Milky Sea article – published in "Flying Fish", Ocean Cruising Club Journal (June 2015)

Seeing a display of nature for the first time can often be an unforgettable experience. However, seeing a phenomenon when you have no idea what you are witnessing is unnerving. Describing it, having no parallels, is confounding. A few days into our Indian Ocean crossing, we saw something extraordinary with 3 nights remaining.

The passage had been terrific. We were making up for a late start from Opua in early July, and intended to cross the Indian Ocean before the cyclone season. We sailed to Vanuatu - first Tanna and then on to Port Vila. Leaving Vila on 21st July, we left our destination open, waiting to see what the conditions would bring. The first few days were fairly bumpy, winds on the beam in the 25kt range with awkward swell. We arrived at the Torres Strait at the Pandora Passage (named after the ship sent to recover the Bounty mutineers, which foundered in the straits) mid-morning on Aug 1st. The 8 hours until dusk were quite easy, as winds were light and we were sailing "fast and free". At sunset we began the SSW leg through the "Deep Water Passage” of the Torres Straits, which brought us close hauled for the next 100nm or so. The channel is well marked, and with calm seas, sailing was fast. Shortly after daybreak, we could see the large ship wrecked on Bet Reef - ironically providing great assistance to other navigators. As we passed Kircaldie reef and the wind freed-off, Henri baked a pizza and we put on some music in the cockpit. With lots of islands, reefs and even the Australian mainland in sight, we felt like we were day-sailing through the green water (10m-20m deep) of the straits. We shot through the Prince of Wales channel, and a fantastic sunset welcomed us to the Gulf of Carpentaria.

We had blustery, squally conditions in the Gulf, but fortunately we had wind aft of the beam and swells were generally not large. Speeds were good. One surprising thing about the gulf is how green the water is - even when rough - it is a turquoise colour and was a great contrast with the deep ocean blue of the Pacific. By August 6th, we were 40nm E of the longitude of Darwin, where we might have stopped, but having no need of a break, or diesel, water or other supplies we pressed on. About 500nm west of Darwin, lies the uninhabited Ashmore Reef, which we considered stopping to break the passage. In the event, we decided that what we needed was an inhabited island where we could go ashore and stretch our legs - and that meant Christmas Island, 1000nm to the W of Ashmore Reef.

Sailing was fast, pleasant and, pulled by our twin head-sails, the miles were rolling by. During this week we recorded a noon-noon run of 182nm (over the ground) - a record for Pamina. However the passage would be memorable for another reason.

With 500nm to Christmas Island, we saw a very strange effect. The moon was in its 3rd quarter, and so would rise about 6 hours after sunset. As the sun went down, and my eyes began to adjust, it became clear that the sea was brighter than the sky. The guard-rails and lower rigging were faintly, but clearly, silhouetted against the sea. The entire sea was a faintly glowing green as if lit from below. It was like sailing over an illuminated swimming pool. It certainly wasn't a phosphorescence effect as it was persistent and also because the phosphorescence from our wake was barely visible against this "backlight". I called Henri up, as she had just gone off-watch. Henri, as a rule, does not like "eerie" which this definitely was. The light persisted for all of my watch. When Henri came up for her watch it was about 3 hours after sunset but the horizon was still visible because the sea was brighter and delineated against the sky. We had a quick chat about it - me from my bunk, Henri from the helm, where she asked if it changed at all in intensity (it hadn't), if the contrast in west where the sky was blackest and the sea greenest was due to the moonrise (still 3 hours away) and so on. Then she said, "it's gone", and we appeared to sail right out of the glowing water as suddenly as we had sailed into it. From that point, we then had "normal" phosphorescence until the moon came up on my watch. On the following night, not sure what to expect, and looking forward to our strange light show, we (of course) got nothing.

The last 1088 miles took less than 7 days, which included one night of heaving-to in order to make a daylight arrival on Thursday 17th August. The total trip from Port Vila to Christmas Island was 3,882nm and took us 26d 17hrs.

