07 May 2025
SV Bluejay of Portsmouth approx. position off east coast Isle of Arran 55°29.773’ N 005°04.22’ W
Having had a lovey day ashore at Port Ellen (Islay) in Scotland, and a few whiskey samplings and tours of the famous distilleries, Bluejay is moving towards her final destination: Largs. Tonight we’ll anchor off Holy Island, just across from Arran, and tomorrow morning make quick work of getting onto a berth in the marina.
As we begin to turn out thoughts and actions towards shore, and a celebratory return to our families, friends and loved ones, we would like to take a few moments to reflect on our journey.
We have travelled in excess of 4000 nm, crossing 40 degrees of latitude and 55 degrees of longitude. In accordance with sailing traditions, all the crew have achieved the right to proudly display an anchor, which signifies a crossing of the Atlantic. Impressively, this journey was conducted using sextants, an ancient tool used by only the most accomplished sailors. A substantial achievement and immensely rewarding to all.
But the journey was more than just numbers and sights. Great passages such as this are always an opportunity for reflection, individually and collectively, and we hope the blogs have captured some of the beauty of our journey. More will be shared as stories are told, and photo are shared. However the one thing we won’t be able to share is the feeling of brotherhood we have developed. Amidst all of the opportunities and challenges, we were intensely conscious of the fact that in the middle of a great expanse of ocean, the only thing we had was the boat and each other. And everyone rose to the occasion. The relentlessness of the conditions, the grind of the watches, the lack of sleep – we were as liferafts for each other. And to have 12 complete strangers come together, sail almost ¼ of the way around the world with single-minded determination, unwavering good humour, and tireless devotion to the boat’s and each other’s well-being is a joyous reward we hope resonates with everyone.
While there’s usually those promises of keeping in touch, getting together, making future plans, we’re confident that our friendships will endure, and until we meet again, we will all go forward a bit better prepared to serve as a liferaft to everyone around us in our lives.
Thank you for reading, peace and love, and all the best for the future
The Crew of Bluejay Celestial Navigation 2025
May 3rd
Saturday 3 May, approximately off the coast of Ireland
In a couple of days, we will make landfall in Scotland, and next Thursday our celestial navigation crossing of the Atlantic will be over. Earlier blogs have surely told the story of life aboard Bluejay: glorious days sailing with dolphins dancing in our wake; wet, stormy nights requiring sail changes in the spray on the foredeck; moments of joy at the brief sighting of whales; and sadness for the fate of a homing pigeon lost hundreds of miles from shore.
How did ten random individuals from eight countries end up on this sixty-foot boat? Possibly our common love of sailing, a sense of adventure, and the desire to learn navigation using the stars and planets?
Rules onboard Bluejay prohibit discussing politics or religion, giving us the time to get to know each other—our lives, careers, and a little about our partners and families. One thing we seem to have in common is that our partners allow us the freedom to follow our dreams and passions. I feel that our partners are the stars that guide our journeys, just as Spica, Pollux, and Arcturus reveal our location and guide us onwards.
So, to our partners—thank you.
Charles
April 29 2025: 380 Miles from Ireland… and Missing You, Tina
I was told I could write as much as I wanted about how much I miss you, Tina, if I wrote a blog. Right now, we’re about 380 nautical miles southwest of Ireland. It looks like we’ll be close-hauled in north easterly winds all the way to Scotland, so imagine a constant 15-degree lean that feels more like 30. I’m currently wedged into the navigation station, both feet braced against the door frame, twisted 90 degrees to see the screen. The horizon is wild, empty seas in every direction.
A Brief Escape in the Azores
Before this wild ride north, I had an unexpected treat. While we were in the Azores, I flew over to São Miguel to visit friends from Australia I hadn’t seen in eight years. They moved to the island about four years ago,drawn by its safety, cleanliness, good healthcare, solid infrastructure, and reasonable cost of living. Just a three-hour flight from mainland Europe (and not much more to the U.S.), it’s easy to see the appeal. After a 55-minute flight from Horta to Ponta Delgada, they picked me up at the airport and we dove straight into the island’s beauty.
Whale Spotters and Sete Cidades
First stop: Whale’s Cove. Along the cliffs were lookout towers—simple, windmill-like stone structures where spotters once scanned the horizon for whales. The cove itself was peaceful and sheltered, with an old ramp still visible, once used to haul in whales for processing. Grim history, but fascinating.
