The Pit Stop

We made it to the Bahamas!

I apologize for the lack of pictures, currently I lack the tech to get the pics up here. I will add them in ASAP!

On Tuesday the 23 of January we launched the boat. I woke at 8 am after a night out with Logan saying bon voyage to island friends. Logan rose as well. We had a 930 launch time and still had quite a few things to do before we would be ready. Including buying food for the trip. So we decided logan would run to buy food and I would prepare the boat. The travelift showed up at 845... whoops.  I literally started throwing things from the ground up into the cockpit. And then throwing trash from the boat to the ground for us to collect later. About this time logan strolled on back from the store with about a dozen bags of groceries. Thank god I tipped Lee during haul out. He told us not to worry, that we had time. So we put the ladder up and threw all the groceries into the cockpit. The slings set up, the boat lifted off of its jack stands and we slopped on some paint to the spots we missed minutes before Tilikum hit the water again. "She still floats, so that's good" I said to Lee.

We spent about 3 hours at the wharf cleaning and double checking all our lists. There were still some smaller tasks to be done (like wiring our autopilot), but nothing that couldn't be done along the way. We said our good byes to Sam and his brother Nate and headed for open water.

Logan was feeling a little under the weather. We couldn't figure out if it was motion sickness or maybe some lasting effects of the beverages consumed the night prior. But, considering the illness began before the boat even touched the water, I have my suspicions as to its cause. Never the less we were underway. I managed to get Tilikum to sail herself with just the blade jib up going close hauled. I finished wiring up our solar panels and self steering gear, also affectioanetly known as "Jeeves" our handy dandy auto pilot. I paniced for a moment when jeeves (literally an antique at 30ish years old) didn't fire up when I wired him in. But I later found a burnt out fuse behind the electrical panel and replaced it. I found out that Logan never realized until I mentioned it that we wouldn't have to drive the whole way. Thank god for Jeeves because that would be miserable. As I wrote this we haven't touched the wheel for 24+ hours. I try to give Jeeves a little love every day and tell him things like "Jeeves, your a champion and we love ya, kept up the good work buddy".

On day one we rounded near sail rock, known for its hammerheads and various shark species.. we saw none. We then came up around Culebra, the Spanish Virgin Island (US owned). Then in the evening I dodged cruise ships all night as we rode about 10 miles north of the Puerto Rican coast. I saw the lights of San Juan as we sailed by. Winds we good and we were doing about 5 knots with just the blade jib. Easy peasey.

The next day, Puerto Rico remained in sight with its hazy mountains just above the horizon. Less ships though which was nice, cruise ships annoy me, with their abnoxious lights polluting the night skies. Winds picked up and turned Northerly. We reefed the main during the day and then again at night. I hand steered a good part of the night, navigating by the stars because Jeeves was having trouble handling the weather helm.

In the morning of the next day we lost sight of Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic came into view. In addition to the Dominican Republic, some humpback whales graced us with their presence. They on on their migration route from the North including Nova Scotia and the Bay of Fundy South via various passages through the Carribean Islands. Shortly after the humpbacks disappeared Logan went below for a nap. We have both been impatiently fishing hoping for a fresh meal with no success other then the occasional vegan sargasso seaweed meal that would hook. But finally just as I was ready to give up, the line started singing. I grabbed our massive antique shark fishing rod, the one my uncle Jimmy gave me.  I had boasted to so many of my friends about how overkill this rod was and how we could catch anything with it. It instantly snapped, I started yelling, Logan!... no response Logan!... no anwser LOGAN! LOOOOGANNN!!!???!!!. "Logan I am not f***ing with you I actually have a fish and the rod just snapped!" No answer to any of my calls. I think to myself, "Thank God I didn't fall overboard cause I'd be a goner." I start to bang on the wall that would be just above his head in the bunk. He finally rose to action and we began to hand line the fish in. I later found out he was having a dream where I fell overboard and was yelling at him. After a long fight, we finally got the fish to the boat and found it was a Mahi Mahi! Yum! As I lifted the line quickly to dump him into the cockpit he fliped his tail and just like that, he was gone. We both screamed "NOO!!!". It was gone and so was our lunch. Logan wrote a poem about our sorrows later which exemplifies our feelings.

Miss Da' Fish
By: Logan MacLennon

Oh, to miss da' fish.
The wait and struggle for a dish.

Lines go zip, rod goes whip.
Wake me up, we have our wish.

The rod has broke, what a joke.
Grab the line, keep in time.

The (censored) thing jumps, I (censored) my trunks.
It's Mahi Mahi, we know it's tasty.

Get it to the boat, all she wrote.
It spits the hook, just as we get a good look.

Oh, to miss da' fish.
The wait and the struggle for a dish.

We decided to head further north away from land closers to Navidad and Silver bank in the hunt for the Mahi that got away.

On the following day, we lost sight of Dominican Republic for good. The wind was right on our tail so we sailed wing and wing for 15 hours +. We couldn't see land and the swell and chop was really small. Logan mention, "I think I'm going to go for a dip".  Before you knew we had a line dragging behind the boat and Logan was in, I was next, I hopped in did a few twirls and dives then got out. There's something about 6000 feet of water underneath you that gets the blood pumping and makes you not want to stay to stay in for too long. The natural progression was to of course get the surfboard involved. Within minutes Logan had untied the board that Sam gave us from the stanchions, attached leash to his ankle and jumped in. He was scurfing under sail, offshore, out of sight of land, with 6000 feet of water underneath him. This is when I mentioned "Logan, you ever watch shark week on discover channel? When those sharks attack seal shaped objects from beneath leaping through the air?" He wasn't deterred and instead started doing 360s and riding fins first.

