That sixth sense when sailing transatlantic

The stories of open ocean crossings few people tell....
When sharing stories with other sailors about ocean crossings, in my experience, those are mostly tales about winds, sail settings, provisioning... But, for me, there is more to an ocean crossing than that... For me, an ocean crossing is about opening my senses... And at times, my senses go "really open" :-)

Here is one story.. I am looking forward to hear other stories from other ocean sailors about "extra-ordinary" things that happened to them, which make "open ocean sailing".... eh... "special"...

This is my story of my most "meta-physical" experience when crossing an ocean:

The setting: It is 2006. It was my 4th or 5th ocean crossing, and my first trans-atlantic trip...
One night: We were somewhere between Cape Verde and the Caribbean. I had the night shift with Pete, who had been my watch-mate for over a month already by then, as we are re-locating our boat (a 57ft Beneteau) from Southampton to the Caribbean.

Pete and I, initially, banged heads as we were both strong-willed people, but through the daily watches (sailing, cooking and cleaning) we did together, we grew to like each other, trust each other, and started to have loads of fun together, especially during our mid-night watches.

That one night in the mid-Atlantic, I remember very well!
The skies were clear, but it was dark. I mean "pitch dark". There was no moon. Around our vessel, we could not see anything. Meta-physically, it seemed our 57ft boat was sailing at 10 kts into a void of nothing-ness.

At a certain point, around midnight, I told Pete: "I feel we're not alone....." Pete looks at me with void eyes... I tell him: "I can feel a presence around us..... Someone is right here, close to us, very close"..
At that point, Pete laughed at me, asking if I smoked the wrong stuff, or had snorted some of the dried mushroom soup we found in the galley earlier in the day, in a plastic bag. But I insisted: while we could see nothing, and had no visual contact with any land or another vessel for days, I... I... I just could sense someone was close to us. Very close.

We did not have AIS ("Automatic Identification System) back then, in 2006. So, we looked at the radar, and strangely enough, one second we could see a faint blip close to us, and then, nothing..... The blip looked like reflections from a wave....: A small radar-blip and then nothing again... Was there someone?
The blip was quite close to our boat... But it was there and the next second, it was gone. And a minute later, it appeared again.

We always had our VHF radio in the cockpit on channel 16, but had not heard a beep for days. On a hunch, I just pushed the PTT ("Push to Talk") of microphone on our VHF, on channel 16. I did not say anything, but just keyed the microphone on and off, and that's it. And, ......... a PTT-click came back on the radio. Loud, strong and clear. The hair on the back of my neck stood up... Someone clicked his VHF radio, And that someone was someone close by....

Pete and I looked at each other in disbelief. After days of radio-silence, days without having seen any other signs of life - or another vessel -, we heard a PTT-click on the radio. I keyed the VHF radio again, and this time, I said something like: "General call on one-six, this is sailing vessel Persuader Too, at (coordinates)".

Lo-and-behold, immediately came an answer with a clear and loud voice "Persuader Too, this is sailing yacht Daddledu on one-six, hearing you loud and clear".
From the clarity of their VHF transmission, we realized that Daddledu was close to us. We asked them to give a light signal, so we could physically locate them. And a single white light signal, probably from a flashlight, came back......... Daddledu was not just "in our vicinity"....... they were about 100m off our starboard. We could almost touch them.

We chatted on the VHF radio. They were a German crew and on their way to Barbados. They were not taking part in the ARC, as we were. We asked why they were not showing any navigation lights? They responded they had been dis-masted some 500 miles back and hence were trying to conserve as much power as possible, while they put up a make-shift jury-rig to continue some sailing. So they had switched off all navigation lights.
Their skipper was a guy called Jens. Asking if we could assist, he said they were all OK but would appreciate it if we could relay a communication or send an e-mail to the skipper's wife Angelica back in Germany, to let her know what happened to their rig, that they were safe but their arrival in Barbados would be much later than expected.
Which we did.

