Nadia Rolle says little has changed on Bimini since this time a year ago—which is a great thing. The Bahamas took a beating from Hurricane Dorian in September 2019, but Bimini was largely spared. While the Abacos archipelago is still working to clean up the disaster that Dorian created around Marsh Harbour in particular, over on Bimini, it’s business as usual, with boats arriving from the United States in about the same numbers as in years past.

“Everything is pretty much the same,” says Rolle, a senior executive with the Bahamas Ministry of Tourism. “We’re the gateway—the first stop out of Florida. Things have been pretty good. It’s only when the weather is bad that we can see a difference.”

Bimini is about 60 nautical miles from Miami and has long been a first stop for Americans cruising to the Abacos or the Exumas. It’s also a place known for fantastic fishing. The season for blue and white marlin typically peaks in May and June, right around the same time Allison and bluefin tuna, along with grouper and snapper, tend to be lurking around.

Also in June is the boaters’ delight known as the Bimini Boating Fling. (There are actually two this year: June 17-21 and June 24-29.) It’s a guided crossing from Bahia Mar Yachting Center in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, to the Bimini Big Game Club. Each flotilla can have as many as 30 boats, making them ideal for first-timers or for cruisers who simply prefer to cross in a group.

In fact, the crossings have been happening for a number of years, with some boaters returning multiple times. They know Bimini hasn’t changed—and that’s exactly what keeps them coming back for more.

Bimini Basics

Bimini is the closest region of the Bahamas to the US mainland, located about 50 miles east of South Florida.

Resort World Bimini Bahamas can accommodate yachts up to 100 feet length overall. The marina is directly in front of the Hilton resort and casino. Bimini Big Game Club can take boats up to 140 feet length overall, with one slip for a 160-footer. A dive center is among the offerings on-site. Brown’s Marina has slips for boats up to 150 feet length overall. It shares 200 feet of waterfront boardwalk with Bimini Big John’s Bar & Grill. Bimini Sands Marina can handle boats up to 100 feet in length. Mackey’s Sand Bar is on-site, known for seafood pizza. Bimini Bay Marina has dockage for yachts up to 200 feet length overall. The controlling depth at the marina is 12 feet.

The post Cruising Bimini appeared first on Yachting.

Recently Triton Submarines in conjunction with EYOS Expeditions and Victor Vescovo of Caladan Oceanic held a press conference at the Manhattan headquarters of the Discovery Channel to announce an exciting new project. Vescovo will be piloting Triton’s 36000/2 submarine down to the deepest points of all five oceans.

The name of the project is The Five Deeps Expedition and it features the first commercially certified, manned submersible capable of going all the way to the bottom of the ocean — approximately 11,000-meters deep. The expedition will take Vescovo to places never before seen by the human eye. The sub, which is called the Deep Submergence Vehicle (DSV) Limiting Factor, will be toted around the world aboard a support vessel named Pressure Drop. The five deeps that the submarine will visit include the Puerto Rico Trench in the Atlantic (8,648 meters), the South Sandwich Trench in the Southern Ocean (8,428 meters), the Java Trench in the Indian Ocean (7,725 meters), the Mariana Trench/Challenger Deep in the Pacific (10,898 meters) and the Molloy Deep in the Arctic (5,599 meters).

Notably, Vescovo will also explore the Pacific’s Tonga Trench, which has been marked to within 100 meters of the Mariana Trench, and which could possibly become the new deepest known part of the ocean if there’s an uncharted dip in the bathymetry. It’s very exciting stuff. “If I do find that place in the Tonga Trench,” Vescovo said with a smile, “the first thing I’m going to do is call James Cameron.”

The post Five Deep appeared first on Yachting.

At first, he didn’t want to share. The yachtsman had owned a 28-foot Chris-Craft as well as 64- and 95-foot Azimuts, but at boat shows, he always admired the Westports. He loved the speed and style of his own rides, but he craved more space, which he got with the impulse purchase of a Westport 40m at the 2014 Fort Lauderdale International Boat Show. “We said we were going to put her in charter,” he recalls, “but once we got on her, I thought we wouldn’t. Why would I want strangers on my boat?” Like a lot of Westport owners, he softened after the first few years of ownership, and he found a near horde of clients clamoring to charter his yacht. Far Niente, during the first half of 2018, booked seven charters in six months. That’s more business than many yachts get in a year — a level that has kept owners of Westport 112s and 130s flush with revenue for years, and a marketplace that the builder now hopes to tap into itself.

