Land ahoy!

From Pollywogs to Shellbacks

Having cleared the doldrums and once again hoisted our sails, we began preparing for another significant event on Yuma, namely the crossing of the equator. Crossing from the northern to the southern hemispheres is traditionally considered a major milestone for sailors and particularly so if there are crew members for whom the crossing is their first.

The crossing itself is usually celebrated with a variety of ‘ceremonial’ activities that usually involve alcohol and silliness, and which, if there are first-timers (pollywogs) on board, include ceremonies in which they are baptised whereby “King Neptune” transforms them into ‘shellbacks’.

We were both pollywogs and, not having a shellback on board to oversee proceedings, we had to improvise a bit as to how best to mark this crossing and pay our respects to Neptune. We figured that so long as libations were offered then Neptune would probably be happy with whatever silliness we got up to.

So, having watched the latitude count down to 00° 00.000’N, we heaved to and made offerings (freshly baked apple/peach crumble) and libations (rum) to Neptune, followed by our self-baptism in the Atlantic with a mere 4 or 5,000m of water underneath us.

After our swim and with Neptune apparently satisfied, we partook of a few of the offerings ourselves and then, as newly baptised shellbacks, set sail again and continued on our way to Fernando de Noronha. In theory we should both now get shellback turtle tattoos to indicate our elevated status but, yeah, nah, might pass on that.

The southeasterly trade winds

We very soon found ourselves in the southern trades, which meant that the wind now was coming from forward of the beam and we were sailing on a close reach. This, unfortunately, made for the most uncomfortable sea conditions of the passage; we still had swell coming from the north, while the wind waves were now coming with the trades from the SE – very bumpy and rolly.

Again, we spent our time either being on watch, or lying down sleeping or reading. Luckily, the island was only another 200nm or so, and a strong westward-flowing current was helping push us along at a good clip. Being close to land also meant that we were starting to see more birds, common noddies and brown boobies, as well as plenty red-billed and white-tailed tropicbirds and magnificent frigatebirds. After days of water, sky and clouds, this was a welcome distraction

Fernando de Noronha

On the morning of day 11, the 22th January, I (F) heard Brazilian Portuguese being spoken on the VFH for the first time at 0815 (the first sounds we’d heard on the radio since Cabo Verde), and 15min later I saw the first contours of Fernando de Noronha. We had made it across the Atlantic!

Wanting to share this very special moment with David, I went down to wake him up but my soft kisses did not elicit even the slightest response. Was this a sign of me having pushed our relationship too far with my desire to sail around the world, or was he just too deeply asleep to notice? Happily, it appeared to be the latter, and four hrs later we dropped anchor in Baia de Santo Antonio at Fernando de Noronha.

After 10 days and 2.5 hrs, we celebrated our successful Atlantic crossing surrounded by leaping spinner dolphins, busy tropicbirds and soaring frigatebirds. What a beautiful arrival!