We never actually "saw" Daddledu. Only saw their single light flash and heard their voice on VHF. By the time daylight came through, we had already passed them by 30-40 miles. A light ping in the dark, and a VHF-voice in the void.. In the middle of no-where. That was our encounter.

From that moment on, Pete never doubted by sixth-sense again.

Picture: Me at the helm of Persuader Too in 2006, in the mid Atlantic, the morning after our Daddledu encounter... 🙂

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The Flying Dutchman. Or not

Another story of "real weird stuff" happening during an ocean crossing...

The setting: It is late 2022. We are sailing S/V Nerio, a 72ft Jongert 2200S, from Gibraltar to the Canaries.
We are three onboard: "Peter One", the skipper and owner; Hanne, a friend of the skipper; and myself "Peter Two". Hanne does not sail, but helps with the cooking and boat chores, so the skipper and I sail this thoroughbred racing cruiser with 4 hour single watches: 4 hours on and 4 hours off.

One early morning, just around sunrise, we must have been 3 days into our passage from Gibraltar to Las Palmas: As I wake up, I hear the engine running: there is no wind, we’re motoring.

I come on deck, ready to start my watch. The sea is flat calm. Not a whisper of wind. I find both Peter and Hanne in the cockpit, looking intensely towards the horizon on our port.

They look at me, as I take a seat in the cockpit. They say "Good morning", and immediately turn their heads again to our port side. I ask them "What's up? Anything wrong?!"

And Peter says: "We seem to have a Flying Dutchman" and points to the navigation screen, which shows an AIS signal close to our boat. For the non-sailors: "AIS"= "Automated Identification System", an automated data-gram transmitted via VHF radio from each boat, identifying who they are, where they are, their speed, course, and optionally destination, length-width, etc..).

And the AIS screen indeed clearly shows a solid green IAS blip of a cargo vessel which is supposed to be about half a mile off our port side.

Even though the sun is just rising, and the sky is quite bright already, in a pale-white/light grey way, we don't see any vessel. We see water and sky, all in different shades of light grey-ish, making it difficult to distinguish between sky, horizon and the sea. But no ship. Very calm sea with a light ocean swell transitioning into a rather grey sky, somewhat typical for a morning pre-sunrise.

"A Flying Dutchman", Peter repeats, "A ghost ship.. Seems there is nothing there".

Now I know it is possible AIS, like any computer system, gets screwed up, and transmits or receives wrong data. But still... this is all slightly worrying, as according to the AIS, we should have a 250m long cargo vessel about 600 meters from our port. In land-lubber terms that might sound like quite a distance between us, but when you are sailing, that is a distance --mmmmh.. slightly outside of our comfort zone.. Normally we like to keep 1 Nautical mile or 1.8 kilometers from cargo vessels, as a safety buffer zone.

We look again. And see nothing. "Yep, probably a phantom signal, showing a ghost ship on our AIS..", we conclude...

But... we keep looking... The sun is not out yet, so the sky is light-grey and there is slighter horizontal darker-grey rim, which must be the horizon, we guess. But no sight of a vessel. Just to make sure, we switch on the radar (which we only run occasionally, to save power), and gosh: the same blip we have on AIS, we can see on the radar too....There MUST be a vessel out there. No way both radar and AIS could be wrong....

And right at that moment, something happens... Some of the slightly darker grey horizontal layers in the sky we saw earlier on our port side, which we mistook for a horizon, clears up, making it now obvious what is happening: we are sailing in a really low fog-bank and had not even realized it, with all of that grey-ish-ness around us.
Like in the movies: the fog parted in just a few seconds, and like curtains on a stage opening up slowly, the mist bank clears, and we see a massive cargo ship, indeed, half a mile off our port side.

We are sailing in a fog bank without even realizing it. It was not a ghost signal from a "Flying Dutchman"... All our instruments showed the correct data... The early morning mist had fooled us.