 We decided that we weren't going to be able make it to the Bahamas before sunset on the following day. We needed to get there during daylight so we could navigate our way into the shallow Anchorage safely. So we had time to kill so we would make it there the following morning and not at night. We decided that we were going to conduct a pit stop. We picked out a small blip on the chart called White Cay, part of the Turks and Caicos (if the TC border people are reading this I'm sorry (notsorry)). It's an island about 500ft in diameter in the middle of nowhere. We decided that we would go there in the morning and kill some time swimming/beaching and then take off. The following morning we arrived at the cay just after sunrise. The blip on the chart was a rock jutting out of the endless ocean with overhanging cliffs on the east and west points. There was even a little blow hole splirting out mist when the small swells lapped up against the rock cliff.

On the north side was a white Sands beach.  This was truly one of those Islands you see pirates get stranded on after a munity, untouched! We found a sandy patch of bottom in about 25 feet of water and 150 feet from shore. We ate a hardy breakfast of coffee kiwi and pancakes. Then plunged into the water. It was breathtaking, clarity was 80+ feet, coral was everywhere and healthy. This place was obviously untouched by humans. We instantly saw two 4 foot barracuda.  We swam to shore and did a little exploring, no footprints other than iguana,  bird, crab, and seal tracks were found. We saw a boat on the horizon, the first wed seen for days. It was headed in our general direction and we decided that if it was the authorities that we would have a better argument if we were in the water and not on land. So we jumped back in and did more snorkeling on the way back to the boat. It was incredible.

When we got back into the boat many high fives were shared and we recounted what each other had seen with excitement. Then we got on our merry way headed for the edge of the Turks and Caicos bank.

On the way there we caught 2 barracuda which was very exciting. Logans was a good size (36" & 25 punds or so) and mine was slightly smaller. It was likely on account of a shark having eaten half of mine on the way in but logan didn't buy that excuse and rub his victory in my face. But barracuda from what I had heard are no good for eating, so we threw them back.

When we got to the edge of the bank the water instantly changed from the shallow water aquamarine color to the deep water velvety blue. We dropped of from 30 feet to 3000 feet in just a few minutes.

That evening we were about to be treated to yet another unobstructed sunset. Logan and I decided to go up on deck to watch it with a few beers. We sat there for 15 or 20 minutes as the ball dropped. Just as soon as the sun broke the surface of the horizon as if of cue, A whale broke the surface of the water. He was about 30 to 40 feet to our port. Perfectly positioned between us and the sunset. Logan and I slowly turned towards each other silently, and with wide eyes and open mouths..... we then proceeded to flip the f*** out. Could this be a better day!  We high fived, screamed, laughed, and made whale noises. We named our whale Wally, he (she?) followed us for about a half hour as the suns colors faded. I later went to get the camera to get some shots because I thought no one would ever believe us. But I knew the moment would never be captured fully, as it wasn't.  We sat on deck and attempted to communicate  with Wally via whale sounds. Like the ones you hear on these meditation tapes. Wally continued to surface within 25 to 100 feet of the boat, we think the thought Tilikum was one of his own with her big black underbelly. It was the perfect ending to the perfect day.

I will never forget Wally, and I will never forget this day.

The Journey Continues

Hello everyone! I'm back and have a lot to catch up on!

I am writing this blog post about 7 miles north of San Juan, Puerto Rico at 4am waiting for the sun to poke it's head above the horizon. But before I get into our current passage I must update you on what has gone on over the past year.

After arriving in St. Thomas in December last year, I spent the winter there basking in the sun, enjoying the sights, working on a charter sailboat and living on Tilikum. My sailing partner Sam did much of the same and got a great job as a boat captain driving tourists all around the US and British Virgin Islands. After 4 months of living in paradise I flew back home to return to work, which was also very exciting. I had a great summer but missed Tilikum very much. I had left Tilikum in Red Hook Harbour on a brand new mooring that I had installed before I left. I had also arranged to have a friend of mine live on her as a tennant. Choosing to leave Tilikum in the water over the summer where she would be vulnerable to hurricanes and the elements was a tuff choice but after looking at prices for dry storage the decision was made for me.

When I bought the boat from the former owner she said to me that "the boat did not like to be tied up". I took this as mostly a joke and figured that surely with the right mooring and lines that Tilikum would sit nicely in Red Hook Harbour and await my return. This was not the case. Tilikum decided to break free from her mooring and "go for a stroll" not once but twice. The first time she received damage to her stanchions (life line posts for all you land lubbers) when she found herself side by side with my friend Pauls boat. This ended up costing me double in fixing both my boat and his. The second time she navigated her way all the way to the beach before my friend/tennant noticed she was loose. Thankfully no damage that couldn't be fixed took place and Sam had a friend of his with a boat with some horse power to pull her off and put her back on a mooring. But I have learnt my lesson... I will never ever ever store a boat in the water when I'm a full days flight away.

