Distance: 164 nm/Time 26 hours
After checking the forecast in the morning, the winds continued to look very favorable for an outside run up the coast to the Ponce de Leon Inlet just south of Daytona Beach. I planned to make it out through the inlet by 11 am, right when the winds were forecast to change from 4-5 knots to 8-10 knots out of the east all day. The forecasts also called for only 2.5′-3.0′ seas. Perfect!
However, I was slightly delayed getting off due to an anchor snubber 1issue. The rubber strap came off the chain hook as I was bringing it over the roller. Luckily I had a spare, but it took me about 30 minutes all told to get that installed, so I ended up departing the anchorage at 11:00 instead of clearing the inlet by 11 am.
On the way out the inlet, I passed a huge dredging rig doing its thing, then proceeded offshore. I could immediately tell that the winds were not as forecast. They were supposed to be out of the east, clocking during the day to SE, but these were just east of north, meaning I couldn’t sail as it would be almost directly into the wind. The AquaMap app inclues some weather information, so I looked at that, and it showed that the forecast had changed since I had last looked and now called for the winds to be out of the north for just another hour and a half; I would have to motor until then. The new forecast proved accurate, as the wind did change to easterlies at that time.
Right about then I had also hit the Gulf Stream and was doing about 7.5 knots on the motor (which at 2100 RPM, normally would give me only 5.5-6.0 knots, which is how I knew I was in the Stream.) Imagine my very pleasant surprise, when, after hoisting the main (with a double reef) and the mizzen and Genoa, I accelerated to an average of 9.5 knots! This very balanced sail plan kept up through most of the day; the autopilot was hardly having to work at all.
But, as the evening approached, the winds (by now about 12-15 knots) began clocking around to the southeast and the seas started to build a bit to 3′-4′ seas, right off the starboard beam. This caused the boat to roll a fair amount with each wave. Nothing crazy, but big enough to make me nauseous when going down into the cabin.
And that’s when I realized that I had neglected to take any anti-nausea medication! Usually when going offshore, I use a Scopolamine patch behind my ear. That has proven very effective and lasts three days (although the dry-mouth side effect is pretty annoying). I hadn’t used one when offshore from Boca Grande to Marathon, but it had been very smooth. I could feel myself getting more and more uncomfortable every time I moved around the boat, until it reached the point where I puked over the side.
That was only the second time I have been seasick to the point of throwing up. And both times it was the same thing: Not a debilitating sense of nausea, but just a fairly mild discomfort until up it came. Then relief. The first time had been on the trip to the Dry Tortugas on Mexicana with Nicholay and Sierra. (See Archive page to read about that passage.) Just puked once and that was it for the entire trip (although going down into the cabin would trigger it again for sure if one wasn’t careful.)
But, I really didn’t want to deal with the discomfort or the chance of the nausea getting worse and me getting debilitated–especially single handed! So, I put on a patch and then waited four hours for it to take effect. I did experience some more mild nausea symptoms until it kicked in, but nothing major.
My son, Alek (who works at the Kennedy Space Center), had texted me earlier that a Space X Starlink rocket was schedule to blast off at 10 pm. I would be going right by Cape Canaveral about then (albeit 30 miles offshore), so I should have a great view! That evening, every so often, I’d hear the Coast Guard announce on Channel 16, “For urgent marine broadcast concerning Cape Canaveral, switch to Channel 22a.” This was one of many announcements that Coast Guard Sector Jacksonville was continually making (which I typically ignore) and this one was no different. Until I realized, about 8 pm, that since I was going to be going fairly close to Cape Canaveral (especially when I turned toward the inlet), I should probably listen to the announcement!
It’s a good thing I did, too, because a restricted zone was in effect for the launch of the rocket. The Coast Guard radio person was very rushed when giving the coordinates for the corner points of the restricted area, so I had to listen to the announcement three times (over the period of an hour) before I could copy down all the latitude and longitude information correctly. Sure enough, my planned course would cut through a portion of the restricted area. If the rocket launched at 10 pm, it wouldn’t be a problem as I would still be a distance away. But if it got delayed, I would have to alter my course to the east to avoid getting in trouble (or having a rocket land on my head).
In the event, the rocket blasted off on time and gave me quite a show. For awhile, it appeared like it was heading straight for me, I was so close.
After midnight an issue started as the wind continued to move further aft and began decreasing. The now 4′ rollers were coming through consistently right off the beam, causing the boat to rock each time about 20 degrees. This would cause the main and mizzen booms to swing all the way to the center of the boat, then slam all the way out to where they were supposed to be trimmed, each time because the light wind wasn’t holding them out firmly enough. This was not good for the equipment and dangerous if I had to get out on deck, so I decided to take down the mainsail, put a preventer on the mizzen, and just run “jib & jigger” (mizzen and Genoa). That lasted for awhile until as the wind came even further aft and continued to decrease, it caused even the Genoa to luff and then snap violently full, then luff, snap full, and so on. It probably needed a whisker pole2, but I had never set it up and my boat, didn’t have the rigging set up for it, and wasn’t about to mess with it the first time at 2 am. Instead, I doused all sails, turned on the motor, and headed directly towards the Ponce de Leon inlet, about 40 miles away.
I reached the inlet around 8:30 am and a couple of hours later arrived at the anchorage just north of Daytona Beach, 26 hours after departing. Thus a single 24-hour period (160 miles) got me as far as 5 days via the ICW!
But, I was very tired. With all the tweaking of sails due to the changing winds, combined with the Cape Canaveral issues, I hadn’t gotten much sleep all night. I planned to go to be early to continue north in the ICW the next day.
- What is a snubber? Check out this explanation: https://www.48northmarine.com/anchor-snubber-info-sizing-deployment.html
Also, I’m fortunate in that Shannon designed a snubber attachment point at the cutwater, right below where the bobstay attaches to the bow of the boat. This reduces the amount of rode that must be paid out for any given water depth (because in making such calculations, one takes into consideration the height of the rode’s attachment point to the boat above the water), and it reduces pitching motion in gusty winds since the rode is pulling much lower on the boat’s center of gravity.
An anchor bridle serves the same function as a snubber, but attaches to two points on the boat instead of one. I also have a bridle setup with heavier line which I will use for stronger winds. ↩︎ - A pole that holds the Genoa out flat in such conditions. One side attaches to the clew of the sail and the other to the mast. ↩︎
