Hope sailed east across the North Atlantic in the stable evening conditions about 600 miles from St. John’s, Newfoundland, Canada, a third of the way to Dingle, Ireland. Skipper Michael Leland, a retired orthopedic surgeon from Valparaiso, Indiana, was in a state of Zen, preparing another magical meal in the galley using containers of various ingredients — most of which I’d inventoried before leaving Newfoundland and listed as “unknown: twigs, seeds and floor sweepings.” Michael’s magic in the galley complemented the spirit of the open sea.

Wafting upward among the aromas from the galley below came another unbelievable proclamation attributing some great social credit to Michael’s ancestors, the Vikings. Not as grandiose as inventing fire, as he attested, but nearly as improbable. Within moments, one of us called out, “Bullshit.” I missed Google in the middle of the ocean. With four guys — three of whom were solo sailors — on a 32-foot sailboat without access to Google, it was impossible to verify the increasingly fabulous tall tales of unreal accomplishments. On the good side, this made for lively conversation during the evening meals.

Hope is a Najad 332 built in Orust, Sweden, in 2005. She was thoughtfully modified to fulfill Michael’s lifelong dream of sailing his own boat to his Norwegian homeland via the great routes of his Viking ancestors. Following Hope‘s wake backward, she spent her first eight years on the Great Lakes, sailing, racing and preparing for this adventure. Stepped with a taller carbon mast to take advantage of the light winds common in the summer races on Lake Michigan, she was a lively boat, and easily managed when the sail plan was reefed. Additional modifications included desalination, critical navigation electronics, communications, solar panels, a hydro generator, autopilots (both electronic and a windvane), a short bowsprit for flying asymmetrical chutes and a step platform at the mast to safely elevate the crew working on the mainsail.

Following Michael’s retirement in 2015, Hope was shipped to Jamestown, Rhode Island, where Michael and crewmembers Vik Warren and Moose DeBone sail-tested her on Narragansett Bay before sailing up and down the coast to Nova Scotia, Canada, and back to enhance their ocean skills. In May 2017, after wintering at the Jamestown Boat Yard, Hope was relaunched and prepped, over a week of sailing, for departing on the first legs of this multiyear, round-trip Viking passage.

The planned route began in Jamestown, with crew Bruce Carter, Moose and Michael sailing to Halifax, Nova Scotia, and then on to St. John’s. In St. John’s, I joined the crew as we convened on August 1 to cross the North Atlantic to Dingle. From Dingle, the route would continue around southern Ireland to Howth, near Dublin, and then up the Irish Sea to Fort William at the start of the Caledonian Canal to cross the top of Scotland. From Inverness, on the east coast of Scotland, we would sail the North Sea to Mandal, Norway, and then on to Hope‘s birth home of Orust to winter over.

After the mandatory shutter clicks and the topping off of fuel, Hope slipped her lines at the Royal Newfoundland Yacht Club and headed east on the quiet waters of Conception Bay. Sailing enthusiastically slow in the light evening airs set a perfect transition to life at sea. As night fell and lights twinkled on the last points of land fading behind us, a fair breeze caught us as we slipped into our watch system.

The watch system consisted of two-man teams, four hours on and four hours off. Michael explained the matrix he worked out: By alphabetical order, Bruce would team with Dave and Michael would team with Moose. In three days, we’d switch. Bruce would move to the back, and Dave would be in front. Moose would now team with Bruce, and Michael would team with Dave, but Bruce would lose two hours and have to hold a six-hour shift, while Moose would gain two hours.

Got it? Or was it the other way around?

Michael assured us it would all even up in the end. With confused looks, we asked him to draw the matrix on paper to show us its simplicity. By the time the diagrams for two weeks were complete, they looked suspiciously like a flea-flicker play for the last seconds of a high-school football game. Our laughter bounced across the waters as Hope skipped east along the 1,800-mile great circle route tracked by Loki, the nickname for the B&G Zeus chart plotter. Loki, I was told, is the mythical Norse character known for being a trickster. I was assured that by the end of the trip, I’d be witness to Loki’s mischief.

The departure forecast had come with favorable news. The weather would be fair for a good portion of the following week, with moderate winds on the beam or farther aft. It also came with a strange addendum: an ice report in the form of a grid dividing the waters we’d sail through, indicating the number of icebergs in each block of the grid. We’d have to keep a keen eye out until clearing the ice zone at 46 degrees west longitude. I had experience with ice reports and explained my limited knowledge of the characteristics of ice in the event we encountered bergs. Most important, sail to the windward side. Keeping a vigilant watch, we excitedly anticipated a sighting, but unfortunately, there would be no icebergs on this trip across the Atlantic.

In the stable conditions, Thor, our Hydrovane wind steering system, handled the helm while Watson, our Watt & Sea hydrogenerator, provided power, augmented by the solar panel. By sidelining Olaf, our electronic autopilot, we limited our electrical usage and allowed our alternative power generation to keep pace. In livelier conditions, we’d employ Olaf and generate additional power from the diesel engine as needed. When making speeds of 7 and 8 knots, there was enough power to run the systems, especially when taking turns at the helm to avert boredom.