This past May, Westport announced the creation of a charter department run by Kim Vickery, a longtime broker who helped establish the HMY Yachts charter division. Westport aims to create an in-house fleet that would-be buyers can try, and that fans of the brand can charter for fun.

“Up until this point, it really wasn’t a big thing unless the potential owner spoke about charter or tried to justify the costs” of ownership, says Ron Nugent, Westport’s director of marketing. “We could tell him, ‘Yes, you can charter and get X amount,’ and we’d put them with somebody we were comfortable with in the industry. But now, we have so many potential owners who want to charter, to try the boat out, that if Kim can put them on these boats, we have a way to try it.”

As a broker with other firms, Vickery says, she has booked 20 or 30 weeks of charter aboard Westports, including placing the first-ever charter aboard a Westport 164. While nearly two dozen of the smaller Westport models are available for charter, only a handful of the 164s are advertised.

The Westport 164 Hospitality, built in 2011, just joined that group, under the command of Capt. Gavin Hurd. He says the owner plans to offer Hospitality this winter in the Caribbean with a 42-foot Yellowfin tender, and that the yacht is an example of how, while Westports are series builds, each one is a little different.

Hospitality was built so her original owner could cruise the world. “Her stabilizers are slightly oversized, and she runs with four. That makes her extremely stable,” Hurd says. “She also can run at 15½ knots for cruising. That’s extremely comfortable. So many yachts out there are running at 11 or 12 knots. I can kick in a turbo and get to 24 knots. We don’t run at that speed, but the old owner used to do 20, 21, and they went everywhere from Norway to China to Australia.”

The owner of Far Niente also sees his Westport 40m as having unique attributes for charter. Though he bought it after the yard had built it on spec, he added cushy seating around the sun-deck hot tub, a sitting and dining area at the Portuguese bridge, and beds that convert from twins to a king in one of the staterooms, allowing for charters with four couples instead of three.

And it doesn’t hurt that a lot of Far Niente’s charter clients want the types of toys that his family enjoys.

“I just bought the Seabobs a couple of months ago — boy are they a hit,” he says. “My kids and I, we can’t stay off of them. And we have these turbo kayaks that you pedal, and we got the Hobie Mirage, which is like a paddleboard elliptical. It’s so much fun.”

That’s the name of the charter game — fun — and Westport is eager to introduce more people to it through its new division.

“We’ve been talking about this for the last three years,” Nugent says. “We know it’s going to be great.”

The post Live Your Westport Charter Dream appeared first on Yachting.

It was midnight when Nicolas Benazeth stepped onto the aft deck as the crew prepped the sub for a dive to about 200 feet. The 254-foot expedition yacht Legend was anchored in an Antarctica bay that looked like it was “on another planet. The light — you have these amazing mountains all covered in ice and snow, so everything is smooth with this eerie, moonlight glow,” he says. “The sub has this amazing array of lights, and you see these alien life forms down on the seabed. And I was thinking, I’m in a submarine at night in Antarctica seeing these jellyfish and worms and things that you see on nature programs.” Even after the sub returned to the yacht, Benazeth remained in awe. “You think, Did I just do that? Is this real? ” he says. “I came out of that night dive thinking nothing could ever top this, and the next day, I was hanging out with a whole pod of killer whales.”

Jacqui ­Lockhart was with Benazeth as the orcas encircled Legend’s tender.

“I was on my knees on the bottom of the tender with my elbows on the tube, on the side, and I took this picture, and this whale was coming straight at me,” she says. “And then it went under the tender. It was ­crazy.

That same bull whale kept going alongside and looking me in the eye — it was looking right at me.”

Liz Howard was there too, and ­equally speechless.

“I have spent, I don’t know how much time with whales in Alaska,” she says. “I was crew up there for three years. Nothing was like this. They would come right up to us — their eyes and face would be less than a foot from the tender — and then they’d go under the tender, and we could feel them there.”

These people may sound like gushing schoolchildren after a first trip beyond their hometown borders, but they’re actually three of the most experienced charter brokers in the world. Benazeth, who is director of charter at CharterWorld, has been in Australia’s Kimberley coast, Indonesia’s Raja Ampat Islands and the South Pacific islands. Lockhart, a broker with Camper & Nicholsons International, knows top-end yachts so well that she was tapped to run the MYBA Association’s boat-show committee. Howard, a broker with Fraser, has cruised everywhere from Fiji and Dubai to the Galapagos and Myanmar.

