A week on a heel: From the Bahamas to Bermuda
We’re heading north-east from Conception Island in the Bahamas to Bermuda. It’s a straight 770 nautical miles from the Bahamas to Bermuda. For the first five days, we sail close-hauled in relatively steady winds of 10–15 knots – and are heeling over accordingly – before the calm catches up with us. Thanks to the current in our favour and little swell, we still manage to sail very slowly, and after several hours the wind returns. For the last day and a half, we sail on a broad reach and downwind. Overall, it was a very pleasant crossing with almost no engine hours. We also pass the 10,000-nautical-mile mark on our journey – a reason to celebrate!
Bermuda greets us initially with stormy winds, so we stay on board for another full day before we can visit the streets of St George with its colourful stone houses.
Our crossing from the Bahamas to Bermuda in figures:
Distance: 801 nautical miles, of which under sail: 797 nautical miles
Engine hours: 1 hour 20 minutes
Passage time: 6 days 16 hours 51 minutes
Average speed: 5.0 knots
Flying fish on deck: 8 + one in the bathroom
Bahamas - Bermuda Day 1
Thu May 21, 2026 20:35:00 GMT-0400 (Eastern Daylight Time)
Due to the higher probability of thunderstorms forecast for the next two days, we spend a long time debating whether we really want to set sail today. On the other hand, we don’t want to get caught in the front with stronger north winds just before Bermuda, which are expected to set in around May 30–31. However, the sky is currently clear and the wind isn’t too strong. So at 2:40 p.m., we finally weigh anchor. We stop by one last time to see Carolyn and Doug, who have shown us around Conception Island over the past few days, and wave goodbye. It’s always amazing how strangers can grow so dear to your heart in just a few days.
Once outside the bay, we hoist the sails (both on the second reef) and sail north first to get past the long reef. Only then can we turn more toward the northeast. The wind is blowing at 16–17 knots, and of course we have to sail close-hauled (50 degrees to the apparent wind). As always, Vaquita feels right at home on this course, while we have to get used to the motion again. The motion is too much for our pumpkin as well, and it promptly bids us farewell and flies from our vegetable net into the blue North Atlantic. That’s why we’re having just some quick ramen for dinner.
Distance to Bermuda: 770 nautical miles
Dinner: Ramen
Bahamas - Bermuda Day 2
Fri May 22, 2026 17:40:00 GMT-0400 (Eastern Daylight Time)
The night begins under a starry sky. The wind varies between 10 and 18 knots. Around 3 a.m., more clouds roll in, and we’re heading straight toward a particularly dark one (you can even see it at night after the moon has set again). It doesn’t take long before we’re in the middle of a heavy rain shower. The wind is very gusty, so we reef the headsail a bit more. We also see a few flashes of lightning, and once the thunder rolls relatively close. Fortunately, it’s not a major storm, and the wind doesn’t exceed 20 knots, but we sail through the rain for about an hour before the stars reappear in all their glory.
The morning is sunny, and we pass the time by alternating between sleeping, listening to music, and singing along at the top of our lungs. Out in the middle of the ocean, no one can hear us anyway.
We’re making good, surprisingly direct progress toward Bermuda. In the early afternoon, we’re visited again by a small rain cloud and get slowed down a bit. We use the calm to cook our ramen using our excess solar power. Although we’re already 70 nm from the nearest island, we still see quite a few birds. As the day goes on, there are fewer birds and more flying fish.
Yesterday, the Atlantic Rally for Cruisers (ARC) set sail from Bermuda toward Europe. It’s a very popular rally, but that also means there should be room for us when we arrive—after all, around 100 boats are heading for the Azores.
Meanwhile, we’re having our own little race with Ulf, whom we met in Panama; he’s finally made his way through the waters between Cuba and Haiti and is now about 100 nautical miles southeast of us. In addition, three other boats set sail today from Abaco, Bahamas— northwest of us—heading toward Bermuda. We don’t know them personally yet, but we’ve been chatting in a WhatsApp group for sailors crossing the Atlantic toward Europe.
For dinner, we’re having grilled pork with roast potato. A huge thank you again to Carolyn and Doug, who just grilled a piece of meat for us out of the blue so we’d have something delicious for the crossing. The sailing community is truly something special, and people like Carolyn and Doug even more so. THANK YOU!
