Our departure from Charlestown was anything but straightforward. The flukey winds rolling off Nevis kept us constantly adjusting sail trim, while the scattered fishing pots and uneven swell made for a tricky start. Squalls kept appearing on the horizon, forcing us to work through lots of sail changes, along with gybing for better position, reefing the main, and setting the pole, only to take it down again as conditions dictated. It was a tough introduction to the passage, but the crew adapted quickly, and then settled into the rhythm of the night watches.
As we cleared the shallower waters bordering the Leeward Islands, the conditions eased. The confused chop of the island shelf gave way to the longer, more predictable swells of the deep Caribbean. With the sea state improving, we put Hummingbird onto a broad reach, comfortably making 7-8 knots through the night. The moon rose from behind us, illuminating a rolling ocean of black and silver. It was spectacular.
At first light, with the sea much calmer and the wind still steady from the east, we took the opportunity to make some changed. A gybe put us on a better course, and we poled out the headsail to help us get some more drive and sail a bit deeper. Below decks, the welcome smell of coffee drifted up from the galley as the off-watch crew surfaced. The golden glow of sunrise and the promise of calmer sailing was a big draw.
With conditions now in our favour, we shook out the reef in the main and swap to the Yankee 1. With full sail , Hummingbird flew, making close to 10 knots at times and carving her way through the deep blue of the Caribean Sea. The helm was balanced and the motion smooth: exactly the kind of passage-making that we offshore sailors love.
