“The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.” Eleanor Roosevelt
After spending an unplanned month on the island of Bermuda, the stars aligned, everything we were waiting for came together. It was time to continue our journey. We loved our time in Bermuda. It was easy to lay up there in her warm embrace, be captivated by her charm, remain anchored in the protection of her harbor. However, the longest and most difficult part of the journey lie ahead. If we didn’t depart soon, the season to make the 850-mile crossing would quickly come to a close.
Five other boats heading in the same general direction had congregated in Georgetown Harbor waiting for a weather window. Three of us were leftovers from the Salty Dawg Rally. The others had made Bermuda a waypoint before continuing south. We had all been in communication, conferring, discussing, sharing thoughts on the best time to cross. The consensus was that we needed to depart Thursday morning, December 13th, directly after a powerful front had moved through, and two days before the next heavy winds and big seas would build.
Our crew member, Michael, had not been able to make the long layup in Bermuda and boarded another boat in need of crew heading to BVI. This crossing would be the first since our attempt last year, to make an extended trip by ourselves. Our boat buddies, Gary and Maryann aboard s/v Whatever She Wants, assured us they would stick close and together, we would get across the pond safely. They also enjoyed the comfort of a buddy boat for the crossing. The morning of the 13th arrived. At 8 AM sharp a line of 5 boats waited for the customs office to open so we could officially be released to depart Bermuda.
Customs spit us out in intervals, one boat about 30 minutes behind the other. One after another, we heard the call to Bermuda Radio on channel 16, “This is sailing vessel ….., departing Bermuda, bound for the British Virgin Islands.” The request was quickly answered with a few questions about crew, port of destination, and proper completion of paperwork, then, the kind voice would thank them for their visit and wish them well for a safe voyage”. Following the same wind, but on slightly different compass directions, various sized boats drifted out of the harbor, into the ocean, then quickly disappeared from sight. Whatever She Wants tailed in the distance behind us, a comforting dot on the horizon.
The skies were sunny, a strong and steady breeze prevailed allowing us to sail on a pleasant beam reach. Waves were a manageable 4 feet, so I decide the first mile out to throw out our fishing line. Dan had just disappeared below as I fed the line out, the tempting pink squid dancing just under the surface behind us. I picked up a book and settled comfortably into the cockpit. Not 5 minutes later, the line buzzed with an intensity I had never heard before. I knew something BIG was on our hook. I jumped out of the cockpit and ran back to tighten the drag. I tightened it to its fullest and the line still continued to feed out at a frantic pace.
“Uh oh,” I muttered out loud. Afraid to leave and get Dan, afraid to pick up the pole as I felt it would be ripped out of my hands, I frantically tried to reel in the fish with the pole still in the holder. I screamed for Dan and pounding my foot against the deck hoping he would hear me and come to my rescue. No such luck. The fish finally paused a moment after taking out another good section of line. I quickly reeled line back in, trying to make some progress while making a second attempt to get Dan’s attention. I knew this was a battle I was going to lose with the monster on the end of the line.
There were a few more give and takes between us before I finally summoned my loudest yell, my most furious stomping, and gained Dan’s attention. I heard “WHAT?” from below and I answered, “We have a fish – a very big fish on the line!” Dan immediately ran up and struggled to get the pole out of the holder. I assisted, then strapped the support belt to his waist. He transferred the end of the rod into the pocket and began his attempts to reel in the fish. My heart finally stopped pounding, and I watched with a grin as Dan’s struggles began.
After about 5 minutes of Dan reeling, pausing, waiting for the fish to tire, then gain a few more feet, I left to go get some Ibuprophen. I had suddenly developed a pounding headache. When I returned a few minutes later, the battle was still continuing but Dan was finally making some progress. I suspected a shark would appear on the end of the line, but thankfully, it was a tuna that finally surfaced a few feet behind the boat. I was extremely excited. As we battled to get the 25 pound, blackfin aboard, I noticed that the wind had picked up considerably and the waves were starting to build. I had a hard time fileting the beast because of the tuna’s thick skin and I had never dealt with flesh that was 5 inches thick!
