Underway aboard Gypsy Wind 20 January 2007
N 24 21.240
W071 09.040
In the movies, one sees the lead and his lady on deck of a sailing
boat on calm seas and yet sailing along nicely, the stars are way too
many and stretch from horizon to horizon. They are dressed
appropriately (which is barely) there are nice little rigging-creaking
and water-slapping-hull noises. The balmy wisps of wind in the
cockpit stir the leading lady’s hair. Think “Joe and the Volcano”,
heh heh. Of course all of us “real” sailors look at that and say…
“Bull!”
And yet here it is come to life… almost. On this trip we have seen
conditions like that a couple times. As I sit here tonight it’s true
that we are motor sailing (making 6 knots out of 2k RPMs), cheating to
get all the easting we can before we get south enough to be in the
trades for real. But last night we were doing it sans motor. It’s
also true that my leading lady is at home (sniff). We have a good
forecast for basically more of the same. One friend simply said…
“Looks like you have some good sailing ahead”. Indeed we do. I have
the midnight to three am watch, the new moon sunk right after sunset.
I’ve figured out how to make a recliner on the cockpit sole using one
of those folding portable seats so my feet are up on the starboard
bench with my toes pointing at Sirius (or is it Betelgeuse?).
Betelgeuse (or is it Sirius?) is reciprocating by splashing her (his?)
light down on the glassy waters back toward me. And did you know that
that star twinkles in colors? Orion is hunting the Pleiades; those
shy sisters are going to give him the slip below the horizon soon. I
can see the 24 mile radar at the nav-station below (it’s blank) and I
get up and stretch once in a while and have a visual look around.
Robert A. Heinlein once described the military as being comprised of
three departments, the Department of Dirty Tricks, the Surprise Party
Department, and the Ferry Godmother Department. I’m paraphrasing here
but bear with me… the Ferry Godmother Department is comprised of one
elderly GS-something clerk typist who occasionally puts down her
knitting to pull a name out of a hat and do something nice for them.
This trip came to me directly out of the blue from the FGD. There may
be hundreds or even thousands of people out tramping around catching
rides on sailboats going here and there around the planet but it’s
still a small pool compared against the ever-increasing number of
yachts going places. So I get offers quite often but there has to be
the right combination of things to get me to go. It should be
someplace I have wanted to go to but have not yet made it. It has to
be a nice, comfortable, hospitable boat; the captain can’t be a jerk.
The expenses have to be paid by the captain/owner (including travel
to and from the boat) and if I can make a few bucks that’s nice too.
In this case a friend from a previous trip, Cliff sent me a message
about this trip from Marsh Harbor in the Abacos to Saint Thomas in the
US Virgin Islands. I’ve been to Marsh Harbor and while I love the
Abacos it wouldn’t have been enough to turn the trick. But St. Thomas
now… a landfall in paradise complete with volcanic mountains that
appear to rise up out of the sea – now that’s something. The captain
was an unknown, and among the few things we did know about him was
that he was an ex-navy orificer (not a good indicator in the “not
being a jerk” department). But Cliff had asked him point blank, “Are
you an asshole”, and after a brief pause Chuck had responded… “Well I
don’t think so”. And Chuck has not been a Jerk to us. He has been a
friend who shares everything on the boat, spins a great yarn, and can
even carry a tune. This boat, Gypsy Wind, is an Island Packet 45. She
is a heavy displacement full keel cruiser that carries 150 gallons of
fuel and 250 gallons of water, and all the toys. When it got “a bit
sporting” out here couple days ago I found the ride to be very
acceptable. She is a cutter rig, and with the luff of the foresail
taught and the traveler on the mainsheet up to the high side she moves
to windward well. Ok ok, so with all that and a slight little kick
from the “iron genny” she moves well to windward. And we need to
pinch those extra few degrees into the wind too for the conventional
wisdom on this route is to “take your easting when you can get it”.
Once we are south enough to be in the trades proper the winds will be
steady from the east and still needing hundreds of miles to get south
we could be pushed down into Puerto Rico or even Hispaniola.
This trip came along at about the right time too. One of my heroes,
Jon Turk, recently summed it up by quoting Melville from Moby Dick.
“Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a
damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself
involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the
rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get
such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to
prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and
methodically knocking
people’s hats off–then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon
as I can.”
While I hadn’t actually taken to knocking peoples hats off, I was
certainly talking to drivers of other cars and cursing traffic lights…
a bad sign.
So. I needed to go to sea, I trusted Cliff’s judgment in the “not a
jerk” department, there was a desirable destination, a paying gig to
boot. Could I afford the time? No. Is it fair to leave Kerri to
fend the fort? No.
Nevertheless here I am.
I have my own “room” in the stern quarter port side. There is a big
comfortable berth; one door leads into the galley and salon while
another leads to the aft head. The head has a big shower that’s
awesome in that it’s a very practical and clever design as well as
functional even in a seaway.
On watch I’m in my recliner. I can stargaze up between the dodger and
bimini canvas to watch the stars. Some ancients held the cosmological
belief that we are just a speck ridding on the slime on the back of a
great turtle. Indeed here I am ridding the wet and slippery surface
of this planet which is also a ship hurtling thru space – a star ship
of sorts. And this star ship must be passing thru space junk because
on each night of this voyage I’ve seen many shooting stars. Enough
meteors to surly qualify as a meteor shower. I’ve counted dozens of
them; 50 in one three hour watch before I got bored with the counting
of them. Some of these meteors break into parts as they burn into the
atmosphere. Some leave blazing smoky trails. I’ve pretty much proved
the wishing on falling stars thing is bunk. I tried it on each of
those occasions and yet Kerri never did appear beside me.
The Koreans have a saying; “to begin well is to be half finished”.
When we left Marsh harbor we had an escort of spotted dolphins. A
small pod including what I took to be a family complete with a baby.
I took up memory on the chip in my camera trying for a good shot of
them despite the poor light. I’ve just checked them and found one
with the baby just nosing back into the water after going flying on a
great leap! It’s a great photo. A little later I described my green
flash experiences to Chuck and Cliff. We talked about it at length as
the great orange orb sank into a nearly straight-line horizon. And
low and behold! We were rewarded with one of those celestial
emeralds. Talk about beginning well! Two wonderful omens.
Tune in next time when we encounter Caribbean Contrails or Pilots of
the Caribbean!
Love
George