Eight Lessons Learned From An Atlantic Crossing

A Sunset in the Middle of the Atlantic Ocean.
A Sunset in the Middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

Note: this text was hastily translated from French using DeepL. My apologies for weird turns of phrases.

I recently completed a boat delivery from La Rochelle (France) to the Turcs and Caicos Islands, via the Canary Islands and Cape Verde. It took over a month and a half, with a few stops along the way. This transatlantic crossing was rich in experiences, and I share below some of the lessons I learned along the way.

1 – It Takes Longer Than You Think

Crossing the Atlantic takes time. The corporate document seeking for a crew – specifying a voyage between La Rochelle and Nassau – stated a duration of two weeks. This is completely unrealistic. A simple estimate of the nautical miles to be covered suggests a duration of six weeks. Similarly, colleagues who have made a similar journey report a duration of a similar order.

This six-week estimate also assumes favorable winds, no major storms and, above all, no stops on the way. If the slightest damage occurs along the way (and before the crossing), a stop is in order. Landing somewhere takes a minimum of two to three days, due to the various formalities and hazards of everyday life: customs, landmarks, public vacations, etc.

We had to stop in Tenerife (Canary Islands) and Mindelo (Cape Verde). The first stop, which was planned, took three days to carry out the required engine inspection and crew changes. The second stop was unplanned, but necessary due to a rip in the mainsail. This second stop cost us ten days: a few days to wait for the sail repairman, but also a few more days to renew with favourable winds.

It is the lead singer of Les Colocs who said that [freely translated] “life is short, but it’s long for little bits“. A crossing is also long in the sense that it is filled of several long little bits. Aboard, apart from watches and manoeuvers, life is monotonous and slow. Ahead of the crossing, as I was having a few colleagues read out my navigation plan, one of them said to me “get yourself a good tablet reader” (e.g. kindle, iPad, etc.). In retrospect, it is an excellent advice. But whatever is your favorite hobby, you will grow tired out of it with time. As an example, one crew member brought a guitar to entertain the others and help pass the time. After ten days, he had gone through the repertoire… more than once. In short, diversifying hobbies will help.

2- Satellite Internet Is the New Norm

A Starlink Antenna.
A Starlink Antenna.

We brought a Starlink antenna for the crossing. By default, it has to be connected on 110 V alternating current, so an inverter has to be onboard. (There are kits available for converting the antenna to a 12 volt DC circuit, but this may void the warranty). Power consumption is 65 watts when the antenna is transmitting. At rest, consumption is negligible. Usage therefore depends on the electrical system onboard.

We used the “marine” package, the most expensive availlable (!), with an antenna designed for recreational vehicles (the “roam” model). Starlink’s prices are still relatively high (+/- 250 USD/month). That said, Amazon is about to enter the market, which should bring prices down. By way of comparison, leasing an Iridium phone costs around 300 USD/month.

Simply put: it works. It works in the middle of nowhere, when the boat is rocking, or even in a storm. There were five of us aboard and the connection supported zoom calls, Youtube videos, or application downloads. All navigation data transited via the satellite connection. We did experience some connection difficulties in a marina, and if the boat was pitching substantially (seas over 4m), the connection was sometimes intermittent. The crew’s assessment is that it is relatively reliable.

We also had an Iridium phone as backup technology, but the only time we used it was when we had to communicate with other boats that only had Iridium aboard. Iridium allows 200 bits to be charged over a period of 10 to 20 minutes. In comparison, the Starlink connection offers a bandwidth of around 100 megabytes per second. These speeds are comparable to the Internet at home. Remote working becomes a reality, even on the high seas.

We simply attached the antenna to the boat’s deck (photo above). Even in three-metre seas, the dome never moved more than a few centimetres. On smaller boats, one would have to consider installing an antenna support along a stanchion. This is perhaps the most important disadvantage: the antenna occupies an area of 30 cm x 60 cm, which is not insignificant on a small boat.

Forget Iridium and similar technologies: they’re outdated. The future is satellite internet.

3 – Dancing With A Hurricane Requires A “Win-Win” Strategy

We left Cabo Verde in July, at the start of the hurricane season. There was thus a (low) likelihood of crossing the paths of hurricanes. As luck would have it, we had to face two named storms in the middle of the Atlantic, a first since 1968. We thus had to adapt our navigation tactics to take account of their trajectory, but also of the uncertainty of the forecasts.

The "1-2-3" rule.
The “1-2-3” rule.