They are people who have seen it all, as far as superyachts and exotic destinations go — and to a person, they’ve never seen anything like what Legend is now offering in Antarctica.

“The only word that I can use to describe what the experience was like is otherworldly,” Howard says. “Amazingly u­nique doesn’t begin to describe the experience.”

Legend is the only Class 1 ice-breaking charter yacht, converted during a two-year project at Icon for use in extreme regions. Where yachts in the Caribbean might pile paddleboards, Legend has gear for heli-skiing down Greenland’s peaks. Where yachts in the Mediterranean might have ­mahogany sailing dinghies, Legend has a commercially rated helipad.

“Inside Legend, you would not know that it’s an expedition vessel,” Howard says. “But what he’s done is that instead of filling it with Wave­Runners and ­Seabobs, there’s a ­submarine and ice-ready tenders.”

Ice-ready is a key concept in Antarctica, where vessels often turn back because of the frozen waters.

“Legend is set up where, even the tenders, they can get through the ice fields,” Howard says. “It was like sitting in a huge gin and tonic with crushed ice.”

The weekly base rate for an Antarctica charter is about $570,000, and all-in with the sub, helicopter and other expenses, Howard says, the total is about $1 million.

It’s worth it, she and the others say, for anyone who thinks he’s seen it all.

“It offers something that there’s no other way in the world to do,” Howard says. “It’s pure luxury in pure nature.”

The post Chartering Antarctica appeared first on Yachting.

From aboard the Fleming 75  Nikita,  I spy what looks like a miniature cable car. It starts at the dock and travels up — and up, and up, at least 500 feet — to a home high above Norway’s Geirangerfjorden fjord. Geirangerfjorden. It’s OK that I can’t say it, because I’m pretty much speechless looking at the fjord’s beauty. That home is along a shoreline that is a collage of forested slopes, towering cliffs, waterfalls, pastures and isolated farmsteads, some of which are built atop impossibly high, verdant plateaus. How the residents access them, or how building supplies were lofted up to these precipices before the days of cable cars, remains a mystery to me. One of the now-dormant hydroelectric stations here, Flørli, holds two world records: the second-highest fall, with a distance from reservoir to turbine of nearly half a mile, and the most steps, at 4,444. We’re happy to look up at that one from the yacht too.

Norway is known for many things, from snow-capped mountains to enchanting villages, but it’s best known for its fjords and out islands, which rank as some of the world’s most picturesque and easily accessible. Most are within protected waters, and passages between destinations rarely require more than a day’s cruise, making this region a playground for cruisers who want to commune with nature.

During a three-week passage aboard the Fleming 75 Nikita, our five-person crew made 17 stops along Norway’s southern, fjord-bound coastline. Geirangerfjorden, among the best-known fjords in Norway, is part of a larger fjord network that includes Storfjorden, Norddalsfjorden, Tafjorden and Sunnylvsfjorden. It penetrates deep into Norway’s vertiginous interior, which will have to wait for another day, since the coastline itself offers so much to see.

After being underway for a half day, we reach the village of Geiranger, situated at the head of the eponymous fjord. The village seems quiet, albeit with a substantial marina, by Norway’s standards, filled mostly with family-size powerboats for day cruising. I trek up the dock and make a circuit around the village, which, the locals warn, goes from sleepy to frenetic each morning as one to three cruise ships disgorge thousands of tourists.

The following day it happens, but it’s a passing storm instead of a flood; most of the visitors board buses for day tours, leaving the hiking trails deserted for us. Nikita’s mate and I travel to a farmstead roughly 1,000 feet above the fjord and drink in the storybook vistas.

A confession: When Nikita’s owner suggested that we stay off the boat and visit the Flor & Fjære garden, I was less than enthused. I’m not sure what I imagined a visit to a private family estate with tens of thousands of flowers might be like, although I was certain it would be boring compared to what we’d see in nature.

I had no idea how wrong I could be. Situated on the island of Sør-Hidle, this horticultural miracle defies logic. There are roses and banzai trees, cactuses and windmill palms, and each garden contains exotic plants from all around the world, with each display offset by lakes, bridges and waterfalls. A herd of sheep, fenced off from the gardens, is here too, along with a sandy beach that can be mistaken for a secluded tropical island. The variety of plants and trees is astonishing, particularly when one considers the latitude at which it resides, similar to that of Stockholm, Sweden, and Helsinki, Finland.

