Delivering Le Bateau A' Voile

View from La Bateau A' Voile

Kelvin and Ginny recently sold their 40-foot Irwin, Le Bateau A' Voile,  to a gentleman in Corpus Christi. Part of the deal was to deliver it from Port Arthur to Corpus Christi. Kelvin graciously asked Butch and I to crew.  I jumped at the opportunity.  I've made many trips in the Gulf but never overnight, much less a two-day, two-night trip.  I took this as an opportunity to gain experience and knowledge from two old salts with a ton of experience.

In viewing weather projections, my concern was that we would be motoring the 240 mile trip, because of a lack of wind.  I was half-wrong.  The second half. 


We left Thursday near noon.  By 2:30 pm  we were out of the marina channel on our way to Sabine Pass.  The Irwin has a 6'3" draft but the channel is only about 5 feet, at low tide, in the shallowest area.  We found it.... at low tide.  At this point we were thinking we might have to pull into Galveston or even Sabine Pass to re-provision.  We had not eaten yet but when you're stuck in the mud awaiting a rising tide, the best thing to do is indulge in liquid refreshment; thus, the shortage.

Sunset over Sabine Pass

We made it through Sabine Lake and cleared the Sabine Pass jetty at approximately 8:30 pm.  It was a beautiful night with light winds.  The sky was clear and I was reminded that stars exist. Our greatest concern was of unlit, abandoned oil rigs.   I've heard they exist but had doubt until Kelvin pointed one out, as I was taking my shift at the wheel.  It definitely put me on high alert and made me a better helmsman.

The only other faux pas that night was when one crew member was turning the helm over to another. Names will be changed, except for the innocent.  When crewman Larry handed the autopilot controller to crewman Curly, Curly accidentally hit the off button. When we recovered we had jibed the boat.  We checked the GPS to assure we were still following the rhumb line and after a few small adjustments we were right on it. During this series of events Moe (Kelvin) was slightly tossed down below and came out to see what was happening.  After noticing the boat was heeling differently and the wind coming from the opposite direction, he observed the GPS to reveal that though we were on the rhumb line, we were 180 degrees off... heading back to Port Arthur. No harm was done except for a couple of bruised egos and maybe a stretched ear.

Offshore Galveston

Offshore Galveston was spectacular.  Of course you could see beautifully lit Galveston, but the offshore sight was more amazing.  I couldn't begin to estimate the number of tankers and other ships moored awaiting their turn to enter the great Houston ship channel.  It reminded me of a large city, each ship being it's own city block.  It was a little unnerving sailing between the large anchored monsters but all was good.

With a cup of coffee

The remainder of the night was peaceful and beautiful, as was the next morning only to be improved with hot coffee.  Later that morning the wind began to increase.  It steadily increased to 20 knots lasting throughout the remainder of the day and night.  It made for a very fast but uncomfortable downwind run.  While attempting to furl the jib, it became twisted when crewmen Larry and Curly worked out of tandem.  Curly was furling and Larry providing resistance to the sheet, to prevent it from back-furling. That mistake put Larry and Moe on deck for a while until corrected.  Not so much fun in 7 to 8 foot seas with winds at 20 knots. No further details will be divulged.  Further entertainment was provided by Butch flying off his bunk during the night.  He handled it well and was re-bunked after 15 or 20 minutes.

Ship channels should be more concerned about visitors entering... for the first time... in the dark. Especially of the slapstick natured variety. Though our time of arrival was well planned for 8 am, we did not anticipate averaging over 7 knots per hour, during 200 offshore miles; thus, arriving at 4 am. Upon arrival what we saw were green lights, red lights, white lights, and many of those blinking. After lowering the mainsail, accidentally circling an anchored ship, and killing time awaiting daylight, we decided to go for it in the dark. Kelvin and I pretty much compromised, each with our separate digital charts and finally made it into the Aransas Pass Channel.

By the way, thanks Chuck.  We put your awesome binoculars to good use.  Upon entering the Corpus Christi Marina, we couldn't read the slip numbers without them, though only about 30 feet away. Your binoculars saved the day.

And thank you to the Corpus Christi Yacht club who honored our PAYC reciprocal rights, by housing us and providing coffee while awaiting our ride home.

Chalk it up to one step closer.