RTW Leg 26: The South Atlantic

An epic voyage of over 5000 nautical miles accross The South Atlantic ocean visiting St Helena, Ascension Island, Frenando de Noronah and French Guyana.

And relax. The end of our journey in Trinidad and Tobago

We left the wonderful town of Cape Town with heavy hearts and even heavier bodies! Two months in South Africa and Namibia had been a blast and a well-deserved rest with lots of adventures.

From left to right, Devils Point, Table Mountain and Lions Head.

As we set out on the 8th February we were both in good spirits.  This leg of the world was to be one of the easier ones.  A breeze, if you pardon the pun.  Well, that’s what everyone had told us. With a weather window opening a small fleet headed out the same day; Pangaea our ever present companions, Endless Summer with Tim and his octogenarian Dad, Caritas with Kimmy and Richard and soloist Peter on Breathless. As is the way, that small group fanned out, going their own way and within a day we were all alone. 

A near miss or close encounter?

The wind should have been kind but instead it was directly behind us making sailing uncomfortable with the boom banging and the sails flapping resulting in uncomfortable frustration.  When the winds picked up and came round to our quarter we put the gennaker out which improved life immeasurably, but it was never consistent and we were always adjusting, sails up and down, in and out.  We were still wearing more clothes than we had in months as the seas from the Antarctic cooled the air keeping conditions fresh.  As we progressed north, the first signs of warmth  appeared in the form of the flying fish but the only excitement was when we discovered our Watt & Sea hydro propellor had been eaten by a shark.  Thankfully, we carried a spare and had our precious generator back up and running.

The three blades of the propellor "eaten" by a shark.

After a long thirteen day passage, we arrived on 19th February at our first stop, the tiny spec in the middle of the South Atlantic,  St Helena.  St Helena is a British Overseas Territory and along with Ascension and Tristan da Cunha, is governed as one centrally from St Helena. This small volcanic island is perhaps most remembered as the place where Napolean had been imprisoned (quite luxuriously as it happens) but also where he was briefly buried after his death in 1821.  The friendly locals are called “Saints” and have a charming accent that’s a concoction of Hobbiton and District 9.

George Town. The main street is one of the best preserved examples of Georgan architecture in the world!

The anchorage was very, very rolly.  Sleep was difficult and getting on and off the boat was harder still.  There was a ferry boat whose skipper was called Benny who could be hailed on the radio. Benny would pick you up from your boat and then take you to the harbour wall.  There you had to wait for a lull in the swell and when the timing was just right, leap as if your life depended on it, grabbing on to some hanging pieces of rope to stop you falling back into the sea.  Very much like the tv show “Gladiators”.  This all seemed to work well enough until one day the First Mate was cross decking from Broadsword to the ferry boat when a big swell caught her off guard.  She made into the ferry but her pinky finger was left behind on the stantion of Broadsword.  Not literally, but there was a definite snap.  The next day her hand was so swollen that a trip to the hospital was in order.  Well, you could have struck her down with a feather when they said her hand was broken. She had never broken a bone in her body, not unless you consider the infamous event on the mid 1970s which involved  her younger brother and the end of a recorder and her nose! Apparently, a nose is cartilage and doesn’t count as a bone break.

First Mate down but not out

We had a great time exploring the island and seeing the house where Napoleon had stayed and saw his empty grave, probably in the most beautiful corner of the island.  And visit to meet Johnathan, the 191 year old tortoise while John felt he had to the 699 steps of Jacobs, Ladder...twice. The island is also famous for is Whale Sharks, where the worlds greatest concentration of the species coalesce for breeding between December to March.  Similar to the basking sharks you see in Scotland, they are harmless filter feeders, but more inquisitive. We booked our snorkelling trip and were rewarded with an extraordinary encounter with these majestic leviathans. 

