| Among the questions that folks ask us pretty regularly are the
following: |
| Did we have enough food? We
were way overstocked with food. We are still pulling food that
we bought in Las Palmas out of the freezer and packaged goods
from out of just about everywhere. On the other hand we ate extremely
well, including a complete Thanksgiving dinner of turkey (breast),
dressing, mashed taters, fresh baked dinner rolls … the works
(yea Andy!). I was determined to eat as "normally" as
possible so I urged Andy (and Marilyn) to splurge. Several boats
ran low on food and a few actually ran out. We weren't even close. |
| Unfortunately the green fruits and vegetables
that we bought ripened on their own schedule and not ours. We
hung the pinion of green bananas in our cabin so they wouldn't
bruise and so there would be good air circulation through the
pinion. We left Las Palmas on a Sunday. For a few days the pinion
just hung their … a bunch of green bananas swaying with the
motion of the boat. Thursday or Friday they all turned yellow
at once. I refer to the few days that followed as the "banana
days". We had bananas au naturel, bananas on cereal, banana
bread, banana pancakes, banana fruit drinks etc. etc. etc. |
| How did we divide the labor? International maritime law requires that all vessels at sea maintain
a watch 24 hours per day. (Single handed sailors obviously break
that law but no one seems to say much about it.) Generally one
tries to schedule regular watch times for each member of the crew
so everyone knows when they're expected to be on deck. When Andy
and I sail Sister by ourselves it's a bit of a trial. We stand
two hour watches at night because we have a tough time saying
awake longer than that. Obviously that means the person who is
not on watch has on two hours at a time to get whatever sleep
he/she can. We generally end up sleeping a lot during the day
to make up for lost hours at night. For a 3-5 day voyage it is
exhausting. Cruisers tell us that after that it becomes more routine
and not nearly so difficult as the first few days. |
| With a crew of 5 the watch schedule is a
breeze, particularly if one of the crew has volunteered to do
all the cooking, Andy in this case. We broke the day up into two
12 hour segments, 0600 to 1800 and 1800 to 0600. On any given
day there were three watch persons. For the 0600 to 1800 segment
each watch person worked one 4 hour watch and was off for two
4 hour watches. For the 1800-0600 segment each watch person worked
two 2 hour watches and was off for four 2 hour watches. Net effect
was that each person worked 4 hours at night and 4 hours during
the day. The fourth watch person got a day off. Each time one
came back from one's day off she would take over a different watch
than he had worked previously. Therefore each of us had a day
off every fourth day and each of us cycled through the complete
watch schedule ... which, some claim, helps minimize the monotony. |
| Did we see other boats?
As darkness fell the first night the sea was chockablock full
of navigation lights from tons o' boats. In the few hours since
the start only the fastest boats had separated themselves from
the fleet enough to be out of sight. Believe it or not though,
by the second night we didn't see anyone else. As the voyage continued
it was pretty routine to see a boat now and then, perhaps every
couple of days, but for the most part we were apparently alone.
Remember, when one stands on the deck of a sailboat the horizon
is approximately 7 miles away. There could be a hundred boats
8 miles away (or 9 or 10 or however far it takes for the other
boats masts to be below the horizon). So, by any stretch of the
imagination we weren't alone. It just seemed like we were alone. |
| Once during one of the many calms, a boat
appeared on the horizon aft of us, ever so slowly they gained
on us until, several hours after first spotting them, they came
alongside. We talked to them a bit then they slid on by us. There
boat was a cruising boat somewhat smaller than Sister. By all
rights we should be a faster boat. They, however, were flying
their spinnaker and making 2-3 knots to our 1-2 knots. I had been
hesitant to fly our spinnaker, it's a huge and difficult to handle
sail, but this embarrassment was too much to take. We broke out
the spinnaker and, after 30 minutes or so of screwing around,
had picked up a knot or two and were now gaining on the fink that
had passed us. We believe we passed them during the night. I don't
know which of us got to St. Lucia first. |
| Did we fish?
Andy and I had done a little fishing with a hand line on our way
to the Canaries. In Las Palmas we bought a rod, reel, line and other
accessories that we thought necessary to get serious about putting
a little fresh fish on the table. We didn't fish much the first
few days ... some of us were a little seasick. A few days out
we assembled the fishing rig and starting trolling. Fishing was
generally good. We caught quite a few Dorado, known also as Mahi
Mahi or Dolphin (not Flipper). Dorado have played a major role
in survival of dozens if not hundreds of shipwrecked sailors.
Story after story relates how Dorado seem to be attracted to the
shadow of a life raft. This attraction and/or curiosity causes
them to get close enough to the raft for the inhabitants to spear,
hook or otherwise capture them. |
| The Dorado we caught were generally small,
3-4 pounds each so we put them back in anticipation of catching
a big one. We never caught a big one and, in the end, we had kept
only one Dorado. After filleting it was enough for one meal for
the skipper. It was fantastic. Later we caught a Wahoo which is
a long skinny fish that resembles a Barracuda. We didn't know what
it was so we put it back as well. It turns out that Wahoo are
some of the best eating fish in the world. |
| Even the little Dorado hit the bait like
a torpedo, the reel would whine as they ran with the bait. Each
time the reel sounded it's alarm crew members popped out of various
nooks and crannies and ran for the aft deck, each hoping to be
the first there so he could try her luck landing the fish. |
| Several times we hooked up with fish that
we couldn't land. They would hit the line particularly hard and
take off with such speed and strength that the rod, reel and fisherman
were simply overpowered. In most of these cases we weren't even
able to slow the fish down in spite of how hard we applied the
reel brake or how hard we pulled on the pole. Inevitably the fish
broke the line and ran off with our expensive lure. |
| As I said, the one Dorado we kept and ate
was delicious. In St. Lucia we're getting more lures and stronger
line and hardware. This fish story ain't over yet. |
| Were there any medical emergencies:
By and large the entire event was pretty "uneventful" medically
speaking.
About half way across we did hear a call for help from a woman
who's husband had suffered a heart attack. He was alive but in
pretty bad shape and she was left to sail the boat by herself.
One of the reasons people decide to join an event like the ARC
is the safety of being near, if not in sight, so many other boats
as you cross. This woman's call for help was answered by at least
two boats. One of the two boats had two doctors in the crew. They
provided medical assistance. The other boat actually put a couple
of their crew on board the heart attack boat and helped the woman
bring it the rest of the way to St. Lucia. |
|
Follow these links to read about:
|
