Announcing Finding Dory - Webinar 3: Sailing safely through "orca territory"

"Finding Dory", is a social community of cruisers who plan to cross the Atlantic (East-West) next winter (2025-2026 season). It is "free-to-join" and "contribute-as-you-wish" group of yachties, bonded by one common goal: to cross the Atlantic safely. "Finding Dory" is organized in collaboration with Helena and Steve from "Noforeignland". You can read about the background, purpose and setup of this group, and planned free webinars in this post on Noforeignland - which will also guide you how to join this Whatsapp-based community.

So,... we are ready to kick off our third free webinar on August 26 at 20:00 Rome time, 18:00 GMT. This time we will tackle a common challenge many of us will face, as we are sailing from Northern Europe or from the Med towards the Canaries as we are preparing to cross the Atlantic:
We will all pass areas where in the past years, there have been multiple interactions between different orca pods and sailboats, in the the Bay of Biscay, on the West and South coasts of Spain and Portugal, and around the Gibraltar Straight.

Several of these interactions have resulted in significant damage to the yachts' rudder, rudder shaft and hulls. On some occasions this resulted in the yacht being disabled, and there have been occurences where the yacht sank.

Since a number of years, the "go-to" place for cruisers to get up-to-date information and guidance has been "orcas.pt", a citizen-funded and crowd-source initiative, sustained by the very community it serves: sailors, maritime enthusiasts, and concerned individuals who recognize the urgency of this situation. It is a free, volunteer-driven platform dedicated to providing real-time assistance and crucial information to help sailors navigate safely in orca activity areas.

"orcas.pt" is coordinated by Rui Alves. Rui not only maintains and updates the website, but he also coordinates several Telegram chat groups, assisting cruisers as they pass through "orca territory", all on a benevolent and volunteering basis. In some occasions, Rui also assisted cruisers who had sustained damage due to orca interactions.

Rui graciously volunteered to join us in our next webinar to introduce the "orcas.pt" platform and its chat channels. Based on his years-long experience in coordinating this community, he will also share the key "do's" and "don't's" in avoiding the orca hotspots, but also, what to do and what not to do, if - in the worst case scenario - you encounter an orca pod.

I have sailed through the orca hotspots several times in the past years, and personally, I found the "orcas.pt" information and community, SUPER helpful. Actually, last year, in the Bay of Biscay, we had an orca pod swimming towards our boat, dive under it, and - luckily - continued on their merry way without interacting with our boat. But I can tell you, we were sitting on the edge of our seats for a few minutes!

Our webinar will be held on “ZOOM” and consist of +- 60 minutes of presentation, followed by 30 minutes (or more if needed) of open Q-and-A/discussions/shared experiences amongst the participants.

Our webinars are free for all “Finding Dory” members. We will record the session and publish the link to the recording afterwards to all members of our community.

The instructions on how to join this webinar, are distributed to "Finding Dory" members only, rather than widely distributing the link via social media, mainly to avoid spammers to join in, and disturb our webinar.

So, if you want to join in for the webinars, first join the "Finding Dory" community, and via our Whatsapp group, we will send you details on how to join each webinar. Instructions on how to join the growing "Finding Dory" flotilla on Whatsapp, you can find in this Noforeignland blogpost.

About Rui:

My name is Rui Alves, and I love sailing since I was a young kid. I am the creator of orcas.pt, a project born from a deep personal concern: Observing the rising number of interactions between orcas and sailing vessels along the coasts of Portugal and Spain, I felt compelled to take action, not just for the safety of sailors, but also for the well-being of Iberian orcas.

About Peter:

I will be the moderator for this webinar, as part of my role as "house keeper" for the "Finding Dory" flotilla community. I grew up on the coast of the Northsea, and spent most of my childhood holidays on the water. My mum says I don't have blood but rather have "salt water" running through my veins. :-) As part of my pro-bono work, giving back to the sailing community, I train "newbies to yacht sailing", and mentor more experienced sailors who are new boat-owners or first-time open ocean crossers.

Top picture courtesy of orcas.pt.

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"Pan-Pan" in the middle of the Atlantic

Date: January 26, 2025.
Our position: Halfway between Cape Verde and Grenada, mid Atlantic

We are crossing the Atlantic on a 46ft monohull sailboat.
This is my second crossing this season, and I'm on a final sprint: Over the past 5 months, I had done (at that point) 9,000 nautical miles (or +- 17,000 km) of open ocean passages. And with (only) 1,000 miles to go before we reach Grenada in the Caribbean, I am really looking forward to be on "terra firma" for a while.

We are crossing the Atlantic in a flotilla of about 20 boats, called the Vikings Explorers. We left Las Palmas in the Canaries early January, spent a week together in Mindelo-Cape Verde, after which the whole fleet left for our next and final stop: the Spice Island of Grenada, in the Caribbean. Yay!

As most of the boats in our flotilla have a Starlink internet connection, we all chat regularly on our "Vikings" whatsapp group, exchanging pleasantries, pictures from life aboard, weather/sea state reports, and occasional reports of issues on our boats.

On January 26th, "S", skipper on one of our flotilla boats reported on our Whatsapp group he received a "strange" chat message on the Noforeignland app, from "N", the skipper of sailing vessel "D". Onboard "D" was a young Turkish couple with two kids onboard, who had met up with "S" in Morocco, several months ago. The sailing yacht "D" was not part of our flotilla, but were crossing the Atlantic by themselves, and got into some trouble, about 700 miles off Barbados.

The chat message "S" received was something like this:

"Dear S, we met in Morocco some months ago, and via Noforeignland, we can see you are not very far from us, crossing the Atlantic too. Two days ago, we started to have a problem on our boat. Two of our sidestays (Ed: the steel cables holding up the mast), snapped and our mast started to move a lot. We took down the sails, and we are now motoring. But we have only limited fuel on board. We are not sure how to secure the mast. For the past two days, we called a "pan-pan" on VHF radio, but we had no response. We are not experienced ocean sailors, and we need help. Our position is xxx yyy, our Whatsapp telephone number is xxxxx".

So "S", part of our flotilla, forwarded the summary of the message on our flotilla Whatsapp group, and this is how several of us got involved.

A year earlier, crossing the Atlantic in the ARC+ flotilla, we witnessed how "Hilma" (in the picture above), one of our fellow ARC+ transat crossers, had lost their mast due to a structural failure, three days out of Mindelo. At that time, several other boats from our ARC+ flotilla came to their rescue, transfering jerry-cans of extra fuel, so Hilma could motor against the prevailing winds and waves, back to Mindelo. A different story, but cutting the story short, Hilma made it safely back to Mindelo, later on, motored from Mindelo back to the Canaries, had a major repair done, and sailed across the Atlantic a year later.
So, while I was not directly involved in that incident, I "witnessed" it via the ARC+ Whatsapp group, and saw how incidents like these were quite traumatic for the crew and potentially dangerous for all involved.

