Author: Seth
Picture: The Honeymooners and Crew! Henry, E, S & Steve
Google Earth Location at 12:07 departure: 36 55.700N 75 88.300W


Our first day could be summed up in the following way: We left late and started motoring directly into the path of a hurricane. It doesn't get any better than this!

Man, what a day. We awoke ready to go, but our batteries put a hold to that. One of our two 130 pound batteries decided to continue smoldering and spitting hydrogen - a problem that could easily have been worse had their been a spark in the boat! We could have ignited the entire marina with the fumes this thing was putting off. So at 09:00, the time of departure for the rest of the fleet, I found myself still in our rental car racing around Norfolk looking for an appropriate replacement battery. In the end we wouldn't leave the dock until 12:07 - a good three hours behind the entire fleet.

But oh yeah, there was this little storm too. What started as a benign cold front had developed into a full blown Hurricane. Yes, HURRICANE. One of those storms with a name - Paloma. And you guessed it - it was headed directly for Cuba and then the mid Atlantic - exactly where we planned to be in four days.

I mean, let's be honest. Crossing 1,500 miles of the Atlantic a good 4 or 5 days away from civilization isn't really hard enough. You kind of need a Hurricane to mix things up. Challenge the crew. Test the boat. Poo your pants. Question your faith.

So with that we set sail toward Bermuda, which was really a smart plan for two reasons. 1) Despite the storm down south, the current weather conditions up north would get us past the gulf stream and into warmer waters where we would experience an easier passage. And 2) we could always divert to Bermuda where the entire rally could hole up, head to the bar and order several days worth of dark-and-stormys until the Hurricane passed. If the storm took an unexpected turn or weakened we could bypass Bermuda and head south.

To say that we would be far from a Home Depot, Starbucks or gas station would be understatement. Although we didn't talk about it, the back of my mind was constantly worrying about the condition of the sailboat and the health of the crew. A bad storm, a broken rib and a punctured lung or torn mainsail could prove disastrous. Although we had the comfort of knowing that there were other boats out there to potentially help us, there is little they could do in a real emergency where a hospital and a new boat (one without holes) would be needed. But this is part of the lure, the challenge and the accomplishment you feel after making it across. Right?! At least this is what I kept telling myself...

So with these thoughts placed to the very back of my mind the night started exactly as I had imagined it to be. The moon set early leaving an unobstructed view of the milky way and a four second long shooting star to the West. After a decade of dreaming about this trip I was finally doing it. And after a year of planning, Elizabeth and I were finally crossing 1,500 miles of the Atlantic with a sea of stars overhead. We had set sail with a shaky understanding of where we were going and what weather we would encounter, but at least we had good batteries on board!