Thursday overnight February 16, 2012
Friday morning looked good. I made chicken salad, at Fred’s request, and before I finished, we were on our way about 11:00 am. The coral heads were all over the place and I cringed as we went by every one of them. In no time we were in the swelling seas as poked our noses around the island. It was a go. All of the sudden I got this terrific headache and was feeling queasy. I had a seasick patch on but if this was the problem, it wasn’t working this time. I had to lay down, and Fred wouldn’t let me go below, knowing it was going to be worse. Finally I just went anyway. The queasiness settled but the headache was still pounding. ‘I hope this isn’t a migraine’ I thought. It has been years since I had one of those. This was not the time to get one again. Fred gave me something for it and I slept for a few hours. The headache was gone but I still felt seasick. The whole night went that way. Taking the helm seemed to help some as I took my fair share of shifts. The seas were a bit bigger than expected, and we took on a few 10 foot waves. It’s really weird seeing a 10 foot wall of water coming towards you then all of the sudden we were on top of it and in a swoosh we rode it back down. I suggested we eat dinner as the sunset. I took a few bites and couldn’t eat anything more. Sick again. I was starving! I ate a few crackers and sipped on some root beer. I was doomed. s/v “Island Girl” stayed within sight through the whole trip. It was comforting to know we weren’t the only sailing vessel out there. It was dark and again, my shift. Fred was below getting some rest when all of the sudden the GPS as well as the auto pilot went black. The wind gauge was still working which was my only means of direction. I called Fred and he came up. We didn’t know what was going on. He started asking questions and he said if both the GPS and the auto pilot were off, then the wind indicator should have gone off also since they were all three connected anyway. ‘Hey’, I thought ‘I’m just the Admiral, relieving you of the helm so you can rest. I know nothing about these electronic things, I just follow them’. He rebooted it and everything was okay. We got back on course and he went below to resume his sleep. If I were Fred, I would be worried leaving me at the helm and sleeping but he seems to be okay with it. I can only handle the boat when things are going well. When things break on my shift, which seems the norm, then I am clueless. He’s braver than I am I believe! About 8:00 I took the helm for my 2 hour shift. I let him sleep until about 11 when, of coarse, on my shift...something happened. The auto pilot was not working. I couldn’t steer the boat so I threw the autopilot lever up and tried to stay on course to no avail. I called Fred...again...and even though I didn’t know what was going on, I was pretty certain the autopilot was broke. I quickly gave him the helm and stayed next to him in case he needed me to do something (like I knew what I was doing but remained the faithful Admiral who never leaves her Captains side in peril). Casa Mare was all over the place. He asked what that boat was ahead of us and I said, “Island Girl” but they were behind us a few minutes ago. I think we are heading towards them. It was hard to get our bearings, pitch dark, no moon yet, that came up at 2 am, and the seas were not the smoothest. I should go back and see our GPS track because I was pretty certain we looked like a fleeing mouse going in every direction during this ordeal. “Turn the bow towards the glowing lights ahead” I said to Fred. “What glowing lights?” “the ones over there” I said pointing. He was irritated, he could not see the direction I was pointing it was so dark. I took the flashlight and tried that but we were turning too fast. Finally I said “here, let me steer for a second, I will direct us to the lights.” He reluctantly gave up the helm and asked “What’s with the lights?” “I think they are the lights of Luperon, I am not sure but the GPS has been pointing us to the glow so lets get back towards the glow”. He said “Luperon is not big enough to glow in the dark.” I replied “Well, even so, the GPS has been sailing us towards them, wherever they are”. They were not really lights per se, it was just a glow on the horizon of this pitch black night and it was where we were headed so I took that as a reference point on my shift. Back on course, Fred quickly accessed the problem. “Broke a belt” he said. I asked the next very important question…“you do have another one right?” “Yes” and that was the end of our easy trip. We had to hand steer for the next 8 hours. ‘No problem’ I thought. ‘My brother steers his boat by hand all the time. That’s what sailors do. Now we are ‘real sailors’ except, we had the GPS! Fred took the helm and I took the next. And so on. It was hard to see the sails to trim them and the sailing was rough but we continued towards the light! My shoulders were killing me by the time we reached Luperon. I could smell the island. It smelled like a forest, something I had not smelled for a few months. It smelled good. I couldn’t see it but I could certainly sniff it out. Then I smelled bacon. I was starving, queasy and wanted off that boat and breakfast in front of me. We got to Luperon just at sunrise and waited for more light before we entered the anchorage. It was beautiful. Water spouting out of blow holes along the rocky shore, mountains in the background. I knew the town was waking up, waiting for my breakfast order of eggs and bacon. I thought I deserved a breakfast out. We came into the anchorage, hit bottom twice and soon enough “PaPo” was at our side. “Throw me a line” he said. Fred was saying “How much?” “One line” he replied after the line went into the water. I was tired. $50.00 a month for ball (mooring ball). I thought if Fred doesn’t pay that I will! He did. Finally we made it to Luperon, where things are cheaper and smelled like dirt. Ahhhhh...Luperon!
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