Back to our story of "N", the skipper of sailing vessel "D".

I contacted "N" via their whatsapp telephone number, which they had passed on "S". My first message was something like this:

Hi sailing vessel "D", I am Peter, aboard sailing vessel "M", part of the Vikings Explorers. You sent a message to "S" who is part of our flotilla, saying you have a problem and need help. Can you give me details of your problems, your current position and how we can assist?

Their response was almost immediate:
Hi Peter, I am "N", the skipper. I have my wife and two kids on board. Two days ago, we had a major problem on our boat, and two of our side stays snapped. We took the sails down, but the mast is moving a lot. Our position is xxx yyy, and we are motoring. But we fear the mast can come down at any time. We do not have enough fuel to motor to the Caribbean, still 700 miles away. We gave repeated pan-pans on the VHF radio for the past two days, but had no response. So I resorted to try and contact other boats via the Noforeignland chat function. We are not sure what to do, at this point. We are thinking of abandoning ship, and get into the liferaft. We are not sure who to contact for help, at this point

They sent me some pictures and video from their rigging issues too...

As abandoning a perfectly solid boat, with no imminent danger of sinking, even if the boat has issues with the mast, is never a good option, I decided to give "N" a phone call. During the call, it was clear they were not really experienced ocean sailors, were quite exhausted at this point, and close to panicing

I relayed my conversation with "N" to our flotilla. One boat in our flotilla was about one-two days sailing from "N", and offered to give them extra fuel. But, a year earlier, with Hilma, having witnessed how tricky it is to transfer jerrycans of fuel from one sailboat to another, I did not feel comfortable with that solution.

It seemed that the priority would be for "D" to secure their mast. Several boats in our flotilla, via our Whatsapp group, exchanged information on how to use extra ropes and the main halyard, to secure the mast, which -clearly- was the main priority. All of the information was passed on to "N", who followed our advice, and sent me pictures how they jury-rigged their mast, which seemed more stable now.

In the same flurry of messages, the "Vikings Explorers" coordinators, Carlota and Oliver, passed on the telephone numbers of the Barbados and Martinique MRCC (Sea rescue centres), who would be able to assist. I passed those on to "N".

I had another phone call with "N", and there was clearly less panic in his voice now. He asked advice how to get extra fuel so he could motor the remaining 700 miles to Barbados. He would need an extra 150 liters of fuel.

In came "J", the skipper of an other yacht in our flotilla. "J" and I had a Whatsapp call. "J" was very level-headed and pragmatic. We agreed that the best option was to call the Barbados MRCC (Sea rescue center), inform them of the pan-pan, and ask for their advice.

And that is exactly what "J" did. He relayed the situation, the GPS position of "N", and their Whatsapp contact number. So, from then on all seemed to be in the hands of the Barbados MRCC.

I had several chat exchanges with "N", informing him the Barbados MRCC would contact him, and propose a plan.

But meanwhile, the fuel situation on "N" got critical, and they shut down their engine, to save fuel, which also meant their batteries did not get recharged. To save battery power, they also switched off their VHF and Starlink. So,... a few hours later the Barbados MRCC informed us they had problems to contact "N", and made it difficult for them to coordinate any rescue actions needed.

What followed was a flash of exchanges between "N", "J" and me, in which I explained to "N" that the Barbados MRCC was trying to contact them, so they had to monitor their incoming calls on Starlink, to coordinate with the Barbados MRCC directly.

Which "N" did. Barbados MRCC said they were diverting a cargo ship to drop of extra fuel for them. Good news.

But.. in an effort to safe fuel and battery power, "N" decided to switch off his VHF and Starlink once again, and a few hours later, "J" was informed by the Barbados MRCC, that they had diverted a cargo ship to the last known position of "N", but the cargo ship had not been able to raise them on VHF or Starlink and could not see them on AIS neither, so the cargo vessel continued on its course. Bummer. A missed chance for "N"'s rescue

Eventually, I got hold of "N" again, several hours later, and advised him not to switch off VHF nor Starlink, as he had just missed one cargo vessel coming to his rescue. He could not miss the next chance of rescue. He agreed, and from then on, kept his communications tools powered up.

Several hours later, we got a message from "N" that Barbados MRCC contacted him, as they had diverted yet another cargo vessel to his location, to drop fuel.

Some hours later, we received another message from "N" that indeed a cargo vessel had met up with them, created a "lee", for them to come along side, and the cargo vessel had dropped several jerry cans of diesel, enough for them to continue motoring all the way to Barbados. He sent me some pictures as the cargo ship approached them, and of the jerrycans of extra fuel they had transferred to them.

We kept following "N" for the next days, up to the point they safely anchored in Barbados a week later, had their rigging problems resolved, and continued for a happy cruising season in the Caribbean..

Some lessons-learned out of all of this:

Don't panic. As long as your vessel is sound and floating, don't even think of stepping into a life raft. The generic advice is: "Don't step down into a liferaft. You will only need to abandon ship, if you need to step up into a liferaft" - hard as it may sound.

For any ocean crossing, have a list of emergency telephone numbers for the coastal MRCC stations covering your area.

Ensure you have long-range full-proof communications onboard (internet or telephone, Starlink or Iridium/InReach) to communicate via voice or Whatsapp

Ocean passages are very demanding on your vessel. Have a thorough standing rigging inspection done before you embark on any long distance crossing

Don't cross an ocean "alone". Link up with other fellow cruisers who are crossing around the same time. Link up with them, and create "a community" (and Whatsapp group) with them, so you can look after each other . If things go wrong, that community will help you.

With a thanks to all involved, especially the Barbados MRCC (who were super professional and effective) and the cargo vessel which came to "D"'s rescue.

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Don't just prepare the boat, but also prepare yourself for an ocean crossing

Guest post by Sue Sagar

Last winter, in the middle of the Atlantic, I found asking myself "why did I sign up for this?"... This led me to think deeply about how we spent so much time focusing on getting the boat ready to cross an ocean and very little time on preparing ourselves physically and mentally. And I published an Instagram post on this topic.

