Impressions of a transatlantic crossing by Paul. Why does a person spend three weeks on a boat with a 360˚ "panoramic sea view", dogwatches, no option to take a walk around the block and possible exposure to storms, bruises, seasickness etc.? How about the freedom and independence of life at sea? Or keeping a boat sailing together as a team 24 hours a day? From the first sailing voyage I ever made, these aspects have always attracted me. And when Tania and Marcel started to talk about their sailing plans two years ago in Oman, I immediately said "put me on the crew list". After a very long flight from Borneo, I arrived on the 8th of November in Las Palmas, from where we would depart. Three days of provisioning followed. Tania asked me if there was something that I definitely needed to have on board. I answered that I like to eat anything, and also that I wouldn’t ask for something as obvious as peanut butter. This resulted in a surprised look from Tania: "We don’t have any peanut butter!" The next few days we discovered that peanut butter is unknown in Spain. On the 13th of November we were ready to depart, and at 7 am, the Mahina Tiare anchored next to us, having departed from Lanzarote the day before. We would sail together, and keep in touch via radio. After our departure from Las Palmas, we had light winds, and in order to avoid a low southwest of Tenerife we had to sail almost as far south as the Cape Verde islands. The nights were beautiful with bright stars and a fantastic meteor shower (the "Leonids") on the 17th. The number of meteorites was well in excess of a hundred (fireworks!). The African "Hakuna Matata" mentality became apparent north of Cape Verde when the VHF emergency channel 16 was used to transmit Reggea music during the night. We quickly got used to our watch schedule of 3 hours on and 6 hours off. Bread, applepie, yoghurt and pizza came out of Alegria’s galley, despite the strong rolling motion of the boat as we were "goose-winging" downwind. The one occasion when we saw whales close to the boat, and the many times that dolphins were playing around the bow will remain unforgettable highs. The last week before our arrival in Antigua, the tropical storm Olga was on our path, and we encountered many squalls (rain showers). Although Olga was far away, we paid extra attention to the weather forecasts. One of the many useful learning points of the journey was the meteorological knowledge and experience we obtained. We are now almost "squall experts" and tried out all kinds of strategies to dodge a squall, or to get through one as safely and quickly as possible. During one squall, the wind increased from 10 knots to 37 knots (8 beaufort) in a matter of minutes. Marcel and I (Paul) had furled all the sails, leaving only 20% of the mainsail, which still gave us 5.5 knots of boatspeed. That same night Tania and I encountered a squall which propelled us at 9.5 knots with almost a full mainsail up. What an excitement! On the morning of the 5th of December Tania woke me up at 8 am because we had made landfall. Antigua is ahead of us after 22 days at sea. Impressions from Marcel The distance from Gran Canaria to Antigua is about 3000 nautical miles (5400 km), about the same distance which Alegria had already done from Sweden to Gran Canaria. We would be at sea for 3 weeks. In order to make sure that everything continued to work well, I had completed most items on a long "to do" list before Paul’s arrival. I had completed the 200 hour service on the engine, the steering system was working again, the watermaker was perfect and so on. Paul helped Tania to hoist me up the mast, so I could inspect the rigging. The cupboards, the fridge and the freezer were filled up to the brim with provisions. We were ready for departure. We had arranged with our friends from Mahina Tiare to keep in touch daily via shortwave radio. Other friends of Mahina Tiare, on board Lyric joined in as well. This was great fun. Daily we exchanged weather information, and we discussed strategy to avoid calms or possible storms. We also exchanged brain teasers. Often the crew of Alegria had the right answer the next day. This earned us the reputation of "the three engineers". It was very good to have a third person on board. With the two of us, there is only time for cooking, eating, cleaning the dishes, watch keeping and sleeping. You have to sleep a lot during the day to get enough hours of sleep. But with three it works perfectly. We had a very good time together. Paul also turned out to be a very good cook. Sunrise and sunset in the tropics can be spectacularly beautiful. And at sea you get a very good