‘We got battered by a storm that wasn’t forecast’

When David and Sarah Smith decided to take on their first proper ocean passage, they didn’t anticipate storm Oscar, but survived unscathed and relished the experience

Although we had managed a brief visit to St Kilda, the Scottish weather during 2022 had not been great, so my wife Sarah and I pondered going somewhere warm. I had a longing for a true ocean passage and a friend suggested the Azores; after a little preliminary research we decided to give it a go.

I made enquiries about the 2023 AZAB race, but it rapidly became clear that our Mollymawk, a 1984 Pan Oceanic 38, would need to go through an onerous process of certification in order to take part. My confidence lay in Mollymawk’s three previous transatlantic crossings with former owners. In addition, I wanted to do this passage on my own terms, having been much inspired by Christian Williams’ book, Philosophy of Sailing.

Mollymawk was designed for bluewater cruising and although cutter rigged, her extra baby stay that can be rigged behind the furling genoa allows greater flexibility of sail plan. She is well equipped, but in preparation for this passage I brought forward fitting new standing rigging by a year as she was almost up to the 10 years or 10,000 miles mark, and made some other significant additions. I upgraded the liferaft to an Ocean Safety Ocean ISO, had a new staysail made and a fourth reef put in the main, and purchased a Jordan Series Drogue from Oceanbrake.

Before we departed, we shipped a suitable range of medical supplies, hired an Iridium Satphone and fitted an external aerial; fitted and taped the storm screens to the pilothouse glass; and reinstated the engine chains.

Setting off

Sarah and I are joined by our old friend Jim who is keen to extend his sailing experience and by 2000 on Saturday 27 May we have most of the food stowed and I feel that we can depart. Sarah is concerned about a 30-knot blow forecast for Monday, but we have seen worse than that before and we don’t know how long the favourable easterlies may last.

Friends wave us off as we slip our Salcombe mooring and are soon outside Bolt Head. A waypoint just west of São Miguel gives 1,221 miles at 242°M (though this steadily diminishes because our GPS has calculated a great circle route). We set the Hydrovane and head out into the twilight.

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The following day, a somewhat reluctant wind starts to increase and by 2300 we are surfing down waves in the moonlight. By 0400 the sea has turned white and we get the main down; by 0800 some gusts are up to 45 knots apparent and I’m worried about the staysail holding, so we rig the trysail to its mast track and drop the staysail. Immediately Mollymawk feels more comfortable and under control and it seems a better day all round. The Hydrovane is coping well, though I lash the wheel to stop cross-waves overcoming Mollymawk’s rudder friction lock.

I am increasingly aware that a successful return to and recovery of a MOB is unlikely, which is why we clip on all the time whatever the conditions before we leave the safety of the pilothouse, and I have high-level central safety lines on Mollymawk for going forward.

The blow eases in time, leaving behind a 3 to 4m sea, and we gradually put out more sail. First the staysail, which we then goosewing with a reefed genoa. Mollymawk doesn’t like too much sail, but with enough to make 5-6 knots she feels happy and bowls along comfortably for the next few days.

Despite the blow on day two, I cannot believe our luck with the steady easterlies/northeasterlies varying between 10 and 20 knots. We are making good progress so I reduce sail at night if there is any suggestion that the wind is increasing. There is no hurry and this makes the sailing stress-free and enjoyable.

Taking it easy

On day six we are halfway and celebrate with bacon butties for breakfast, but then the wind begins to fade and soon the trusty Beta 50 takes over. The sea flattens, making it easier to spot whales and we are rewarded with a couple of sightings, including a humpback.

With the sun now out and smoother conditions, I check our position with a series of sextant sightings; my fix seems close enough to continue trusting the GPS, so all is well.

Our Iridium Satphone acts as a wireless hub and two different phone apps give access to the promised features. The Iridium Mail app allows us to send emails and provides a limited weather service. However, the Iridium Go app decides that it won’t accept any more than the five ‘high priority’ users apparently logged in already. The company supplying the Satphone email to suggest a full factory reset as a fix but we’re not so sure and press on with what we have. Although we improve the working of our Satphone for the return passage, it never gives a reliable service.

On day eight the sea calms to oily smooth so it is shorts and T-shirts in the sun and lots of dolphins about. This feels more like it, despite our latest forecast giving 30 knots with gust symbols in a day or so.

‘That shouldn’t be too much of a worry,’ I say, having as yet to fully appreciate that the forecasts given are for our exact location; they are not regional and definitely not for where we will be tomorrow. The sun sets amidst wonderful reflections and in the final moments, we see the legendary green flash. So it is real!

Getting serious

The wind returns from the south-east and by the early hours we are sailing again.