By now that simple Instagram post has over 2 million views: it is a "tongue in cheek", light-hearted look at how to prepare in your home before you even move on board: Things like, don’t walk around your house unless you have one hand to hold on to a wall or fixture at all times, even crawl sometimes; run hard into the corners of your benches until you have a bruise count of 5 or higher; get someone to slide your plates across the table as you try to put food on them (remember you can only do this one-handed!); set an alarm for every few hours overnight, and then get up and stare at numbers on a navigation screen for at least 3 hours during your shift; ...and by all means, don’t leave the house for 17 days, not for any reason... ;-)

Little did I know this Instagram post would hit a nerve with so many people, hence I wanted to put down my thoughts in this blogpost.

From the day we chose to join the Viking Explorers Rally and cross the Atlantic, our minds were constantly working on "our lists". We had lists for ‘what equipment to buy’, ‘what to fix’, ‘first aid and safety’, and the ‘provisioning lists’, all of which we worked through meticulously. I’m sure all past transatlantic crossers know what I am talking about. The lists seemed endless. Trying to guess what will break, and the correct spare parts required... How much food did we'd need, not only for the crossing, but anticipating the prices in the Caribbean and planning well ahead... It all took a lot of thought. And a lot of time...

What I didn’t anticipate was the mental and physical difficulty I would experience during the crossing. A crew member on another vessel in our Viking Explorers fotilla, who had crossed the Atlantic East-West five times before, said somewhere along the trip that our crossing was one of the most uncomfortable he had ever done.... And that counts for something...

Please know that I am not trying to scare you here. In fact, I was never scared. "Anxious" yes, anxious of what might break, but never did I fear for my life. I just think that if I had taken the time to think more about how *I* would mentally and physically respond, I might have taken the time to stop and enjoy these moments, during the crossing, more and differently.

A fellow sailor and I gave each other a teary hug as we were about to set off to Grenada from Mindelo in Cape Verde. I said to her, "ít’s ok, we’ve got this” but little did I know what "this" was! Our crossing was predicted to have consistent wind but with some cross swell at short intervals.

Not being much of a sailor, I really didn’t know what this meant, but the reality was that rather than a big gentle following sea, we also had side waves which slapped against the hull, pushing the boat in a strange rocking motion. Yes, we were on a catamaran, hence the hull slapping, but fellow monohull owners will tell you that the motion made their lifes difficult too. They were sleeping wedged under tables on the floor, and catching things which came flying out every time they opened the cupboards.

If you are on a catamaran and haven’t experienced big seas for a sustained period of time, as I hadn’t, be prepared for the hull noise. It’s not all the time, but when it hits, it is like someone is hitting the hull with a sledge hammer. The noise is incredible. They say the boat can cope with more than we can, and in my case this was soooo true. Youtube videos really don’t show this reality, or at least I hadn’t heard the actual noise nor felt it, so it was quite a shock. This, along with the noise of the water rushing along the hulls and, in my case the autopilot constantly running, behind my bed, was overwhelming at times.

Then there is the constant movement. Yes, I know we all live on a boat and it is always moving, but on our crossing, it was so relentless. You couldn’t take one step without holding on, let alone cook, make coffee, shower and sleep! I anticipated there would be calm days, where we could swim in 5000m of water, relax and actually hope for more wind. Just like on the Youtube videos I watched before the crossing! But this wasn’t the case for us.

I’m not saying that I expected it to be all smooth sailing, but there was no reprieve. I had planned to bake, do daily stretches, keep the crew active with yoga, play games and puzzles etc, but for me, it was a struggle even just to get from the cabin to the galley. None of what I had planned to do during the crossing, actually happened, and this was so disappointing to me.

Even with all the seasick remedies in the world, I still struggled with nausea. I was never physically sick but it was a continuous battle. --Yes, at this point, you might ask what I was even doing out there!-- During our crossing some fellow die-hard sailors in our flotilla said they felt the same, so be prepared. And some of your crew might suffer too, and this adds another dimension: the challenge to have one (or more) fellow crew members down.

Overall I was overstimulated: the noise, the movement and the nausea, was something I could not control.

You should know that not all participants in our flotilla felt the same as me. But many did and we shared our thoughts constantly during the crossing, over a Whatsapp group. Indeed some embraced the challenge and fully enjoyed it. Hopefully this will be you. But if not, and if you find the Atlantic crossing challenging, like me, know that you are not a failure. That you haven’t let yourself or the crew down. You might, simply..., have found your limits and you are just.... challenged by them. Know, though, that this ordeal will end, eventually, and that these thoughts and feelings are normal!

My mind and body kept screaming at me to make it stop. Of course it couldn’t and it was hard for my husband and our crew to see me "not coping". Looking back, I wish I had been able to breath and appreciate this extra-ordinary thing I was doing. Even once we arrived in the Caribbean, it took me a long while to really appreciate the enormity, of crossing an ocean. I should have been kinder to myself, but "in the moment", I just felt so... inadequate. I wish that someone had sat me down and explained this to me before we left. Although I would have said that "I'll be fine, I’m tough", but I wish I had known that feeling this way, was normal. And that it was ok.... That would have been a huge comfort to me. Hence me sharing my experience with you now.

So what do I suggest? Before you depart, stop and think about how you will react when you are overstimulated, and feeling "on the edge". What tools do you have to help you relax and make sure you feel comfortable sharing how you are feeling with the crew.
Create a Whatsapp group with other transat-ers, who feel challenged too. We did this, in addition to the Viking Rally Whatsapp group, a smaller group which originally started as "Provisioning Tips and Tricks to share", but during the passage, it became "SSaSSY" ("Scared S**tless and Still Sailing Yachts"). We shared daily memes and quotes and supported each other on a more personal level.

I’m sure that you will each have your own personal experience. Please know that you are doing something amazing, and it is all worth it! And the Caribbean *is* wonderful! :-)

I’ll finish with a quote from Peter, the sailor in our group who was completing his 14th open ocean crossing. And I wish I had read this and reflected on it before the crossing... But I was too focused on other things (the darned "boat lists"!):
You are about to cross the Atlantic. It will be tough. You will lack sleep. The environment will be harsh. You might get sick or highly uncomfortable. You will at times come to thoughts of, ‘why did I decide to do this?'
But unless, in the midst of the hard times, you stop for a moment, look around you, and take in where you are and the extra-ordinary thing you are doing at that very moment, it will all be over before you know it. And when it is over, unless you stopped to enjoy the pain and hardship, for ever you will regret you did not enjoy that moment of "extra ordinary", and that you are doing this with the few other people in the world who are also privileged to share this adventure and experience this. So enjoy the moment, no matter how tough it is, enjoy the extra ordinary adventure you are embarking on.

