Caribbean Ahoy – How Covid Led Me to Sail across the Atlantic!

Stepping onto the solid ground of Durban Marina after nearly three months bobbing across the Indian Ocean, the relief was overwhelming. I’d survived storms and seasickness and eaten enough fish to last a lifetime. I skipped away from Leia B for a final time, delighted I’d sailed across an Ocean, delighted I never had to do it again. I’d have promised you, you’d never see me on a boat.

*Two years and a pandemic later*

The sun sunk beneath the watery horizon making the gusty wind feel a few degrees colder. Sitting on the beach alongside two schoolfriends, Ben and Jamie, I gulped from a portion of chips, letting them warm me from the inside-out. Nearby, several sailboats were moored to buoys, their halyard ropes tapping noisily against the mast.

‘So what are your plans now?’ Ben asked. ‘Or more specifically, between September and April?’
‘I’m not sure. Why?’ I recognised his mischievous look.
‘Wanna sail across the Atlantic?’ he asked.

Ben has gone on a sailing holiday every summer for a couple of weeks or even a month. But, for as long as I can remember, he has spoken about ‘The Big Trip’. Plans had always seemed vague and unlikely, but at last it seemed like the time for his grand adventure was approaching. The covid lockdown had given Ben a chance to get his Ocean Yachtmaster qualification. Perhaps more importantly, it had allowed him to reassess his priorities. If he wouldn’t sail now, then when?

To Sail or Not To Sail (Let’s be honest, that was never really the question!)

Like Ben (and probably everyone else!), the covid pandemic also provided me an opportunity to reassess my lifestyle. Through challenging times, I feasted on the rich memories of adventures past and dreamed of those I would have in future. Lockdown revealed a gaping adventure-shaped hole in my life. With crystal clarity, I knew I would travel again as soon as I could. At the same time, however, covid also exposed a vulnerability; six years of solo travel had left countless friendships dotted around the world in my frenetic wake, yet I felt lonely and found myself lacking the close support of a community.

It’s against this backdrop - my passion for adventure renewed, my thirst for solo travel stymied – that Ben invited me to sail.

I can recognise an unmissable opportunity when I see it. Sailing across the Atlantic conjured visions of desolate islands, funky sea-life and Caribbean cultures that puzzled my understanding of the world. I dreamed of unpredictable days, the exact opposite of lockdown where every day resembled the one before. I looked forward to meeting, again, the quiet soul of the universe - something I’ve only experienced when alone on a nightshift with the nearest land a thousand miles away. Most of all, I was thrilled to do this with friends. I can’t wait for the tight camaraderie that inevitably arises from an experience as intense as sailing across an Ocean with your mates.

I’m under no illusions it will all be fun. It won’t be a holiday. Scary storms, seasickness, tense fractures between crew, and hours of inescapable boredom are all guaranteed. I am afraid. In fact, more afraid than I was after committing to sail the Indian Ocean; I’m now aware how powerful nature is, and just how alone you are out there. But we’ll rise above these challenges, and they’ll become the moments we learn from and the stories we’ll tell. Beyond each obstacle awaits, I hope, a worthwhile reward.

Having committed to the sail, a familiar sense of anticipation returned at once. In between adventures my life’s purpose can sometimes feel murky and adrift, but, whenever a new trip looms, my focus is sharpened. Life simplifies and I become part of something bigger.

Sailing - The Plan

One thing I’ve learned from adventures is that plans change. Below is simply the latest revision!

Leg One – Unknown Waters

On September 6^th 2021, we’ll push away from Weymouth Harbour, across the English Channel and headed for the French port-city of Brest. This moment is always a heady cocktail of emotions. I’ll no longer be talking about sailing across the Atlantic, I’ll be doing it. Arguably, the hardest obstacle – bringing a wild dream to life – is conquered!

From Brest begins the first serious challenge. The Bay of Biscay evokes fear amongst sailors. Here, the Atlantic Ocean hits the European Continental Shelf and the water depth shifts from four kilometres to two hundred metres deep. The result is a tumultuous and unpredictable sea. We’ll await a favourable weather forecast and hope to sneak across on our six-day passage during a quiet lull. Counter-intuitively, if any storms arrive, we’ll head away from land and further from safety, but towards deeper water.

Our reward for surviving the Biscay crossing will be a southwards scenic cruise, hugging the Portuguese Coastline, docking in Porto, Lisbon, and wherever else takes our fancy!

We’ll reach Tenerife around October 10^th. The boat will be lifted onto land and the crew will fly home, awaiting our weather window across the Atlantic in early January.

Leg Two – The Crossing

We’ll celebrate New Years Eve 2022 in Tenerife, wondering what adventures (and misadventures!) might await. We’ll then set a bearing west and, for 18-21 days, ride the conveyor belt of trade winds towards the Caribbean.

We’ll complete this section with the ARC Rally, meaning we’ll join a flotilla of other boats, ensuring it will be safer and more social. The tropical paradise of Saint Lucia, where we make landfall, is bound to be a pleasing sight, especially as the ARC Rally promises a rum-fuelled welcome party!

Leg Three – Caribbean Cruising

This is where the freedom of having a boat comes into its own! Plans are fluid, and we can go wherever the wind and our fancy takes us! I love travelling around islands because their isolated geography allows unique cultures and lifestyles to develop. There are 13 Caribbean countries. I’ve no idea how many we’ll visit, but I look forward to exploring as many as possible!

Leg Four – Homeward Bound

The Caribbean’s Hurricane Season runs from 1^st June – 30 November, meaning we must leave by May at the latest.

This Ocean Crossing is a more challenging prospect. Firstly, we’ll be sailing without the safety net of the ARC Rally. Secondly, we’ll be sailing into the weather, without the comfortable and predictable trade winds.