Daily average: 104 nautical miles (in 21 hours)
Distance to Bermuda: 673 nautical miles
Meals: Quesadillas, ramen, and leftover pasta with pesto, Carolyn and Doug’s pork with roast potato
Squalls hit: 2
Bahamas - Bermuda Day 3
Sat May 23, 2026 18:51:00 GMT-0400 (Eastern Daylight Time)
The night is clear and calm. The wind is blowing at around 15 knots and we are still sailing at 45 degrees to the apparent wind.
In the morning, two tropicbirds pay us a visit. The snow-white birds with their small orange beaks and long white tail feathers keep flying round the boat, chattering excitedly with “cheep cheep cheep”. One of them tries to land on the side of our mast, but instead flutters slightly, regains its balance mid-flight and then continues circling. Nothing happend!
Otherwise, we’re heading north-east in sunshine and fairly steady winds; according to the weather forecast, this will remain the case until Tuesday. We’re having a good sleep today and eat plenty. Just before midday, the cargo ship “Nord Ling” passes us, coming within 1.5 nautical miles. Otherwise, we read and gaze out at the sea. A fine spray is splashing into our faces particularly often in the cockpit today. So we treat ourselves to a fresh water shower. We’ve certainly settled back into sailing mode nicely, and the days are starting to blur together, even though we haven’t been underway for that long.
Daily average: 120 nautical milese
Distance to Bermuda: 544 nautical miles
Meals: Quesadillas (standard breakfast, as we’ve run out of toast), Inzersdorfer chilli con carne, Austrian cookies “Mannerschnitten”, “White Wok” with onion, cabbage and bean sprouts and rice (our own creation on board), tinned peaches
Squalls hit: 2
Cabbage head count: 5/9.5 (still from Panama; one has gone off)
Flying fish on deck: 1
Bahamas - Bermuda Day 4
Sun May 24, 2026 18:39:00 GMT-0400 (Eastern Daylight Time)
The wind is picking up slightly as the night approaches and has shifted a little further east. We’re sailing fast at 5.5–6 knots, but heading slightly less eastwards than before. According to the weather forecast, that shouldn’t be a problem. We’ll likely continue heading north-northeast until Tuesday morning. On Tuesday we’ll hit a lull and have to rely on the power of the fossil juice (Diesel), and on Wednesday we’ll then encounter a westerly wind that will allow us to make up for the lost distance to the east.
Over coffee and Zuccheritas “muesli” – the name gives away how much sugar it contains – I watch the tropic birds. This time we have a visit from four birds at once. Squeaking, they fly round the boat in circles for hours, inspecting the headsail closely and trying to land on the mast. As gracefully as the birds usually glide through the air, during the complicated landing manoeuvre on the mast they flutter about wildly, ruffling all their feathers and kicking about frantically with their duck-like feet. They seem to be having a lot of fun. I read briefly about our companions; after all, we met them on the beach and are now encountering them almost 400 km from the nearest land, right in the middle of the sea. The name says it all: the birds live in the tropics and spend most of their lives in flight. Two of the species are found across the globe in tropical regions. The birds only come ashore to breed, which is where we met them. As they are ground-nesting birds, the spread of cats and rodents caused by human activity has left them with only a few isolated islands on which to breed. Conception Island is one of these remaining natural paradises.
In the morning, the wind drops and we continue at a reduced speed of 4–4.5 knots. We hoist the full sail for a couple of hours, only to reef it again at midday, just as Peter goes to sleep. Strange drizzly clouds drift by, which, however, disrupt the wind until the afternoon. Ines is crocheting a lobster, as we haven’t seen any sea creatures apart from flying fish.
Daily average: 122 nautical miles
Distance to Bermuda: 440 nautical miles
Meals: Breakfast burritos with bacon, scrambled eggs and tomatoes, ramen carbonara with bacon
Squalls hit: 2
Cabbage head count: 5/9.5 (still from Panama; one has gone off)
Flying fish on deck: 3
Bahamas - Bermuda Day 5
Mon May 25, 2026 18:24:00 GMT-0400 (Eastern Daylight Time)
The night begins with little wind, but by the time the watch changes, we’re making good progress again. It’s cloudy on and off, but we haven’t had any rain. Otherwise, the night passes quietly, apart from two rather significant milestones:
1. We’ve reached the halfway point, which means we’ve covered half the distance of our crossing to Bermuda. That means just three more sleeps until we’re there… well, given our 3.5-hour sleep cycle, it’s actually a bit more often than that – more like 7–10 times.
