Don't forget to look up!

T'was the season to cross the North Atlantic from east to west. It was mid-December and a good many, such as the Atlantic Rally for Cruisers participants, had already left, most having made their departure from the Canary Islands, and a few, like us, who made one last stop at the Cape Verde Islands.

Judy and I were in no particular hurry to leave on this passage to the Caribbean as the later in December, or even January, is typically the better time to cross.

So while in Mindelo of Sao Vicente Island, the second largest town of the Cape Verde Islands, we matched the pace of a slow clock while doing some last little boat jobs, topping up with provisions, and chatting with other sailors doing the same.

Colourful sailfish sculpture

It was interesting to meet the newbies to sailing and hear their nervous excitement as they prepared for their imminent departure for their first ocean crossing. As Judy and I have made numerous major passages, we were happy to assuage their worries, letting them know that this was historically one of the easiest crossings as the predictable and steady trade winds should usher them right along.

So, being as prepared as we could and with a forecast showing steady winds for the next week, we headed out.

Now there is a worthy adage, Don't forget to look up, and from experience we can say that a lapse in that exercise could cause the careless sailor problems, if not disaster.

One such incident occurred as we were leaving Borneo for Malaysia when for a period we had to beat into some pretty heavy wind and seas. Sea Turtle was taking a pounding that built an anxious tension in me and on the boat. I happened to look up and what I saw made me gasp! At the top fitting on our backstay I saw strands in the cable separating, signalling an imminent catastrophic failure. Immediate action saved the day but if I had not been cognizant of the importance of looking up, the outcome would have been much worse.

And so it was again while we were making our departure that exited us into a channel between two mountainous islands. We began with a fully deployed genoa, but as the winds accelerated in the gap, it required some furling. Just as I was about to do so, I looked up and noticed something peculiar near the top of the aluminum furling foil that is around the forestay. It was a dark spot on the shiny foil that shouldn't have been there. The foil is made in sections and they are joined with tiny set screws when installed with the rigging, making it as though it is one long continuous unit.

I quickly deduced that the upper joint had come loose and was separating with the top section of the foil slipping up to expose the dark connector backing inside.

At this point, the winds had whipped up to 30 knots and we were surfing the steep waves. I had to furl. However if the upper portion of the foil had slipped up the connector backing enough, the upper section wouldn't rotate with the lower, prohibiting furling.

Well I had no choice but to try. It held! I got a few wraps, wiped my brow, and continued.

But now what were we to do? We couldn't continue our passage as it was. The fix would require going up the mast but it was unimaginable to do that while pitching in open ocean seas with one hand holding tiny screws, the other the driver, reaching a way out while being whipped around like a rag doll. And fighting back up the channel in those waves and wind to return to the safety and calm of Mindelo's port was really out of the question.

Fortunately we weren't too far along that we couldn't get around to the back side of the next island, Santo Antao, and out of the churning blue for some degree of protection in the lee of the towering cliffs. We know there was a village in a slight indentation in the coastline where hopefully we could anchor and deal with it there.

We arrived and anchored in a blanket of darkness in a deep open roadstead, relieved that there was only a slight swell that rolled in.

In the morning, we woke to a stunning scene worthy of a King Kong setting. A spectacular canyon cradled a village that seemed lost and detached from the world outside. The only access was a narrow gravel road that switchbacked up into the clouds and over the top of the steep mountains to the other side. Their challenging ocean access reminded one of Pitcairn. No pier, just a ramp.

Mountainous profile

Vivid rudimentary village

The seas here were quite calm so up I went and fixed it quickly without too much trouble. It struck me though how the loss of a couple of wee screws could be so critical...

Critical repairs

...but more importantly it was a sobering reminder of the old and wise adage, Don't forget to look up!

Unplanned anchorage:
N16°57.323' W025°18.716' Dec 26 Santo Antao Island (Tarrafal)