And if you jump ship, make it a jump of joy, AFTER your transatlantic crossing, as we did, in Grenada!

Fair winds to all sailors about to cross the Atlantic in the next season...

Sue Sagar is a retired Marketing, Communications and Events Manager, who grew up in Melbourne-Australia, far away from the ocean. In 2021 her husband dragged her away from family and friends to pursue an adventure which centered around water! She kicked and screamed, and found herself on Bonnie Doon, a catamaran in Greece heading for the Atlantic! Still married and a few years later they find themselves in the Caribbean with the plan to sail across the Pacific to Australia in 2026. You can follow her (and Bonny Doon's) adventures via Instagram

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Announcing Finding Dory - Webinar 2: Food/Medical Provisioning and Passage Nutrition

 

In collaboration with Helena and Steve from "Noforeignland", I have the pleasure and honour to coordinate/administrate "Finding Dory", a social community of cruisers who plan to cross the Atlantic (East-West) next winter (2025-2026 season).

You can read about the background, purpose and setup of this group, and planned webinars in this post on Noforeignland - which will also guide you how to join this Whatsapp-based community.

So,... we are ready to kick off our second free webinar on August 11 (20:00 Rome time, 18:00 GMT). And I am SUPER-thrilled to have two formidable ladies presenting this webinar on food and medical supplies provisioning, and overall passage nutrition. A well-fed crew is a happy crew. And likewise, a healthy crew, is a happy crew too. And Carlota and Sarah will help you, to keep your crew happy, I can assure you!

While our first webinar was more of an overall introduction to "boat and crew preparation", we are now ready, with the next webinars, to dive "into the deep", discussing specific topics in depth.

Carlota, based on her extensive experience, will cover:

FIRST AID KIT:

Maintenance, storage and things to remember.

Content of the kit divided in medical supplies and medicines for each need.

FOOD PROVISIONING:

Fresh Produce Guide

Boat pantry divided in each group of food (f.e cans, dry goods…)

Storage of fresh produce and cans

Pest proofing

Using fridge and freezers

Using a high-pressure cooker

Waste management at sea

Then, Sarah will join in:

With her nutrionist's background and experience, in keeping even the most competitive regatta crews well-fed in longer passages, she will give us a absolute unique perspective on the importance of "quality and well-balanced nutrition":

Rethinking Provisioning: Why "Food as Fuel" for a crossing

What your body really needs for an ocean crossing and how to make it happen inspite of the confines of a sailboat galley

Small Vegan Kitchen’s Atlantic staples: Smart, Flexible, Minimal

Easy, high-performance meal ideas (One-pot, No-waste, Feel-Good)

This webinar will be held on “ZOOM” and consist of +- 60 minutes of presentation, followed by 30 minutes (or more if needed) of open Q-and-A/discussions/shared experiences amongst the participants.

Our webinars are free for all “Finding Dory” members. We will record the session and publish the link to the recording afterwards to all members.

The instructions on how to join this webinar, are distributed to "Finding Dory" members only, rather than widely distributing the link via social media, mainly to avoid spammers to join in, and disturb our webinar.

So, if you want to join in for the webinars, first join the "Finding Dory" community, and via our Whatsapp group, we will send you details on how to join each webinar. Instructions on how to join the growing "Finding Dory" flotilla on Whatsapp, you can find in this Noforeignland blogpost.

About Carlota:

Carlota Texeira is a sailor and cruiser. She has crossed the Atlantic and lived in the Caribbean for six years. Based in Gran Canaria, Carlota has been supporting transatlantic sailors for the past nine years with her local knowledge and experience. She is one of the organizers of the Viking Explorers Rally, a transatlantic event that departs every January since 2018. She also runs Nautical Essentials, a company dedicated to assisting yachts with everything they need before setting sail across the Atlantic, from logistics and provisioning to local support and last-minute solutions. Carlota is also featured and recommended in the "Superyacht Services Guide", a trusted resource in the global yachting industry.

About Sarah:

Sarah Powell-Fowler is a plant-based nutrition advocate, certified coach, and full-time sailor living aboard a 41-foot sailboat with her family. From her blog Small Vegan Kitchen, she creates practical, nutrient-rich meals for cruisers and high-performance superyacht teams alike. Author of No Eggs No Worries, a guide to plant-based alternatives for traditional egg recipes, she leads provisioning workshops, contributes to publications like Noonsite, The Cruising Association, Practical Sailor, and NZ Yachting and Boating, and shares her food-as-fuel philosophy on sailing and wellness podcasts. Her mission? To show that even in the most compact galleys, and for high-performance regatta crew, food can be delicious, healthy, and powerfully supportive of life at sea.

About Peter:

I will only be the moderator for this webinar, as part of my role as "administrator" for the "Finding Dory" flotilla. Since I retired from my job in the UN, I am a quasi full-time instructor-mentor-trainer supporting fellow cruisers and new boat owners. I am also a regatta sailor on "bigger" boats.

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Announcing our first "Finding Dory" transat webinar: "The Basic Checklist For an Ocean Passage".

 

I have the pleasure and honour to coordinate/administrate "Finding Dory", a social community of cruisers who plan to cross the Atlantic (East-West) next winter (2025-2026 season), in collaboration with Helena and Steve from "Noforeignland".

This is the 4th time/season we "organize" and support a flottila of cruisers crossing the Atlantic East-West. This season, we're organizing the group early on, in the season, and also, in collaboration with "Noforeignland" and several experts supporting our initiative, present several webinars to assist the aspiring "transat-ers" in preparing their boat, and crew, for a safe passage.

You can read about the background, purpose and setup of this group, and planned webinars in this post on Noforeignland - which will also point you how to join this Whatsapp-based community.

We are ready to kick off our first webinar, in a series of several webinars, on July 22nd. This first introductory webinar will cover “the basic checklist for an ocean passage”. (from boat prep, to crew selection, food management, weather routing, safety, comms, watch systems etc…).

We will “touch” different topics at an “introductory” level, without yet going into the topics real deep… Topics like food management, provisioning, insurance, routing and weather etc.. we will delve into, at a much deeper level, in the further upcoming webinars).

The webinars will be held on “ZOOM” and consist of +- 45 minutes of presentation, followed by 30 minutes (or more if needed) of open Q-and-A/discussions/shared experiences amongst the participants.

This webinars are free for all “Finding Dory” members. We will record the session and publish the link to the recording afterwards to all members.

The instructions on how to join this webinar, are distributed to "Finding Dory" members only, rather than widely distributing the link via social media, mainly to avoid spammers to join in, and disturb our webinar.

