Switching from ice mode to storm mode
September 2 in the United States ⋅ 🌬 1 °C
We arrived in Elson Bay on Sunday and it seems we will be hunkering down here until Thursday afternoon. Time to recollect, fill the sleep tanks and reconfigure minds and boat from ice to storm mode. Summer is coming to an end and the time we can safely navigate the Bering Strait is limited. The more time we spend here, the higher the probability of running into autumn storms. And they can be outrageous. 50-knot winds and 15-meter waves are part of the repertoire. To be avoided! On the positive side we will be in ice free waters after the first day of sailing.
The first 24-hours at anchor pass in a breeze: We have a nice dinner and go to bed to set personal bests in sustained sleeping: Richard manages 13 hours continuous, I get to 10 hours. We were actually more tired than we were aware of. Later we learn that on Vanuily the program was rather similar: sleeping a lot and often.
On Wednesday the heater emptied the starboard tank entirely. Compounded over the 4 days at anchor there’s about 80 liters that go through the heater. Also on Wednesday the wind is finally coming down a bit to less than 20 knots. It is still cold with ~4°C but relatively much nicer to prep the boat for the upcoming passage.
We already emptied the six 20-liter jerry cans of diesel into the main tanks about a week ago but we still carry the 600 liter in the fuel bladder that we bunkered in Nuuk, Greenland, in the front cockpit. The main tanks can now readily accept the spare fuel and the transfer job is due. Further the dinghy needs additional strapping such that waves crashing into it don’t move it too much. The rig needs a look-over, with the binoculars I can see some chafe on the main halyard. With the drone we can take a closer look and then decide on additional measures.
And so the day begins innocently. At around noon the wind is less than 20 knots and I dare start the drone. Turns out the chafe is bad enough to require immediate repair. Before addressing the halyard we get the fuel transfer going, which turns out to be a smooth operation. The fuel syphons into the main tanks over the course of about 1 hour.
While the fuel is flowing, Yann pulls me up to the mast top a first time, I disconnect the fixed end of the halyard and bring it down. The repair takes about 3 hours. After lunch Yann pulls me up a second time to remount the mainsail halyard, which goes smoothly in spite of frosty, numb fingers. I notice that a zip tie that holds the antenna cable is cracked, most likely UV damage and me brushing against it. Yann pulls me up a third time with new zip ties and “bang” the sheath of “my” halyard rips with me half way up hanging on it. Bummer! The core better not rip! Yann lowers me carefully and I return safely to the deck. How could that happen?
So more work: replace the Spinnaker halyard with something workable. Yann pulls me up a fourth time, this time with the gennaker halyard. I fix the antenna cable and thread in the makeshift spi halyard to finally descend back to the deck.
It is now the evening of Wednesday, tomorrow mid-morning we shall leave. It turned out to be a busy day! The boat is ready. All sails operational, fuel is transferred and the hydro-generator is mounted.Read more




















TravelerWell done for all the boat work ! Ready to weigh anchor 💪
it’s happen to me this winter with the halyard of the code 0 shafe in the middle of the mast??? how can it happen [Pierre Robitaille]
TravelerBummer! It’s not a nice feeling! On Aquaterra? I think the code 0 halyard doesn’t like pulling straight up. Actually the spi halyard doesn’t like it much either. I will investigate where the ripped location could have chafed.
Yann can skip the gym. Great performance! 💪🏻 [Benno]