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Journal to Jamaica Day 2

A journalized account of our non-stop sail through the Windward Passage from Long Island, Bahamas to Port Antonio, Jamaica.

DAY TWO:

PRE A.M. (2:00 A.M.)

Ren and I just switched watches.  After a four hour fit of no sleep I am sitting in the cockpit with Oreo under a waxing full moon, completely exhausted but resigned to my watch.  We passed the “night necklace” we wear while on water like the baton in a relay race.  Dangling from the necklace is a whistle and a strobe…just in case.  However, we mitigate the risk of falling overboard at night by staying in the cockpit at all times.  Never leaning over the lifelines, not even to urinate.  If one of us must go forward, escaping the safety of the cockpit, they must first wake the other person and wear a harness.  The harnesses are made of strips of purple webbing that wrap around both legs and arms, joining up in the middle with a clip that attaches to the jack lines.  The jack lines run the entire length of the boat and are only on deck when we are traveling.  Ren made the harnesses for us before we left.  This precaution may sound like overkill to the sailor already well seasoned by salt but losing each other…well…that would be devastating to say the least and this kind of accident is mostly preventable. 

I just sat back down from tweaking the sails.  Ren’s approach to keeping watch includes constant vigilance to the sails’ shape, our direction and speed.  He is always trying to bring the boat back to a homeostatic condition, pulling in one sheet, relaxing another in his constant attempts to gain speed and efficiency.  It is this commitment to Nila Girl and our ETA that makes Ren a great captain.  Personally I find the tweaking tiresome.  I prefer to view my watch schedule as four hour appointments with myself where I can read, write, type up this blog entry, or spend time with Oreo.  Tweaking sails is a minor inconvenience to the true purpose of watch keeping.  My myriad of activities must also be interrupted-every fifteen to twenty minutes-by a visual sweep of the horizon and radar if we are using it.  So far, no boats on this particular watch.  I could really get some serious things done around here if it wasn’t for all the sailing. 

Oreo is faring well but like me, takes a day or two to get adjusted to the new sleep, or rather, non-sleep patterns.  It has been almost twenty-four hours now since we have parted Salt Pond and he still refuses to pee.  His bladder will give in, it always does, maybe even sometime later today.  Let’s hope he’s not lying in his bed when it decides to throw in the towel.

A.M.

We are all sitting in the cockpit watching the sunrising overhead.  I have always preferred the sunrise to a sunset.  The sunrise, if awake before dawn, is a welcomed friend, come to bring promise of a beautiful and full day ahead, unlike the sunset who is always trying to turn the lights out.  Also, I gain a sense of accomplishment from watching the sunrise.  Any schmuck can catch the sunset but it takes another level of commitment to be up for the sunrise.  This morning, the pressure is off, literally off Oreo’s bladder as he had decided to urinate, finally.  We just did the math and we made about one hundred and two miles from yesterday AM through the night.  We are averaging over five knots, we are making great time.

All three of us are tired this morning.  We will spend the day partly lethargic, sleep tonight when its is our turn and then we will be in the groove tomorrow.  We will feel better rested and in turn healthier by then.  I have failed to mention that I have a set of workouts to be completed every day while traveling.  We made a lot of progress reaching depth at Dean’s Blue Hole.  Diving almost every day I was able to become more and more comfortable with the world record dive I will be attempting…soon.  Since we will not be able to dive for the next few days because we are sailing, I have a daily exercise schedule.  Yesterday included two stretching sessions and a series of eight breatholds called a “breathold table”.  The table was successfully completed and the stretching was great.  Today, two stretching sessions and an arm workout, yum.

