Question

My biggest fear and concern about dropping everything and taking my wife (who is more enthusiastic than I am) and three kids cruising is $.

• Will I have enough?
• How much is enough?
• Will I be able to earn anything underway with dive gear and being a licensed captain with systems experience?

This is always my main stumbling block.

– Tom

4 Answers

Pam Wall, s/v KANDARIK

My husband, Andy, and I were working parents of necessity. When we planned to circumnavigate we had the very same questions that actually kept us from departing for a whole year after our intended time to be able to sail away from an income. And that was a mistake. We had a little stash of money, not much, but we knew if we lingered until we had enough money, we would never leave!

So, after a year’s delay, when our children were a year older, then 4 and 7, we did finally just cast off with what little we had, and we knew we would have to make it do! We just knew! So, with that in mind, and the free air filling our sails as we headed for the great South Pacific, all care disappeared with that first breath of wind filling our sails for the voyage around the world. The reality was that we had to be very careful of what we had with us. We never felt as if we were missing anything! We were careful and smart, and found that we could survive easily on our 39 foot sloop with much much less than we anticipated. We were actually happy and proud that we could curb our land bound appetites and still sail and see the wonderful places that we made as landfalls around the world.

We did find work when we stopped in a few places. We put the two children in real schools which was great for them as they met children and teachers from different cultures. We worked while the children were in school and replenished some of what we had spent. Then we took off again, westbound, and found other work further down the Trades and again put the children in real schools which was marvelous for them and allowed us to get more in the piggy bank, and then carry on again further west.

This was how we lived and paid for the most fantastic life a family could ever ever have together!!!

It was not a flamboyant life of spending, it was a carefully thought out of what we could spend and what we did spend. Our biggest expenditures were eating out, which we just did not do often, renting cars to really get inland and see the countries not just the harbors and we always rented from RENT A WRECK type of places, and haul outs for our boat’s maintenance. Food was carefully chosen when needing replenishment and we fished and fished and fished and had a love of fresh fish that makes eating on land almost impossible now as we only could eat FRESH CAUGHT FISH that tasted completely different and so much better than any store bought or restaurant could offer.

We found work, and work found us. We had to be careful and thoughtful of the countries laws where we worked, but we always seemed to be able to work and not break any laws, which is the only way to do it.

If you asked me how much was in our budget, I could not tell you. If you asked me how much we spent, I never kept track. If you asked me how much the experience was worth, I would not hesitate to say a million trillion dollars!!! We made what we had, and believe me it was not much, work for us. We never were without what we needed and we saw the world from our cockpits and our children met and got to know people from around the world which I feel is the only hope for that elusive “World Peace”

Don’t put it off, go while you can, go before it is too late, and handle the situation as it happens. I have learned that you can make all the excuses in the world to not cast off, and believe me, don’t do that. Just go and make it work with what you have and remember your family is the greatest asset you can possibly hope for in life!

Pam Wall
S/V Kandarik
www.pamwall.com

• On this website:
Pam Wall  Answers 12 Questions about Sailing as a Family

Nadine Slavinski, S/V NAMANI

 I have two answers.

1. One is the general cost of cruising, which is an excerpt from my book, Pacific Crossing Notes: A Sailor’s Guide to the Coconut Milk Run (by Nadine Slavinski & Markus Schweitzer).

The most difficult question to answer is how much cruising costs, because every sailor has his or her own definition of “necessity” and “comfort.” The best answer may be Bernadette Bernon’s “it costs what you’ve got.”

We know sailors who have crossed the Pacific on an average of US$500 per month and others who might multiply that number by five, ten, or even more. A frugal crew with an older vessel that never ties up at a marina, goes out for a meal, or hires help for repairs will be able to go on a long way on a tight budget. Their principal expenses will be boat parts, food, cruising permits, fuel, and insurance (if they purchase insurance at all). Of these, the latter two are highly discretionary. Given fair conditions, we often chose to drift along for days instead of motoring through hundreds of dollars of diesel just to make landfall sooner.

Similarly, the costs of outfitting a boat vary widely. Some crews spend top dollar for safety gadgets, electronics, and creature comforts, while others are happy with a back- to-basics approach. All in all, most cruisers report that they spend a fraction of what they do back home since transportation and accommodation costs are essentially zero. After all, anchoring is free, wind is our primary source of propulsion, and deserted atolls offer limited opportunities to spend money.

We consider ourselves cost-conscious sailors. We pay for boat and health insurance and treat ourselves to the occasional meal out while making our own repairs and otherwise watching our wallets closely. We cruised the Pacific from 2011-2014 for an average of US$90 per day – which included everything but the cost of the boat itself: food, fuel, insurance pro-rated by day, cruising fees, and parts/repairs. (We paid approximately US$1700 per year for boat insurance and US$1500 per person per year in health insurance.) Our normal daily operating expenses were much lower than that $90 average, but the overall average is skewed by periodic investments in the boat: new rigging, haul- outs and bottom paint, new engine mounts, plus one-time costs such as transiting the Panama Canal. We saved a great deal of money by cruising on a sturdy older vessel: our 1981 sloop (loaded with many extras) cost C50,000 in 2006 and sold for the equivalent of C44,000 in 2014.

That’s us. You can compare the cruising costs of various crews on Bill Dietrich’s website. Just remember, it doesn’t have to cost a king’s ransom to cruise the Pacific – unless you want it to.

2. The second is a link to an article I wrote about working while cruising, including an interview with a scuba diver and an engine mechanic. It can be found here: Here, Kitty Kitty (Blue Water Sailing website)

I also have many other information articles about cruising as a family on my author website, here.

Nadine Slavinski
s/v Namani
www.nslavinski.com

• On this website:
Nadine SLAVINSKI Answers 12 Questions on Sailing as a Family

Diane Selkirk, S/V CEILYDH

Having enough money is pretty essential.

But as Tom figured out, knowing what counts as enough can be hard to gauge. I think it also depends on how comfortable you are with risk. When we hit Australia we were down to six months of money and didn’t have the guarantee Evan would get a job. Our worst case scenario was this would be the end of our cruise and we’d sell the boat in Australia. So I was comfortable with the risk.

My personal rule of thumb is I want enough money for a however long I want to cruise plus six months for resettling, plus a 5-15%-of-the boat’s-value maintenance/repair budget for each year we’re out. Short-term cruisers can often defer this maintenance–but once you’re out for more than two years, or cross an ocean, big ticket items need repair or replacement pretty regularly.

As far as how much money you need to live–this really varies too. There are families that manage basic expenses for $1000 a month and others who spend 5K. It depends on where you travel, if you stay in marinas, how much inland travel you do, schooling expenses etc…

As far as what you can earn with your skills–I’m not sure. It probably depends on where you plan to cruise and exactly what services you intend to offer. We know diesel mechanics, electricians and refrigeration technicians that manage to find steady work with in the cruising community. Most cruisers tend to be jack-of-all-trade types so you would probably need specific expertise to be hired.

Diane Selkirk
SV Ceilydh
maiaaboard.blogspot.com

• On this website:
The CEILYDH Family Answers 12 Questions about Sailing as a Family

Aimee Nance, S/V TERRAPIN

Hi Tom,

This is also the most pressing question we had before we set off to go cruising.

So far, we have found that the answer really depends on the cruisers themselves, rather than location or circumstance. We have seen families that get by on less than $2000 per month and families that seem to have unlimited budgets. It really comes down to what comforts are you willing to sacrifice for your cruising adventure. For example, we have found that marinas and restaurants are some of our biggest budget killers. Are you willing to anchor out 99% of the time? Do you plan to catch and eat your meals or are you the type that loves to eat out?

We budget about $2100 per month for everything and seem to get pretty close to that when we are in the water here in Mexico.

Also, do you plan to be on your boat the whole time? Right now, we are in San Miguel de Allende to wait out hurricane season. Many cruisers in the Sea of Cortez haul out in Guaymas/San Carlos to avoid the heat and hurricane danger of the upper sea. For us, this has been pretty expensive since we now have rent and substantial transportation expenses. However, there are a few boats that head up into the Sea and sweat it out and there is hardly a cheaper place to be.

We have also met cruisers who have had significant expenses for boat/ and or dinghy repairs. We have been lucky in this category so far (knock on wood), but having to rebuild a diesel engine on the move could obviously be a budget killer. This is something to take into consideration when boat shopping and also a reason to get a mechanical survey and rigging survey in addition to the general survey.

As far as working while cruising, there are certainly those who do it. You probably won’t make very much with your dive gear if you are talking about cleaning hulls. Most cruisers that anchor out do this themselves and you may tick off the locals if you try to do this in a marina.