We had a delicious (and far too large) lunch, then headed to Sete Cidades, a legendary volcanic crater filled with two lakes, one green and one blue. The volcano was draped in cloud when we arrived, but descending into the caldera revealed the vibrant lakes. There’s a tunnel 1.3km long, built in 1937 to regulate the lake level perfectly straight. You can see the light at the far end. Impressive, eerie, beautiful. That night, I slept in a real bed for the first time in a while. Eleven hours straight. They had to wake me up.
Hot Pools and Farewell
The next day, we explored the south of the island and visited Furnas, a charming village set inside another caldera, known for its hot springs. There, I experienced the magical bliss of hot water beam massages in a natural setting – pure serenity. Then it was time to head back to Horta and rejoin the boat.
Reflections from the North Atlantic
São Miguel felt like one enormous, immaculate park. Lawns mowed, bushes trimmed, walking trails everywhere. The people were warm and welcoming. It was hard to leave. And now, we’re back at sea, pitching and rolling our way through the North Atlantic Ocean. The next stop is Scotland, but home still feels a long way off. Happy Birthday, Tina. I love you endlessly.
Kuss, HP
28 April 2025 (Monday)
Approx. position: 44° 33’N 15° 53’W
As previously reported, Bluejay has been weaving her way around a stalled low-pressure system to our west. We’ve experienced a mixed bag of sea states – from big, lazy rollers on a starboard beam reach to confused, sloppy seas stirred up by erratic wind shifts and sudden gusts. The result? A crash course in gybing, reefing (and un-reefing), and the fine art of wrangling sails in ever-changing conditions. At present, we’re holding a lively beam reach, charging towards the southern tip of Ireland and angling to stay in the good graces of the wind gods. Beam reaches are always a trade-off between speed and comfort, so we’ve chosen speed, and plenty of it.
The temperature has dropped markedly. Most of the crew are now bundled up for North Atlantic spring, except for one holdout still defiantly in shorts, clinging to the fantasy that it’s still somewhere south of 40°N.
Our lunchtime educational briefings continue to be well-received. Today’s focus: reading the signs when navigating around a low-pressure system, what to expect and when. The watch leaders, all aiming for their RYA Yachtmaster Ocean certification, have taken the reins on delivering daily weather and passage planning updates. Upcoming sessions will dig into how magnetic compass bearings shift with time, and the ongoing migration of magnetic north, a slow but steady reminder that nothing stays fixed forever, especially at sea.
Below decks, the breadmaking arms race has escalated. Vitaly has inducted Dino into the “dark art” and a freshly baked loaf made a brief appearance at breakfast before vanishing entirely. Rumour has it the two are plotting midnight bakes while the rest of the crew sleeps. Watch this space…
27th April
Bazza’s Blog
It’s 0220 UT as I write this. We’re sailing 060 degrees at about 8 kts with quite a decent swell. It’s pitch black with only the compass light providing any semblance of light. Helming without any reference points is quite a challenge. You have to tune into the rhythm of the wave sets and counter steer to keep the boat under the mast and on course. We’re racing, but not against another boat. There’s a huge low pressure system right on the most direct route to Scotland. They rotate anti-clockwise and so the plan is to get to the East of the system so we can ride the southern winds up towards our destination.
We’re still going with the celestial navigation although it’s going to get more difficult as there’ll be plenty of cloud cover associated with the low pressure system.
We had a much-needed break on Horta – a beautiful island with friendly people and great food. We were all keen to get sailing again when we set off at dawn on Friday.
I made some soda bread yesterday which lasted about five minutes. It’s not as good as Vitalie’s loaves but there were no complaints. I hope the early watch remember to leave some for their crewmates. The Rubicon 3 Bake-off – it could be a thing!
We all got back into the swing of watch patterns. We’ve been swapped around which means we get to sail with different people. This afternoon we practiced making soft shackles.
Time to get back on deck.
Bazza x
20 April 2025
Bazza’s Birthday Blog
It’s my birthday today. My crewmates on Watch B sang Happy Birthday at 0500 boat time while we were on the 0400 to 0700 watch. The skipper baked a chocolate brownie cake and even put two candles in it for me to blow out. I stood at the wheel grinning like a fool – what a great start to the day. The thick cloud cover broke for a few minutes, and I was able to grab a quick sextant sight of Venus and the Moon. After a few hours’ sleep, I reduced the sights and plotted the results to give a fix of 38 deg 39 min North, 34 deg 5 min West. Just a couple of 100 miles to go to the Azores after an amazing 2000 plus from Antigua, all done by celestial navigation.
