Sailing Steel Sapphire

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Mission Accomplished

“The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step” – Lao Tzu

When some people have expressed awe at the scale of what we’re undertaking, I’ve routinely told them “Ah, it’s really not much more than a series of short sails to Pittwater, all stitched together”

While that is understating it a little, there’s more than a grain of truth to it.  Lao Tzu’s famous quote could have been written with a sailing circumnavigation in mind, and although it was relevant during our last few years of planning, it’s even more so now that we’re underway.

 Perhaps surprisingly, planning and executing the individual steps of the journey holds just as much interest for me as the prospect of all the far-flung and exotic places we are going to get to see, and the fantastic opportunity we’ll have to experience so many different cultures.

 Let’s take our very first step, the initial sail from Sydney to the Gold Coast, as an example.

 It’s about 400 nautical miles, which would typically take 3-4 days to sail non-stop, and will be in the mid-range of the types of passage we’ll be making as we sail around the world. We’ll probably make about 30-40 passages of similar length, hundreds if not thousands of day sails or single “overnighters”, and then there’s the big passages.  The longest of those (Galapagos Islands to Marquesas) will be about 3,000 miles, or 25 days, and there will probably be around 10 of those long passages, ranging from 10 days to 25 days.

 But interestingly, the work that goes into planning and executing a 4-day passage is not that different from the big ones, or even the day trips for that matter.

 For almost every trip, we need to think about:

  •  How many stops we want to make 

  • Whether the weather forecast is suitable, taking into account wind direction, wind strength, current, visibility etc.  

  • Ensuring we have the correct charts on board. 

  • Which route to sail, to ensure we have the most favourable weather and wind angle, and taking into account the navigational hazards (islands, rocks, shoal patches, shipping lanes, container ship parking areas) we’re likely to encounter along the way

  • What time of day to leave

  • Ensuring you arrive in daylight if it’s an unfamiliar port. 

  • Ensuring you arrive at the correct state of tide.  

  • What bail-out ports we might use if the weather turns nasty, or we have any kind of emergency. 

  • What to provision 

  • What watch-keeping system you’re going to use. 

  • Ensuring that we know where we were going to be anchoring/tying up the boat when we arrive at the destination

 I could go on, but I’m sure you get the point.  There’s a lot more involved in picking up the anchor and embarking on each leg of our trip than would be the case if we were driving or flying the same route.  

 Even with the best plan in the world, inevitably there will be some changes along the way, and on this, our first passage, one of those changes caused a chain reaction of events that I think perfectly highlights the challenges and joys of what we’re doing.

 Having stopped at Pittwater on the first night, we departed the next day intending to sail non-stop to the Gold Coast.  The wind forecast did not materialise as expected, which meant we were subject to some really unpleasant rolling due to the waves and swell being more dominant than the wind.  After enduring 48 hours of it, we decided enough was enough and headed into Coffs Harbour for some much needed R&R.

 Making this change meant we were now going to have to update the plan for the remainder of the trip, as we would be in a different weather system.

 We use weather routing software called PredictWind that incorporates 4 separate weather forecasts from different sources and provides comparative models.  We also add a fifth forecast into our thinking, issued by the Australian Bureau of Meteorology (BOM).  It’s less detailed than the PredictWind forecasts, but since it’s developed locally, it is often more accurate.  When all 5 forecasts align, you can be pretty confident in the weather, but when they diverge, it’s a different story.  

PredictWind showing four different forecasts along our route.

 As we sat in the marina in Coffs Harbour, the four forecast models on PredictWind were in alignment – the best time to leave was Saturday morning, at which point we’d have a fabulous trip up to the Gold Coast.  The forecasts were for 15-25 knots wind from the SW, with relatively flat seas – perfect winds for Steel Sapphire.   

 However the Australian BOM forecast was for 25-35 knots, 2m-4m waves and a 2m-3m swell, which, although not dangerous on a boat like Steely, would be testing to say the least. Good seamanship dictates that you should not choose to depart in those conditions, even if you feel that the boat would be just fine if you were unexpectedly caught out in them.