There are certainly those that make money with a captain’s license. Scott from Windtraveler picked up some work in the Caribbean for a while. Also, if you can fix outboards or diesels, you will always be in high demand. I would caution you on this type of “working” only because some folks end up getting stuck in certain places for the sake of the job and for me, this is not what cruising is about. That being said, when we start running low on funds who knows what we will do to keep it going!

I hope this information is helpful to you. We post our “Cost to Cruise” every month in an effort to help those with questions like yours.

Good luck with your transition to the cruising life and hopefully we see you and your family out there one day! Best,

Aimee and Phil Nance
S/V Terrapin
www.sailingwithterrapin.com

• On this website:
The TERRAPIN Sailing Family Answers 12 Questions about Sailing as a Family

Links

• Here, Kitty Kitty, by Nadine Slavinski (Blue Water Sailing)
• Costs to cruise (Mexico, 2015), by Aimee Nance   (Sailing with Terrapin)
• The cruising kitty, by Brittany Stephen-Meyers (Windtraveler)
• Earning while cruising, by Brittany Stephen-Meyers (Windtraveler)
• The Cost of Cruising, by Livia Gilstrap (The Giddyup Plan)
• Cruising Expenses (Mexico, 2012-13), by Verena Kellner (Pacific Sailors)
• How do we earn money while sailing? Is going into the charter business a good option? (Women & Cruising)

In 2007, my husband Wayne and I traveled from Bayfield, Wisconsin, on Lake Superior to Punta Gorda, Florida, on our Island Packet 445 sailboat. We chose the long route, which took us through the Saint Lawrence Seaway and the Canadian Maritime provinces, a trip of about five thousand miles.

I had absolutely no intention of making the trip

…it was waaayy outside my comfort zone.

Wayne had often expressed his wish to take a long sailing trip. I once accompanied him on a trip of about one hundred miles and it caused me great anxiety, so a journey of five thousand miles was out of the question! Why? Fear. Fear of being on open water, fear of storms, fear of loneliness, fear of too much togetherness—but mostly just fear of the unknown. Besides, I’m a landlubber from Minnesota, which is about the farthest point from the coast of any state in the US. It seemed like such a radical idea.

Our purchase of a home in Punta Gorda in February 2004 gave Wayne a purpose and a destination for that long sailing trip. I agreed that we needed to get the boat down to Florida, but had my own ideas on how to get her there. My first choice: truck it down. My second choice: take it down the Mississippi. Wayne’s first choice: the East Coast by way of the Erie Canal and Hudson River; Wayne’s second choice: to the Gulf of Mexico by way of Chicago, the Mississippi, and the Tennessee-Tombigbee Waterway to Mobile, Alabama.

I wasn’t trying to squelch his dream. It’s just that Wayne wasn’t retired and I thought three or four months was far too long for him to be away from the business. It seemed to me that expedience was the wiser, albeit less adventurous, way to go.

Obviously, we needed to hash out a compromise. So how did our compromise result in a trip that was approximately fifteen hundred miles longer than the longest route we had considered? Furthermore, how did I end up making a trip I wanted little or no part of a few months earlier?

In the spring of 2006, Wayne had an unexpected opportunity to sell the business. Negotiations moved along quickly, and by the middle of the summer they had an agreement. With my blessing and encouragement, since he would now be retired, Wayne started making plans to sail the boat down the East Coast through the Erie Canal and Hudson River. I intended to meet up with him and do a week here or there, but mostly he would be accompanied by other friends and sailors, who were eagerly lining up for the trip.

Aboard LENA BEA - photographing whales

Both of the routes Wayne was considering would require taking down the mast and rigging to pass under low bridges and putting it all back up again. When he saw the scope of what would be involved with our sixty-three foot mast and fifteen hundred pounds of mast and stays, he began to have second thoughts. Stepping down the mast is done routinely for boats that make the trip (you can hire people to do it for you), but most masts are ten or more feet shorter and much lighter than ours.

There was one route, however, that didn’t require stepping down the mast: the Saint Lawrence River. It would have been Wayne’s first choice, but he hadn’t really considered it because it was so much longer than the Erie Canal/Hudson River route. After talking to other sailors and doing more research, Wayne began to see it as a more attractive option. He mentioned the possibility to me, and to his surprise—and mine—I was excited about taking the Saint Lawrence because it meant more wilderness to travel through and more adventure. The possibility of seeing whales hadn’t even crossed our minds at that point.

That’s all it took to get me on board.

Well, okay—that and a new boat, our Island Packet 445, Lena Bea.

So less than two months before departure, we finally chose our route and tacked fifteen hundred miles (and a First Mate) onto the voyage. We set sail from Bayfield on July 27.

First night out on Lake Superior

Fast forward one month to August 27. We are in anchored in a small town on the Saint Lawrence, Tadoussac, Québec, and traveling with Claus and Rachael, a couple from our marina whom we met up with in Québec City.

Wayne and I are sitting in the cockpit sipping our morning coffee, preparing to start our day. The rising sun glistens on the water and whales blow in the harbor. A lone seal swims by occasionally and glances at us warily without changing course. “We get to do this!” as Claus would say. And our adventure today raised the bar on “this” to an all new level.

I’ll try to skip all the superlatives, as they are trite and inadequate, and let the whale photos speak for themselves. The photos don’t do them justice either, because they don’t capture the essence, experience, and emotions of being there. We didn’t see any whales breaching and their bodies are mostly submerged, so it’s impossible to fully appreciate their massive size.

I did some research on whales in the Saint Lawrence and here are a few facts I gleaned: The blue whale is the largest animal known to have ever lived on Earth. They can grow up to one hundred feet long, weigh up to two hundred tons, and eat four tons or more of food per day! They are protected and endangered; the Saint Lawrence population is estimated at sixty to one hundred and the entire North Atlantic population is probably less than one thousand.

The beluga or white whale is also protected and endangered. Their numbers in the Saint Lawrence are estimated at around one thousand and declining due to environmental toxins.

See the beluga

Heading out into the bay this morning we observed the commercial whale watching boats, and when they stopped and congregated, we knew to look for whales if they had not already made their presence known to us. We watched blue whales surfacing and blowing, heard them breathing and moaning. Rachael and I stood in our bowsprits, cameras clicking wildly, while Wayne and Claus kept busy trying to aim the boats to where we pointed.

The blue whales had disappeared and we were sitting back, relishing the experience. All of a sudden the water surface seemed covered with whitecaps and my immediate thought was, Belugas. Then I laughed and thought to myself, Now I’m imagining that every little thing is a whale. Except they were belugas and we were surrounded by them . . . over one hundred for sure.

Rachael photographing belugas

They swam past the boat, swam up to the boat, swam under the boat, and I couldn’t shoot my camera fast enough. Wayne immediately put the engine in neutral, as we understood the protocol to be. We realized we were in a marine park sanctuary when the park patrol pulled up alongside of us and set us straight: If you find yourself in a pod of belugas while in the marine park, you are supposed to leave the area immediately and stay at least four hundred meters away (two hundred meters from blue whales). While the park rangers kindly educated Wayne about whale etiquette, I kept taking photos, including some of Kyanna with Rachael taking photos of the belugas.

We cruised alongside other species of whales too, including minke and fin whales (according to Claus, who knows more about them than we do, which is absolutely nothing). Were we afraid, knowing that some of these whales were possibly twice the length and ten times the weight of our boat? The awe we felt obliterated any possibility of fearfulness.

All day long the thought kept crossing my mind: this experience is beyond anything I had ever even dreamed of.

Dinner this evening with Claus and Rachael anchored off Île du Bic was a grand celebration. We bubbled with conversation about our shared experience, one of the most breathtaking of our lives. We had “show and tell,” reliving the day while sharing our photos, oohing and ahhing as over a pile of precious gems.

I am so grateful for the strength I was given to put aside my fear and step out of my comfort zone.

Many times since then I’ve thought back on that experience and many others we had, so grateful for the strength I was given to put aside my fear and step out of my comfort zone. I would have missed out on so much! It was a turning point and a major life lesson for me. Of course, I also acquired confidence and skills as a sailor, which has served us well in later cruising adventures.

This quote, which is attributed to Mark Twain, says it all: “Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.”

About Michele McClintock Sharp

Michele grew up in New Brighton, Minnesota, and raised two sons with her husband, Wayne. She calls herself a retired stay-at-home mom who also kept busy with volunteer work. Michele worked for a photography studio for a few years, mostly as a wedding photographer, and later did some freelance portrait work. She gave up professional photography when she realized she was losing the joy of taking pictures; Michele wanted to be able to photograph their children without it feeling like a job. She finds the most joy while photographing nature.

