Today was definitely different - to any other day we have ever lived through - we completed our Transatlantic crossing and arrived in Grenada! It was a difficult last 30 miles or so, not the serene glide in front of a steady Trade Wind that we had ordered.
The day once again started with a squall (at the end of David’s 0300 to 0600 watch this time) of apocalyptic rain, wind in the upper twenties, and a ninety degree wind shift, followed by no wind for a while, and then back to a reasonable breeze and a nice sail under full headsails, in the right direction. Happily we were doing 6.5 knots through the water when I took over, and we also had two knots of current with us. We were going to take Grenada by storm as the saying goes.
We were watching the squalls come through on the radar. Smugly I watched two lots of squalls coming and then passing one on either side of us. We were creaming along nicely. No rain. What I had forgotten was that the radar only shows rain, not increased wind. The wind built and built and the slight seas we had were flattened by the stronger breeze. The boat took off, screaming along at ten knots over the ground, with her two big poles out each side, as steady as a rock. It felt like we were a Brixham Beam Trawler, with our arms out, having gone round a bumpy Berry Head and taken off, with the wind behind, across a flat Torbay. With land safely in sight ahead it was fantastic and exhilarating. But I did put two reefs in, which knocked two noeds off the speed, and got us back in control. Then the usual wind shift, thirty degrees this time, collapse in wind, and finally it all filling in again, and eventually moving back to the right direction - which is now important as the passage ends.
About three hours of pleasurable sailing followed as landfall at Grenada grew closer and closer. We just watched the island loom larger and larger, each engrossed in our own silent thoughts, My waypoint was off the south coast, shortly before Glover Island, and there we needed to harden up to sail towards Point Saline, the SW corner of the Island. It was clear from the sky that more squalls were coming through and, sadly, we needed to get the ballooner down. That came down swiftly and easily - perhaps the 28 year old sail wanted to creep back into its bag and rest! I think it was our fastest drop ever. By 1030 the ballooner was away. By 1050 both poles were back in and away and the genoa reset without a pole. At 1100 the next squall hit with torrential rain and passed very quickly. In the lull that followed we sailed under three white sails, broad reaching. But at 1140 another massive squall arrived. In came the main and mizzen. A couple of reefs in the genoa and we gybed to continue along the coast after the wind shift. That lasted until around midday when the wind dropped. Boom, it was gone, turned off, and this time seemingly for good. So near and yet so far. Five miles to go.
We then had an exceedingly difficult hour of sailing, or trying to sail, with limited and very shifty wind behind us, gybing and trying this and that to get her moving. Unhelpfully the current deserted us as well as the wind. After proceeding at the great pace of 1.9 knots over the ground, with two catamarans motoring past us, David just became too exasperated. So he switched on the engine and I went down below to do the washing up. We rounded Point Saline and headed north eastwards towards St George’s, keeping outside Long Point Shoal. The apparent wind increased as we did so, but also some wind came back. Determined to sail over the finishing line we unfurled the main and genoa and, after only thirty minutes of motoring, switched the engine off and went back to sailing. This time close hauled. Then - joy of joys, the wind not only freed but also increased. We ended with a lovely sail, along the coast right up to the end of the big ship channel into St George’s. Off course, as we took the sails in, and started to head up to motor up the channel, another squall, of torrential rain, came through!
St George’s is a natural hurricane hole type basin with two bays reached, from the sea, by a narrow short channel. It’s the capital of Grenada and its main port. A small commercial container dock was ahead of us, at the end of the channel. The historic town with its waterfront lined by fishing boats and its basin, lay to port; to starboard the lagoon with the yacht moorings, anchorage and marina. We were asked to circle outside in the entrance channel for some time whilst the catamaran ahead of us was berthed. That seemed to take a while.
When we were called into the Lagoon the marina rib sped out to us, took two of our lines, and sped away again. We were once again asked to circle for a while - whilst they prepared ground lines for us, using our lines. Then in we went. We had to pass a few yachts, turn to starboard, and then back up to the high concrete and wooden dock, next to a sixty footer. The Marineros passed me the two ground lines, to put on our bow, and I threw the stern lines to helpers onshore. We then tightened the bow ground lines, as much as David could, and then used the engine to back up against them and to tighten the stern lines. It took three go’s to get the boat in the right position to use the pasarelle correctly to get ashore.
Then all hell broke loose in our little secluded world. As we looked up from berthing there were people clapping and shouting and cheering. With some trepidation we wobbled along the passerelle onto the pontoon, not entirely sure how our bodies were going to cope. We were immediately thrown into a professional photography session, which seemed to include an awful lot of shots. During this we were handed a gorgeous locally made wicker basket full of all sorts of Grenadian goodies and gifts, and two stiff, ice cold, rum punches. Wow! We wandered somewhat aimlessly around on the pontoon. So many people asking us questions. So many people congratulating us. So many people praising us. So many so impressed with Frances Louise. It was a fantastic end to what had been the most fantastic passage.
We have come 2,229 nautical miles from Mindelo, motoring for only two miles of that. 337 miles have been “free” miles due to the favourable currents we have constantly enjoyed. It has taken 15 days. We hoisted the ballooner after 27.2 miles and dropped it 13 miles from the end. We have not changed sail plans at all. But we have done a huge amount of reefing and unreefing - not difficult with an electric furler - as we have sailed cautiously and conservatively. We have sailed downwind, with the Trades - first south west with the north easterlies, until the butter melts, and then swung westwards as the Trade Winds swung eastwards. We have had no dramas, issues, incidents, breakages, or even wear or tear. It has been nothing short of pure magic.
Throughout both our long long preparations, and over the last month of pure sailing, after leaving Las Palmas, we have enjoyed the unwavering, continual, support, and enthusiastic encouragement of my Father and my Sister. They have been with us vicariously on the boat thanks to the wonders of Starlink. This was so special for all of us as my father was the previous owner of Frances Louise V and my sister is her other namesake (my middle name is Frances and my sister’s Louise). Thank you both so much.