13 minute read
Antioch Youth and Family Sail Away with Southern Charm
Sail AWay with Southern Charm
words Elizabeth King image courtesy Southern Charm
Kevin and Elizabeth King On October 27, 2020, Kevin and Elizabeth King set sail with friends to move their sailing vessel Southern Charm from South Carolina to the Virgin Islands. What follows is a day-by-day log of their adventures.
DAY ZERO: MONDAY Departure day. Good to get off the dock, but Charleston, SC has been really good to us – couldn’t have picked a better place to wait out hurricane season. Boats aren’t made to be tied to a dock forever and it’s time to move on. We took advantage of the best possible departure conditions – slack tide right before noon – and planned our cast off.
Last minute checks: weather, routing, fuel, water, mechanical systems. Last load of laundry, quick grocery run for fresh veggies and fruit, emptying trash.
Crew meeting: skipper reviewed emergency procedures, gave assignments, and covered offshore rules, watch schedules and expectations.
Time to go. We say our goodbyes, unplug shore power and begin slipping lines. Kevin and I take a selfie with the Ravenel Bridge in the background and watch as Charleston Harbor Marina fades in the distance.
DAY ONE: TUESDAY Weather conditions worsen in the afternoon and evening. Thankful our crew has blue water experience. A few are feeling seasick, but no one is worried about conditions.
Virtually no wind so we run engines. We have 243 gallons of fuel, plus 20 for emergency. This passage is approximately 1,400 miles and we burn a gallon or so an hour, depending on RPMs when motoring. We raise the head sail and cut the engine back to save fuel. Not much wind expected until Thursday. Nothing better than the sound when you turn off the engines and all you hear is wind filling the sails and water slapping the hull.
Seas were pretty flat last night, most everybody got rest, even Kevin (our captain), who stayed on deck with the watch groups to ensure they were comfortable and understood how to operate all instruments.
Entered the Gulf Stream around 10:45am. Nothing much at first but before long we were getting thrown around pretty good. Huge rolling waves tossed us all over the galley.
4:45pm: We’re out of the Gulf Stream which has a bad reputation for being rough. Thankful for this tank of a boat. I would not want to cross in anything smaller.
We have four watch groups, three cover daily watches and the last prepares lunch, dinner and cleans up. Shifts rotate, so you never have the same schedule from day to day. Helpful when you know doing midnight to 0400 is just one night and not every night.
We had a visitor today. Funny how the small things break monotony. It’s not unusual to see large sea-going birds this far out but seeing one this tiny is. We keep all doors and hatches open when conditions allow. This little bird was tired. He flew into the galley and perched on the windowsill to rest. Eventually, we caught him and placed him on dingy floor. Next time we checked on him, he was gone.
DAY TWO: WEDNESDAY 5am: Steven has the 0400 to 0800 watch. Night watch can get lonely, but the 0400 watch is my favorite. The boat is quiet, nobody else awake. I sit at the helm (where you steer), drink coffee and watch the sun slowly peek around and paint the sky.
We’ve yet to catch a fish and are cruising with two lines and teasers running. Last night both lines went off. We had turned on the underwater blue lights. Clay and Kevin each took a line. Whatever was on Kevin’s finally took the lure and the entire spool of line. Maybe those blue lights stirred up some school of large fish from the deep. Back at it again today, determined to catch something. DAY THREE: THURSDAY Kevin and I have midnight to 0400 watch, the least popular among the crew. Uneventful night. Saw a blinking light we couldn’t find on our charts – assume it was some type of weather station. Wind is still not cooperating. Downloaded the weather, looks like it will fill in later this morning, which can’t happen fast enough. Kevin sat up around 7am, said it felt like we had wind. Before I could get on deck, he was raising the mainsail and unfurling the Genoa (a larger sail that overlaps the main). Engines off, we are finally a sailboat!
A few hours later, 18 knots turned into 20, then 25 knots. It happened fast and wasn’t forecast. Seas were building. Lunch quickly turned into nothing more than a charcuterie board, all we could safely put together. Rest of the day was just rest and covered watches.
FISH UPDATE: Still nothing. Changing out lures hoping that helps.
DAY FOUR: FRIDAY Rough beginning. Took a beating, had to close the hatches. No breeze makes an uncomfortable stateroom and galley.