In 1998, Wayne bought Wind Dancer, a 1995 Island Packet 37. He kept her docked at Port Superior Marina in Bayfield, Wisconsin, and sailed her in the Apostle Islands. With two teenagers at home who had better things to do than go sailing with their parents, Michele joined him only occasionally. The couple bought Lena Bea, an Island Packet 445, in 2006 and have enjoyed many great times and adventures on board.

Wayne and Michele live in Punta Gorda, Florida, for most of the year, and spend their summers close to family in Plymouth, Minnesota.

They have written a book based on the blog from their first journey in 2007 – Adventures of a Once Reluctant Sailor: A Journey of Guts, Growth, and Grace. It is available online from their website, and from Copperfish Books, Amazon, and Barnes and Noble.

See also:

• www.reluctantsailor.net
• www.facebook.com/ReluctantSailor

More on this website

• Chance encounters between ships and whales, by Daria Blackwell: Part 1 and Part 2

As I prepare for a brief 4-day jaunt to Biscayne Bay with my ketch Annie Laurie, a trip I’ve been planning for weeks, I realize it’s been close to 3 years since I’ve taken the boat out sailing on my own.  I’ve decided it’s high time to try again, to remind myself that as much as I love sailing with others, there’s something to be said for the feeling of accomplishment that comes with doing it on your own.

I’ve always been one to be overly prepared when setting out alone, and this time has been no different. I’ve double and triple checked all the engine essentials and spares. I’ve carefully stowed everything below, checked the entire rig, top to bottom; shackles, blocks, lines… I have everything set and ready to go, so upon arriving at the bottom of the Miami River, I should be prepared to quickly and easily set sail on my own.

So, it’s 10:30 AM, and I’m finally ready to set out.

Wait, just let me put those books away.  Oh, and the anchor that’s lying loose on the deck. And the A/C unit. No use in carting that out to sea, without having the power to run it while I’m out there.

Ok, now I’m ready.  Oh wait, the boat on the outside dock is spidered-in for hurricane season. I’ll have to move a few of his lines if I want out. Hmmm.

Just a little bit of uncertainty is a powerful thing, especially when you’re already harboring a few doubts, even if they’re only minor.

Severe thunderstorm over Miami

It’s windy. Gusting to 25 knots at times, from the direction I need to go. Fifty percent chance of severe thunderstorms in the area, though I’m not seeing any indication on the current radar.  I’ve planned this for so long… am I just making excuses now? Or is my intuition rightly guiding me, ensuring my safety, until a more pleasurable weather window opens up?

I cant help but be hard on myself for the increased anxiety I feel building, to sail a mere 5 miles to No Name Harbor, a place I’ve been a dozen of times before.  It’s child’s play compared to the places I’ve taken Annie Laurie in the past.

It was just 4 years ago that I was thoroughly enjoying sailing throughout the Bahamas alone, aside from my cat Effie.  Sure, there were a few hairy moments, but in general, I didn’t think twice before hauling my anchor and getting underway to another new anchorage.  It was just what I did, it was a way of being, and while uncertainty was inherent with sailing to new places, it was rarely something I feared.

ANNIE LAURIE at anchor, No Name Harbor

Is it just a matter of pushing through the fear I feel today? Will I feel any less anxious on another sunny, 10-knot day? Is it the wind, the tight navigation getting out of the marina, the thunderstorms, and my never-ending engine concerns (rational or not) that is the root of my fear? Or have I simply softened, and am fearful of being out there alone again, with only myself to rely on?

As the clock approaches 4:00 PM, I realize that those questions likely won’t be answered today.  So I decide my plan of action (or inaction) must be patience. Another day, another set of weather circumstances, and perhaps words of encouragement from an as-of-yet unknown source, and maybe I’ll find that place inside myself, that I know couldn’t have disappeared completely in the last 3 years, that will have me leaving the dock full of excitement, and not trepidation.

To be continued.

About Laura McCrossin

Laura was born and raised in Halifax, Nova Scotia, and began her sailing career on tall ships in 2001.

For the last 7 years, she has been the proud owner of Annie Laurie, and has sailed her from Canada to Cuba, Mexico, the Bahamas, and many ports in between.

She is the author of Written in Water: An Uncharted Life Aboard a Wooden Boat, available through visiting her website www.scotiansailor.com

More on this website

• On my own, but never alone, by Laura Mc Crossin
• Fighting Fears
  In this series experienced cruising women expose common fears that have nagged them and share ways they’ve found to keep fears from getting in their way.

This is the second half of a 2-part article by Daria Blackwell,
first published in the Ocean Cruising Club publication Flying Fish.
You can read part 1 here.

Photo: James Dagmore

Bizarre whale tales

Who can forget the photos of the 40 ton southern right whale (Eubalaena australis) that breached onto a 33ft sloop in South Africa in 2010, breaking the mast before sliding into the water with an ‘eerie groan’? Amazingly, Ralph Mothes and Paloma Werner were not injured and returned to harbour on their own, and a nearby vessel managed to record the whole incident on video.

YouTube video: Whale Crashes on Boat – Published by CBSNewsOnline.

It seems this was simply a case of being in the wrong place when a whale came up for air.

There are several additional videos on YouTube that show whales ramming boats or breaching onto them. So it does happen.

In 2011, a breaching humpback whale off southwest Washington smashed the mast and rigging of a 38ft yacht taking part in the Oregon Offshore International Yacht Race to Victoria, BC ‘leaving bits of blubber behind’, as Ryan Barnes told the Coast Guard. Ironically, the boat was called L’Orca. Her crew were in the cockpit and were not injured during the encounter.

YouTube video: Oregon Offshore 2011- Whale vs. Boat!

YouTube video: Sailboat struck by breaching whale near Astoria

In June 2012, Max Young of Sacramento, California, on the last leg of a circumnavigation, had to be rescued after a breaching whale struck his 50ft yacht 40 miles off the coast of Mexico just after dark. He was only about ten feet from the 55ft whale as it jumped about twelve feet in the air and came down on the bow of boat, lifting the stern clear of the water. The collision disabled the steering system and holed the boat, but he used a mattress to plug a hole, and four bilge pumps to bail water, while waiting to be rescued 5.

CruisersForum – www.cruisersforum.com – has a report of a man who left harbour in his new 27ft Bayliner just before sunset with two friends. They were off Santa Barbara Point ‘when a 30ft grey whale suddenly breached and landed on top of the boat. The weight of the whale crushed the cabin before it rolled off the boat back into the water… the beast came around and took another run at the Bayliner and slammed the boat with its tail’. This damaged the boat’s rail and broke one of the owner’s ribs, cut his hand, and embedded barnacles in his back. The whale made a third run at the boat, but just rolled one of its eyes out of the water and stared at them.

Then there’s the truly bizarre story from Australia of a humpback whale that grabbed a yacht’s anchor rode and swam off, towing the boat 1½ miles out to sea at night. It was joined by a second whale that helped along the way. The woman onboard managed to get a video of the encounter before they cut away the rode. The couple had called the Coast Guard and others for assistance but were not taken seriously.

Published studies of collisions

In 2001, researchers from the US and Europe conducted the first survey of reports of collisions between ships and whales (See Laist, DW, et al, Collisions between ships and whales. MARINE MAMMAL SCIENCE, 17(1): 35-75 (January 2001).)

They focused on motorised vessels, as collision reports first started appearing in the 1800s with the advent of steam power. They found that collisions increased as vessel speed increased.

A humpback whale lands in the water after breaching near Auke Bay, Alaska. Photo Aleria Jensen, Public domain NOAA/NMFS/AKFSC. NOAA Photo Library anim1037

Of eleven species known to be hit by ships, they reported that fin whales are struck most frequently and right whales, humpback whales, sperm whales and grey whales (Eschrichtius robustus) are hit commonly. The most lethal or severe injuries are caused by ships travelling at 14 knots or more, which eliminates many cruising yachts. Today, collisions occur most often with high speed ferries and racing yachts.

Since then other reports have been filed, including the 2009 report of an ExxonMobile tanker returning to port with a humpback whale draped over its bulbous bow. In Alaska, in 2010, an adult female humpback was found on the bow of a cruise ship owned by Princess Cruises – the third whale incident involving the company since 2001. Bizarrely, this same ship had had a similar encounter with a fin whale the year before outside Vancouver. Speed and visibility were considered factors in these events.

In 2011 Fabian Ritter, collaborating with noonsite.com, published a study which constitutes the first attempt to quantitatively assess collisions involving sailing vessels and whales on a global scale (Fabian Ritter. Collisions and near miss events between sailing vessels and cetaceans – MEER eV, Bundesallee 123, 12161 Berlin, Germany.)

