Saturday, 5 September 2009, with color and context added
More of the same. But at least the sky was mostly clear. The moon wasessentially full and provided nice visibility at night. At 0400 the windshad freshened to more than 25 knots but had veered sufficiently that we wereable to sail the course on a close reach. It was quite bouncy as*Maryam*slammed into the waves and water came rolling down the deck.At 0710 a notesays "Jolt falling off wave triggered the 12 volt alarm, and the B&Ginstruments reset. Is there an incipient short?" (This question has not beenresolved as I write, but it has faded in seeming importance.)
We were also out of water. *Maryam* has two water tanks, each of which holds100 gallons. They are molded to the inside of the hull on either side of themast. The pickup for the fresh water pump is at the deepest part of each tank, the part closest to the center of the boat. We usually close one tankand run off the other until it is empty. That way we know when we have usedhalf of the water. Excessive heeling can foil this technique. When we haveused 1/4th of the water in one tank and it becomes the leeward tank withsignificant heeling, the water runs to the side and the pickup point is nolonger under water. The solution is to switch to the windward tank. We hadhad to switch tanks when we tacked on Wednesday. Now the port tank was emptyand, when we switched back to the starboard one, it seemed empty also. Wehad plenty of drinking water in bottles, but not having fresh water to cookand wash with is troubling. Needless to say, this led to lots of talk aboutwho used up all the water. Unhelpfully, I told of my being 17 days at seagoing from Tortola to the Azores and not using up the water in these sametwo tanks.
Around 1800 we spotted a massive iceberg in the far distance. We had notseen ice since 100 miles out of Prins Christian Sund. All of that ice hadbeen from the east coast of Greenland and was carried south by the East Greenland Current. The water temperature of that current is about 0°C inAugust. This massive iceberg originated from a glacier on the west coast of Greenland and was carried here by the Labrador Current.
The September temperature of the Labrador current is 6°C, warmer than Greenland but stillquite cold. The Labrador Current continues to flow south and is the reasonthe water in Maine and around Martha's Vineyard is so cold even in thesummer.
By midnight the wind had veered to the point that we were on a beam reach, generally a comfortable point of sail.
Showing posts with label Bev Head Blog. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bev Head Blog. Show all posts
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Captain's Log - Sunday, 6 September 2009
Sunday, 6 September 2009, with color and context added
Sailing east or west, especially in high latitudes, causes one to changetime zones frequently. It can be difficult even to tell what time zone oneis in. Whether daylight savings is observed adds to the confusion. Therefore Universal Time Coordinated (UTC) is often used aboard ships. Our position reports to Greenland Command were at 0000, 0600, 1200 and 1800 UTC for instance.
My note for 0900 UTC says, "Sun born right out of the sea to the east. Almost no clouds. Moon 20° above the horizon to the west, still virtually full. GORGEOUS MORN." And at 1000, "Land Ho!" We could see the mountains of Labrador in the far distance. By 1140 the wind had backed south such that we were on a close reach, but as the seas were not high, it was not unpleasant. At 1230 I reported our entrance into Canadian waters to the Canadian Coast Guard. At 1400 I reported our position, course, speed and destination to the Straight of Belle Isle Traffic Control center via the VHF radio. Canada takes significant precautions to minimize the chance of shipping accidents in narrow waterways. Ships in these waterways have to monitor specific VHF channels and have to report in at designated spots.
By 1600 we were south of the island of Belle Isle and into the straight that bears its name and separates Newfoundland island from Labrador. Time was pressing on us now. The trip across the Labrador sea had taken a day longer than it should have. And we were more than a month behind the schedule I had hoped for last May. Moreover, I was trying to get David and Delphine to an appointment with the US Consul in Halifax. Though both had been to the US, neither had visas. As citizens of Sweden and France, they could enter without a visa under the "Visa Waiver Program," but only if they were on a common carrier, like an airplane. Ridiculously, to enter aboard *Maryam*, they had to have a visa. The penalties were potentially high. I had been told that if I brought them in without a visa, *Maryam* could be seized. To get a visa, one had to pay lots of money, fill out lots of papers with idiotic questions like "List everywhere you have been in the past 15 years," and have a face-to-face interview at an American Consul.
