December 2017

Our first rally, the four month Suzie Too Rally from Curacao to Belize in 2016, was such a great experience, so we decided to join another one called the Salty Dawg Rally. Suzanne Chappell organized the first rally on her own and she learned as she went. It was fun to be a part of this learning. She will repeat this rally, starting this November, and hopefully relax with the knowledge that she’s “done it all before”. However, we sailors know that no passage ever repeats itself. This was certainly the case this year with the seventh annual Salty Dawg Rally. While each year there are weather, boat, crew, and destination challenges, this year, new weather events created major modifications.

First, the destination had to be changed. Virgin Gorda was no longer an option; they were not quite ready for seventy boats to show up in their harbor after hurricanes Irma and Maria had so cruelly struck them. Antiqua became the new destination, as they were spared with Irma passing 30 miles to their north and Maria passing 40 miles to their south.

Second, many new ports were added to the trip as boats floundered about in uncooperative winds. The rally is designed to be a one shot passage from Norfolk Virginia to the destination, with plenty of preparation assistance beforehand and celebrations afterwards. However, we all found ourselves in conditions that varied from the normal “head east till the butter melts, then head south”. The steady tradewinds never really materialized, causing half the boats to end up in Bermuda, Florida, Bahamas, and various British and US Virgin islands. Most boats eventually made it to Antigua after brief stops in unplanned locations.

Alembic was part of the wandering set. First, we stopped in Bermuda to refuel, as our passage across the Gulf Stream had such light winds, except for the squalls that kept us focused. We used most of our 100 gallons of diesel to assist the sails during the calm winds. From Bermuda, we chose to pass Antigua and head directly to Guadeloupe in order to obtain our qualifying passage for the OCC. Finally, we sailed north again, arriving in Antigua, 16 days after leaving Norfolk. If you count only the sailing (and motoring) hours from Norfolk to Antigua (when we passed it on route to Guadeloupe) you get 11.5 days, not bad for a Whitby 42! We were one of the smallest boats in the fleet. Most were either longer, catamaran, or light racing boats. Full keel, heavy displacement, ketch rigged Whitbys are regarded for their safety and comfort at sea, not their speed. I must say that our stops added delightful additions to our trip, so we are certainly not complaining about any of our decisions to modify the original passage route.

While planning and completing passages are not new to Bill and I, having crew is! We thought we would “try out” this idea, having help aboard to take some night watches, to see if we would like to do this when we plan longer trips. Well, Sara Williams sure set the bar high! She had no previous offshore experience, and had only sailed on Alembic twice: an afternoon in Rockland, Maine and an overnight from Rockland to Onset, Massachusetts. Our conclusion is that Sara is welcome on any trip with Alembic! She eagerly jumped into every activity, asking important questions, and remembering each step. From day one, she stood equal watches, controlled and reefed sails, cooked excellent meals, went up the mast, and caught and cleaned fish (even I don’t do that!!) Additionally, Sara was a wealth of knowledge for all things bird, as she is a Wildlife Biologist. And her artistic skills kept us wowed and laughing.

Arriving in Antigua was exciting. Rally organizers did a great job setting up a schedule of fun events ashore where we gathered and swapped sea stories. A boom broke, a steering system failed, an engine died, many filters clogged, sails tore, an underwater escape hatch on a catamaran showed signs of failure, and a prop got fouled by fishing gear three times! We didn’t have much to contribute to these dramatic reports. Our stories were only of how we laughed, slept, caught fish, lazed around, and adjusted sails for short lived squalls or dying wind.

I love traveling on Alembic, and am so grateful for having had the opportunity this trip to share this life with another nature lover and adventure seeker, Sara.

Bill and I couldn’t be more proud of our daughter, Erica, for all of her choices and efforts in becoming the women she is today. Graduating in only three years, at age 20, is only a tiny sliver of her accomplishments. Yes, we were apprehensive when she decided to attend CSU, so far from Maine. Kenny and Lindsay had chosen schools 40 minutes and two hours away, and that suited us. How would we communicate? Visit? Take care of her if she became sick (both Kenny and Lindsay had events where we rushed to them)?

In Erica fashion, all of our worries were unsubstantiated. She managed communicating, traveling, sickness, and all other challenges with calm intelligence. Thankfully, she called us whenever she had scary or wonderful news to report, and processed many decisions over the phone. Rarely did Bill or I have a solution that she hadn’t already formed. We were simply her sounding board for well organized thoughts.

 

New support networks were formed on day one. One long-lasting network has been Wes and his entire family. On the first day of class, Erica approached him and asked if she could sit beside him. (She told me that he was the cutest boy in the room!) Coffee after class that day must have been a magical elixir, because they are still together! A musically talented, outdoor-loving family with three boys and no girls, they welcomed her with open arms, treating her as a well loved sister and daughter. For this, I will be unconditionally grateful.

Our visit to CSU for the graduation was a blast, in addition to all of the pride bursting within us.

Kenny and Jenna flew out for the week and James had just moved into his first home, not far away. Unfortunately, medical school had a grip on Lindsay, with many tests during this week, so she couldn’t attend in person.

She certainly was a huge presence this day in Erica’s heart, as she always has been. They have the ultimate sister relationship that distance cannot diminish. Luckily, Lindsay’s dear friend, Kayla, was there to step in as Big Sister.

