They arrived at Liberty Landing, across from Ground Zero, around 3:00 p.m. later that day only to be struck by their first series of setbacks. Ashley ripped
open her thumb on an icy cleat while docking and required a five hour emergency room visit and nine stitches. The resulting delay closed their weather window with gale force winds and the extreme cold of an Alberta Clipper forecast to arrive a few days ahead. So, there they sat, delayed before really getting started.

Quite coincidentally they were only a mile away from Captain Sullenberger’s amazing crash landing of U.S. Airlines Flight 1549 in the Hudson that Thursday, very grateful for the heroic and miraculous rescue, and for the mere three days that separated them from the real possibility of being directly in the path of the ditching plane.

A week later, on January 20, Inauguration Day, they saluted the Statue of Liberty farewell, bound for warmer Virginia with a fair current, a twenty knot quartering
breeze, and subfreezing temperatures. Well prepared for the extreme cold, they were warm and cozy below deck thanks to a diesel-burning furnace  mounted on the bulkhead, and tolerably comfortable on deck in appropriate dress. Faced with another short, but hopefully do-able weather window, they decided that given the time of year, they better go for it.

In the middle of the third night the winds picked up to thirty knots and the waves reached six to eight feet. While Chris was on deck in the frigid air reefing the main, the wind generator exploded, sending the carbon fiber blades whizzing past his head. For the next twelve hours they were healed over, taking water over the deck and freezing. During another routine check of the foredeck Chris got soaked up to his armpits in the ice-cold Atlantic by a boarding sea.

They eventually arrived in Hampton, Virginia, around 2:00 a.m. of the fourth night and tied up to a fuel dock too exhausted to break the ice off the anchor gear. In spite of the difficulties, a tremendous sense of relief and accomplishment set in as they realized they had broken out of winter’s frozen grip, and were finally on their way around the world. Chris’s understated comment was, “No pain, no gain.” Courage and Cool

After a few days thawing out in the near fifty degree weather, waiting for the wind generator to be repaired, they set out to round Cape Hatteras bound for Beaufort, North Carolina. It was a thirty-six hour, twenty-five knot down wind ride next to the warmer waters of the Gulfstream, and the toughest parts were entering the Beaufort Channel at night and not having any luck fishing. It was a short stay, but they had time to make friends with a Swiss cruising couple in a homemade steel boat who were home schooling their young son and a professional delivery crew of a very large sailing yacht out of Newport who made the late season trip in just  two days. They were beginning to get into the cruising groove, feeling pretty good about the voyage ahead as they set out for Port Royal, South Carolina. Little did they know, near total At first winds were light; then they died, forcing them to motor. The fishing was better, the fresh-caught tuna delicious.

The winds picked up but shifted out of the south forcing them to beat to windward. Then the winds got stronger as a forty knot gale developed with eight foot
seas running in four second intervals. It was like continuously slamming into concrete blockhouses. Ashley reported, “…we were double reefed with only our
staysail…We were still making six knots on our course, but Mooneshine was taking a beating. We had waves boarding the boat…It was rough going but
everything was under control.”

Later that afternoon as they neared Charleston, Chris went below and luckily noticed a starboard chain plate supporting the mast had moved vertically about an inch up the bulkhead which was beginning to crack under the stress. Knowing the mast would crash overboard as soon as the chain plate came through the deck, he immediately jibed to take the wind pressure off the wounded stays. He then wisely called the Coast Guard to inform them of the damage, but indicated he was not requesting assistance…yet. They hove to on the port tack for ten hours in the gale off Charleston realizing it was too rough to attempt a landfall at night with a crippled boat. They spent the time planning jury rigged repairs which were carried out at first light. It took all day to limp into Charleston Harbor. Even though they limped in, they were limping under their own steam, under their own courage and cool thinking.