Some 2 weeks later, while en-route to Cocos, we saw the effect again. It was less visible with a fainter glow and it was soon quenched by the moon-rise. However, having now seen it twice we at least knew it was a real effect! It would take a while to find out what we had observed. After a while we stopped raising the subject, as we struggled to describe it and most sailors thought we were describing a phosphorescence effect.

A description of what we had seen would have to wait for about another year, by which time we were settling back into life in Dublin.

Bizarrely, I was watching the movie “Heat” when the De Niro character – looking out at the lights of LA draws a parallel with Fiji where they have “iridescent algae that light up the sea for miles, they come out once a year, that's what it looks like out there”. Prompted by this I spent some time searching the internet – to see what descriptions of glowing water I could find. I quickly established that the De Niro line was a bit of screen-writer hyperbole, but I found this description from a Captain Kingman, sailing South of Java (not far from where we were), in June 1854:

"The whole appearance of the ocean was like a plain covered with snow. There was scarce a cloud in the heavens, yet the sky...appeared as black as if a storm was raging. The scene was one of awful grandeur; the sea having turned to phosphorus, and the heavens being hung in blackness, and the stars going out, seemed to indicate that all nature was preparing for that last grand conflagration which we are taught to believe is to annihilate this material world."

There was also this description:

August 13, 1986. Northwest Indian Ocean

"The entire sea surface took on an intense white glow which was not unlike viewing the negative of a photograph."
from http://www.science-frontiers.com/sf086/sf086g12.htm

In fiction, Jules Verne referred to the phenomenon in his 1870 classic, Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea, leading to a conversation between two crew of the submarine Nautilus:

‘The 27th of January, at the entrance of the vast Bay of Bengal ... about seven o’clock in the evening, the Nautilus ... was sailing in a sea of milk ... Was it the effect of the lunar rays? No: for the moon ... was still lying hidden under the horizon ... The whole sky, though lit by the sidereal rays, seemed black by contrast with the whiteness of the waters.’

“It is called a milk sea,” I explained.

“But sir, can you tell me what causes such an effect? for I suppose the water is not really turned into milk”.

“No, my boy: and the whiteness which surprises you is caused only by the presence of myriads of infusoria, a sort of luminous little worm, gelatinous and without colour, of the thickness of a hair whose length is not more than seven-thousandths of an inch. These insects adhere to one another sometimes for several leagues”.

“... and you need not try to compute the number of these infusoria. You will not be able, for ships have floated on these milk seas for more than forty miles”.’

Clearly other observers have either been treated to much greater degree of light, or are blessed with greater descriptive powers.

The phenomenon is known as “milky sea” and – according to research by a Professor Herring in University of Southampton - whom we contacted and was delighted with our report - it has been observed 235 times since 1915. 171 of these observations have been in the Northern Indian Ocean and 40 off Indonesia. What once had sailors reaching for metaphysical terms, is now explained by "free-living bioluminescent bacteria, sometimes present in such enormous numbers that they literally light up huge areas of the ocean”. An analysis of a particularly vivid event described by a merchant ship led a researcher to review satellite imagery which resulted in a satellite photograph of the effect off the Horn of Africa.

Read more »

Talk to NYC U25's - Panama to Tonga and Vanuatu to Madagascar

Link: Conor O'Regan - National Yacht Club U25/U30 Webinar Series - YouTube

"Milky Sea" explained

The strange sea phenomenon we saw in the Indian Ocean (see the Journal entry from Aug 2006 “3900nm, 27 days at sea”) has been observed many times. For example, this account in from June 1854 in the same part of the Indian Ocean:

June 1854. South of Java. Aboard the American clipper Shooting Star. Captain Kingman reporting:

"The whole appearance of the ocean was like a plain covered with snow. There was scarce a cloud in the heavens, yet the sky...appeared as black as if a storm was raging. The scene was one of awful grandeur; the sea having turned to phosphorus, and the heavens being hung in blackness, and the stars going out, seemed to indicate that all nature was preparing for that last grand conflagration which we are taught to believe is to annihilate this material world."

and

"August 13, 1986. Northwest Indian Ocean. The entire sea surface took on an intense white glow which was not unlike viewing the negative of a photograph."

from http://www.science-frontiers.com/sf086/sf086g12.htm

It is also referenced in:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/sci/tech/3760124.stm

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Milky_seas_effect

Azores Low

Two weeks into our passage from Nonsuch Bay, Antigua to the Azores, we had less than 300nm to Flores and about 400nm to the main harbour, Horta. We were relying on weatherfax for short-term forecasting and listening to Herb Hilgenberg, a Canadian weather expert who was routing some near-by boats via SW radio.

