Passage

Some might say that it is the very definition of madness to winter over in Maine and leave for the tropics as summer begins to burst onto the scene. Those people would be absolutely correct. Nevertheless, that is just what we have done. The trip from Portland to Grenada took us within shouting distance of Bermuda, was entirely upwind, and graced us with a Gulf Stream crossing that was a low scale version of the worst conditions we could have hoped against (wind against current). The first few days had much of the crew horizontal and green. ...

Imagine you are sitting down, enjoying dinner. It’s Taco Tuesday® (but on Thursday, because you have no sense of time). Suddenly the salsa jar becomes a projectile, it jumps straight up, then banks hard to the left and hurls itself at you, missing by inches. The jar (which you forgot to put the lid on between scoops) explodes, covering your last clean shirt in a delicious yet inevitably perishable blaze. You sigh. ...

It is time to bid farewell to the star filled night sky, to the meteor showers, to the dolphins that scared the crap out of me on night watch. I am just settling in to my last chocolate watch (the salty watch is 8-12, 3-6 is for chocolate); in a few hours the sun will come up and we will line up for the first of several channels that will bring us to our new home. ...

We just sailed from Yelapa, which must be blogged with photos, to Bahia Chamela, about 90 miles south. Ninety miles requires an overnight passage for us, which it turns out, we all love. The winds and seas in Mexico have made for very easy and comfortable sailing (and unfortunately a bit of motoring when the winds die completely). We left our anchorage at noon so that our arrival would be during daylight. The boat was ship shape, the heads cleaned, the floors swept, every last thing put away, and even fresh baked bread before we left. Maybe passage making is so wonderful for me because all the chores are done first! In a day and night at sea it seems like we have so much time! Piles of books get brought up to the cockpit for reading. Clip boards and colored pencils come out and Ruby draws for hours. Olive takes apart her toys and builds new ones. Pirates have battles, the toys come alive, Ruby dresses in homemade costumes made of playsilks and scraps of rope—“Silk is the perfect material for a hot day,” Ruby exclaims. Cookies are baked and devoured. Popcorn is always eaten. Naps sometimes happen. We attempt to fish (we’re terrible at it). We whale watch! The days are peaceful. ...

Standing here, at the refrigerator/nav station/electronics table, and reflecting on our first overnight passage, what strikes me most was how noisy it was. Not up top (in the cockpit) but down below. We started the day with a strong WNW breeze which soon turned into 15-20 knts of NW. This was perfect for our southbound passage and if it had not been for that square swell, we would have been in total heaven. As it was the boat handled admirably and we sailed most of the late afternoon and evening on just the genoa. By 1 am the wind had completely died and we had to turn on the engine. ...