Wow, this turned out long.

We left Toronto on August 30, made our way to Oswego, New York where our mast was removed and placed on deck (bridges and such allow no masts on the canals). We went south thru the Oswego River/Canal until we hit the Erie Canal. We took the Erie Canal East over a period of around two weeks until we hit the Hudson. After Lock #1 at Troy, New York we were on the Hudson, and experienced tide for the first time this would really come into play over the next weeks. Traveling south on the Hudson we stopped in at Catskill, NY where the mast was put back up. It felt good to be a sailboat again after several weeks of being a motor vessel.

Next major landmark was of course The Big Apple. Amazing to ghost down the river and pass by so many landmarks that we are all so familiar with. We stopped in at Sandy Hook New Jersey for a few days where we anchored in massive winds. This was so exhausting we took a dock for a couple of nights in Atlantic Heights Hew Jersey. The marina there is a fantastic, brand new facility, the old one having been basically erased from the earth by Sandy a few years earlier.

After Sandy Hook you make your way down the coast of New Jersey. I had no idea that the New Jersey coast was basically 120 miles of beach. Quite impressive going past the resort towns and looking at their piers and promenades through the binocs. In New Jersey we overnighted at Barnegat Bay, Atlantic City and Cape May. In Atlantic City we went to a casino for dinner. Turns out there is little chance of me becoming a problem gambler. The place held no appeal for me at all.

From Cape May we got into the Delaware Bay headed vaguely North. Delaware Bay has very strong tidal currents and it was important to time the travel well so that you could actually make headway. Sailboats only travel 6 miles an hour, so if you're in a 4 Mi opposing current it takes a long time to get anywhere, if at all. At the top of the Delaware Bay is the C and D (Chesapeake and Delaware) Canal. This very old canal leads us to the Chesapeake Bay, when we started to feel like we were really getting someplace. The first major stop on the trip is Annapolis, site of the United States Sailboat Show. This is where sailors from all over North America gather to spend money on stuff they don't need.

We spent nearly three weeks at anchor in Annapolis. Such a nice town. However we couldn't stay there indefinitely, it was starting to get chilly in mid October and we had places to go. We spent a long weekend in lovely St. Michaels, then Solomons, then Deltaville. The Chesapeake is a very impressive body of water - this coming from someone who lives on Lake Ontario, a very impressive inland sea. Our final push in the Chesapeake was to Hampton, VA, where we would spend 8 days in the marina with a group called the Salty Dawgs, who stage a rally to the Caribbean each fall. In all 88(?) boats of varying size and description would make the rally crossing from Hampton to one of Bahamas, BVI, or Antigua. Our destination was the third of the three.

In Hampton we enjoyed a week of seminars and social gatherings to prepare us for the crossing. We met a lot of nice people as we nervously waited for the weather to make our departure. We left - me and and my crew of two old sailing buddies from Toronto - a couple of days after the intended departure date of November 3. The idea is to sneak the passage in between hurricane season and winter storm season. With a bit of luck, you depart after a cold front, and the Northwest wind that results pushes you quickly south and east. This did not happen; more below.

Every sailor speaks of the Gulfstream with at the very least with respect if not outright fear. We got to the Gulfstream proper about a day after departure, after making our way about 120 miles south and a bit east along the coast to get a good angle at a narrow part of the huge current. In short, the Gulfstream deserves the respect or fear. It took us a day to get through it, and the boat and crew took a heck of a beating. We didn't get the expected Northwest wind to take us briskly across the 'stream, instead the wind and waves were in opposition, which build the seas in the Gulfstream in a fearsome way. There was no-one in the rally who reported anything but a rough, rough crossing. Our boat is kind of a racy hull, and as such lacks the wight to punch through huge waves and was tossed about badly. Water crashed over the boat repeatedly as we smashed our way along, and it turns out everything that could leak on the boat eventually did. We ended up with saltwater everywhere and a lot of stuff was ruined, food, clothing, cushions, etc.

Now the forgoing may sound like complaining, but it's actually bragging, 'cuz despite the discomfort, the experience was awesome. The sea gave us a bashing and we stood up to it and learned about ourselves, my boat, and life at sea. The days that followed included catching a few beautiful Mahi Mahi, being escorted by huge pods of dolphins, dodging and not dodging scary squalls, nearly hitting a huge utility pole 300 miles from the nearest anything, a night sky that cannot fail to invoke awe, and seas a colour of blue that simply does not exist anywhere else.

If you know sailing, you know that sailboats cannot sail directly into the wind. Instead, we sail at an angle to the wind and by a miracle of physics we can make forward motion. For our trip the problem was that the wind persistently came from the direction we needed to go. After about 4 days of getting beat up, we realized we couldn't make Antigua by sailing in the wrong direction nor with the fuel we had, so we ditched to Bermuda for a rest and more diesel.