Getting an appointment is often quite a challenge. To get an appointment for Trond in Norway before we left, Senator Sessions' office had to request it. Fortunately, our crew now included retired Foreign Service Officer Al Erlandsen. With his assistance, David & Delphine had gotten an appointment, and I did not want for them to miss it. Taking the Viking Route from Norway to North America, I had wanted to stop in L'Anse aux Meadows, just east of the northern tip on Newfoundland. TheVikings made a settlement there 1000 years ago. (See:http://www.pc.gc.ca/eng/lhn-nhs/nl/meadows/natcul/saga.aspx) It is their western-most settlement yet discovered, the first European settlement in North America, and it would have been a fitting spot for us to spend a day or so. Alas, those days were no longer available, so we pressed on into the Straight of Belle Isle, motoring now as the wind was on the nose.
The current was also against us and it was rough, slow going. But we had successfully crossed the Labrador Sea without a significant incident. At 600 miles, we had just finished the longest leg of our trip.
Captain's Log - Friday, 4 September 2009
Friday, 4 September 2009
More of the same, only it seemed worse because we were getting tired. Sleeping is difficult when the boat is heeling and smashing into the waves. One gets worn down. To make better progress, we tried lots of different things, all mostly to only small avail. For all of Friday, we made 13 miles, better than Thursday, but well below our target of 156 (6.5 knot average). That it was better rather than worse is due to the talents of David Johnson, the Swedish photographer who has done a lot of open-water racing in Australia. David is probably the best at setting and trimming sails that I've ever had on *Maryam*. I've learned a lot from him.
The excessive healing and pitching caused a lot of water to accumulate inside along the port side of the boat. Water would occasionally come over the floor of the galley. It had picked up a little oil, which made for a very slippery floor and constant cleaning with detergent.
More of the same, only it seemed worse because we were getting tired. Sleeping is difficult when the boat is heeling and smashing into the waves. One gets worn down. To make better progress, we tried lots of different things, all mostly to only small avail. For all of Friday, we made 13 miles, better than Thursday, but well below our target of 156 (6.5 knot average). That it was better rather than worse is due to the talents of David Johnson, the Swedish photographer who has done a lot of open-water racing in Australia. David is probably the best at setting and trimming sails that I've ever had on *Maryam*. I've learned a lot from him.
The excessive healing and pitching caused a lot of water to accumulate inside along the port side of the boat. Water would occasionally come over the floor of the galley. It had picked up a little oil, which made for a very slippery floor and constant cleaning with detergent.
Captain's Log - Thursday, 3 September 2009
Thursday, 3 September 2009
More of the same, that is wind on the nose with uncomfortable seas. At 0400 we started the main engine and motor-sailed about 30° off our intended course. By late afternoon we gave up trying to motor-sail. We rolled up the sails and just motored. We made only 112 miles that day, an average of less than five knots. A day neither pleasant nor productive.
More of the same, that is wind on the nose with uncomfortable seas. At 0400 we started the main engine and motor-sailed about 30° off our intended course. By late afternoon we gave up trying to motor-sail. We rolled up the sails and just motored. We made only 112 miles that day, an average of less than five knots. A day neither pleasant nor productive.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Monday, 31 August 2009, with color and context added:
For such a glorious day, it started badly enough. We had spent the night tied up at the Weather/Communications Station, Prins Christian Sund, Greenland. The totally ruined jetty was in the process of being replaced/repaired. A 30’ old red steel cabin cruiser belonging to the contractor fixing the jetty was tied up at the corner of the pilings which form the edge of the new jetty. We had tied up five feet outside of the red boat with lines to the other corner of the pilings, to shore off the port bow, to a rock just off shore aft, and to the red boat. This is only possible in very settled conditions, no wind, no waves. To get ashore, we had to pull Maryam close to the red boat, climb aboard it, then down to a floating platform, up a ladder, then along an I-beam welded to the top of the pilings. The Communications Station is up 283 steps, in the saddle of several hills where communications towers are situated. The station provides a vital communications link for the 200 airplanes per day flying between North America and Europe.