So, if you want to join in for the webinars, first join the "Finding Dory" community, and via our Whatsapp group, we will send you details on how to join each webinar. Instructions on how to join the growing "Finding Dory" flotilla on Whatsapp, you can find in this Noforeignland blogpost.

About me:

And for those who don't know me yet, I am Peter and I "administrate" the "Finding Dory" flotilla. Since I retired from my job in the UN, I am a quasi full-time instructor-mentor-trainer supporting fellow cruisers and new boat owners. I am also a regatta sailor on "bigger" boats. Though I have about 50,000 Nm under my keel, with +- 14 open ocean passages and 6 transats, I provide my support for free, as I want to "give back" to the sailing community in exchange to what it gave to me: a life-long joyful experience of sailing and meeting other like-minded people. I am strong believer of "give joy, share your experience, support others", and "good karma will come back to you".

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"Spin-a-thong" - the business case for single-use spinnakers

Log extract.
Date: 20-Nov-2023
Position: Between Cape Verde and Grenada, we're sailing as part of the ARC+ fleet

Prelude:
The ARC+ fleet is in Mindelo, Cape Verde, and most boats have their laundry done by one of the local ladies. Unfortunately, they were a bit overwhelmed and quite a bit of laundry got mixed up between different bags. So, while in Mindelo, there was a vivid exchange on our Whatsapp group, between the different boats, with crew posting pictures of different clothing, asking "Got this returned in my laundry bag, it is not mine. Whose is it?"
Equally, there was an equally vivid exchange of people looking for "lost laundry"

Short extract from the ARC+ chat group on Whatsapp while in Mindelo, Cape Verde.

John: Another pair of shorts found in our laundry bag. (picture inserted). Is not ours. Who does it belong to?
David: Not mine. I lost red shorts, though.
Laura: In my returned laundry bag, I miss a set of black lace ladies' underwear.
Peter (me): I will give it back to you in Grenada.

Now back to our topic.

I hate spinnakers.
Those light sail power chutes are an endless source of problems on sailing yachts.

Several ARC+ boats had issues with their spinnakers already on leg 1 to Mindelo.

A friend had their spin wrapping around their genoa, making both unusable for most of leg 1.

When I saw the shreads of David’s spin, at the dock in Mindelo, I sat on the bow of our boat, crying...

But then I had a bright idea: “single use spinnakers”!

Biodegradable spinnakers which you hoist and never lower: you just cut halyard, sheets and tack line, and let go.

We can make it a sustainable business by using recycled materials.
Like using ladies' lace underwear. I am happy to offer my vast collection of ladies' lace underwear for trials of single-use spinnakers.
Through the years I collected loads of red, black, pink ladies underwear. This would make it a nice recognizable brand mark for our spinnakers: many different small patches of a wide variety of colours. And smells. Some would be very very VERY small patches, indeed. In Mindelo, I bribed the local ladies doing the ships' laundry, to give me the nicest lace ones. - Sorry Laura! - So, I am prepared for this business case, and pitch in!...

Is lace biodegradable? I know it needs to be washed at 30°. But is lace biodegradable?

What would be a good brand name for single use spinnakers, made from recycled ladies' lace underwear?

“One night with you”?
“Yes, but once only! “?
“Spinning thongs”?
“The Thong Thing”
“Thongs are in the air, everywhere I look around”?
“Give thongs a chance”?
“Thongs Go Kiting”?

I think I need to cut down on coffee. :slight_smile:

(signed) Peter Pan.

UPDATE: the name and byline suggested by Audrey:
“Spin-a-thong - "Disposable spinnakers which can get you through every crack in the wind"

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The "Adopt-my-dad" initiative, during the 2023 ARC+

Passage log excerpt
Date: 27-Nov-2023
Position: Somewhere between Cape Verde and Grenada

Aboard S/V Sturdeee (yep, that is with three "e"s but skipper Ian finds it funny to spell out the vessel's name, ending in "Echo, Echo, Echo,...."), a Lagoon 450F catamaran.
On board: formidable skipper Ian, equally formidable p(r)etty officer Dee (Ian's partner), crew mate Michelle, my oldest daughter Lana and myself.
We're sailing a trans-atlantic with the ARC+ flotilla of 100 other boats. Most boats have Starlink, so the flotilla's Whatsapp group is very active, and fun. This is an extract of one of the chat exchanges

Protagonists in this chat: Apart from Lana and myself: Audrey, Nick and Mark who are sailing on other boats in our ARC+ fleet. Actually, Mark was also the skipper I did my very first transatlantic with, back in 2005. Audrey is one of the most hilarious people I ever met, possibly more nuts than me. Moaied is, well, you'll have to figure that one out yourself.

Extract from the ARC+ Whatsapp group chat while under way:

Peter: Lana, honey, can you please tell me where you put the coffee?
Audrey is typing….
Moaied is typing…
Peter: Lana, I promise to let you out of the front sail locker if you'd just tell me where you’ve been hiding the coffee?
Audrey: ARC+ most patient daughter award goes to Lana.
Peter: Audrey,... WOMAN! I thought you were on my side?!?
Moaied is typing…
Audrey: Maybe Sturdeeeeeee should trawl Peter’s witty jokes to catch their fish
Peter: Audrey, relaying message from Lana: “Audrey, I already told you several times: DO NOT ENCOURAGE HIM… If he really lets go of his limited self-inhibitions and social self-restrictions and subconscious suppressions, he will be his usual nuts, and nobody wants that, right?”
Peter: PS: actual fact: Lana holds a bachelor and a masters in psychology… I am not kidding you. But here I am kidding: That is why I am only allowed in a social environment when she is around so she can properly warn and safeguard the others.
Moaied is typing…
Audrey: Like I said, most patient daughter award.
Lana: Thanks for the recognition! This is definitely the biggest challenge in patience that life has thrown at me. One tip: never let your dad convince you to go on a boat trip for more than 1 day.
Moaied is typing…
Mark: I can save a dried flying fish for you Peter if you want to smoke it with your instant soup mushrooms. Did Lana really know what she was taking on ?
Peter: Mark, at this point, lacking coffee, I am open for experimenting with any stimulant. Cup-a-soup mushroom flavour is now finished. Cup-a-soup onion flavour seems slightly milder.
Audrey is typing….
Mark is typing….
Lana is typing…
Moaied is typing…
Mark: Lana, perhaps pack some Valium next time. You could always take it yourself if it doesn’t work on dad.
Lana: We’ve been slowly going through my secret drug stash, but nothing seems to work… Anyone up for adopting a crazy sailor? My dad is ready for pickup in the middle of the Atlantic...
Mark: I have adopted him before. It’s someone else’s turn now!
Nick: I bid 20 goats
Peter: I found the coffee.
Lana: Oh, no. Here we go...
Moaied is typing…

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Sucking or blowing, that's the question.

