#opentoadventure

Dreamin’ Big (and Taking Suggestions!) The whisper of wind through ancient pines, the crash of waves against rugged cliffs, the scent of salty air – the Pacific Coast is calling! And guess what? I’m answering with a road trip adventure of epic proportions. But here’s the twist: I want you, fellow wanderlusters, to be part of it! My map is unfurled, a blank canvas begging for the strokes of…

07/09/2016 Kristi writes:

We’ve been in a constant learning environment aboard SV Sensei over the last three weeks. When we left finally left Jacksonville after the hiccup with the propellor, we hoped nothing else would interrupt the big northbound plan to reach Lake Erie by mid August.

We had been making way along the ICW until early July when we saw an ideal weather window to make a significant jump north. The captain, John, was beginning to feel crunched for time and this 150 nautical mile stretch from the Port Royal Sound, SC to Cape Fear, NC would definitely put us ahead by a few days. My first instinct as a crew member that had not yet sailed this boat outside of inland waters was to question it being a wise idea to take Sensei out on a 24 hour, overnight passage. We had not even had the main sail up yet, only the jib a handful of times (motor sailing). I would have liked to spread her wings on a shorter run to see how well we all work together under full sail and test the state of her standing and running rigging. I was pretty much shot down by the excitement of the rest of the crew who were all eager to get on the outside and go sailing.

I was eager to go sailing and make some headway too, so I joined in on the excitement and let go of a decent amount of worry after Brad & I agreed that we would go get personal EPIRBs prior to this offshore venture. EPIRBs (Electronic Personal Radio Beacons) were an investment we had discussed getting more than once. We were after the ACR brand’s ResQLink device: buoyant and small enough to stow in the zipper pocket of our lifejackets, with a 66-channel GPS receiver and automatic strobe (when activated). In an emergency situation, whether you stay with the boat or drift away from it, you will be found. The West Marine store in Beaufort, SC, just so happened to have two ResQLink’s left in stock, and they each came with a $50 rebate. Score!

At 6:45 am on the morning of July 3rd, we woke up ready to get underway. Unfortunately, electrical problems slowed our embark time. During pre-checks, the red and green (port and starboard) steaming lights on the bow were found to be dysfunctional. Two hours later, John identified the loose connection and Brad helped him repair it. 

At 10:30 am, weather conditions were still looking good for the next 24 hours. NOAA forecasted seas 2-4 feet, winds out of the south blowing 10-15 knots, and a slight chance of thunderstorms, primarily subject to inland waterways. So, we pulled up anchor and started making way. Motoring into the wind, we didn’t clear the 3 mile channel marker of the Port Royal Sound until almost 2 pm. Half an hour later, we got the sails up and pointed our nose for Cape Fear, still another 24 hours away. Something about that length of time still didn’t sit well, and neither did I in the lumpy seas we headed into. Our point of sail was a rolling, broad reach off the starboard stern. A couple hours into our run, seas began to build under sustained 15-25 knot winds. Both sails had to be reefed significantly to reduce the area for wind to catch. Soon we were surfing 6-8 feet waves, the bow sometimes burying in the steep seas. My muscles tensed and whole body braced for hours. At one point we considered it might be dinner time but the last thing anyone (and their stomachs) wanted to do was go down below and spend any time in a rocking, stuffy galley. We stayed put in the cockpit and lived off a tin of Pringles. I tried not to drink a drop more than the water I needed to stay hydrated, just to avoid having to go below and use the head. These were not ideal sailing conditions.

Brad on the other hand, did not seem to mind as much as the rest of the crew. Although he got a little seasick from working down below at the start of the cruise (when we were beating into the wind and waves), after that passed he was enjoying the ride. He really wanted to stick to the plan and make it worthwhile. While I admired his determination and passion to keep on going, the bottom line wasn’t about comfort or progress anymore, it was about safety.

Around 4pm, Captain John made the call to change course and head into Charleston, which was the nearest and safest harbor to navigate into. This would cut our trip from 150 nautical miles to roughly 85, but still, we wouldn’t arrive until well after midnight at the 5-6 knot pace we were sailing.

At 7 pm, a beautiful sunset distracted me from the building waves for about 45 minutes. We even spotted a Loggerhead Turtle (we later found out to be South Carolina’s state reptile) swimming at the surface. As the sun sank below dramatic coastal thunderheads, a dark sky prompted the start of fireworks shows along the coast. Everyone sat quietly for several minutes as we took in the tiny bursts of lights that twinkled along the horizon. 

As predicted, at 12 am we started our 4th of July holiday nearing the channel into Charleston. Wind had conveniently picked up to 25-30 knots, creating waves reaching 10 feet. When we turned into the wind (and waves) to bring down the mainsail, there was difficulty stowing it because the batons got hung up 2/3 of the way down in the lazy jacks. The loose sail acted like a parachute and made it tough to steer. We had less than 3 miles to push along the channel to be in a safe harbor. It was the final stretch! We battled a fierce current and seemed to be going nowhere when suddenly, the engine died.

Remaining calm, John quickly consulted us all and we agreed that it was time to radio the Coast Guard. The engine would not restart so we dropped anchor at the edge of the channel and stayed in the cockpit, awaiting assistance.

The USCG arrived at approximately 2:30 am. When they asked us to raise the anchor so we could be towed, the windlass became non-functional and the anchor would not budge. John did not want to cut his anchor line, so Coast Guard spent the next two hours attempting to de-anchor us, to no avail, only creating a more dangerous situation.

While I was grateful that John took charge in heavy seas; handling anchor lines, tow-lines and bridles in the strong and determined capacity of a retired Navy Officer, I was getting frustrated that our captain was holding our safety second to retrieving his expensive anchor. We were all exhausted and could not continue running on pure adrenaline much longer. With morning light approaching, it was clear the odds of someone getting hurt were increasing by the second. Finally, John let go of his $4500 anchor plus over a hundred feet of chain. Cutting that line was not easy on him or Lisa, but it had to be done.

At 7 am, Boat Tow USA dropped us dockside at the Downtown Charleston Marina. Being a holiday, there were no mooring balls available so the MegaDock (for mega yachts) was our only option. The boat looked about as tired as we did, with sails not quite stowed and the cockpit in disarray. We would worry about that after we all got some rest.

Later in the day after we had all napped, it was time to sit down for a crew meeting over chicken noodle soup. We discussed how all of us gave the best we could amidst the various challenging circumstances that day, but eventually it was out of our hands. God clearly had something else in mind for the course of this trip. The culmination of everything that happened led John & Lisa to determine the boat was not ready to continue the journey north, and neither were they. The financial blow from losing their anchor was not the only reason. Our trip had also opened their eyes to a laundry list of little repairs and refits that needed to be taken care of prior to an ocean-going passage.

And so, John & Lisa made plans to turn Sensei around and head back to Jacksonville via the ICW, where they could focus on the necessary boat work. They welcomed us to come along and make the best of this trip. We’ve decided to go south with them for the remainder of the journey, unless we begin to feel we are no longer in a learning environment, then it will be time to move on.

The skills and knowledge we’ve acquired aboard Sensei have been countless, but perhaps one of the biggest take-home lessons so far has been to be open, flexible, and willing to let God steer this journey we are on. Being open to a change of course means allowing new doors to open for us. Now that our time aboard Sensei is being cut short, Brad & I are excited to figure out what adventures and opportunities lie ahead!