First Week Atlantic

Sunday, 22nd January 2023.

It’s now a week ago when we waved goodbye to family and friends as well as our fellow ralliers and the nice and helpful ARC-Team in Las Palmas, Gran Canaria. They were emotional moments and a tear or two were hidden behind our sunglasses.

The first three days were a getting used to to the movement, to the up and down, to the swaying in all directions. Everything takes longer than just a few hours ago in the marina. Everything needs to be done with one hand only. There is the saying ‘one hand for the boat, one hand for the sailor’. This is true. You must hold on all the time and think about normal, everyday’s actions, how to do them one-handed and with an unstable stand. Okay, we know all this from our past time sailing but it is surprising, how one still has to get used to it every time again.

And there is the lack of sleep. As a sailing couple without crew we have to share all chores and especially the watches between us. The first days are the most difficult as one isn’t used to the watch pattern with only a maximum of about 3.5 hours sleep at a time. On top come the seasickness tablets that make us sleepy and literally knock us out. But they do their job, so no complaining.

Our poled-out front sails which we hope will get us to the other side of the Atlantic

It was fun to see the AIS of fellow participants on our plotter ever so often during the first days. Thinking about how they are dealing with the situation and talking to some of them over VHF. But soon we could only see the odd one far away and then no one for days. That is when the satellite phone comes in handy and one can chat and exchange thoughts with other boats further away. The community that has formed in the week leading up to our start is extraordinary and next to the security definitely a plus for sailing with the ARC.

Anyway, on the third day, we had our first freshly cooked lunch (no precooked goulash anymore). And by Wednesday we could say we had our sea legs and got used to be on the move. Michael even got a haircut which he didn’t have time for during the busy week before departure.

After a squall is before a squall and in between there is a rainbow

On the forth day the squalls started. These are local storm cells which come suddenly, and mostly at night with strong winds and thunder. We had to find our ways through the squalls like a maze. This meant to steer SERENDIPITY in front of the wind in an angle of about 120 to 150 degrees. At one point the rain was so strong that I, just woken from my sleep, had to block the companionway with cushions to keep downstairs and my bed dry. Normally we use the washboards to block the companionway, but this would have meant me beeing soaked completely, so instead the cushions had to suffer. The wind and rain in the cockpit was so loud that Michael couldn’t hear what I was shouting at him.

Cooking pancakes in full-weather gear

Today, being Sunday and a week on sea we had pancakes for breakfast to celebrate. A nice treat and quality time together (normally I go straight to sleep after my early shift and only wake for lunch). As only the two of us are sharing four-hourly shifts and have to catch up with as much sleep as possible during the day, we often only have time to eat lunch together.

Reviewing the past week, we can say all is fine, we are happy on our floating home. Luckily, there hasn’t been any bad breakages, apart from the gas failure we will report on another time.

Ahoy!