2/19, Presidents’ Day
Bruce called the exit conditions yesterday our baptism. I call them more of the bad weather luck we’ve been having all along. We pulled up the anchor and motor-sailed out to the bay, lined on both sides with coral reefs and breaking seas. Just as we got outside the opening to the bay, we could see a black sky bearing down on us. Black. Our chart indicated breaking rocks a half-mile in front of us, so all eyes were scanning for them.
Just then the block on the mainsheet popped loose and our world turned to water … water from the sky, sea water crashing over us and a few spills down below. I thought we were in a Hitchcock horror movie, or maybe a special sailing episode of “Survivor.” Frankly, I was hoping to get voted “off the island.” We couldn’t turn back because the entrance was obscured by a dark mass; we couldn’t run off to the east because of the many rocks and small islands that were also shrouded in darkness; and we couldn’t tack because the land was too close.
At the worst possible moment during the squall, our position indicated the breaking rocks were right under us. All we could do was continue scanning for them and keep pushing north. Visibility was a mere 200 feet and driving rain was stinging our skin and eyes. The only positive aspect of the frightening conditions was the fact that the torrential rain calmed the sea.
Once the rain slowed, Bruce began to fix the mainsheet block. We never did figure out where those boat-crushing rocks were, which means we escaped them safely.
Jan
Just then the block on the mainsheet popped loose and our world turned to water … water from the sky, sea water crashing over us and a few spills down below. I thought we were in a Hitchcock horror movie, or maybe a special sailing episode of “Survivor.” Frankly, I was hoping to get voted “off the island.” We couldn’t turn back because the entrance was obscured by a dark mass; we couldn’t run off to the east because of the many rocks and small islands that were also shrouded in darkness; and we couldn’t tack because the land was too close.
At the worst possible moment during the squall, our position indicated the breaking rocks were right under us. All we could do was continue scanning for them and keep pushing north. Visibility was a mere 200 feet and driving rain was stinging our skin and eyes. The only positive aspect of the frightening conditions was the fact that the torrential rain calmed the sea.
Once the rain slowed, Bruce began to fix the mainsheet block. We never did figure out where those boat-crushing rocks were, which means we escaped them safely.
Jan
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