We had spent Sunday afternoon at the station and needed to go back Monday morning to get an updated weather report for the six-day trip to Newfoundland. Sunday night Al had suggested that I was not up to the 283-step climb, but Monday morning I was the only one awake at 0730 local. So I decided to take the computer up the hill for the internet connection to download a new weather forecast. Fortunately, I put the computer in Al’s new waterproof 66° North bag bought in Iceland. I pulled Maryam up next to the red boat and started to step over. Just as I got my feet on the red boat, I lost control of the line holding Maryam close to it. The boats quickly separated and I found myself with my feet on the red boat and my hands on Maryam. Then I was hanging from Maryam’s lifeline. Then I was in the sub-zero water shouting HELP.
Al came on deck to throw me a line. After a little coaxing, he lengthened the line sufficiently for me to tie a bowline (non-slip knot) with the line under my arms. As Al and Trond started to try to lift me, the contractor brought the float around to the space between the boats and I was able to get on it. Even though the water was below 0°C, it was neither shocking nor painful. I was in the water for a few minutes and in my wet clothes outside for maybe five minutes more, but I never felt that I was losing my wits nor the use of any faculties. It was also not painful. In fact I had no great sensation of being especially cold. Trond had come on deck straight from his bed clad only in his underwear briefs. As I lay in the water looking at him, I thought, “Strange, he looks colder than I feel.” Getting into the pool in St Barths has felt colder, probably due to anticipation. In the end the major losses were to my pride and my iPhone. Al’s 66° North bag worked perfectly. Also noteworthy was the difference between the woolen clothes and the cotton ones: when wet wool continues to provide good insulation; cotton the opposite. I attribute some of my lack of feeling cold to my Marino woolen underwear and new Dale of Norway sweater bought in Bergen specially for the trip .
Trond took the computer up the hill and got a new forecast which indicated a safe, albeit moderately rough passage to Newfoundland. We departed at 1000 local for a glorious trip through Prins Christian Sund, the sound across the south end of Greenland. Our first diversion was into a small fjord on the north side of the sound called Sermeq Kujatdleg with a glacier at the end. We frolicked there for a couple of hours. Trond went on a small iceberg for pictures and the experience. We put a small ice floe into the freezer for use with rum and tonic in the Caribbean. We sailed through ice pieces up close to the edge of the glacier where we tried to provoke a major calving by shooting the flare gun. The sound produced a few minor calves, but not the big one. We celebrated by toasting the crew of Maryam with a small gin on glacier ice.
Our next task was to replenish the water. We thought we could put the bow directly under a large waterfall at the side of the fjord, but a couple of rocks appeared to block the way. So we put Trond ashore with a long line. He tied it to a big rock, led it around a point and we tied it to the bow as a spring line. By keeping the engine in gear, I was able to hold the boat quite steady while Trond secured the hose in a small stream close to the big waterfall. We filled both tanks and, with buckets of water from the stream as it fell into the sea, we washed Maryam’s decks.
Prins Christian Sund (PCS) is about 50 miles long. From the east, where we entered, it lies east-west. It is less than 1/2 mile wide with mountains on either side rising as high as 1800 meters. The eastern end is impassable to non icebreakers until late July. We saw many bergs but had no trouble navigating. PCS is quite deep, but there is one relatively shallow (70 meters) section about 20 miles in called Qornoq. One must transit this at slack tide; otherwise the current can be swift and occasionally dangerous. We caught the tail end of the slack at high tide and got a nice lift as we proceeded west on the ebb.