 To add some spice to our decision, the BOM accompanied its forecast with its usual warning that actual wind gusts can be up to 40% higher than forecast, and maximum waves twice as high – this is a warning that has been issued with every single forecast for the last 20 years, as a recommendation of the inquest following the tragic 1998 Sydney to Hobart race where 6 sailors died and dozens of boats were badly damaged, largely due to inadequate understanding of the weather forecast.

 Based on that, we might expect to experience moments where there were gusts close to 50 knots, and occasional freak waves and swell combined of up to 10m.

 So, we had 4 forecasts (developed overseas) saying we’d have a great sail, and one (developed locally) saying we’d have a very full-on trip, likely to be unpleasant, and possibly even dangerous.

 Which to believe?  

 We also had a deadline, which was influencing our thinking about when to depart – we had booked a haul-out at the Gold Coast for a few days hence, and about 5 different trades were waiting to go to work on the boat once we arrived there, so we were very keen to make our appointment.  

 Again, conventional wisdom is that you never let a deadline dictate your departure time, as safety is more important, but when 4 out of 5 forecasts were saying it would be fine, human nature kicks in, and you really do want to ignore the one negative voice.

 The PredictWind forecasts are more granular, using complex models to give local forecasts down to 1 square kilometre, whereas the BOM forecasts are for a much larger region, and are necessarily more of a blunt instrument.  Since weather forecasting is all about predictions, the more specific one gets, the harder it is to be confident, so that was a strike against PredictWind.  

 But then again, the wind direction was going to be from the SW, meaning that the closer to land we stayed, the more protection we’d have from wind and waves.  PredictWind was obviously taking this into account, whereas BOM clearly was covering an area much further out to sea and thus had to ensure its forecast described the conditions you’d experience 25 -50 miles offshore (we were not planning to be more than 5 miles offshore).

 Typically this would be a skipper’s call, but for obvious reasons, I sat down with Jen and talked through the risks and implications.   After a short discussion, we decided that the PredictWind forecasts were much more likely, and we identified two “bail-out” ports (Yamba and Ballina) into which we could duck for cover if the BOM forecast materialised.

 One additional consideration was that if the BOM forecast was largely correct, but we were happy enough to keep going rather than bailing out, we would be sailing much faster than in the conditions forecasted by PredictWind.  

 This would mean we’d arrive at the Gold Coast in the dark, possibly with big seas making it hard to enter the Gold Coast Seaway.  That would suggest leaving a few hours later, but of course we were expecting and hoping for the Predict Wind forecast, which would put us under time pressure if we delayed our departure.

 In the end, we split the difference, and set off at 11am, in flat calm conditions!  

A scary video posted on Instagram by our friends and fellow Clontarf berth holders, S/V Australis

About an hour out of Coffs, I spotted a post on Instagram from a friend showing a video of 60-knot winds that he was experiencing in Port Stephens, some 70 miles to our south. Since that is the direction the weather system was coming from, it seemed very possible that we were going to be caught by the BOM forecast after all.

 This provoked an immediate flurry of activity, as I fired up the computer and checked what PredictWind and BOM were forecasting for the Port Stephens area.  That was inconclusive, but did suggest that they would have worse wind down there than we were experiencing.

 We decided to keep going.

 An hour later, the winds kicked in, a little earlier than forecast, but building nicely to around 20 knots (our sweet spot).  The boat heeled over, we hit the groove, and suddenly we were sailing close to our top speed.

 Then things got really interesting, and not in a good way!

 On a trip down below, I noticed that we had water coming in one of our portlights (windows).  This particular window is on the side of the hull level with the galley, and is designed to cope fine underwater, which it was about 50% of the time on the point of sail we were currently on.

 Each time we leaned further over, or a wave slapped against it, another tablespoon of water would seep in the side and collect on the ledge below the window.  When I first spotted it, there was about a half a glass of water swilling around.  I’d mopped it up immediately, and watched, and within 5 minutes, the same amount was back.

 While not immediately dangerous, this was definitely concerning, especially as we would be leaning over, with this window under water, for 90% of the trip.

 This window is one of only two on board that is designed to open.  Although I could see that it was closed properly, my first thought (and hope) was that perhaps a bit of dirt or grit was caught in the seal, and all that I would need to do was open it, clean the seal, and close it again. 