Flor & Fjære founders Åsmund and Else Marie Bryn, in 1965, built a cottage on the island as a getaway from the Norwegian city of Stavanger, where they ran a commercial nursery. Åsmund became bored and planted a garden. By 1995, the barren, windswept island retreat was transformed into a veritable Garden of Eden with its own microclimate. That same year, the couple’s son opened the garden to the public. Last year, more than 28,000 people reportedly toured the grounds. Like many of them, at the end of my visit, I vowed to return.

But on this journey, I still had more to see. From ashore at Preikestolen, known as “Pulpit Rock,” I could stand on a precipice and gaze down at Lysefjorden nearly 2,000 feet below. Gray clouds hung around snow-speckled peaks, but the weather was clear enough to see a dozen miles up the fjord. In a few hours, the tourists would be cheek by jowl in this spot, but by then, I’d be back aboard Nikita, with my eyes on some other of nature’s prizes.

Floating History

While Nikita is berthed in the oil industry port of Stavanger, I feel as much as hear a distinctive sound, a rhythmic kachug, kachug, kachug. Looking out the salon window, I see a vintage fishing boat blowing smoke rings from its obsidian stack, giving the vessel away as the home of a single-cylinder diesel. I beeline it to the bulkhead, and the vessel’s mate — with his “crush cap,” striped epaulets and perfectly manicured beard — takes me down into the engine room to behold the behemoth chugging away at 200 rpm. Each time the cylinder fires, it shakes the vessel to the top of the mast. The air smells deliciously of hot oil. It turns out that this is the MS Rapp, built in 1913 out of Norwegian cedar and repowered in 1955 using what’s popularly known as a 40 HK RUBB, which was manufactured by Wichmann Motorfabrikk at Rubbestadneset on Bømlo, an island just south of Bergen.

Power Principle

Most of the wharfs we visited offered meager electrical hookups, typically between 8 and 16 amps at 240 volts (1,920 to 3,840 watts). This shortage could have been challenging, if not for the setup on board Nikita. She has a 2,000 amp-hour lithium iron phosphate battery bank and a 16 kW power-sharing Victron inverter/charger system. Basically, the entire vessel, including air conditioning and the galley stove, can operate from the system.

There are other benefits too: After 19 hours of quiet ship time, with no shore power or generator operation, Nikita’s battery bank was still at 50 percent. Unlike conventional batteries, these batteries can be depleted to 20 percent, and less-than-complete recharges don’t harm the batteries. Using her twin 400-amp alternators, Nikita recharged the 50 percent batteries back to full while underway in just three hours.

Ålesund’s Shetland Bus

During World War II, the Norwegian town of Ålesund was nicknamed “Little London” for the resistance activity that took place in and around it, along with the frequent, small-boat crossings known as the Shetland Bus made between the town and Scotland’s Shetland Islands. Early in the war, all of the crossings carrying resistance fighters, saboteurs and agents, as well as supplies and refugees, were made using local fishing boats known as Møre Cutters, which were unique to Ålesund.

The wooden boats were 50 to 70 feet in length, with twin masts and a single-cylinder semidiesel engine. Most crossings were made in winter, which afforded the camouflage of long, dark nights, but also subjected the boats to North Sea gales. A number of the vessels and their crews were lost to enemy action or bad weather. A respite arrived thanks to the U.S. Navy, which, in 1943, provided four 110-foot former submarine chasers. They were faster and safer than the fishing vessels, and all survived the war.

The post Cruising Norway’s Fjords appeared first on Yachting.

Blog one from sea

A maddening day yesterday with only 119 miles covered – one of my worst ever. For some six hours there was no wind and the boat wallowed on the left over waves while sails slapped aloft. I furled the genoa away just to stop her slapping. Finally wind, and right now I am purring along at 10 knots (11 miles per hour) and have the batteries charging up again.

I am in the western side of the Sargasso Sea and seaweed is everywhere, along with debris consisting of twine, buoys and some plastic. Cleaning seaweed off the hydro generators was a routine task yesterday.

Sleeping 30 minutes at a time and doing well. Had first cup of coffee today – strange how when at sea I lose interest in this staple. I heard from my wife Catherine that my departure was on the front page of the “St. Augustine Record” and said, I believe, Bon Voyage Stanley. Nice!

To all those that are following this voyage at www.stanleyparis.com, go to the Yellow Brick symbol to see my progress. And, yes, thank you for your interest.