Over the course of this summer a lot of things have changed. Sam got a good job, he is renting a house, and he has a great girlfriend. Needless to say, where we thought we were going be now, last year is totally different. Sam has decided that he is stepping away from the journey and I can't blame him. When we begun this trip we said it was a 3 to 5 year plan. That isn't something that can be considered concrete. Things change over time and I totally understand his position. Sam was a HUGE help in getting Tilikum ready for the next leg of her voyage and I can't thank him enough for that.

That being said the adventure continues and if you get a chuckle or enjoy this blog in any way I hope you donate to the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation to help support a cure. This is a cause that is still near and dear to me. There is a button on this page that links you to the JDRF Web page where you can donate (https://jdrfca.donordrive.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=donate.event&eventID=2159). Thanks in advance!

That leads us to where we are now, 7 miles north of San Juan, PR. I have a new sailing partner. His name is Logan. Logan and I have been friends for a few years and we've been on many sailing day trips together. Logan and I were at a pub in Mahone Bay in November when I was explaining to him my predicament of not yet having to confidence to do long passages solo but still wanting to continue on with the Tilikum to more places to explore. I explained that I was exploring routes that could work for a solo trip. That's when logan mentioned that he was planning on  being in the Bahamas in February on a family vacation and that sailing there sounded like a cool way to get there. So right there on the spot, a general route had been selected and a plan had been made.

Logan and I flew down to st thomas in the second week of January hoping to be leaving on the 20th of January or earlier. When I got back to the boat I realized how huge of a job we were about to take on. For starters, the engine wasn't starting, the stanchoins and life lines were all in need of replacement, we no longer had a tender, the bottom of the boat had a micro eco-system living on it complete with full sized crabs crawling around, the bildge pumps weren't working none of the navigation lights were working, and the house batteries were toast along with a host of other things.

We immediately went to work on her. Priority one, get the engine running.  After many a trip to the marine store the fuel filter housing was replaced, impeller replaced and lines were bled. She fired up blew out some black smoke and then purred like a kitten. Once this was done an appointment for haul out to deal with the micro ecosystem was made. Although I shouldn't call it an appointment. On island, that's not how things work. We were put on a list with no idea what time we would be hauled. With a little charm and a lot of phone calls we managed to get a date. Out on the Thursday and back in on the Monday.  We motored-sailed over to christmas cove, closer to where we would be hauled at Independent Marina. In christmas cove we did a little relaxing, we snorkeled a lot,  ate pizza from the pizza boat which was our new neighbor, and even got a surf day in on the west side of the island at Botney Bay. We got a call on Thursday from the marina, and we found out we were being pushed back to Friday haul out on Tuesday...

After all was said and done we managed to get all of the various jobs done in a mad dash working day and night at the marinas boat yard. We made some friends and managed to get a lot accomplished.

We set sail for Mayaguana on Tuesday.

To be continued.

Against The Wind

Hello all! Here is the post you've all been waiting for! Sorry to all who have been waiting in suspense. Now its time for us to paint another picture in your heads!

Have you ever played that word association game? That one where somebody says a word or phrase and you're supposed to say the first words that come to mind? Well what words come to mind when you hear words like "Atlantic" or "Bermuda Triangle?" Probably something along the lines of "stormy" or "high winds" or "big waves". Our journey from Beaufort, North Carolina to St. Thomas, US Virgin Islands was in fact, quite the opposite.

Before we get to the story, we're here! We have made it to the Virgin Islands! The first leg of our journey, all 2400 miles of it, is complete! It has been one of the most amazing experiences we have ever had and we both can't wait for what is still to come. We want to thank everybody who helped make it possible and your continued support is greatly appreciated. Now, here's how it all went down.

Our course plotting was pretty easy for this trip. We decided on three coordinates that would be our "turning points", veering a little further south each time. This was the general outline to follow for our journey.

After cruising down the Intracoastal Waterway for a week, we were finally ready to hit the open ocean again. We set our date for departure from Beaufort after looking at numerous weather GRIBs and routing sites, and we decided to time our departure on the tail end of a low pressure system, basically lining our trip up in between those systems (storms) that continuously build off of Cape Hatteras. After deciding the date, we plotted the course. It was an interesting task trying to plot a course of this caliber, spanning over 1300 Nautical Miles of vast ocean and unpredictability. We came up with three separate coordinates, or what we referred to as our "turning points." These points were the general outline for us to follow when making our trek south. They weren't just random points we saw on the chart and decided would be a good points to turn at. There was careful thought and input from us, and others. We mainly looked at the wind, seeing where the tradewinds were and trying to predict what the direction was going to be 5 days out... and then a complete guess as to what it would be 10 days out (there are no forecasts that really go this far so essentially you really have to guess). We had to look at weather as well, basically having to follow on the tail end of a system leaving off of Hatteras, and trying to get as far southeast as possible before the next system would take over . It was tricky to assess, but eventually you start to figure out patterns and base your journey around those.

Though the wind was extremely light, it did create some beautiful scenery

Will and I thought we had it figured out, and for the most part we did! We knew that there was going to be this massive high pressure system moving in in between the storms. We saw average wind speeds of 5-10 knots with the occasional 15 and maybe even some 20s. We knew it would be light. That, to Will and I, meant smooth easy sailing, maybe having to turn the motor on every once in a while to charge up the batteries, and then occasionally get some semi-rough weather sailing. Well what happened was this:

This is what the oh so ferocious Atlantic was like. This was the Bermuda Triangle. Dead calm. Not a breath of wind and barely even waves to rock the boat. You could drop a penny in the water and watch the ripples for miles.  Maybe you have always heard about that certain area in the Atlantic that is dead calm with no wind. People call it the doldrums. Have you heard of it? Well, this is not that place. This shouldn't have been this way. We were crossing through one the most notoriously unpredictable spots of ocean in the world and this is what it threw at us.

