Crossing the Atlantic: Las Palmas to the Caribbean

The Atlantic crossing started in light airs out of Las Palmas, following the Moroccan coastline south — a stretch of ocean that turned out to be more eventful than the wind speed suggested.

A Visit From the Moroccan Coast Guard

A patrol boat closed in on AIS not far into the passage — standard procedure, most likely checking for smugglers, whether people, drugs, or otherwise. They asked us to report back if we spotted any suspicious activity of our own, then moved on. The one piece of feedback that stuck: our New Zealand courtesy flag was too small — a genuine problem to solve, since a properly sized NZ flag isn’t an easy thing to track down on this side of the world.

A Sail Built for a Different Boat

On one of the stillest days of the crossing — four knots of wind, three knots of boat speed, sunglasses required — Oliver hoisted a small staysail while on watch, sailing Paikea double-headed for a while. The sail itself wasn’t built for Paikea at all — Oliver and Harry had made it together for the little Gos 16 dinghy they’d been sailing at the boatyard, and Oliver rigged it up here more as a proof of interest than a real addition to the sail plan. Tiny on a boat this size, but a clear sign of where his head’s at. (The full story of that Gos 16 project — and the wardrobe of homemade sails Harry and Oliver put it through — is its own post: Boatyard Boredom? Not for These Two Young Sailors.)

Conditions built through other stretches of the passage too, with the boat surfacing at up to 17 knots at times and holding an average around 14 — enough to have some fun on board chasing an informal record for the fastest average crossing speed with the youngest crew aboard.

Solar Power, Winter Sun, and a Genuine Engine Compromise

Heading south in winter months brought a real power problem: the solar panels, mounted on the hardtop, spent most of the day in shade from the low winter sun, and by early afternoon were producing next to nothing. The result was having to run the engine to keep batteries charged — always a disappointment on a boat where avoiding engines and generators is the preference, not the exception. One thing that helped: running a gas-and-induction combo hob meant meals didn’t draw on battery power at all, leaving what charge there was to go toward navigation systems instead.

Watching the Kids Find Their Sea Legs

Part of what made this crossing worth documenting was watching how differently the kids responded to it. Oliver was thoroughly in his element throughout — the staysail and solo watch were typical of him. Aidan was genuinely nervous at points along the way (not helped by a stretch of rough footage from his own camera work, unsteady enough to make a few people on board queasy just watching it back) — and that’s worth being honest about rather than glossing over. By the end of the crossing, though, everyone had grown in confidence — not just in themselves, but in Paikea herself.

In This Series

This is chapter 3 of an 11-part story — three thousand miles, eighteen days, and a rudder lost 800 miles from land. See the full crossing on The Canary Islands to the Caribbean: A Full Atlantic Crossing, or continue to Part 2: Mid-Atlantic Repairs and Growing Crew.

Read it in order: