When David and Sarah Smith embarked on their first significant ocean voyage, they were unprepared for storm Oscar, yet they navigated through it without harm and enjoyed the adventure.
Despite squeezing in a brief trip to St Kilda, 2022’s weather in Scotland had been poor, leading my wife Sarah and me to consider a warmer getaway. I yearned for an authentic ocean journey, and a friend recommended the Azores; after some initial research, we resolved to pursue this endeavor.
I looked into the 2023 AZAB race, but it soon became apparent that our boat, Mollymawk, a 1984 Pan Oceanic 38, required a complicated certification process to participate. My confidence stemmed from Mollymawk’s three previous transatlantic voyages under former owners. Moreover, I wanted to make this journey on my own terms, inspired by Christian Williams’ book, Philosophy of Sailing.
Mollymawk is built for bluewater sailing and, although she has a cutter rig, her additional baby stay, which can be rigged behind the furling genoa, enhances her sail plan flexibility. While she is well-equipped for cruising, I expedited the replacement of the standing rigging by a year, nearing the 10-year or 10,000 miles mark, and made several important upgrades. I replaced the liferaft with an Ocean Safety Ocean ISO, had a new staysail constructed, added a fourth reef to the main, and acquired a Jordan Series Drogue from Oceanbrake.
Before setting out, we stocked a comprehensive range of medical supplies, rented an Iridium satphone with an external aerial, attached storm screens to the pilothouse, and reattached the engine chains.
Setting Off
Sarah and I were accompanied by our long-time friend Jim, eager to gain more sailing experience. By 2000 on Saturday, May 27, we had stowed most of our provisions, and I felt we were ready to depart. Although Sarah was worried about a forecasted 30-knot wind for Monday, we’ve faced worse conditions and were uncertain how long our favorable easterly winds would last.
Friends waved goodbye as we left our mooring in Salcombe and soon navigated past Bolt Head. A waypoint located just west of São Miguel showed 1,221 miles at 242°M, which steadily decreased as our GPS charted a great circle route. We set our Hydrovane and sailed into the twilight.
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Chichester Class winner Simon Curwen shares his experience in the 2022-23 Golden Globe Race.
Under reefed mainsail and engine power, we headed westward, hugging the rocky cliffs of the French south coast.
The next day, a hesitant wind began to intensify, and by 2300, we were surfing down waves illuminated by moonlight. By 0400, the sea turned choppy, prompting us to take down the main sail; by 0800, gusts reached 45 knots, raising concerns about the staysail, so we rigged the trysail to its mast track and lowered the staysail. Immediately, Mollymawk felt more stable and manageable, improving our overall comfort. The Hydrovane was performing well, though I secured the wheel to prevent cross-waves from acting against Mollymawk’s rudder friction lock.
I increasingly recognized that successfully recovering a man overboard (MOB) was unlikely, which is why we always clipped on regardless of conditions when leaving the safety of the pilothouse, and I installed high-level safety lines on Mollymawk for forward movement.
The winds gradually subsided, leaving a 3 to 4-meter sea, allowing us to unfurl more sails. First, we set the staysail, which we then goosewinged with a reefed genoa. Mollymawk prefers a conservative sail area, but with enough canvas to reach speeds of 5-6 knots, she sailed comfortably over the next few days.
Despite the challenging conditions on day two, I was astounded by our good fortune amid the steady easterlies and northeasterlies, varying between 10 to 20 knots. Our progress was steady, leading me to reduce sail at night if wind signs suggested a rise. There was no rush, making for enjoyable, stress-free sailing.
Taking It Easy
On day six, having reached the halfway point, we celebrated with bacon sandwiches for breakfast, but the wind soon started to wane, necessitating reliance on the dependable Beta 50 engine. As the sea calmed, we spotted whales, including a humpback.
With the sun shining and smoother seas, I utilized a sextant to verify our position; my findings aligned sufficiently with the GPS, confirming all was well.
Our Iridium satphone served as a wireless hub, with two different apps providing promised features. The Iridium Mail app enabled email and offered a limited weather service, but the Iridium Go app refused to allow any additional ‘high priority’ users reportedly logged in. The provider suggested a full factory reset as a potential fix, though we remained uncertain and continued with our current setup. While we improved our satphone usage for the return journey, it never provided consistent service.
On day eight, the sea was so calm it resembled oil, prompting a relaxing atmosphere with dolphins all around. This was more like it, even with our latest forecast indicating 30 knots with gust alerts in the coming days.
“That shouldn’t pose much concern,” I reassured, still unaware that the forecasts were specific to our location, rather than regional and definitely not reflective of tomorrow’s conditions. We witnessed a breathtaking sunset and, in the last moments, experienced the legendary green flash. It indeed exists!
Getting Serious
The wind shifted from the southeast, and by early morning, we were sailing once more.