Whale Shark fly by

We left St Helena and set out for Ascension Island on the 24th February.  With The First Mate incapacitated with her broken hand, The Captain took over most of the menial jobs for a couple of days.  But the hand really did recover very quickly and wasn’t actually all that painful. The First Mate feels she missed a trick and should have milked it for all it’s worth, but The Captain had enough to be dealing with!  The wind just wasn’t happening.  The crew got back into the routine of sails up and down, sails in and sails out. Ever hopeful for more wind to move us further on west and north with the temperature increasing with every day.  Back to existing in our underwear and keeping under the bimini for shade. Soon enough the lights of Ascension Island were on the horizon and at first light on the 29th February we put our anchor down.  It was a short five day passage but glad of another pit stop.

We thought the anchorage was bad at St Helena but here it was worse.  One “solo sailor” left early because of the lack of sleep.  Trying to get to the harbour wall was like running a gauntlet. This process was like something out of the tv program The Crystal Maze, you can see there is a bit of a theme here.  To land, you took your dingy up to near the harbour wall.  There you would find a long rope to which you tied your tender onto.  Then you transferred into the empty red boat and pull yourself along a dysfunctional pulley until you got to the perilous stage of trying to exit the red boat and climb the harbour wall!  Timing your leap with the swell was mission critical.  Get it wrong and you would crush a leg or worse. Our friend, on nearby boat decided it was not safe for his 80-year-old father to go ashore and the poor chap was denied shore leave.

Our gennaker was a life saver in the low to moderate winds

The First Mate suspects that if you like the army, air force or space, then Ascension Island is a worthwhile place to visit.  Those of a certain age and nationality will remember its vital role in the Falklands war, but today it is a strategic base that has more antennas than a porcupine has quills.   It’s an outpost, to name but a few, for BBC World Service, GCHQ, NASA and CIA.  The most impressive roadside sign was “US Space Force”! The airport is called an airbridge, not an airport, and its runway was made long enough to land the Space Shuttle in case it didn’t make The Kenedy Space Centre in Florida. But quite honestly there is not much else.  One fun fact is that there is zero unemployment on the island.  If you don’t have a job…you have to leave.  We cleared customs and immigration with a lovely policeman who was coming off duty and was obviously a wee bit bored offered to take us on a guided tour of the best things to see on the island.  So that was our second trip in the back of a police car in the last six months.  We hired a car to explore and enjoyed the hostelries of the various bases, the NAAFI in the British base, the famous Volcano Club in the American Base and the Saints Club in the civilian sector with some lovely walks up the green mountain where the Marines were garrisoned as an early warning lookout for any attempt by the French to rescue Naploeon on St Helena.  On our penultimate night we went ashore to marvel at the turtles, who had travelled 2000km from Brazil, coming ashore to lay eggs.

Does the logo remind anyone of....Star Trek?

We had decided to set off the next morning at first light.  Up we got at 0530 and the First Mate went to the bow to take up the anchor.  Up it came for about 20 meters and then it stopped. We dropped it again and tried a different angle and still it wouldn’t budge.  We had a trip* line but even tugging this at various angles made no difference. We were well and truly stuck.  Contingencies of having to cut the anchor off and use a back-up were discussed of but thankfully a radio call to the harbour resulted in a wee boat appearing about an hour later and on taking the trip line, had the grunt power and angle to work the anchor free.  We thanked them with a bottle of rum and very relieved, off we set west.

Brisk conditions

The anchor was proved to be the least of our problems as we came to realise that we couldn’t “see” anyone on the AIS (Automatic Identification System – works on VHF charting other ships on your plotter.  Essentially all shipping can see you and you can see all shipping in a range of about 25 miles). We had unwittingly gone into stealth mode which is pretty dangerous and scary, especially at night.  We can see the lights of the tankers at night up to eight miles away but they have no way of seeing us until they are virtually on top of us.  Not only that but the range of our VHF radio was reduced to around two nautical miles rendering a Mayday in an emergency pointless.**  The rest of our passage to Trinidad was going to be one of stress and vigilance.  A bit like meerkats constantly on the lookout for predators.

