The First Time we Crossed the Gulf Stream in our Sailboat:

The Gulf Stream is a river embedded in the Atlantic Ocean that flows from the south to the north at speeds of up to 5 miles per hour. It is usually between 5 and 15 miles offshore from the Southern Florida Coast and about 20 miles wide. In order to take advantage of the current, you usually plan to start from a point that is south of your destination and let the current carry you north, crossing the stream at an angle. Navigation takes a little more planning to make sure you don’t drift beyond your destination.

Weather is the other big consideration. When the winds are light to moderate from the east, south, or west, the Gulf Stream is smooth. However, when strong winds are blowing from the north, they clash with the current from the south and create very steep, treacherous waves. From a distance, the waves are boxy and look like a line of elephants marching along.

We are waiting for the winds to be right for our trip. Several times each day we check the NOAA forecasts and several internet sites. In the early mornings we listen to Chris Parker’s Bahama forecast on single-side band (SSB) radio.

On Tuesday night (tonight) the winds are forecast to be from the Northwest at 5 to 10 knots with seas less than 2 feet near shore and up to 2 to 4 feet in the Gulf Stream. Light westerly winds are forecast for Wednesday, with a return to increasing northerly winds the following day.

It’s been hard to decide – do we go on Tuesday Night and possibly have some residual waves and chop early in the evening, or do we go on Wednesday Night and run into stronger winds for our arrival in the Bahamas? We think that we’ll go for Tuesday – we can always turn around if we don’t like the conditions when we get out there.

We are on our way. We are leaving Fort Lauderdale just before sunset and will sail all night so that we arrive about midday at Grand Bahama Island. There are not enough hours of daylight for us to make the trip in one day so we planned our departure based on when we want to arrive.

We carry all sorts of safety equipment and take extra precautions when we go offshore. We have life vests for all crew members, including our cats; equipped with whistles and strobes. If we leave the cockpit for any reason, we strap ourselves to “D” rings and jack lines because it would be disastrous to fall over board. We do have a life ring and a man overboard module (MOM) that can be deployed, but prevention is most important. We have an emergency life raft and a bail-out bag with emergency supplies. Another piece of emergency equipment is a GPIRB – an emergency locator transmitter that would tell rescuers our exact location if anything were to happen to the boat.

That just about sums it up. There is just so much that we don’t know about yet. It’s hard to know what to expect – I guess that’s part of the excitement of travel. The captain says that it’s time to cast off. I guess we’ll see you in the Islands.

Out into the Atlantic we went, a little early, about two hours early from our planned departure. Because of that, we made a very slow trip across to the Islands. We did not want to arrive in the dark and try to find the narrow channel into the marina at Lucaya. Port Everglades Inlet is a very busy place – I kept nagging at Jim to slow down so I could finish getting the boat “storm ready” and he let me know that slowing down was not a viable option at that point. He was busy dodging cruise ships, tugs and sport fishermen in very heavy seas.

By sunset, we were leaving the Port Everglades Sea Buoy behind us, heading east. Winds were mostly from a Northerly direction and did not switch to the expected west winds until we arrived in the Bahamas the following morning. Having heard over and over that you should never, ever try to cross the Gulf Stream if the wind is coming from the North, I was pretty anxious for the first couple of hours.

It didn’t help that the first two hours were the worst of the entire passage. We had 6 to 7 foot high waves hitting us abeam (from the side). The effect was a not very pleasant rolling from side to side. Both cats were not only seasick, but also wet their pants and sent various feline curses in our direction. By the time we got to the Gulf Stream, it was pretty much a non-event. In fact, I really couldn’t tell that we arrived at the Gulf Stream; I just knew that once we were 30 miles east of Fort Lauderdale, we must have gone through it already at some point earlier. (We found out later that the Gulfstream was extremely close to shore that night and that was the reason for the rough seas we experienced at the beginning of our passage.)

For most of the night, our boat rolled from side to side (similar to the wake left behind by an inconsiderate speed boat only it lasted for 8 hours). I must have been a real whiner, because at one point, Jim asked me if I wanted to turn back. (I didn’t.)