And that is what I find intriguing about sailing. No matter my 20 years of sailing, every single day at sea, I learn something new. And nature, the elements, or circumstances, present me something new, not experienced before. And we learn. Sailing is not about training certificates, it is about experience. And no matter how much I sail, no matter how the experiences rack up, I am still learning new things, experience new stuff, e-v-e-r-y single day.

That day, I learned to trust AIS and radar, beyond relying solely on what I can see...
And there is also an other story coming up, showing that solely relying on instruments, without visual verification, is not enough either :-) :-) ...

Sailing, hey! :-)

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Know the navigation tools you use!

Three weeks ago.

Things are a bit intense here aboard Manami II. We are about 100-150 Nm WSW off the Portuguese SW corner. It is very early in the morning hours... The sky is dark grey, half lit,... but we don't know if the faint light comes from the moon or if the sun is actually raising at dawn. And the wind is absolutely ***howling*** in the rigging, at 30-35 kts. We are wet, we are cold, we are tired, and we're in the deep end of a low pressure area, sailing South.

Normally, when sailing to the Canaries, I don't venture that far West, in the open Atlantic ocean, as normally I come in from South Spain, Gibraltar or Southern Portugal and cut across the most Western Gibraltar Traffic Separation zone (TSS), which is wayyy further East.

But this time, we came from the UK, hugging the Spain and Portugal West coast, to cut across to the Canaries.

Apparently.......... there are two shallow areas (20-25m depth) underwater mountains raising steeply from 1000-2000m depth to +-20m, in the middle of the ocean in the area we were about to cross (picture below - iSailor screenshot).

It took me by surprise as normally, when I come in from Gibraltar we don't venture that far offshore, west. But the real surprise was that the (expensive, annual renewable) Navionics charts we have on our tablets/phones/chart plotter,... did NOT show any details of these shallows, unless if fully zoomed in. Reminds me of Vestas/11th Hour crash onto a non-zoomed-in reef off Madagascar, in the Volvo Ocean race some years ago, right?

And even when fully zoomed in, those Navionics charts did not show any details at all. (see pic below of a Navionics screen shot - no details of the depths, and no details there were actually two underwater peaks - compare to the below iSailor screen shots)

Meanwhile, my mickey-mouse cheap (and no longer supported/updated) iSailor maps on my Iphone, clearly showed the shallows, even when zoomed fully out.

WTF Navionics/Garmin?!?! Like, really, WTF?!?

I mean.. we came across those shallows in 35 kts wind in the dark. There must have been significant weird currents and standing waves, if we were to have gone over these shallows.

Navionics, hey..!? A cheap no-longer supported app like iSailor with outdated charts, payable “once and good for life”, outranks an app like Navionics in details?! A bit scary, knowing Navionics is used and dearly paid for - thru annual expensive subscriptions - by many cruisers?!

Lessons learned: Electronic charts are fine, but know the limitations of the tool. And compare different tools. I am sticking to iSailor which saved my *ss so many times in the past. Even if the tool is no longer supported, and charts have not been updated for a while.

And by the way, over the years, I had too many instances of navigation bouys marked in Navionics, but which nowhere to be spotted in “real life”. That means, as a full-time sailor, I would never rely on this over-priced, faulty piece of crap software, as my sole navigation aid. 

*end of rant*

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The Skipper's Rules for Ocean Passages

Over the past years, I have been mentoring/guiding yacht owners to prepare for ocean passages. Many of them had previously sailed for years and knew their boat well. But typically, they day-sailed, adding an occasional overnight passage, but had never done a long open ocean passage before.

The main challenge I have seen is that many skippers consider an ocean passage of e.g. 17 days, as “just 17x a day passage”. A common mistake. An ocean passage is very different from day sailing. I wrote an earlier blogpost about how to prepare a boat for an ocean passage. In this post, I want to focus more on the crew, management of expectations and clear understandings of what both the skipper and the crew expect from the trip and each other..