Will praying to the wind gods. And waiting, just waiting.

The first few days weren't bad. We made good time getting maybe 100 miles a day. Since the sea was so calm, it made motoring straight on our course very easy. When day 4 came along, and the wind still hadn't really picked up, we started to get nervous. We had used up almost half of our diesel from what we could tell and were only a third of the way into the trip. This wasn't good. I even began planning potential back up routes to Dominican or Puerto Rico just in case. Our fuel gauge doesn’t exactly work so we had no idea exactly how much fuel we had or how much longer we could go. We decided to run the tanks dry and count the engine hours so that we knew exactly how far we could go before we refueled the main tank with the diesel tanks we store on deck. Basically, we needed that wind to fill in. After praying to the wind gods they finally threw us a bone. A small bone, but a bone nonetheless. We got a few knots of wind here and there, never from great directions but enough to shut the engine off and actually sail for a bit. The light winds eased our minds slightly allowing us to fully take in the amazing scenery around us.

The days were beautiful. The sun would reflect off the calm waters, revealing a strong, deep shade of blue unlike anything we'd ever seen. The sunrises and sunsets were surreal. Like living in a painting almost. There was one night where there wasn't a cloud in the sky or a ripple in the water with thousands of stars glimmering off of the sky and the water, creating the feeling of being in a giant snow globe. It was incredible and these photos almost couldn't capture the amazing display, but they did a pretty good job.

All in all it was great, but we still needed wind. We tried contacting any boat we saw out there for weather reports, mostly just tankers and freighters. They'd give us a report for the next day or so and we'd make our plan around it, hoping the wind would actually do what they said. The people who answered us on the radio were very nice and accommodating, but you could tell they were all wondering what such a small vessel was doing so far from shore. We talked to one that told us they were going to be in Tortola on the 29th and that they'd buy the first round when we got there! Then one day, with not much breeze and not much swell, our autopilot Jeeves' belt broke. We only had one spare belt with us so we threw it on and just prayed it wouldn't break. We saw the belt rubbing on the wheel while it turned and assumed that was the source of the break. The rotary wheel just needed to be tilted slightly so I went down to get some washers. Looking around though, the first thing I came across was a tooney (Canadian 2 dollar coin) and some quarters. Good enough for me! I brought them up to Will and we wedged them into the wheel. It worked! All in all it took $2.75 to get Jeeves back and running but I guess as far as boat fixes go that's pretty cheap.

Sam exercising his newly acquired cooking skills. Turns out he's not half bad! 

I got the opportunity to hone in in my cooking skills. Definitely had to seize the chance while the water was calm to show Will I could actually cook -things don't get quite so graceful when the seas pick up. Our two hour shopping spree for provisioning before the trip actually panned out pretty well. Our only problem, not enough beer! For some reason we thought a lonely 6 pack would last 12 days. Do the math on that one. As far as food went though, we definitely did not go hungry! Had plenty of stuff to play around with and create so delicious meals, yet sometimes we just found comfort in the good ol' ham and cheese. I will add however, before we left Nova Scotia we were equipped with many jars of various pickled goods, cooked by our great friends Rebecca, Rachel and Mev. So having things like pickled carrots and awesome sweet onion chutney definitely spiced up the sandwiches.  

Finally, after 9 days of little to no wind, the gods answered our prayers. And boy did we get what we asked for! The waves grew to 12-15 feet and the winds increased to over 20 knots with squalls hitting closer to 40-50 knots!

For the most part, the first week was completely dead calm. We got the occasional 5-10 knots, slowly pushing us along, but never in a great direction. By the second week we started to get a little more breeze. Day 9 is where it hit. The seas rose first. Wave heights quickly went from 1-3 feet to 10-15. Then the wind came. It was East South East picking up to a consistent 20 knots gusting 25-30. Sleeping became very hard below deck. The constant creaking and groaning of the boat. Wind whipping the halyards and stays. Waves smacking against the hull making a sound like hitting a rock. Eating became sporadic so we grew very tired, still trying to keep our heads high because we got what we asked for. Then Jeeves' belt broke again. The last belt we had, snapped right in half. The MacGyver instincts kicked in and we instantly started creating makeshift belts from the old broken ones we had. Some worked, some didn't. But with the right combination of zipties, paracord and electric tape we hobbled enough belts together to make it to St. Thomas. Mother nature definitely kicked our butts out there, giving us the old "ask and you shall receive" attitude, but we held our own!

When a squall hit, it was quite hard to keep your eyes open with the sideways rain hitting you in the face at 30 knots!

Jeeves, our trusty autopilot, was on his last legs by the end of the journey. Here you seem him held together with zip ties, electric tape, and para cord. To keep him positioned in the right spot, we had to use a tooney and some quarters as our spacers.

For the last few hundred miles, we were exhausted. We hadn't slept much. We hadn't really eaten anything. We were ready to hit land. The constant breeze kept us on a southeast heading pointing us straight towards the Virgin Passage, the area in between St. Thomas and Culebra. We started to see the glow of the islands on our 11th night at sea and got extremely excited. "We're so close!" We kept saying to ourselves. Like good cruising fashion though, it's never over until you drop the anchor and the sea gave us one more test before we were "allowed" to enter the islands.