By that evening, however, it is well over 25 knots. Anticipating a gusty 30 knots, we swap the reefed main for the trysail as it is already rigged and simpler than the fourth reef. I’m back on my usual watch at midnight. My notes in the log state:

‘On track, no ships, bit of a wild ride. OK except waves breaking across us.’

By 0500 the wind is going over 40 knots and it is raining. After that the log gets a bit patchy, but at 0914 it reminds me that we had no sails up and that we were making 7 knots. It doesn’t say that the Hydrovane is losing the wind in the troughs and therefore control, so I am helming, surfing down great waves and wondering what to do next. Mollymawk is superb in rough conditions, but she needs to be helmed. The Garmin autohelm struggles in a following sea at the best of times and some of the violent wrenches by waves coming across might take out the fuse, so I don’t bother.

The hardest part is making the decision to deploy the drogue as I’ve never done this before. With Jim at the helm, I rig the bridle. Each side is doubled 16mm 3-strand line, cow-hitched to the drogue and, against advice, the spliced eye at each end looped separately over Mollymawk’s paired stern cleats to distribute the load; Oceanbrake emphasise the forces involved and recommend special chain plates.

I do not fear for Mollymawk’s construction, but I add a backup bridle just in case of abrasion. I deploy the drogue by securing the 12kg weight outside the cockpit coaming with a thin cord then put out first the bridle, then the leader, then the cones over the side. The drogue floats on the surface in a large curve behind without biting too hard, then I heave the weight as far as I can.

The effect is as sudden as if a giant’s hand has taken hold and, amidst the breaking waves and howling wind, we are suddenly down to 2 knots with a calm motion and under control.

The bridle lines are bar-tight and I try not to think about them. I secure the Hydrovane and the wheel and go below. There is nothing else to do!

The Jordan Series Drogue is a remarkable invention and ours, with its 132 cones, is holding back a good 12 tonnes of yacht looking down some serious waves while we watch the wind speed rising over 50 knots across the deck for sustained periods. By 2000 the wind has subsided significantly, the bridle lines are becoming slack in the troughs and we need a bit more forward speed to be comfortable, so we begin the epic task of recovering the drogue using the mast winch and a messenger line to prusik loops on the drogue.

Eventually it is done, and we start making way under the trysail but the wind backs and gets up again and in the early hours we are again under bare poles until mid-morning when we risk the small storm jib, then the main with four reefs as the wind subsides. Meanwhile, the sea has not let up and feels like it’s coming from several directions. A note in the log at 1900 simply states: ‘All rather battered.’

After midnight the north-west wind and sea are making it hard to hold our track and with land now only 35 miles away, I use the engine to motor-sail. It is a rollercoaster of a ride but the sky clears to reveal a bright moon and at 0800 we are off the west end of São Miguel with a welcoming party of Atlantic spotted dolphins. We turn to follow the south coast and enjoy a gentle downwind sail to Ponta Delgarda where I reverse Mollymawk into a marina berth.

Entry formalities take place within a single building and are dealt with quickly, efficiently and with good humour. We then walk to the nearest bar and celebrate our safe arrival.

We covered 1,241 miles in 11.5 days. Mollymawk suffered no damage of consequence from storm Oscar. The drogue bridle fouled the Hydrovane causing it to twist, and a pin was bent, while a few cones on the drogue were damaged, possibly during its recovery.

Jim had to return home shortly after we arrived, then the wind came westerly and prevented us from exploring the other islands and so, when a suitable weather window opened, Sarah and I sailed Mollymawk home. We benefitted from making use of Predict Wind’s weather routing software to make this decision, but this then stopped working halfway home. There being only the two of us made for a different challenge, but it was a relatively uneventful passage, with many more whale sightings.

Lessons learned

Jordan series drogue – The Jordan Series drogue is must-have equipment for offshore sailing, but the recovery needed more thought. It would have been quicker using a longer messenger line round a pulley at the bows. There is talk of using the engine in reverse, or turning through 180°, but I’m unconvinced. We had the problem of the drogue twisting, causing the bridle to wind up, possibly caused by the chain I used as a weight. I have now attached the chain with a swivel.

Satphone fail – We were very disappointed by our Iridium Satphone. It proved to be temperamental and we should have rented it at least a week earlier, despite the cost, so that we could have spent more time on shore getting experience of using it and finding out exactly what it would and wouldn’t do.

The right yacht – Even with better weather forecasting, we would probably not have escaped storm Oscar. You need to have total confidence in your yacht. Mollymawk’s design – heavy, long keeled, canoe stern, a well-protected cockpit, plenty of deck space forward – provides that confidence.

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