The basic hurricane avoidance tactic of is the “1-2-3” rule developed by NOAA. A sailboat must be 100 nautical miles away from the 34-knot radius 1 day after the hurricane warning. It has to be 200 nautical miles away after two days, and 300 nautical miles away after three days. The approach incorporates the path’s uncertainty of the hurricane, as well as the fact that strong winds spread beyond its eye.

Bret's Forecasted Path (June 21st Forecast).
Bret’s Forecasted Path (June 21st Forecast).

This tactic has however one drawback: you have to wait for NOAA to issue an advisory on the hurricane’s track and position. NOAA usually waits a few days after the formation of depressions before issuing an advisory. This implies two things. First, boaters can see the formation of lows leading to storms and hurricanes before NOAA issues an advisory. Second, experts see the same information and prefer to wait before naming a hurricane. So there’s a period when we, the amateurs, see the development of a possible hurricane without having NOAA’s official predictions.

Is This A Depression or A Future Hurricane?
A Depression or A Forming Hurricane?

This inherent uncertainty is compounded by the fact that weather forecasting models do not communicate the same course of events, and therefore do not suggest the same tactics. One weather model may communicate the formation of a hurricane, while another communicates at most an area of strong winds. The prudent sailor will certainly evaluate his navigation plans in the light of both models.

Safe planning anticipates the worst, but in the face of uncertainty, it also takes care not to assess only the worst. There will usually be several paths to avoid the worst and some of them will also be attractive if an alternative weather forecast comes true. It pays to spend a few hours identifying those paths.

On June 18, before NOAA issued an official warning of what would become Hurricane Bret, weather models suggested it would follow one of two possible trajectories. The first predicted a westward movement between Cape Verde and the West Indies (our route!), followed by a northward ascent just before reaching the Caribbean (photo below). The second predicted that the hurricane would end up somewhere in the Gulf of Mexico, without moving northward.

Our tactic was to move significantly northwards. For four days, we headed north up the Atlantic. This allowed us to slow down and wait for Hurricane Bret to overtake us. If the hurricane had gone north, we would have had to go south again after a few days to avoid it, returning to our original route. If the hurricane had stayed to the south, this would have allowed us to head west again, without having to descend, and target the Turks and Caicos Islands. If this “best-case scenario” were to happen, we could save a week. The key idea is that this tactic gave us a week to decide whether or not to head south, allowing us to make the most of Bret’s evolution.

In contrast, another tactic would have been to descend south from our original route, bringing us closer to the equator. This approach would certainly have put us out of danger, but it wouldn’t have saved us any time if the proven trajectory was the one where Bret was heading for the Gulf of Mexico. This tactic avoided the worst, but didn’t allow us to take advantage of the best-case scenario. It was mainly on the basis of this analysis that we chose to head north.

As luck would have it, two days after we began our ascent northwards, NOAA issued an official advisory, confirming the forecast trajectories towards the Gulf of Mexico. This tactic put us out of danger and saved us a week. Our actual track, as well as the actual track of Bret (and tropical depression Cindy), is shown in the Figure below.

Our Sailing Path.
Our Sailing Path.

4 – The Point of Sailing Influences the Crew Morale

Most sailing books either focus on sailing stories or on sailing techniques. Very few look at crew management. The crossing would certainly have made me realize that a difficult and prolonged pace demoralizes the crew, even if everyone understands its necessity.

As explained above, our main tactic of avoiding Hurricane Bret took us up north for four days, skirting the high-pressure zone that serves as the turning point for the trade winds in the Atlantic. Four days on a beam reach, where the waves hit harder than downwind, and certainly, where the waves are felt by the crew.

In a period of two days, the team’s morale dived at an all-time low. It wasn’t depression, nor resignation, but an atmosphere where the crew’s energy came down to doing nothing and not complaining. No fun, no joy, no initiative and strict adherence to watch schedules. Anything surplus to sailing was quickly reduced to a minimum: minimalist dinners, little housework and/or washing-up, and little leisure. Conversations were limited to technical considerations, and some managed their seasickness. The boat moved forward, but in silence and without joy.

For two crew members, a beam reach was worse, as their cabins were to the east, on the side where the waves were hitting the hull and where the sun was rising. In short, these two people had three short, tumultuous nights.

For these reasons, we changed our course half a day faster. We reduced our sail area and returned to a downwind, westerly course. This slowed us down, giving us enough time to let the hurricane pass without having to make the extra distance. So we improved comfort without neglecting safety.