MIDDAY

The morning, in one word, sweaty.  Ren caught another dolphin, a bit smaller than yesterday’s, but just as beautiful.  I made tuna salad with the remaining tuna, which turned out excellent (mayonnaise free for all of you training athletes out there) so we kept the dolphin, as previously planned.  Ren fought the fish up to the bow and back down the starboard side of the boat passing the rod around numerous obstacles, shrouds, sails, the stern railing.  Each time he passed the rod around something from one hand to the next, he also had to be careful not to drop the rod or let the dolphin rip it from his hands.  Fishing off of a sailboat is a real challenge.  No fighting chairs, harnesses, or wide open sterns to secure fish from.  Just a bunch of rolling from side to side and nowhere to stand.  After finishing his lengthy dance around the boat Ren pulled the yellow and green fish out of the water and stabbed a knife into his brain, killing him and alleviating the suffering.  He finished pulling the fish all the way into the cockpit, our living quarters, blood everywhere.  We promptly laid a black rag over the dolphin’s eyes to reduce the chances that he would freak out and thrash about if he decided to come back to life.  We watched in amazement as the fish turned colors from green and yellow to stark white and a brilliantly bright light blue color.  His light blue dorsal fin was tipped in black like it had been dipped in ink.  I am not sure if there is an evolutionary advantage to the color change but the radiance of the spectacle is unparalleled  Although, the rapid color adaption of the octopus is a close second only trumped by the vibrant colors of the mahi.

We are now less than forty miles from Inagua where we will be making a turn to the West to head through the Windward Passage and deeper into the Caribbean.  I will not conceal the fact that thoughts of pirates flooded my sleep deprived brain last night.  My only distraction from the thought of six men with semi-automatic weapons ripping our boat apart only to find what we already told then we had, nothing, was the inspired cadence of Mark Twain.     

P.M.     

The wind has picked up and I have the first shift 9:00pm to 1:00am.  Before the shift starts we decide to watch just one episode of our TV series du jour, Pushing Daisies.  Ren and Oreo cuddle up in a corner of the cockpit and I arrange the computer and external speakers so that we can both see and hear the show.  I stay in the cabin while Ren stays in the cockpit to keep a watchful eye on passing ships.  The show if full of really interesting cinematography.  The colors are vivid and the plot and characters almost fantasy-like.  It is an entertaining show.

Watching such a benign program with my little family helps to dry the tears a bit.  They have  been pouring out in fifteen minute bursts at unpredictable times.  There must be something hormonal going on with me because, although we are leaving comfortable territory for the unknown, I still have Ren and Oreo with me.  We are still living a dream.  I predict a combination of emotions, both controllable and incontrollable are at fault here.  Brewing a pot of emotional instability just for me.  Ren is very patient with me right now.  He understands that there is nothing he can do to fix the problem.  His patience is not beyond asking me once, “You still like me don’t you?”  It will pass in another day, whatever it is.  In the meantime, “I want my Mommy!”

After the show I settle in for my watch and am interrupted within the hour by Ren who cannot sleep.  Nothing surprising there, it’s hard to sleep here right now.  He takes the first watch from me and I sleep for one hour and toss for another two.  It is comforting for Ren to take the wheel.  When he is on watch I am exempt from making decisions which is great.  When he take the wheel I can lie down confident that everything will be fine.  The rough seas are going to leave me exhausted.

 

Journal to Jamaica Day 4

A journalized account of our non-stop sail through the Windward Passage from Long Island, Bahamas to Port Antonio, Jamaica.

DAY FOUR:

A.M.

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Port Antonio, Jamaica. This port would come to be one of our favorites due to the afternoon showers and fresh food right around the corner.

There was a nice surprise waiting for me this morning at shift switch, and no, it was not a severed head.  We were scheduled to do three hour shifts.  Mine ran from 9:00pm to 12:00am then on again at 3:00am to 6:00am.  Ren woke me for my 3:00 shift at almost 6:00!  This means we were further along when I woke up than expected, a welcomed surprise indeed.  The sun is rising right now which is huge for the mental component of the sail.  Waking up tired at 3:00am is a lot different than waking up to a rising sun at 6:00am.  What this really means is that I got to sleep through the night, for the most part.  I am not sure if I ever entered the deep sleep phase of the sleep cycle but I definitely dreamt for the first time since being on this passage.  I think this is the first time I have had time to dream.  To really stretch my sleep legs.

My Mom and I were walking through a dusty little town.  The place had an Eleutherian feel.  This vision must have been the product of the time we Ren and I just spent in the Bahamas, no doubt.  Actually the town looked exactly like the part of Georgetown, Exuma you have to walk to get to the community trash receptacle.  I only walked there once.  Funny how even the most insignificant details imprint themselves into your subconscious.  Eager to be considered important, worth recalling at a later date.  Imagine all the information that must be stored in our brains if only we could recall the stored bits of data on demand.  Wow!  I’m blowing my own mind here, and I digress.