2. We’ve covered 10,000 nautical miles on our trip since our departure from Italy back in 2024. That means we’re officially allowed to get two swallows tattooed each. Each one represents 5,000 nautical miles sailed.
At the last watch change at sunrise – which is now at 5:00 am – Vaquita, our little porpoise, picks up speed again and, like Thomas the Tank Engine on rails, races towards Bermuda with a slight heel into the wind. At least until I run the first weather routing of the day and veer slightly northwards, in the hope of avoiding the calm that is expected tomorrow. I finish writing the Bahamas report that Ines has already started and, over a coffee, wonder at the absence of the tropicbirds. At 8:00 am I hear the familiar screech and there they are again, this time three of them. Perhaps one was chased away, as yesterday we saw another bird chasing one of the tropicbirds, or perhaps one was clever enough to realise that landing on board was no longer an option.
Around midday, the wind drops a little and shifts slightly southwards. We can ease off the wind a bit and are no longer sailing quite so close to the wind, and the waves are now coming more from the side. We’re still making good speed, though. All in all, a wonderful sail in the sunshine. We’d love it to stay like this all the way to Bermuda.
We celebrate our milestones with a small sip of rum, which we naturally share with Neptune, and treat ourselves to some Scottish biscuits. Last but not least, we treat ourselves to a freshwater shower in the cockpit, because a day like this can only be a spa day.
Etmal: 123 nautical miles
Distance to Bermuda: 313 nautical miles
Food: Quesadillas, frozen tamales from Panama (corn dough with chicken cooked in a banana leaf), fried egg and rice
Rain cells passed: 2
Cabbage head count: 5/9.5 (still from Panama; one has gone off)
Flying fish on deck: 7
Bahamas - Bermuda Day 6
Tue May 26, 2026 19:42:00 GMT-0400 (Eastern Daylight Time)
It’s getting really calm on Vaquita; the wind is continuing to drop, but we can still sail, and thanks to the half-wind course, the flapping of the sails is kept to a minimum. This morning we’re changing our routine a little. When the shift changes at 5 am, Ines doesn’t go straight to sleep; instead, we have breakfast together first and enjoy the sunrise and the accompanying visit from our tropical bird companions.
It is so calm that we can switch on the watermaker, not just to make up for yesterday’s spa day, but to refill our entire tank. We’ve used about 60 litres of water, which means we need around 10 litres a day. We manage to keep consumption low by rinsing the dishes with salt water (we have a separate foot pump for this at the sink) and the toilet flush also uses salt water.
We’ve both had a good night’s sleep today and can therefore spend the whole day together. It’s a lovely change. Consequently, there’s plenty to report. Early in the morning, we spot a few small dolphins crossing our path and performing a couple of acrobatic leaps.
We decide to empty our mini freezer, so Peter cooks steak with fried potatoes. We pass the time playing dice poker. Afterwards, we head to the nearest tattoo artist – after all, we passed the 10,000-nautical-mile mark yesterday, so we tattoo two swallows on each other’s bodies. Peter also gets an anchor tattoo, symbolising a successful Atlantic crossing. Whether you can actually make out the swallows is another matter, but the choice of tattoo artists out here is limited, and the result reflects that.
The wind dies down more and more in the afternoon and is eventually blowing at just 4–5 knots. As we wouldn’t arrive in daylight tomorrow anyway, we’re not stressing about it and want to avoid using the engine as much as possible. Luckily, we’ve got a current and are still making 3 knots. Around 5 pm, we actually have to perform a sailing manoeuvre today, as the wind shifts southwards as predicted and eventually turns westerly. So we gybe – that is, we swing the stern through the wind – and for the first time on this leg, we have the sails on the starboard side. So we’re now heading NNE, where the wind is expected to pick up again around midnight. Until then, we’ll just let ourselves be gently rocked along.
Incidentally, it’s not (yet) cold enough to need a headband; rather, Ines has a slight ache in her right ear and wants to prevent an infection.
