In May 2009, I received a call from a friend asking if I would like to crew in the Carib 1500
Race on his J-44 sloop, Stolen Hour. Most of my sailing experience has been coastal cruising
 and racing, so I was enticed to try my hand at open ocean sailing.

The Carib 1500 (in its 20^th year) is an organized way for sailors to move their vessels from
 the States to the Caribbean with support services and, hopefully, other vessels nearby in
case of emergency. It departs in early November from Norfolk, VA after the end of the
 “official” hurricane season, finishing after  approximately 1500 miles in Tortola, BVI.

As the summer passed my excitement and anticipation for the race continued to rise.
Meanwhile, Peter, the owner/skipper, departed Falmouth in mid-August with his wife and
two children (ages 8 & 10). Their plan was to cruise south to the Chesapeake arriving in
Norfolk in late October. His wife and children would then return to Maine re-joining the
boat in Tortola. The family would then spend the remainder of their one year sabbatical
cruising the warm waters of the Caribbean returning to Maine in August 2010. Their
dream, in the making for several years, was about to come true.
                                                                    
Cindy and I drove to VA to visit our younger daughter  who lives in Chesapeake. It was
also my first opportunity to meet my new grandson who was born in September.

The Carib 1500 has two classes: Rally/Race and Cruising. Regardless of the Class entered,
the objective is to arrive in Tortola safely. We sailed in the Rally Class with the priorities
of safety, fun, fast sailing and catching fish. The fleet ranged in size from thirty-nine feet
to over sixty feet. At 44 feet we were one of the smaller boats in the fleet.

The other three crew had extensive off-shore open ocean experience. The skipper had done
a Carib 1500 with his father in 1990 and also sailed half way around the world on a seventy
foot boat. His father had done two Carib 1500's in 1990 and 1992. Leo, the fourth  member
owned the aforementioned 70 footer taking 18 months to  circumnavigate the globe in 1992.
I was by far the rookie in this group even with 30+ years sailing and over 30,000 miles under
my keel.

The days prior to the race were filled with informational meetings and seminars covering
many topics including: safety at sea, sea sickness prevention and treatment, diesel
maintenance and repair, abandoning ship procedures (hoped we didn't have to use this
 knowledge), communications, weather and fishing. I must admit that my excitement
increased, but was laced with a little anxiety.

November 2nd brought a dreary/drizzly cold day  with temps in the 40's and northerly winds of  15-20 knots. Not the tropical weather that the  travel brochure had mentioned.  Ten minutes  prior to the start we blew a running back-stay,  but were able to jury rig it with a minute to spare and started our journey 150 yards from a 600  foot naval warship heading out on maneuvers. Fifty seven boats were underway split evenly  between the two classes.

We stood watches of four hours on and four hours off. Leo and I had the 7PM-11PM,
3AM-7AM & 11AM-3PM shifts

The wind continued to build as we headed south along the coast. Other boats moved
more eastward, and within 3 hours we had only one other boat in sight. We lost sight of
them in the early evening and did not see another Carib 1500 vessel until we reached
Tortola. Near Cape Hatteras we began “easting” toward the  Gulf Stream.

The Stream, as it is fondly called, is basically a river that runs northeastward in the Atlantic
from Florida, past Nova Scotia and Newfoundland towards the British Isles. The water is
approximately 10-12 degrees warmer than the surrounding ocean with a current of 4-6
knots. The width varies from 30 miles to over 100.

Because of the warmer water wind is always a factor. Wind against the current develops
rough and unpredictable seas. You want to get across it and get into the more placid warm
Atlantic as quickly as possible. Our strategy was to cross it at a narrow point where it was
30-50 miles wide.

We had been in the Stream for about 1 ˝ hours when Leo and I came on watch at 3:00 AM
on the first night. To say that it was wild and crazy is an understatement. Winds were a
steady 25+ knots with seas in the 10-12 foot range. The best description is to imagine sailing
a boat in a washing machine on the heavy agitation cycle. Waves came from every direction,
and it was a challenge to keep the boat on a steady course that was plus or minus 15 degrees
of the intended direction. We swapped the helm every 30 minutes to ease fatigue and maintain
concentration.

We exited the stream about 6:00 AM. However, a placid warm Atlantic was nowhere to be
found. Temps were still in the 40's and wind continued at 25 knots with seas of 6-10 feet. At
least, the waves were  more predictable. Peter was concerned that the boat was not performing
as it should. The boat's GPS speed had always been a knot faster than the mechanical knot-log,
yet the  numbers were constantly matching.

After three days of riding a bucking bronco we had a respite with winds down to 10 knots
and waves of merely 4 feet. Peter put on his wet suit to check to see if were dragging anything.
He immediately came back and donned SCUBA gear to cut away 60 feet of crab-pot line and
two Styrofoam buoys that were wrapped around the keel, prop and engine shaft. Once removed,
our GPS speed continually exceeded the knot-log by almost a knot. We believe we had been
dragging this sea-anchor since the start.

The calmer weather lasted about 6 hours. A large low pressure system off the Canadian
Maritimes had set up large swells coming our way. That combined with a low pressure system
 approaching from the south brought us winds of up to 40 knots, squalls with sideways rain
and seas of 15-20 feet. We were crashing along at 9-10 knots and surfing down waves with
speeds in the mid-teens. To quote Bette Davis, “Hang on, it could be a bumpy ride”.

We continued to make progress toward our destination.  The last two days brought glorious sunshine and t-shirt temps. Wind was 15-20 with stern quartering seas in the  6-8 foot range, a most comfortable sail that was unforgettable. We finished at 4:56 PM Atlantic Standard time after spending 7 days, 3 hours and 56 minutes under way (but who's counting).

This turned out to be the fastest Carib 1500 in its 20 year history. We finished Second in
Class missing first by a mere 15 minutes (.0014%). Our unplanned sea-anchor certainly
kept us from top honors. To put this in perspective, Stolen Hour had competed in 2002
Carib also finishing Second, but they took 36 hours longer than us.