About 30 miles in is a crossroads with a large fjord to the north and several outlets to the south. There is also a small natural harbor with a jetty to which we could tie by overhanging both bow and stern. We spent Monday night there so we could stock up at the local store and so we could complete the PCS transit in daylight. The name of the village is Augpilagtoq, I counted about 50 homes, but I think some of these were abandoned. Probably 150 people live there. As we entered, the kids came running, and then a few adult Inuits appeared. One spoke a few words of English and more Danish (Greenland is still officially part of Denmark). Danish is sufficiently close to Norwegian and Swedish that we were able to communicate a little. We learned that the 40’ Japanese sail boat we had seen on Sunday (the only boat of size we saw in PCS and the only sailboat in Greenland) had spent the previous week tied up there awaiting good weather for a crossing to Iceland. Augpilagtoq has no bar, but one house was having a wild party with Cajun music audible from more then 100 meters away. We met and exchanged pleasantries with one quite drunk older woman walking home from a smaller gathering at another house. We closed the evening on Maryam with Famous Grouse Scotch and glacier water accompanied by microwave popcorn.
For such a glorious day, it started badly enough. We had spent the night tied up at the Weather/Communications Station, Prins Christian Sund, Greenland. The totally ruined jetty was in the process of being replaced/repaired. A 30’ old red steel cabin cruiser belonging to the contractor fixing the jetty was tied up at the corner of the pilings which form the edge of the new jetty. We had tied up five feet outside of the red boat with lines to the other corner of the pilings, to shore off the port bow, to a rock just off shore aft, and to the red boat. This is only possible in very settled conditions, no wind, no waves. To get ashore, we had to pull Maryam close to the red boat, climb aboard it, then down to a floating platform, up a ladder, then along an I-beam welded to the top of the pilings. The Communications Station is up 283 steps, in the saddle of several hills where communications towers are situated. The station provides a vital communications link for the 200 airplanes per day flying between North America and Europe.
We had spent Sunday afternoon at the station and needed to go back Monday morning to get an updated weather report for the six-day trip to Newfoundland. Sunday night Al had suggested that I was not up to the 283-step climb, but Monday morning I was the only one awake at 0730 local. So I decided to take the computer up the hill for the internet connection to download a new weather forecast. Fortunately, I put the computer in Al’s new waterproof 66° North bag bought in Iceland. I pulled Maryam up next to the red boat and started to step over. Just as I got my feet on the red boat, I lost control of the line holding Maryam close to it. The boats quickly separated and I found myself with my feet on the red boat and my hands on Maryam. Then I was hanging from Maryam’s lifeline. Then I was in the sub-zero water shouting HELP.
Al came on deck to throw me a line. After a little coaxing, he lengthened the line sufficiently for me to tie a bowline (non-slip knot) with the line under my arms. As Al and Trond started to try to lift me, the contractor brought the float around to the space between the boats and I was able to get on it. Even though the water was below 0°C, it was neither shocking nor painful. I was in the water for a few minutes and in my wet clothes outside for maybe five minutes more, but I never felt that I was losing my wits nor the use of any faculties. It was also not painful. In fact I had no great sensation of being especially cold. Trond had come on deck straight from his bed clad only in his underwear briefs. As I lay in the water looking at him, I thought, “Strange, he looks colder than I feel.” Getting into the pool in St Barths has felt colder, probably due to anticipation. In the end the major losses were to my pride and my iPhone. Al’s 66° North bag worked perfectly. Also noteworthy was the difference between the woolen clothes and the cotton ones: when wet wool continues to provide good insulation; cotton the opposite. I attribute some of my lack of feeling cold to my Marino woolen underwear and new Dale of Norway sweater bought in Bergen specially for the trip .
Trond took the computer up the hill and got a new forecast which indicated a safe, albeit moderately rough passage to Newfoundland. We departed at 1000 local for a glorious trip through Prins Christian Sund, the sound across the south end of Greenland. Our first diversion was into a small fjord on the north side of the sound called Sermeq Kujatdleg with a glacier at the end. We frolicked there for a couple of hours. Trond went on a small iceberg for pictures and the experience. We put a small ice floe into the freezer for use with rum and tonic in the Caribbean. We sailed through ice pieces up close to the edge of the glacier where we tried to provoke a major calving by shooting the flare gun. The sound produced a few minor calves, but not the big one. We celebrated by toasting the crew of Maryam with a small gin on glacier ice.