The reason for the failure was a rotten bulkhead caused by water seeping down the chain plate over many years. Although Chris replaced all the chain plates with new ones and bullet proofed every deck seal as part of the refit, the damage was hidden below the Formica laminate on the bulkhead, unbeknownst to him. As Ashley said on their blog, “They [the rotted sections of bulkhead] were surviving on borrowed time…. There is major damage, which will take lots of skilled labor to fix...Mooneshine will sail again, but not for awhile.” Onward and Outward At first it was depressing. As Chris reported after apologizing for not posting updates for nearly a month, “It… [is] crushing...Here we are, ready to take on the world and we can’t make it further than Charleston!”

In time, however, they began to realize that if this had to happen at all, it was fortunate it happened in Charleston rather than somewhere in the middle of the South Pacific. Most importantly Charleston offered excellent repair facilities. Chris contacted his old friend, Steve Perry, a well respected Hudson River yacht surveyor and cruising enthusiast, who had been keeping track of the voyage through the Mooneshine Blog and by cell phone. Steve, who was involved in the extensive pre-voyage refit, gave offsight advice regarding procedures and materials; and Chris, who has extensive knowledge and experience himself, executed the repairs.

A secondary benefit was the charming and hospitable atmosphere of Charleston, the jewel of the south, where they easily met new friends and even received an unexpected visit from a favorite uncle. Soon they were part of the local cruising community, joining in local races as  guest crew on other boats.

After spending a month completing the repairs, however, Chris set off for the Virgin Islands alone, Ashley and he having decided to go their separate ways.
Chris was now alone at sea for the first time in his life during the longest leg of this season’s voyage, fifteen hundred miles and eleven days on the open ocean, something he’d been dreaming about his whole life.

He told us, “I freaked out a little the first few days, getting stir crazy and paranoid. By the seventh day I was adjusted and ready to do a lot more…I am better off for the experience.” During this leg he kept in touch with Todd Traver of Croton, N.Y., via single-side band radio. Todd, coincidentally, is a long-time friend of mine as
well. He keeps a Contessa 26 sloop in Croton’s Senasqua Park Mooring Field where I have also kept a few boats over the years. He and I also shared many
a watch on several Marion to Bermuda ocean races. A grateful Chris complimented Todd’s efforts by stating, “I was in contact with Todd Traver every night
through the SSB. This was a huge boost mentally.”

During the solo voyage Chris gradually acquired a cruiser’s mindset and gained additional confidence. He slept at regular intervals trusting his new AIS system to warn him of any approaching traffic. He admitted “there were some close calls with shipping and a few gear failures, but [he concluded] in the end I would do it all again.” Relaxed and Reassured Chris enjoyed his island time in Saint Thomas and the Virgins, and his sense of himself as a voyager continued to  grow as he basked in the warm sun  and tropical waters. He was visited by his dear stepmother Diana, and he described the time as “very nice, unbelievable actually”.

He also realized, “it was good to see a friendly face after so many miles…It was sad to see her leave.” Additionally he reported, “[On] Saturday a man stopped by Mooneshine and introduced himself as David White. He is one of (sic) if not the most famous American solo sailors of all time. I didn’t have to explain to him why I did the trip solo or my future plans because he’s been in my shoes many times over the years.

Chris continued saying, “He [David White] was instrumental in organizing the first ‘Around Alone’ Race in which Mooneshine competed; he knew Francis Stokes and Mooneshine very well. It was an honor and a learning experience to meet him.” Stokes, the original owner of Chris’s boat, sailed it to distinction in this early circumnavigation race and became the first American ever to complete such an event.

Chris spent over two months in the Virgin Islands. During that time he continued to get comfortable with the lifestyle he has chosen. Anchored off Honeymoon Beach on Water Island he reported going swimming every morning and swinging in his deck hammock reading Hemingway as the sun went down. He also diligently attended to the routine maintenance of the boat and prepared for the next leg.

Cartagena Y Espanol
As hurricane season approached in mid-June, Chris knew it was time to move below the storm belt. He scrapped his original plans to hold over in Trinidad and Tobago learning on the cruiser’s net of rampant crime, unfriendly locals, skyrocketing prices, and uncooperative  officials. He concluded, “I don’t want to encourage them with negative reinforcement.”