Kevin and I have 0400 to 0800 watch. Normally we get plenty of sleep prior, but the sea is rough (8-10 foot seas, wind blowing 25 knots steady, gusting to 30), Captain needs
to be quickly available to watch crew, so, he’s not sleeping much. Conditions are set to improve later today. Nice to have a real meal again – we’ve been doing bare minimums for food. Glad we’re stocked up on peanut butter!
Late afternoon. Seas take mercy on us and the wind followed. Clay and Susan at the helm, Kevin and I lying down, as was Steven, when we heard the fishing line scream. Fish on! Everyone watched Kirk reel in a beautiful Mahi Mahi and we started planning what we were going to make for dinner.
Still under full sail with no motor – life was good! Kirk stepped down the sugar scoop (back of the boat, provides easy access to the water) to hose off the fish debris. As he did, we took a swell on the stern and Kevin and I watched Kirk fall backwards off the boat. We both screamed, “MAN OVERBOARD!” Clay and Susan immediately pushed the MOB button, marking our position on the electronic charts. Kevin raced to furl the head sail and turn around. I told Kirk’s wife to put her eyes on him and not look away. We threw all kinds of things overboard to identify the spot. Life ring, man overboard pole, pillows from the cockpit…anything we could get our hands on!
Port engine wouldn’t start. Kevin maneuvered the boat with the main sail still up and only one engine. All crew kept eyes on Kirk and prepared to grab him. Susan got the life sling and handed it to Clay. It was tricky for Kevin to get close enough to Kirk to toss the sling, but far enough to not slam the boat on him. As we got close enough, Clay threw the sling and Kirk grabbed it. We eventually got him attached to the boat. Kirk was able to pull himself up on the ladder. He was worn out, but fine.
We still had to recover the life ring and the man overboard pole. Pillows were gone. We were fortunate. If that would have happened an hour later, it would have been dark. It was very difficult to find him in the light, I can’t imagine being successful at night. In hindsight we did some things right and some wrong. Very thankful for the departure briefing on emergency procedures. Everyone was calm and knew what to do. I was thankful for my safety at sea class. What a day! After putting together Mahi taco’s for dinner, we crashed early.
DAY FIVE: SATURDAY Halloween! A cloudy, sunless day. Not enough charge from our solar panels so had to fire up the generator. We carry 8 panels generating over 2,000 watts of electricity. Most days it’s more than enough, but when running the auto helm and radar, we deplete batteries quickly. Today the generator started right up, but immediately died. Worked on it for hours and finally called our stateside tech and good friend, Mike Hart (an engine genius). We tried everything – still nothing. Kevin thought it was the fuel lift pump – literally the only thing we don’t have a spare of. Cloudy days mean being exceptionally conservative with the systems we run. Thankfully, we’re sailing. Fuel situation is concerning. Forty-five percent in the port engine and forty-two percent in the starboard engine. Turning on engines is not an option right now.
Fish on! Clay reeled in another gorgeous Mahi. It’s cleaned and stowed in the freezer. We may need it if this passage goes long.
We’ve been easting pretty much the entire time. We need to change our heading and begin southing, but the wind is not cooperating. Need to get a little more east before trade winds take over and make easting very hard on the crew and boat.
Approaching evening. Running the main sail with one reef (like a panel) in and the Code Zero up (meant for light upwind sailing). Sunset brought squalls which generally bring unpredictable wind. We decided to furl the Code Zero and replace it with the Genoa sail, which can handle much higher winds. Code Zero is the only sail we have to go forward for. Steven turned the boat into the wind to take pressure off the canvas to furl. Kevin and I donned life vests and clipped into the jack lines. Everything was smooth until the last 20% of the Code Zero was wrapped. The wind created a bubble in the top and no matter how much Kevin pulled on the line it wouldn’t furl properly. He insisted he didn’t need help. I got tired of watching the sail have its way with him. Wind was picking up. It was dark. I woke up Clay. He grabbed his vest and clipped into the boat. They both were on the bow wrestling wind and sail. We decided to drop sail to the deck and sort it out when we had rest and fair winds.
I began thinking about the power of the wind and the water. It is hard to appreciate its strength until you are out here. We are safe. The boat is a tank, and I am grateful.