The post Blog One from Sea appeared first on Yachting.

Gerry Hughes on Beneteau 42

On September 1, 2012, Scottish school teacher Gerry Hughes set out from the Firth of Clyde in Scotland in his Bruce Farr-designed Beneteau 42s7, Quest III. Some eight months later, he just sailed_ Quest III_ into Troon, Scotland, becoming the first deaf person ever to complete a solo circumnavigation of the globe.

The 32,000-mile journey included gale-force winds and recurring problems with electronics and communications equipment, much to the dismay of more than 3,000 supporters who followed Hughes’s attempt online. But he persevered, saying that he wanted to fulfill his lifelong ambition and serve as an inspiration for young deaf people to overcome obstacles.

Hughes has been deaf since birth — and he’s been shattering stereotypes and records pretty much ever since then. He learned to sail at age 2, just before he began attending a school for the deaf in Glasgow. He has wanted to sail around the world since he was 14, even though he struggled with reading and writing until he was 15. He became the first deaf skipper to sail around the British Isles in 1981, and in 1983 became director of Quest for a Language, where he developed a sign-language curriculum. Hughes became the first known deaf skipper to sail across the Atlantic in 2006, played for Scotland six times in the World Deaf Golf Championships, and is the first deaf person ever to have gained chartered teacher status in Scotland.

To find out what Hughes plans to do next, check out www.gerrysmhughes.com.

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Fleming Arrives in Iceland

Our berth in Vestmannaeyjar’s harbor was along a floating dock that included a number of recreation boats and several small fishing vessels. Nearby a fleet of excursion boats ran visitors from Reykjavik to see whales, puffins and the dramatic landscapes of this island chain known as the Westman Islands.

But it was clear that we were in a major fishing port, as we were surrounded by large trawlers unloading their catch or readying their boat for their next trip in the North Atlantic waters. What we didn’t quite realize at first, thanks to a favorable wind direction and the fact that we arrived on a Sunday, was the overpowering smell from the fish processing plants that enveloped our boat and permeated into everything, including our clothing. Later that evening a large tanker arrived to unload its cargo of “black oil,” an unrefined fuel so thick it must be heated before being used in the large, slow turning diesels of the fishing fleet.

The village of Heimaey was virtually deserted on Sunday afternoon, although several people found their way to our dock to get a closer look at Venture II. Once again we had the largest pleasure boat in the harbor, and these seasoned seafaring folk were curious to know more about it. A fellow who had just returned from a family fishing outing on his 30-foot boat stopped by to give us four very large cod fish to welcome us to Vestmannaeyjar. I was elected to clean and fillet them and later prepared a delicious baked cod dinner. We still have enough frozen fish for two more dinners.

The next day we set out to explore the immediate area, eventually finding “Pompei of the North,” the name of the excavation site of several buildings consumed by the volcanic eruption of 1973. This eruption lasted five months and covered nearly one-third of the entire town. Eventually the archeologists hope to uncover part of the old town.

Chris checked the weather reports for our 130-mile passage to Reykjavik, and we decided to leave the following day. We charted a course that would first take us by the island of Surtsey, 20-miles south of Heimaey, which was created during a series of volcanic eruptions between 1963 and 1966. Declared a nature reserve in 1965, visitors are prohibited from landing, as scientists use it as a pristine laboratory to study the process of colonization of plants and animals.

Underway from the friendly but odoriferous Vessmannaeyjar harbor at 0500, we passed Surtsey at 0700, spotting the lone building housing the resident scientists. It’s hard to imagine this entire island didn’t exist until the mid 60s.

The wind was blowing a steady 25 knots and the seas were running 5-feet on top of the ocean swell, but fortunately they were behind us. Venture II’s autopilot and stabilizers did their job superbly, keeping us steady and on track, averaging 10-knots. It was a welcome change from the bashing we took three days before. As we ran 4-miles off Iceland’s southern coast we spotted the general area of Eyjafjallajökull (don’t even attempt to pronounce it) where the most recent volcano erupted, causing extensive damage to farmers because of floods and ash fallout and sending its ash to contaminate Europe’s airspace. By now it was obvious to us that Iceland is still a “young” island country, with which Mother Nature has not yet finished.

At 1400 we rounded the southwest point of Iceland, turning north towards Reykjavik, and by 1800 we were tied up downtown at the floating dock of the Brokey Yacht Club. Again, we were by far the largest yacht, as most of the boats at the club were 25 to 35-foot sailboats. There really wasn’t enough room for us, as our forward section projected 20-feet beyond the end of the dock. But it was good enough to spend the night, and we figured we would inquire about finding a more suitable berth the next day.