A total of 108 collisions and 57 ‘near misses’ were identified between 1966 and 2010, the majority of which (75%) were reported between 2002 and 2010. He concluded that elevated vessel speed contributes to a higher risk of collisions, although it doesn’t correlate with likelihood of damage or injuries where other factors can prevail.

Ritter recommended three courses of action to protect ships and whales:

1. speed reduction,
2. dedicated observers, and
3. the shift of routes.

He also recommended publicising the International Whaling Commission (IWC) Ship Strike Data Base and encouraging sailors to report their encounters so the data can be collected and analysed.

In other studies, sound has been used to try to deter whales from crossing paths with boats. In one, it was documented that harmonics may actually attract rather than deter whales. So running your engine may not be a good way to ward them off.

In the Oyster magazine, Pantaenius Insurance reported research they carried out following the loss of a Formula 40 catamaran after it hit a dormant whale in 1991.

The advice their experts offered was for yachts to keep their depth sounders on during ocean passages, as a whale can hear the pulse emitted by the transducer.

What can you do?

Minimising risk of collision with whales is a goal of the International Maritime Organization (IMO). They are planning detailed guidance for all segments of the maritime industry, including cruising and racing yachts. In advance of the guidance, the Belgian Department of the Environment has released an information leaflet which includes advice about how to reduce the risk of collisions with whales and provides a link to the ship strikes database developed by the International Whaling Commission (IWC).

Their advice includes the following points:

• Plan passages to avoid high density areas
• Keep a close watch, reduce speed, and alter course for direct avoidance
• Report incidents to help improve knowledge
• Heed restrictions and seek advice from the IMO and national authorities
• Contribute to scientific research by reporting sightings and encounters

The IWC database contains 1076 collisions reported between 1877 and 2010. It includes the type of whale and the location of collision, though the IWC is quick to note that these reports are, for the most part, uncorroborated.

A humpback whale breaching near the Alaska Maritime National Wildlife Refuge. Photo Wanetta Ayers. Released into the public domain on Wikimedia Commons

The majority of whale fatalities occur off the East Coast of North America and in the Mediterranean. This is hardly surprising, as that is where shipping is most congested and where whales migrate. A recent study by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), however, has shown that whale populations are on the increase in California waters, adding to the risk of encounters. Multiple species of whale feed along the coast, including killer, grey, humpbacks and blue (Balaenoptera musculus – the world’s largest animal). NOAA has issued advisories to shipping to reduce speed along the migration paths.

What happens to the vessels involved in collisions with whales seems, in comparison, mild. Few ships have been reported holed, disabled or sunk. It has happened, but it seems – at least from our experience – that the benefits to cruising sailors of being out there outweigh the risks of collision – at least with whales.

Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street and methodically knocking people’s hats off – then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.

Herman Melville

About Daria Blackwell

Daria Blackwell is a USCG licensed Captain. She and her husband Alex, and cruising kitty Onyx, have crossed the Atlantic three times in three years aboard their Bowman 57 ketch Aleria, spending years cruising the Caribbean and Atlantic islands as well as the American and European coasts. They are now in Ireland planning their next adventure.

Daria is a proud member of the Ocean Cruising Club Committee, Seven Seas Cruising Association (cruising station for Ireland), American Yacht Club and Mayo Sailing Club.

The Blackwells are co-authors of Happy Hooking – The Art of Anchoringwhich has received excellent reviews in the sailing press. They periodically conduct their Happy Hooking webinar for Seven Seas University.

Their website is www.CoastalBoating.net, “the boaters’ resource for places to go and things to know”.

Further readings

• John S. Marshall: Calif. man tells of sailboat collision with whale
• Laist, DW, et al, Collisions between ships and whales. MARINE MAMMAL SCIENCE, 17(1): 35-75 (January 2001)
• Fabian Ritter. Collisions and near miss events between sailing vessels and cetaceans – MEER eV, Bundesallee 123, 12161 Berlin, Germany
• International Whaling Commission (IWC) Ship Strike Data Base
• NOAA (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration)- National Marine Sanctuaries: Reducing Ship Strike Risk to Whales
• Belgian Department of the Environment: Reducing risk of collisions with whales (PDF)

Also on this website

• Chance encounters between ships and whales – Part 1
• All posts about Nature
• More posts by Daria Blackwell:
  - Dancing in the Harbour
  - What I like best about cruising? Passages and anchorages: a world of your own

A fin whale preparing to dive beneath ALERIA’s bow. Photo Alex Blackwell.

Most sailors setting off on a passage dream of encountering wildlife at sea.

Yet ask blue water sailors about their biggest fears, and near the top of the list is likely to be ‘striking a whale’. It’s one of the events most likely to be catastrophic at sea. Today, we can usually avoid really bad weather, but can we avoid a sleeping whale at night?

And what is the likelihood of a chance encounter with a whale? It may not be as rare (or as common) as one might think, depending on location. The likelihood appears to be increasing as protected whale species increase in numbers, and like many cruisers Alex and I have had a few very happy encounters.

Fortunately, several lessons can be applied to reduce the risk and enhance the experience.

Magic at sea – the friendly encounter

First encounter with whales

Whale spy hopping on Stellwagon Bank.

Our first encounter with whales came while crossing Stellwagen Bank, a vast marine sanctuary off Cape Cod. We came upon a pod of northern right whales (Eubalaena glacialis), which started us off with a magical experience that would be difficult to top. We first sighted a mother and calf feeding near tour boats – she was ignoring the humans intruding on her brunch.

About an hour later we noted a rock where there should have been deep water.

After frantically checking the charts and keeping a close eye through  binoculars, we realised it was a whale with callosities, spy hopping and being  groomed by a flock of birds. Then the whale rolled and dived to show off his  fluke.

Soon afterwards a second whale appeared, much closer, then two more, and five more, until we were surrounded by scores of these leviathans.

As they came closer to get a better look at  us with those all-knowing eyes, our first thoughts drifted to the infamous line from Jaws, “we’re gonna need a bigger boat”. They were  about the same length as Aleria.

As soon as we realised they were just curious and respectful we  ghosted along beside them as we checked each other out. We were under full sail  in light winds with no engines running, and worried about them surfacing beneath  us after their dives. We kept a close watch, steered cautiously away from any ahead  of us, and avoided coming between mothers and their calves.

Whereas the experience was initially silent, suddenly the air filled with whale song. Not just one but a cacophony of voices, which seemed to be amplified by Aleria’s hull acting like a stethoscope. There were  long wails, short burps, moans, groans, and high pitched squeals of varied  duration and emphasis. We were taken aback, perplexed. We looked at each other to  make sure we were both hearing this. It sounded surreal. Then, we succumbed to the sheer joy of it. We sang back, jumping up and down, cheering and clapping like children. I don’t recall ever having had such a joyous experience in my  life. We were speaking whale! All fear was gone, replaced with sheer wonder. It  seemed to go on forever.

Then, suddenly, they were gone. The whale song receded and the whales disappeared from view. We mourned their passing but  felt blessed to have met them. Alex described the experience as ‘prehistoric,  otherworldly’. We had been so dumbfounded that we forgot to take pictures. We  have only a few that Alex took as he sighted that first ‘rock’.

Occasional glimpses

As we left Nova Scotia to cross the Atlantic  to Ireland, we were followed out of St Margaret’s Bay by a lone killer whale (Orcinus orca). She swam along peacefully and we wondered if her reputation was deserved.  We didn’t see any more whales all the way to Ireland, but we sailed through thick fog followed by six gales. We know now that whales are sighted more often on calm,  clear days – if the surface of the sea is smooth, you’ll spot an unusual disturbance more readily.

We were next rewarded with a visit by a pod  of pilot whales (Globicephala macrorhynchus) while in transit from Tenerife to La Gomera in the Canary Islands. They are known to be resident there, so we kept a close watch.  Not much bigger than dolphins but black in colour, the pilot whales swam gently along  in company for some time.

A pilot whale off La Gomera in the Canary IslandsPhoto Martina Nolte / Lizenz Creative Commons CC-by-sa-3.0 de

During six months of cruising the Caribbean, where whales come to calve, we saw only one, breaching off the west coast of Antigua. From the shape and acrobatics it appeared to be a humpback (Megaptera  novaeangliae). In  certain islands, the Grenadines for example, fishermen are permitted to take  their annual quota of whale meat in the traditional way, and as we passed St  Vincent we saw a boat with a bow-mounted harpoon coming in with a cetacean strapped to  the side of the hull.

Whales galore

Crossing the Atlantic from the Caribbean to  the Azores, we encountered very light wind conditions. In fact, the Azores high overtook us until we were smack in the middle. It was on this leg that we learned the value of a flat sea for whale sightings and learned just how many of these creatures are en route through the area at any given time. No wonder the Azores were so prominent  on the whaling scene. Plentiful food, good weather – what’s not to like?