One of the things I have been insistent on, is to establish clear “rules” onboard, clarifying what a skipper/owner expects of his/her crew and how the crew is expected to work and live on the boat.

Unclear rules, lead to confused expectations of either side – the skipper or the crew - and lead to conflicts or bad feelings during a passage. And you do NOT want that… As a skipper, you’d want all your crew to be “tuned in”, and agreeing what and how you want to do your upcoming ocean passage, and for all to have an enjoyable passage. As a crew, you’d want to know not only “what” to do, but also “how to do it”.

Here is an outline of “The Skipper’s Rules” for an ocean passage which I use, where you, as skipper, can start from. Adapt where you see fit. None of this is cast in concrete. The important thing is “to establish the rules and expectations”, in whichever form.

(1) Our goal

Our main goal is to get the boat and crew safely from A to B, with the least wear and tear on the boat. Our secondary goal is to be able to enjoy the uniqueness of a passage in an open ocean, an opportunity only few people are privileged to enjoy.

(2) The Skipper

On any boat, there is only one skipper, who makes the final call on anything related to the boat and passage. He/she might consult with others, but the skipper makes the final call.

(3) The First Mate

The first mate is the 2nd in command on a boat, and typically takes care of the day-to-day management of the boat and crew. If the skipper becomes incapacitated, the first mates takes over command of the yacht.

(4) Safety first

- When new crew boards a ship, the skipper or first mate should give a thorough safety briefing. A safety briefing consists of a run-through of all equipment on board (fire extinguishers, fire blankets, main cut-off switches, person-over-board and emergency equipment) and the basic safety procedures, including "MOB"- or "Man (person)-over-board".
- Rule #1: don't fall overboard. Rule #2: don't fall overboard. Rule #3: don't fall overboard.
- PFDs ("Personal Floatation Devices" or "Life jackets") are to be worn at night, as of sunset to sunrise, for all crew on deck, even in the cockpit. PFDs are also to be worn when working on the top/foredeck in rough seas, even during daytime. Beyond that, if the skipper deems the seas to be rough or winds to be unstable (e.g. incoming squalls) or strong (e.g. 20+ knots) winds, he/she can call for "PFDs on" for all crew on deck at any time.
- Beyond that, crew can always put on their PFD, whenever they feel uncomfortable.
- In high swells, particularly at night, crew is to be clipped on with their lifelines, even when in the cockpit. In rough weather, crew is always to be clipped on when working on top/foredeck, day or night.

(5) Night sailing

- PFD's on, at all times during night hours, for any crew on deck, even in the cockpit.
- Crew stays in the cockpit area, and do not go onto the top/foredeck unless if it is really needed.
- If work needs to be done on top/foredeck at night, there always have to be at least two crew on deck: one in the cockpit and one doing the work on the top/foredeck.
- At night, crew uses head torches, with red-only lights. White lights can be used to occasionally look at the sails or to look forward of the ship, but in general, white lights should be avoided, even below deck.

(6) Alcohol

- No alcohol during the passage, except, an optional sunset crew-toast (if the skipper agrees) with a beer/glass of wine (and one beer/glass of wine only), but no hard liquor. “Dry boat” or “sunset drink only”, is a skipper’s choice/decision. I am equally happy on a total dry boat, or one where we have a sunset drink).
- The night before leaving for a passage: no heavy drinking or partying. For the start of any passage, the crew has to be at their best.

(7) Drugs and smoking

- No drugs allowed on board.
- The skipper defines if smoking is allowed onboard - which is a deal-breaker for me, as “my only vice in life” is that I smoke. But I try to be really “social” in my smoking: I only smoke downwind, and put my ashes in a small lid-locked ash tray.

