Log Entry - Wednesday, Jan 25, 2006

Sailboat | Crew | Log | Route | Track

A fickle mistress John on deck at night Like a critter caught in the headlights Triple reefed main sail The king of the sky winks goodnight The wind is like a fickle mistress, never satisfied, always demanding more, constantly changing her mind. Sometimes she is happy at 15 knots, other times she rants and screams at 29 knots. To keep her happy, we reduce our sails to three reefs in the main and handkerchief for a jib. We sacrifice speed for comfort and safety. With one crew member on watch, we cannot risk being overpowered with too much sail up. When an angry mistress rages, she is unforgiving. When it is dark on the ocean, it is darker than black. With the jewels of the night pushed from view by angry squalls, we can see nothing ahead. Standing on the cockpit seat and looking forward, we see only the bow rising and falling. Full Circle has become a leviathan frolicking in the night sea; we are its victims, being digested by its stomach. The sight is beautiful, the ride unpleasant. The moon remains hidden until nearly three am. She is marching toward a new moon, showing only a sliver of herself. She is in her modest state. By January 29, she will fully clothed and hidden from view, rising at the same time as the sun. A new moon allows the stars to strut their stuff throughout the night. They don’t have to compete with her light. She will eventually have her way, completely disrobe, fill the night sky with her luminescence, and be full again. She will be the queen of the ball, pushing all but the brightest stars into the shadows. Sirius, the soldiers of Orion, Betelgeuse and Rigel, and other favored members of the court will be allowed to be present, but not with their normal regalness. That is the way of the queen’s court. The temperature tonight is a deceptively warm 78 degrees. It is another one of nature’s tricks. You think it is warm, but after being doused by a cascading wave and buffeted by 25 knot winds, it takes only minutes for hyperthermia to set in. I remember my first overnight passage nine years ago, from Tortola to St. Martin. Being the novice I was, I underestimated the powerful one two punch delivered by wind and water for cooling the body. I was shivering so badly with hyperthermia, I thought I was going into convulsions. As you have seen from earlier photos, not this time, “no way Jose.” When on night watch, I wear pajama bottoms and a long sleeve T-shirt, all covered with a full body, water proof foul weather suit. I top it off with a knit stocking cap. The cap serves two purposes; it keeps my head warm and keeps water out of my hearing aids. Hearing aids and sailboats mix like democrats and republications; they don’t. I have found a stocking cap to be my best defense against water logged ears. It may be warm during the day, but it gives me a certain hip hop panache. When we left Bermuda, we sailed easterly just in case the wind shifted to the south. Our strategy was spot on; but it may not have been enough. As I write, we are at longitude 60 05, directly north of St. Martin. We are going into Simpson Bay on the southwest side of St. Martin. Our plan was to pass St. Martin on east, the windward side, and then sail west to Simpson Bay. With our drift west, we may change that plan and come down the leeward side. Our concern is that we slide too far west have to motor into 25 knot winds. We have approximately 32 hours to go. If we slide west one mile every hour, that would put us 32 miles to the west of St. Martin, not an ideal situation. We are attempting to claw our way east, sailing close hauled. It slows our speed, but hopefully will avoid an unpleasant motor at the end of the journey. We expect to be in St. Martin sometime Thursday night or early Friday morning. Sailors don’t like night landfalls. Previous | Next