"Morning Shipmate, good sleep?"
This blog post is about a typical day and night while sailing across the Atlantic Ocean. It will cover a calmer routine as I would like to dedicate a separate blog for the heavy weather and stormy sailing.
Hopefully it will give you some insight into how sailors - on Misty - spend their time, what they do and how they keep the boat moving. There is no rule on how it should be done. There are principles such as safety, comfort, speed, crew morale, etc. but it is usually being prioritised by the skipper.
The overall passage from Lagos (Portugal) to Rodney Bay Marina (St. Lucia) took 29 days and 3714 nautical miles. It means Misty left the marina on the 13th of November and had been on the move until 11th of December with a 5 hour stop (anchoring) at Tenerife. The break was necessary. The weather was really heavy, strong wind, big and confused seas. Really uncomfortable, sometimes even dangerous. Some were seasick but everyone was exhausted due to sleep deprivation and lack of meals (it was impossible to cook). To get a sense of how it felt to be below deck at that time, imagine that you are in a washing machine and every other second you crash into a concrete wall (waves). Or imagine that all your neighbours decide on Sunday morning that they will mow the lawn with their jet engine powered lawn mowers while you are trying to sleep with open windows.
The wind was so violent, it almost tore off the solar panels from the top of the sprayhood while anchoring. I will be writing more about this and how we broke our pole in a squall in an upcoming blog.
During the short break anchoring, we appreciated the stillness, had a meal, a quick shower and a nap. Before hosting the anchor there was still time to send a few messages and make a few calls to our friends and families.
I called my mom. When I heard her voice I started to cry. I was emotionally and physically a wreck and was questioning the whole idea of sailing for 18 months around the world. I was exhausted and afraid of imagining the rest of the voyage. Will it look like last week?
My dear friend Shaun texted that "The stress will pass - it is normal to be worried and sad in the face of a great challenge." He added that he is a psychologist, so he must be right. Eventually the supporting words helped me to get my strength back. I knew that nothing good or bad lasts forever but I guess that was the time when I realised that my dream is really happening and it hit me hard. Anyway, sorry about the long intro. Let's go back to the subject.
To appreciate a 24 hour routine on a boat sailing across the ocean, it is important to understand that YOU ARE UNDERWAY (aka. moving) ALL THE TIME. You cannot stop. While you are crossing the Atlantic, there are no islands to anchor by. There is a technique to "stop" the boat in a storm called heave to, but you would not do that unless it's really necessary.
You are underway all the time. Day and night. You are not going fast on Misty. The speed is between 5-8 knots, which is approximately 5-8 miles/h or 9-14 km/h and with the force of the wind, you are moving a 25.6 ton-heavy structure that is floating on the water. There is a saying amongst sailors: “Sailing is not about speed but distance!”
This boat is your vehicle, your home and your life. If anything happens with any part of it, you are in big, big trouble, so “attention to details” is our motto. Moreover the water, fuel and food supplies are limited as well. You have to have a good estimation of what is going to happen when and most importantly, when you will arrive at your destination.
What are the things that will drive the day? When the sun rises, you eat breakfast, when it goes down, you eat dinner. Lunch is around noon. Pretty similar to your routine, isn't it? But what is different is that it won't stop after dinner. You keep going during the night.
A routine over 24 hours also depends on how many people are on the boat and if all of them are taking part in the rotation. We are cruising, meaning the speed is secondary to comfort but safety is always first.
On Misty, we have four people currently and everyone is involved in the watch system. What does being on watch mean? On Misty, it means you are in the cockpit from where you see the horizon in 360 degrees and also have loads of different instruments which show you the wind speed and direction, your position, speed and other things. You sit or stand in the cockpit and keep a good look out at the horizon, the traffic (if there is any) and keep an eye on the changes in the environment: wind shifting, increasing, decreasing, waves, clouds (which carry stronger winds in front of them), and so-on. While paying attention to all of this, you either react if only small changes need to be made, or you call the captain if there is a bigger decision to be made.
It is not easy to describe an average day at sea while sailing across an ocean, but let me try. The most important elements are the meals, being on watch and sleeping. One person is on watch all the time.
0600-0900
Let's say it's 6am and it's your turn to go on watch.
You wake up at 5:40am, drag yourself out of your bunk, put on the life jacket, grab a cup of tea and biscuits and go on deck 5-10 minutes before 6am to do a handover. “If you are 5 minutes early, it means you are late. If you are 10 minutes early, it means you are on time.” This is the law of Shipmate Niall.
You discuss what has happened in the last three hours and you will be given instructions about the direction to sail, sail plan and any dangers to keep a lookout for. Your shipmate is going to bed.
You will be on watch until 9am so you have time to check what's in the cockpit, tidy up the lines (ropes), find the best spot and enjoy your hot/cold beverage while "keeping a watch". Sometimes around 8am people will start to appear and you hope someone will make you a toast with some butter and jam.
At 9am you do your handover and before you go off duties you need to make a long entry in the logbook.
0900 to 1200
When you are off watch you can do anything. Read, think, stretch, talk, sleep, eat, enjoy the view or write your blog (like I am doing now).