DAY SIX: SUNDAY Beautiful sunrise! The entire crew is working on unwrapping the canvas. The wind had grown and while we were successful getting it up, wind speed was too high to get it furled. We had to drop it back down.
Crew morale is pretty good. We’ve had good meals. We pass our time listening to music, fishing, napping, reading, and visiting – but no drinking allowed. We are a dry boat at sea. However, the captain made a small exception and we cheered as we made it half-way through our journey!
There goes the reel again. Another Mahi for the freezer! I’m thinking I’ll make Mahi ceviche. Good news – Kirk stayed on board this time! DAY SEVEN: MONDAY We were to have arrived today, but that’s not happening – looking like late Wednesday/early Thursday – not good for the Pruitt’s morning flight out on Thursday. We’re still about 350 miles from St. Thomas. Lack of wind, wind coming directly from where we need to sail and an entangled Code Zero all contributed to the delay.
Running very low on fuel. Must decide whether to motor or just tack (a sailing maneuver) and use the little wind we have, which will cost us extra travel miles.
Caught another Mahi this morning – biggest one yet. Freezer is full of fish! When we hit ten knots today, we gave untangling the Code Zero another go. It took six of us, but we got it. This will help get an extra knot or two. More tomorrow.
DAY EIGHT: TUESDAY Unkind. Pruitts are on midnight watch. Susan heard something off the mainsheet or the traveller (it allows for changing position). But, it was dark, so at sunrise Kevin inspected. The traveller is a car-like device that allows the boom (the horizontal support for the bottom of the mainsail) to travel along a track to help make adjustment more precise. Knowing it was a possible failure, we reinforced the traveller with two soft shackles our youngest child, Caroline, had made. We felt good about it.
Morning was uneventful, Kevin and I had lunch and dinner duty – no watch. Heard a bunch of commotion on deck, ran up and the rest of the traveller had failed. The boom was only attached to the boat by the soft shackles. We had full sail out. Another all-hands-on-deck situation.
Kevin and Clay quickly donned life vests and ran to the fly bridge, securing the boom. Susan and I took over the boom and did our best to keep it from swinging. Then, another problem. Genoa sheets released, then got tangled in each other and the line on deck. Steven took the helm. Kevin and Clay wrestled lines. We were able to get the sails down. Later we discovered a massive bruise covering Kevin’s entire bicep and I found part of the toenail I lost in the shuffle. Lunch was late. All we managed was a baked potato bar. We were worn out.
Waiting on wind now. Trades are forecasted to fill in soon. We are down to 14% fuel in the port engine and 15% in starboard. DAY NINE: WEDNESDAY Fuel critically low. The last ten gallons of fuel are placed in the starboard engine. Routine weather check. Our subscription to a weather routing expert, reports smooth sailing the last 170 miles. Kevin and I are on 2000 to midnight watch. Today has been really uncomfortable – all we can do is sit, lie down and crab walk. Knowing this should be our last night watch helps me mentally prepare for a late night. Steven is on watch. We see squalls on the radar, so Kevin goes to help. Winds build and they decide to reef the Genoa sail (reduce the area). More wind – 34 knots. Squalls are troublesome. They can take reliable wind speeds and direction and change both. Storms suck all the wind out for a time, not optimal for us considering our fuel. We must watch wind speed. Flying only the Genoa, we reduce sail when we see 25 knots and again at 30 knots, etc. Sails were reduced several times. We prepare for a long night with squalls popping all around us. Winds build, we reduce sail, wind dies out and we shake out the reefs we’ve put in. We sit for several hours, seeing as high as 39 knots. Nobody got much sleep – it’s a rough ride. The only thing getting us through, is knowing how close we are. DAY TEN: THURSDAY Finally, some sleep as the seas calm. Kevin said he had to make eight sail changes through the night. This was the hardest night on all of us.
1100: LAND HO! We’re approximately 25 miles out from St. Thomas.
1800: We pull into Honeymoon Beach off St. Thomas and pick up a mooring ball. We secure the boat, lower the dingy and head to shore. Dinner on the Captain!
Final trip miles – 1,375!
Read the full log and see even more beautiful photos at DoSouthMagazine.com. Follow the Kings’ next adventure and discover charter details at WhatTheKingsDidNext.com and follow on Facebook and Instagram.