That evening (Sunday), Herb advised that a low pressure system was expected to form over the Azores by the middle of the week, bringing wind to 45 knots from the North West. A day earlier this had been forecast to bring wind in the 25kt range – quite an increase. With strong winds forecast, we ruled out heading to Flores as the habour is small, and would be upwind in a gale. The winds would also be gale force around the time we got to Horta. Not liking the changing forecast for a system due to form in only 2 days time, we reluctantly diverted to the NW, to wait for the low-pressure to form and then move east.

Still wondering if we had done the right thing, we tuned in to Herb the following night (Monday).

“Low 995mb 40W 26N forming Tuesday afternoon, winds Tuesday pm /Wednesday am NW 45kts, winds Wednesday pm NW storm/hurricane force E of 32W, gale force E of 35W, winds 65-75kt range between Horta and Flores on Wednesday pm, system moving SE on Thursday”

We were now at 38N 38W, and so well clear of the stong winds. Amazingly, the yacht closest to us that Herb was advising (which was slightly further from Horta than us), decided to keep pushing onwards to Horta, as a Wednesday morning arrival was planned.

We waited 3 days for the system to form and begin to head east, before we resumed our course. We arrived in Flores 20 days after leaving Antigua.

St Helena to Grenada

When we left St Helena in early March, we had several options for our destination:

- Ascension Island about 700nm

- Forteleza, Brazil about 2000nm

- Fernando de Noronha, Brazil, about 1700nm

- Tobago about 3,500nm.

Ascension was ruled-out after a few days’ sailing as we were only getting into the passage at this stage and it seemed easier to keep going. We began to have some problems with the SSB around this time, which meant poor contact with Petrel and La Familia who were doing the same passage. Winds were light, but consistent, and we were making fairly good progress towards the equator. We hit the doldrums around 2S, 34W. Light winds, one large thunderstorm during the day followed by electrical storms at night. Listening to Herb on Southbound 2, we heard that the ITCZ (aka the doldrums) extended to about 4 N. Not having enough diesel to get to 4 N, we spent a few days sailing due North in light winds changing from twin sails to cruising chute to genoa as the wind stayed light and variable. Just north of the equator, we began to get some NE winds and as we motor-sailed though the night, they got stronger. Around 1N we were getting 15kts from the NE and switched back to our course for Tobago. The wind stayed with us until we got to around 6N when it faded again, giving us some unexpectedly slow days as we got closer to our destination. Our landfall in Tobago would have required slowing down to make it in daylight, so we sailed on during the night to get to Prickly Bay, Grenada where we had some friends from our previous visits. Making our arrival after 30 days at sea, our longest duration passage.

Having done the passage up from St Helena, I would recommend a course south of Fernando de Noronha along the Brazilian coast passing close to Forteleza. This has the advantage of having favourable current. We were too far off the coast to benefit from this current, especially with our northerly course through the doldrums. Boats which came-up from Forteleza had very fast passages, often with 2kts of current close to the 200m line.

St Helena (24th Feb to 2nd Mar)

We arrived in St Helena early on 24^th Feb. St Helena rises, as Darwin promised, like a fortress from the sea. The first view of the tall volcanic cliffs and sparse vegetation hides a lush interior of rolling hills. The interior is dotted with pretty cottages and the occasional Georgian house with cows grazing in green pastures – not unlike rural England. Interestingly, this similarity extends beyond the landscape to the building style, culture and people.

Politically, St Helena is a British Protectorate and its inhabitants enjoy full British Citizenship. Most islanders we spoke to had lived and worked in Britain for many years and many still had children working overseas (including in the Falklands Islands and Ascension Island).