The long passage morphed into indistinguishable days as the small cursor on Loki progressed across the chart. Each click of 100 nautical miles generated a celebration. The celebrations added up, along with the sightings of whales, dolphins and the endless community of seabirds following our wake. The long miles gave us plenty of opportunity for calculating time and distance equations, and no passage is complete without a pooled bet on arrival time. In our case, the pool consisted of $10 per crew, with the winner obligated to buy drinks in Dingle. At the halfway mark, we allowed a change of prediction if accompanied by an additional $20 fee. By the time we reached Dingle, we were determined to impact the local economy.

With 700 miles remaining, our weather update forecast a frontal passage the following day that would continue to carry us east quickly. A more significant frontal passage was developing for the last few hundred miles into Dingle. Commanders’ Weather predicted 40-knot winds from the south-southeast ahead of the significant front, with the winds backing to the southwest at 25 to 30 knots afterward. Our last few days into Dingle aboard the compact 32-foot Najad would be sporty, to say the least.

As we laid out the timeline of the frontal crossing, we prepared Hope for the heavy weather by securing everything in place and setting up storm sails. Freeze-dried or hand food would replace the magical concoctions from Michael’s galley. We changed the watch system to two-hour shifts so the watch crew could rotate through 30-minute turns on the helm if necessary. As the weather approached, the winds built to 25 then to 35 knots with a gust to 38 forward of the beam. Olaf handled the steering well under the reduced sail plan and an adjusted course that took us north of the rhumb line.

With each watch change, we noted the storm’s progress and aligned our expectations for the next several hours. At midnight, Michael and I took our watch, anticipating the front crossing and the inevitable wind shift to the southwest. Like clockwork, over our two-hour watch, the winds backed to the southwest and decreased to 25 knots. With the ease and change in direction, we slowly adjusted Hope back onto course. The winds remained at 20 to 25 knots for the following two days, giving us a beautiful ride among giant swells of crystalline blue. Sighting the ghostly shapes of the islands off the Dingle peninsula built an air of excitement to the completion of the crossing, a first for Bruce, Moose and Michael. Blasting up Dingle Bay through the afternoon, we arrived in harbor to a soft, gentle rain we’d come to know as “Irish sunshine.” After 13 days at sea, Dingle provided a warm welcome and a comfortable rest.

After ample celebration in Dingle, Hope sailed on to the famed ports of Kinsale and Cork before arriving in Howth outside of Dublin. The friendly Howth sailors filled us with local knowledge of the routes and passages we’d encounter on our trip to Fort William: snug harbors, swirling whirlpools and tidal rips — those passable and those to avoid. With great reluctance, after a wonderful few days in Howth, we released our dock lines and headed for Port Ellen on the island of Islay. The unfavorable weather provided little wind for sailing, but we were assured, if we took too long, we’d have all the wind we wanted on the nose. We opted to motorsail along the beautiful coast until morning, when the breeze freshened, allowing us to make the harbor at Port Ellen before the heavier winds arrived.

After a long walk to the petrol station for fuel and a trip to the local distillery for scotch, we relaxed in the hotel bar for an evening meal and local entertainment. Providing some entertainment of our own, we tested the local fare of haggis and Scotch whisky. Two out of the three of us found the haggis edible. I was the exclusion, unable to even try it.

As forecast, the weather turned against us, forcing us to stay through the following day and set a departure for 0300. In the early dark, with driving wind and rain, we untied our dock lines and headed out, hopeful the forecast would prove accurate and the wind would turn favorable as we approached the narrow passage between the islands of Islay and Jura.

We planned our departure around the tidal rapids, both the ones with us and the ones we wanted to fight. We chose to have the tide at the top of the bay near Fort William with us, which required us to take the full brunt of the tide in the narrow passage. Making just 3 to 4 knots over the ground under full main and 25 knots of wind, this may have been the only time in my life I proclaimed, “Thank God it’s blowing 25!”

After two hours of battling tide and conflicting emotions — anxiety over the danger and elation over the beauty — we exited the narrow passage heading northeast up the long finger of Loch Linnhe. Beautiful vistas opened and closed with the foggy rain surrounding us. By late afternoon, we sailed through the last of the tidal rapids with the current helping us rip through the eddies and swirls. A large sailboat at the mouth of the Caledonian Canal at Fort William became our raft and neighbor. Together, with a friendly young couple heading south, we walked along the canal to share our stories over dinner and a pint at a local pub.

The next morning started with coffee as the loch tender opened the sea lock for us. Soon, a steady rain had begun as we locked up the seven steps of Neptune. At the top of the steps, drenched and cold, we walked along a path to a small coffee shop we passed to take a break. The canal and its 27 locks would take three days to traverse, allowing for the exchange of stories with the many sailors and tourists watching our flotilla pass.

