I'd already been to the Cape Verdes a couple of times, and I still cannot really recommend it. The food is expensive, with limited choice and it's of poor quality. Better to stock up and leave from the Canaries (either Tenerife or Gran Canaria) around Dec 5th and then sail directly to the Caribbean. Thus avoiding the ARCs, getting a better chance of good trade winds yet still arrive before Christmas.

 

 

We stored the fresh food in netting round the cockpit bimini. The apples, oranges, cucumbers and tomatoes all lasted the trip. Of course there's never any point in buying more than 5 days worth of bananas, whether onshore or afloat. Having said that, I've still to find the best way of storing carrots. If kept inside they tend to get mouldy, outside they dry out. With three on board and no watermaker we found 100L water lasted a week, although we used sea water for washing dishes.

 

We left a day later than planned, on December 2nd. As always there was a powerful acceleration zone as we ran down through the Cape Verde islands (top speed under genoa alone 14.3 knots). And then, again as expected, we reached the island's wind shadow and ran into a huge calm patch. Eventually we motored to get away.

 

We quickly settled into the 3 on 6 off watch routine (although it was rare that any of us got more than 5 hours sleep in one go.) Our basic strategy was to stay on, or north of, the rhumb line. That's because the clockwise rotation of the trade winds means the winds start NE, slowly shifting to E and then SE as one nears the Caribbean. We wanted to finish on a reach, not a run. Of course nothing ever goes to plan....

 

 

People tend to imagine that crossing an ocean is always in the "mountainous seas, shark infested waters, storm force winds", beloved by the media. In fact nothing is further from the truth. Ocean cruising is 95% boredom and maybe 5% stress. I read nearly a book a day. And out of a total of 25 days at sea I reckon I could have dinghy sailed on 20 of them (although not during the nights of course).

 

 

Swaen's basic interior layout worked well - it's very similar to my Eclipse and Sagitta designs. Double bunks aft, one single forward on the starboard side, head/shower to port. The saloon could be used as sea berths. The galley down layout works so much better than galley up, especially on smaller boats. All in all the saloon/galley area was much more practical than on the Lagoon 380 I sailed two years ago.

 

The biggest drawback to Swaen's interior, common to many northern European boats, was the lack of ventilation. The cabin temperature reached 35C (95F) most days, it was hotter still in the hulls, forcing me to sleep in the saloon. There's always a good east wind blowing into the interior when heading west on an Atlantic crossing, so the heat gets even worse when anchored facing east in the lee of tropical islands, and the companionway is downwind. At least one opening hatch in the front of the saloon is essential. Cabin roof hatches are not very effective. We rigged up a sunscreen in the cockpit, when at anchor a screen across the back of the cockpit is essential - even if it blocks the sunsets.

 

 

Swaen had a mast aft rig and self tacking genoa. Both have major disadvantages, for example the self tacking facility is really only useful when actually tacking (not something you do on a trade wind crossing!) and it always needs to be barber hauled out when off wind, which somewhat defeats the "no hands" objective. When the genoa was reefed the forestay sagged a great deal (in part because of the rake, in part because it's really hard to tension when the backstays and forestay are at such different angles)

 

 

Unfortunately Swaen's rig was very poorly designed, as the boom extended about 400mm (18in) past the backstays, so the mainsail couldn't be released past about 40 degrees. And even then the mainsail roach fouled on the other shrouds. So we could only sail downwind with two reefs in the mainsail and had to lower/rehoist the sail about a metre when gybing.

 

Fredjan had a Garmin Inreach tracker which meant that, once set up, family and friends could follow our route. More importantly, we could get weather routing using SMS from Fredjan's son - who is a pilot. About a week out he warned us that there was a big line of thunderstorms heading our way. And he advised that we should sail south to avoid them. I have been hit by lightning when sailing - and once is enough! 

 So we gybed and headed south.

 

Result - no sign of thunderstorms - phew! But we did do a safety exercise just in case. The worst case scenario is that lightning hits the boat and blows a hole in the hull as it "escapes" - yes it does happen. Second worst is to be hit and lose all electronics and engines. That's much more common - and for some reason catamarans are at much higher risk from lightning than monohulls or powerboats.

 

 

Then a couple of days later we were told that there were more thunderstorms both north and south of us and that we would have to weave through a 30 mile gap to avoid them. Seemed crazy in mid Atlantic 1000 miles from land, but we did. And, again, fortunately no lightning.

 

 

As we sailed west we began to see more and more sargasso weed, much more than on previous trips. A major problem for all windward facing Caribbean beaches. Everyone associates flying fish with ocean voyages, but in fact you can find them close inshore anywhere the water is warm. Even so, they are always interesting to watch. To me it seemed the small ones stayed in shoals and took off downwind. Only the bigger ones would fly to windward - usually alone.

 

The real puzzle is why only small ones land on deck - the "flying fish for breakfast" is a myth! We only had one that was an edible size, it landed in the cockpit and was thrown back alive. But dozens less than 100mm, 4in long died on deck. And we each had one fly through an open hatch into the bunk cabins - fortunately this trip none hit me in the face.

 

We had an AIS transponder on board, just as well, as I don't remember ever seeing so many yachts on a crossing before. We must have seen a dozen, four of which were close (less than 1/2mile), one sailing on the opposite (port) gybe even had to alter course to avoid us. And of course any number of ships. We also saw three yachts without AIS (although we assumed they had a receiver so could see us). Fitting AIS is definitely a huge safety boost - highly recommended!

 

Although we had over 800w of solar panels we still had low voltage battery problems. In part because the sails would shade the panels, depending on wind direction. But I suspect mainly because the domestic battery was old. So one lesson learnt is to think about where best to mount the panels, especially if making a trans-ocean trip. And another is to have batteries not more than 3 years old, and these days fit LiFePo4 for domestic use, even if it means changing the charging system.

 

Our best day's sail was probably the last day, with a top speed of 15.4 knots and a 24 hour average of over 7. (As always, peak speeds are about twice the average). Not only was it fast, it was also comfortable, as the seas were flat, so we all got plenty of rest. 

 

A complete contrast to the day before when we spent all day under a line of squalls. As each approached the wind went to 20+ knots, but only for about 10 minutes. It then dropped to under 5 knots for an hour and "blew" from anywhere between NE and SE. Very frustrating as we zig zagged along to the SE of Barbados. Most of the squalls had rain, which would have been welcome to clear the decks and cool us down. But bizarrely we hardly had a drop.

 

We saw the lights of Grenada at 8pm on the 17th and then slowly sailed round the south end of the island and into Prickly Bay at 4am, fortunately finding room to anchor in a crowded mooring field. About 3000 miles sailed at an average speed of 6.1 knots. Next morning we awoke to find the boat moored ahead of us was flying a Cornish flag and in fact was also from the Torpoint area! A couple of boats astern was one of my 40ft Rhea designs.

 

 

At 10am we went ashore to clear customs, expecting it to be a quick process, as there was a customs office in the marina. However, that office was closed, so we taxied to the main immigration office in St Georges to find their computers were down and we all had to fill in forms (twice) manually. But by 3pm we were officially in Grenada and I was at last able to meet Jetti and move into our Airbnb, where we will stay until the end of February.