You know how sometimes waiting in anticipation for something is almost harder than the thing itself? Thats how we felt about crossing the Gulf Stream into the Bahamas. We have read so many stories of the importance of good weather crossings and how sailors wouldn’t make it or would have to turn back around.

Well Jake and I were sure we could handle less than ideal conditions. We weren’t going to be reckless and leave during a big storm or north winds (which is obvious for this type of thing) but we also weren’t going to sit around and wait for weeks on end for perfect conditions either. We just wanted to get it over with and to the good stuff on the other side!

Our intention was to leave at 2AM on Wednesday morning (December 30) but we were so antsy that we took off early (Dec 29) at 8PM. We anticipated a 10-12 hour timeframe to make it 46 miles.

When making a Gulf Stream crossing, most boaters follow these guidelines.

1. Don’t cross in north winds, because that will kick up huge waves (and often huge wind)
2. Don’t try to go south against the current unless you have a strong enough motor to power through.
3. Understand how the current works – its stronger in the middle than the outside and closer to the shores of Florida than the Bahamas
4. Plan your route so that you start south of your destination. As you motor through the stream, you will be pushed up north if you are a slow moving vessel (which we are). Anticipate this, don’t react to it. Once you clear the stream you should be able to go back south to your destination point.

We planned our route accordingly. Our forecast: South East winds at 10-15 knots. Waves 2-3 feet. Current was 2-2.5 knots (north) & 8 miles offshore. Our destination was due East.

Things went downhill pretty quickly.

We motored out of the inlet in the pitch black, which was pretty scary. The wind felt calm as did the water. Once we passed the land, however, the waves and wind both picked up. We were nervous…

The first issue came up right as we cleared the inlet, and we were barely making forward progress. The boat was being flung to the north much quicker than we anticipated (seeing as how we were barely 2 miles out there). The wind was also blowing more East than SouthEast (i.e. – dead ahead). And the waves were more like 4-6 feet. As we got further out there, the boat was going much more north than east and it was going fast.

I suppose we could have turned around and waited for another day, but I still felt confident that we could manage. I also figured it would be a really long night of no sleep, because the waves were beating us up and down (up and down) as was the wind. Thankfully the moon came out to light the horizon for most of the night.

We were getting more and more anxious the further north we went. Plus we were barely making 2 knots of forward (Easterly) progress. The wind and waves weren’t helping much nor the fact that it was dark. Thankfully, we had our auto helm working. Jake set it up before we left the inlet. The only issue we had is the lever that locks it in place wouldn’t stay down, so we had to keep a foot on it at all times. Much easier than hand steering! It seemed to be able to hold the compass course, which we had set in a south-easterly direction. This is probably why we were making such little ground, because the gulf stream was pushing us north more than we could compensate for south, and the wind and waves from the east slowed us down even more.

The night went by very slowly. Minutes felt like hours. At first the lurching back and forth wasn’t a big deal. We’ve dealt with that before. But after a few hours…and then a few more hours…it seemed to only get worse. Jake manned the helm the first half of the night, which basically just consisted of sitting there, holding the foot lever in place and holding on to the railing. I was scared to take over at first (Because it just felt scary to watch the waves and the boat fly up and down over and over). But I actually found sitting at the helm was more comfortable.

The later it got (or earlier) the more we both wished that we could turn around. But we had gone too far – we were almost halfway across the horizontal distance of the stream, but we shot so far north and were barely straightening out. Jake started to get really sick around 2AM, making frequent trips to the lee side of the boat to hurl. I definitely did NOT feel good – but I didn’t get sick. We were both so tired though after 8 hours of relentless beating into the wind, making very little progress.

I was hopeful that it would be better on the other side of the stream. Though its hard to say exactly where that happens. The winds were showing 25-30 knots which was more than we were getting on the Florida side. The waves were also feeling a lot bigger than before. Neither of us could stand sitting below for more than a few minutes because it was rocking and rolling so badly. Things were flying all over the place down below, even things we stowed really well. And, Bosco was covered in sea spray with waves crashing on deck. And still we were barely making forward ground. It felt like a full on epic battle of mother nature vs. Bosco and we were losing.

At some point, around pre-dawn, we decided to hove-to (which is when you stop the sailboat using a technique of trimming sails a certain way). We did not have any sail out at this point, so Jake had to muster up the strength to pull out the jib sail so that I could tack us into the wind. It took all of a few minutes and when we slowed the boat down to a halt, it was as if someone had a radio on full volume and turned it all the way down. It was SO NICE. Both of us were so tired and felt like crap that we considered taking a reprieve below deck for an hour. In the end we only stopped for a few minutes to reassess our plan.

By now we were 3/4 of the way across the stream, but still about 18 miles from our destination (remember how it was only supposed to be a 46 mile jaunt?). We were a little nervous to head south in the dark, because of the manner that the waves would crash into the boat (from the side) and we weren’t sure if we were clear of the Gulf stream yet. We were definitely outside the stronger parts of it based on our course and I was determined to keep going. We decided to keep the jib out, which really did help keep the boat balanced. We were also making much faster progress south (almost 3 knots!!!).

As the sun rose over the horizon, I felt a renewed sense of hope. The wind and waves chilled out a bit and I could see! That made a huge difference for me. I also decided to turn off auto helm and hand steer up and down the waves. It made it a more comfortable ride and we were gaining ground faster than holding a straight compass course.

Once the sun was up, the waves definitely picked up even more than before (6-8 feet). Jake was at his end and couldn’t handle much of anything other than laying down in the cockpit. I was numb to the whole thing. I did however notice how beautiful the water was – almost a deep violet-blue color (something I have never seen in the ocean). It was more muted due to the cresting waves but still gorgeous. As the miles winded down, I had a nice rhythm with the boat. I found a synchronicity between waves sets and wind, powering through the smaller waves and then turning the boat short of the bigger ones so that we didn’t lose any forward momentum.

The closer we got to land, the more the waves really chilled out. The last 2 miles was almost flat and the water was glowing a deep blue color. I could see in the distance where the water transformed from the deep blue to the classic aqua-turqoise of the Bahamas. I was so happy that we were this close. Even Jake perked up as we neared the shore.

We planned to drop anchor just outside the channel entrance, and then try to rest and reboot before checking in with customs. It was around 12:30PM when we dropped the hook, in the most crystal clear blue water I have ever seen! Unfortunately, it was not a comfortable anchorage. There was sea swell coming around the shore and rocking the boat so uncomfortably (Even though we had been rocking for 20 hours) that we decided to bail.

I found a marina on active captain that was only $1/foot and would help with checking into customs. Jake was reluctant at first because he was so sick and tired but gave in. Though it did take some effort to prep the boat (setup all the dock lines and fenders) docking was pretty simple. And once we turned off the engine – we were ELATED.

We are both really glad we chose to come in to the marina after such a hard trip. We ended up traveling about 60 miles in total. I am really proud of us for persevering through a pretty rough passage. Bosco is one hell of a tough boat for putting up with such difficult conditions for so long and with barely a scrape on her (we did find a few loose things inside the boat but easy stuff to tighten down).

We heard that all of the other boats that crossed this week (both before and after us) had similar tough experiences. Its nice to know we weren’t alone out there!

P.S. We will have a video for this post as soon as there is decent wifi to upload. Stay tuned…