He discovered, much to his surprise, that Cartagena, Columbia, is a rising cruising destination, due to new cooperation between the Columbian and U.S. Coast Guards to patrol of the entire coast line in a serious campaign to weed out the drug trafficking and crime. Putting some lingering reservations aside, Chris concluded, “The whole point of this trip is to educate myself on different cultures and form my own opinions, [and] I’m super excited to learn some Spanish… [So] ‘Here we
go…Hasta luego amigos’.”

With a plan to keep in regular contact with Todd Traver back in Croton, “my only human contact out in the middle of the god damn ocean”, and the last minute
acquisition of two crew members, Coleen and Rob, he shoved off for the nine hundred mile, six day voyage on Saturday, June 13. His hope to set a new speed record for the passage was frustrated by a few days of light wind which were then offset by several days of strong down wind sailing and big seas. Chris called it, “…the most comfortable I’ve ever experienced on Mooneshine…with the wind and the waves going with us…Most of the circumnavigation promises to be much the same [because most of the time, he will be following the trade winds around the world].”

He continued by saying, “The fourth day out we saw the biggest seas Mooneshine and I have seen yet. She handled them admirably. The wind was dead behind us, as were the waves which reached fifteen feet…breaking onto the stern…I think only a handful managed to make their way into the cockpit. I think the top speed was
surfing at 12.1 knots.” Chris spent four months in Cartagena. At first he found it a tremendous culture shock, “…being badgered every minute by people trying to sell us… [everything].” Gradually as his knowledge of Spanish improved, he began to appreciate the people, the architecture and the culture. He reported, “The city is a fortress, with huge coral/ stone walls everywhere. The night life is outrageous and many of the people are very beautiful.” In preparation for the island groups
and coral atolls of the Pacific, he cruised through the nearby Rosario Islands to become familiar with the visual intricacies of reef navigation which he described as “nerve-racking, but also very, very rewarding.” He bartered for free, professional SCUBA training which he described as, “a high point of my life… [He realized] I will
be passing through places with pristine ecosystems and thriving reefs…[And he concluded] I want to see them with my own eyes.” He also visited the city’s main sights, immersed himself in the culture, and seemed to evolve through his experiences.

He observed, “I would consider myself a traveler… [I have] embraced the state of mind…Cartagena is the rawest exposure to reality I’ve experienced. It’s pointed out things about myself (sic) that are priceless. I hope to keep learning and growing.” Panama and the San Blas Islands On October 17 Chris set out for the beautiful San Blas Islands off the coast of Panama, which “… are said to be one of the best cruising destinations in the world” according to his research. His plan was to explore the pristine region and position Mooneshine for the eventual passage through the canal in the early spring of 2010.

The two day, one hundred eighty mile leg was slow, mostly motoring, with an adverse current and very choppy, confused seas. He told us, “I watched a wicked cloud formation the second night that reminded me of the Tasmanian devil…[and in the]…morning Central America and Panama were in view as the sun rose.” He arrived at an anchorage called “The Swimming Pool,” a crowded area known for its “social scene,” of which he wanted no part, preferring to be “off by myself”.
After two days of “cooking, cleaning, and getting into the groove,” he started his exploration of the beautiful islands and reefs, keeping mostly to himself, except when interacting with the local people known as Kunas and befriending a pelican who he invited to be part of the crew for awhile. At Coco Bandero Cay he met some fellow cruisers from Cartagena, Scott and Laurie of “S/V Excuse Me”, who just happen to be electrical engineers by profession and who helped him iron out some battery issues and taught him quite a bit in the process.