Our most anticipated portion of the canal was sailing Loch Ness. Leaving our pontoon early, we entered the loch and immediately set our big green chute. With a light wind blowing the length of the loch, we ghosted along, imagining the monster below us and what life would be like in one of the remote dwellings along the coast. All to no avail: Nessie stayed hidden, frightened by the jolly green giant spinnaker.

Exiting the canal at Inverness, we began the last and most anticipated passage of the trip: crossing the North Sea to Norway. Pondering the weather options for late September on the North Sea, we had only a narrow window that would allow us good sailing with 20 to 25 knots and the ability to cross in two days. Setting up for this window required sailing the length of the bay to position ourselves at Whitehills before departing the following day for the open North Sea.

We carried the fresh wind across the North Sea, sailing between giant oil rigs speckling the horizon. Like small cities, they provided navigational stepping stones. With the wind holding at 20-plus knots, we approached Norway in a heavy following sea. In 5- to 6-meter seas, we picked our way into the craggy coast, closely monitoring the GPS position as spatial perception frazzled our nerves. Waves crashing on the rocks and islands seemed way too close for comfort after sailing the open expanse of the North Sea.

Approaching the coast, I found Michael helming in a teary, joyful, emotional moment with a rainbow behind him and the reflection of the Norwegian headlands in his glasses. He was living the dream he began 40 years ago after taking the helm of a sailing boat in college. In that first sailing moment, he knew one day he’d sail his own boat across the Atlantic to visit his homeland. As each mile drew us closer, I could sense his peace from the spiritual and emotional happiness he was living. With a final turn behind the lee of an island, we settled into the beautiful harbor of Mandal.

Secure in Mandal, we waited out the increased adverse winds before finding a gentle weather window to carry on to Sweden. The final leg of this long journey was calm and serene. While it was necessary to motor much of the way, the clear skies, warm sun and stunning nights — complete with drifts of northern lights — made the perfect time for reflection on this great adventure.

In the morning rain, Hope was secured to a pontoon at her home docks in Orust, where she had come to life just steps away, in the building sheds. As we absorbed the end of our journey, I could sense Hope‘s relief and pride, having seen much of the world her neighborly sisters hadn’t. She floated proudly at the Orust Yacht Services marina as we contemplated the return trip next summer over celebratory pints. Hope‘s trip home will take her along the westward Viking route via Norway, the Shetlands, Iceland, Greenland and the Canadian Maritime provinces. If it’s anything like our crossing, it should be one sweet ride.

Dave Rearick is a lifelong sailor who hails from the southern shores of Lake Michigan. His passion for singlehanded sailing earned him the prestigious Mike Silverthorne award from the Great Lakes Sailing Society. After campaigning his Farr 40, Bodacious Dream, in races in North America and Europe, he set forth on and completed a solo circumnavigation. Dave’s much-anticipated book on the trip, Spirit of a Dream, is scheduled for release this summer.

The post Sailing Across the Atlantic appeared first on Cruising World.

Tropical rainforests, barrier reefs, secluded anchorages: In the Windward Islands, you’ll get a taste of all that the Caribbean has to offer, and plenty of fine trade-wind sailing to boot.

For charter sailors, there are multiple choices to begin and end your adventures, and from any of them, you can choose to make your sailing vacation as laid-back or as challenging as you’d like.

The Windwards stretch north to south across roughly 120 nautical miles of the open Atlantic, from Martinique, at 14.64 degrees N, to Grenada, at 12.12 degrees N. In addition to those two bookends, the other big islands in the group include St. Lucia and St. Vincent, the capital of St. Vincent and the Grenadines. The Grenadines include bustling Bequia and Union Island, as well as several smaller, more remote islands and the otherworldly Tobago Cays.

Typically, Windward Island charter vacations begin from bases on Martinique, St. Lucia, St. Vincent or Grenada. Those wishing to relax, or fledgling skippers who want to ease into the Caribbean charter experience, can stay close to home and harbor-hop along the leeward western shore of any of the bigger islands. The more adventurous can head out and sail either north or south as far as time permits, or even opt for a one-way charter, say from St. Lucia to Grenada. The Windwards are comprised of four island nations, so you’ll need to remember to clear in and out of each along the way.

Martinique

Unlike the rest of the Windwards, Martinique has a distinctive French flair to it. The island is well developed and offers many shoreside amenities. Possible itineraries include exploring the island’s west coast or a sail south to St. Lucia.

St. Lucia

Rodney Bay, with a full-scale marina and nearby stores, is the hub for chartering on and around St. Lucia. The island offers several good anchorages, as well as a busy cruise-ship port in Castries and international air service. Typical itineraries include a sail north to Martinique or south to the Grenadines; an overnight stop at the iconic rock spires called the Pitons, on the island’s southern tip, is a must.