We had numerous sightings on one day – sperm  whales (Physeter catodon) and fin whales (Balaenoptera physalus), mothers with calves, juveniles and  elderly, in the distance and REALLY close by. In fact, one pod swam along in our bow wave like dolphins, except they were 60ft long fin  whales. They dove underneath and we wondered where they’d come back up. They  blew air which carried the scent of bountiful fisheries right beside us and  stared at us with those penetrating gazes. It happened to be my birthday – one I will never forget!

In all these encounters, we have never truly felt threatened – concerned about proximity, but not threatened. We rarely use the engine even in very light air, and we always keep a close watch. We are  respectful of the distance between us. We are respectful of their environment. We are  respectful of their intelligence and their place on this oceanic earth. I think they knew all  that.

Collisions between ships and whales

Struck by a whale off Grand Banks

The first time I heard about a sailing boat ‘encountering’ a whale mid-ocean was when a yacht, the 49ft  sloop Peningo, collided with a whale about 700 miles from the Azores while en  route from the US to the America’s Cup Jubilee in England in 2001.

The skipper wrote  about their ordeal afterwards, providing insight into the experience1. Although the story is entitled Struck by a Whale, from his description of the encounter it is more  likely that it was the vessel that struck the whale. The whale was severely injured and the yacht was rendered helpless with serious rudder damage. Luckily for those  aboard, the yacht remained afloat with no major water intrusion until a rescue ship  arrived to tow them back to Newfoundland.

The whale probably didn’t do so well.

The sinking of the Essex

This illustration from the Russel Purrington Panorama – a series of paintings intended to describe the workings of the whale fishery – shows the attack of the whale on the Essex

A most famous encounter is that of the  Nantucket whaling ship Essex, which was sunk by a sperm whale in the South Pacific2 in 1820. Herman Melville’s novel Moby Dickis based on this true story, told by the few  crew who survived. The whale struck the Essex with its head just behind the bow while the light boats were out hunting.

‘The ship brought up as suddenly and  violently as if she had struck a rock,’ recalled Owen Chase, the first mate. The whale had smashed through the bulkhead and water was streaming in. Chase set the crew to work  on the pumps and signalled the other boats to return immediately.

The whale,  meanwhile, was apparently badly injured and was leaping and twisting in convulsions  some distance away. Then suddenly the animal raced toward the ship again, its head  high above the water like a battering ram.

It stove in the port side of the ship and the Essex sank, leaving the crew thousands of miles from land in three light boats. (See Nathaniel Philbrick: In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex Penguin, 2001.)

In a scientific paper on whale behaviour by Carrier published in 2002, the authors note, ‘Head-butting during aggressive behaviour is common and widespread among cetaceans, suggesting that it may be a basal behaviour for the group. Although data is not available for most species, head-butting has been observed in species in each of the four major cetacean lineages’. They put forth a hypothesis that the spermaceti organ has evolved in whales as a weapon used in male-to-male  aggression and was used as a battering ram capable of sinking the Essex. (See Carrier, DR et al: The face that sank the Essex: potential function of the spermaceti organ in aggression. J Exp Biol 205: 1755-1763, 2002.)

Even without this, the sperm whale is the  largest-toothed animal alive today with some growing to more than 60ft in length and weighing 50 tons.

A mother sperm whale and her calf dive together near the Azores. Photo: Daria Blackwell

Whale attack! Yachts colliding with whales

During a passage from the Canaries to the  Caribbean we heard one of the boats in our SSB net report an attack by a whale.

She was a vessel in the 35ft range, heading back to Boston from Europe with two people  aboard. While under sail in light wind they sighted several whales, one of which  turned towards their boat and rammed it head on. It circled, and came back at them  repeatedly. They were terrified that the whale was going to keep battering until they were holed and sunk, then suddenly it swam away. They had the presence of mind to  take photos and were able to identify it as a false killer whale (Pseudorca crassidens). The net controller  asked what colour their hull was, as a crew member suggested  that whales tend to attack boats with red bottoms. Interestingly, they had just had their bottom repainted – and the colour they had chosen was red. Aleria’s bottom is green and her hull is white.

There are multiple reports of yachts colliding with whales, including two in the 1970s when British yachts were lost.

• Maurice and Maralyn Bailey were on their way from Panama to the Galapagos Islands when, at dawn  on 4 March 1973, their 31ft Auralyn was struck by a whale and holed. The Baileys  survived for 117 days and drifted 1500 miles on an inflatable liferaft before being rescued. They wrote an account of their ordeal entitled 117 Days Adrift(Staying Alive! in the US).

• Dougal Robertson left England in 1971 aboard Lucette, a 43ft wooden schooner, with his wife and four children. On 15 June 1972 Lucette was holed by a pod of killer whales and sank approximately 200 miles west  of the Galapagos Islands. The six people on board took to an inflatable liferaft and a solid hull dinghy, which they used as a tow-boat with a jury-rigged sail. They were rescued after 38 days by a fishing trawler.

Robertson wrote two books, Survive the Savage Seaand Sea Survival: A Manual.

• More recently there’s the 1989 account of a  pod of pilot whales sinking the yacht Siboney, after which owners Bill and Simone Butler awaited rescue in a liferaft. He documented their story in the book, 66 Days Adrift: A True Story of Disaster and Survival on the Open Sea.

• In October 2011 Yachting Monthly reported on a boat which had been attacked by a whale mid-ocean in the mid 1990s. The animal made three glancing blows before swimming away, and scientists whom the author spoke to afterwards suggested that she must have had a calf and was chasing them  off. They did not report the colour of their bottom paint, but noted that sections of  paint had been scraped clean in the collision. The vessel, an Oyster Lightwave, did not suffer any significant damage.

• Anecdotal reports on blogs include one by Paul J who reported being attacked by what may have been a sperm whale about 150 miles off the Great Barrier Reef. He posted a photo (right) on ybw.com of the bottom of his steel boat dented by the whale’s head – the bottom of his boat was painted red.

In the same thread, two other cruisers noted encounters with pilot whales around their redbottomed boats, but no attacks.

Can whales see colour?

It has long been advised not to paint a boat’s bottom white because it looks like the belly of a killer whale. Other people advise not to paint it black, grey or blue because it might appear to be a competing whale or a  predator. Then the red question came about.

Yet scientists have long professed that  whales cannot see colour as they do not have the short wavelength cones in their eyes. That to me is short sighted (excuse the pun) as it assumes the human way is the only way to see colour. A study published in 2002 by Griebel suggests that cetaceans do indeed discern  colour, but in a different way than we do (See Griebel, U, Color vision in marine mammals. A review. Bright, M,Dworschak, PC, and Stachowitsch, M (Eds.) 2002: The Vienna School of Marine Biology: A Tribute to Jörg Ott. Facultas Universitätsverlag, Wien: 73-87.)

So it is possible that colour does make a difference to whales – we just don’t know for sure.

Speed is a factor

One certain trend is that more collisions are  being recorded as boats get faster (especially racing boats). A British sailing journalist’s blog looked back at some of the better-known collisions with whales, and  we have now added to the list. There are four reports of collisions during the  OSTAR (one in 1964, two in 1988 and one in 1996) the latter including one with Ellen  MacArthur’s Kingfisher in which the whale was killed and found wrapped around the  vessel’s keel. David Selling’s Hyccup sank as a result of a collision in 1988.

There were two reports during Whitbread Round the World Races, in 1989 and 1998; of  the second, Knut Frostad said, ‘It was like being in a car crash’. Delta Lloyd and Ericsson 3 both hit whales during the 2008/09 Volvo Ocean Race, with minor damage.

There were four other reports during races between 2001 and 2005 in which  boats were damaged, with rudders being particularly vulnerable.

That’s a total of twelve high-profile  collisions reported since the 1960s, but only one vessel (Hyccup) was catastrophically damaged.

And in the  2011/12 Volvo Ocean Race, Camper’s helmsman Roberto Bermudez managed to avoid  collision with a whale on Leg 7 from Miami to Lisbon –  all caught on amazing video footage

YouTube video: CAMPER Avoids Whale Collision – Volvo Ocean Race 2011-12

Next:
Part 2 of this article is here. 

About Daria Blackwell

Daria Blackwell is a USCG licensed Captain. She and her husband Alex, and cruising kitty Onyx, have crossed the Atlantic three times in three years aboard their Bowman 57 ketch Aleria, spending years cruising the Caribbean and Atlantic islands as well as the American and European coasts. They are now in Ireland planning their next adventure.