One of the great fears of solo voyages is an injury that occurs alone in an isolated area, and this became a reality for Chris while anchored at Green Island. While taking the carburetor apart on the dinghy engine he dropped a small but vital plastic piece in the water. And as he reported, “…I dove for it, and at about 25 feet my left ear drum popped. [There’s] nothing like that rush of warm saltwater into the inner ear. I had tunnel vision closing in on my way back to the surface. I got into the dinghy in case I passed out and took a breather.” He continued, “That was really painful the first night…sleeping in the hammock rocking back and forth to relieve some of the pressure. [But] I got the 2 cent plastic [piece] and the dinghy is golden again.” He recovered with dosages of antibiotics, but it was a slow recovery with lingering pain that curtailed his swimming and diving. Another fear is dragging anchor, and Chris found out what that is like too. It happened in the East Lemon Cays while anchored off Banedup Island among a cruising community of some twenty odd boats where regular volley ball games, fires on the beach at night and great
cookouts of octopus, conch and lobster made life a paradise.

He related the events this way: “Last night I was in bed dreaming about a boat going aground onto a reef in a bad squall. At the same time a squall actually
hit…Mooneshine was thrown aground during a big gust…I woke up, (sic) for a minute I wasn’t sure if I was still dreaming. The boat was healed over (sic) and
the depth sounder showed 3 feet under us. A flash light…revealed all the vibrant colors of the reef. The rain was cold and stung, (sic) it was pitch black. I had to
wait for the massive lightning strikes to show me the islands and the other boats [to] get my bearings… [I felt like] I had to be dreaming… [but] …I wasn’t.”
He continued by saying, “I gunned the engine (sic) and Mooneshine crawled off the reef. Alone in the pitch black and rain, surrounded by reefs…I had to reanchor.
I ran the forty foot length of the boat in a second flat several times to accomplish this. Then I used the dinghy to deploy a second anchor as a back up.
I didn’t go to [sic] asleep again ‘till the next day.”

As he continued to wander around the islands Chris reported “retracing some of my old steps” and spending “more time around the Kunas…learning how to
represent myself to people from a completely different culture and background”. He told of helping a Kuna family that was desperate to get to another island a mere
seven miles away so they could get to work on time. He was amazed that the mother who is the principal of the school on the isle of Carti was refused a ride by
the locals because they could make more money shuttling tourists.

This was how he told it. “I woke up at 5:30, day break, shuttled them all by dinghy and ulu (a local craft) onto Mooneshine: a mother and her three children, an uncle, a cook, a neighbor and me. It was their first time on a sailboat, but we didn’t sail. We motored directly into the wind as the sun rose over Kuna Yala. I don’t mean to make it sound epic, but it was. Passing by these tiny tropical islands and watching the clouds sweep down the huge mountains of Panama. A gringo and what seemed like a village of Kunas, some in full traditional dress.” It’s a testament to Chris’s personal journey that he also added, “They gave me permission to take pictures, but instead I just blinked a lot. I didn’t want a trophy of sorts. I got them there five minutes late. If I was a kid in that school, I would have cursed me, ‘the Denounced Saint Christopher that made school happen that day’.”

Respect, dignity, and humility, surely are things we need more of in this life. As of last report Chris was “off Panama” after “comfortably scooting along at an average of 7.2 knots.” He did not sleep all night because, as he said, “these are some of the densest shipping lanes in the world (sic) and I have to keep an eye out. We are going fast, but the ride is smooth. Nice. There is a sliver of moon out tonight, giving me a nice amount of light. I baked some chocolate chip cookies for this trip, mmmmm. I’ll have French onion soup and Kuna bread for dinner. I’m rocking out to techno music my buddy Rob Foster made me. I’ll be at Shelter Bay Marina [at the entrance to the Panama Canal] by early morning at this speed, sweet.” All I can add, from all of us at Boating on the Hudson & Beyond and, I trust, from all the loyal readers of this column is: “Sail-on Sailor.” Before closing, I would like to acknowledge the help of my friends Todd Traver and Steve Perry for their firsthand information as well as the efforts of Chris’s number one cheerleader, Diana Connolly, for her assistance in obtaining the photos.

By the way, if you like, you can follow Captain Chris Connolly’s voyage around the world directly through his blog @ www.sailblogs.com/member/ mooneshineblogs