St. Vincent and the Grenadines

Charterers starting from St. Vincent will surely make a beeline to Bequia’s Admiralty Bay, and from there to the heart of the Grenadines: Union Island, with busy Clifton Harbour and lovely Chatham Bay; laid-back Canouan and Mayreau; and the national marine park at Tobago Cays, where visitors can pick up a mooring or anchor behind Horseshoe Reef to snorkel miles of coral and visit the park’s turtle sanctuary.

Grenada

The south coast of Grenada is scored with deep indentations, each of which makes for a spectacular anchorage. A week’s charter could easily be spent exploring these gems, or you can sail north, visiting the west coast to Carriacou, and from there continue to the southern Grenadines.

What to know if you go

Climate: Tropical temperatures are found throughout the Windwards. Temperatures in summer (the rainier season) vary from 75 degrees to 95 degrees F; winter (December to May) temperatures range from 65 degrees to 85 degrees F.

Winds: Easterly trade winds prevail across the islands. Winter winds tend to be more northerly; summer trades have a southerly component. Wind speeds vary from 10 to 25 knots, though more boisterous conditions can be expected during winter months and around the northern ends of the larger islands.

Sailing level: Skippers should be adept at reefing and comfortable with anchoring. In high season, the limited moorings get taken quickly, and many harbors lack moorings altogether. Passages between islands can range up to 30 miles and cross open ocean, so bluewater conditions can be expected.

Mark Pillsbury is CW’s editor.

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Provided that you don’t mind occasional spats of “liquid sunshine,” it’s tough to find better North American cruising grounds than Washington’s San Juan Islands or Canada’s Gulf Islands, especially if your idea of scenery involves glaciated peaks and orca and humpback whales. An international border bifurcates the two island groups, but the Salish Sea, the broader name for the waters of Puget Sound, the Strait of Juan de Fuca and the Strait of Georgia, links them together. Classic jumping-off points include Port Townsend, Washington (home to the famous Wooden Boat Festival each September); Anacortes, Washington; and Bellingham, Washington. Visiting ­cruisers should beware of Port Townsend’s strong currents, which can be hard to buck in a light breeze. While Anacortes is a longer passage from Seattle than Port Townsend is, it’s home to several charter companies, and its more northerly location makes it an ideal springboard for extended cruises to the San Juans or the Gulf Islands. Cruisers looking to stay closer to Seattle can explore a few of Whidbey Island’s many charming communities, and for those headed farther north, Deception Pass, on the island’s east side, offers a decidedly sportier navigational challenge than the more frequently traveled Admiralty Inlet to the west.

The San Juan Islands

The proximity of the San Juans to Seattle and Vancouver makes them a relatively easy hop for U.S. and Canadian sailors. The archipelago’s larger landmasses, such as Orcas Island and San Juan Island, are home to quaint, upscale towns such as Friday Harbor and Eastsound. For those looking for a bit more solitude, the San Juans house numerous smaller islands, including Blakely, Matia, Stuart and Sucia islands, as well as Jones Island Marine State Park, where natural landscapes outrank development. Orcas Island is the largest San Juan island and includes Mount Constitution and Turtleback Mountain, both of which offer great hiking trails and commanding views. Some of Washington’s best fishing and crabbing can be found in the surrounding waters, and visitors can expect less rain than most of western Washington.

The Gulf Islands

Of the more than 200 islands in the archipelago, 15 make up the Gulf Islands National Park Reserve: 14 square miles of protected seafloor and terra firma. Charterers can spend countless days exploring secluded bays and anchorages, or they can enjoy the trappings of more populated places such as Page’s Resort and Silva Bay Resort, on Gabriola Island. Saltspring Island is the largest and most populated of the Gulf Islands, and its famous Saturday market is a great place to buy island-grown produce; farm and winery tours are also available. Alternatively, Saturna Island is marina-free and offers great hiking trails, including Mount Warburton Pike (1,316 feet), which is the park reserve’s loftiest peak. And while the Salish Sea is cold, on Mayne Island cruisers can find warm-water swimming holes in places like Campbell and Piggott bays.

What to know if you go

Climate: Temperatures are cool and seasonal: upper 60s F in the summer and down to the 40s F November through March. Rains are common from mid-October until early summer. The best cruising months are July through September.

Winds: Easterly breeze generally ranges from 10 to 25 knots. In winter the winds are usually northeast and heavier; in summertime, expect calmer conditions trending southeast.

Sailing level: While the Salish Sea enjoys summertime blue skies, accompanying high-pressure systems typically snuff the breeze. Great summer sailing is still possible, especially if you strategically use the long days. Breeze returns with the rain, and conditions can get fairly brisk during the winter and early spring.

David Schmidt is CW’s electronics editor and a lifelong cruising and racing sailor who lives in Seattle.

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There are bustling cafes for strong coffee and flaky croissants, where the background conversation has a decidedly French accent. Or perhaps you’d prefer miles of pristine white sand beaches, many of which you have all to yourself. Then again, if what you’re after is champagne sailing across turquoise seas flecked with whitecaps, well, that’s most certainly an option. That’s one of the best things about a charter cruise of the northernmost Leeward Islands: Whatever you desire, you’ll find it!

