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Leg 2 Beaufort, NC USA to Jacksonville, FL USA Offshore

Sunset at sea, before things got ugly... The passage started as most of them do - fine weather and great spirits. The crew consisted of me, and Carl - an experienced offshore passagemaker; Hank and Pat W.. - mostly Chesapeake Bay/Potomac River sailors and avid racers. Topped off the fuel tanks and headed out Beaufort Inlet, scheduled destination Ft Lauderdale. Winds were from the NW, light. We had a favorable forecast for the next 2-3 days, a high pressure system moving through. The plan was to follow the 10 fathom line down the coast. We continued along, spotting dolphins, dodging the occasional freighter, sailing some, but mostly using the engine. At time the water seemed absolutely flat, with less motion than the Chesapeake Bay. We rounded Frying Pan shoals at 0230 on the 16th. At 5:00pm on 11/16 (Thursday) we got a forecast for winds of 20-25 knots and bigger waves. We put our heads together and decided to continue on - after all 25 kts was not that bad, right? - hell, I've singlehanded in 25 kts on the bay! At midnight, when I came topsides to find the wind had increased to 20 as advertised and we were really bouncing around. The wind and seas continued to build and the ride started to get pretty rough. Hank became seasick and I was not feeling great myself. We decided was made to make for the inlet at Jacksonville, rather than continue bashing into the wind and waves to try for Hilton Head (which we would get to after dark, then have to wait for dawn to run the inlet) or try for any of the Georgia inlets. With the wind predicted to shift we hoped for a reach or run eventually to smooth out the ride. What followed was 25 kts of wind gusting to 30 at times with us beating most of the way towards Jacksonville. Pat W. became ill and none of us were able to eat much. I was hating every minute of the ride, and becoming very concerned with Hank and Pat W.'s condition - with Hank very ill and Pat W. weak and not much better. I was doing OK, but not able to do much below without getting queasy. Topsides I was fine. Other than not being able to eat, Carl was fine. We were screaming along, making 7.5 knots with the main double reefed and the 90 jib rolled up halfway, with an uncomfortable amount of heel and 4-8 ft seas. At times it was exhilarating. The boat handled it like a champ!! I never felt that we were in danger, but I was concerned about the state of the crew, and cumulative exhaustion as none of us were sleeping or eating very much. I was standing my watches vowing never to go offshore again!! This is NOT fun!! But the wind did shift and we were able to reach more with the winds calming to 10-15 as we approached the St Johns River at dawn. As the wind and waves calmed down our sick crew revived very quickly and we were all pretty chipper as we pulled into the Pablo Creek Marina on the ICW near Jacksonville. These conditions were not particularly severe as offshore sailing goes, it actually sounds pretty tame writing it down - but is was pretty impressive to me, having never experienced it before. It was the bashing and severe motion of the boat that was the real problem, feeling not exactly sick, but not well. It seemed that just when you had the rhythm down a random motion would slam you against the bulkhead. Nobody had an appetite and we were concentrating on staying hydrated. It was hard to watch my friends absolutely sick and out of it - getting up to throw up and go stand watch or at least try to. Then come back down afterwards, throw up again and go to bed. They were miserable and all we could do for them was get to a safe port as quickly as possible, easing the motion as the wind shifted. I'm now sitting in the marina, 12 hours after arriving - listening to the pop and crackle of shrimp on the hull; clean and fed, boat cleaned up, my crew gone home and wondering what I can take away from this mess. The 'never again' feeling is fading with the memory of the unpleasant parts, with the memory of the good parts prevailing - the incredible stars on the first night watch, and the dolphins cavorting in the wake during the day. Feeling like I was flying through the night, hiding from the wind and the spray under the dodger with the black, foam specked water making an incredible roaring sound as it rushed past 10 feet from my face. An absolutely unbelievable experience. Even during the last night watch, cold and tired, watching the lights of Jacksonville ahead, getting closer by the minute, knowing that we would be docked soon with hot showers, food and sleep - what a wonderful sight. I emerge with a much greater respect for the sea and the weather; greater confidence in my boat; and a sharper awareness of my own limitations. I do not desire to cross oceans or circle the globe... but perhaps another short hop, well planned with a good weather window... :-) Sorry, no pics! Taking photos was the last thing I was worried about, besides there not being too much out there to take pictures of...