This boat moves. We have rarely dipped below seven knots, and at times we have been seeing eight knots or more. We are currently motor sailing on a close reach headed southeast towards Jost Van Dyke (is that a Painkiller I smell?) in fantastic conditions. The rolling ocean swells are about two to four feet, the bellies of our jib and main are full and we’re effortlessly flying along at seven knots. The sun is shining, and the wispy clouds look as if someone spread them across the sky with a butter knife. Again, we find ourselves alone out here and it’s beautiful.
Some of you might have noticed our SPOT tracker is not transmitting (at least it doesn’t appear to be on our end). We’re not sure why, but rest assured – we’re all doing great. Our only deviation came last night at sunset when we chose to alter course in order to skirt a monster squall that was about six miles long and three miles wide. This is where radar comes in handy (because we hardly use it otherwise): when we saw the foreboding clouds of the storm approaching we turned to our radar to tell us how close it was (it is very hard to visually calculate distances out here). After seeing it was three miles leeward of us and sailing alongside it for almost two hours without any significant difference in distance, we determined it was going in the same direction as we were. I suggested to Scott we turn around and pass it on the back end, which is exactly what we did. We came completely about, and for a good long while sailed in the exact opposite direction than we wanted to, but our avoidance tactic was successful. That’s the thing about squalls; sometimes they’re all bark and no bite – but other times they can pack a real punch in the form of winds in the 30-40 knot range, which – if you have been in those kind of winds – you know is no fun on a boat. We lost some ground going the way we went, but it’s always better to be safe than sorry in our opinion.
It’s true what they say, that after a couple days at sea you find your groove. We are getting in sync with the rhythm of the boat and the ocean. We all have our jobs yet work together like a well-oiled machine. It’s been a great ride and I think I can speak for all of us when I say we’re thoroughly enjoying ourselves out here. While I am very excited to make landfall after our longest passage yet, I think I might even miss being out sea a little bit. For someone who is usually very “connected,” it feels incredible to unplug and just be. I didn’t see that coming.
Closest Land Mass: Puerto Rico @ 150 NM away
When two people, with the same life long dream of sailing around the world find each other, there’s only one thing to do… make it happen!
Scott and Brittany departed in 2010 with big plans to “see the world” from the deck of their sailboat. After sailing from Chicago to Trinidad via the “thorny path”, they are now back at it with their first baby and second boat. Check out all the juice at .