Bermuda is wonderful, though the most expensive place I have ever been. We got to St Georges Harbour very late on the 10th of November, 5-1/2 days after we left. It is a small island ringed with terrifying reefs that have claimed countless ships. It is so dangerous that Bermuda Maritime Radio talks each visiting vessel into the harbour. The entry to the harbour is also difficult if not treacherous, especially for newcomers, and especially when it is raining cats and dogs and visibility is reduced to not far beyond our own bow. As a number of boats from our rally and another concurrent rally ditched to Bermuda at the same time, we turned in circles in the harbour for a couple of hours to wait our turn at the Customs Dock. I had never been more relieved to tie up to a pier in my life. Checking in to Bermuda was easy, the staff was very cordial despite working late into the night because of this unexpected influx of boats. The funny thing was we were experiencing land legs for the first time. After days of rocking in the boat your inner ear becomes acclimated to the motion, but once you step ashore your ear makes the motion persist. The Customs staff laughed at us a bit as we filled out forms while holding tightly to the countertop to offset the swaying of our legs.

We ended up enjoying Bermuda for 8 days while we waited for weather and for a change of crew. My good pal Rob had taken three weeks off work for this voyage, and it became clear that there was no way he was gonna get back to work in time with the delays so I recruited another Toronto sailing pal to join us in Bermuda. The people in Bermuda were invariably kind and generous. The place is lovely, but as I mentioned it is expensive. Bermuda has to import almost everything and if you look it up on a map it's really off the beaten path. That said it has the highest GDP per capita in the world, and no income tax, so people seem to be able to afford $5 coffees and $10 sandwiches. I can't, and as much as I really enjoyed the place, we eventually had to shove off. This happened the morning of November 18th.

We were once again bound for Antigua, but like the first leg of the trip, the winds did not cooperate. We either had winds "straight on the nose" as we say in sailing, or no wind at all and had to fire up the diesel. Like the first trip it became clear that it would be very difficult to reach Antigua in time to get another crew member totally exhausted every vacation day he had saved up, so we altered course for St. Martin, which is 100 miles closer and a little easier to get to as the winds wanted us to go a bit more west anyhow.

This second leg was marked by a few noteworthy things. We caught a Mahi Mahi so large we named him Thor, and had Mahi for supper for days. We had visits by more pods of dolphins, this time with little baby dolphins somehow able to keep up with their parents and the boat, we experienced a blinding full moon at sea along with large bright moons for days on either side of the full one. We experienced phenomenon known to all sailors where if there are two boats within 10 miles of each other they will pass right beside each other. We saw three vessels on the second leg, and ship and two sailboats. The sailboats each passed within 300 yards of us - in the middle of the ocean.

The highlight of the trip - oh heck, the highlight of my year - was the pilot whale that breeched directly in from of the boat, so close that I couldn't see all of the whale, it was obscured by the bow of the boat. I had never seen a whale in the wild before, and to see one within 15 feet of the boat was awful exciting, as evidenced by my shrieking and waking of the other crew. They briefly didn't believe me until we spotted the rest of the pod blowing and breeching off our starboard stern.

Though we decided to make for the closer destination of St. Martin, we ran the boat out of fuel, and only had one 5 gallon can of diesel to make the last 120 miles or so. Of course there was no wind, so there was nothing to do but wait. We couldn't risk burning what diesel remained when we couldn't be sure when the winds would fill in again. We bobbed for a few hours while I worried about how we were never going to get my pal Dave on a plane in time for him to get off work. He had been communicating with his employer and had negotiated some extra time, but this was really stretching it. Finally, after a few hours of bobbing, the easterly trade winds we had been hoping for days showed up, and as though apologizing for being late, were very strong. We ran like a rocket the last 100 miles or so to the eastern tip of Anguilla, where exhausted, we decided to douse the sails and motor the last bit to Marigot Bay.

We anchored in Marigot Bay very early on the morning of November 27, 8-1/2 days after setting out from Bermuda. We'd had a heck on an adventure, and were very happy to have reach St. Martin. There was a little regret that we couldn't make Antigua, but in the morning when the sun rose we went for a swim off the boat in Marigot Bay and everything seemed pretty great.

So would I do it again? In a heartbeat, though I'd choose a heavier boat more suited to the conditions.

It's now nearly Christmas, my wife and I are learning to live on a boat in Paradise. This sounds silly I am sure but there really is a learning curve. It's easy to take though when you wake up anchored in places like Anse Marcel.

Thanks for reading.