This post is all about clouds. And winds that go with them...

I think for us, sea-faring people, the difference between "sailors" and "Sailors" (similarly to the difference between "men and boys", "girls and women", "chickens and eagles", "Bambi and Rambo") is (partly) made by "how well we can read the clouds".

Why is "reading" clouds important?

After 50,000 Nmiles of open ocean passages, I have experienced first hand how sailors look at weather apps, read something like "sustained NE-lies of 20 knots, gusts up to 25 knots for the next 24 hours", and interpret this as if it was the Holy Truth. And yet, at 2 AM, in the pitch dark, we get hit by an hour of gusts up to 40 knots and 90° wind shifts, having us struggling to reef our sails.

Likewise, when sailing in-between islands, all too many times, we rounded a corner or headland, and the wind changed from 12 knots to 35 knots, with an almost 180° shift, with the crew scrambling from bikini-sailing to survival mode with sails flapping in all directions. And that, while the weather prediction called for a 12-15 knots stable wind...

With weather apps like Predictwind or Windy (that is "windy.com", which rocks and not "windy.app", which sucks), getting better and better, in my opinion, we have become too reliant to sail solely on these apps to predict our wind and weather.

We forget that these apps are mostly based on larger scale atmospheric predictions - the dynamic between low and high pressure systems mostly (I am over-simplifying bit here).

But we forget that these apps are not that good at predicting precise local weather conditions, conditions defined by e.g. local topography or clouds. Many of us have experienced weird wind shifts caused by funnelling or katabatic winds when sailing close to coastal mountain ranges or in between islands. And likewise, any experienced sailor knows how clouds can cause similar wind changes as we approach them. Weather apps, in my experience, can make a "guess"-timate of those local conditions, but can not predict them precisely. At all.

This is no blame on those prediction apps, as these local conditions can be ..eh.. very "local": When sailing between islands, a minimum wind direction change can alter the funnelling effect between islands significantly. Likewise, a cloud, based on its density and saturation, at the moment it passes us, can make a very significant difference in wind direction and strength.

On this post, we'll forget about coastal sailing, islands and mountains, but we'll concentrate on "reading the clouds" while sailing offshore.

There are two types of clouds

There are "blowing clouds" and "sucking clouds" (and that is my own terminology). "Blowing clouds" are spilling energy outwards, and "sucking clouds" absorb energy inwards. End of paragraph.

Blowing clouds

"Blowing clouds", are mature clouds. They have accumulated enough energy to become saturated, and they will be spilling out that energy. That "spilling energy" will be in the form rain and wind.

You can recognize a "blowing" or "mature" cloud, by looking at its shape and colour, and looking what is happening under that cloud.
A blowing cloud towers high above the horizon. In its more extreme form, they form a "T"-shape.
Typically they are also darker in colour than their "sucking" sisters which are still building up that energy.
If you look at the air below "blowing clouds", you will see the dark shade of rain underneath.

A note of wisdom here: sometimes a dark area below a cloud can be the shadow of the cloud, rather than rain. To distinguish between "rain" and "shadow", I look at the position of the sun versus the cloud: If the shadow beneath the cloud is in a straight line from the sun to the cloud, there is a good chance the dark area below a cloud is a shade, and not rain.
Another way to look at it, is to look at the direction of the shade: if you look at the shade from the bottom of the cloud towards the sea, and the shape of the shade follows the prevailing wind direction, there is a good chance, it is rain. If not, it might be a shade.
Rule of thumb, but no guarantee.

Back to blowing clouds: as these are mature and saturated clouds, they spill energy. If you would be an eagle, and look at the cloud from right above it, the winds would spill, from the centre of the cloud, 360° outwards. The higher and the darker the cloud, the more mature/saturated it is, and the stronger the winds it will spill from the center outwards. Right underneath the cloud, there will be a strong down-draft, with rain, and hardly any wind.

What does this mean for you, sailing transatlantic and thus sailing downwind: You see a dark and large cloud coming in from behind. You see the darker colours of the skies below the cloud, showing rain. This means that in front of the cloud, as you are sailing downwind, the spilling ("blowing") wind will amplify your prevailing (atmospheric) wind. That "amplification" might be anything from 10 to 20 knots: so if you have a prevailing wind of 20 knots and a "blowing cloud" catches up on you, right in front of the cloud, you might get gusts of 30 or 40 knots. Right underneath the cloud, you will get the downdraft (and the rain), reducing your wind significantly, or reducing it to almost nil...
And once the cloud passed you, its "blowing" behaviour, the wind it spills, will kill your prevailing wind for some time, with either "less wind", or "no wind", or in extreme cases, headwind as the spilling wind is blowing against the prevailing (atmospheric) wind

And mind you, this is an example when sailing downwind, and being hit from a "blowing" cloud from behind (sailing downwind, all clouds will hit you from behind).

One note here, though: not all "blowing clouds", will hit you overhead. You will have just as many "blowing clouds", passing you on the side (and I prefer these clouds to pass on my side, I hate to be hit directly with 35-40 knots squalls directly). But by observing the size and colour of the cloud, the colour of the shade below the cloud (density of the rain), you can estimate the strength of the spilling winds it will bring to you. And if you follow my mental eagle-eye picture of "blowing clouds spilling wind 360° from its center, you can then predict what windshifts you might have, as that cloud passes left or right from you.

Sucking clouds

Sucking clouds are young clouds, which are not "mature" or "saturated" yet. They are lighter in colour. They typically do not tower that high. And they don't have signs of rain underneath them.

If you'd "fly like an eagle" (Reference to a 1970'ies song by the Steve Miller Band, but most of the youngsters amongst you, won't remember neither the song, nor the band. - hey remember their song "The Joker"? - "Some people call me the space cowboy. dddadadadum.. " ). Anyways, if you'd be an eagle and flew above a sucking cloud (oh man, I can't get that song out of my head "Time keeps on slipping, slipping, slipping")...

Anyways, so, if you'd be an eagle and fly right above a sucking cloud, you'd see, the air from 360° off the centre of the cloud, being sucked into the cloud. So, if you'd be on a transatlantic crossing, with the prevailing winds coming from behind and a "sucking cloud" approaches you, then, as the cloud approaches you, you will have less wind in front of the cloud.
Underneath the cloud, as air is sucked upwards, you will have slightly less wind, and once the cloud passes, its "sucking" will amplify the prevailing wind speed, and this will increase the wind AFTER the cloud passes (versus "increased wind in front of a cloud, if it is a mature blowing cloud")....