(8) Watches

- Watches are pre-scheduled, agreed by and followed by all crew.
- Watches come on deck, on time. Keep in mind, that in rough or cold weather, you might need 20 minutes to get your gear on, and prepare a coffee. But… be on time!
- At any time, at least one person is to be on watch.
- The person on watch is in charge of the ship’s operation and crew safety during their watch. The person on watch pays full attention to the boat, traffic, sea state, wind, potential hazards (fishing pods or nets, objects in the water,..) and weather.
- A person on watch uses eyes, ears, and feeling to their full capacity to ensure safety of ship and crew. As such, even when sailing on autopilot, the watch sits at – or near – the helm, paying full attention to the boat and its surroundings.
- As a watch keeps an “eye”, “feeling” and “ear” on the boat, it is preferred not to use headsets or ear-phones as it dumbs your hearing. If you like some background music during your watch, use a bluetooth speaker…
- Each watch has a "buddy system". The watch can call on their "buddy" for sail changes or any assistance needed during their watch. If need be, the watch calls on the skipper when in doubt, or before any significant decisions.
- If, for any reason, those who are to be on watch are not up to their task (sea sickness e.g.), they ask an alternate (typically "their buddy") to take over their watch.
- If the person on watch observes a significant change in weather or sea state, which requires sail changes, they call on backup crew (typically "their buddy") to assist with sail changes. Some sail changes (e.g. dropping the spinnaker) might need “more hands on deck”, a call to be made by the watch.
- if those on watch feel uncomfortable at any time, or question themselves if sail changes or significant course changes etc… are needed, they call on their buddy, or call on the skipper to confirm their intended changes
- If in any doubt, do not hesitate to wake up the skipper. The skipper needs to trust you to call on him or her, if you need help

(9) Proximity to other vessels

- In open sea, we keep a nominal safe distance ("CPA" or "Closest Point of Approach") of 1 nautical mile from any cargo vessel. In more close quarters (coastal passages, busy traffic lanes), 0.5 Nmiles CPA (aft or alongside a cargo vessel) is acceptable, but no less. If in doubt, we call them on VHF to agree how we will pass each other.
- By preference we cross the path of cargo vessels aft of them, and not in front of them. If we have little other alternative but to pass in front of a motor vessel, we keep a safe distance – e.g. 3 miles separation in front of a cargo vessel moving at 15 knots is fine, but we keep much more separations from catamaran ferries moving at 40 knots! If in doubt, we call them on VHF to agree how we will pass each other.
- As fishing vessels tend to make erratic/random course changes, we keep a minimal separation of 1 mile with fishing vessels. We keep in mind that fishing vessels can troll long nets or miles-long floating lines, so by preference we cross in front of fishing vessels, giving them plenty of separation dependent on the speed they move at. If in doubt, we call them on VHF to agree how we will pass each other.
- Even when under sail, by preference we change course to keep a safe distance from cargo or fishing vessels, except if we have little maneuverability (e.g. when sailing under spinnaker, or in areas with very dense traffic). We keep in mind that e.g. a 200m long cargo vessel travelling at 20 knots has very limited maneuverability. If in doubt, we call them on VHF to agree how we will pass each other.
- Other sailing vessels, we can pass at 0.5 miles separation, or less, but the closer we pass other sailing vessels, the sharper we keep a look-out: Other sailing yachts might not pay attention, or not know/respect the collision rules,.. As such, we always have an “alternative/emergency maneuver” in our mind, to avoid “close calls”. If in doubt, we call them on VHF to agree how we will pass each other.
- Whenever in doubt, don’t be shy to call the other vessel on VHF to confirm (1) if they see us on AIS/radar and (2) how we will pass each other.

(10) Wear and tear on the boat

- The sunrise watch makes a tour of the vessel to inspect any wear and tear of the standing and running rigging, and to inspect the deck.
- The sunrise watch clears the deck of any flying fish or other bits (e.g. sea weed) and if need be (if fresh water is available), rinses the cockpit windows
- any bits and pieces which might have fallen off the rigging, any damage, wear-and-tear, or any points of (possible) shafing, is to be reported to the skipper.
- Nuts, bolts, rods or other hardware bits found on deck, can be a sign of an impeding larger problem, so do not take this lightly…

(11) Weather predictions

The skipper or first mate check weather predictions daily. Based on the predictions, the skipper can make changes in sail plan, course or overall passage plan.