The four of us felt quite a sense of accomplishment watching the busy scene in Reykjavik Harbor for hours, as the sun doesn’t set here until midnight and rises three hours later. Based on the few pleasure boats we’ve seen, and particularly the absence of any sizeable powerboats, cruising to Iceland is major undertaking. Most powerboats we’ve seen in Europe (except for the very large superyachts) are really not capable of making such a voyage, as their range and self-sufficiency are not up to the task.

Tony Fleming began this 2,200-mile journey in April, leaving Southampton, England to explore the Scottish Isles before heading to Iceland. Much like his 20,000-mile voyage on VENTURE I from Alaska to Nova Scotia (with a side trip to the Galapagos Islands), he enjoys visiting out-of-the-way destinations and spending enough time to experience the many different cultures he discovers along his route. He documents his exciting travels by shooting and producing high quality, informative, high definition videos, which are available as DVDs on Fleming’s web site, www.flemingyachts.com.

With a new crew arriving in a week, Tony and Chris are planning to circumnavigate Iceland before heading back to Scotland, eventually arriving in the U.K. in time for the Southampton Boat Show in early September. Tony’s recites his mantra nearly every day, “If you love boating, go now. We’re not getting any younger, boats are not getting any cheaper, and the economic conditions are not going to get much better.”

I couldn’t have said it any better and are already planning my next cruise aboard my own boat as soon as I return home to the States.

– from Reykjavik, Iceland aboard Venture II by George Sass, Sr.

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Entering Heimaey Harbor

Days 11 – 13- Chris, Tony’s captain, checked the weather forecast for the next several days, and determined that we would have satisfactory, although not ideal, conditions if we left Friday by noon. Our intended landfall was the Westman Islands (Vestmannaeyjar) off the south coast of Iceland, 390 miles WNW of Torshavn. One of Chris’ favorite weather sources, buoyweather.com, showed we would have moderate winds of 10 to15 knots out of the NW with seas averaging 6 to 7 feet for the beginning of our 45-hour passage. However, it also showed that the wind would increase to 25-28 knots and seas would build to 10-feet at about the time we would be 90-miles from landfall.

The Fleming 65, a twin-engine, pilothouse motoryacht, is designed and built to handle such conditions, so we headed out to sea understanding that we might be a bit uncomfortable for the last part of our passage. Of course weather forecasts can only predict numerical data. The reality of conditions at sea can be a different matter—as we found out.

Venture II is powered with twin MAN 800-horsepower diesels, and while she can cruise at 17-knots, long distance runs are typically made at an economical and comfortable 8.5 to 10 knots. She carries 1,700 US gallons of fuel and at 8.5 knots burns less than10 gallons per hour, giving her a range of approximately 1,400 miles at that speed.

Leaving Torshavn, we threaded our way between the cliffs of Streymoy and Vagar Islands, hoping to stop and launch the tender to take photos of Venture II against the dramatic landscapes. But the wind roared down the cliffs from a funnel-like effect, directed against the current and causing a nasty, wet chop that would have been a sure camera-killer. We had also hoped to take a short detour to the south, passing by Mykines Island for a view of the puffins against the cliffs, but a heavy cloud cover engulfed the island ruining our second photographic opportunity. Instead, we headed out to sea, setting a course of 290 degrees magnetic for Vestmannaeyjar off the coast of Iceland.

Chris established a watch system of 2 hours on and 6 hours off for the four of us, and we quickly got back into our offshore rhythm of reading, writing, eating, sleeping, sharing sea stories and standing watch. Those who have experienced an offshore passage know the quality of time it can provide. Unless there is an emergency, distractions are few, and having only a limited number of things to do often allows the contemplation of the bigger, more meaningful picture of one’s state-of-affairs. For me, relationships, family, finances and spirituality become much clearer when I am at sea than when I’m at home taking care of the tasks of everyday life.

With the Faroes fading behind us, we were finding the conditions not as favorable as predicted. While the wind was a moderate 14 knots, the seas were 8 to 10 feet and very confused, being mixed in with the large ocean swell. Our log entries described conditions as “very lumpy” for the first eight hours, but by 2100 the wind decreased to 5 knots out of the northwest, and the seas began to flatten, leaving only a gentle ocean swell. The overcast sky became clear, and a photo taken at 2300 shows the sun setting on a beautifully calm ocean. We were making nearly 10 knots, and life was grand, indeed.

