Oyster News 49 - Oyster Yachts

‘ When he was told
it would take him 20
years at Eastman Kodak
to become a vice
president, he left and
joined The Hallmark Card
Company where he was
asked to run the
computer programming
division. The fact that he
knew little about
computers didn’t stop
him. He learned
’
24 www.oystermarine.com
They both hasten to say they dated other
people through high school, but the die
was cast when they first met and they
both knew it. They have been best friends
ever since.
The two of them quietly planned Bob’s
retirement in 1997, confirming it by placing
an order for an Oyster 485.
Why an Oyster? They wanted a "real blue
water boat" for extensive cruising. Oyster’s
big deck saloon windows that provide a
light, open feeling below was a factor, and
they liked Oyster’s reputation for aftersales
service (little did they know they
would give that reputation the acid test).
The 485 was the biggest boat they thought
the two of them could handle.
A year or so later their boat was ready, and
among the charges was a $50,000 bill for
shipping the boat to the United States. Jan
Crandall suggested the much less
expensive plan of sailing the boat across the
Atlantic. "After all, it is a sailboat," she had
said. "And it would be a great adventure."
Bob agreed, although neither of them had
spent as much as one night offshore. But
they had sailed a lot, first in a 25-foot daysailor,
then cruising for ten years on a C&C
35. "Yes, crossing the pond was a big jump,
but no matter," Bob Crandall says with a
shrug. "Sailing is sailing."
Jan says Bob’s retirement had something
to do with her suggestion. "I couldn’t
imagine how Day One of retirement would
go when Bob asked, `Well what do I do
now?’ So we gave him something to do
that required his full attention."
While looking at a sister 485 during the
search for the right boat, the Crandalls had
met Martin Tate, a professional sailor who
was doing after-sales and commissioning
work for Oyster at the time. Tate is a salty
bloke from Yorkshire, England, who has
sailed since childhood. He’s crossed the
Atlantic three times single-handed;
voyages he doesn’t feel are worth talking
about. "It’s a personal thing," he says in a
rich, North Country accent. "I’m a sailor. I
just did it. If the truth were known, I
couldn’t afford the airfare."
The Crandalls liked the cut of Tate’s jib,
and signed him up for the transatlantic
passage. On May 20, 1998, the Crandalls
left Dallas/Fort Worth airport after a
rousing send off by thousands of American
employees lining the taxiway, and with
water cannons dousing their aircraft. They
flew to Ipswich, Suffolk, boarded the boat
they had christened Arway at Fox’s
Marina, where Oyster Marine is located,
and four days later they set sail. Their
route took them into the North Sea,
through Dover Straits, and west through
the English Channel. For Jan, it was the
worst part of the trip. They bobbed about
like a cork most of their first night out.
Then it started to blow. "Oh I didn’t like
England," she says with a shiver. "Wind
and waves were on the nose, I was half
sick and frozen...I remember thinking,
`Why did I volunteer for this?’"
After a stop in Southampton to have the
radar repaired, they set course for the
Azores. With just three people on board,
devising a good watch system is a
challenge. Tate would go off for a nap at 4
pm. At 6 pm, Jan would make sandwiches
to be eaten during the night, and then go off
watch. Martin would relieve Bob at 10 pm
and stand until 2 am alone, when both Jan
and Bob would relieve him. At first light, Bob
would leave Jan on watch alone until either
Martin or Bob awoke. Once into the rhythm,
Crandall says the system worked well.
Two hundred and fifty miles out of
Southampton, Arway’s water maker quit.
Seven days from the Azores, they
decided to press on with the 70
remaining gallons of water. They used
salt water for the toilets and for cooking
when possible, rationed coffee, and
eliminated showers. They made it by
draining the hot water tank the last day
for coffee. It turned out all the water
maker needed was a larger fuse.
On leg two, 450 miles out of the Azores
bound for Bermuda, they encountered
their first storm. Half a day into it, Arway’s
electronics failed, from boat speed
indicator to autopilot. With a crew of
three, the autopilot is a very valuable
player. With 1,700 miles to Bermuda, there
was nothing to do but turn back. They ran
smack into a larger storm, with 50-knot
winds and 15-foot seas. "Sailing at night,
in high winds and blinding rain and big