And now for a slightly less “black-and-white” authoritarian advice. But still, just as important…

(12) “Everything has its place”

Or in other words: on a well-organized boat, “everything lives somewhere”. If everyone (especially guest crew) start “using stuff” (tools, cooking utensils, etc…), it is important to “put it back where you found it”.
It is frustrating to have to look through the entire boat to find the darned binoculars, the deck flashlight, or the darned can-opener. Or the preventer lines, which seem to keep on moving between different lazarettes etc..
From experience, I know, as the ocean passage goes on, crew often get more tired, and “the temper fuses” start to get shorter. Simple stuff like “Who did not put the cutting board back on its usual place?”, “why does the coffee jar keep on moving between cupboards?” can become a source of frustration.
But there is also a safety component: If the VHF handheld, the binoculars, the deck flashlight, the backup head torch, spare lines etc.. all have their dedicated place, we won’t lose time looking for them, when “things get hairy”.

(13) Cost sharing

- Agree with the skipper which costs will be shared amongst the crew, and how the common costs will be tracked. In the past, we had different agreements: on some boats, the crew agreed to share the marina fees and fuel, while on others, we did not. Do agree on forehand.
- Other common expenses, such as crew dinners and drinks, provisioning, communications’ (Starlink!) costs etc.. can be tracked via simple apps such as “Tricount”. Common crew expenses should be settled before any crew leaves the boat.

(14) Visitors

- For a yacht owner, his/her boat is his/her home. So, as crew, we need to take that into consideration when inviting other people onboard, while at anchor or in a marina.
- Agree with the skipper/owner, if it is ok to bring visitors aboard, even for a quick visit.

And now moving onto even less “black-and-white” advice.

“A well-fed crew, is a happy crew”. And the way meals are scheduled, prepared, and shared, is very often a reflection of the dynamics amongst a boat-crew…! It is important to agree, before the passage, when meals are prepared and who prepares them, as it often takes – dependent on the sea state – considerable effort to prepare meals on a rolling and pitching boat.

Here is my advice:

(15) Cooking

- Each day, one person (or a pair-of-persons in larger crews) is pre-appointed to cook the main meal of the day. This is typically the evening meal, preferably to served before sunset.
- If possible, we extract this person (or pair), called “the mother watch”, out of the normal sailing watch schedule for that day. E.g. with four crew, three crew can rotate and cover the 24h sailing watch cycle while one crew can be the mother watch without any sailing duties for that day.
- The mother watch can rotate day per day, with each crew, in turn, taking on the mother watch duties for a day.
- The mother watch is also responsible for cleaning the galley after the cooking: washing dishes, drying them and stowing everything away.
- If it is agreed that the evening meal is the “main meal” of the day, then breakfast and lunch (and anything in-between), can be prepared by anyone or as an additional task which the mother watch can take on.
- As the provisions on a boat are (always) limited in choice, it is preferred one crew is responsible for the overall provisions management. He/She will know what will need to be "used" first (we don't want to throw away too many left-overs, or fruits/vegggies/meat going off because it is not eaten in time). It is preferred, the mother watch checks with the person managing the provisions, what should be "used" first.
- As a courtesy to the crew on watch, and anyone awake at any time, if any of the crew makes breakfast or lunch, it is basic courtesy to check with the others on deck, on watch or awake, if they want breakfast or lunch too. It is not that much of an extra effort to throw in some extra eggs in the pan, or make some extra sandwiches, while you are preparing something for yourself.

I am open for more comments and suggestions, but in the mean time, I wish you a happy and safe ocean crossing!

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