By early next morning we had traveled 140 miles. The wind again picked up to 14 knots, now blowing out of the west, and the seas began to build on top of the swell. The skies had turned cloudy, and we passed through several light rain showers. We again looked at our printed weather reports which predicted we would be experiencing worse conditions ahead.

By 1600 the winds were now 20 plus knots WSW, or about 45 degrees off our port bow. Throughout the late afternoon and early evening they steadily increased to more than 30 knots, and the sea conditions gradually built to 8-footers or more. But while their size was not a problem, their direction and shape were. The opposing ocean current created menacing square walls of water off our bow that were breaking on top as Venture II rose to their crests, high on top of the ocean swell, leaving our 135,000 pound ship to fall mercilessly into a huge hole below. More often than not the fall was taken gracefully, with Venture II’s deep forefoot softening the blow. But every once in a while, we experienced a loud, jarring, sickening crash that shook everything in the boat, including our sense of confidence. These are the times when you begin to wonder what the hell you’re doing out here. I confess to thinking, “If I wanted to see Iceland so much, I could have flown there and been in a classy hotel eating a wonderful dinner.”

Of course the other thought that went through everyone’s mind was, “I hope nothing important on the boat breaks.” Luckily, this was a Fleming, known for its quality build. And next to me holding on with both hands was Tony Fleming himself, the man responsible for designing and building these boats for the past 25-years. “Well, this is exactly why we build them the way we do,” he said in his typically understated, British sort of way. As it turned out, nothing but a bottle of beer in the refrigerator was broken. Later, again in his signature British way of expression, Tony gently admonished us for buying bottles instead of cans.

For the next 16 hours we endured snotty conditions, being extra cautious with each movement throughout the boat to prevent falling and twisting or breaking a limb. The stabilizers did a terrific job in keeping Venture II from rolling side to side, but they couldn’t help our violent vertical motion in these steep head seas. We spotted the mainland of Iceland at 0500 and began to see a number of large fishing trawlers coming and going from Vestmannaeyjar, which produces 12% of the nation’s fish catch. At 0700 we saw our intended landfall, and the seas finally began to subside as we got into the lee of this group of islands. On our starboard side we could see the mainland area near Eyjafjallajokull, the sight of the most recent volcano activity that caused so much travel disruption throughout Europe.

Entering Heimaey Harbor, we saw how the volcano eruption in the winter of 1973 actually created an extra-long seawall adding to the protection of the harbor. Without the heroic efforts of the fishing fleet, which not only evacuated the entire population of the island to the mainland, but returned to pump millions of water per day into the advancing lava flow, the harbor would have been sealed forever, and with it the entire lifestyle and livelihood of these resilient, hard-working people.

After tying up among the fishing fleet and meeting the customs agent who welcomed us to Iceland, a shower, hot lunch and cold beer were our rewards for our 400-mile bash to the volcanic world of Vestmannaeyjar.

Stay tuned for our voyage to Reykjavik and more.

For a gallery of images from George Sass, Sr.’s Iceland adventure click here.

The post Next Stop, Iceland! appeared first on Yachting.

Public Transportation Faroe Style

Docked along the main visitor’s quay in downtown Torshavn, we found ourselves quite the attraction to locals walking and driving by. Many have stopped to ask about Venture II, as it is the largest private yacht in the harbor, and being a powerboat of this size, it is even more unusual. Of particular interest is the fact that it is built of fiberglass. We saw a few passers-by rubbing the hull to feel the molded-in, wooden plank facade of the gleaming gelcoat hull. Tony, now serving as Fleming’s “Ambassador-at-Large,” is an especially gracious owner, often inviting people onboard for a tour_._

Mixed in with all the positive first impressions of the Faroes has been the realization of how much everything costs. While the guidebooks warn of this, it’s still a bit shocking to pay $10 for a beer and $20 for a simple sandwich. The currency is in Danish krónas, and there are roughly 17 krónas to a dollar. After factoring in the exchange rate, lunch for four can easily cost $150. Of course just about everything here, with the exception of fish and wool, must be shipped from the mainland hundreds of miles away.

On Monday, our first full day here, we rented a car and drove to the next island, Eysturoy, to see the picturesque village of Gjógv. While the winding roads are in good condition, they are extremely narrow in many areas, cut into the sides of the mountains and running precariously close to the edge with vertical drops of hundreds of feet. Seeing an approaching truck or bus can be a heart-stopper.

