I had a good weather window and enough time to quickly prepare for my departure from Bermuda. Wednesday, December 28th, 2022 was the day. I planned to depart around noon.
On Tuesday, I brought Distant Horizon to the quay. There, my top priority was to fill the water tanks. Then, I would do last-minute provisioning. Finally, I would say goodbye to the friends I had made.
I would spend the night tied to the quay. In the morning, I would walk to the Customs Office and check out of Bermuda.
Everything went smoothly. I was away. I decided to start with one reef in the mainsail. So, once that was set, I called Bermuda radio and reported my departure. They said I was cleared, nobody was coming through the cut.
The air was crystal clear! I felt like I could see a hundred miles. Of course, due to the curvature of the earth, from the cockpit, the horizon is just 4-6 miles away. The sky was a rich deep blue. There were no clouds. The winds were out of the east. I was motoring east through the cut. The boat pitched up and down. The waves were funneled through the narrow pass. It was not comfortable, but it wasn’t a problem. Once through The Cut, I would have room to take a different angle to the waves.
…and that is exactly what I did. There were no other boats in sight. So, I would cross the waves at a better angle as I moved across the channel. Then, I turned Distant Horizon to cross back again. I did this 3 or 4 times before I reached deep water beyond the Bermuda reefs.
Perfect Sailing day
I turned Distant Horizon to the south. With the 18kts of wind from the east, the sails filled immediately. For now, I just had the Mainsail with 1 reef and the full jib. I had not hoisted the staysail. The engine was turned off. Distant Horizon was sailing at 6 kts and barely healed over. She was perfectly balanced. So, I continued on with this sail configuration.
The weather forecast predicted this same weather for tonight and tomorrow with no chance of rain or thunderstorms. However, the wind was expected to ease a bit overnight before picking back up in the morning.
It was a glorious sail! My biggest worry was trying to decide if I should put sunscreen on my face and arms… I know… If I thought about it, I should have done it. I didn’t though. I just relaxed and enjoyed a fabulous sail.
Before my departure, I did a little fine-tuning on the rigging. So, I was checking that out and everything looked perfect.
As the sun slowly fell from the sky, I went below to make some dinner. I wanted to eat in the cockpit and watch the sunset. After my rough arrival in Bermuda, I wanted to enjoy every minute of these ideal conditions.
As the sky darkened. I watched the lights from Bermuda slowly slip below the horizon. I would continue sailing south, and a little east for the next two days before the wind would veer south. After that, I will turn east for a few days. When I reach the trade winds, I will be far enough east to head south, directly to Guadeloupe.
Orion and a starlit sky
The sky was filled with stars! Orion was rising. The end star in Orion’s belt is the only star in the sky that rises and falls directly over the equator! So, now I knew where the southeast was. When Orion is overhead and his scabbard is vertical, that same star on his belt is due south! When Orion sets, the star on his belt is still directly over the equator to the west.
Orion is a winter constellation and would be important to my navigation to the Caribbean this time of year. Just as important as the bigger dipper is farther north.
The evening grew into the night and then early morning. There were no noteworthy events. What a pleasant change from my trip to Bermuda! I sat in the cockpit all night under a blanket watching the stars slowly move across the sky. Not being accustomed to staying awake all night, I took a few cat naps as well.
As the dawn skylight began to brighten, I noticed a line of low grey clouds stretching across the horizon in front of me. I could see rain falling in some areas. I checked with the radar. The rain was about 12 miles away and very isolated. I had several hours before I reached them.
Rain on the horizon, but a morning rainbow to start the day
I expected heavier wind around those clouds. My current sail configuration was good for a while, but I should put another reef in the mainsail in preparation for stronger winds. That could wait an hour or a little more. In the meantime, I would just keep an eye on the weather as it approached.
At about 9 am, I decided to set the second reef in the mainsail. I wanted to stay ahead of events. I was currently sailing almost 6.5 kts. So a small amount of speed loss was not a concern.
To set the reef while sailing, I had to sail as close to the wind as possible. Then, let the boom out until the mainsail was pointing directly into the wind. At that time, the sail would luff. Luffing a sailing is when a sail flaps in the wind like a flag. The boat continues to sail forward. Slowly, because only the jib is powered up.
Next, I walk up to the mast. This is where I have to set a reef. First I ease the halyard. This is the line (rope) that is used to raise and lower the sail. I am lowering the sail to reduce the total amount of sail that will be used… reefing… making the sail smaller.