Mom and I were walking through this town during a small festival.  We were trying to get a handle on the local flavor.  We wore big smiles and talked to everyone.  We attempted conversation but were readily rebuffed by the locals.  Their noses turning up at the site of us, or maybe at the sound of our voices.  We walked into a big ping government building to get a drink of water.  A tall white woman with bright red hair, green eyes and a green sequined evening gown hung up a sign advertising her newly missing dog.  The big grin on her face did not match the anxiety she should have been feeling over her lost companion.  Her smug smile in sharp contrast to the sympathy she tried to elicit.  Dream sequence ended.  Suggestions?

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Kids playing soccer on a beach during our entry to Jamaica.

Oreo greeted me with a lot of tail wagging and rolling over on my feet this morning.  Amazing how such a small mammal who contributes nothing to conversation or the necessities of the household can make you feel so loved.  It is kind of like the alcoholic brother you have living on your couch.  You can be damned if he is going to send a few bucks your way to help with rent.  He is not going to get up early and whip up some breakfast for you before you’re off to work.  But the guy is funny and you love him because he is your brother.  Anyway, Oreo greeted me happily and I responded happily especially when I learned that we only had sixty eight miles to go.  As of right now we have fifty eight nautical miles left and are averaging almost six knots.  It looks like the end is in sight.  As a matter of fact, I think last night was my last night shift.  We should be in Jamaica in about 11.6 hours, roughly 6:00pm, and this is a conservative estimate based on only five knots average.  I cannot believe we have managed to shrink a six day passage down to four.  Where there is a will, there is a way.

MIDDAY   

Another hot, hot, day, another nap (two hours), and another dream this afternoon.  I will spare you the details of this dream but let’s just say this, we were traveling the world by horseback.  A white horse with a blue trimmed saddle.  I woke up mad at Ren for having gotten two tattoos without even mentioning it to me first.  The worse of the two being a hug snake covering half of his back.  In real life neither of us have tattoos.  In real life, as in my dream, a huge expensive surprise tattoo will not be a cause for celebration.

I awoke to only thirty two miles to go.  This should put us in Port Antonio at dusk or just after dark.  Jamaica does not acknowledge daylight savings time so we are gaining an hour of travel time.  Imagine that, they do not amend Time to fit demanding work schedules.  Sounds like a bunch of backwards people huh?  I bet they say, “hello” when they mean “goodbye” and I bet they walk on their hands too.  We shall see. 

Ren is fishing again, hunting mahi.  He has been having a great time as we have been traveling the perfect trolling speed.  This is the hottest part of the day.  Usually we try to sit as still as we can and read, fish a bit, write something, anything non-physical.  Any workouts or chores to be done must wait until at least 3:00.  At this time, not only is the heat starting to subside a bit, but our stomachs are perfectly settled from lunch too so we get pretty productive.  No worrisome digestion getting in our way.  Training for this record has made me intensely aware of the digestive process.  It takes thoughtful schedule management to make sure breakfast has had time to digest before the dive.  If the digestive schedule is considered, the dive is much more comfortable and a lot easier as the body is not wasting valuable energy on a process it could have taken care of earlier.  This principal works for anyone, not just freedivers.  Avoid midmorning indigestion or unpredictable evacuations by eating on time and slowing down.  Do not eat on the way to work, eat well before you get there.  Chew your food, a talent inspired by our friend Lance on EZ.  I’m still working on this one.  The body already knows what to do, learn to use your body properly and will not leave you feeling used.

P.M.

This place is lush and green…and mountainous!  We cannot wait to explore Jamaica and take lots of pictures.  More to follow…

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Journel to Jamaica Day 1

DAY ONE:

A.M.

I woke up to the gentle rub of a familiar and rough hand on my back.

“Come on Ash, time to get out of here,” as Ren tried to coax me out of bed.  I whined, and whined and whined, until he had to ask me again.  Not so gently the second time around.  We stayed up too late last night saying goodbye to Jeanette and Brian from Puff.  It’s likely the last time we’ll see them for a few years, unless I get sponsorship to go to the Vertical Blue competition in Long Island this coming November.  Hint, hint.  5:30am was not in my useable vocabulary this morning.  The only thing that was may have been, “this sucks.”  However, when it’s time to go, it’s time to go.  No amount of bitching on my end was going to change the fact that we have ten days to get from Long Island to Jamaica in the forecasted light winds.  Ren thinks it will take at least six days to cover the four hundred mile distance, again, the winds are forecasted as light.

