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September 7th, 2009 – At Sea, Labrador Sea, 57 54N, 055 58W
by Herb McCormick and Mark Schrader
(Sept. 7): We know a few things we didn’t know yesterday. For example, we know the precise color of translucent blue atop a 15-foot wave at the precise moment it breaks in a rare patch of sun on the Labrador Sea. We understand what happens when our 64-foot yacht surfs down the front of a liquid Himalaya in a 45-knot gust and notches a best-ever speed of 17-knots. We realize how efficient our triple-reefed main and brand-new storm sail work in tandem in big wind and heavy seas. Heck, we’ve seen what it looks like when a fulmar flies backwards.
And today, unlike yesterday, we know the sensation of sailing south of the Arctic Circle and getting pasted by a high-latitude gale.
The title of this Labor Day log accurately reflects the state of affairs in the Labrador Sea and aboard Ocean Watch
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| It was as if a celestial giant overturned a pail of water and at the instant it went “splat” a lunar ray bathed it in unexpected luminance. |
as we continue to roar southward toward the highly anticipated Land of Oz, the island of Newfoundland. We almost called it “Moon Over Maelstrom,” a phrase uttered by my watch-mate Dave Logan last evening when the fur really started to fly. It’s difficult to describe the sea state at the time. It was if some celestial giant overturned a pail of water and at the instant it went “splat” on the sidewalk a lunar ray bathed it in unexpected luminance – moon over maelstrom, indeed.
There were other candidates, as well. Here’s some advice to young writers. Never, as I did yesterday, refer to an adventure you’re in the midst of with such platitudes as a “stirring sea journey.” If you do, you run the risk of setting yourself up for a fall, and contemplating quotes from the likes of James Bond when ordering his favorite beverage. Today’s title was very nearly a repeat of Bond’s classic request: “Shaken, Not Stirred.”
It all started, in fact, very shortly after writing yesterday’s log. The breeze swung into the south and freshened. And it continued to build. Then, the breeze radically shifted from southwest to northwest and freshened still. The confluence of the old and new wave trains was shocking. When Logan and I came on watch at three in the morning, David Thoreson greeted us thusly: “I have some good news and bad news. The good part is, it’s starting to get light. The bad is, you can see what’s going on.”
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| The long, powereful waves, flecked with white foam and occasionally breaking, were a sight to behold. |
By mid-morning, after the northwesterly had settled in a bit, the long, powerful waves, flecked with white foam and occasionally breaking, were a sight to behold. It’s been a day and night of firsts: First real gale, first time we’ve tucked a third reef in the mainsail, first time we’ve set the storm sail (yet another work of art from our friends and sail-makers at Port Townsend Sails). And, of course, our first Holiday Weekend at sea!
Speaking of which, here’s skipper Mark Schrader’s update on our lazy end-of-summer day on Ocean Watch:
“Very short Labor Day Log today.
“Gale conditions have been with us now for more than 24 hours. Our wind has clocked to the Northwest, now blowing Beaufort Force 8 (fresh gale 34-40), average seas 12′, numerous sets over 20′. Some seas are steep and breaking, others just spectacularly large. We’re currently broad reaching, taking wind and seas on the starboard aft quarter – at least that’s what we’re trying to do. Sometimes we get a little too broadside to the seas and lots of water comes aboard. Down below OW is warm and dry, on deck and in the cockpit she is wet, even with our great side curtains.
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| Captain Schrader negotiates the deck in stormy seas. |
“The Raymarine pilot does an excellent job of steering in these very difficult conditions. Our average boat speed for the past few hours has been well over 8 knots. Sustained speeds of 12-14 aren’t unusual. At the turn of the watch about an hour ago 44-ton Ocean Watch had a long ‘surfing’ speed of just over 17 knots!
“Most of last night the wind was still on our nose, so we sailed with 3 reefs in the main without a headsail – motor ticking along just to keep us pointed in the right direction. Early this morning DT, Harry and I set the storm staysail for the first time. This beautiful little Carol Hasse-built sail hanks on to the staysail stay, is sheeted on the inboard track and does a beautiful job of keeping us pointed in the right direction. We’re now rocketing with storm staysail, deeply reefed main and running hard in front of some formidable mountains of water.
“Forecast says we’ll have this for a couple of days. This is certainly a three to four strings on your hat day. Breakfast, lunch and dinner will be some variation of crackers and cheese. I’m finding it very difficult to hang on to the nav station seat and type at the same time. It’s time to strap myself in the bunk for a nap.
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| The Carol Hasse-built sail does a beautiful job of keeping us pointed in the right direction. |
“I’m happy to report that although we are all a little wide-eyed and slightly anxious by the size of the swells we’re otherwise warm, dry (mostly) and well. Ocean Watch handles these conditions very nicely. We’re making great time directly toward St. John’s. It’s fair to say a Labor Day picnic anywhere that isn’t moving, pitching or rolling sounds pretty fantastic to us. Enjoy the day – we’ll attempt to do the same.”
So, yes, here on Ocean Watch we know a few things we didn’t know yesterday. It makes one wonder: What in the world will we know tomorrow.
- Herb McCormick and Mark Schrader with photographs by David Thoreson
This crew log submitted by Iridium OpenPort and Stratos
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