The First Attempt: Hope Meets Heartbreak
We thought we were ready. Our boat was in great shape, we were fully provisioned, and favorable winds promised a push to the equator and into the trade winds that would carry us 3,000 miles to French Polynesia. Everything seemed aligned.
We even reunited with our boat buddies on S/V Charisma, a faster, bigger boat. Though we wouldn’t sail side by side, we planned to stay within range for companionship and support. But no sooner had we left the dock than the trouble began—our engine sputtered and died, though Dan managed to revive it each time.
We made it to Veneo Harbor to prepare for our jump-off, and at 4 AM, we motored out into the darkness… only to have the engine die again ten minutes later. Dan looked at me and said what we were both thinking: “Do we really want to cross the Pacific with an unreliable engine?” The answer was clear. We had to turn back.
Watching Charisma sail off into the sunrise while we pointed the bow toward Panama was a heartbreaking moment. Our journey back was rough: upwind, against the current, relying heavily on that same questionable engine. As the wind built to 20 knots and waves pounded our boat, water leaked into the cabin, soaking our forward berth. Miserable and defeated, I told Dan, “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
Back to Panama: A Blessing in Disguise
We limped into La Playita and got a slip at the marina. The engine overhaul began immediately, and it turned out to be a very good thing. Our turbocharger needed serious repairs, seals were leaking, and the engine wouldn’t have lasted much longer.
The workers were incredible—within five days, everything was fixed, and we were ready to go again. But now, the wind had disappeared. Not wanting to waste time in the marina, we sailed to the Las Perlas Islands to wait for better weather.
The Second Attempt: Pain and Parasites
After a lovely week exploring Las Perlas, we saw a decent weather window—some wind, some motoring. Not ideal, but workable. We returned to Veneo Harbor for a second launch. I had concerns as we had used all our fresh food during our week delay, but I knew we had the food in our freezer and our canned provisions. That night, Dan’s sun-damaged lips (from rigging work weeks earlier) suddenly flared into painful, infected blisters.
We faced a brutal choice: cross the ocean and hope he recovered, or turn back for medical help. Once again, with heavy hearts, we place our priorities on health and turned around.
We returned to Vista Mar, where we’d spent five months previously, to regroup. As we tied up in our slip, Dan noticed our freezer was beeping, much to our chagrin, we had just lost our freezer. The thermostat had failed. Had we left, we would’ve lost all the food we had prepared and frozen for the crossing. Dan was able to do a work-around and use the shore power to keep our freezer cold.
Dan self-medicated, ordered the replacement part, and a few extras, and some other items on our wish list, hoping everything would arrive quickly. Miraculously, he healed over the next couple of days. But now, it was my turn.
The Mystery Rash Finally Solved
Here’s the backstory: When we crossed the Atlantic a year ago, Dan had a strange rash on his chest. He got better—but weeks later, I got it. Mine didn’t go away. It spread across my body and stayed for months. We saw doctors in three countries as we traveled through the Caribbean, had blood work done and medications prescribed, but nothing helped. Oddly, when I left the boat, the rash would disappear. We thought surely, I had to be allergic to something on the boat.
Back at Vista Mar, the rash returned worse than ever. I was skeptical about another doctor visit, but we went to a small clinic in Coronado. Within 20 minutes, a young doctor saw me. She looked barely 30. My expectations were low—until she took one look and said she knew exactly what it was.
She had grown up in the jungle, later trained as a tropical disease specialist, and my symptoms lit her up. She confided that this was exactly why she became a doctor. She broke down her diagnosis. Bloodwork confirmed it: I had a jungle parasite. Apparently, it can infect one person in a family while others stay healthy. Dan could fight it off. I couldn’t.
She prescribed everything I needed—and when Dan asked if she’d help stock our boat’s medical kit (a big ask, especially in the U.S.), she agreed without hesitation. She added even more to our list. This woman was a gift from heaven.
Healing, Reprovisioning, and Ready to Go
The bill? Just $50 for everything: the consult, bloodwork, and writing the prescriptions. The pharmacy took an hour to fill all our meds, and $300 later, we had an arsenal of medical supplies for the boat.
As we waited for the final parts to arrive, we ran into familiar cruisers also stuck in port, delayed by various mechanical problems. It helped to know we weren’t alone in our setbacks. We knew of at least four other boats that also set out and had to return.
Everything seemed to fall into place: Dan healed, I got diagnosed and treated, the parts all arrived on time, the freezer was fixed, we reprovisioned, and—finally—the wind began to fill in.
Departure Day: This Time Feels Right
We’re setting off tomorrow morning—Saturday, May 31—for what we hope will be our true crossing. The last two times we left, I had a strange uneasiness in my gut. This time, I feel calm. I feel hopeful. I feel ready.
We’ll share updates from sea whenever we can. This crossing has taught us patience, trust, and that sometimes the delay is the blessing. If you’re out here cruising too, know this: turning back doesn’t mean you’ve failed. It means you’ve listened. The one recurring theme in our seven years of sailing is: we are exactly where we are, when we are meant to be there.
Here’s to fair winds, working engines, healing hands, and freezer alarms that don’t beep.
Captain Dan and First Mate Alison
S/V Equus
ANNOUCEMENT! We are close to completing the editing of the sequel to our first book: Riding the Waves of Reality: Tales of Turmoil and Triumph. If you liked the first book… you are going to love the sequel. If you thought the first book was a wild ride, you are going to need a seatbelt for the second! Subscribe to my author newsletter on my author page to get updates and sneak peeks!