The mornings until lunch are relaxed. Only the "mother" walking around, cleaning, preparing food, checking the expiry dates, tidying up things. You are a ‘mother’ every 4th day.
Lunch is optional and usually is something simple such as a pot noodle or cup of soup, sandwich or wrap.
1200 to 1500
After lunch you check if there is any help needed with the sails and when everything is settled, you have a nap or just chill. It is extremely important that every time when you can sleep, you sleep irrespective of the time of the day.
The person who was on watch until noon has an additional duty before he/she is off which is to do a rig check. Go outside wearing the life jacket with a harness line/life line and inspect every nut and bolt, every shackle, line (rope) for any chafe or damage or missing parts. Also, lie in the bow on deck with the binoculars and check the top of the mast as much as you can. You are constantly moving and the rig is under tension all the time. It's your vehicle, your home and your life. If anything happens to any part of it, you are in big, big trouble. Any sort of help could be days away.
1500 to 1800
It's your turn again to be on watch so there you go up in the cockpit with your sunglasses and hat on. Don't forget the sunscreen and the water.
For others, things become more busy in the afternoon. The mother starts cooking early to have the dinner ready for sunset. It usually takes 2 hours to prepare and cook the dinner as you can use only one hand. The other hand you need to hold onto something as the boat is moving around all the time. Check out a ‘reel’ I made about cooking on board.
We had a few accidents in the beginning when a frying pan flew off from the hob (twice in the same day) and everything became super slippery below deck, or things slipped off and made a huge mess. But we got used to the motion and by now, all of us are the kings and queens of the galley (kitchen in sailor language).
Around 4pm, we start the engine (in neutral) to top up the batteries and run the watermaker. We have 2 solar panels and a wind generator and they cope pretty well, but a top up is needed at least every other day.
If it's a shower day, you take a shower. Everyone is smiling after being able to rinse down the days worth of accumulated salty sweat. Little things can make a huge difference so next time, when you take a shower or bath, think about us, appreciate being clean and smile please!
1800 to 2100
The highlight of the day is the happy hour and the dinner. One small can of beer, some salted nuts and quiz time. We also use these happy moments to have a debrief of the previous 24 hours, check our position and talk about the plan for the next few days: direction, weather forecast, sail plan, expected speed and wave heights,and so-on. Then the person who did the rig-check and the mother watch "reports" about any faulty item on deck or rotten tomato under deck. It is also an opportunity to share or ask anything we need to talk about as a team such as checking on each other's health and mood.
2100 to Midnight
The engine is still on in neutral to run the watermaker. We turn all the instruments off at 9pm and suddenly everything is "quiet". Quiet in terms of no engine noise but it's not really quiet. It's actually the opposite. The bulkheads are creaking, waves slapping and banging on the side of the hull, cutlery and bottles rattling in the cupboards, the sails and rigging whistling, the wind generator moaning, propeller rumbling and the captain is snoring. You do try to pad out everything (not the captain though) but the noise is there. You need to sleep at least a few hours because from 3am, it's your turn to be on watch again.
It is recommended that after the sun goes down, you have your head torch with you all the time as it is not good practice to turn the lights on. You ought to be sleeping but sometimes it's just impossible so you either read or just lie in bed and wait for a dream to come.
Midnight to 0300
Someone else went on watch. Midnight to 3am is not that bad if you managed to sleep during the day or had a little nap after dinner. Otherwise it can be a struggle, but night sailing has its own magic. The stars, the moon, the constellations, the different shades of black, blue and silver are beautiful and you do see a lot actually at night. Human night vision is not as bad as some would think.
0300 to 0600
It's your turn again. You wake up at 2:40, and you really struggle. Its pitch black, everything is moving. You need to get dressed without falling out of bed and hit yourself. You grab your life jacket and other stuff, check if there are any biscuits in the night watch box, grab an apple if you still have fresh fruits and report for duties at 2:50. Your shipmate is really glad to see you as it means he will be in bed in 15 minutes. You do the handover and there you are. In the middle of the night, by yourself, the boat is flying through the waves and no clouds in the sky and you wonder what it is that you will do for the next three hours. Everyone has their own tricks.
Mine is a workout. I do spread 3 times 20 minutes workout through the 3 hour watch while making sure I am aware of what is happening around us. Checking the radar for example once or twice per hour to see if there is any squall coming that I cannot see. Listening to music or podcasts but only with one earpod. Munching sunflower seeds. Smoking my vape (I know I know I know). Night watches can be sometimes a blessing, sometimes a curse but I love them. Sometimes it feels that I am on a spaceship and we are cruising through worlds and time. You can count 10-15 shooting stars throughout the 3 hour period. Some are so bright, they leave a white line behind themself across the sky.
At 05:45 you hear movements below deck, you see that the next person is getting ready. You made it. You will be in bed soon unless the weather gods decide to change something so you need to amend the boat, but it's unlikely. You hand over the watch, go down below, take off your life jacket, brush your teeth and go to bed. Sweet dreams.
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