 I called up to Jen to bear away (change direction away from the wind), to level the boat out so I could open the window and examine what was going on.

 There was nothing visible, but I cleaned it thoroughly, closed it again, and gave the call to bring the boat back onto the wind so that we would lean over and I could see if my easy fix had worked.

 The water returned, at the same rate as before.  Clearly something had failed in the seal, and we weren’t going to be able to fix it properly while underway.

Jen came down and had a go herself, adding some Vaseline onto the seal, which can sometimes help rubber to seal better.  It made a small difference, but we were still taking in water.

We taped up the seals with gaffer tape and that slowed the leak down some more, to only a teaspoon-full every 5 minutes.

(Note that nearly all sailing yarns of things going wrong involve using Vaseline, gaffer tape or cable ties to fix it – if all three are used in a particular story, that’s Sailing Bingo!)

Although not ideal, the rate of ingress was sufficiently slow that we could keep on top of it by mopping it up ever 30 minutes or so, and the decision was made to carry on.  

Screenshot from Marine Traffic: The purple line is our course. We intended to stay parallel to the coast, ut you can see clearly where we had to head out to sea as we addressed each of our problems, with an hour in between when we managed to resume the correct course.

We brought the boat up onto the wind and resumed our course.  Annoyingly, we were about 5 miles further out to sea than planned, as we had had to aim offshore to deal with the window issue.  This was not ideal, given our belief that the closer to shore we remained, the less wind and waves we’d encounter.  This wasn’t a deal-breaker, but it was something to note, and I changed our planned course on the chart plotter to slowly get us back on track over the next few hours.

Only an hour had passed before the second problem arose. 

The wind had continued to build, and it was now time to take in some reefs to make the sails smaller. Our biggest sail is our Genoa, at the front of the boat, and as we were furling some of it away, the furling line got caught between the sheeve and outer frame of the block through which it passes.  

It was stuck fast, preventing us from letting the sail in or out, and because of the way it was wedged between the edges of the block, it was immediately obvious it was going to be a major job to free it. Once again I asked Jen to bear away, this time to reduce pressure on the sail to enable me to work on it.

It took the best part of an hour to fix the problem (requiring me to essentially rip the sheeves in the block to pieces to get the rope out), by which point we were a further 5 miles offshore, and had most definitely not been making progress in the direction intended, putting further pressure on our anticipated arrival time.

By this point, night had fallen, and the wind had settled into a steady 20-25knots, pretty much exactly what Predict Wind was forecasting.  

But it was still early, with the predicted peak winds not due until 9pm.  We were a little apprehensive, as the combination of the slightly unnerving boat issues, plus the cold and dark night, combined to have us fear the worst.

As the wind guested to the high 20’s, we put some further reefs in, and re-examined our plans for the bail out ports.  I adjusted our course slightly, which meant that we’d be closer to shore, and we established that we could stop at Yamba at 9pm, or Ballina at 1am.  I reviewed the pilot book for both ports, and satisfied myself that if we had to, I’d know what we needed to do to get in at night.

With our contingency plan sorted, it was time to revisit our ETA.  We had a conservative sail plan up, meaning that we had the perfect amount of sail for the gusts, but were slow in the lulls.  That is definitely the right way to do it, but the on-board computer was showing that we had to keep our foot down if we were to arrive at Gold Coast in daylight.

The remainder of the night was thus a dance of sails in and out to keep our average speed up while not pressing the boat or ourselves too hard.  Although the wind peaked around 11pm with about 37 knots, the seas remained flat, and the average winds were such that it was clear that the Predict Wind forecasts were indeed correct.

By 5am, the wind had dropped away to almost nothing, the engines went on, and we arrived at the Gold Coast seaway entrance at exactly 2pm – bang on when the PredictWind software had said we would!

Our mission was complete. The first step, from Sydney to Gold Coast, had been achieved, despite all that our own fears, nature and an errant boat could throw at us.

And as I basked in the feeling of satisfaction that only reaching your destination can give you, I reflected on the fact that our journey around the world is indeed going to be a series of steps, of reaching destinations, and that this sense of satisfaction is going to be one of the most enjoyable aspects of our trip.