S2.25 - Chasing the Trades: A Mid-Ocean Pivot to Cape Verde
⚓ November 22 — Casting Off from La Palma
Departure time: 11:50 a.m.
We had barely cleared the massive steel gate of Santa Cruz de La Palma when a cruise ship loomed much closer than we liked—and at the exact same moment, Ryan stepped on a shard of glass that had to be dug out of his toe. Not exactly the send-off we envisioned.
Thankfully, things began to look up when Byron popped a bottle of champagne and we raised our glasses to Poseidon.
In ancient Greece, sailors would pour libations to the god of the sea to ask for calm waters and safe passage. It felt fitting to carry on that tradition as we set out on our first Atlantic crossing. Cheers, Poseidon—and to this great adventure ahead.
Byron, Roa, Ryan and Faye
Before officially pointing our bow west, we stopped for one last Canary Island swim and a quick hull cleaning (nothing grows slime quite like a marina stay). Our B&G chartplotter showed 2,863 nm to our next destination—St. Lucia—which felt both thrilling and surreal.
As you can see, however, the screen also showed our Speed Over Ground (SOG) at 5.0kn… while our boat speed read 0.0kn.
This always happens after sitting in marinas for a stretch as the speed sensor gets coated in growth and stops reading.
So while the three of us scrubbed the slime from the hull, Ryan contorted himself into the bilge locker, armed with buckets, rags, and quick reflexes to unblock the sensor (which sits below the waterline and must be cleaned lightning-fast before the ocean rushes in), then joined us for his final dip.
I finally jumped in from the bow—a feat I’d been putting off due to my fear of heights—and it felt like the perfect way to shake off marina mode and begin this great adventure!
Farewell La Palma!
By evening, Ryan and I watched the sun set while playing cribbage during my shift. That first night brought the magic of glowing plankton swirling in our wake. I tried to catch it on video, but it’s one of those fleeting wonders best kept as a memory. (That’s code for the video didn’t turn out.)
November 23 — Day 2: Coffee at the Helm
The morning began like a dream: Code D flying, engines off, Lucky Enough gently rocking as I sipped coffee with my lover at the helm.
Just before sunrise
By 9:20 a.m. it was pure bliss… until the wind gave up on us.
We spent the day coaxing what little breeze there was, altering course by a few degrees, but mostly ended up motoring—something none of us are thrilled about on a passage. Ryan, ever the fuel strategist, floated the idea of diverting to Cape Verde for a top-up, like the ARC+ fleet had done. It would mean a 20 nm detour. He had already pinpointed the decision waypoint, so we would see how the rest of the day and night played out and go from there.
I kept everyone fed with leftover pork roast—twice. The fried rice was a hit. During my night shift (about 35 hours in), I watched the Tropic of Cancer inch closer on our chart.
I wonder how long it will take us to cross it?
It’s a BIG ocean… and distances on maps can be deceiving. Stay tuned…
By midnight, the slamming swell had arrived, making our forward cabin unbearable. Time to attempt sleep in the salon.
November 24 — Day 3: Headwinds & Hard Choices
After a restless night, the day began with stubborn headwinds and a lumpy swell. Ryan adjusted our heading to 15° off the wind to soften the ride.
…but as you can see, we are only going 2.4kn SOG
By 9:20 a.m. Ryan made the call to pivot: Cape Verdes it is. We’d burned more fuel than planned fighting the wind and seas, and this diversion would only add roughly eight hours to our route if we did a quick turn.
“Cape Verde or Cabo Verde, officially the Republic of Cabo Verde, is an island country and archipelagic state of West Africa in the central Atlantic Ocean.” Wikipedia
Meanwhile, the ARC fleet (including Al & Judi on Full Circle III) had left this morning;
I spotted them on the ARC App and marked their position on the map.
Even with our alternate plan to divert, we should still be able to get back on track ahead of the pack. Time will tell.
Between rough conditions and fatigue, Ryan and I finally surrendered to sleep between our 0600–1200/1800-2400 shifts.
By my night watch, we had 575 nm to go until the Verdes.
November 25 — Day 4: Morale Boosters & Dolphins
We all slept like the dead. And when we woke, the world had shifted—following seas, sunshine, and dolphins.
We nearly caught a dorado (mahi mahi)… nearly.
Spirits were dipping, so we stopped the boat for a 4,000 m deep-ocean swim. If you think your mind doesn’t wander to “what’s watching me as food,” you’re kidding yourself—but it was exhilarating.
Then came the dolphins. Atlantic spotted dolphins appeared five times throughout the dayleaping and playing at our bow.
That night, Byron and Roa each took an extra hour on watch so Ryan and I could have a little date night. We started Garth Brooks’ Friends in Low Places mini-series I’d downloaded back in La Palma.
And just as the Code D went up at 10 p.m., we crossed the Tropic of Cancer—80 hours into our passage.