I ripped the covers off of myself and stomped around with a sour frown on my face.  It was dramatic, especially considering I had to make my point in the confined space of our cabin.  All the while Ren is humming and dancing about.  He is more of a morning person than I am.  It’s a quality I love about him.  He bounces out of bed and spreads his contagious good cheer song and dance by little song and dance.  I immediately felt bad for making a tough situation worse with my crappy attitude.  We worked together to haul the dinghy onto the bow of Nila Girl.  By carrying the dinghy on Nila Girl instead of towing her behind us we will gain up to one knot of speed.  We only tow her on shorter, one-day excursions.  Ren, engine already warmed, pulled Nila Girl up to the government dock in Salt Pond where we have been beating around for the last month.  Oreo was awarded one last land pee and I threw away one last bag of trash.  Reluctantly, Oreo and I, answering Ren’s whistle, walked back over to Nila Girl after out ten minute land break.  Ten lousy minutes to last us six days on the boat.  I was looking on the voyage with trepidation.  We neglected to say our goodbyes to Mike and Jackie at Long Island Breeze.  We did not say goodbye to the donkey, Grey Boy, who we made friends with, visiting him nearly every day.  We taught him how to play tug of war with a piece of rope in lieu of nipping at people for affection.  I suppose that’s the nature of the sailing life.  Unparalleled experiences, new friends, landscapes but leaving a wake of farewells behind you.  You are always saying goodbye.  As the captain pulled us away from the dock I said my silent goodbye, shed a tear, straightened the cockpit for travel and went back to bed.

MIDDAY 

We ate leftover lobster and garlicky rice from the previous night’s “goodbye supper” for breakfast.  On the side, some of the homemade blueberry jelly my Grandma canned.  The rice was made garlicky by adding a pickled mixture of whole garlic cloves and gardenier mix Ren’s Mom helped us can.  The mix is perfect to add a punch of flavor to anything or to eat straight, as an appetizer.  The day is hot, sunny and the water a deep purple.  I cried once at the thought of leaving a month’s worth of routine and new friends behind.  Not to mention, the most perfect freedive training alongside world record holder, William Trubridge.  We dove every single day almost, great preparation for the feat ahead.  I always cry when it’s time to move on but the tears dried as Ren reminded me that we are on our way to Jamaica.  The anticipation of the new adventure creeps into all the empty spaces in my heart leaving Long Island has left.  I am ok again.  Oreo is hot this afternoon and may get a haircut tomorrow.  It is particularly hard to keep him comfortable during a passage but it is hard on all of us.  Now back to “The Autobiography of Mark Twain.”  Thanks Mom and Dad…and Corey for bringing it over for me!

P.M.

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Oreo waiting patiently for his supper, which was rarely just dog food.

We caught a skipjack tuna about midday.  Oreo had a supper of tuna, including the roe while we had lightly seared, but slightly overcooked tuna steaks on a bed of pasta.  We also caught a dolphin but readily released her since we had meat already.  The tuna is going fast so we will keep the next mahi we catch.  The sunset was brilliant but foreboding.  Anxiety was starting to creep in as the sun hung lower and lower in the sky.  I always dread the first couple of nights watch.  Everything is intensified at night when veiled in a cloak of darkness.  The wind blows  harder, every bump against the hull is deafening as I imagine the boat twisting in half and breaking apart between waves.  All of this teamed with a little sleep deprivation should be a torture technique.  Tonight could be a long night punctuated with tears as I tend to get homesick while at sea.  No distractions, just your thoughts and a lot of time.

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Journal to Jamaica Day 3

A journalized account of our non-stop sail through the Windward Passage from Long Island, Bahamas to Port Antonio, Jamaica.

DAY THREE:

A.M.

My A.M. shift ends at 7:00.  I have been at the wheel since around 2:30am and have done my fair share of hand steering.  Usually we just set Duane the Wind Vane and he steers for us.  This frees up our bodies and minds.  Having to hand steer takes a lot of mental fortitude.  Looking ahead a the deep blue nothing, staying on course, occasionally fighting oncoming waves, staying awake…for hours. 