Most of the islands are connected by a series of underwater tunnels, and some tunnels have been dug under the mountains to avoid having to carve longer roads around them. Gjógv is a charming little village built near a dramatic gorge that leads down to the sea. Like much of the Faroes, it is a mixture of old and new. Turf-roofed homes stand next to contemporary structures, and modern fiberglass skiffs share space with traditional wooden craft.

The next day we drove to the island of Vogur hoping to catch a ferry to Mykines, the island known for its population of the photographic puffin, but we unfortunately missed the only morning boat. Although the weather was generally overcast, the dramatic mountain landscapes, lush green valleys and colorful buildings highlighted with sod roofs, are a photographer’s delight. We drove for hours, stopping often to capture these unforgettable sights.

As we arrived at the ferry dock the next morning for our one-hour ride to Mykines, we began to question our preparation, or lack thereof, for the trip. It was drizzling a cold rain, and every other passenger was dressed in heavy-duty foul weather gear or extreme, waterproof hiking outfits. Even their backpacks had rain covers. Most carried telescopic walking sticks. Hmm. What do they all know that we don’t?

The “ferry” was a relatively small, 45-foot boat with a partially protected passenger deck. The passenger limit was posted at 40, and it was clear that we were at or beyond this limit. Nonetheless, we shoved off for the one-hour ride in the open ocean. Our landfall was dramatic to say the least, as we ran parallel to a high wall of rock for 200 yards, no more than two boat lengths off our starboard side. The surge lifted and dropped us as we headed straight towards the rocky shoreline. Suddenly, the captain spun a 180, pointing the bow into the surge as he came alongside a concrete wall and grabbed a spring line from a landside helper.

While the captain kept the engine running at idle and the transmission in gear, we timed our jump to the concrete pier, hoping our backpacks wouldn’t get caught and our footing on the wet surface wouldn’t fail us. From here we climbed 200 feet up a steep path to an overlook, where we could see exactly how precarious the landing is. Understandably, the ferry sometimes has to turn back, unable to land safely if the surge is too great.

People come to this island to hike to its peak and to see and photograph the puffins, but the weather this day made it almost impossible to do either. A combination of rain, fog and high winds made the ascent too difficult for those of us carrying heavy camera equipment, and even if we made it to the top, we wouldn’t be able to see anything to photograph.

The next and last ferry was in five hours, so many of us gathered in a tiny “guesthouse” to stay dry and warm. When it became too crowded with the brave, soaking-wet hikers returning from their climb to the top, several of us took refuge in the church where we were sheltered from the rain and cold wind.

Finally, through the increasingly thick fog and building seas, we saw the ferry approach and do its 180 trick maneuver. From its small cargo hold, cases of beer, produce and building supplies were unloaded for the few people who live here during the summer. We now faced a one-hour ride into heavy winds and head seas, and those who were not completely sheltered took a one-hour saltwater shower. As if out of the Chevy Chase “European Vacation” movie, an elderly British woman who not only had slipped and fallen on her back when boarding but who had been thoroughly drenched with salt spray, simply said, “It was a tad wet, wasn’t it?”

The next day we drove to the north islands, where the weather was nearly perfect. And when the clouds and fog rolled in to spoil our photo opportunities, within a few minutes they would be gone, replaced by sunny, blue skies. The air here in the Faroes is clear and fresh, like Monhegan Island off the coast of Maine, inspiring artists to paint their finest work.

Kneeling down in a field of buttercup flowers while composing a photo in the village of Noródepil, I was approached by a strapping man who introduced himself as Zacharias Hammer. He lived across the street, and when he found out I was a journalist for Yachting magazine, he invited me to his home to share a bowl of special “Viking” soup made of lamb and fish. Zach was a documentary filmmaker on his way to Greenland to shoot a television program. By now Tony had arrived, and the two compared their high-end video cameras, sharing their fondness for Apple’s Final Cut Pro. After soup we had coffee and cookies served by his charming wife, who welcomed us into her home.

These folks were just two examples of the graciousness and warm hospitality we have experienced throughout our visit to these faraway islands. Returning to Venture II late that afternoon, we began our preparation for our 500-mile voyage to Iceland the following day.

Stay tuned, the weather is building.

For a gallery of images from George Sass, Sr.’s Iceland adventure click here.

The post Exploring the Faroes appeared first on Yachting.