November 26 — Day 5: Riding the Crests
Even with the Code D, our speeds hovered around 3.5 knots. Ryan took the 5 a.m. shift, letting me sleep in.
Sunrise in the North Atlantic
Every so often, a 3 m swell would lift our stern and send us surfing down its face. For a split second on the crest, it felt like we were on top of the world.
We caught and released one small dorado, then kept the second (for future fish tacos).
Ryan and Byron patched a tiny hole in the Code D,
and the dolphins returned—this time staying for hours, leaping until sunset.
Byron even caught one mid-air on camera.
And then, some joyful news from home: we’re going to be a Great Aunt and Uncle. Congratulations Mike and Amy! 💛
November 27 — Day 6: Settling into the Rhythm
Our bodies are finally syncing with the rhythm of life at sea. We slept deeply, somehow tuning out the constant creaks and motion.
Another Beautiful Sunrise
Apparently, a flying fish almost made it into the salon overnight, and a hummingbird moth fluttered around during our morning shift.
I also grabbed a screenshot showing where Al and Judi were compared to us. We look closer together on the map than we actually are, but it was still comforting—and a little surreal—to see both our boats on the same screen in the vast expanse of the Atlantic.
Other than that, it was a quiet day… except for me discovering I’d let our chicken go bad. Dinner plans: ruined. Spirits: still intact.
🦃 November 28 — Day 7: Thanksgiving at Sea
Happy Thanksgiving from the Lucky Enough Crew!
We celebrated with fresh mahi mahi tacos (a turkey wouldn’t have fit in the freezer anyway) and clean laundry for everyone—underwear and sheets included. It’s moments like these I’m so thankful for having a washer/dryer aboard; many salty sailors aren’t so lucky.
We’ve travelled 720 nm (152 hrs) and are still showing 181 nm from the Verdes, while Full Circle III is behind us taking a different angle.
With any luck, we’ll catch the same trade-wind path they do after our fuel stop and still be ahead of them by a couple of days.
Finally Sailing along with the Code D
November 29 — Day 8: Land Ho — Cabo Verde!
At dawn, I spotted Santo Antão on the horizon.
After 818.5 nm and 6 days, 22 hours, and 54 minutes at sea, we pulled into Marina Mindelo on the island of São Vicente, Cabo Verde.
If you look down at our plot charter, you can see the warning to look out for abandoned vessels within the harbor in various states of despair. Not Comforting 🙈. Still, we were thrilled to see land again and had a solid plan: a quick refuel and “turn and burn” toward St. Lucia.
Except… the fuel dock had run out of diesel! No one could say exactly when more would arrive, and dozens of boats were already loitering in wait. Our next concern quickly became: where would we land in the conga line once the diesel did finally appear—and would there be any left by the time our turn came up?
So, Plan B (if you know Ryan and I… we are always ready to execute Plans B trough J):
We would start by emptying the diesel from our 14 jerry cans into Lucky Enough’s tanks…
….then haul the 20 L cans back and forth from the local gas station by hand until the boat was full.
After that, we’d need to refill the jerries and refasten them to our stern. If we hustled, we could still be sailing again by mid-afternoon.
However… cue Plan C: After hours of schlepping 660L of diesel (and yes, every seaside town somehow manages to be uphill from sea level), we finally had Lucky Enough’s tanks brimming and our jerries topped up, feeling quite proud of our efficiency (thank you very much), when our neighboring skipper (also on a Privilège 5-series) wandered over. He’d been watching our operation and asked if he could borrow our jerry cans to do the same.
Yes, you heard that right. He was planning to cross the Atlantic with zero spare fuel. (Who does that?!)
And of course, there was no way Ryan would ever say no to a fellow sailor in need. So, we waited. And waited. I took advantage of that time to run into town to see if I could grab any fresh fruit and veg, which also proved to be a challenge in itself.
Here.. All products are displayed behind this locked wall. You have to hand them your grocery list (which they can’t read because they are not fluent in English) and they fill a box for you with what they have in stock.
Walking the streets trying to find fresh veg.
By the time our neighbor completed his impromptu fueling relay and returned our now-refilled jerries, the sun was sinking fast—and so were our energy levels. We were utterly wiped.
Cue Plan D: Spend the night and get an early start in the morning.
Except… the marina had just finished erecting a full concert stage directly in front of our boat—music scheduled from 7 p.m. to 5 a.m. 🙈
Concert Venue
So instead, we slipped off the dock and anchored amongst the very crowded outer anchorage (you know, the area where you have to keep watch for drifting derelicts).
You can see the one shipwreck (totally upside down) just behind where we anchored.
The bass thumped faintly in the distance as we ate leftovers under the stars. Exhausted, but happy to be fueled and finally ready for the next leg. Good Night Mindelo.