Daria is a proud member of the Ocean Cruising Club Committee, Seven Seas Cruising Association (cruising station for Ireland), American Yacht Club and Mayo Sailing Club.

The Blackwells are co-authors of Happy Hooking – The Art of Anchoringwhich has received excellent reviews in the sailing press. They periodically conduct their Happy Hooking webinar for Seven Seas University.

Their website is www.CoastalBoating.net, “the boaters’ resource for places to go and things to know”.

Further readings

• Dod A Fraser: Struck by a whale off Grand Banks
• Wikipedia: Essex (whaleship)
• Herman Melville: Moby Dick
• Nathaniel Philbrick: In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex Penguin, 2001
• Carrier, DR et al: The face that sank the Essex: potential function of the spermaceti organ in aggression. J Exp Biol 205: 1755-1763, 2002
• Maurice and Maralyn Bailey: 117 Days Adrift
• Dougal Robertson: Survive the Savage Sea& Sea Survival: A Manual
• Bill Butler: 66 Days Adrift: A True Story of Disaster and Survival on the Open Sea
• Yachting Monthly, October 2011: Whale attack! When a 6-ton boat met 12 tonnes of blubber
• ybw. com forum thread: Pilot whale attacks
• Griebel, U, Color vision in marine mammals. A review.Bright, M,Dworschak, PC, and Stachowitsch, M (Eds.) 2002: The Vienna School of Marine Biology: A Tribute to Jörg Ott. Facultas Universitätsverlag, Wien: 73-87.
• YachtingMonthly.com: Whale collisions a perennial risk, by Elaine Bunting

Also on this website

• Chance encounters between ships and whales – Part 2
• All posts about Nature
• More posts by Daria Blackwell:
  - Dancing in the Harbour
  - What I like best about cruising? Passages and anchorages: a world of your own

One of the things I want to ask other women about is going up the mast.I feel silly about it because twenty years ago I was adventurous and really liked heights and was into rock climbing! But over the past few years I have become fearful of heights and no matter how much I tell myself that I am being ridiculous and that it’s totally safe and that I normally love this stuff, my body freaks out. I shake and lose control and get dizzy and disorientated. I feel like an idiot! I am an artist and I have nearly fallen off of ladders working on murals. It’s getting quite annoying and I don’t know why my body reacts this way when my mind it telling me it’s all fine… Of course I am concerned I will have to go up the mast at some point -I tried once and froze and it was humiliating. Right now our boat is on land and it scares me to go up the ladder and I practically crawl to the cockpit to stay away from the edge! It’s absurd but my body is simply not responding to my mind! How do people deal with this? How about when the boat is underway? Should I talk to a psychologist about this? I am reluctant to even call it a “fear of heights” because I can get on the roof of my house to sweep the chimney without a problem. I have been wondering about this and how other women deal with it… Thank you for listening! Sherri

Gwen Hamlin answers.

Interestingly, nobody has brought this up before. However, I can empathize.

I was never afraid of heights as a young person, but after a height related injury (too long a story!), my brain reprogrammed itself. Interesting how the mind/body does that.

The issue first revealed itself when hiking with my sister and her kids. First a rock made me anxious. Then, of all things, a fire tower. My knees went weak every time one of the kids stepped near the rail. This has carried on through the years. I can be in a high apartment  tower, but I’m not happy on their terrace. I can hike, until things get too narrow. I get anxious about my balance in almost any precarious situation.

But oddly enough, going up the mast hasn’t bothered me. I thought for sure it would. And we have a tall mast! For the early years, I always took someone else up on Whisper (my boat), and on Tackless II I took Don up.  I’m not quite sure when or why we changed!  For sure, though, don’t task load yourself.  Start slowly, perhaps just as far as the spreaders, and be sure you are doing so at the dock and in settled conditions.  Once your brain accepts that you are secure up there, I believe your nerves will settle.

We have the stout kind of bosun’s chair, with a rigid insert for a seat, and fabric that wraps around three sides with a stout webbing buckle snapping me in. I always insist on running the halyard end through the two rings and tying a bowline and then closing the shackle around the line to boot. Quite simply, I can’t fall out.  Once the mind believes that, things get easier. Then we used the rope gipsy of our horizontal windlass to take us up. Up was always easy, with three wraps on the drum. Down was trickier, taking one turn off so the line would slide without wrapping.

Go up slowly. When Don took me up with the windlass, the hard part was dodging my way around the standing backstays and upper intermediates. But for some reason, secure in that bosun chair, I never felt precarious…and I would go to the tip top or swing out to work on the spreaders.

Sometimes the halyard didn’t seem to slide smoothly when I took Don up…or more to the point, when I tried to bring him down. That caused me some anxiety for him.  When I worried about it, I would send up a backup halyard controlled from the mainsail winch. This made the whole deal a bit complicated, I admit.

Neither of us has gone up at sea. Because we didn’t want ever to have to do that, we rigged the boat with two forward halyards and two aft — the genoa halyard and spinnaker halyard going forward and the main and topping lift going back. Our theory was they could be interchanged in a tight spot. We were always particularly careful not to let loose of the halyards!

As for dealing with climbing ladders and being on the boat on the hard, I too found it discomfitting.  Not just is there the height above the hard, hard ground, but there is the unsettling fact that the boat isn’t moving the way your brain expects it to!  People (guys!) who have no issues with height often just prop a ladder anywhere and are good to go.

For me, I insisted on the ladder being placed 1) as near as possible to a regular gate, and or 2) within hand’s reach of the shroud or backstay.  In other words, on the hard is no place to give up the maxim, “one hand for you and one for the boat!”  I had no problem stepping around the gate onto the cap rail (ours was a flat wood cap rail, not a perforated one) as long as I was able to have a firm hold of something with my hands.

Then make sure the ladder is tied in place.  Not only does this make sure there is no flipping backwards…but it ensures a yard neighbor doesn’t help himself to your ladder!  Don and I got stuck aboard one night when a security guard, not knowing anyone was aboard, lowered the ladder to deter thievery.

Some other tips:  Wear shoes up and down the ladder for a better foothold; take shoes off at the top and leave them on a mat.  Try to avoid climbing with gear in your hands;  use a hoist line and a bucket or basket to get stuff up.  At night, use a bucket as a temporary bathroom whenever possible to avoid climbing down a ladders in the dark. (We sat ours right in one of our heads so that was easier psychologically.)

Finally, if you remain seriously uncomfortable on deck on the hard, for God’s sake, don’t walk around the deck with anything but the regular lifelines in place.  It is actually probably better to have no lifelines at all than to string a line and think it will serve as a substitute.  I found that lurching onto a line that doesn’t respond as I expect it to a very unnerving and dangerous sensation.

Hope this is helpful. We are each individual!

Gwen

If you have a question about going cruising that you want answered,

- email it to: kathy@forcruisers.com,

- or join the next Women and Cruising webinar!

Predeparture worries (cont.)

Handling medical issues

• Jack and Marcia Spiess had owned their 44-foot cutter Tracen J for four years before they set sail. They had been cruising off and on since 1988, but this was their first foray across oceans.

“Handling medical issues, heart attack, fractures, and major injuries. That is what concerned me,” said Marcia. But Marcia and her crew, like all of those with whom we spoke, had not had any serious medical troubles.

None had heard of any other voyagers mentioning problems other than two cases of tropical infections caused by cuts that were not treated properly.

• Marilyn Middleton, who cruises with her husband, Glen, and son, Jaryd, on Tin Soldier, a 50-foot steel boat, said health problems at sea had been her worry, too.

Tin Soldier’s medical supplies were rarely used until they reached Neiafu in the Vava’u Islands of Tonga, where Glen decided to join friends on a racing boat for one of the Friday night races organized by a local restaurant owner.

During the race, the boat gybed and the traveler block, which runs on a track across the middle of the cockpit, hit Glen, throwing him against a winch. A broken nose, blackened eyes, and several stitches were much in evidence as we all discussed how much safer ocean voyaging seems to be than living on shore or racing under sail.

Seasickness

• Linda Levy, with her partner Michael Gilbert, left from Florida on board B’Sheret, a 37-foot Najad sloop they bought at the Annapolis Boat Show. Linda listed seasickness right after nasty weather and pirates as a worry that was now relegated to a more comfortable place in her mind. “I was lucky,” Linda said. “I heard all the horror stories but I never got further than anxiety nausea.”

• Interestingly, when I asked others about seasickness, about 60 percent of the interviewees had found they either felt fine or suffered only for a few hours during the first day or two of a passage. The other 40 percent (me included) had found ways to control or cope with seasickness.

Although we met several people in Apia and Tonga who were planning to end their cruises sooner than planned, not one of them said it was because of seasickness.