Daily average: 115 nautical miles
Distance to Bermuda: 199 nautical miles
Meals: Quesadillas, steak with fried potatoes, tamales, watermelon
Rain cells passed: 2
Cabbage-head counter: 5/9.5 (still from Panama; one has gone off)
Flying fish on deck: 8
Bahamas - Bermuda Day 7
Wed May 27, 2026 17:44:00 GMT-0400 (Eastern Daylight Time)
We’ve been underway for almost a week now and are expected to arrive tomorrow morning. Last night we hit another real lull, but we ‘sailed it out’ and enjoyed the calm. At 11 pm, a little earlier than forecast, we had good sailing wind again. We tacked downwind until sunrise. Since the gybe for the watch change, we’ve been cruising at over 6 knots on a broad reach, with perfect sailing winds of 15–20 knots and light swells, heading relatively straight for Bermuda. Downwind sailing still feels unfamiliar; the boat moves completely differently to when sailing close-hauled, where the heel causes the boat to list constantly. Everything is rocking much more; at the moment it’s very gentle, but it gets worse as the day goes on. By the time we’re cooking, we’re longing to be sailing close-hauled again, as you can’t put anything down without it moving in all directions.
Today we’ve not only got a flying fish on deck, but also in the bathroom. It must have flown in through the open window. At least Peter wasn’t washing his hands at that exact moment and caught it by the head – this episode took place during our Atlantic crossing.
By late afternoon, we’ve got used to the boat’s movement again and hoist the Bermuda courtesy flag. Tonight we’re officially leaving the dangerous waters of the Bermuda Triangle (not the far more dangerous one at Vienna’s Schwedenplatz) and heading into the royal British waters of Bermuda (we can’t wait to queue up neatly at customs). We haven’t been abducted by aliens, we haven’t received any radio messages from Atlantis, and we haven’t disappeared yet, but luckily we’re not on boat number 19 (see Flight 19) but 24.
Last but not least, the last beer from Panama was moved to a cool place today.
Daily average: 107 nautical miles
Distance to Bermuda: 109 nautical miles
Food: Quesadillas, ramen with cabbage and fried egg
Rain cells passed: 2
Cabbage consumption: 4/9.5 (still from Panama; one has gone off)
Flying fish on deck: 8 + one in the bathroom
Bahamas - Bermuda Day 8
Thu May 28, 2026 08:50:00 GMT-0300 (Atlantic Daylight Time)
During the night, the wind picks up to just over 20 knots. That’s not too much of a problem, though, as we’re sailing downwind and so moving away from the wind. The waves are also getting bigger and are occasionally throwing us off course a bit. But we’re used to worse from our Atlantic crossing, and besides, the Vaquita is handling it brilliantly. At every watch change, we perform a gybe to help us reach our destination. At around 3 am, we roll away the headsail to increase our wind angle from 130 degrees to 150 degrees. This puts us on an almost direct course for Bermuda.
At around 4 am, we radio Akihi, one of the three German boats that set sail from Abaco, Bahamas, a day after us. Side by side, we cover the last 20 miles along the southern coast of Bermuda. A little further out sails the Gorch Fock, an 89-metre-long German naval training ship built in 1958. In the morning light, it looks particularly kitsch.
At the eastern end, we sail past colourful houses through the Town Cut into the Bermuda lagoon. The wind is still blowing at 20 knots and we look for a spot in the crowded anchorage at Convict Bay. We actually want to anchor relatively close to the dinghy dock so we don’t have to paddle so far (our outboard motor is still broken), but we can only find a spot further back. We drop anchor at 8.40 am and are glad to have finally arrived.
We actually need to go ashore today to clear customs, but as the wind is so strong (22 knots with gusts up to 30) and even Bermuda Radio (the local radio station) has warned of the wind increasing further, we decide to do that tomorrow instead. We radio Bermuda Radio again and explain our problem and our plan for tomorrow. They promise to let customs know, and that gives us another day on board. At least the swell has calmed down and we can sleep side by side again tonight. So we enjoy the luxury of being at anchor: a breakfast other than quesadillas (we have omelettes with pumpernickel and cream cheese), a meal at the table, a long, warm freshwater shower, and we celebrate it all with a celebratory drink.
