Well, I'm back and open for MSOG business. Where were you, you might ask (or not, I'm gonna tell you anyway)?
The end of June marked my big 5-0 birthday. I decided I had to do something big. So I sailed  on an Island Packet 45 from Norfolk to Bermuda.

I didn't mention it beforehand because frankly, I wasn't sure I had enough experience to go, even up to the first day. But all went well.

The Maryland School of Sailing offers the course about three trips a year (one crew one direction, another crew the other direction) in May and June. It is an 8-day offshore training program, with a captain and first mate from the school and four students/crew. Celestial navigation was to be a part of it.  First two days were dockside training, drilling and provisioning and inspection, then six days at sea, about 650 miles, with two people standing two four-hour watches each day. I was paired with the captain (most experienced and the least experienced?) and the best watch: 8-12. We ended up leaving the night before to beat a low-pressure area moving in, and the weatherfax showed a jumble of lows crossing and forming on our route, including a gale about three days out, which we did and didn't want to experience.

I felt sorry for the fellas taking the course to complete their celestial navigation course and one guy even bought a sextant the night before, only to discover we had two hours of sunlight the entire trip, and only one sextant shot opportunity.

The cloudy weather was actually a godsend, normally this time of year there is little or no wind, lots of motorsailing, and stifling temperatures. This trip the temps were ideal and though we had rain about a fourth of the time, a good bimini and dodger helped the situation. Even so, I ended up wearing my foulies whenever I was on watch, along with sea boots and the required harness and tether with mandatory strobe light, whistle and flashlight. Man, did I feel seamanlike.

Starboard tack heading southeast with southwest winds almost all the way (northeast for an afternoon or so). Though on a rhumb line course of 118 degrees, our heading was 135 to counteract the Gulf Stream. We stayed on that course for about 4 days, with 5-10 degree changes for cold currents and such.

I'd estimate two-thirds of the trip was spent under double-reefed main and genny or staysail, with several hours under a partially furled staysail and still sustained eight knots. Port rail in the water, sails and rigging thrumming like a runaway freight train. 30-degree heel and rockin' and rollin' in tall water doesn't even make me blink anymore (at least in a 45-footer). We did hit the end of the gale and sailed through like there was nothing to it, watching 15-foot waves tower over, then roll under us just like everybody says they should. At night, with the cloud cover, there was no light and no horizon, just flying through the dark with no light but a compass and the sensation of constant motion. With no reference points, I felt as though I was riding on a locomotive flying at 100 mph through space. It was important to look around and focus on whatever you could to keep from getting vertigo. It was simply unbelievable.

I did find the answer to the question I had set out to answer, and that was whether this kind of cruising is for me. The answer is an emphatic NO. Though the on-deck portion was terrific, belowdecks was monotonous and uncomfortable. With only four berths available, hot-bunking was in order, you lie down where the guy on the next shift just got up. Trying to sleep, make meals and clean up meals was frustrating and uncomfortable. I've heard a sailor uses 3 times the energy performing any activity on board vs. on land, I believe it now. We spent most of the time between watches trying to sleep. By the third day, the crew were counting down the number of watches left.

The other realization came about midway through the second day, when I realized the perpetual movement and unceasing noise was going to continue for four more days. I would have given anything for one hour of quiet and no movement. But I didn't get sick, thanks to Bonine. The closest I came was after the trip, trying to walk around Bermuda without my landlegs back yet. Took me about two days to walk normally.

Despite the belowdeck stuff, the trip was unforgettable. The only way to describe it would be sheer magnificence mixed with utter drudgery.  I think three days would have been enough, which Maryland School also offers in a trip around the Delmarva peninsula, though the return trip at sea right now has a couple on it that had taken the Delmarva trip and wanted more. He was weird anyway. Thank goodness the School didn't have a slot open on the Norfolk to St. Thomas trip, 12 days at sea, but only $300 more than the Bermuda trip. Apparently there's a waiting list, poor suckers.

Had three glorious days in Bermuda where I celebrated my birthday with a bunch of new and temporary friends and danced the night away. Enjoyed it so much I forgot I was supposed to leave the next day and didn't. I ended up having to re-book for the next day and had the weekend to keep the glow of the whole experience intact. I'll be going back again sometime, but by air next time.

I've decided to do something similar every 50 years.

You can read about some of the other trips and course offerings at http://www.mdschool.com/ .

Doug

------------------------------------------
Doug King
M-17 #404 "Vixen"

Montgomery Sailboats Owners Group Web site: http://msog.org
Email: mailto:msog@msog.org