view. We made many photos. When the sea was quiet we swam in 4000-meter deep water. The water is very clear, and when you look down, you see the sun rays disappear into infinity. Arrival in Antigua gave all three of us a sense of pride. This was the goal we had been looking forward to for so long. And now we are here. For Tania and me the further plans are less well defined. The next few months we will cruise around the Caribbean. By the first of July we have to leave the Caribbean for the hurricane season. We will either go north, the east coast of the States, or south, Granada, Aruba, Bonaire, Curacao. Impressions from Tania Months in advance I had been rather nervous about the ocean crossing. When, for example, I was enjoying the view of a sunny landscape, I was struck by a sudden sensation of anxiety in the region of my stomach, and I thought: "Gosh, I am about to cross the Atlantic Ocean! Do I know enough, have I prepared everything well enough, is the boat in good shape, what shall I buy for provisions?" etc. Strangely enough, when Paul arrived and asked me if I was nervous for the crossing, I felt quite at ease. Apparently I had prepared myself quite well mentally. First we wanted to sail to Tenerife. We waved goodbye to Bill and Joy on Aurora Lights, who we met in Lanzarote and who were also anchored in Las Palmas. Now this was a nice introduction for Paul. We had a headwind that day, 6 beaufort, and despite the ginger sweets Paul threw his breakfast to the fish. We decided that it was more fun to turn around, and so that night we were anchored behind Aurora Lights again. Two days later we departed from Las Palmas. The first day we still saw Mahina Tiare, and later Blackwatch, with Ernst-Jan and Marlies on board, who we met in Las Palmas. I experienced that while sailing your thoughts and emotions run freely. You see everything from a distance, and therefore clearer and more objectively. It occurred to me that in today’s society we let ourselves get worked up so much, and do the same to others. Can’t we all take it a little bit easier? On land there is also so much bad news around you. How can you then still think positively? Out on the ocean, you are free from all of this, and the world is just beautiful. There are no disturbances. You also live more healthily. The air is still clean out here. The water as well, and without chlorine. Here you don’t need any of these skin lotions anymore. Our watermaker makes perfect drinking water out of seawater. You are busy all the time, but also take enough rest. We had fresh vegetables until the last day, baked our own bread and made our own yoghurt. I discovered that these simple tasks can be very rewarding. Often when we were sailing, we were occupied with the trimming of the sails, ease the sheets a little, tighten the sheets a little, take out a reef, and put one in. In this way you can be playing with the sails for hours, but still the boat isn’t running nicely. Then when you finally let go, and go and do something else, all of a sudden Alegría runs very nicely by itself and the autopilot. And nothing has changed in the trim of the sails! You simply have to act like Columbus and go with the wind. Often you can feel it in your body when the boat is running nicely. You can also hear it in the way the water runs along the hull. During short crossings I have often stated that I don’t like night sailing. I think I can’t stand when my rhythm is disturbed, and also I much prefer laying in bed with Marcel, rather than sleeping alone and alternating. When you are in bed at night and all of a sudden the boat starts pitching instead of rolling, the motor is started and on deck you hear noises and the flapping of sails, then you know that they are setting a reef, and you can only hope that all goes well with the two guys on deck, and that they clip on their harnesses and stay on board. You think that it must be tough, but they are having fun. However, I have learned to appreciate the night watches. In the beginning the nights were dark with a clear starry sky, and the sea around the boat resembled a sparkling treasure box full of fluorescent green particles that splash up as the boat was gliding through the waves. I start to enjoy this. I am so happy when I am standing behind the wheel. The wide ocean around me, and the stars above. I already knew some stars, and Paul taught me many more. There we sailed underneath Orion, the Pleiades, Taurus, Cassiopeia, the Andromeda Galaxy, Castor and Pollux of Gemimi and Leo, my own star sign, and all those meteorites. The last two weeks there often was a clear moon which illuminated the sea and the