Sucking clouds are typically not as violent as blowing clouds, but they can still kill, shift or amplify your prevailing winds.

Sailing transatlantic East-West. What does this mean for you?

Those who know me, know that E-W transats, "are my thing". Not only because, by now, I've done six of them, but also, because for many cruisers and crew, this will be their first (and for many more, last), major open ocean passage. Being a moderator for the Noforeignland's "Crossing the Transat East-West" Facebook group, I see firsthand, how this is on the bucket list of many people, and the only open ocean passage they will ever do... Thus, time to spill some wisdom in that context, then.

So... what does this sucking and blowing mean for you, and how do you "work those clouds?"


(1) Clouds on an E-W transat, are born off Africa, and mature as they go across the Atlantic. Thus, the closer you get to the Caribbean, the more the water temperature raises, the more water evaporates in the air, the more mature clouds you will get, and the higher the chance you will be hit by a squall (a "blowing cloud"), thus the higher your vigilance should be to monitor for these "blowing clouds".
(2) During the day, visually check the clouds behind you. Is it a sucking or a blowing cloud approaching you? Can you change your course to avoid blowing clouds?
(3) As the dew point lowers during nights and early mornings, the higher the chances to get hit by a violent "blowing cloud", forming into a squall. In the dark, at night, check your radar every 30 minutes or so. If you see a dense cloud forming, try to change course a little, try to avoid the center of it. If the cloud is that big that you can not avoid it, be prepared. Reef properly. Way on forehand. Get some hands on deck to deal with the squall.
(4) As you approach the Caribbean, and clouds get more mature, and the probability to be hit by a squall gets higher: avoid flying spinnakers during night time. Nobody will punish you if you arrive a day later than planned, because you went slower during night time. But you surely will have more peaceful nights looking at the stars, while sailing on less canvas during the night, rather than trying to gain speed with your spinnaker up at night. As we approach the Caribbean, I always urge us to reduce canvas,

Have a safe transat everyone. And learn to read the clouds. Weather prediction apps are good, but keeping a good eye (or radar-eye) on the clouds behind you, and interpreting the blowing or sucking clouds well, will save your day...

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Not what I expected to see after 10,000 miles of ocean passages.

In each of the past winter seasons, I did one trans-Atlantic trip. I came back from each transat super-fit and in top shape. This year, it all went a bit different.

Already in June, I had committed to Chris and Amy, owners of "Saffron Star", to help them sail their Sun Odyssey 46, from Gibraltar to the Canaries and onwards to the Caribbean. Late June, my friend, work colleague and sailing partner since 30 years, Mats, had bought Manami II, a 46 ft Oceanis. He had set his goal to sail transatlantic in January, and asked me to join him.
I thought: "Ok, this is not what I had in mind, but that seems do-able", and to be honest, sailing two transats in one season is kinda special, something that would challenge me. And I like challenges.

Came August, and Mats had his boat almost ready. But not quite...: Manami II being in Vigo - NW Spain - in the holiday season, was not the best place to get the last preparations/repairs done: technicians were on holiday until September, and spare parts were difficult to import... So, when Mats asked me, early August, to "come and sail with him", I thought he meant some day sailing around Vigo... But, no, tired of endless delays in repairs, Mats wanted to sail the boat to the UK early September, do the work there, and sail back South, to the Canaries, a month later.

We both knew that was going to be a bit of a challenge: as of September, the North Atlantic depressions start rolling in, making the Spain-UK stretch (and vice-versa) a potential challenge: I could see, timing (and weather) would be an issue, and that would have me sailing open ocean passages continuously from September until February. "But so be it", I thought, "time to push my 65-year old body a bit...!".

Vigo to Hamble:

So, on Sept 3rd I joined Mats and two crew we recruited, for some test sails in Vigo and boat/provisioning preps. Despite some pending issues with the navigation system, and despite the fact we had never sailed this boat in open ocean passages before, we agreed to push on. We had a weather window to the UK, and off we went, through the Orca danger area off Cape Finesterra, over the Bay of Biscay, northwards.
It was a rough passage, to say the least: as predicted, we had either no wind, or 30 knots from the nose. We pushed on, with watches rotating 4 hours on and 4 hours off, over Biscay, around Bretagne, through the English Channel and the Solent, to arrive in the Solent 6 days later, at 4:30 AM. This turned out to be probably my roughest passage ever...

Gibraltar to Lanzarote:

I left the UK for a four days lay-over in Rome, enough to repack my bags, and fly off to Gibraltar, to join Chris and Amy on Saffron Star. Three days of boat prep and provisioning, and off we went to La Graciosa, the most Northern island of the Canaries. A nice sail, again with 4h on/4h off watches, with moderate steady winds, and without major issues, apart from the prop shaft disconnecting from the engine. But that was quickly repaired by Chris.
We arrived in the anchorage of La Graciosa, in the Canaries on October 5th, the birthday of skipper Chris and myself. We had a relaxed day with a nice lunch onshore, and the next day, I flew to the UK to re-join Mats.

Hamble to the Canaries (again):

I left Gracioso in shorts and Tshirt. Took a ferry, with crew mate Edu, to Lanzarote, a taxi to the main town, and a plane to London Gatwick. Arrived in London, standing in the railway station with the speakers announcing major storms and disruptions, taking three different train connections, only be dropped off by the taxi at the hostel of the Royal Southern Yacht Club in Hamble (which I did not know at that time, but apparently, this Club is an absolute world icon in yachting/racing)....

So I found myself at the entrance door of the Hamble Royal Southern Yacht Club, at 9 PM, in the rain, with my sandals and T-shirt, poorly covered by a rain jacket, knocking on the locked door, trying to get into the hostel, while nobody answered.
That was probably my "low" moment in the past 7 months. In my sandals, and a thin layer of clothes on, just trying to get into the hostel and shelter, before embarking on a 1,700 Nmiles (3,000 km) trip, back to warmth of the Canaries....
And embarking we did. Two days of prep on Manami II, and we left Port Hamble at 3:30 AM (which was the only tide/weather window we had in the next days), with an air temperature of 3°C, and a "frost warning" on Predictwind.