Barely a day after the change of course, the crew’s mood was back, as were group conversations and prepared dinners. After one day, the boat was washed, the dishes done and the laundry clean. Everyone was also able to get their eight hours’ sleep, which has a considerable impact on morale. All with a single course change!

The technical analysis of navigation is a central component of route planning. That said, the way in which the crew will adjust to the routes is a dimension that also needs to be considered. It is important to remember that a forward wind point of sail will have an impact on crew morale. When circumstances allow, this should be minimized. Putting the boat downwind overnight after a difficult day is also morale booster: it gives everyone a better night’s sleep!

5 – Slow Means Far

Yanmar 57 hp Power Curve.
Yanmar 57 hp Power Curve.

Before the transatlantic, I always estimated a boat’s range by analyzing the fuel consumption at full power, then dividing this range into three: two-thirds for navigation and one-third for emergency manoeuvers. This estimate assumes that the engine is running at full throttle and, incidentally, consumes much more fuel. I illustrate the idea with a 57 HP Yanmar engine. Its power curve is shown above, translating revolutions per minute into fuel consumption (in liters per hour, the left-hand scale). This engine had a dedicated fuel tank of 400 liters.

At full speed (3000 RPM), the engine consumes 10 liters per hour. That’s a total capacity of 40 hours. If the boat makes around 8 knots at this RPM, the tank and engine give us a range of 320 nautical miles to divide between navigation and emergency situations.

Note that fuel consumption is much lower when the engine is running at low speed. At 1600 RPM, consumption is around 2 liters per hour, that is four times less! This means you can run the engine for 200 hours with the same amount of fuel. At this power, the boat is travelling at around 5 knots, which means 1000 nautical miles to be divivided. That’s more than three times the range at full throttle.

In terms of fuel consumption management, there is thus a trade-off between speed and range. The more you can anticipate a travel situation (e.g. emergency, hurricane, etc.), the more you can fold it in advance into a navigation, thus giving a greater range. However, an increased range costs time (thus food) and brings wear and tear on the engines. In fact, manufacturers advise against using engines at low-speed, as combustion blocks are optimized for high temperatures.

As explained above, we had to avoid two hurricanes by significantly changing the boat’s course over a week. It involved a few days under engine. Because we were able to anticipate, we were able to use the engine at low revs.

The more you think about it in advance, the easier it is to assess which side of the trade-off is more worthwhile. In certain circumstances, if you need to get out of an area quickly, high power, sacrificing range, may be appropriate! Otherwise, going slowly gives you range.

5.1 – For math geeks

Let r designate the engine RPM, V(r) be the boat speed (in knots) at that given RPM and C(r) be the engine’s consumption at that given consumption (in liters per hour, as in the Figure above). It is reasonable to assume that V(r) is a concave function (e.g. V'(r) > 0, V''(r)<0, meaning that a given increase in the engine power translates in smaller speed increases as the speed increases. Furthermore, C(r) is typically convex (V'(r) > 0, V''(r)>0), as shown in the Figure above. For a given tank capacity L, the range is given by:

R(r)= L\frac{V(r)}{C(r)}.

Indeed, dividing the tank capacity by the consumption gives the number of hours for which the engine can run. Multiplying the result by the speed gives the range in nautical miles. Because the ratio of a concave function and a convex function yields a concave function, there is a unique range maximizing speed r^*, which satisfies the first order condition:

R(r^*)\left[\frac{V'(r^*)}{V(r^*)}-\frac{C'(r^*)}{C(r^*)}\right]=0.

Since range is a non-zero value, this expression is satisfied only when the speed increase, expressed in percentage (V'(r)/V(r)), is equal to the consumption expressed in percentage (C'(r)/C(r)).

When the engine speed is such that the speed increase, in percentage, is greater than the consumption, in percentage, then both range and speed increases. When the engine speed increase, in percentage, is smaller than the consumption increase, in percentage, then the trade-off between speed and range occurs. This happens at higher engine speeds. Of course, when both are equal, then the range is maximized.

In order to make this equation practical, one needs an empirical version of the function V(r), which is highly dependent on the specificites of a boat.