Architecturally, Jamestown, the only town on the island, with its with many brightly painted buildings, beautifully kept public garden and old parish church is considered one of the best preserved Georgian towns.

In terms of culture, the island follows British social habits and fashions. Nevertheless there is a distinctive St Helenian look which comes from generations of intermarrying English, Portuguese, African, Chinese, Indian and Boor. The local dialect has been described as combining Dickensian English with a Deep South twang. All the Saints we met were wonderful, had a smile or a joke waiting to be told. They have a great pride in their island and willingness to share this with the few visitors they receive.

These similarities unexpected and somewhat curious, if you consider that St Helena is over 10,000 miles from Europe. At the same time, this makes St Helena instantly familiar, almost like a place one has visited before or of which one has some distant childhood memory.

One might have expected that the island would have close links to South Africa also, as this is the nearest ‘developed’ country. That this is not so can possibly be explained by the fact that most Saints would not have been welcome in Apartheid SA.

We enjoyed our short stay in St Helena, especially our two hikes in varied and beautiful countryside, passing from one vegetation zone to the next as we climbed the arid cliffs and into the lush interior. We also visited the famous Napoleonic sites, along with other, more expert Napoleon ‘spotters’ who had arrived by the mail boat, the RMS St Helena. St Helena is most famous for being Napoleon’s place of exile, the island ‘at the end of the world’ that the emperor was sent to as a punishment for escaping his prison in Elba. There are several Napoleonic sites – the two houses he lived in, and his grave. Longwood House, his long term residence and house in which he died, is a very pretty country house. Beautifully kept and carefully preserved, it was not always so – in Napoleon’s time it was reported to be damp, in a state of disrepair and rat infested. Spacious by our standards, the house would have seemed very small in comparison to Versailles and would barely contained Napoleon and his entourage. The grave is in a well kept garden, it’s location of Napoleon’s own choosing, but is unmarked as the English would not allow the title “Emperor”, while the French would not accept anything less. His body was disinterred and returned to France some 20 years after his death.

South African Cruising Notes

South Africa cannot be described as a cruising destination. There is plenty to see and do on-shore, but the objective of most boats is to get around Cape Aghulas without getting caught in a strong south westerly. The route from Richards Bay is via Durban, East London, Port Elisabeth and Mosselbaai. Of these it would be possible to leave a boat for a long stay in Richards Bay, Durban or Port Elisabeth. However, for whatever reason, the marinas are not always well organised and generally don’t take bookings.

Richards Bay

The options for cruising boats are

- the public quay in the small craft harbour, -

- the Tuzi Gazi marina in the small craft harbour and

- Zululand yacht club which is the most pleasant place to leave a boat.

Durban

A well organised, secure, protected marina. Water but no electricity. They don’t take bookings, but the staff are helpful. There are two yacht clubs – the Point YC and the Royal Natal YC who give free membership to visitors and so make their facilities available. Both yacht clubs serve good meals, and have free internet (wifi in PYC). Durban has several good chandlers close to the marina, including some places with second hand equipment. Tony Herricks’ “Cruising Connections” has a good selection of sailing books.

East London

Yachts raft-up at Latimers Landing which is on the north side of the Buffalo River, close to the railway bridge. Latimers Landing has a small chandler, a laundry and has a good restaurant.

Port Elisabeth

Good marina, good chandler in the town. Yachts raft-up on the nearby fishing quay when the marina is full. The marina is run by the Algoa Yacht Club, they don’t take bookings.

Mosselbaai

A busy fishing harbour with a 48 berth marina which is almost full of local boats. We got the only free marina berth. Two yachts got permission to tie-up on the fishing dock while we were there, otherwise the anchorage is supposed to have good holding. It looked rolly in the SE winds, and would be dangerous in a strong SE.

Cape Town

We stayed at the Royal Cape YC. Very good facilities, berths have water and electricity. Free internet in club house. Good chandlers and sailmakers (North and Quantum). Some boats stayed at the anchorage in Simonstown, others in the marina in Haut Bay – which looked very good.