Running out of food

Market scene in Western Samoa

• The crew of both Tracen J and Argonaut listed “running out of food” as something they worried about before they set off.

• But when I look over the answers to the next question we asked, “What did you put on board that was not used?” I realize that this was an almost universal concern. Many lists included comments about carrying too much basic food.

Marcia Spiess stated, “I overprovisioned. All of it took up too much needed space and we ended up giving much of it away. We found that basics, such as flour, rice, etc., were usually available, even in the smallest island shops. Same with meats, fruits, and vegetables. Maybe they were not what we were used to, but it was fun to enjoy the local items.”

• On the other hand, two couples wished they had carried more “comfort foods”—things that would be easy to grab for a snack, specialty items to make real at-home-feeling meals, favorite cookies or dried fruits for nibbling on night watches. These definitely are hard to find or very expensive once you sail far from home.

• Linda Levy from B’Sheret said, “Yes, we overprovisioned, but even without a freezer we were able to eat quick meals from a can and have hot soup all the way to New Zealand. That made me happy when the seas were not happy and all I had to do was open a can, throw it in a pot, heat and eat.”

Most favored gear on board

• Eight out of 10 couples listed their windvane self-steering as the “most favored gear on board.”
• The other two listed their autopilots.
• Six listed their watermaker.

When there was any discussion between husband and wife as to whether the self-steering gear or the watermaker was most important, the answer seemed to split clearly along gender lines, with women strongly in favor of the watermaker.

Best memory

The most enjoyable part of each interview was asking, “What is your very best memory so far?” The answers proved to us that even though there are a lot more folks out here than when we set off 42 years ago, cruising is still a grand adventure.

• Tom Collins and Colleen Wilson, who sailed on 8-ton Mokisha, a handsome 1980s-style S&S 38 built by Catalina Yachts (see fig. 18.1), said, “Nothing compared with the awe of being out at sea, far from land, on a starry night.”

• Linda and Steve on Linda repeated this sentiment, adding, “Catching mahimahi! And we loved Penrhyn Island. It was just about a hundred miles off the normal route, yet we were the only cruisers there and we were shown a wonderful time by the island folks.”

• The Middleton family spoke of spending time at one of the isolated atolls of the Tuamotus and staying with a Polynesian family for a week “There were only two families on the atoll, yet there was a church. The three of us made the Sunday congregation 30 percent larger than normal.”

Marilyn and Glenn Middleton with their son Jared wanted to get to know more about the real Tonga. They invited a woman who befriended them at the market place to come out for a Sunday sail. Big Mary arrived with 8 children plus husband. (Marilyn and Jared are wearing the orange T shirts in this photo). This was the beginning of an amazing friendship.

• “The Pacific Arts Festival,” stated Jack and Marcia Spiess, “It was in American Samoa—only happens once every four years and 27 island nations sent their dancers and singers for 10 days of performances.”

•  Several others said, “Beautiful anchorages,” mentioning places as diverse as Hiva Oa in the Marquesas, Niuatoputapu in Tonga, and the eastern side of Bora Bora. “Suwarrow Atoll,” said Michael Gilbert. “It was described as magical by everyone we’ve spoken with and we all believe that the most magic was due to the Cooks Island caretaker and his family who live there.”

The boats they chose to cruise

The boats in which these 10 interviewees chose to cruise ranged from 28 feet in length to 50 feet on deck. All but two had been bought secondhand; two were more than 30 years old. The purchase prices listed ranged from $35,000 to $400,000.

But in spite of their divergent boat choices and budgets, these folks all had one financial reality in common: The cost to upgrade and outfit the boat once they decided to go cruising ran an additional 25 to 35 percent of the purchase price of the boat.

Other advice for those waiting to set sail

What other advice did these cruisers add to their questionnaires for those dreaming of setting off across oceans? Here’s the list:

• Do it sooner rather than later.
• Quit talking and get out here!
• Know your boat, test your gear.
• Buy the best dinghy you can afford.
• Have confidence in your boat.
• Don’t overload your boat or you will feel cramped and uncomfortable.
• Weather will become your life; study and learn about it.
• Once you have prepared thoroughly, relax and enjoy it all.
• Keep a realistic perspective on being out here—far from family, far from easily available materials, equipment, and skilled labor.
• Be mentally prepared for being at sea a long time. “It was better than I thought it would be,” said one cruiser.
• Slow down!
• Learn a few words of the local language. Even saying hello, thank you, and good-bye can open new worlds to you.
• Be wary of the herd mentality. Remember that it’s your dream, your itinerary, and ultimately your decision.
• Get away from other yachties so you experience the local culture.

The last two suggestions are possibly the hardest ones to put into practice. As our three-week stay at the marina in Apia showed us once again, the cruisers you meet “out there” can be a fascinating group of people. Someone will always be coming up with an activity to add to the day’s entertainment—be it a potluck, a diving expedition, a night on the town, or an evening of sharing stories and singing shanties or old favorites. At many cruising crossroads, there are special places where cruisers gather. The Yacht Club restaurant at Vava’u was one. Unfortunately, it can be so easy to spend the majority of your time at places like this, that you have no time left to meet local folks. Over the years, Larry and I have often written, “Go small, go simple, but go now!”To that, we both would like to add: “Do anything necessary to split your shore time 50/50 between getting to know local people and enjoying the company of other cruisers.” No matter how fine your voyaging turns out to be, if you don’t occasionally break away from your newfound cruising friends, you could look back later and find that there was one thing you didn’t worry about that did actually happen. You could come to realize that the only Polynesian people with whom you had contact were customs and immigration officials and vendors at the local marketplace. Larry and I had been to Tonga 23 years previously. At that time we were adopted by a wonderful family. On our return we joined them for the village feast. Though we invited several of our new cruising friends to join us, almost all had made previous commitments among the fleet. They missed some great food, enjoyable people who were ready to welcome them into their lives and homes.

About Lin and Larry Pardey

Lin and Larry have voyaged more than 200,000 miles together on self-built engine-free wooden boats. Their voyages have taken them around the world, both east-about and west-about, including counter-to-the-prevailing-wind passages south of the great southern capes.

Their 11 books and four DVDs include narratives as well as highly useful information on voyaging, storm tactics, boatbuilding, and seamanship.

The Pardey’s have been credited with launching thousands of dreams by inspiring and empowering generations of sailors. Together and separately they have been honored with many awards for their contributions to cruising and sailing. Most recently, in 2010 the Pardey’s were awarded The Cruising Club of America’s prestigious Far Horizons Award.

Currently they have just returned from exploring the waters of New Zealands Hauraki Gulf and will be flying to the US to present seminars and introduce Lin’s newest book – Bull Canyon, A Boatbuilder, a writer and other Wildlife. Monthly newsletters and cruising tips can be found at www.landlpardey.com.

Capable Cruiser

This revised and expanded third edition of The Capable Cruiser includes 10 completely new chapters with such advice as: sixteen ways to encourage your lover (partner) to share your dream; strategies for turning sudden engine failure into a minor incident; choosing safety equipment; repairing rigging at sea. All of the original chapters have been updated to ensure that the information will be helpful for everyone who dreams of cruising—whether now or soon.

The Capable Cruiser is a logical extension of the Pardeys’ Self Sufficient Sailor, with more emphasis on seamanship underway, including careful analysis of extreme anchoring situations and solutions for mitigating them. Underlying each and every chapter is the warmth and encouragement that spurred Herb McCormick, former editor of Cruising World magazine, to label Lin and Larry Pardey “the enablers.”

Read also on this website

• First-time voyagers — What did they worry about that never happened? (Part 1), by Lin Pardey
• Join Lin and Larry Pardey at US West coast seminars as they introduce new book
• Seasickness (Admiral’s Angle column #18): The most asked-about issue of cruising! What are the realities and how can you combat it?

More information (external links)

• Capable Cruiser is available at Lin’s website: www.landlpardey.com and amazon.com

Arriving in Apia, Samoa

It felt wonderful, no concerns about a wind shift turning our anchorage into a lee shore, no rattle of anchor chain across coral heads, the boat lying still enough to use long-stemmed glasses instead of tumblers for our wine.

Even better, arriving in Apia, Samoa, meant we had woven our way past the hurricane belt between Hawaii and Mexico, through the doldrums and south of the equator. Now we’d completed the longest passages of our voyage from Ventura, California, through the Line Islands and back to our home base in New Zealand.

As Larry and I savored this latest landfall in our 42 years and 185,000 miles of wandering together, I mentioned my sense of relief at arriving here. “If you feel so good about it,” Larry commented, “can you imagine how pleased some of these first-time voyagers must feel?”