Once this task is done, I center the boom and turn the boat back onto the intended course. To complete the task, the sails are readjusted to work together.
The only problem is… when I went to turn the boat back on course… the wheel didn’t move. My wheel is typically very light (easy to turn). Even with a considerable amount of force, it would not turn.
No Steering
I thought that maybe the cable had jumped off a sheave (pulley). To check this, I had to open the rope locker in the cockpit. Then remove all the ropes… and there are plenty… dock lines; spare halyards, sheets, and anchor line; storm drogue bridal and line; and anchor snubbers. There was also a spare propellor and the storm drogue stored in there.
When the locker was empty, I had to remove the floor.
Distant Horizon is sailing south. The wind is from the east; almost 90 degrees to the boat. So, the waves were coming from the side, causing the boat to roll. There was enough power in the sails where this was not uncomfortable… it’s just sailing.
However, to check the steering cables, I had to hang upside down in the locker so I could use one hand to try and turn the wheel as the other hand traced the cables. … Not Fun!
I had to take a break. I did not want to get seasick… again. So, I sat in the cockpit and enjoyed the fresh air and a beautiful day. A quick look ahead gave no concern. The low clouds ahead were still a long way off.
I quickly finished the inspection. The cables were fine. However, I did hear a weird clanging sound from farther down inside the boat. Holding the cable and wheel stationary, I concluded the clanging had nothing to do with the steering system. There was no movement or vibration when the clanging occurred.
Now, I had to put the floor back in the locker and return its contents back; ensuring it was neat and orderly. If I needed anything, I did not want it to be tangled up with something else.
The next step was to discover the source of the clanging. Whether it was related to the steering issue or not, it was not a normal sound.
To go down under the steering system, I had to empty a larger locker that contains lots of items. Two emergency manual bilge pumps, the air pump to inflate the fenders, two Jerry cans of spare diesel fuel, and much more. The contents of this locker fills the cockpit.
Again, I had to disassemble the locker’s floor to gain access below it. Then I grabbed a flashlight and descended deep into the boat. As deep as I am able. It only took seconds to discover the source of the clanging… the propellor shaft was broken! It was also displaced about three inches farther aft than it should be. The end was swinging around and hitting whatever it could; causing the weird clanging as it hit some of the bronze fittings.
Broken Propellor Shaft Clamped Down
I concluded the propellor was the cause of the steering issue. It probably slid far enough back to jam up against the rudder.
I was feeling wheezy after returning to the cockpit. Sitting in the fresh air, I did the mental exercise of evaluating my options… I could continue south as this problem will not affect my sailing to the Caribbean. The downside is… where do I sail to? I need a destination with suitable repair facilities. I did not know where I could go. My other option was to turn around and go back to Bermuda. I was just 100 miles away.
Turning around and heading back to Bermuda seemed like the best option.
I grabbed some tools and climbed back down under the cockpit to pull the prop shaft forward. I could not! The pressure from the boat’s movement was too great to overcome.
I knew I had to hove-to, but I can’t turn the wheel to do that… However, I have a Hydrovane! It steers the boat using the wind and its own rudder, which has a small tiller. So, I used that to hove-to and tied the tiller off to keep the boat in that position. It worked!
There was much less rolling now. So, I climbed down underneath the cockpit. I was kneeling down, bent over the muffler and the exhaust hose; the clamp digging into my chest. Reaching down the full extent of my arms, I clamped onto the prop shaft. I tried to pull it forward, but still couldn’t. There was no leverage with straight arms.
I repositioned myself so instead of being on my knees, I was on my side. The muffler bolt was digging into my hip. The clamp still digging into my chest as I leaned over. I pulled on the shaft. Thinking it had moved, I pulled again and twisted the shaft this time. It worked! Now, I had to lock the shaft in that position so it can’t slide back again. It took a while, but the job was a success… except… the smells of the bilge, diesel fuel, and engine exhaust were all trapped down there. I was feeling a little woozy.
I quickly returned to the cockpit for fresh air and waited a while before putting this locker back together and storing its contents.
Fighting off the seasickness, I steered the boat and turned around. Looking at my watch, I spent over 3.5 hours working on this problem. The line of dark clouds had nearly reached me by now. Thank God I finished that job… just in time.