second day out…
28°56’.35 N
080°32’.12 W
open water at sunset
Power off, flashlight in hand, waves lapping up the port side of the vessel, I let out the biggest yawn known to man-no power equals no coffee-pure torture. My 5am shift was going to be a long one, but thankfully Nick #2 was there to fish-hook me every time I let out any sign of exhaustion-men. With a full moon high in the sky, I could see the lights of St. Augustine glittering off my port windows and endless water off my starboard. As the sun rose and the sky lit anew, Nick and I wasted no time gathering our supplies. Nick #2 woke up the next watchman as I threw on my all-weather jacket and sandals. With cast off help of Nick #1, Nick #2 and I flung our bodies straight over the
lowering the anchor...the first time
railings and into the skiff below sky-rocketing to shore…towels in hand I couldn’t get out of the boat soon enough-hot showers baby! I know, only two days out and I already missed the sound of a flushing toilette and hot water beating against my back. As we neared the dock, I extended my arm so far out I had the bow line tied and secured before nick could even get the stern in position. The next thing I knew I was holding myself up in the shower trying to wave off the imaginary tossing and turning of the sea below my feet…oh the things I have yet to look forward to!
The rest of the day I spent in my bunk….sleeping. With my port windows blocked, my cabin has become a time vortex. I could wake at any point in the day and never know the real time…dangerous?? I think NOT! It was only when the sound of the port engine being lit off that I woke with a startle. Hoping out of bed to investigate upper deck activities, my stomach felt a bit uneasy. I poked my head up through the aft stairway and was met with eerie silence. Moving slowly through the open salon room towards the bridge, I took note of the drastic change in weather. The sky was grey with darker clouds looming in fast. The wind speed was up over 20 knots and white caps had blanketed the water as far as my eyes could see. The boat was rocking significantly more and the bridge radio was repeating words of thunder storm and water spout warnings. Standing in the bridge the faces of my fellow crew members were bleak and unreadable. Looking at Ben my facial expression read of confusion only to be answered with the one thing no maritime wants to ever hear: “Man overboard. Nick went down with the skiff”. The coast guard and the tow-boat service were communicating with Ben on our radio-no time for questions. Keeping a steady eye on the water I noticed land off our starboard side…LAND? What? What was going on here? Sky emerged in the bridge shortly after and we both stood watching nick #2 and Bryan on our bow. Ben looked at us, the radio crackled with news that our crew member Nick #1 was safe, and that our skiff had been salvaged as well. With sighs of relief, tension shifted to our other problem-we were drifting and fast. Bryan, Nick #2, and I grabbed our jackets and stood outside. We had to keep track of our anchor chain, watch for changing depths, and keep bearings on surrounding objects.
navigating at the helm
Standing in the bridge, Ben at the wheel, I stood at the ready repeating his orders over our loud speaker. Sky, Bryan, and Nick #2 stood up at the bow each working hard at their own task. Sky diligently worked to make sure Ben understood where the anchor chain was at all times. Nick #2 stood holding the radio communicating with Ben a plan of action, while directing Bryan who was working hard at controlling the hydraulic power to our anchor windless. I couldn’t believe what was happening here. The weather took a turn for the worse and faster than I could blink my eyes. Our boat was bouncing around the open channel like a bobble toy in a wave pool. The anchor kept dragging freely about the bottom of the sea floor as we tried helplessly to avoid other boats, markers and land. Everyone reconvening in the bridge for a new plan of action-and a call to our captain who was waiting anxiously on the dock-we decided to raise anchor. Everyone went back into position with Sky and I trading places. Again and again we tried to pull the anchor up with the chain getting caught in the bow roller. At one point the anchor chain was locked, there was a boat off our starboard bow and immediately off our port was a channel marker. With the current pushing us one way and the wind thrashing us around the other way we scraped up against the piling with my hand barely escaping as I leaned over with a fender. With numerous attempts we finally managed to successfully raise the anchor and reposition ourselves safely once more. Twice we lowered and raised our anchor before it finally hooked into the bottom of the sea dragging us no more. With flawless timing our captain was able to re-board. Literally, as if right out of a movie, the wind died down, the sea stopped churning, the anchor bit, just as our captain threw a line over from a borrowed dingy below. Real nice. We all voted-we were going to chain his ankle to the wheel house…never again will bad weather run up on us like that with him on shore!
into the sun
We survived! We acted accordingly, communicated, got the job done, and successfully managed a scary situation with no dramatic freak-outs. Calm tempers, clear voices, and positive words, our crew handled two tough problems as a team. I was proud, we all were proud, and I knew then that my life was in good hands if ever a bad circumstance hit us again.
Breathing easy, I watched as the sun went down over the west horizon. With the words “what the sea wants the sea gets” running through my mind I didn’t smile. I know full well that when things go bad on the ocean it happens fast and with no room to spare. We survived this time, but I can’t help the chill running down my arms as I felt the sea shaking its finger at me-at us. The sea is telling us” this time I let you free, next time you might be fighting to win”.
I turn to go inside, tomorrow is a new day, but this sailor knows: never turn your back to the ocean…
