On April 25, we departed from Nanny Cay, Tortola, bound back to the Chesapeake Bay. There’s an upcoming blog post about this (drastically different) decision to sail back instead of staying in the Caribbean for the hurricane season, but for now let’s just concentrate on the passage north.

Passage by the “numbers”

• Mileage: 1796 nautical miles

• Days: 25

• Start point: Nanny Cay Marina, Tortola, British Virgin Islands

• End point: Oak Harbor Marina, Rock Creek, Maryland

• Nights at anchor: 9 (2 Mayaguana, 1 Plana Cays, 2 Atwood Harbor, 3 Conception, 1 Cat Island)

• Nights at dock: 3 (2 in Beaufort, 1 in Elizabeth City)

• Nights underway: 13

• Days with dolphins: 3 (all Bahamas and north)

• Fish caught: 3 (2 barracuda, 1 cero mackerel)

• Fishing traps caught: 1

• Fish kept: 0 

• Fastest boat speed: 10.2 knots (in the Gulf Stream)

• Average moving speed: 5.1 knots

• Motoring: more hours than we wanted

• Sail changes: more than we can count

There was a bit of symmetry between this passage and the last, at least in some ways. When southbound, we left the US from Beaufort after a fast trip down the Bay and through the ICW, landing in the British Virgin Islands and immediately going to the dock at Nanny Cay for showers. This time? We left from Nanny Cay marina (after laundry, rig check, and a last grab of available fresh veg), cleared into the US in Beaufort, and made it back to Oak Harbor after a few days in the ICW and a fast trip up the Bay.

There were days of very light air sailing in flat water. Days of droning progress via the engine. A zippy last day that began with double reefed main and staysail. Weather forced us to shelter in the Bahamas, giving us a hint at what next winter has in store.

Worst part of the journey was easily one evening around sunset. We were offshore just north of Abaco. Jeremy was on the radio with Chris Parker, checking in on the weather and squall forecast for the night. The wind was almost non-existent, forward progress happening only due to the engine. All of a sudden, the engine stopped. Just stopped. (This is not good, by the way.) A massive ball of fishing gear, about a quarter the size of our boat, hung off the transom, complete with a full on ecosystem of small fish, larger fish, large jacks, and 3 or 4 sharks.

Jeremy immediately hopped into the water to cut the ball away from the prop. Time was of the essence as the sun was going down. The water clarity was both a blessing and a curse, as he could keep a wary eye on the sharks and see what he was doing - but being aware of those sharks, even though they were “only” about 5 feet long with lots of easier picking, didn’t do much to calm the nerves.

It didn’t take long to cut the mess away, and luckily the engine was fine. Hopefully no other boat encounters it on their way through these waters. We’d have loved to bring it on board to properly dispose of it, but the size made that impossible.

There are lots of stories, of course. But other than that fish trap entanglement, this passage was a boring one. We had sailing days, motoring days, even anchoring days. Does it count as a passage if we anchored? It does to us in this case!

Now for a college graduation!