 |
        |
 |
Position as of Midnight, Sunday, November 12th, 2006: 28*47.3N
68*12.1W Miles Logged
Since Virginia: He Said: After the storm
passed over us we were left with strong winds right behind us, and very lumpy,
rolly seas. It was like riding a crazy rollercoaster ride with waves coming
from several different directions at once. Once we left the Gulf Stream the
waves settled in behind us at about 8-10 feet, and the larger ones about 12-14
feet. It was very cool sailing, we had only a double-reefed mainsail up and we
were averaging 8-9 knots! The waves would pick us up from behind and it would
be like we were sliding down a big hill, then it would roll on under us and we'd
be in a trough looking at nothing but water ahead and behind
us.
We
weren't having much luck flying a jib as we were running straight downwind, so
we decided to turn slightly East, just enough to be able to get the jib to fly
and keep our speed up. This turned out to be a very good move on our part
as our weather charts showed the best winds were definitely building in the
East. Most of the rest of the fleet kept on heading directly down the course
line and ended up driving right into a dead zone with no wind to be found.
They all
started adding engine hours into their time while we were silently sneaking East
and South on the windshifts to continue sailing on the Northeast winds that were
filling in beside us. This has put them slightly ahead of us in terms of
mileage, but we're still way up there in the ratings when we factor in all the
engine time they owe us.
Things took a different turn on Friday when one of our neighboring boats called a 'Mayday' over the VHF radio. They were only about 10 miles West of us and apparently a crew member had been severly sick almost since our departure from Hampton. They had become sea-sick in the storm and had never recovered... add to that they were now very dehydrated and malnurished from not eating or drinking and had developed a prostate problem that was causing very intense pain. 'Sophisticated Lady' carries an extensive medical kit onboard so we managed to get our fleet surgeon on the SSB radio to find out if there was anything in our kit that may help since we were in close proximity to the vessel in distress. After hearing the symptoms he said that it was too late to be treated medicinally and this patient needed to be in a hospital ASAP. As we were the only vessel close enough to be able to relay VHF information to the doctor via SSB radio, and also had a Satellite phone onboard, we ended up being the co-ordinator with the Coast Guard and setting up an emergency Medivac at Sea! The Coast Guard called us back several times updating position information for the vessel, and medical information about the patient so they could brief the flight surgeon that was on their way. It became very confusing at times as the Coast Guard would ask us questions on the phone, we'd relay over the VHF and then relay the answers, and keep an ear on the SSB radio as well... it starting becoming very difficult to keep everything straight! It was amazing, but less than 3 hours later there was a Coast Guard C-130 on the VHF radio and already in contact with the vessel in distress. The C-130 had been sent to prepare the vessel for a rescue helicopter that was on its way and expected shortly. They had the crew position the boat appropriately for the airlift, then brought in the helicopter and they lifted the patient right off the deck of the sailboat... never even got him wet! It was an emotional time because everyone realized it could have been anyone, and while you never want to have to call on emergency services, it is very nice to know that they are available that fast if you ever need them... even hundreds of miles from shore! After that we got back to sailing our course, and our new favorite pastime... fishing! Dwight insisted that we were going to catch dinner at least once so he came prepared with some new lures to try! We've had a line out the back during most of the daylight hours, but so far haven't been able to catch much of anything except tons of the Sargasso weed that floats on the surface. The rest of the fleet hasn't had much luck with fishing yet either, until today when about 12 boats announced they had made good catches and now had freezers full of fresh fish! The biggest one so far was caught by 'Thumbs Up', it was a tuna about 41" long and 36" around... that's a big fish! Apparently, they caught another one as well, but couldn't get it over the rail and it broke loose... one of those 'big one that got away' stories! lol Saturday we woke up to bad news... the autopilot had
died! Anybody who has done any ocean sailing knows that Mr Auto is our best
friend, so this was very bad news indeed! We immediately took to our new
'fix-it' challenge and started running some tests to find out which part of the
system was the problem. The autopilot would run for about 2 minutes and then
disengage every time. We finally figured out it was in the drive unit so we
removed the drive from the rudder and proceded to dismantle it. We found a
couple of problems, one that even explained why our steering was becoming stiff,
and managed to fix the motor and get the system re-installed and tested in about
4-5 hours... that was very lucky as the thought of having to hand steer 24 hours
a day for the rest of the trip didn't hold much appeal to the crew in the
least!