Day 10. The delirium has fully set in. No longer were Will and I speaking to each other. Instead just making noises and using gibberish as our main dialect. Immersion back into society will be interesting.

Our last test was an interesting one. For those of you who have ever cruised through the Virgin Passage you might know exactly what we're talking about. That spot between the Spanish and US Virgin Islands is one of the main shipping channels for some of the largest boats in the world, cruise ships. Those lights we saw earlier that night, the ones we thought were from the islands themselves, were actually a large number of cruise ships. We dipped, dived and dodged our way through the passage coming what seemed extremely close to a lot of the ships. At night, when you're sleep and food deprived, boats that are 3 miles away look like they are right on top of you. Scary stuff for the end of our journey but we beat that test!

The journey from beginning to end. Morehead City, North Carolina to St. Thomas, US Virgin Islands totaling 1305 Nautical Miles in 12 days.

We cruised past Charlotte Amalie with the lights illuminating the water in front of us, and then across the South side of the Island towards the East end. As the sky began to get brighter we approached Current Cut where we motored through and around into Red Hook Harbour. The entire 12 days at sea Will and I envisioned our arrival in Red Hook under that hot Caribbean sun! When we finally got there though, it was pouring down rain and we were in the middle of a squall. We dropped the hook anyway, pumped up the inflatable and motored ashore right through the nastiness! 

We sailed upwind the entire way from Nova Scotia to St. Thomas! It was a long ride but despite all the trials and tribulations, it was an amazing journey and Will and I would both do it over in a second if we had the chance! Maybe just not right away…

Our home for now until the next leg. Great to be back in the VI!

Now that we are in the Virgin Islands we may not be updating you as regularly as before. We are settling in nicely and already planning the next leg of our journey through the Panama Canal and across the Pacific. Our plan is to be here until next Fall. Will has to go back to Nova Scotia this summer for work and I will remain here with the boat through the hurricane season. We will still be posting so don't forget to check in on us every once in a while to see what we're up to around here! This is an awesome place and there will surely be some great tales to tell.

More Tales From The Swamp

Sorry everybody but we didn't have enough signal to add photos! We're off on our journey south leaving Beaufort! No contact for a while but will post photos once we reach safe harbor!

Here's what happened the past week while you were waiting!

After a brief one-night stay in Elizabeth City, we headed on out into Albemarle Sound in the direction of a little island called Colington on the Outer Banks. It was a solid day's motor where we rolled the jib out for a bit, but couldn't completely sail because there wasn't much wind. We arrived close to the island around 4 PM as the sun started to go down, but the journey wasn't over quite yet. There was serious shoaling all around the island that every single one of our charts (4 separate ones) had in a different place. This presented us with two options. We could 1) Just slowly nudge our way in towards the channel of the harbor where it looked like we could make it, and then if we ran aground, just back off and try another angle. Or 2) We could go all the way around the shoal, which meant heading south for another two hours and then having to come back up north for another hour. Of course we went with option 1: just go for it. We slowly made our way in towards the channel, seeing barely any water underneath our keel, but never touching ground. It was perfect! Right up until the channel that is...

After crossing this massive sandy shoal, the one place our boat decided to run aground was right in the entrance of the channel. Turns out the shifting sands of the Outer Banks hadn't left a clear entry for us in the marked channel, which we assumed was dredged. Never assume, ladies and gentlemen! We had to give the channel 4-5 tries, running aground each time, before we found a thin little channel on the outside of the marker buoys. We made it into the very calm peaceful waters of Colington Harbor where they allowed us to anchor right off of the yacht club and bring our dinghy into the dock. We stayed there for a night and the next morning went out and hit up the staple spots one must see and do while in OBX. We went to this place for breakfast, the motto of which was simply "biscuits and porn."  It is a gas station that is famous for delicious breakfast sandwiches, and like any gas station, their selection of adult magazines. Nonetheless, great food. After that we went to the Wright Brothers Memorial and climbed all the way to the top to see where they actually launched the first plane. It was a rather cloudy day but once we reached the top it seemed to clear up and we could see the ocean around us!

We then headed back to the boat to head out while it was still high tide, as to ensure that we wouldn't run aground this time. And of course, after running aground 4 more times, we finally found that little channel and made our way out towards Alligator River.

As night fell, we made it all the way past the Alligator River Bridge, right to the entrance of the small canal that headed through the swamp again. We dropped the hook for the night and cooked up a fantastic meal of deer and potatoes that our good friend Wiley had given us before we left Colington. I had never had deer before but I cooked that up something nice, if I do say so myself! Even had some leftovers that I threw in omelets in the morning.

We cruised down the Alligator River keeping a keen eye out for alligators, but no luck! We ended up stopping at the R.E. Mayo docks, an old shrimp boat dock and seafood company that lets transient boats tie up for very cheap. We ended up even getting a few pounds of fresh jumbo shrimp and scallops for practically nothing!

The next day we headed out early in the morning and out into more open water, allowing us to roll the jib out. The local fishermen definitely looked surprised to see a sailboat actually sailing the narrow channels as we dodged their various boats and crab traps. It took most of daylight for us to get into Morehead City, NC, where we found a nice anchorage right off of the main street downtown. We went into town in search of bacon (to cook up with those scallops of course!) and then right back to the boat for the feast!

