CAPTAINS LOG

by George Day

Blue Water Sailing
August 2008


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First Night

This is the time of year when a lot of sailors head offshore or along the coast for distant landfalls, whether they are competing in events like the Newport Bermuda Race or Pacific Cup or simply cruising far and wide to new cruising grounds. And for many, this year will be the year when they sail through the night for the first time.

Making an overnight passage is a kind of threshold in the sailing life that sets you free to explore much farther and wider than you can when limited to daily runs. For us, every time we set off for a passage we have butterflies in our stomachs and a heightened alertness and focus. You leave the harbor buoys behind, clear the sea buoy and then you are soon out of sight of land. It is amazing how quickly that can happen. And, if you are sailing in a fleet event, you will be amazed at how the boats disperse so that by midnight you may see only a few masthead running lights in the distance.

The open sea can seem remarkably empty on a first night offshore, unless you are still in shipping lanes and dodging commercial traffic. The shore birds that may have followed you for a while have turned for home. The night sky is darker and the stars brighter than you are used to since there is no ambient light from civilization. The short sea chop along the coast changes as you get off soundings into larger ocean rollers that are far apart and cause an easier motion of the hull as it rolls and pitches.
Once you have eaten dinner and battened down for the night, the offwatch heads to their bunks for a few hours of sleep. That leaves you on deck for the first watch and that amazing sense of self-reliance that comes with being in charge of a sailing ship heading somewhere interesting over the big ocean. You feel small and alone but very much the master of your own fate. It can be exhilarating or even a little scary.

The graveyard watch from midnight to three or four in the morning is the coldest, darkest, most desolate time of night. The wind and waves seem to build as you get more and more tired. The flash of wave tops or the glint of a low shooting star will startle you and make you think you are seeing distant emergency flares. And passing ships will seem too close for comfort.

If you are a morning person, then the dawn watch is the best of the night because you get to watch the sky change color so steadily and magically as the stars fade away in the gloaming. With the coming of the light, the wind and waves seem to go down and the ocean seems a safer and friendlier place. The halo of the sun coming over the horizon and the aroma of coffee wafting from the galley will make you smile.
That first night at sea, whether it is your very first or just the first of that passage, has a real effect even on veteran sailors. You’ve sailed a hundred miles or more. You have put your home port behind you and made progress to somewhere and something new.

You have joined the ranks of blue water sailors—a clan whose sailing horizons are only limited by the size of their dreams.