However, that evening, the wind picked up beyond 25 knots. Anticipating gusts of 30 knots, we swapped our reefed main for the trysail since it was already rigged and simpler than adding a fourth reef. As I began my usual midnight watch, my log recorded:
“On course, no ships, rather wild ride. All fine except waves breaking across us.”
By 0500, the wind hit over 40 knots with rain. Following this, my log entries became sporadic, noting at 0914 that we had no sails up while still making 7 knots. It didn’t mention the loss of wind and control suffered by the Hydrovane in the troughs, so I took command, surfing massive waves and contemplating our next steps. Though Mollymawk handled rough conditions superbly, she needed to be steered manually. The Garmin autohelm struggles significantly in following seas, and with violent wave activity, I decided to forgo its use.
The toughest decision was to deploy the drogue, a task I had never attempted before. With Jim at the helm, I set up the bridle. Each side consisted of doubled 16mm 3-strand line, cow-hitched to the drogue, and, going against advice, I looped the spliced eye at each end separately over Mollymawk’s paired stern cleats to help distribute the load. Oceanbrake cautioned about the force involved and advised proper chain plates.
While I wasn’t concerned about Mollymawk’s structural integrity, I added a backup bridle for abrasion safety. I deployed the drogue by securing its 12kg weight outside the cockpit coaming with a thin cord, subsequently putting out the bridle, the leader, and the cones over the side. The drogue drifted on the surface in a gentle arc without biting harshly, allowing me to throw the weight as far as possible.
The effect was instantaneous; it felt as if a giant hand had clamped down, and amid the turbulent waves and roaring wind, we suddenly slowed to 2 knots, moving smoothly and under control.
The bridle lines were taut, and I focused on them carefully. I secured the Hydrovane and the wheel and went below; there was nothing left to do!
The Jordan Series Drogue is an incredible innovation, and ours, equipped with 132 cones, held back around 12 tonnes of yacht as we faced some daunting waves even as the wind speed climbed over 50 knots for prolonged stretches. By 2000, the wind had significantly lessened, and the bridle lines slackened in the troughs, prompting us to increase our forward speed for comfort. Thus, we began the arduous task of recovering the drogue using the mast winch and a messenger line for prusik loops tied to the drogue.
Eventually, we achieved it and started making headway under the trysail; however, the wind backed and intensified again, leading us to sail under bare poles until mid-morning. With conditions improving, we dared to try flying a small storm jib and then the main with four reefs as the wind subsided. However, the sea continued to feel choppy with waves seemingly coming from all angles. A log note at 1900 simply registered: “All quite battered.”
After midnight, the north-west wind and heavy seas hampered our course, and with land only 35 miles away, I began motoring under sail. The ride was quite a thrill, though the sky cleared to unveil a bright moon, and by 0800 we found ourselves off São Miguel’s western shore, greeted by a pod of Atlantic spotted dolphins. We adjusted course to follow the southern coastline and enjoyed a gentle downwind sail to Ponta Delgarda, where I reversed Mollymawk into a marina slip.
Safely tied up in Ponta Delgarda on São Miguel.
Entry formalities were conducted swiftly and cheerfully within a single building. After, we celebrated our safe arrival at the nearest bar.
We covered a total of 1,241 miles in 11.5 days. Despite storm Oscar, Mollymawk incurred no significant damage. The drogue bridle got tangled with the Hydrovane, leading it to twist and bend a pin, while some cones on the drogue suffered slight damage, possibly during recovery.
Jim had to fly home just after our arrival, and when the wind shifted to the west, we could not explore the other islands. As a welcoming weather window opened, Sarah and I sailed Mollymawk home. We benefited from Predict Wind’s weather routing software in making this choice, but it ceased functioning halfway through the return. With just the two of us aboard, the challenge felt different; however, it turned out to be a fairly uneventful journey, featuring quite a few whale sightings.
The crew retreated to the nearest bar for a well-deserved pint.
Lessons Learned
Jordan Series Drogue – The Jordan Series drogue is essential equipment for offshore sailing, but we needed to strategize its recovery better. It could have been executed more swiftly with a longer messenger line around a bow pulley. There were talks of using the engine in reverse or turning 180°, but I remain skeptical. We encountered issues with the drogue twisting, causing the bridle to become wound, potentially due to the chain used as a weight; I have since attached the chain using a swivel.
Satphone Fail – Our Iridium Satphone was a letdown. It proved inconsistent, and we should have rented it at least a week earlier to gain shore experience and discover its functions before setting out.
The Right Yacht – Even with improved weather forecasting, it’s likely we wouldn’t have avoided storm Oscar. Confidence in your yacht is essential. Mollymawk’s design—heavy, long-keeled, with a canoe stern, a well-protected cockpit, and ample deck space—offers that assurance.
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