The next night we decided to go into a place called Portside Marina in Morehead to refill our water tanks, diesel and give the batteries a full charge. It was a very nice marina, run by and older couple who just gave off that awesome southern hospitality charm. After filling the water tanks, though, we found out that our tank up in the v-berth was leaking something fierce, all of which was draining right out of our bilge. This meant Will had to do one of his favorite projects and go and hang upside in the v-berth hatch for a few hours while making the repair. Although he didn't enjoy it, he did it! We sealed it all up and filled the tank again with no leaks this time around. We spent the rest of the day wandering around town looking for a somewhat close grocery store, although there was none. so we headed back to the boat to cook up some supper.

As the sun went down on the horizon we could see a crowd gathering right on the dock outside our boat. Could this be our entourage of reporters coming to ask about our voyage to come? Nope. Just everybody gathering for the annual Christmas Parade. This wasn't your average Christmas parade like they have in NYC with huge floats and giant balloons. This one took place on the water. With boats. And lots of Christmas lights and music. It was awesome! Something the whole town seemed to come out and gather for. Perfect timing for Will and me.

We took it easy the next morning, doing things like our laundry, taking showers, checking the weather, and then cast off the dock because of our 11 AM checkout time. Instead of heading back to our anchorage, we opted for the change in scenery and decided to head over to the town of Beaufort, NC. Right across the river.

At this point we had decided we were going to leave Tuesday. After looking at all kinds of weather charts and plotting programs, this is where our weather window seemed to line up best. We took Monday to take a cab ride to the local library so Will could get some work done and so we could have a solid Wi-Fi connection to plot our full course. After that we walked over to the grocery store, which was a little ways down the street, which had the fantastic name of Piggly Wiggly Grocery. We spent about two hours and two hundred bucks and have enough food for a small army. Of course it was dumping rain the entire ride back so by the time the groceries got back to the boat everything was pretty soaked and we were pretty beat. We threw everything in plastic bags, stowed it, threw a movie on, then fell asleep.

Donate Now

Hey Everybody!
Check out our new "Donate Now" tab at the top of the page! If you click on this you will be redirected to our Team JDRF personal fundraising page where you can donate, and keep track of how much money we raise for T1D research! Please donate to a great cause! This page will eventually fully replace our GoFundMe page but for now if you would like to donate to JDRF, you can do it directly through the donate now tab. If you would like to donate and help us out on our adventure, you can donate to the GoFundMe!

Thank you all!

Diabetes Daily

Sam Fifer grew up in a little town in west Connecticut–nowhere near the ocean–but he spent his summers in Nova Scotia where his friend Will Daniels was born and raised. The pair has been sailing “practically since we started walking” and have been in love with the sport since day one.

During one of his summers in Novo Scotia, Sam was diagnosed with type 1 diabetes at age 11, but it has never interfered with his love for the water.

After finishing college, Sam and Will focused all of their energy on being out on the water, working on various boats, as sailor instructors in the Virgin Islands and in other bodies of waters: Will worked in “river restoration” in Novo Scotia.

“This summer, I moved back to Nova Scotia where we both lived in Mahone Bay on our boat, a 1982 C&C 32 named Tilikum,” explains Sam. “We’ve always had dreams of long distance sailing. We sat many nights in the garage talking about various islands we wished to visit, routes we wanted to take, and things we desired to see. We read all of the tales of great adventurers like Joshua Slocum, Francis Chichester, Robin Lee Graham, and their sailing escapades. These stories are what has inspired us to undertake this voyage, you only live once right? There’s no time like the present.”

Today, Sam and Will are raising funds through GoFundMe to sail around the globe, journaling their adventures at Sailing for Type 1 Diabetes.

In this interview, Sam talks about juggling type 1 diabetes as he sails his way around the globe!

•••

Tell me a your “diagnosis story”…how old were you? Were you terrified? How did your diagnosis impact your goals as an athletic person? 

Sam: When I was 11 years old my family and I took a vacation for Thanksgiving up to Nova Scotia Canada for a week or so. Along the 19 hour drive up is where I began to feel somewhat “off.” I kept having to tell my dad to stop the car because I had to pee every few hours or so, which seemed semi-normal to all of us at the time. And also I kept drinking lots of water (like two cases of 24 bottles in a day).

We figured these two things were just related to each other at the time because I didn’t really show any other signs of being sick. We got up to Nova Scotia and things started to get interesting. I no longer could drink the regular tap water from our sink because I complained of it tasting almost soapy. This resulted in us having to buy one of those purified water towers that you have to buy water from the store to fill.

This was fine for a while, but then it got worse. I started to feel very cramped in all of my joints, making moving a little harder and still kept drinking and peeing all the time (like every hour). This is when we finally decided it was time to go home because something was indeed wrong.

The trip back was brutal. I turned a ghostly pale white/grey in color, could barely move, still drinking and having to pee every 20-30 minutes and feeling very nauseous and throwing up a bunch of times. I couldn’t eat, could barely even stay awake as we made our way back Connecticut where my parents immediately took me to our doctor.
They couldn’t figure out what it was at first because there was no history of diabetes in my family so they almost ruled that out right away. After testing my blood sugar at the doctors office, the doctor said my parents needed to take me to the hospital immediately. We went to the nearby hospital where I was immediately brought into the ER and hooked up to IV’s and given insulin.

