Squalls, Eclipses, Birds and Rockets…Just another Trip Across the Gulf Stream

We left Hope Town at high tide on Wednesday, March 12, more than a month after we first pulled into this magical place. It was bittersweet to leave. Knowing we were on our way back to our favorite island certainly helped. As the Elbow Cay Lighthouse grew smaller off our stern, Mackinac Island seemed a very long way away.

All morning, we debated whether to attempt the Whale passage that day or the next. The wind had been blowing pretty strongly for the past few days, but it had died overnight. My Waterway Guidebook warned us not to attempt the Whale if there are any white caps. Seasoned sailors ahead of us on a similar boat told us they were going for it. As we approached the Whale, we could see some white caps, but only in certain areas. We decided there is only one way to know, so we tentatively sent it.  

Things were going ok at the start. As we entered slightly more exposed waters, the waves began to build and the white caps didn’t get any closer. As we fully left the protected waters, a mayday call went out on channel 16. A couple of islands over, a sailing catamaran had just run aground on a reef. They were taking on water. The waves continued to build as the high-stakes rescue played out on the radio. It was very unnerving. After slamming through another set of 8-foot waves, we decided to turn around. Lucas timed our turn well in between the wave sets and we headed back to calmer water. Lesson learned: always listen to the Waterway Guide. 

Adrenaline pumping from our failed attempt at the Whale, we found the closest anchorage and settled in for the night. We were joined in the evening by our friends Dan, Jackie and Lenny on SV Winona. They arrived in the Bahamas from Florida a few days prior and happened to be in the same area. It was so fun to cross paths with them again! We had a fun dinner onboard Alaya and parted ways for Lenny and our bedtimes.  

We woke up early the next morning and hauled up our anchor for the last time in Bahamian water. I know I’ve said it so many times, but this water is unreal. This whole experience is going to make anchoring in the muddy waters of the ICW pretty depressing. We headed east once again towards Whale Cut and were rewarded with much calmer water. This time, we made it through without any drama. Back on our favorite bank, we set the sails and autopilot for our next waypoint – Great Sale Cay, approximately 60 nautical miles away.

It was a beautiful day on the bank. For most of the journey, we were completely alone, not another boat in view. We reached the edge of the bank as the sun set. We were able to sail a bit of the trip but it was mostly another motor. We used the last of our produce to make lunch aboard (we can’t import Bahamian produce or dairy into the US) and tried to rest up for our overnight journey across the Gulf Stream. That’s right, we were planning another trip across one of nature’s most powerful forces at night. 

As we left the bank and approached the Gulf Stream, the sea state started to build, as expected. The feeling of pointing your boat into the middle of the ocean without another light in sight is indescribable. I can’t think too hard about the whole concept while we’re doing it, or I freak myself out. We knew there were a couple other sailboats heading the same direction but we couldn’t see them yet. It was at least a little reassuring (to us and our moms) to know we weren’t completely alone. 

The next twelve hours were a rollercoaster. Lucas is very diligent about checking weather apps while we are sailing and our Starlink allows us to be connected to the internet even when in the middle of the ocean. Lucas’ diligence paid off again when he discovered some unforecasted squalls on the radar. The Gulf Stream’s warm water are ideal conditions for pop-up squalls. It was too dark to see the clouds coming our way. Using our VHF radio, he quickly notified the nearby sailboats. One of these boats had its own radar onboard but no internet connection. The other boat had no technology. Over the next six hours, Lucas and the other captains worked together to dodge the worst of the storms. Oh and there was also a partial lunar eclipse going on that night.

I’m constantly in awe of Lucas’ ability to work through challenges like this with curiosity, creativity and grace. It was a very cool example of the sailing community coming together. We’ve never met those other sailors but we were all friends that night.

By 6 a.m., we had officially dodged the squalls, and Lucas’ adrenaline was fully drained. He headed down below to sleep. I took over the helm in the early hours of the morning. By this time, we were mostly out of the Gulf Stream, but the wind had died. While Lucas tossed and turned, I motored us towards Cape Canaveral. On a positive note, the squalls from the night before made for a stunning sunrise. 

Lucas managed a little bit of sleep and joined me in the cockpit as we officially entered US waters. We knew we were getting closer to land because we started seeing other boats and sea birds. Suddenly, a little land bird appeared on the foredeck. This little guy was a long way from home. He stuck around for a while, and we put out some fresh water and tortilla chips to help prepare him for his long journey home. All was fine until he decided to make a quick trip down below to check out the cabin. Luckily, no poop got on my cushions. 

We continued to motor up the coast on a nearly flat sea. Our destination was still hours away, so we rotated napping shifts and ate the last of our goulash. We pulled into the Cape Canaveral inlet at 5:50 p.m., passing by cruise ships as we entered the busy harbor. It was surreal to be back in Florida. I was already missing every part of the Bahamas.

We made our official landfall at Port Canaveral Yacht Club at 6:36 p.m., 36 hours after we had hauled up the anchor in Guana Cay. Exhausted but happy, I checked us into the country using the US customs app. We both were ready to collapse into our cozy boat bed, but there was one more task for the day – a rocket launch! Throughout our crossing, Lucas had also been constantly checking SpaceFlightNow.com to see if the March 14 Crew-10 rocket launch was a go. Crew-10 was sending four astronauts to the International Space Station. Even better, the booster was landing back at the launch pad. From past experiences, we knew that being close enough to hear the sonic boom of the booster returning would be the cherry on top. As we docked, the launch was still a go. We kept our eyes open long enough to watch the 7 p.m. launch right from Alaya’s deck. 

And just like that our six weeks in the Bahamas were over. I’m really proud of how far we physically traveled and our attitudes throughout the trip. We made new friends, saw some amazing places and even learned a few new skills. Oh, and my sunburn had finally stopped hurting!

Now, all we have to do is travel another 800 miles to Deltaville…