Anchorage at Fernando De Noronah, Brazil

Ola Brazil!  Fernando De Noronah is an island off the North East Coast of Brazil and this was to be our next resting point. A new country and a new set of rules.  Constantly adapting to the ways of each country in clearing in and clearing out.    We all sat outside a tiny wee hut above the harbour waiting our turn to get into the country.  We decided to hire a beach buggy for the day (or boogie as they call them in Brazil) and with our friends from Panagea we set off to explore the island.  We also enjoyed an incredible dive. The water was 29 degrees at 18 meters, so warm there was no need for a wet suit and the clarity was the without doubt the best we’ve experienced yet.

Spectacular coast line

We had now caught up with the GLYWO (Grand Large Yachting World Odyssey), a rally who’s boats are all made by Grand Large in France covering the Allures, Garcia and Outremer brands.  Their fleet had been circumnavigating in almost the same timescale as us. We have bumped into them in Aruba, Fiji, Christmas Island and South Africa and now again here in Noronah.  During the time we were there, their group very kindly invited us to join them all for dinner.  Lots of tales of adventures were swapped.  But one thing was becoming a common theme.  The wives (not all, but most) were done! They’d had enough and were wanting to go home. This came as a great relief to the First Mate, that she was not alone and not as pathetic as she thought. 

In the doldrums

Off we set, again, north through the doldrums, a zone that straddles the equator famous of low to no wind***.   The winds were good to start, but lightning flashes could be seen on the horizon.  Squalls were going to be the horror of this next passage.  The first couple were ok.  We’d reef in and make sure all was safe.  The squalls come in burst of rain and winds.  They can appear out of nowhere.  We kept the radar on which would pick up the moisture in the rain clouds and give you an indication of the size, direction and speed of a squall allowing you to judge if you are going to take a hit.  On the third night there was a squall that hit us so hard.  It came out of nowhere. It didn’t have time to even form on the radar.  It was terrifying.  We were reefed in and tightly set up, but the winds still managed to get into the rolled up gennaker and work it open and then tear it from it’s line.  The usual yells, screams, tears ensued.  But we were in it and couldn’t get away from it.  It was going at the same speed and direction as Broadsword and despite the Captain gybing to try and get out of it, we were stuck in it for over three hours.  Why is it that these terrifying dramas always unfold at night?

Direct Hit: The range rings show this system is four miles across. On the left bar I've set the auto pilot to "wind" so if the wind angle changes, we will change direction with it and avoid an accidental gybe. The right pannel shows us flying at 9 kts in 25 kts of wind.

The next morning, we WhatsApp’d the others and realised that we had fared better than the most.  Weendy on Panagea had been thrown into the stairs of their yacht, splitting her gum in the process and getting very battered and bruised.  Two other yachts had their booms snapped and had only their head sails to get them to Martinique for repairs.  All very scary stuff but everyone was alive and that was the main thing.

One of our group snapped their boom that same night

Passing the equator was such a big excitement when we first did it two and half years ago between Panama and Galapagos, but this time, slightly battered, bruised and exhausted we limped over without any of the fanfare nor celebration.

The Captain has been watching Papillon in preparation for our arrival to Devils Island in French Guyana.    This will be our third grim prison of notoriety following The Killing Fields in Cambodia and Roben Island in South Africa.  

Devils Island, where political prisoners were imprissoned.