By the time we got everything cleaned up and the fish in the freezer, the tempest was beginning to brew. My head was throbbing and I was feeling quite nauseous. This would be a first – catching a fresh fish and not having it for dinner. The last thing I could think about was food at that point. I was just wondering how I was going to get through my night watches.
At 7 PM, Dan was on the single side band (SSB) radio chatting with our group from the Salty Dawg, Whatever She Wants, and Julia Max. Our trio of boats would stay in touch, and talk every morning and evening on the SSB to document our positions and discuss weather reports. Julia Max was already having issues as their jib tore in the building winds, and the couple aboard, in their mid 60’s, had to go on deck in the heavy seas and replace the jib with the spare. The consensus on the weather was that the next few days were going to be rough.
My headaches continued. I had developed a sinus infection that triggered stabbing, migraine-like headaches if I exerted myself in any way. The pounding waves and howling wind did nothing to easy my misery. Dan broke the watches down into short, 3 hour shifts, to give me as much rest as possible. I caught him extending his watches an extra 30 min. to try and give me more sleep. The one cardinal rule we had been taught in all our rally courses, was, “The Captain needs his sleep. He is the most important crew member and when the shit hits the fan, you want him rested!” This sentence kept playing in my mind as all my body wanted to do was drift back into a painless sleep.
Five days of no improvement, and after several sat phone conversations with my sister Carol, a nutritionist, and my daughter Katie, an acupuncturist, I decided to take the antibiotics from our med kit. Unfortunately, they didn’t provide me with immediate relief. To make matters worse, the weather reports seemed to contradict themselves, adding consternation to my pain. The wind seemed to come in a different direction than forecast, and always stronger than predicted. We had one day of flat seas and winds around 10 knots where I finally got to cook some tuna, then back to 20 knots and confused and tumultuous waves.
Both our boat buddies had some type of malfunction during the trip. Julia Max had engine problems and mainsail issues and Sue actually went up the mast and repaired the problem in the rough seas. Boy, did that make me feel like a whimp! Whatever She Wants had fuel filter issues and had to replace those on the fly. I can honestly say that I was glad the only issue we had was my sinus infection.
The morning of day 8 around 10 AM, we were firmly entrenched in the trade winds and howling along between 7 and 8 knots, Whatever She Wants called us on our radio. “WE SEE LAND!” A few miles to our south, they had picked up the hazy outline of a mountain protruding from the sea. Both the islands of Virgin Gorda and Tortola loomed like giants, their faint outlines just barely visible on the horizon. We danced, we shouted, Dan opened a “Land Ho” beer and we celebrated the moment we knew we had made it. The voyage of 1200 miles, from Hampton, Virginia to the British Virgin Islands was almost completed.
The last 4 hours of our trip were tedious, a close reach in large, choppy waves, and winds around 22 knots. But there were smiles plastered on our faces the entire way, and a warm feeling emanating from our hearts. There is no greater feeling than struggling, fearing, persevering through trials, using all of your strength and energy to accomplish a dream, and then finally achieving that goal. We constantly agree that while the path we have chosen to take is difficult, and many can’t understand why we would choose this life, the exhilaration and sense of accomplishment we feel at the end of the passage is what life is truly about.
For the next five months we will traverse the Caribbean and embark on amazing adventures. Then, we will have to face adversity, hardships, and more battles to cross another ocean to Europe. But each time we cross, we will gain more experience and wisdom, learn how to handle our boat better, and be one ocean closer to accomplishing our goal of sailing all the way around this great planet. Our itinerary is fluid and includes visits from family and friends as we are always happy and willing to share this journey. I’m greatly looking forward to having my mother visit in January, as she is struggling with life after recently losing my father, her partner of 67 years. She is the reason I have embarked on this lifestyle as she shared the sailing gene with me. And I know in my heart my father is one more guardian angel to guide and protect us along our way. I dedicate this post to my father, who taught me strength, conviction and courage. The legacy he passed along to his children was one of hard work and perseverance, humor, love, and the ability to get a job done. Thanks dad, I love and miss you. And as surely as the sun reflects like diamonds across the sea at sunset, your love and laughter will always be present in my heart.