Tonight’s dinner: fried Spam slices and Wheat Thins (low sodium)… a surprisingly delectable duo…
A have a lot of catching up to do on this post. We have been on the go, more-or-less, for almost a full week now (at least at the time I’m writing this, I won’t be able to post it for a few days or so). The rate at which we have been learning very important lessons has been phenomenal, or at least it started that way and has tapered off slowly. To give an example let me list the lessons we learned on the first day, or leg really, of our trip.
1. Plan ahead. Don’t just leave saying that you’ll stop where the winds take you. We learned this when pulling into an inlet we hoped to stay in for the night and only then realizing the Blue Sky was to big to get under the bridge. Before you go, pick and final destination, particularly one that is attainable. When sailing down the Atlantic Coast, there aren’t exactly any comfortable places to park for the night without going into an inlet, harbor, etc. If you anchor near the shore you get pounded by waves all night long; not fun, especially if you have been fighting sea-sickness the whole time (Alex).
2. Before having the Coast Guard come rescue your ass, check the connections on the battery. And yes, we had the Coast Guard out hunting for us the first night. What happened was, soon after realizing we couldn’t get in the first inlet we hoped for we had to turn the engine off for a second because I dropped a funnel down into the engine well. Then, upon attempting to restart the engine, we decide that the power drain problem that we thought we had finally got the best off us, being that the engine wouldn’t even turn over after the first couple tries. We couldn’t use the sails because there was no wind (the reason we were running the engine in the first place). So there we sat dead in the water, or so we thought, drifting toward shore with lightening storms on all sides. We inform Alex’s dad of the predicament and he calls the coast guard. We eventually get an anchor down and sit there for an hour and a half listening to the Coast Guard put out the equivalent of an all-points-bulletin for us every so often on the distress channel of our VHF radio. When they finally find us, we talk for a bit and they decide to come on board to check things out. 5 minutes later, after Allen the coast-guardsman tightens the wing nut on the battery we are off. Embarrassing. Also, apparently all coast-guardsmen refer to each other and everyone else as ‘Bubba’. Gets to be confusing really.
3. Sailing through the night sucks. After our lame rescue we had another 25 miles to go for a safe anchoring. That took us until about 7:30 the next morning. We took shifts, but to our dismay the sleeping person was interrupted every 30 minutes by the coast guard on the radio checking on our progress.
4. Make sure the jib lines aren’t hanging off the boat. (The jib lines are the ropes that control the front sail, or jib.) Once in the inlet, and after the sun had risen, we ended up getting one of the jib lines stuck in the propeller. This icing on the cake was not what either of us in very grumpy moods needed, but all it took was a quick anchoring and dive under the boat.
5. Buy charts for where you are going. It took us another two hours to find a place to anchor once in the inlet, because we didn’t know the depths of the area and had to go around real slow looking for a good spot.
And that was all on the first night. After that we slept for about 3 hours and headed south again. The next day went much better and we made it to a very nice anchoring for the night without much trouble. We slept for a good 11 hours and woke up not a second to late to see that our anchor had come loose and we were within feet off running into a dock and the shore. If we had literally been 5 seconds later getting up we would have been really screwed. Strange that the anchor held for 11 hours then decided to give, but we witched to a larger anchor shortly there after. Lesson number 6 I suppose.
The next also day wasn’t too terrible despite bad winds, Alex’s sea-sickness and a broken toilet that left a non-too-pleasant odor for us to enjoy. At this point moral was dangerously low, and the fate of the rest of the trip was in serious jeopardy. If Alex would have said screw it, which he almost did, I would have said right on. We had been working our asses off for several days, fighting opposing winds and currents, making hardly any ground. It sucked, but then along comes West Palm Beach which included Alex’s dad, a Marina to stay in versus anchoring, good food, calm waters, other people besides me and Alex, and the first shower in 4 days. Damn that shower was nice. We are still in West Palm Beach, this being our fourth night. The first night was in anchor, as well as tonight, but the middle two were at the marina. We spent one full day at the marina finishing a final list of repairs, including the toilet, and today we spent anchored off the coast, snorkeling, reading, and basically chilling. We even got to swim with a 4 and a half foot shark for a while, though it wasn’t planned that way. It did give me a chance to seriously confront one of my strongest phobias, and I came out with all of my limbs intact.
Tomorrow, or tonight rather at 3 A.M. we depart for the Bahamas where things should finally become enjoyable. But first a few more side notes:
We have pulled in two fish so far, a nice sized King Mackeral and a shark-sucker, one ugly bastard.
I am still Captain by way of the poker games and the overall score right now is me 9, Alex 7.
I learned to read. I actually read a 350 page book in 4 days, which is actually my second book of the trip… for pleasure non-the-less! Who would have thunk-it. Its cool though. Books are a lot like T.V. minus the commercials, which is great.
No serious sunburns so far, only minor ones, and a large assortment of bruises, scrapes and missing chunks of flesh. This sailing business is hard work.
As far as L.A., yeh fucking right. As far as Panama, it would take the Gods of wind, currents and luck all getting really drunk and screwing up big time. As far as us even leaving the Caribbean aside from coming home, not likely at this point. So get a week off and come meet us.