Apparently my blood sugar was in the high 1300s and I was about a day away from a coma. Scary stuff! I was terrified and confused. As an 11 year old I had no idea what was going on and had never even heard of diabetes. At the time, I didn’t realize what I had, and how this was no a life long disease I had to deal with.

I was in the hospital for a week and missed a bunch of school. Finally I went back to school and noticed everybody treating my a little different. Like I had just been given cancer or something. Every teacher was constantly asking if I felt okay and making sure I ate properly and such, but I still didn’t really know what I was dealing with. I went back to the hospital a few times for more training on giving myself shots and testing my blood and regulating food intake and such and that’s where I finally realized a little what I had.

I rejected the fact that I was a diabetic, of course as I went into those rebellious teenage years and my parents tried to help me so much, but I didn’t want to believe that I had this crutch. I didn’t stop doing sports at school or really change my lifestyle at all because I didn’t want to show my friends that I was different.

I hated being a diabetic. I still hate it, but over the past few years I’ve grown up both mentally and physically. I know fully understand that this disease isn’t going anywhere and I have to man up and deal with it. I wish I could have realized this years ago of course and not scolded my parents for only trying to help keep me alive and rejected anybody who tried to help me, but I guess that’s just the way it went down.

Now I have purpose though. I got tired of hearing from doctors “oh, there’ll be a cure in five years,” “five years,” “five years.” That’s all I kept hearing. Now I’ve decided to try and help make a difference in the best way that I can. I’ve gotten my A1C down significantly and am generally feeling a whole lot healthier and that I have a little more control on this. I still have a ways to go but I’m keeping my head up, and now taking any help I can get!

In a nutshell: can you describe your sailing expedition? What are you hoping to accomplish?

Sam: Our expedition has three goals. The first goal is sail around the world!

The two other goals we’ve set while we do this adventure are raise as much awareness and as many funds as we can to let people know a few things. This disease exists and to be fully honest, sucks, but you can’t let it get in the way of your life.

Life is possible, even as a diabetic. We fly a JDRF flag in every port we cruise into which catches people eye and they come up and talk to us. Through our story is how we’re spreading awareness and through our blog and website is how we are raising funds. We plan on taking the next 3-5 years to complete this venture and breaking it off into sections. My friend and I are at the point where we don’t have many ties in our lives right now so we figure we might as well take our time and enjoy it!

What are the biggest or perhaps scariest challenges when it comes to sailing with type 1 diabetes?

Sam: The challenges for sailing with Type 1 are similar to the everyday challenges everybody on land has to deal with, only we don’t have constant access to a pharmacy or a store. I’ve had to battle with insurance companies trying to override my prescriptions that I can basically stock up on all of my supplies for months. I’ve had to make sure I essentially have 1-2 things of instant sugar a day in case I go low.

I have 20 vials of insulin all kept in our boat refrigerator that we had to enhance to ensure it will always be cold. I have 8 months supply of pump supplies all kept in a lock tight, dry container because things tend to get a little wet on a boat—haha! It is rather daunting though. I ask myself every day what might happen if I run out of supplies or sugar while I’m out at sea. The key though, is preparation. Prepare for the worst and you can only go up from there. There is no such thing as over preparation when it come to this stuff, and for that reason, our boat is sitting a little low in the water with how much supplies we have on board.

What is one of the scariest or most challenging moments you’ve personally experienced on the open water as a person with type 1 diabetes?

Sam: My number one scariest challenge I hope to never have to deal with though, is if we have to bail on the boat. If our boat sinks on us, we will have to go to our life raft. We have what is referred to as a ditch bag that has everything essential to bring with us if the boat sinks, even supplies and insulin. My fear though is say we are at sea and don’t get rescued for longer than a week?

Say we have “Castaway” situation, then what happens then? You try not to think about that stuff, as hard as it might be, and all you do is prepare for it. If you dwell on things like that, then you’d never even leave homeport!

I haven’t had any scary moment yet, but something is bound to happen at some point. My sailing partner is educated in what to do if bad things happen and I trust him with my life!

The hardest part about this journey I would say, is just starting it. It took a lot of courage to just go out and do it, but that’s what I’m here to show people. It is possible. Life is possible! Don’t let diabetes get you down.

Best of luck to you!!! Safe sailing!

Photos courtesy of TeamTilikum!

Dismal Swamp Diaries

Hello all! We have arrived here in Moorehead City, NC yesterday evening. We have had terrible/no wifi connection while traveling through the swamps so we are a little behind on our blogging. Here is an update up to Elizabeth City. We will update you with the rest very soon!

Portsmouth was a fun time! We stayed at a free wharf for 2 nights where the glow from our very own 50ft tall Christmas tree illuminated the boat the whole night. It's really bizarre for me to see Christmas trees, lights, and decorations going up as we travel South while the weather warms up all around us. Feels a little more like Easter than Christmas.

We managed to get some work done on the boat while we were here. We rewired the running lights for the 2nd/3rd time. We gave Tilikum a little bath, replaced the fuel filter and the fuel strainer, and we even topped off the engine oil. While exploring Portsmouth, we also managed to find a dinner-theater where you can sit at a table inside of a giant theater and order dinner and drinks while a movie is played. Sam and I arrived in our finest sailing attire consisting of diesel soaked shorts, long sleeved shirts with plenty of holes, flannel vests, ball caps and Nikes. Turns out this place was a little higher class than we thought and we caught a few looks. Nonetheless, dinner was cheap and the movie was good. Successful "bro date".

