5.30.06

Bahamas to Bermuda

It begins slowly. Waking up at 5:30 on a still morning before the sun can reveal the glassy water and sleepy anchorage. We eat breakfast and easily slip the lines tying Cénou to the dock with the innocence that makes the basis for such a journey. Four adults and two children each harboring their hopes, fears and memories look at the land going by while the twin hulls of Cénou, our life support, cocoon and safety, ripple the water quietly.

Two days later, just after sunset, land is hundreds of miles away, and Cénou moves effortlessly in perfect medium air conditions at a steady 9 to 10 knots. Olivier and I are on deck looking at the water rushing and hissing along the hulls. A gust comes and just as it seems we cannot go faster the boat races down a wave pushing harder in a display of pure power and steadiness. The lines holding the sails take in the effort with a short sharp sound while the wind rushes loudly along the sails that hold their shape of giant white wings against the growing darkness. Olivier and I need not saying anything, we both know that is the reason why we are here, looking at this seemingly limitless expense of water.

Meanwhile inside the lights are on and the girls are finishing a last game of Mancala, probably trouncing Matthew, our other crew member. He is at the point where he counts the times he has not been beaten by Celine and is determined to at least beat her one out of ten games. Rike has disappeared for the night. She is in bed reading. It is getting cool and I am looking forward to bed.

Olivier takes the first watch from 20:00 to 23:00, Matthew from 23:00 to 02:00, me from 02:00 to 05:00 and Rike gets the sunrise watch. We all get to wake up to Rike's breakfast.

And so the days (day watches are informal) and nights go by until the fourth morning when, as predicted, the wind starts turning against us, moving from a south west 10 to 15 knots (we are headed east) to a a south east and finally east 7 to 12 knots. The trip has been all too easy until then and so we have to work a little for our Bermuda landfall.

Now we know that we will stop in Bermuda because that east wind will build and turn north east. This creates a different mood in the boat and I hope that the building anticipation of the landfall is not outflanked by building easterlies. In fact the wind stays light and even clocks back to SSE (South South East), which lets us squeeze by into St. George Harbor in time for lunch after a 770 mile five day passage that saw us motor about three hours in total.

We all agree that this was one of the best passages we could hope for. Partly cloudy skies, favorable winds, gentle swells all made for unbeatable conditions.

Personally, having to stop in Bermuda was a great windfall because Christian, my friend of twenty years and brother I never had sailed in from St Thomas eight hours after us. Since we will not see each other for a couple of years the Bermuda rendez-vous was, and is, perfect.

So we are all well, crew, parents and children and are looking at out next weather window for Saturday with great anticipation.

All the best

Claude, Rike,Anouck Celine