Kill Kenny - Kilkenny GA
18 November 2011 | Kilkenny GA to Atlantic Ocean
KG
Plenty of Kill Kenny jokes to go around but Kenny made it out alive.
It was a rocky, bumpy ride from Kilkenny GA to Cape Canaveral Fl. We departed Kilkenny Marina at about 8:15AM and entered the Atlantic Ocean at about 11AM. The winds were favorable at 11AM from the NE at 15-20 gusting to 30 so we proceeded to set the jib sail. It is clear and sunny with a temp of 58 degrees F. It is remarkable that it is only 25-60 feet deep 10 miles offshore. Seas are bumpy from 5 to 9 feet.
At mid afternoon we are making great time at an average sailing speed of over 7 to 8 knots. We are ahead of schedule.
At 5:45pm we prepare ourselves for night sailing and establish our Watch Schedule of 4 hours on, 2 hours off. We also assure that we are wearing our life jackets with safety equipment attached. Nobody is allowed into the cockpit without a tether line attached and nobody is allowed on deck without attaching to a jackline. Again, we feel excited, anxious and cautious to experience another round of night sailing. But this time, seas are very lumpy.
It is very dark out here as there is no moon to light the ocean or objects on the ocean. We rely upon our chart plotter and radar which illuminates markers and obstacles on the horizon. In a sense, we are sailing blind without technology. We wonder how earlier mariners succeeded night passaging without this technology, especially transiting channels and inlets.
I forgot to mention, there is another person onboard with us. His name is Charlie. Charlie is the name we have assigned to the electronic auto helm which steers our boat. Charlie is very quiet, mostly reliable and never talks back. Doug really likes Charlie.
If you haven't night sailed on the ocean, you are missing an invaluable, exciting and at times creepy experience. I overheard Doug mention creepy to his wife and that is a good description. As we gaze out the cockpit window into total darkness, we feel the boat rise and fall with the waves. Frequently, we feel the boat sink into a trough and see a 9 foot wave arise above the cockpit and block out the horizon. "Creepy". We realize how small we are and sometimes wonder why we are doing this. But the boat and crew are handling the waves very well as we proceed.
As we sail through the night, lights will appear out of the darkness and become closer and closer. It is very difficult to determine what they are and if they are moving. The worst of these lights are the shrimp boats. The lights are extremely bright and we can not determine their course or direction without radar. They usually appear to be heading directly toward us. On a couple occasions, we fired up the engine to motor sail to take us clear of their course. As we become more experienced, we will feel less anxious about these "lights on the horizon" and become more confident with our skills. But until then, we error on the side of caution.
At 11PM the winds are ESE at 15 to 20 MPH and the seas are 5 to 8'. The sky is clear with stars, beautiful. We sharpen our navigation skills by maintaining a frequent log of our course and conditions.
As we pass Jacksonville FL, we again experience the camaraderie and trust of night passaging with friends.