Dutch? French? Charters generally originate on the truly international (and somewhat schizophrenic) island of St. Maarten, half of which is French, the other Dutch. You can spend the ­morning enjoying cafe society on the northern, French side in Marigot, and the afternoon strolling down the beachside walkway fronting the many bars and restaurants on the southern, Dutch side in Philipsburg. Or, of course, you could take in both scenes from the comfort of your cockpit, as each city is located adjacent to a protected anchorage, the former by Marigot Bay and the latter off Great Bay.

In recent years, St. Maarten has gone through a boom period (which accounts for the many cruise ships in Great Bay and the row of superyachts docked in the Simpson Bay Lagoon). However, there are also enough anchorages and marinas that you could spend a delightful week circum­navigating the island and enjoy a different destination every night. But then you’d miss the isle’s alluring neighbors.

Laid-Back Anguilla

Across Anguilla Channel from St. Maarten lies the low, friendly island of Anguilla. On a windy day, you can cover the roughly 12 nautical miles from Marigot to Road Bay, Anguilla’s most popular anchorage, in just a couple of boisterous hours. But while the relative distance is short, in some aspects you’re a world away.

RELATED: The Wild Side of Saint-Martin

Anguilla may be what St. Maarten was like before it became, well, St. Maarten. The vibe is mellow, the high-rise hotels nonexistent. What Anguilla lacks in glitz is more than made up for by the place’s astounding natural beauty: Surrounded by coral reefs and graced with numerous gorgeous beaches, it’s the very embodiment of what has attracted sailors to the Caribbean for centuries.

Chic St. Barts

Last but definitely not least in this trio of Caribbean treasures is glittering, iconic, breathtaking St. Barthélemy, better known to one and all as St. Barts. Strategically situated smack-dab in the middle of the Lesser Antilles chain, it’s been grappled over by would-be European colonialists and pirates of all stripes for hundreds of years. That said, a quick stroll through the streets of Gustavia, the ­stupendous deepwater port that also ­services the main anchorage, makes one thing very clear: The French were the last ones standing.

RELATED: The Wild Side of Saint-Martin

St. Barts is synonymous with the best of everything: the tastiest restaurants, ­grandest villas, sleekest yachts and, of course, the most beautiful people. It’s a scene everyone should experience once. And the best thing about arriving on a charter boat is that, once you’ve had your fill, you can simply sail away.

What to know if you go:

Climate: Tropical. There will be plenty of sunshine and high temperatures, as well as occasional squalls that can bring heavy showers. Be prepared for both.

Winds: Trade-wind sailing means easterly breeze generally ranging from 10 to 25 knots. In winter the winds are usually northeast and heavier; in summertime, expect calmer conditions trending southeast.

Sailing level: Line-of-sight navigation is simple and straightforward for experienced sailors of all levels, but above-average boathandling skills may be necessary for open-ocean passages between the islands on the more blustery days.

Herb McCormick is CW’s executive editor.

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The British Virgin Islands are at the top of many sailors’ list of favorite charter destinations — and once you’ve been, you’ll understand why. From the consistent sailing conditions to the abundance of gorgeous anchorages and beach bars, this place was made for cruisers.

Tortola is the largest island in the group, and its main settlement, Road Town, is where you’ll find several charter bases surrounding the large harbor; others are just a short cab ride away. There are grocery stores, bakeries and liquor stores near town for provisioning. Or better yet, have your charter company take care of it.

Whether it’s your first charter in these islands or they are an annual destination, the BVI doesn’t disappoint, and you can tailor your experience to your preferences. Love snorkeling and diving? Make sure that underwater hot spots like the wreck of the RMS Rhone and reefs at the Indians and the Dogs are on your itinerary. Want to stay up until the wee hours? Check out a full moon party at Trellis Bay or Bomba’s Surfside Shack. Love sailing? Include a jaunt to Anegada during your trip.

Most BVI charters last a week, which is enough time to enjoy several of the islands, but if you can swing 10 days or more, go for it! Leaving from Road Town, a typical route heads counter­clockwise through the islands, with most of the sailing in the protected waters of Sir Francis Drake Channel.

The Bight at Norman Island is an easy first-night destination. There are moorings and plenty of room to anchor, although if you don’t enjoy late-night crowds, choose a spot away from the William Thornton (aka Willy T’s), a floating bar and restaurant anchored in the southwest corner of the Bight. Ready to jump in the water? Be sure to check out the caves nearby at Treasure Point and the reef at Pelican Island.

Farther up Drake Channel, the Baths at Virgin Gorda are a fun place to explore — be sure to arrive early to secure a mooring — and there are cool photo ops among the giant boulders. An ideal spot to relax midcharter, Virgin Gorda’s North Sound is home to the Bitter End Yacht Club, Saba Rock and the Leverick Bay Resort and Marina, all good choices for a drink or meal ashore. North Sound itself offers well-protected, flat water that is perfect for trying out any water toys you might have aboard. Next, if conditions are good and you’re up for a sail, you can head out to Anegada, known for killer sunsets and lobster dinners on the beach.

