problem was, the boat was still going about 7 knots.  I put one engine in reverse for about 15 seconds and slowed the boat.  Luckily, nothing went under the boat, and with some struggling, the crew pulled everything back on board.

We stuffed the big sail under and beside the table in the cockpit and immediately launched the main sail and genoa.  We would inspect the damages in the morning.  Everyone else went back to bed and I continued my night watch.

On inspection, we found that the guy (windward sheet) had abraded against the shrouds and broken.  We also found that one panel of the spinnaker to had a 20 foot tear.  The panel will need to be replaced.  In one of the Caribbean Islands, I will find a good sail loft to repair both spinnakers and make new socks for them.

On the passage, we had some of the fastest sailing days of our circumnavigation.  On average, cruising boats like Cosmos will average 120 to 140 miles.  Including the two weeks of slow passage to the equator, we still averaged 155 nautical miles per day for the entire journey from St. Helena to Tobago.  On several days of this passage, we made over 200 miles, with the highest recorded at 217 nautical miles, or about 258 statute miles.

As it turned out, the spinnakers had almost done their complete job, but not quite.  We arrived in Tobago at 2200 hours, 10:00 PM, on the 28th, or about two hours after dark.  I don’t like to go into strange harbors at night.  But Rockly Bay and Scarborough Harbor are not particularly complex, so I decided to make a trial approach, and if necessary, abandon our efforts and go back to sea and heave too until morning. 

Our electronic navigation and charts once again proved to be invaluable.  The leading lights were almost impossible to find amongst automobile lights and turn signals that were brighter in the same field of view.  But by referring to our electronic charts displayed on the laptop that show the boats position as indicated by our GPS, we were able to continue on course until we could make out the appropriate navigation aids in the city lights and motor our way to the anchorage.

We were delighted to be safely on anchor in Tobago on Carnival Friday.  The last ocean crossing of our circumnavigation is complete.  But which is more dangerous?  Open ocean sailing, or a sea of people, drunk with celebration?  Well, we only live once, so Carnival, here we come.

Best Regards

Joe Dorr, Captain of the Cosmos