I already had some idea. In only a few hours alongside in the first marina we’d seen in several months, I’d met half a dozen of these newest voyagers and enjoyed their excitement at having made the break from life ashore and safely crossing a major ocean.

The idea for this story came after a fun dinner with seven cruising couples in Apia, Samoa.

“They all tell me about the things that worried them before they set sail.” I said to him.

“But they went anyway didn’t they?” Larry countered. “These folks are the crème de la crème, the ones who got organized enough to break free and then actually cut the ties and kept going beyond the first landfall. It has been a long time since we were in a place where there was a whole group of new voyagers fresh from their first long passages, their first time away from easy access to marina facilities.

Why don’t you ask some of them what they worried about that never actually happened? Might give you some interesting ideas to share.”

With his urging, I made a short list of questions, and 11 pairs of willing volunteers shared their thoughts on predeparture worries, the gear that worked, failures that occurred, and thoughts they wanted to share with those waiting to set sail.

Predeparture worries

Heavy weather

Close reaching in about 45 knots of wind

• “Really bad weather,” stated Linda and Steve Maggart, echoing a worry that was at or near the top of the list for almost everyone we questioned.

Among the first timers we interviewed were Linda and Steve Maggart on their Rhodes 40. Their biggest fear had been storm force winds.

Linda and Steve had spent about 30 separate nights at sea before they set off from Cabo San Lucas, Baja California, in March 2008.

This was to be their very first offshore passage on their vintage sloop Linda, a 40-foot Rhodes Bounty II. With five charters in the Caribbean, plus coastal cruises from Seattle through the Inside Passage to Juneau, Alaska, and south to Cabo San Lucas, their experience level was above average among the group of first-time voyagers we met at Apia.

They, like the majority of sailors along the Pacific routes this season, had encountered stronger-than-average winds, especially near the very active South Pacific Convergence Zone. The system seemed to linger for weeks between Bora Bora and Tonga, stretching as far north as the Penrhyn Atoll in the Northern Cooks, where we also sailed through its 35- and 40-knot gusts. This, plus the reinforced trade winds caused by a La Niña year, had not been what folks expected along the “milk run.”

But Linda and Steve both gave their boat full credit for handling these conditions comfortably and they felt they had done a good job of making sure they had ways of securing everything on board for such conditions.

•  John Boggs on Don Pedro, a 47-foot Beneteau sloop, had sailed from Victoria, Canada, through the Panama Canal in a smaller yacht 28 years earlier. This was to be his wife Linda’s first offshore voyage on the boat they had owned for six years.

In spite of his previous experience, he too worried most about extremely bad weather. When we asked, “What do you wish you had more of now that you are out here?” John answered, “More bad-weather experience.” This must be one of the hardest things for new cruisers to acquire. Very few potential voyagers are willing to—or have the time or opportunity to—head out into a gale just to see how it feels. They rarely get a chance to try reefing their sails and moving about on deck and below to learn how their gear really works when the sea gets snarly.

•  Two boats owned by interviewees had suffered full knockdowns while running between Bora Bora and Suwarrow Atoll.  One suffered serious mast damage, the other had damaged lifeline stanchions. Neither had excessive water get inside the boat and no one was injured, and once each of these crews was able to repair the damages and continue onward, they, like all of the other interviewees, felt they had been pretty well prepared for the heavier winds they encountered.

Interestingly, both of the men on the boats that suffered knockdowns expressed their concern that they had let down their female partners. One said candidly, “When the boat came upright and I saw the damage, then I looked at the fear on her face and felt so terrible. This is definitely not what I promised her cruising would be like.” Women, please take note: No matter how much we may feel we are equal partners in any sailing situation, men will always feel they are personally and ultimately to blame if something major goes wrong on board.

•  Two people mentioned that they wished they had spent a few days at sea not only in strong winds but also in moderate running or reaching winds. Had they experienced the constant motion of being at sea, each would have made changes to the cockpit and accommodations to create more comfortable seating and lounging positions.

One commented: “My ass was sore after a few days of running. The inch-thick cockpit seat cushions were too darned hard. I couldn’t find a decent place to wedge myself in and read in the cockpit or down below.”

Being becalmed

Interestingly, none of the sailors we interviewed had been concerned about light winds before they set off. But when we met several of these sailors after they’d voyaged further, they wanted to know more about the light wind sails we carry.

Interestingly, Liz Strash and Mike Scott on Argonaut, a well-maintained Cal 40, worried almost as much about being becalmed as they did about encountering heavy weather.

“The crewman who sailed with us really freaked out when we actually did get becalmed a week out of Cabo. He started counting our food supplies, figuring out how long we could survive out there if the wind never came back. We tried to reassure him, but he was like a caged tiger for a day and a half—until the winds filled in. After that, he never felt as excited about the voyage.” (Larry and I wondered whether he had just read Coleridge’s Rime of the Ancient Mariner.)

Liz and Mike continued on their own after reaching the Marquesas Islands.

Gear failures

•  They were delighted with their voyaging, eager for more, and able to laugh at all the concerns they’d had about breaking things. “We worried that the mast might come down, that the sails would get ripped up.”

But by the time they reached Apia, their gear failures turned out to be, according to Mike, “nothing we really couldn’t do without. Our head stopped working while we could still see Mexico, the refrigeration quit three days later. The watermaker seals leaked and had to be replaced and the block holding the gimbals on the stove broke.”

•  John and Nancy Powers, on their 48-foot sloop Meridian, worried about “through-hull fittings letting go, major engine problems, and someone falling overboard. Knock on wood, none of these happened,” John said. “In fact,” he added, “not much went wrong. But I am glad I had the spares I needed to keep things working. I’d tell new voyagers, if you need one, get two. There are no West Marine outposts here. So get the stuff now!”

•  Craig Compton, who made this voyage with his wife, Kay, on their 28-foot BCC, Little Wing, echoed Mike’s worries about “everything breaking.” In contrast, however, he feels he carried far too many spares. “I installed everything on the boat other than the engine by myself. I used new parts as I did the installation and kept the old parts as the spares. I didn’t need backup spares for the spares.”

The late Hal Roth first wrote about installing new parts and keeping the originals as a way to be sure the spare parts fit and the right tools were on board. It’s a practice we have always followed for vital equipment, such as bilge-pump diaphragms.

•  Although the group of sailors we interviewed was small, their list of gear failures does parallel what we have seen since 1968. Refrigeration was mentioned the most often, engine fresh-water pump impellers came a close second, and watermaker problems were third.

John on Don Pedro mentioned that his watermaker problem was caused by using tap water to flush his system. When he contacted the manufacturer, he learned that the chlorine in city water was responsible for ruining the membrane. John suggested that we remind people to use only distilled water for flushing. (Seven of 10 interviewees had watermakers.)

About Lin and Larry Pardey

Lin and Larry have voyaged more than 200,000 miles together on self-built engine-free wooden boats.  Their voyages have taken them around the world, both east-about and west-about, including counter-to-the-prevailing-wind passages south of the great southern capes.

Their 11 books and four DVDs include narratives as well as highly useful information on voyaging, storm tactics, boatbuilding, and seamanship.

The Pardey’s have been credited with launching thousands of dreams by inspiring and empowering generations of sailors. Together and separately they have been honored with many awards for their contributions to cruising and sailing. Most recently, in 2010 the Pardey’s were awarded The Cruising Club of America’s prestigious Far Horizons Award.

Currently they have just returned from exploring the waters of New Zealands Hauraki Gulf and will be flying to the US to present seminars and introduce Lin’s newest book – Bull Canyon, A Boatbuilder, a writer and other Wildlife. Monthly newsletters and cruising tips can be found at www.landlpardey.com.

Capable Cruiser

This revised and expanded third edition of The Capable Cruiser
includes 10 completely new chapters with such advice as: sixteen ways to encourage your lover (partner) to share your dream; strategies for turning sudden engine failure into a minor incident; choosing safety equipment; repairing rigging at sea. All of the original chapters have been updated to ensure that the information will be helpful for everyone who dreams of cruising—whether now or soon.

The Capable Cruiser is a logical extension of the Pardeys’ Self Sufficient Sailor, with more emphasis on seamanship underway, including careful analysis of extreme anchoring situations and solutions for mitigating them. Underlying each and every chapter is the warmth and encouragement that spurred Herb McCormick, former editor of Cruising World magazine, to label Lin and Larry Pardey “the enablers.”

Read also on this website

• First-time voyagers — What did they worry about that never happened? (Part 2)
• Join Lin and Larry Pardey at US West coast seminars as they introduce new book

More information (external links)

• Capable Cruiser is available at Lin’s website: www.landlpardey.com and amazon.com