Our older cat, Blazey finally gave up and went to sleep, but the youngster, Tippy, was incorrigible. She wandered around the cockpit whining and finally tried to throw herself overboard (that’s my theory anyway.) Around midnight, I ducked into the cabin for a second and when I came back up, she was gone. I woke Jim up and we searched everywhere. He finally found her sitting outside of the cabin at the stern of the boat which was still rolling about 30 degrees from side to side). Jim dragged her back into the cabin under protest and put the companionway doors into position.

Eventually, the sea starting calming down and the night passage got a little boring. We had chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy for a late night dinner along with chocolate chip cookies for dessert. That helped time go by.

We have a set schedule for night passages. The Captain usually stays at the helm until midnight and then we start 3 hour shifts. Now what really happens is that if the Captain feels tired, I will take the helm for a couple hours and then I sleep for a couple hours while he takes the helm again, etc.

It was a very dark night with the moon rising at close to 4:00 am. We didn’t see any other small boats – just the lights of freighters, cruise ships and fishing boats from a distance. The starry night sky away from any city lights is impossible to describe – gazillions of planets and stars as far as the eye could see. The stars were so bright that it was hard to pick out Orion because of all the star clutter. I got a little sleepy for awhile but plugged in my IPod and listened to some old rock and roll to keep alert. Sunrise was a blessing. We had slowed to about 3 knots by this time so we wouldn’t arrive too soon.

By 6 a.m. we were both awake, having coffee and taking another look at our Explorer charts. Their waypoints and directions into Lucaya were right on target. We are so spoiled in the United States with NOAA, Corps of Engineers, USDA, etc. to have very accurate marine charts. It isn’t always the case in other countries. As we turned in from the ocean buoy at Bell Channel, we went from 1800 feet to 150 feet to 8 feet in a very short distance. You could see the changes in the water – deep, dark blue, to light blue, to pale green.

We got into the marina about 10:00 am and checked in with customs and immigration. We had to raise the quarantine flag before coming into land. It’s the yellow “Q” flag from the maritime signal flags. After we check in, we raise the flag of the country that we are in as a courtesy. We bought a Bahamas courtesy flag in Florida. We fly the Stars and Stripes off our stern.

Second Year:

After months of anticipation, weeks of preparation, and days of waiting for perfect weather, we are finally on our way back to the Bahamas. Our friend, Beth, wished us a “blissful passage”. She went on to explain that it meant, “Enough wind to sail, magical sparkly bioluminescence in the water and a million stars above. And don't I remember something about chocolate chip cookies on a night passage?"

It looks as though we have a good weather window from Thursday through Sunday. That is a long enough period of good weather conditions so we can safely reach the Bahamas and make some good progress toward getting to the Exumas. Since we are traveling in an ESE direction and going across the gulfstream, the ideal winds would be from the Southwest. Short, widely spaced waves are also a good thing – we prefer less than four feet. Thursday night we are expecting Southerly winds of about 10 knots and 4-foot waves. The winds should move around to the west once we get to the Bahamas and give us a couple more days of good traveling. It sounds nearly perfect.

Our group of travelers has grown to include six boats. This is quite a change from last year when we went across the Gulf Stream by ourselves. We’re not certain we like being part of a group; but we’ll see how it goes.

This morning, we made one final call to Chris Parker for weather (Winds SSE at 7-10 knots with seas of 1-2 feet); then we topped off fuel and water tank. I spent an hour or so securing everything – just in case. Even though the forecast does not call for rough seas, we’ve been surprised before. Our chores for the day complete, we each took a nap and read awhile; but we mostly just waited. It was most definitely that “kid before Christmas” feeling until it was finally time to head out of our anchorage toward the inlet. In fact, we were so anxious to “get going and get it over with” that we left about an hour earlier than we’d originally planned.

Lake Worth inlet was filled with traffic going every which way; the seas were rough with wind-opposed current and boat wakes. Within a couple hours of leaving the sea buoy, we noticed a sharp rise in the water temperature (over 80 degrees) and a sudden decrease in our speed over ground (down to less than 2 knots at times) – we were in the Gulf Stream. The winds built to 15 knots from the SSW and sails were coming out all around us. Maybe this would be a blissful passage.

By midnight, we’d had our hot chocolate chip cookies, the Gulf Stream was behind us, and Solitaire was rolling back and forth – just on the verge of being uncomfortable. Hourly check-ins by all the boats in our little flotilla helped the time pass quickly and before we knew it, the sun was rising and we had Freeport, Grand Bahamas in sight. “Aaah – bliss.”