Whether you’re sailing back from Anegada or over from North Sound, stop for lunch and a snorkel at Monkey Point, Guana Island, and then pick up a mooring for the night at Cane Garden Bay. This postcard-­perfect bay is the place to go for live music, and for a real taste of the BVI, there are tours and tastings at the Callwood Rum Distillery.

If you love beach bars, Jost Van Dyke has some of the best, from Foxy’s at Great Harbour to the Soggy Dollar at White Bay. A ­quieter ­evening can be had anchored off picturesque Little Jost Van Dyke. Wrap up your week in the BVI with a night either at Peter Island or Cooper Island, and you’ll be well ­positioned for an easy sail back to Road Town.

What to know if you go

Climate: The BVI has a tropical climate with temperatures that vary little throughout the year. On average, the rainiest months are September through November, and the ­driest are February and March.

Winds: During the winter months, the trade winds are northeasterly at about 15 to 20 knots, though from December to mid-­January, there may be periods of “Christmas winds,” which can blow 25 to 30 knots for days at a time. In the summer months, the trades are more southeasterly at 10 to 15 knots.

Sailing level: Steady breezes and easy navigation on mostly protected waters make the BVI an ideal spot for a first bareboat charter. Although moorings are plentiful, they fill up quickly in the high season, so skippers should be well adept at anchoring.

Jen Brett is CW’s senior editor.

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Pristine white sand beaches begging for footprints; the Great Barrier Reef Marine Park just waiting to be snorkeled; and our charter catamaran tugging on her mooring lines, ready to set sail. Who could resist such a tempting welcome from the Whitsunday Islands? Not us.

Before we could play, we had some preparations to do. At the Abell Point Marina in Airlie Beach, we finalized the paperwork to charter a Fountaine Pajot Athena 38 catamaran. At the marina’s dive shop, we rented snorkeling gear for the family and thin neoprene “stinger” suits to protect us from jellyfish. We bought groceries in the nearby town, and we passed the charter company’s written and practical tests.

Whitsundays, Here We Come!

We eagerly set a beam-reach course to Langford Island and its sand spit, aptly named One Foot Island. Both are located off Hook Island. With 20 knots from the southeast, we arrived in less than two hours. Fifteen minutes after mooring, we were snorkeling with stingrays. We motored to nearby Stonehaven Anchorage for the night; it offered better protection from the prevailing wind.

Cave Drawings

The next morning, we sailed south to Nara Inlet, a protected bay that is reputed to be a spawning ground for hammerheads. That was OK; we didn’t sail there to swim. Instead we dinghied ashore and bush-walked to the aboriginal caves at the Ngaro Cultural Site. The short but initially steep path leads to a viewing platform outside the once-hidden rock shelter. Archaeologists believe that the seafaring Ngaro people first settled this area more than 9,000 years ago. Their fragile art motifs adorn the stone walls here.

Sea Life

Butterfly Bay was Tuesday’s destination, so we sailed north through the pass between Hook Island and Hayman Island. Suddenly I spotted a plume of water: humpback whales! Between June and September, whales visit and give birth to their calves in the Whitsundays. We dived off the boat at Maureen’s Cove to go snorkeling. Beautiful, ­colorful coral and tons of tropical reef fish swayed and darted in the turquoise water. Even our hesitant 6-year-old donned his snorkeling gear and bravely put his face into the water, hanging on to my shoulder and enthusiastically pointing at the fish.

Picture Perfect

A couple of turtles poked their heads out of the water as we dropped the hook at Tongue Bay the next morning. We dinghied ashore and followed a well-worn path up the hill to a viewing platform that overlooks spectacular Hill Inlet and famous Whitehaven Beach. After taking photos, we walked across Tongue Point to Lookout Beach for a picnic dinner. The next day, we anchored off Whitehaven Beach, building castles in the powdered-sugar sand and swimming.

On the last day of our charter, we sailed to Hamilton Island. The lack of cars on the island gave the place a perpetual holiday feel that made leaving even harder.

Will we go back? Of course. We still have 70 islands and their beaches to explore and an ocean of coral reefs that need to be snorkeled.

What to know if you go

Best time of year: May to November, with August to November being the driest months. Tropical cyclones may occur December to April, and the risk of jellyfish is higher from November to May. Average air temperature during this time is 68 to 79 degrees F.

Winds: Southeast and east winds dominate, typically 14 to 17 knots from May to November. The outer Great Barrier Reef provides protection from ocean swells, giving typically pleasant sailing conditions within the Whitsunday Islands.

Sailing Level: Skills required are beginner to intermediate. Breeze is generally dependable and moderate, while piloting is simple and straightforward. Sailing time between most anchorages is less than two hours.

