It is 0200 and we are 460 miles due east of the Bahamas. That puts us somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean over gallons and gallons of water. It is my watch and the night is magical. We are sailing on a beam reach at about 6 knots as the wind vane quietly steers our easterly course. We have been sailing on a beam reach - our most comfortable point of sail - for about 3 days. There is a swell off the beam, gently lifting and lowering us 5 feet as we proceed along our way. The moon is full and throws down beams that sparkle the water. We have not seen another boat in two days. And the only sound is the gentle swooshing as Vagus cuts through the water. It is a time to savor and remember, a time to absorb and to store in memory banks for ready retrieval and enjoyment, a time that makes all the preparation and work worthwhile. It is why we sail and why we enjoy night sailing. All too quickly, my shift is over. I seem to have just started and it is 0330. I awaken Karen and reluctantly turn over the helm for I must sleep and tomorrow is another day.

So how did we get to the middle of the Atlantic? Well first off, we decided to do an offshore passage to the Virgin Islands as, basically, we thought it was a whole lot easier than doing all the upwind day hops between islands that constituted the other route, otherwise called the "Thorny Path". All we had to do was head east until we reached longitude 065W, then hang a right and head south down the "I-65" until we reached one of the Virgin Islands. We thus avoided having to find an anchorage every night, to navigate skinny waters with keel-grabbing coral heads, and to avoid the coastline fiddley-bits. Many people enjoy the anchorage hopping, but our style at present is to make a move and stay awhile - to each their own. We chose this time of year for the offshore passage for two main reasons. First, we wanted to see the Bahamas. Second, it is out of hurricane season and the frequency of gales is very low. Our main concern was light winds at this time of year and we bought several more fuel jugs to store extra fuel for motoring if required.

We were fortunate in meeting "Julia B" at a Happy Hour in Rock Sound and discovering they also were planning the same trip. All the other boats were heading North to the Abacos and we were the only two heading south (or should I say, east?). Their boat is a similar length and design as ours with a similar motoring range. We immediately hit it off and decided to go together if the timing worked. So off we went to Spanish Wells to prepare for the trip and wait for a suitable weather window. Both of us had subscribed to the same weather routing service in which we got daily personal forecasts and outlooks by radio (SSB).

On Tuesday, March 31st, a good window opened up. We worked for two days putting the boat into offshore condition (securing everything, stowing the dinghy below, etc and Karen prepared meals and baked) with the plan of leaving Tuesday. "Julia B" finished installing a rebuilt injector pump on their engine (it was a bit of a rush getting it to Nassau for rebuilding and back in time for the window) at 12:00 on the 31st. They tested the motor and pronounced that they were ready to go. So at 1400, we cast off our lines. "Starshine" gave us two horn blasts to send us on our way, which was a real treat. "Rovenkin" donated a Frommer's book for the Caribbean, as they were not able to get there this year. With all the preparation, we were actually quite tired and even debated waiting a day. But the boat was all ready and the weather was good so we decided to go. We had planned to hire a pilot to take us out the cut near us in Spanish Wells, but the cut was impassable due to large swells from the Atlantic. Instead, we started with a 3-hour motor in the wrong direction, west, to get to another cut. At least we didn't need a pilot for this cut. The Egg Island pass was protected from the swells but we could look out and see these "hills" rolling by in the distance. We carried on; the winds were forecast light for the first day so we prepared to motor at a speed that gave good fuel economy. The swells were quite manageable. They were at least 9 to 12 feet, but the period was long so we rode up and down like going on a hilly country road.

On Thursday, the winds filled in at 15 to 20 knots, so with a single reef in the main, Vagus took off at 7 knots on a broad reach. The seas were a bit confused and the motion below was jerky to say the least. We both developed a good bruise collection as we got our sea legs. It was quite a trick maneuvering around as when you tried to put your foot down, the floor shifted and was not where your foot was going. We soon learned to hang on with two hands if possible (not just one hand for yourself and one for the ship). Now hanging on with at least one hand was definitely required but have you ever tried to pull up your pants with one hand, do up a belt buckle, or wash your face (the walls at least got washed). We did take Stugeron before leaving. We do not know if it worked as we did not get seasick but did not go off it, as experimenting was not in the cards, until the seas calmed down. The wind vane did great service and we did not have to touch the helm. The night was beautiful as the moon was approaching full. There were different types of waves that passed by. We had bubblers, hissers, roarers and hull slappers (part of what you think of at night on watch). We set up a schedule to contact and give positions to "Julia B" every 4 hours. It was also someone to talk to. We also checked into the Mississauga Maritime Net and the Marine Maritime Net daily as they tracked our position via Ham radio. We filed a float plan with vessel information with the Marine Maritime. Both groups offer excellent services. We also talked to Chris, our weather router, in the morning as well as downloaded weather faxes and reports for the area using our ham e-mail. Weather took about 2 hours a day to collect and process and determine if we should head a little south or north or when we could cut the corner and head directly to the Virgins

The waves became more docile and the motion more comfortable on Friday. We were still sailing and made 145 miles that day. We even had a bath in the cockpit and pot roast for a sit down dinner. We continued sailing on a beam reach, not touching the sails until Sunday. What a great romp, over 4 days of the best sailing that we have had on the trip. The wind vane self-steering kept us into the wind at the proper angle for maximum speed. On Sunday, the winds dropped and we motored under beautiful, sunny skies. The water colour was the deepest sapphire blue that we had ever seen. Flying fish landed on our deck over night and, in the morning, we did a fish clean up. So far, it was Vagus 5, Flying Fish 0, although our BBQ took a direct hit and the cover will never be the same. Those fish do move at high speeds.

On Monday, we had a fantastic light air sail. We sailed, again on a beam reach, at between 4 and 6 knots under gentle breezes and calm seas with 3-foot swells. The winds dropped later that night and we motored in calm air and clear skies until 0130 Wednesday morning. The winds then filled in and we had a close reach sail until landfall.

Wednesday morning found us about 20 miles off Culebra in the Spanish Virgin Islands. The temperature was 30C and the water temperature was 26C. To our left, we could see St. Thomas and to our right, Puerto Rico. It was a beautiful landfall under sunny skies. Near the island, we downed sails and motored the last couple of miles into the anchorage near Dewey where we had to check into Customs and Immigration. We anchored by 11:30 to a chorus of roosters welcoming us from land. We then had the task of blowing up the dinghy on the deck. Fortunately, the process was easier than imagined. We went in with "Julia B" to check in at the local airport and for a celebratory beer at the dinghy bar. We had made it!