The next morning we took off, leaving Portsmouth in our wake and headed for Mile 0 of the Inner Coastal Waterway. We were motoring along through the highly restricted US NAVY base area near the beginning of the ICW in Norfolk, VA, bringing back that nervous feeling while looking up at all battleships and aircraft carriers towering over us and seeing the NAVY Police boats wizzing by with their machine guns. Then, Murphy's Law came back for another visit. We were thinking to ourselves, "wow, this would be a terrible place to break down." In fact, I think we even said it. Sure enough right at that moment, our trusty ol Yanmar diesel we've come to name Barnsworth, or Barney, decided to quit on us. He sputtered a bit, revved down and up a few times, and then spit out so much white smoke that it felt like we were back in the fog that Nova Scotia is so famous for. We immediately killed the engine and waited for the fog to dissipate. Then came the realization again.  We're right in the middle of the channel, broken down, drifting towards one of the "restricted" areas that completely surrounded us. YAY! Luckily there wasn't any wind so we drifted up the channel a bit while I was down in the engine compartment figuring things out. As I was down there Sam was up top on watch. And of course, without waiting very long, a US Navy Police boat with 2 massive machine guns mounted on the deck came barreling down on us. They flew up to us, circled around, and then pulled up aside. Two guys about our age were operating the vessel and they popped out of the cabin and asked us what we were doing. Like we'd be casually hanging around a restricted area, but hey they were just doing their jobs. We explained to them how our engine quit on us and were trying to fire it back up. They gave us the whole, "Well this is restricted waters" and "you can't be here." They told us to move and we had to reasonably explain to them again how our engine wouldn't start. Finally, we managed to negotiate our way into firing up the engine really quick and scooting over to an area to drop the hook so we didn't impede traffic while they stood watch. I quickly figured that I probably overfilled the oil pan when we topped it off in Portsmouth leading to some oil overflow burning up in the chambers (hence the white smoke). I pumped out some of the oil which took about 20 minutes and re-checked the levels. Seemed all good! We fired it back up and bid farewell to our heavily armed friends on our way to our first draw bridge!

We arrived at the first drawbridge which was a double. Meaning it had a low train bridge and then a higher car bridge right next to each other. The train bridge raises when there are no trains, but the car bridge goes every hour. We were there at about 8:20 so the car bridge was down, but the train one was open. So we decided to go for it. We eased up to the bridge at speeds approaching a snails pace. Looking skyward praying that we would fit. We didn't... We bounced off the bridge with a dull thud ringing through the metal beams as cars zoomed by overhead. We were too tall by about a foot. Fail.. We backed up and waited patiently for the bridge to open at 9 and then headed through on our way to the Dismal Swamp!

For those of you who may not know what the Inner Coastal Waterway is or what most refer to as "the ditch", it's basically a series of canals that vary in width and depth. For the most part, it's pretty shallow and pretty thin. This waterway goes the whole way from New Jersey to Florida. It's a very common route for boaters headed South when you don't want to take the offshore route. If I had to describe what traveling through the canal is like, I would say its a lot like playing that game Minesweeper, except the mines are submerged logs and there are almost no clues for where they are located. So as your traveling along the canal often, especially with a 6 foot draft, you'll feel thuds on the keel the reverberate throughout the whole boat and your body.

But, it turns out the Dismal Swamp isn't so dismal. We saw the name on our charts and figured it would be dark, filthy, and the type of place that would be perfect for the setting of a bad horror movie. In reality, it was a beautiful river that had brightly colored trees forming a tunnel through the woods. Houses, roadways and walking trails followed it in tandem for most of the way. All in all, it was a really great way to be crossing state lines.

We hit our first lock and drawbridge on the canal and met some of our fellow cruisers who are also headed South for the winter. One thing we have come to realize is that we are basically the "babies" of the ICW cruising world. You don't really see (at least so far) anyone out here that is younger than 40. So we've been mostly making friends that are from a generation or two ahead of us. Despite our young age though, our sailing experience and abilities are as good or better than a lot of people out here. We have met a lot of newbies to the water while traveling along the canals. We actually met one guy that bought a sailboat one week before he took off on the ICW headed south. Awsome! We haven't met anyone that has come as far as us this late in the season though.

We motored along the canal until it began to get dark when we pulled into a river that joined in with the Dismal Swamp Canal. We drove up this small swampy river for a few hundred yards and wedged our 6 foot keel into the soft mud which held us in place (so much for that slick bottom job). Even though there was no wind, current or tide, we dropped our anchor just for good measure. As the sun set we fully took in how weird it felt that our 32 foot ocean going sailboat was sitting in a swamp 15 feet from shore on either side. There were all kinds of noises coming from the swamp like hundreds of little swamp creatures moving around all night and who knows what else. That night the crickets were almost deafening!  We made some dinner, hung out in the pitch black cockpit trying to spot light some gators (no luck yet). Then we went to bed as it began to pour buckets of outside. Our first actual drop of rain since we left Nova Scotia.

We woke up the next day and motored into Elizabeth City which was about 2 hours away. We approached the Elizabeth City Bridge where a really cranky bridge operator grudgingly allowed us and the 3 other boats we were then traveling with through. We tied up to the free slips that Elizabeth City offers and stepped ashore to meet some more fellow cruisers that were also tied up there.