CaptMurph: Bermuda: 4 Days, 705nm

Gil invited me to join his crew for the delivery of his Tayana 52, Freedom, to St. Martin by way of Bermuda.

He didn't make his invitation lightly. We met through my posting on a website offering to serve as crew for the Newport-Bermuda Race. After a couple hours in phone interviews, we then met for dinner in NYC. I caught up with Gil and Shai, a friend who races with Gil on the Hudson River and Upper New York Bay. They race on J24s as members of a small club, the Manhattan Yacht Club (not to be confused with the NYYC), based near the fallen World Trade Center towers. The wait for Shai and Gil was comfortable as I shucked my tie (I'd been working earlier) and sipped a beer in their floating clubhouse tied up in the North Cove Yacht Harbor (the club is no longer at that location). After meeting Shai, he left Gil and I as we went to see Gil's wife and enjoy dinner at a nearby restaurant where we'd interview each other. It was a mutual agreement, as I had no more interest in sailing with a less than competent captain, than Gil had taking on less than competent crew. We decided we'd be great together and I was accepted as crew!

As it is usual to wait for the end of the hurricane season, Gil set our earliest departure date for November 1, but advised that we would wait for a good weather "window" so we'd get several good days at sea. The delivery sail to St. Martin would take about two weeks, but when allowing for weather delays, I would have to plan on being away from work for almost a month. Since I couldn't stay away that long, Gil agreed to take me on as crew from NY to Bermuda. There, another crew member would fly in to take my spot from Bermuda to St. Martin.

Freedom under sail in the Caribbean

The crew was invited for a day of sailing aboard Freedom on Long Island Sound in October as a way to get to know each other and the boat. We sailed out of Oyster Bay where Freedom was moored and took turns at the various jobs we'd be handling enroute to Bermuda. It was a nice day for sailing as we harnessed the 15 knot breeze to haul us back and forth across Long Island Sound. We only spent a few hours, but it was great to meet everyone and literally "learn the ropes."

At the end of October I boarded the train for NYC and enjoyed Pennsylvania's autumn colors. Since I fly thousands of miles every month for work, it was a pleasure to travel by train, especially as we passed through the famous "Horseshoe Curve" in central Pennsylvania.

Famous "Horseshoe Curve," just west of Altoona

View from midway through the "Horseshoe Curve"

I stayed the night in NYC with my brother, Russell, then early the next morning caught a cab for my ride to Freedom on Oyster Bay. We helped with some last minute errands, stowed our gear on board and discussed the latest weather reports. Although it would be freezing cold on November 2nd, Gil decided that it was best that we sail immediately as a strong weather system was forming over Texas and was forecast to clobber anyone at sea about a week from now.

Wing and wing, sailing eastward the length of Long Island Sound

We departed about 6am with ice on deck, dressed in our ski bibs and parkas with knit caps keeping our heads warm. Freedom has no heating aboard, so our only warmth came from bundling in layers. As we sailed eastward toward "The Race" we noticed a couple other cruising yachts who were also likely to be headed south, given the forecast and end of hurricane season.

That's the Amel, far distant and astern, inside the red circle.

Hence Gil's smile!

Gil was quick to identify a larger (60ft?) Amel departing from a nearby bay on Long Island. As my sailing friends know, whenever two sailboats are heading the same direction, you have a RACE! We kept a wary eye on them for the entire sail eastward, until later in the day Gil finally declared "Victory" as the Amel dwindled out of sight astern.

Shai

Murray

Our crew for this leg included Shai, Gil's friend in the MYC whom I met earlier that fall in NYC, when I interviewed for this trip.

Our fourth crew was Murray, our resident "Kiwi," (New Zealander) and professional sailor. He was Gil's paid employee who lived in a private cabin aboard "Freedom" and did routine maintenance work to keep her looking great and operating properly.

I was very fortunate to be assigned the 4 to 8 watch. Gil's watch schedule was to have his three crew rotate the watch, 4 hours on then 8 hours off. Gil served as Captain, cook and standby for watch, if any of us could not stand his watch. This schedule gave everyone plenty of time to relax and sleep so we'd be fresh when it was our watch. What made me so pleased to have the 4 - 8 watch is that meant I was on watch for every sunrise and sunset! I wouldn't miss any of them!

Our first day was spent traversing Long Island Sound, handling the currents at "The Race", then, after dark, rounding Montauk Point and heading southsoutheast directly towards Bermuda.

As luck would have it, we ran into a squall late that first night. I was sleeping soundly when I awoke to "All hands on deck!" I threw on a sweatshirt and quickly clambered up the companionway ladder to see what was needed. As it turns out, we had three sails flying, the main, full jib and staysail. With the sudden surprise of the squall, it was necessary to reduce sail by reefing the main and jib and lowering the staysail entirely.

The watch crew and Gil already had the mainsail reefed by the time myself and the other off-watch crew arrived in the cockpit. The staysail and jib are both roller-furled, so managing them was rather simple. Knowing I was scheduled for the next watch and that all three of the others would be too tired to stay up after the "All Hands," I suggested to Gil that I

Sunrise our first morning at sea, no land in sight

should leave the rest of the work to the three of them and make sure I was well-rested for my watch, only a few hours away. He agreed and I returned to my bunk while the three of them wrestled the jib and staysail out of harm's way. About 3:30am I was up for my watch and the three happily turned the helm over to me as they headed below to their respective berths for some well-deserved respite.