Writer and mother Kelly Watts is the author of Sailing to Jessica.

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If the prospect of near-perfect broad reaching in steady trade winds, combined with snorkeling and diving from the world’s second-largest barrier reef and nearby atolls, is too tempting to pass up, then don’t! Belize is the destination for you.

Situated on the western border of the Caribbean Sea, the former British Honduras is south of Mexico and northeast of Guatemala, in Central America. Its reef and some 450 islands are all teeming with marine life.

Reef Reserve System

The entire barrier reef, which runs from the northeast tip of the Yucatan Peninsula in Mexico to Sapodilla Cay, in southern Belize, is more than 350 nautical miles long. The Belize portion, more than 180 nautical miles long — a jagged mass of coral about 15 miles off the coast — runs south from the north tip of Ambergris Cay to the Gulf of Honduras. In 1996, it was designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site and formally named the Belize Barrier Reef Reserve System.

To the west of the reef, on a limestone shelf, sit shallows that range from 3 to 70 feet deep, but 15 feet in enough areas to accommodate cruising sailboats. Prevailing winds clock primarily from northeast to southeast. To the east of the reef, starting 8 miles out, are three coral atolls — Turneffe, Glover’s Reef and Lighthouse Reef — rarities in the Western Hemisphere, whose base formations are tied to tectonic plate movements that created the reef. All are protected as part of the reserve system.

Pristine Cruising Ground

The bareboat cruising area, which extends from Placencia in the south to Ambergris Cay in the north, is about 140 square nautical miles. Sailing beyond the barrier reef or within it at the southernmost reaches generally requires a local skipper aboard. Check with your charter company. From the deck, landmasses appear lush and low, predominantly mangrove vegetation and flat, palm-studded cays. Passages can be short or long, and navigation is line of sight. The predominance of reef and shallows and less-than-accurate charting demand a vigilant bow watch. Complete reliance on waypoint navigation is discouraged.

Where to Go

Highlights of a bareboat itinerary south to north from Placencia can include stops at Tobacco Cay and its Reef’s End Lodge (reefsendlodge.com), Bluefield Range, Rendezvous Cay and Sergeant’s Cay. Not to be missed is a visit to the Hol Chan Marine Reserve (holchanbelize.org) and Shark Ray Alley. Hol Chan is also part of the national reserve system.

If you hire a local skipper, your sailing grounds can extend to the atolls. Among highlights at Lighthouse Reef are snorkeling and diving at the Great Blue Hole, an immense limestone sinkhole 1,000 feet across and more than 400 feet deep. While at Lighthouse Reef, be sure to visit Half Moon Cay Natural Monument, which hosts 98 resident bird species, including the red-footed booby. Other destinations attainable with a guide are Laughing Bird Cay and the Sapodilla Cays.

What to know if you go

Climate: Year-round temperatures range from the mid-70s to mid-80s F. While the season extends from November to May, some say the best months are March and April, after winter northerlies pass. In the absence of tropical storm systems, August and September can be spectacular.

Winds: Throughout the reef, easterlies blowing 15 to 20 knots kick up a short chop and are enough to keep die-hards content. You can find protection from the wave action of the open Caribbean to the west of the reef.

Sailing Level: If you have basic coastal and navigation skills, you can sail behind the cays and reef of Belize. Passages are short, and waves inside the reef are minimal. A vigilant bow watch among the shallows and reefs is necessary, as are solid anchoring skills. Beyond the reef, you must bring a skipper. All bareboat charter sailors in Belize must obtain a temporary certificate of competency.

CW editor-at-large Elaine Lembo writes about chartering.

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Greece boasts thousands of islands, spread across an enormous geographical area stretching from the Aegean to the Ionian sea. Four of Greece’s five island groups are prime charter areas: the Cyclades, the Saronic Islands, the Ionian Islands and the Dodecanese. Each group has its own unique character. In all of them, you can visit the more popular places, opt to sail off the beaten track, or do a bit of both. Everywhere, archaeological and geological attractions abound. Unless you have 10 to 14 sailing days, focus on one island group.

The Cyclades are Greece’s most popular islands. Beginning 45 miles from Athens and stretching south and east, they’re classically Greek: soaring above the deep-blue sea in the Aegean’s center, adorned with white stucco houses and windmills. Itineraries are diverse, from bustling towns and nightlife on Mykonos, Paros and Ios, to the vistas of Santorini, to the tranquility of islands like Folegandros and Amorgos. The ancient city on Delos is comparable to Pompeii. On Milos (where the Venus de Milo was discovered), geological attractions are breathtaking. Throughout the Cyclades, pristine white beaches abound.

Saronic Islands

The Saronic Islands begin about 25 miles from Athens, nestled between there and the Peloponnese Peninsula. They are clustered fairly close together; charters usually include at least one mainland port. Itineraries can include busy, picture-perfect islands like Hydra; Poros or Aegina for nightlife; quieter harbors in the hamlets of the Peloponnese; or a visit to the ancient harbor and theater at Epidaurus. While beaches aren’t as plentiful as in the Cyclades, there are plenty of excellent places to swim.