clouds. In this way I come closer to myself during these night watches. Sometimes I become very emotional during the night, and feel the closeness of all my family and friends, and also my father. You feel as one with everything, and live in the present. You also let go and go with the wind, have confidence that all will go well. This experience fills me with the most intense, deep feelings. I feel moved and am grateful to be alive. What does "Alegria mean?" In a sense, "Alegria" is the quest to find happiness in yourself, and to bring happiness wherever you go. To do something about the grief in the world. I believe we have to start with ourselves. We must not say "that is just the way it is", but start to change ourselves, and really see the other person. To see the good in other people. The worst moments for me were when I had to get something from the bottom of the fridge or freezer (on boats these are almost invariably top loaders, because this cools more efficiently), or when the hot tea fell over, which happened three times. Luckily no harm was done. I also did not like the night watch when I fell ill, and did not feel well at all. Luckily the boys took over my day watches, so that I could sleep. The most awkward and funny moments were when we were out of phase with the motion of the boat, and I saw Paul land on top of Marcel, or the flower for the bread dusted the navigation table, or one of us dropped the freshly cut onions behind the stove instead of in the pan. The nicest moments were swimming in the ocean, a nice day of sailing with good winds, the daily radio conversations with Lyric and Mahina Tiare, e-mails from Bea, Niek, and Bas and Marcel’s parents, a nice meal and the halfway party. The most beautiful moments were sunrise and sunset. During sunrise it is as if time and the wind are standing still momentarily out of respect for the sun, around which everything revolves. Every living being looks up for a moment during sunrise and sunset. It is a special moment and the colours became more intense and redder as we sailed west. The most exciting moments were during the squalls. Then we had to furl the genoa quickly and we sat tucked away underneath the dodger, waiting for the rain to come, and like a computer game we were at the controls of the autopilot to ensure that the wind would continue to blow into the mainsail from the right side. Just before the squall, the wind suddenly increases. Sometimes you also have to reef the mainsail. Then the rain starts, and the wind decreases again. And then you can set the sails again. Especially at night, this can be rather tiring. At first I thought the squalls were a bit scary, but later I saw them as a source of wind, refreshing, good to wash the deck and as occupational therapy. The most special moment was when we saw three sperm whales at a distance of 150 meters from the boat. Animals as big as the boat. We had great respect for them and it was such a magnificent sight to see their tail wave above the water before they dove into the deep. The moment of landfall and to see Antigua for the first time was a bit ambiguous for me. On the one hand the feeling of pride: "Wow, we have made it, we have done the crossing!" On the other hand the strange feeling: "Gosh, now this wonderful experience is over, why can’t we stay at sea a little longer?" When we arrived in Jolly Harbour, Marcel had to go to customs and immigration. Paul and I had to stay on board. We saw Marcel enter en leave through three different doors. He had visited 4 different officers, and then we were allowed to moor in the marina, next to Mahina Tiare. The crossing had taken 22 days. We were all tired, and went to bed at 8 pm. The next day we celebrated our arrival with John and Amanda from the Mahina Tiare and with champagne. That same evening we also celebrated St. Nicolas. John and Amanda have left with their new crew, on their way to Panama. Their website is w w w . m a h i n a . c o m . We explored the island together with Paul, and visited St. John’s, English- and Falmouth harbour. We also enjoyed the white beach with palm trees and swam in beautiful clear turquoise water. The island is beautiful with 365 beaches, one for each day of the year. The people are very friendly. Paul has left us as well now. We miss his company. After all, we shared a very intense month together, and it was very enjoyable. Tad and Joyce sailed Lyric to Barbados. A few days later we suddenly heard: "Alegria, Alegria, this is Black watch, over". And there was Ernst-Jan. He and Marlies are now crew on board Anja-K. All of us will keep in touch via short-wave radio, every Saturday.