6- Daily Goals Keep the Crew Focused

This sixth lesson is one of leadership. The reality of a transatlantic cruise is that most of the time, there is nothing to do. The boat is moving along, the food is being prepared and, in a nutshell, everything is running smoothly. Without an objective, the crew nevertheless seeks ways to make itself useful. It may stemb from a positive intention, but it may also – perhaps – be a way of keeping busy. The most frequent consequence of these intentions is to change the sailing configuration after a change of watch. After a full cycle of watches (in our case, twelve hours), it is amazing to see how much the configuration of the boat has changed, although there were no significant modifications to sailing conditions. This is more the result of the crew’s “fidgeting” than anything else!

A useful way of channelling this enegry is to set daily objectives: assess the water in the bilges, test the electrical systems, inspect the rigging, or ensure that a certain distance is covered for a day (perhaps to avoid a storm). By setting this common goal, each person’s contribution becomes much clearer, and directed towards the goal, rather than on haphazard marginal adjustments. It’s also very useful to announce these objectives a day or two in advance, so that the crew can incorporate the information into their own planning.

7 – Fears Are Contagious

This lesson is also one of leadership. Not unrelated to the previous point, a crossing will generate fears and worries within the crew. “Do we have the right fuel reading?”, “Why is there still water in the bilges?”, “Are the batteries discharged?”, and so on. The psyche is such that doubt creeps on board, sometimes for no reason at all. Inexperience is certainly a factor in seeing problems where there are none.

That said, the point I’m trying to make here is that these unfounded fears tend to spread among the crew through daily conversations. And if these fears metamorphose into a desire for action, a critical point is reached where the skipper must intervene.

Before even thinking of intervening on a running system, it’s important to assess whether the intervention could further damage the system. If there are significant doubts, it is far preferable to leave the system as it is and manage the person’s fears rather than attempt any intervention. This assessment depends, of course, on the competence of the person who can carry out the intervention, but also on the inherent blunders of trying to modify a system while the boat is in motion.

We learned this the hard way during the crossing: someone convinced the crew that the batteries were no longer working. This person set about undoing the boat’s electrical system. As a result, two charge readers broke, leaving us blind on the state of charge of four of the six batteries. And what we learned was that there was nothing wrong with the batteries themselves. In short, we lost two indicators of the system’s status because of a misplaced fear about the state of the batteries.

Before thinking of doing anything, it’s a good idea to agree on a clear intervention, approved by the skipper, that includes tests to validate or invalidate hypotheses specific to the troubleshooting process established. It’s also a good idea to cross-check upstream whether a fear is well-founded, using non-destructive diagnostics.

Telling someone that their fears are unfounded, or that their intervention could make the boat worse is not an easy conversation. When the tests and diagnostics pose a minimal risk of breakage, it may be a good idea to let the person do the assessment to invalidate their fear (until the next one…). However, it’s an important aspect of crew management to make people understand that not every action is a good one to take if it’s not based on anything. If it works, don’t touch it.

If we want to deal with the problem at an early stage, it’s a good idea to identify the persons who are fearful and to establish right away how decisions are made. It also is very useful to distinguish between a fear of what might happen and a fear of what is happening. If the contagion is recurrent, it’s a good idea to point it out to the whole crew, so that they too can learn to “decode the pattern” to guard against it.

Ultimately, you need to maintain the safety of the boat, which may mean avoiding destructive testing if there is no good reason to do so. In this case, it’s the fearful person who needs to be managed, rather than the systems on board.

8 – The Boat Speaks

It’s a well-known saying amongst sailors that “the boat speaks”. I certainly learned it during the crossing. As a general rule, if the rigging makes an abnormal noise, the boat is badly configured. I set out on the transatlantic without a clear conception of the meaning of this statement, relying more generally on visual inspection than anything else. Of course, visual analysis of the boat is par for the course, but sound is often more revealing of what’s going on. Specifically, new noises are often indicative of an anomaly. At the end of the transatlantic race, the crew knew the sound of the boat to such an extent that new noises stopped conversations in progress! Knowing how to listen to the boat is a skill to be developed.

Conclusion

These lessons are imminently practical. Their value will change according to the experiences of the reader. Some are probably already known, while others may be new. As far as I’m concerned, they were most certainly concrete learnings during the transatlantic.

I’ll end with a brief remark on the value of skillsacquired during courses leading to sailing certificates, as the lessons above refer to material that is, so to speak, “off course”. Understanding how to maneuver a sail, as well as the various navigation conventions (lights, buoys, collision rules, etc.) is central to crew safety and good sailing. For experienced sailors, this statement is trivial. For newcomers, it’s also a reminder of the importance of mastering these fundamentals, which are not just “exam questions”, but a way of interacting with the boat and the marine environment.