New Updates Since I Wrote This:
Poker Score: Me 10, Alex 7
Correction: The winds during that first storm were 60 to 80 not 45 to 60. It was a freak.
1. Plan ahead. Don’t just leave saying that you’ll stop where the winds take you. We learned this when pulling into an inlet we hoped to stay in for the night and only then realizing the Blue Sky was to big to get under the bridge. Before you go, pick and final destination, particularly one that is attainable. When sailing down the Atlantic Coast, there aren’t exactly any comfortable places to park for the night without going into an inlet, harbor, etc. If you anchor near the shore you get pounded by waves all night long; not fun, especially if you have been fighting sea-sickness the whole time (Alex).
2. Before having the Coast Guard come rescue your ass, check the connections on the battery. And yes, we had the Coast Guard out hunting for us the first night. What happened was, soon after realizing we couldn’t get in the first inlet we hoped for we had to turn the engine off for a second because I dropped a funnel down into the engine well. Then, upon attempting to restart the engine, we decide that the power drain problem that we thought we had finally got the best off us, being that the engine wouldn’t even turn over after the first couple tries. We couldn’t use the sails because there was no wind (the reason we were running the engine in the first place). So there we sat dead in the water, or so we thought, drifting toward shore with lightening storms on all sides. We inform Alex’s dad of the predicament and he calls the coast guard. We eventually get an anchor down and sit there for an hour and a half listening to the Coast Guard put out the equivalent of an all-points-bulletin for us every so often on the distress channel of our VHF radio. When they finally find us, we talk for a bit and they decide to come on board to check things out. 5 minutes later, after Allen the coast-guardsman tightens the wing nut on the battery we are off. Embarrassing. Also, apparently all coast-guardsmen refer to each other and everyone else as ‘Bubba’. Gets to be confusing really.
3. Sailing through the night sucks. After our lame rescue we had another 25 miles to go for a safe anchoring. That took us until about 7:30 the next morning. We took shifts, but to our dismay the sleeping person was interrupted every 30 minutes by the coast guard on the radio checking on our progress.
4. Make sure the jib lines aren’t hanging off the boat. (The jib lines are the ropes that control the front sail, or jib.) Once in the inlet, and after the sun had risen, we ended up getting one of the jib lines stuck in the propeller. This icing on the cake was not what either of us in very grumpy moods needed, but all it took was a quick anchoring and dive under the boat.
5. Buy charts for where you are going. It took us another two hours to find a place to anchor once in the inlet, because we didn’t know the depths of the area and had to go around real slow looking for a good spot.
And that was all on the first night. After that we slept for about 3 hours and headed south again. The next day went much better and we made it to a very nice anchoring for the night without much trouble. We slept for a good 11 hours and woke up not a second to late to see that our anchor had come loose and we were within feet off running into a dock and the shore. If we had literally been 5 seconds later getting up we would have been really screwed. Strange that the anchor held for 11 hours then decided to give, but we witched to a larger anchor shortly there after. Lesson number 6 I suppose.
The next also day wasn’t too terrible despite bad winds, Alex’s sea-sickness and a broken toilet that left a non-too-pleasant odor for us to enjoy. At this point moral was dangerously low, and the fate of the rest of the trip was in serious jeopardy. If Alex would have said screw it, which he almost did, I would have said right on. We had been working our asses off for several days, fighting opposing winds and currents, making hardly any ground. It sucked, but then along comes West Palm Beach which included Alex’s dad, a Marina to stay in versus anchoring, good food, calm waters, other people besides me and Alex, and the first shower in 4 days. Damn that shower was nice. We are still in West Palm Beach, this being our fourth night. The first night was in anchor, as well as tonight, but the middle two were at the marina. We spent one full day at the marina finishing a final list of repairs, including the toilet, and today we spent anchored off the coast, snorkeling, reading, and basically chilling. We even got to swim with a 4 and a half foot shark for a while, though it wasn’t planned that way. It did give me a chance to seriously confront one of my strongest phobias, and I came out with all of my limbs intact.
Tomorrow, or tonight rather at 3 A.M. we depart for the Bahamas where things should finally become enjoyable. But first a few more side notes:
We have pulled in two fish so far, a nice sized King Mackeral and a shark-sucker, one ugly bastard.
I am still Captain by way of the poker games and the overall score right now is me 9, Alex 7.
I learned to read. I actually read a 350 page book in 4 days, which is actually my second book of the trip… for pleasure non-the-less! Who would have thunk-it. Its cool though. Books are a lot like T.V. minus the commercials, which is great.
No serious sunburns so far, only minor ones, and a large assortment of bruises, scrapes and missing chunks of flesh. This sailing business is hard work.
As far as L.A., yeh fucking right. As far as Panama, it would take the Gods of wind, currents and luck all getting really drunk and screwing up big time. As far as us even leaving the Caribbean aside from coming home, not likely at this point. So get a week off and come meet us.
New Updates Since I Wrote This:
Poker Score: Me 10, Alex 7
Correction: The winds during that first storm were 60 to 80 not 45 to 60. It was a freak.
2 Comments:
The bahamas are notorious for their butt pirates.
if elite is on you then panama here we come
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