Jul 12

Written by:
7/12/2009 6:05 AM 

Three days nineteen hours to run off 200 miles. When you have to beat down a wall with your head you might as well get to it. To say I wasn't looking forward to this leg of the trip would be a bit like calling World War II a minor skirmish. I was a bit down, alone, lonely in fact, and the weather forecast was as bad as it could get without being just bad enough to make me scrap the whole idea of going when I did. However, the boat prep done, I set off last Wednesday to start ticking off the miles East that I so dearly need before I can make my turn South for Colombia and Panama. I found the difficult crossing I was expecting, but I also found something else along the way.

Day one was a test of wills between myself and mother nature. I was convinced I could find a way to sail into the wind that would minimize fuel usage and make the ride easier. I tried every combination of sail that I had, but could never manage to point better than 55 degrees into the wind which made for less velocity in the right direction than if I just motored directly into the wind. So, Jargo and I did our best to imitate a trawler and hoisted the mizzen sail alone to act as a stabilizing sail, pointed the bow into the wind, and set the autopilot. Half defeated, I watched the full moon rise that first night and as though it had strings tied to it, it brought my spirit up along with it.

This worked very well for the first 36 hours, but with the third squall that brought winds up to 40 knots the ancient and weather worn mizzen sail gave up the ghost. It was a sickening noise that made me look up the mast only to find my poor sail torn into two from back to front. No more stabilizing sail which means the next two and half days were very, very rolly. Amazingly, and this is where I started to notice a difference, I never felt the slightest pang of seasickness. With no sails to tend and the steering left to the autopilot I had ample time to eat, sleep, and even read. I was able to settle into a life on the water I'd not yet experienced on a crossing. Despite the occasional tempest raging outside, everything was somehow at peace.

As Jargo tended herself through squall after squall and at least one tropical wave I was left to fish and maintain the boat. I was landing one fish a day bringing home a great barracuda, shark, and finally, a black fin tuna. All were set loose but the tuna and I can't tell you how amazingly good it is to eat fresh caught tuna from the sea. Pictures to come when I have more bandwidth.

I sit now at Cayo Vivorillo and am about to go down for a long deep sleep. When I wake I'll begin a brief clean up of the boat and prepare for the second leg of this passage. I don't know yet if I'll even go ashore here as I am anxious to make Isla Provedencia. As this blog goes up I'll be pulling down weather info to help make my decision. I am low on fuel, have too much sediment in the fuel tank that is clogging the fuel line, and am a bit low on fresh groceries. I am ready to move, but first a good sleep.