Our next task was to replenish the water. We thought we could put the bow directly under a large waterfall at the side of the fjord, but a couple of rocks appeared to block the way. So we put Trond ashore with a long line. He tied it to a big rock, led it around a point and we tied it to the bow as a spring line. By keeping the engine in gear, I was able to hold the boat quite steady while Trond secured the hose in a small stream close to the big waterfall. We filled both tanks and, with buckets of water from the stream as it fell into the sea, we washed Maryam’s decks.
Prins Christian Sund (PCS) is about 50 miles long. From the east, where we entered, it lies east-west. It is less than 1/2 mile wide with mountains on either side rising as high as 1800 meters. The eastern end is impassable to non icebreakers until late July. We saw many bergs but had no trouble navigating. PCS is quite deep, but there is one relatively shallow (70 meters) section about 20 miles in called Qornoq. One must transit this at slack tide; otherwise the current can be swift and occasionally dangerous. We caught the tail end of the slack at high tide and got a nice lift as we proceeded west on the ebb.
About 30 miles in is a crossroads with a large fjord to the north and several outlets to the south. There is also a small natural harbor with a jetty to which we could tie by overhanging both bow and stern. We spent Monday night there so we could stock up at the local store and so we could complete the PCS transit in daylight. The name of the village is Augpilagtoq, I counted about 50 homes, but I think some of these were abandoned. Probably 150 people live there. As we entered, the kids came running, and then a few adult Inuits appeared. One spoke a few words of English and more Danish (Greenland is still officially part of Denmark). Danish is sufficiently close to Norwegian and Swedish that we were able to communicate a little. We learned that the 40’ Japanese sail boat we had seen on Sunday (the only boat of size we saw in PCS and the only sailboat in Greenland) had spent the previous week tied up there awaiting good weather for a crossing to Iceland. Augpilagtoq has no bar, but one house was having a wild party with Cajun music audible from more then 100 meters away. We met and exchanged pleasantries with one quite drunk older woman walking home from a smaller gathering at another house. We closed the evening on Maryam with Famous Grouse Scotch and glacier water accompanied by microwave popcorn.Monday, September 7, 2009
In Sea of Labrador Currents Prove Challenging
We've made it through Prins Christian Sund and we are now crossing the Sea of Labrador on our way to Newfoundland. The headwinds and currents are unexpectedly strong and we are now a day behind schedule.From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Labrador Sea between Greenland and Labrador
Labrador Sea (French: mer du Labrador) (60°00'N, 55°00'W) is an arm of the North Atlantic Ocean between Labrador and Greenland.
Water depths in the center of Labrador Sea are around 3.3 km (2 mi)[1] and it is flanked by continental shelves to the southwest, northwest, and northeast. It connects to the north with Baffin Bay through the Davis Strait.[2]
The Labrador Sea probably formed by sea-floor spreading that started around 61 million years ago and stopped about 40 million years ago. There is an earlier history of basin formation on all margins.
During the ice age, the North American ice sheet repeatedly collapsed sending armadas of icebergs into Labrador Sea. Rocks that melted from the icebergs today form a layer of drop stones (glacial erratics) on the bottom of Labrador Sea.
One of the world's largest turbidite channels runs N-S in the middle of Labrador Sea. Turbidite avalanches run down this channel for many hundreds of kilometers, many of them ending in very deep water off New England.
The Labrador Sea is the source of the North Atlantic Deep Water, a cold, highly saline water that forms in the Labrador Sea and flows at great depth along the western edge of the North Atlantic, spreading out to form the largest identifiable water mass in the World Ocean.
Monday, August 31, 2009
Maryam is following the Viking Route
Following is what I left in the Guest Book of the Communications Station which we visited Sunday afternoon:
Maryam is following the Viking Route from Bergen, Norway, to the US.
We left Bergen on 3 August and have stopped in Torshavn, Faroe Islands; Westman Islands and Reykjavik, Iceland; and Tasiilaq, Greenland. From here we hope to transit PCS and to cross to Newfoundland, then through the Straight of Belle Isle to Halifax and the US. We spent two comfortable nights in the anchorage just north of here as a storm (50 knot winds, 10 meter waves) raged outside.
Maryam is a 52' GRP sloop built by Hank Hinckley in 1982. Her hailing port is Birmingham, Alabama, the hometown of the captain and owner, Beverly Head.