On Predictwind, I had previously seen gale/high seas/gusts/lightning/fog warnings before, but never a "frost warning"... We cast off knowing that for the next days, we would have to negotiate the Southampton cargo traffic and the Solent's complex navigation markers in the dark, the Solent and Needles tides (which we had planned JUST right!), the English Channel traffic (the busiest and most chaotic maritime spot in the world), onto the Bay of Biscay (one of the most notorious sailing areas in the world), past Finesterra and the Spanish/Portuguese West coast (notorious for its recent orca attacks on yachts)....

All while sailing in 4 hours on, 4 hours off watches, again, with two sea sick crew (during the first 48 hours), one freezing crew, and chaotic cargo/fishing vessels traffic all around us in the English Channel.
But we did it. Mats prepared the boat just right. Anne prepared the provisioning just right. And it was a pleasure to share my watches with Alf...
But not my idea of champaign sailing. Not close to anyone's perception of the romantic idea of sailing. Until 2 weeks later, we reached the island of Graciosa in the North of the Canaries, where I left Saffron Star, just one month ago...Déjà vu!

But in the midst of it, leaving the UK and passing the Channel, I was thinking..: "what the fudge"?!. It was a rough passage, again... I had more clothing layers on than I had during my past two Antarctic expeditions. It was bitter bitter cold. It was wet. It was windy. And the sea was pretty wild.
Each time I pulled myself up from the passage way, after a short sleep, into the pitch dark cockpit at 8 PM, or midnight or 4 AM, only to faintly see two frozen-stiff figures (Mats and Anne, who did the watch before me) in the dimmed lights, knowing that would be my life for the next 4 hours, together with Alf.... In the dark, cold and wet open air....
I thought "what the fudge" at that moment... Why the fu(dge) are we doing this for? Where is the fun in all of this?!

And yet, we survived. We dodged the Southampton and Solent cargo traffic, the Needles, the English Channel, Biscay, Finesterra, and beyond. We had everything from "no wind", to 35 knots, from totally flat seas to beating into 4 meter waves... Only to arrive back and anchor at Graciosa, one month after I left Saffron Star, anchoring on the exact same spot. Though this time, with winds blowing at 25 knots in the anchorage, which is a different story by itself. But the next day, we beached the dinghy, had a gorgeous sea food lunch on shore again.

And all hardship was forgotten in an instance....

Canaries to Barbados:

I flew from Lanzarote to Tenerife and joined Saffron Star (again) after a short break in Tenerife. We waited for 3 weeks in the marina, until we had a good weather window to sail to Cape Verde, and off we went.
Again with 4 people onboard (Chris and Amy, the owners, Nikki, a new crew member and myself). This time, we sailed 4 hours on and 12 hours off - what a luxury.
We had a nice passage with rather low winds up to Mindelo, on the island of Sao Vicente in Cape Verde. We cleaned the boat, took one day off to tour the island, one day of provisioning and off we went again.
We had a dream passage to Barbados with very steady winds and hardly any squalls. The only challenge I had, is that we had been delayed for 3 weeks in Tenerife. During the waiting period, I saw my planned 1 week off-time in Barbados disappear, and my planned 2 weeks Christmas holidays at home in Italy vaporized too. So we arrived in Barbados in the afternoon of December 22nd. I took one day off, and flew back to Rome on the 24th, to arrive back home in the late evening of Christmas day.
I had two days to do my laundry, get a hair-cut, catch up on some sleep, and spent four days of New Year's in Madrid with friends, after which, I flew to the Canaries to join Manami II, again.

Canaries to Grenada:

I arrived in Las Palmas on the evening of January 2nd, where Mats and Anne were waiting. We were joined by Alex, our new 4th crew the next day, and took 2 days to re-provision and prep the boat. We left for Cape Verde (again), on Jan 6th, as part of the Viking Explorers flotilla of 20 boats.
It felt like "déjà vu": I had left the Canaries for the Caribbean, a month ago, and here I was, sailing the same stretch again.
But we had gorgeous weather to Cape Verde. Steady winds, with 4 days and 4 nights without a single cloud in the sky. Talking about champaign sailing! And doing 4 hours on, 8 hours off watches, made it a nice and relaxed passage.
Despite the fact that it was an easy passage, I felt my body started to protest. I hurt my back, pinching a muscle, and my body started to feel real stiff. I did daily stretching exercises, which are not easy on a moving boat :-)
We arrived in Mindelo (again) after 6 days sailing and had about 5 days in the marina. We toured the island (again), and did a day tour to the neighouring island of Sao Antao. We reprovisioned, took fuel, prepped the boat and off we went to Grenada.

Just as, a month ago, the passage from Mindelo to the Caribbean had been relaxed champaign sailing, this passage was much rougher. We hit squalls as of 4 days out of Mindelo - which is rather exceptional. The prevailing winds were stronger, with an average of 25+ knots. The sea state was quite aggitated. Two transats within a month, and such a different weather and sea!

But, it was quite fun. We had a great time chatting with the other boats in the Viking Explorers' flotilla, via our Starlink satellite connection. And overall, it was a good passage...

During the passage, though, I felt like my body started to get weaker. At times, it felt like I was going to flip through my knees, as if no strength was left...

Grenada:

The moment I stepped off the boat in Grenada, early February, I could hardly walk. My left knee gave in, and my whole body was stiff. Luckily I had 10 days off in Grenada before flying back to Europe, so I went for a session with an osteopath/physiotherapist twice. Looking at my body and my movements, she said: "Hmmm, we have our work cut out for us".

And at the moment I write this, we're 4 weeks and 6 physiotherapist sessions later. What happened became clear: I had lost about 7 kgs of muscle weight, mostly on my legs. Pretty obvious why, as while sailing passages, you hardly use your legs: Most of the work is done by your upper body.
That is fine for one transat passage of 2-3 weeks, but by the time we arrived in Grenada, I had been sailing 10,000 Nmiles (or 18,000 km) in 5-6 months, with a constant strain on my body..
While passage sailing, you are constantly "holding on" to something: while moving around the boat, taking a shower or going to pee. Even while sleeping, your body is working, trying not to move around too much in your bunk.

The result on my legs, and how much of my leg muscles had disappeared, you can actually see in the picture on top of this post. You can also see that my left leg lost much more muscle than the right one, causing the left knee to do "overtime". Thus my issues with my knee.

Now, one month after after arriving in Grenada, I am still recovering slowly, with my knee taped up to give it extra support. And I am doing exercises to regain my legs' muscle mass.

Now I get it, how competition sailors doing non-stop around the globe races, can hardly walk on shore after arriving... Not what I had expected to see or feel after my 6 months of ocean passages, but something I can clearly understand now.

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