Lucaya to Ponce de Leon Inlet to Winyah Bay

Slowly, tediously, we are making our way north to the Chesapeake Bay. Right now, we are anchored by Cat and South Islands in Winyah Bay, South Carolina. Our plan when leaving Luycaya, Grand Bahama, on Friday, May 5, at 4:20 p.m. We were ready to go earlier, but we waited for a rising tide. Out of Lucaya Channel, we headed northwest, with northeast winds, 12-16 knots. On a close reach starboard tack, we got close to haul speed (about 10.3 knots) throughout the night, mostly at 9 knots speed over ground. We both stayed awake through sunset, and then I went to sleep around 11 p.m. Peter was able to watch the full moon rise in the east.

Sunset near the west end of Grand Bahama Island

After sunset, with waves building after we left the lee of the island

Peter's photo of the full moon

Before 4 a.m. (Saturday, May 6), I took a watch. My first log entry lists "dark" for weather and visibility, indicating my pleasure at being awake in the middle of the night. Really, we are meant to sleep through the night! The wind was 16 knots from the ENE, the 2-4 foot waves were rolling by at 5-8 second intervals, and our bearing was due north. We were flying along at 9 knots, but being on a close reach, it was a bit of a rollercoaster ride. However, the sunrise, something I rarely see, was fantastic, the sky lightening and then coloring until the east was a palette of pale hues. At 8 a.m., Peter took over. As the day warmed up, the wind increased to 18-20 knots, and Peter put a second reef in the mainsail. Speeds were up to 11 knots SOG. 

Sailing through the waves with the moon illuminating water and clouds

Sunrise through the salt encrusted, wet windows

Patterns of light and dark as the sun ascends

Dramatic light streaming from behind the purplish clouds

Because of the adverse wind direction and wave state, it did not seem advisable to ride the Gulf Stream north, so Peter crossed it while I was sleeping. Our plan changed from going on night after night to Cape Lookout, North Carolina, in favor of anchoring for rest inside Ponce de Leon Inlet behind New Smyrna Beach. We were very excited to realize that since we had raised the sails outside Lucaya Channel we had covered 200 miles in 24 hours! 

Wave view from inside the pilot house

Peter at the helm 

By 6 p.m., we could see the endless row of highrises fronting the Atlantic coast in Florida. At 7:15, we put three reefs in the mainsail, hauled in the genoa and started the engine to power in through the inlet. Our plan was to turn north after Mark 8 to anchor, which we had done once before, but the tide was not high enough to maneuver through the thin sand covering solid rock, and we backed off quickly before running aground and turned south, anchoring just south of the Coast Guard base. Just before 8 p.m., as the daylight was waning, we were set for the night, and Peter got an amazingly prompt response to our request to clears in with U.S. Customs and Border Patrol via an app. After a quick dinner, we went to sleep listeing to the current gurgling and sploshing against the hull as it rushed by at 1-2 knots.

Peter navigating at full throttle due to waves and current in Ponce de Leon Inlet

The next morning (Sunday, May 7, my mom's birthday), after a good night of sleep, we awoke to listen to the weather forecast and make plans. I made French toast for breakfast and many egg salad and peanut and jelly sandwiches since cooking in the galley during the next leg of the trip did not seem promising. We set off at 10:30 a.m., destination either Winyah Bay or Cape Lookout, according to conditions. The wind was 11-12 knots from the southeast, and we sailed at about 6 knots SOG. With light wind behind us, we raised the spinnaker at 4 p.m. and used it for three hours, although it did not make much difference in our speed as we sailed on a broad to deep broad reach tack. At 7 p.m., we had to start the engine, which we like to avoid doing, because we hate the noise and the movement of the boat through the water is not as smooth if there are waves. At 9 p.m., it was possible to breathe a sigh of relief as we cut the iron genoa (a boating term among sailors for the engine) and put out the genoa when the wind increased to 16 knots from the south. Getting the most out of the breeze, we sailed off course, jibing when necessary, running downwind, making 7 knots SOG. 

We took turns lying down, but neither of us could sleep well. I had a couple hours of sleep in the aft cabin until I was disturbed by occasional beeping sounds from the cockpit. Eventually, I got up. Peter had decided not to bother me for a watch since conditions were benign and there was no traffic. However, he had set 15 minutes alarms just to check on things while he dozed. Unfortunately, the alarms were just loud enough to wake me also. So I took a watch anyway. This afforded me the opportunity to observe another sunrise.

Sunrise on my late mom's birthday

By mid-afternoon on Monday, May 8, after a front passed, the wind dropped from 18-20 knots from the SSW to 8, and we were forced to use the engine again. By 8 p.m., the wind was back at 20 knots, and the Coast Guard had made a broadcast announcing a band of thunderstorms moving west to east with wind gusts to 30, advising everyone to make for harbor. We were too far offshore to heed this advise (Besides, what's a little small craft advisory!). However, we did put three reefs in the main and watched the threatening sky. A double rainbow appeared in the east, and a large cloud manifested a mushroom shape in the northwest, but the stormfront passed in front of us and we only experienced a few drops of rain and an increase in wave height to 5-6 feet. The sunset produced shades of peach, salmon, neon yellow, bold orange and subtle pinks. 

Double rainbow ahead as we reef the mainsail

Sun sending its rays through the clouds and across the water

Waves off the starboard stern

Sunset after stormy weather

On and on and on we went, taking turns lying down but not really getting much rest. Before 2 a.m. Tuesday, May 9, we started following the the lighted buoys marking the long channel to the mouth of Winyah Bay, finally dropping anchor at 2:50 a.m. We had not eaten proper meals or had proper sleep, so we were hungry and tired, but we opted for skipping food and going directly to a bed that was not bouncing around, sinking into slumber immediately.

We awoke around 8 a.m. to sunny skies, mildly suffering from sail-lag (like jet lag). We are staying here today and tomorrow waiting for the wind to clock through the north to the east before continuing on, cleaning up the boat and doing small chores. Dolphins swim by occasionally. Look at the color of the water! We are not in the Bahamas anymore.

Dolphins in Winyah Bay