Ionian Islands

The Ionian Islands, stretching along Greece’s west coast, lie 200 miles from Athens. Known as the “Greek Caribbean,” the islands rise lushly from an aquamarine sea. Houses have a Venetian flair. Here you’ll discover the famous island of Ithaka, alleged isle of Odysseus, and Corfu, which inspired writers like Shakespeare (The Tempest) and brothers Lawrence and Gerald Durrell (Prospero’s Cell and My Family and Other Animals). There are many good beaches, and the snorkeling is some of the best you’ll find in Greece.

The Dodecanese

The Dodecanese island group lies along the west coast of Turkey in the eastern Aegean. Classic white stucco on some islands contrasts with Venetian- and Turkish-influenced architecture on others; there are bustling town hubs as well as secluded anchorages. From Patmos in the north to Rhodes in the south, there are many attractions, including the site where St. John is said to have written The Apocalypse (Patmos); a slumbering volcano (Nisyros); and the Castle of the Knights of St. John (Rhodes), to name a few.

Whichever island group you choose, your charter company will provide itinerary options and suggestions. Following the wind is up to you!

What to know if you go

Climate: Warm but seasonal. In summer, sunny skies prevail. Best sailing months are May through October.

Winds: Vary according to area. Cyclades: ­often strong; Saronics: more moderate, sheltered by the mainland; Ionian: generally ­lighter; Dodecanese: more moderate, ­sheltered by the Turkish mainland. Throughout the season, very strong fair-weather winds called the meltemi are possible and are usually more frequent in July and August.

Sailing Level: Can be challenging, especially in the Cyclades. There are few aids to navigation; most hazards are not marked. Bareboat skippers need solid sailing and navigational experience and familiarity with Med mooring. A captain’s license or notarized sailing resume may be required by some companies.

Lynda Morris Childress and her husband charter their Atlantic 70 cutter, Stressbuster, throughout the Greek Islands.

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Beach huts, Moorea, Tahiti

In the course of one year, French Polynesia will host as many tourists as Hawaii does in one weekend. It’s that remote and that much harder to get to — which also makes a visit all the more worthwhile.

It’s like nowhere else in the world. Paradise found. One of the last places on earth to be populated by humans, the Society Islands were also one of the final spots to be colonized by Europeans. Lost at sea, starving and thirsty, it’s no surprise that the French sailors who landed here would soon stake their claim in these warm, alluring isles, ripe with fruit and beautiful women. Even today, the French government continues to subsidize wine and bread in these Pacific islands, and with plentiful fish, bananas free for the picking, and easy-flowing local beer, it’s a true sailor’s paradise.

The history of the islands is as colorful as the bougainvillea that grows there. From Cook and Bougainville to Bligh and Moitessier, legendary seamen have been drawn to these shores. The origins of the first voyagers to arrive are still debated. But they literally left their mark, and you’ll soon stumble across their ancient marae, the coral tables where births, weddings and funerals were conducted.

Bora Bora, Tahiti

Islands in the Sun

The Leeward group consists primarily of the high islands of Raiatea, Tahaa, Bora Bora and Huahine, as well as the outlying islands of Maupiti, Tupai and Maupihaa, the last two of which are true atolls. All these islands are within a day’s sail of one another. They have numerous places to stop for the day and safe places to anchor at night.

Raiatea is where you will most likely begin your charter. A small plane shuttles you from Papeete, Tahiti. Like all the islands you’ll visit, Raiatea is a jungle of lush vegetation, with morning mist rising out of the rainforest and stretching to the peaks of the jagged, eroded volcanic mountains.

Tahaa and Raiatea are surrounded by a common barrier reef. You can sail around the two islands without ever leaving its confines. The open bay of Apu offers spectacular vistas. Pick up a mooring, dress up in your finest pareo, make for the dock at Marina Iti, and enjoy a delightful French fusion meal with cats and dogs sleeping by your feet. The evening sunset in Baie Apu is more beautiful than any painting you will ever see.

Huahine is located 20 miles east of Raiatea. It is considered the least spoiled of the major Society Islands, and the passes are well marked, as are the reefs. Great surfing and spearfishing can be enjoyed on the reef just off the local bar.

Bora Bora, with its high, sculpted, twin-peaked central mountain, is surrounded by a deep lagoon inside a magnificent barrier reef on which ocean swells break into white spray. Anchoring requires great lengths of chain, but holding is good off the Bora Bora Yacht Club. It’s been said to be the most beautiful island in the Pacific, and with that comes more sophistication: elegant hotels, restaurants and shopping.

You can easily visit all these islands in a one-week charter, but given the commitment to air travel, it would be wise to spend at least two weeks in French Polynesia.

Annie Lannigan is the brokerage manager for Lyman-Morse Boatbuilding, working from the company’s Newport office.

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