Built in 1850 on the instruction of Napoleon III to rid France of their criminals, the penal colony consisted of the Transportation Camp on the mainland, and the group of three islands knows as The Salvation Islands comprising  Ile Royale, Saint Joeseph Island and  Devils Island.  Each island had different purpose, one being devoted to harsh punishment of solitary confinement, sometimes for years.  Henri Charriere bestselling Papillon describes his ordeal on Devils Island and his eventual successful escape but to visit this horrific institution you quickly come to realise the book does not do the reality justice.  Over 80,000 prisoners were sent over the years and with a mortality rate was 70% and the dead were cast into the sea where the bodies were eaten by sharks.  If you survived your sentence, the law required you to repeat the term of your sentence labouring on the mainland.  This was France’s attempt to colonise French Guyana, but in reality, you would die anyway from malaria or yellow fever. The conditions were worse than grim, the punishments barbaric and the guillotine in regular use. To say it was inhumane would be a gross understatement, but the worst of it was that it was only closed down in 1952.

The Salvation Islands, aka Devils Island

After a few days of exploring the horror of the islands we set off on the short two hour hop to the River Kourou adjacent on mainland French Guyana for the night.  It was hot and noisy, and the mosquitos were horrendous. The main reason was that this is where the French Ariane Space Station is.  One of the crew was extremely excited about this visit. The other, not so much. We arrived at the space station’s visitors centre early in the anticipation of having a lovely lunch in a restaurant and may be a wee daunder round the museum and museum shop.  Sadly, there was none of the above.  It was in fact four hours of her life the First Mate will never get back. 

 Ground control, and the launch pad 

One last stop before Trinidad and Tobago was to be St Laurant du Maroni, 25 miles up a huge brown Amazonian river.  This was where mainland part of the penal colony was built, The Transportation Camp.  Yes, our fourth prison. 

French Guyana is a "department" of France and you are effectively in France. Lucy with David who set up the Marina on Saint Laurent du Maroni

We arrived to a mooring area which entailed having to reverse up to a huge mooring buoy, impossible to lift, and lean over and literally thread the line through the loop on top of the buoy.  Bob’s your uncle, job done.  It was decided that the First Mate should drive and the Captain (no broken hand) would pick up the buoy.  Sounds easy.  Well, the whole of St Laurant du Maroni came to a standstill with the shouting and yelling from the couple on Broadsword. Words were said.  Tears were shed.  It is possible a request for passport and directions to nearest airport might have been ventured. Eventually, we managed to get tied on.  Other boats had crew watching from afar.  We didn’t want to speak to any of them.  You never stand and stare when there is an obvious domestic taking place. 

The view from our mooring on the Maroni River. Increadibley, this is a ship wreck

Annoyingly one of these boats was “Just Paws”.   Annoyingly because it was made up of Drew, Larry and Graham. Two Canadians and one South African, who turned out to be the loveliest people…. ever.  On the first night, we decided to go out to a local restaurant but have some drinks first.  We never made the restaurant.  Day two, we went to the prison together and that night did make the restaurant for a fabulous evening.  Best of all, we explored a network of river tributaries together, deep into the Amazonian forests and rafted up and anchored together for the night.  We had such a fun time with them.  They are also annoying because they are so lovely, we are going to have to go to Canada now and visit them on our way back to the UK.  Thus, taking the First Mate return trip on a wee bit of a detour home.

Larry and Graham of Just Paws, rafted up with Broadsword on the river for the night. Owner Drew MIA.

We were knackered.  We just wanted to get to Trinidad and Tobago and start our pack up and get home.  Even the Captain feels the need to get back home.  We also wanted to get to a hotel as it was the First Mates birthday coming up.  Her third at sea, just saying. It was spent somewhere in the middle of the ocean.  She woke up to her card and presents.  A zippo lighter, a wee figurine of a prisoner from Devil’s Island and a pen that shoots out pepper spray!  Also, a picture of the present that will waiting for her arrival home.  One being a set of radio headsets, more commonly known as ‘marriage savers’ in the sailing fraternity! In compensation for the watery birthday, we booked into the Coconut Reef Resort in Tobago.

Respite from Broadsword. A room with a view.