The five crew include two Americans, a Norwegian, a Swede and his French girlfriend. The first mate is Trond Hjertø, a Norwegian on his third Atlantic crossing, whom the captain met in Ulsteinvik, Norway, where Maryam was prepared for the voyage. Al Erlandsen is a retired Foreign Service Officer from Seattle. He has a wooden sail boat there.Al contacted the captain through a mutual acquaintance, Larry Luce, who helped prepare Maryam. The Swede, David Johnson, is a professional photographer who has raced extensively in Australia.
Delphine Monnier, is from La Plaine sur Mer on the Bay of Biscay. She is a recent graduate of Nantes University where she studied integrated marine management of coastal areas. David and Delphine learned of the voyage from the captain's posting with the New York Yacht Club, which is his club.
We salute the staff here at the Communications and are quite grateful for their generous hospitality.
Maryam is following the Viking Route from Bergen, Norway, to the US.
We left Bergen on 3 August and have stopped in Torshavn, Faroe Islands; Westman Islands and Reykjavik, Iceland; and Tasiilaq, Greenland. From here we hope to transit PCS and to cross to Newfoundland, then through the Straight of Belle Isle to Halifax and the US. We spent two comfortable nights in the anchorage just north of here as a storm (50 knot winds, 10 meter waves) raged outside.
Maryam is a 52' GRP sloop built by Hank Hinckley in 1982. Her hailing port is Birmingham, Alabama, the hometown of the captain and owner, Beverly Head.
The five crew include two Americans, a Norwegian, a Swede and his French girlfriend. The first mate is Trond Hjertø, a Norwegian on his third Atlantic crossing, whom the captain met in Ulsteinvik, Norway, where Maryam was prepared for the voyage. Al Erlandsen is a retired Foreign Service Officer from Seattle. He has a wooden sail boat there.Al contacted the captain through a mutual acquaintance, Larry Luce, who helped prepare Maryam. The Swede, David Johnson, is a professional photographer who has raced extensively in Australia.
Delphine Monnier, is from La Plaine sur Mer on the Bay of Biscay. She is a recent graduate of Nantes University where she studied integrated marine management of coastal areas. David and Delphine learned of the voyage from the captain's posting with the New York Yacht Club, which is his club.
We salute the staff here at the Communications and are quite grateful for their generous hospitality.
Prins Christian Sund - Storm
Maryam is currently tied up very uneasily to an almost completely ruined jetty at the weather/communication station at the eastern entrance to PCS. We arrived PCS from Tasiilaq Friday morning just ahead of a big storm. The harbor here was totally unsuitable for riding out the storm. However, as we knew, PCS has many fine anchorages. We just spent 2 very comfortable nights at one on the north side of the eastern entrance. The winds outside were 50 knots with 10 meter waves. At our anchorage winds were 25¨to 35 knots but, as we were anchored right up next to the head, no waves. Good holding, a splendid anchorage.The passage from Tasillaq here was fine with a lot of excellent downwind sailing in 25 knot winds. With the south flowing current we made good time, which we needed to do to beat the storm we knew was coming.
After 2 days of very rough weather, today is gorgeous -- one of the nicest all year so I'm told -- only the sixth sunny day this summer.
Passage through PCS should be spectacular.
The station here is not primarily a weather station as it was billed in the literature. Weather data collection is completely automated and controlled from Denmark. The 5 people here are Danish contractors who keep the communications equipment operable. This is one of the major communications points for the 200 flights a day between Europe & North America.
The people here are extremely hospitable and have let us use their internet connection. Hence my ability to send this email. I was also able to download a weather GRIB file, which indicates we should have a nice, easy 700 mile passage to the Straight of Belle Isle at the northern point of Newfoundland. We will leave Monday night or Tuesday morning. It should take about 5 days.
We are running a little short on water, and the water they have at the jetty is not potable, as was the case in Tasiilaq. Fortunately, there is a waterfall nearby where the water falls into the sea. We should be able to drive under it and fill up. We also should be able to go right up to a glacier face.
I hope I have better luck sending this email. Keep up the news from home.
Bev
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