As a special treat, my watch let me sit out preparing lunch, and there was more singing at lunchtime, which was very touching. Vitalie is baking bread, which is making me hungry even though I’ve just eaten.
There’s been lots of time to reflect on things, particularly during the night watches. A massive sky full of stars, the sea all around to the horizon and the predictably unpredictable motion of the boat tend to set your mind running. I miss my wife, Ellen – I’d love for her to share this with me, but she’s not a massive fan of boating. Still, we’ll be able to catch up when we arrive in Horta. I’ve asked for a boat for my birthday, LOL.
I’ve made some good friends on this trip and so celebrating my birthday with my new-found mates has been a great experience. Every day I learn something new about sailing and about myself. It looks like we’ll get to spend a few days on Horta for some much-needed shore time and then the adventure starts all over again with a passage to Scotland.
19 April 2025
SV Bluejay approx. position 39° 03’N 037° 6’W.
Bluejay has emerged from a lively overnight sailing where all the crew had the opportunity to test their foul-weather gear! We continue eastward towards the Azores – now approx. 400 miles off our bow with a high-pressure system building ahead of us. The sun broke through around lunchtime today, and there was a furious rush to grab sextants and take sightings – and the inevitable queue to use the salon table to complete sight reductions and get an accurate position. In addition, the crew continue to be delighted with sightings of more dolphins, whales, sea birds and bioluminescence at night.
The lunchtime educational briefings continue to prove of value – today’s session focused on passage planning. Did you know that a well-prepared plan includes shore-based contacts, knowing where you are going and when you expect to arrive?
The crew were delighted to receive the 1st loaf of freshly baked bread today, courtesy of V! We’re hoping other crew members will take up baking bread!
Answer to previous Trivia Q: The 8 competent crew knots are: round turn and 2 half hitches; bowline; clove; reef; stopper knot; rolling hitch; figure of 8; and sheet bend.
Fun Fact! Bluejay was originally commissioned as one of the Clipper Round-The-World Race (RTW) boats for the 1st edition in 1996. This fleet of Colvic Craft (Colchester, UK) boats completed 3 RTW editions before the introduction of the Clipper 68s. Bluejay is a proven and reliable bluewater expedition boat that continues to offer world-class sailing voyages!
18 April 2025 (Good Friday) – Celestial Miles and Knotty Nights: Bluejay’s Northward Push
Approx. position: 38° 22’N 041° 0.0W
Having passed through a very calm (and windless) patch of high pressure, we are making good progress north and eastward towards the Azores – our intended stop on the journey towards Largs, Scotland. We have sailed 1,730 miles (close enough for government work!) to date, as best we can determine using pencils, paper, sextants (and clock). The crew have been busy taking navigation sightings as well as those of moonrises, navigating by the stars, and occasional dolphins, whales, and other vessels. There was even talk of ordering pizza – pizza being the common denominator of the seven different languages spoken aboard – from our nearest neighbours, but delivery from the International Space Station was deemed problematic. So beans are back on the dinner menu!
It’s gratifying watching all the crew work together to improve the standard of seamanship. We have an impressive amount of experience on board, beyond that of the highly qualified skipper and mate. In addition to qualified RYA Yachtmaster Ocean (YMO) and Day Skippers, we have four YMO and two Competent Crew candidates. The crew have been enjoying evening ‘Knotty Boyz’ watches where we practise our knots in the dark and one-handed. Every day is a learning experience! It makes a nice break from the usual banter associated with rummaging for resources, precious knitting, or whether your bunk is so small it must have been ordered online!
Trivia Q: Do you know the names of the eight Competent Crew knots?
Answer next time!