It was ideal, it was right by a safe anchorage, so the Captain could check his beloved Broadsword from the hotel room. It had a pool. It had clean bedsheets, air con and someone else doing the cooking.  Bliss.  We stayed for a couple of nights but we were being badgered by a friend in the UK who kept asking us where, exactly we were staying.  A little confused, we told him.  A few hours later, we were presented by the staff with an ice bucket and a bottle of Bollinger. What a treat.  Thank you GWM.  An awesome gift, thoroughly enjoyed and appreciated!

Diving a wrek, Lucy in foreground in her brave pants.

As is our habit, we like to dive in every new place we visit and as the hotel had its own dive shop, we booked ourselves in.  The First Mate was rewarded with her first sea horse which has been much requested and ever elusive since we arrived in St Lucia over two years ago.  We hired Matthew for a tour of the island and swam in an incredible waterfall pool.  There we met a guy from the Tobagan Army who regularly performs at the Edinburgh Tattoo, playing, what else, the steel drums!  After five glorious and relaxing days in Tobago, we set off for Trinidad.  A short 12 hour hop south.

We are now two days from coming home.  The boat has been out of the water on the hard for two weeks for the de rig and pack up and we have need every single day to get all the jobs done.

We really cannot wait to see our family.  Cameron, the First Mates nephew, is getting married in ten days’ time and the Prenter family will be all together again for the first time in about 15 years. Her parents, whose 60th anniversary we forgot, will be celebrating a belated 61st.  To family and friends, we can’t wait to see as many of you as possible.

This will be our last blog for this year.  We return to Broadsword in November to continue the journey. Thank you for supporting us and our journey. We couldn’t have done it without you xxxxx

Sunset on the Maroni.

 Follow our journey: https://www.noforeignland.com/boat/broadsword?sid=5279125994471424&tc=1714576652651

From Cape Town to Trinidad

• Miles sailed: 5,812nm

• Days sailed: 45

• Total days: 69

*Trip line: A floating line you tie to the back of the anchor with a small buoy floating on the surface.  Its precautionary tactic so that in the event your anchor is stuck it gives you the opportunity to work the anchor loose using a different point of contact on the anchor.

The doldrums:  Technically known as the ITCZ or Inter Tropical Convergence Zone and also referred to as the Horse Latitudes.  In the olden days, as sailing ships became stuck in the doldrums, they would throw the horses overboard as they ran out of water.

**AIS:  We thought we had suffered a technical problem, perhaps degraded cable or a bad connection. When we got to Trinidad, we discovered we had lost the antenna itself.  Also, worth remembering that a MayDay on VHF on an ocean passage is worthless unless a ship just happens to be within your 20 – 25 nm range when you have that emergency.  Which is one of the reasons you need a sat phone.

Haul out jobs:

• Sails removed and packed up

• All running rigging removed or pulled through and stored

• All deck fixings (jack stays, blocks etc) removed

• All safety gear removed (life buoys, dan buoy, Kim rescue, rope ladder)

• Bimini, Stack Pack and Spray Hood removed

• Tender upturned on fore deck

• Generator serviced, fresh water flush, winterised

• Genset serviced, fresh water flush, winterised

• Sail drive  oil change, seals replaced

• Mast Head Unit removed

• Bow Thruster props removed and cleaned of barnacles

• Anchor Chain, dropped, disconnected and flipped

• Cockpit drain unblocked (from sand in Gordons Bay)

• Generator starter motor replaced (under warranty)

• Gas bottle refill

• Windlass serviced

• Heads serviced

• Transducer removed, cleaned and replaced with plug

• Three automatic bilges, cleaned and tested

• Gel coat – eight spots repaired

• Hull, sanded down by Mr Clean – five day job

• Gennaker repaired

• Bolt on top spreader loose.  Rigger to adjust and replace

• Lazy jack lines replaced

Jobs when we return in November

• Replace VHF antenna and cable.

• Considering changing batteries to Lithium

• Water tanks to purify

• Anti foul hull – primer and three coats Sea Jet 038

• Suzuki outboard to service

• Put everything back on that we took off!