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A cockpit shave job. Only the best for Ren!

Ren took over at 7:00am and I went straight back to bed.  Before my morning nap I had slept one hour the previous night.  My nap tacked on almost four additional hours of sleep.  Usually we get eight to ten hours of sleep per night, uninterrupted.  Change this healthy pattern to maybe five hours per twenty four hour period, not a consecutive five either.  Five hours taken in one to two hour increments, not healthy.  We are both extremely tired.  The lethargy can be blamed partially on the oppressive sun.

I woke from my nap sweating.  The waves have turned into a lake and the wind is non-existent.  Not even a breath of it to dry my sweaty body.  We have resigned ourselves to firing up the ol’ “Iron Jib.”  We hate to do this because running the engine both wastes fuel and costs money.  However, we cannot spend the day going nowhere either.  I have a flight to catch from Montego Bay to Fort Lauderdale in a couple of days to try to hustle us some money teaching freediving.  Also, let’s look at the numbers.  Since we have left North Carolina we have only had to purchase fifty nine gallons of diesel.  Fifty nine gallons and we run the engine whenever we need to.  This means, we have not been exceptionally frugal with our fuel.  Back home, Ren’s F-250 Ford diesel pickup held thirty eight gallons of fuel.  He would burn a whole tank of fuel per week on average, running around town.  This does not account for out of town trips, the diesel for his tractor, or the diesel for my car.  Our little Perkins is nice and efficient.  Today she will run to keep us on track.  She is currently running 6.3 knots with some help from the mainsail and spinnaker with only one hundred and forty four nautical miles to go to get to Port Antonio.

MIDDAY

The wind is so calm that we had to take down the spinnaker to keep it from flapping around.  The engine is making sure that we maintain a respectable speed.  Today is really going to affect our overall trip average which stinks because we made such great time the first couple of days.  Besides the breathold tables and arm workout I will do later, when it is cooler, my goal is to dry out a bunch of my cold weather gear that got soaked during the more turbulent weather of the last couple of days.  Nila Girl still has some leaks, a problem I am hoping we can completely eradicate this summer.  When water leaks into the boat usually when we are heeled over pretty far or taking waves over the bow, it leaks mostly in the v-berth area.  This means that our freshly laundered sheets and some of our clothes have become tainted with sea water.  The tainted items will never dry.  The salt in the sea water hold water in, keeping things feeling damp.  I can hang the affected items out and get them crispy in the sun but there are still two problems:

1. Salty, crispy clothes itch.

2.When the items contact moisture again, even just the humidity, they feel as wet as when you first found them doused in saltwater.   

We will have to rewash everything when we get to Jamaica.

P.M.

A beautiful end to a beautifully calm day.  We just ate supper in the cockpit under the nearly full moon.  I seared up a piece of mahi for Ren and made a cold pasta and pea dish.  My belly was craving something without a lot of seasoning and I wasn’t in the mood for any meat tonight.  Oreo had fish and cheese. 

Speaking of Oreo, his spirits were exceptionally high today, as were mine and Ren’s.  Since the seas was so calm and the winds were down we had to run the engine through the entire day (it is actually still running now).  This means that we had a calm day on the ocean.  The kind of day where we were afforded the opportunity to accomplish some goals.  I dried out all of the salt tainted clothes and bedding described before.  Ren re-glued pieces of our dinghy that were causing air to leak.  I made Banff Brownies, a recipe passed on to us from Banff on Pavana (see earlier blog entries for Banff description).  The brownies are sugar free, for all of you athletes in training out there.  Oreo walked all over the boat, going out on the gunnels anytime he wanted.  We relaxed and enjoyed the calm.  I was able to do another breathold table and stretching session today.  My arms are really sore from the workout yesterday,  I love the feeling of soreness earned through physical exertion.  It is good for the mind to push the body to hurt.

We still have not seen anything notable in the water.  No turtles, dolphins or anything, except the beautiful fish we caught.  We are now only ninety eight miles from Jamaica.  I am looking forward to exploring a strange new world.  I am also looking forward to the trip back to Fort Lauderdale.  It will be sobering to see some old friends again.  I also look forward to the prospect of making a bit of money.  It feels good to line the pockets with a bit of cash.    

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