Great Log of First Attempt
One thing for sure, it's really easy to get pumped-up for a trip and what you went through on the first attempt is similar to some of the experiences we've had. In a way, it makes the second attempt much more rewarding.In flying they say that "trouble comes in bunches" and that's something to watch out for because that's how accidents are made. You mentioned about being without sleep and the stiching on the jib was coming apart - those are two "troubles" right there, and then with the added rough sea state and sailing conditions you didn't need much more before the cumulative effect would have added up.I remember one time we tried to cross Queen Charlotte Sound and the forcasted westerly never materialized. The problem is the distance was so great that to motor it would have burned up a lot of our fuel so, that plus the large swells that came from two directions that gave the boat a sickening motion, I decided to turn around and go back. That decision meant that we'd arrive at the closest "anchorage" in Fitzhugh Sound (just a slight indent in the coastline around the inside of Cape Calvert, one that was exposed to SW winds, however, but with the NW winds it was okay). We'd arrive sometime around 11 PM in the dark with no moon but there was a navigation light fairly close by (not for visability but to help with location). Anyway, after turning around, on the way back, the wind started to pick up out of the W-NW which provided a broad reach, the formerly glassy surface changed fairly quickly to white caps and it wasn't long before we were running at over hull speed. At this point we were really glad we made the right decision to turn around - but the night was still young!Navigating to avoid the various charted rocks we finally rounded Cape Calvert and entered Fitzhugh Sound where the waves abated as we were in the lee of Calvert Island. We dropped the hook in about 40ft on a ledge on the southeast point of the island. The exposed anchorage was a bit rolly.After having dinner and listening to the weather forcast before we hit the sack we learned that SW gale-force winds were expected! Well, by now it was around midnight and totally pitch dark - what to do? We weighed anchor and headed about 10 nm further north up Fitzhugh Sound to small closed-in bay that we came across a couple years earlier. The wind started building up out of the SSE (another broad reach) and by the time we got to the entrance the seas had really built up with whitecaps. It was really dark as turned to enter the bay and the wind and waves were beam-to. We navigated the narrow rock-strewn entrance into 'our' small bay and dropped the hook. By now it was around 2AM and we were totally exhausted. For the past several days we had pushed ourselves and really couldn't take much more. The decision to abort crossing Queen Charlotte Sound was a really good one as was leaving our first anchorage. Anchored in this small bay with the steep side slopes densely covered by the forest with the wind howling in the rigging, but not near as bad as "outside", we felt very secure, ever so glad that we did what we did.One can only imagine what it might have been like out there on Queen Charlotte Sound with the left-over swells we'd experienced earlier, added to being clobbered by westerly on the nose, and then the gale-force southeaster. It would have been like being in a washing machine. The Charlottes would be there for another day.The moral of this story is to trust your instincts - if it doesn't feel right then go with plan B.Well, Brian, I'm looking forward to the next installment of your great trip. Bahamas in a 25-footer, that's good! And a trailerable one at that!