Blog Entry 1 April 11 2025
The celestial navigation crossing of the Atlantic Ocean on Bluejay is underway. After two days of intensive classroom training in Antigua with Bruce, the crew was more than ready to get out on the ocean and start putting theory into practice. On Tuesday, we slipped lines, hoisted sail, and pointed the bow north for the long passage to Scotland, navigating the old way, without GPS, using just sextants, the sun, the stars, and a few sharp pencils.
Conditions couldn’t have been better so far. Classic champagne sailing with bright blue skies, white sails drawing cleanly, and a steady breeze driving Bluejay forward at 7 to 8 knots. The yacht is in her element. We’ve been charging up the western flank of the Azores High, aiming to position ourselves for a clean swing east once we reach the top of the system. A Bermuda stop was an early option, but the forecast closed that door. We’re going direct to the Azores.
The crew has settled in fast. A few early cases of seasickness, as expected, but most are finding their sea legs and leaning into the rhythm of life at sea. The watch system – on watch, off watch, and standby – is working well. Everyone’s learning to make the most of their new routine and find the moments of calm between sail changes and log entries. Night watches in particular have been a standout, steering under moonlight, scanning the sky for familiar constellations, and watching the Milky Way stretch across the black Atlantic sky.
The real focus, though, is celestial navigation. Every day brings more sextant practice. For many, just bringing the sun down to the horizon cleanly is a major win and a breakthrough moment that turns the theory into something real. We’ve already got some sun-run-sun fixes plotted, and they’re surprisingly accurate. There’s a quiet satisfaction in figuring out where you are, using nothing but the sky. We’re starting to prep for star and planet sights now: Mars, Jupiter, and more. Each reading is a step further away from electronics and closer to something timeless.
On deck, it’s been lively. Bluejay is constantly powered up and heeling at 30 degrees. Moving around takes some agility, and galley duty is a contact sport meaning chopping vegetables on the lean, dodging flying mugs, and trying to keep hot pans from sliding off the stove. But spirits are very high. The crew are hands-on, involved, and pushing themselves in all the right ways. We marked Vitaliy’s birthday today with cake and a round of singing, adding some extra fun to the pace of life offshore.
Now several hundred miles from land, it’s starting to hit. No AIS targets. No shipping. Just ocean. In every direction. Out here, things slow down. The distractions are gone. You start to notice the small details such as the sound of water under the hull, the exact moment the sun touches the sea at sunset, the constellations rising one by one after dark. It’s hard not to feel it – the scale of it all, the remoteness, the calm that comes with being this far removed from the noise of everyday life. There’s something utterly spectacular about it.
We’ve got more days of life on the lean before we make our turn east. The wind’s still holding, Bluejay is powering forward, and the crew is locked in: helming, navigating, fixing positions by the sun, and experiencing the Atlantic the way sailors once did. One sight at a time!