April 17 2025. Halfway There: Bluejay Between Antigua and the Azores
036° 02.211N, 044° 39.416W / Course: 53° @ 7.1 knots
We’re about halfway across now. Somewhere between the heat of the Caribbean and the rugged welcome of the Azores. The middle stretch. The place where time can see to disappear and days roll into one. We’ve been through three different oceans, all without leaving the Atlantic. First, the trade winds. Soft, warm, forgiving. Bluejay moved like she was meant to with her sails full, crew light-hearted, the miles ticking by almost too easily. Then the rhythm shifted. The tail end of a low brushed past. The skies dimmed, the sea state built, and we had to get our heads back in it. Not hard, but not easy either. Just enough to remind us this is the real Atlanic Ocean. Now we’re in the Azores High, where the sea flattens out and the wind disappears. We’re finally motor sailing to keep us moving. One eye on the fuel. One ear on the engine. It should be off in a couple of hours anyway as the wind rebuilds
This is of course all navigated by celestial nav only. No GPS, no screens. Just the crew with sextants trying to pin down where we are on the planet. Yesterday, five crew got solid fixes, even with the overcast conditions. They’re figuring it out by the day. Sun shots, lots of them, but now also the moon, Venus, bits of sky you miss when you have Google Earth in your pocket. Each night, we take the day’s fixes, spread them out in the chart table’s soft light, and start looking for the route they’re trying to tell. We adjust the DR, log the position, and see if it all adds up. So far, no emergency calls from HQ, which means we’re probably still more or less on track! Azores in a few days? Still the plan.
This afternoon, dolphins showed up for the first time this trip, making their long arcs under the bow, quick flashes of silver. They’re gone before the moment even settles in, but they were there, with us in the middle of the Atlantic and we saw them, and that matters more than it should. There’s real a rhythm to the crew now and to this part of the ocean. We’re all tuned to every sound and every change in the conditions. Every fix, every meal, every glance at the horizon has purpose. This is the most wonderful Atlantic sailing.
Blog Entry 1 April 11 2025
The celestial navigation crossing of the Atlantic Ocean on Bluejay is underway. After two days of intensive classroom training in Antigua with Bruce, the crew was more than ready to get out on the ocean and start putting theory into practice. On Tuesday, we slipped lines, hoisted sail, and pointed the bow north for the long passage to Scotland, navigating the old way, without GPS, using just sextants, the sun, the stars, and a few sharp pencils.
Conditions couldn’t have been better so far. Classic champagne sailing with bright blue skies, white sails drawing cleanly, and a steady breeze driving Bluejay forward at 7 to 8 knots. The yacht is in her element. We’ve been charging up the western flank of the Azores High, aiming to position ourselves for a clean swing east once we reach the top of the system. A Bermuda stop was an early option, but the forecast closed that door. We’re going direct to the Azores.
The crew has settled in fast. A few early cases of seasickness, as expected, but most are finding their sea legs and leaning into the rhythm of life at sea. The watch system – on watch, off watch, and standby – is working well. Everyone’s learning to make the most of their new routine and find the moments of calm between sail changes and log entries. Night watches in particular have been a standout, steering under moonlight, scanning the sky for familiar constellations, and watching the Milky Way stretch across the black Atlantic sky.
The real focus, though, is celestial navigation. Every day brings more sextant practice. For many, just bringing the sun down to the horizon cleanly is a major win and a breakthrough moment that turns the theory into something real. We’ve already got some sun-run-sun fixes plotted, and they’re surprisingly accurate. There’s a quiet satisfaction in figuring out where you are, using nothing but the sky. We’re starting to prep for star and planet sights now: Mars, Jupiter, and more. Each reading is a step further away from electronics and closer to something timeless.
On deck, it’s been lively. Bluejay is constantly powered up and heeling at 30 degrees. Moving around takes some agility, and galley duty is a contact sport meaning chopping vegetables on the lean, dodging flying mugs, and trying to keep hot pans from sliding off the stove. But spirits are very high. The crew are hands-on, involved, and pushing themselves in all the right ways. We marked Vitaliy’s birthday today with cake and a round of singing, adding some extra fun to the pace of life offshore.
Now several hundred miles from land, it’s starting to hit. No AIS targets. No shipping. Just ocean. In every direction. Out here, things slow down. The distractions are gone. You start to notice the small details such as the sound of water under the hull, the exact moment the sun touches the sea at sunset, the constellations rising one by one after dark. It’s hard not to feel it – the scale of it all, the remoteness, the calm that comes with being this far removed from the noise of everyday life. There’s something utterly spectacular about it.
We’ve got more days of life on the lean before we make our turn east. The wind’s still holding, Bluejay is powering forward, and the crew is locked in: helming, navigating, fixing positions by the sun, and experiencing the Atlantic the way sailors once did. One sight at a time!