Our next little repair job at sea involved our topping lift... the line that supports the end of the boom from the masthead. Somehow, it had become detached from the boom and tied itself in a knot in our mainsail reefing lines. I ended up having to climb up and sit on the boom while I tried to untangle the mess. I still haven't figured this one out... the shackle that attaches the line to the boom had obviously come undone, that's how the line came free of the metal bracket at the end of the boom... yet here I was holding the shackle and it was still closed properly and the mount on the boom wasn't broken!?! So how did it come off?? Either we have Gremlins or it was something to do with being in the Bermuda Triangle... at least that's my story and I'm sticking to it!! ;o)
While I
was sitting up there, I remember looking around and thinking about the vast
amount of water surrounding us. Then I thought of the 15,000 feet of water
under us, and here I was standing on the roof of our 'house' that was gracefully
floating across the oceans surface heading for the warm waters of the
Caribbean. It was almost mind-boggling thinking about where we were and what we
were doing, yet here we were doing it.
We're already well past Bermuda and currently sailing over the North American Basin headed directly for the Nares Abyssal Plain. Combined, they are an expanse of flatlands larger than the entire Eastern portion of our continent, yet they exist quietly and peacefully 15,000 feet below the surface of the ocean beneath us. What is really fascinating is to try and imagine all of the lifeforms that exist in the world that lives one level below us... the world below sea level. The sea is the most abundant habitat of life on our planet... There are so many creatures that we know of, yet deep water photography by people like James Cameron would show us that there are so many species and forms of life that exist on our planet that we know absolutely nothing about. They are all less than 4 miles away from us personally right now, yet we will likely never get to see them in our lifetime because that 4 miles is the hardest distance on Earth to cross. As history would show, it was easier to go to the moon than it was to visit the ocean floor of our own planet. Maybe someday that will change, but for now, we can only imagine... Cheers,
Rick She Said: The
water for as far as I can see, is a gentle undulating canvas. There are no
ripples or waves to disturb the surface, only hpnotic orbs of shape and color
flow across the surface in endless patterns of movement. It is almost
impossible to describe in language, words are not old enough, not wise or deep
enough to capture the feeling. The ocean is calm and nurturing today. I feel
caressed and cradled by it and an overwhelming sense of peace and calm fills me.
What a gift to look out and feel no separateness from all that surrounds me. I
am the ocean and it is me. I know that seems very deep and philisophical but
sitting on the bow of the boat and seeing and feeling nothing but this trance
inducing ocean causes one to wonder who are we, what are we doing here and how
do we belong. Flying fish puncture the surface ever so often and skip across
the surface leaving a trail like a stone across the surface of a pond. They
disapper almost before you realize they were there at all. It is a perfect
day. The sky is vast and blue and where is touches the water the illusion that
the world just ends and we will plunge off the edge is
undeniable.
Rick and I are lounging on the deck letting the warm sun soak into our pale Canadian skin and feeling the trade winds cool us. I am listening to our ipod and day dreaming in the moment while Rick taps away on the laptop. Ashley is joyously roaming the deck trying to find the perfect spot to hide her last treasured bit of bone. This is one of those days you want to capture and etch into your brain and never forget. I feel so alive and so happy at this moment and the ocean seems to sense this and reflect it back to me.
Yesterday was the first day on this voyage that I started to enjoy myself. We have been out here for 5 days already and up until today really, it has felt very long and I just wanted it to be done. Getting outside on the deck and feeling the fresh warm breeze and the gentle water has lifted my spirits and made me feel content to be here. The first half was rough and feeling sea sick for days takes so much out of you. Going offshore for any period of time takes a lot of mental and emotional preparation. You have to battle with your fears of isolation, storms and unknowable problems ahead. But also with the thought of 'will I be able to take it , to handle what lies ahead?'. It is the unmatched combination of feelings that occur when you are off shore that you struggle with. Feelings of both isolation and boredom and no real purpose to cling to, to define yourself with. Just to be and to exist. This combined with incidents of both beauty and terror are strange bedfellows. Being
so far from civilization and all that you know creates such a state of
vulnerability and forced independence that it is hard to throw off those lines
and leave the dock. Your world quickly shrinks to only this boat and its
ability to survive the elements. To the ability of you and your crew mates to
maintain and create our own tiny community on this vast ocean. It is a unique
experience where your senses are no longer unindated with the colliding and
never ending messages and media images of the western world. Existance is
simply the water, the wind and the boat.
Tiny events like a floating bottle capture your imagination and fill you with exictment and the romance of a message contained within. These moments would never register or catch our attention in the hectic real world, they would be non-occurances, too insignigcant to even notice. Here they fill your soul and imagination and you luxuriate in thier simplicity. In the possibility that anything could happen.
Cheers,
Terri PS... you can track our progress at www.Carib1500.com , just follow the links to the Rally! |
