St. Helena here we come!
So long, Cape Town!
Our South African visas were up, the winds looked good, and Catalyst was packed and ready
Captain Dunbar Lewis, Pete’s childhood friend Dave Strahl, Pete and I had been working like crazy to prepare for this day, and it was finally here! We were excited to embark on the first leg of our journey to St. Helena Island, nearly 1900 nautical miles away.
Our departure timing was down to the wire, with the Balance team powering through final punch list items and hopping off the boat just before we motored out of Cape Town’s marina midafternoon on August 25. Throughout the morning, our newfound friends stopped by to wish us well, many of whom we hope to reconnect with in Grenada this fall.
Once outside the marina, we hoisted the mainsail…only to have it suddenly crash back down. Not exactly a promising start! We found that the fitting connecting the sail to the head car had twisted loose – something easily rectified…except that the piece we needed was at the top of the mast! Lucky Pete got to take his first (and certainly not last!) trip in the bosun’s chair to the top of our 72’ mast to collect the wayward piece. GULP! We did some quick retrofitting before successfully rehoisting our sails, and off we went!
As Cape Town’s skyline faded in the distance, we started settling into our new home. Throughout the afternoon and evening, strong winds and rough seas with 5+ meter swells had us all a little queasy, and I gave thanks that we were on a relatively stable catamaran instead of a monohull!
My first watch fell from 7-10pm. Having never sailed at night before and still becoming familiar with our Garmin instruments to assess our journey’s progress, wind speeds and direction, water depth, oncoming ships etc., I was definitely nervous. To ensure all went smoothly, Captain Dunbar slept in the cockpit about 10’ away, graciously answering my queries each time I awakened him. It’s been a steep learning curve, yet I’m amazed at how much more capable and confident I’ve become each day.
Our shift schedule is 3 hours on, 9 hours off, with each of us manning the helm every 12 hours. We’ll keep the same shifts until we reach St. Helena and then we’ll swap slots there and again at Fernando de Noronha.
We have 5 sails in our quiver: 1 huge mainsail and 4 head sails to select from, depending on the wind. In this first leg of our journey, the conditions have been varied enough that we’ve used all our sails at some point and have also motor sailed when winds are light. We’ve averaged around 170 nautical miles/day. On our record day, we sailed 207 nautical miles in 24 hours and reached sailing speeds of 20.7 knots, surfing down swells and handling gusts as high as 40 knots.
The days seem to fly by! We’re busy raising/lowering sails, preparing meals, cleaning, fishing, studying equipment manuals, etc., as well as troubleshooting the inevitable mechanical issues. I’ve also tried to fit in at least 30 minutes of exercise each day. But it’s not all work: we generally enjoy our meals together and relax playing board games or pleasure reading. Out here with no internet or WiFi, we aren’t distracted by our mobile phones, even though we keep mindlessly reaching for them multiple times a day. No calling friends, playing apps, or even Googling answers to our questions—our phones have essentially become pocket-sized cameras!
Much of the time it’s been incredibly peaceful and beautiful on the water. Hearing the seas rushing by, stargazing the nighttime sky, watching the sun rise and set, seeing the birds swoop around the boat – it’s truly like a dream.
On the other hand, we’ve had days of high winds with huge swells that sound like gunshots as they crash against the boat, and, as one friend likened it, “freight train noisy” as they rumble between our hulls. Occasionally we’ve had heavy seas spurt over our bow or, more often, flow into our cockpit before draining back to where they came from. (I’ve learned that water inflow to the cockpit is called “pooping”, and that in the olden days, the cockpit was called the “poop deck” because people could relieve themselves on the deck and the water would flush it away…I prefer our electric flush toilets, thank you very much!).
We’ve also experienced some steering system snafus as well as several all-hands-on-deck calls in the middle of the night to wrestle down our spinnaker amidst sudden heavy winds. Of course, nearly all of the heart-racing events seem to come at night, just to add to the “excitement”!
Throughout it all, I’m very thankful for the quality of Catalyst’s construction and the expertise and teamwork of Captain Dunbar, Pete, and Dave. I feel safe, comfy, and exhilarated as I continue to learn the ropes on this amazing journey.