Sunset for the evening watch

The squall was long past by the time I took the watch. Since the autopilot did most of the steering, the watch crew's primary job is to inspect everything to be sure we catch problems before they cause serious trouble. Preventing chafe is a major item, but I also used my walk around the deck as an wonderful opportunity to enjoy the gorgeous sunrises and sunsets.

I was only seasick briefly after eating something that disagreed with me. Gil proved to be a great cook, as I enjoyed every meal but the one and the rest of the crew truly enjoyed all the meals, even the one I couldn't handle.

Unfortunately, Murray took ill for a day or so, but as Gil was standby crew, all worked fine as Gil stood in for Murray until he was feeling better.

Fortunately we experienced gentle conditions for the balance of the trip. We motorsailed so "Freedom" would maintain a fast speed, ensuring our arrival in Bermuda before the rough weather reached us. When the wind was lighter our VMG would drop to 6 or 7 knots, but we often made 7 to 9 knots. Of course we adjusted course to deal with the Gulf Stream currents and eddies, but the wind never seemed to be on the nose.

The waves were sizable (Gil and I estimated them to be 10-14 feet) but were so long (100 yards?) that we barely noticed the boat's rising and falling, it was so gradual. As ocean-going sailors know, these were merely very long and easily managed swells. In the troughs, the peaking water on either side was above our heads, but soon we'd emerge on top of the swell with a vista that seemed to go forever.

Sunrise the third day at sea

Less than midway into the trip we crossed the Gulf Stream for a sudden change from gray-green water to brilliant blue and from 50F sea temperature to 70F. We stripped to t-shirts and shorts, the ski gear disappeared for the rest of the adventure.

During one of my watches mid-trip it dawned on me that we were over 300nm to the closest land (the Delaware coast?) and over 300nm to both our starting and ending waypoints. In anticipation of this trip I had a mild concern that I might not like ocean sailing. And if I suddenly felt that I needed to leave the boat, what would I do?

Sunset third day

Thankfully, I felt the opposite. As I sat in the cockpit enjoying the endless skies and seas, it dawned on me that the only reason I wanted this experience to end was that we were racing that storm to our next port. Otherwise, I was content for this to continue indefinitely!

Each day at sea Gil warmed up the single sideband radio to check in with Herb Hilgenberg. His call sign was also the name of his own yacht, "Southbound II." Gil and many other yachts sailing south would tune in to Herb's weather forecast, update him and anyone listening to our position, status

Shai and Gil enjoying the semitropical weather south of the Stream

and local weather. Then Herb would suggest specific routing for each vessel given his expected weather for that boat's expected route. (Herb's service was discontinued in 2013 after providing 25 years of vessel-specific forecasting and weather routing.) Thanks to Gil's decision to depart well ahead of the coming weather, Herb never needed to suggest we depart from our planned route. But he did encourage us to maintain our speed so that we could expect to make port safely ahead of the brewing storm.

Brilliant blue replaces the gray-green we experienced further north

Later Tuesday evening we could see the lights of Bermuda. The islands were not yet visible, but we knew they would be by morning. Towards the end of my watch on Wednesday morning, I was surprised as Gil suggested I stay at the helm and take Freedom through the channel into the harbor at St. George's. Even though I'd landed my own boat many times as well as numerous others, I'd never handled Gil's yacht in close quarters before. I was thrilled and accepted the challenge. We entered through the same channel that the cruise ships follow, but that didn't help. It struck me that the large ships using this harbor entrance must slick their hulls with Vaseline to slide

Sunrise our last full day at sea

safely into port! It seemed a tight fit for us and I just couldn't imagine an 800 feet long cruise ship navigating this same waterway. I kept a close eye on the navigation aids, the depth sounder and the chart. Of course, it really wasn't a big deal, but Gil could have taken the helm himself or turned it over to Shai or Murray. I was honored he picked me.

Freedom and crew covered the 705nm in 4 days and two hours given our 8am arrival in St. George's.

Sunset, Tuesday, November 5, 2002

We dropped anchor in a spot selected by Gil and ran a 7:1 scope of rode out to his oversize anchor. Given the season, it wasn't surprising to see many other yachts in the natural harbor and also close by our chosen anchoring location. It was important to be certain the anchor was well-set since the forecasted storm was expected late that night.

The storm was not a surprise, but it was intense. Our onboard anemometer read as high as 48 knots and that was within the protected harbor. Freedom's all-chain rode was stretched bar-taut. SO much so that our dinghy

Freedom at anchor in St. George's Harbour

trailing off the stern was in danger of fouling the anchor rode of the vessel behind us. While there was maybe 50 feet between our two boats after we set our anchor, with all the chain lifted arrow-straight off the bottom adding the dinghy behind us put us too close. We hauled in the dinghy until it was nearly touching the transom and even then the tender was clearing the aft vessel's anchor line by only a couple feet. Although the wind in the rigging was loudly whistling and everything aboard seemed to be banging and bouncing, we finally slept.

In the morning and all day long other yachts began to arrive in the harbor, all looking much worse for the wear. Later we heard from another crew that one of their team had suffered a broken arm from being tossed across their cabin below. Apparently, the weather reached full storm status (according to the Beaufort Scale) blowing over 50 knots on the open ocean around Bermuda. We were very thankful for Gil's weather decisions to get us into St. George's as quickly as he did.

50 ft Swan drying their foulies after the storm

My return flight to Pittsburgh was planned to allow for a later departure and longer trip, if the weather had dictated something different than actually took place. So I played tourist in Bermuda for several days as my flight home was scheduled for a week after our arrival. Here are some photos from my time in Bermuda.