Although Colorado is a long way from Maine, and any place Alembic may be, it is always worth the trip. The hikes are spectacular and the weather is second to none. Erica proved to be an excellent tour guide and wasted no time in scheduling a full agenda for us.

Three Cheers to you, Dear Erica! Keep your eyes and heart on your dreams! We Love You!

Our failed attempt to reach the east coast of Florida, or even the Dry Tortugas, turned out to be a welcomed adventure. Last year, we rode a front from Belize to the Dry Tortugas, which was a rough trip, so we chose this year to take the settled tradewinds when we left Isla Mujeres. Basically, this means that we had good winds, maybe a bit too strong last year, with threats of squalls and lightning, while this year the steady southeast wind would provide a gentler trip. But the wind was just too much on the nose, almost directly from the east, and we kept turning more north, instead of northeast, to sail faster. At one point, we said “maybe we will land in Texas!”

After three and a half days of sailing, we arrived in Fort Myers before dawn. It was weird to be back in the US, with all of the amenities and sounds and people. We had one task to focus on, and this was to repair the crack in a casting for the hydrovane we had purchased in Belize and planned to mount this week. A gentleman was able to make this repair quickly and cheaply in his tiny shop while sharing his memories of growing up in Nicaragua. Not ready for the full US immersion, we headed north to quieter anchorages for two days.

Refreshed, setting off at night, we had a lovely sail south to Shark River, the northern boundary of the Everglades. Here we anchored Alembic and explored by dinghy. The wildlife was spectacular. Birds, raccoons, snakes, turtles, and mangroves created a paradise. Mosquitos keep this area from being overridden by tourists.

Our sail south then around the corner of Cape Sable to Marathon was simple, and we gratefully accepted the invitation to tie up to the dock at Lynne and Russell’s home. What a spectacular spot! Their creativity with architecture, furnishings, gardening, and open air space filled their property with artistic and playful themes. We thoroughly enjoyed their company and the quiet dock for installing our new-to-us hydrovane.

Motivated to get to Maine, we headed north with brief stops in Miami and Ft Lauderdale. We headed out to sea with a floatilla of boats viewing the spectacular air show. We did not linger, however, as Alembic was pulling on her sails and bringing us home.

Leaving Belize, like finishing a good book, left us with a grateful heart and eager to become engrossed in new stories. Mexico would be that next adventure. And a bird would guide us there. Our Mexican travels aboard Alembic would be full of birds.

The first was a sweet black bird, who came aboard in the evening, and flew about the cabin for a while, trying out perches on our overhead handrails, barometer, swinging lantern, fruit basket, and hat pile. While I sat in the companionway, journaling, and making course adjustments on the plotter, Bill announced from below that the bird had left the cabin. I was certain it had not, as I would have noticed a bird flying by my face. Evening became night, and we stood our watches in the cockpit while the other slept below on the port berth. Soundlessly, as the sun rose, our feathered friend scrambled out of the bookcase, right beside Bill’s snoring face, and flew out the companionway. He’d been in that cubby for eleven hours! And my favorite cookbook, The Boat Galley, had the pile of ick on the top edge to prove it. How ironic: my favorite food prep was now covered in bird poop.

Having been escorted safely to Mexico by our guide bird, we docked at El Cid in Puerto Morelos, Mexico. After a 42 hour sail and thirty hour check in process, we were finally free to walk about town. Artists abound here, making tippy lighthouses, spectacular sand art, and delicious pastries. After three days, half of which we were confined to the marina for check in, we departed for Isla Mujeres, only a 5 hour sail away.

Arriving just before Easter, we were privileged to observe the magnificent celebrations. First there was the dramatic parade, culminating at a spectacular ancient cathedral. Then the service we attended, struggling to understand the Spanish prayers and hymns. And finally the many churches we saw throughout the island which decorated their sacred spaces with simple, yet beautiful messages of their risen savior.

Monday, the day after Easter, we raised our anchor and began our three and a half day journey for Florida, in the company of Passion Rebelle. Our second guide bird took his last trip when he boarded Alembic as he migrated north. He was so friendly, even letting Bill and I carry him around. The wind was howling, but I didn’t want anymore disgusting presents below, so we carried this little guy to the protected hatch beneath the dodger. Here we gave him a cracker and a bottlecap full of water, neither of which he touched. All night, he entertained us with sweet little chirps and what looked like hopscotch around the screen beneath the open hatch. Finally, he went to sleep while standing up. In this standing position he remained for many hours. Curious why he wasn’t waking up, I nudged him. He tipped over; dead. I suppose he couldn’t keep up with is flock, and resting on Alembic gave him his final nap.

Next, another single bird came aboard who was more shy than the first two. Again, we tried to help this little guy find shelter for the night. He chose to crawl into a cockpit cubby, stay the night, and depart at dawn. Then our bird drama ramped up.

A crowd of at least twenty five flew noisily on and off Alembic as the sun set on our second day out. They clung to the dodger, the binnacle, the ropes all over the cockpit, and at least seven at a time clung to the wheel. The autopilot caused the wheel to swing back and forth as it kept us on our course, threatening to toss the birds off. But they hung on. For hours. For the whole night! These birds were hilarious, squawking at each other, jumping on each other (having sex??) and finally settling down for snoozing. Adjusting sails had the added task of first removing the sleeping birds, and being careful to not drop ropes on the others. By dawn, all but one had flown off. One clung to a rope until 7am, 8am…When I reached over to him to encourage him to join his flock, he tipped over, another death.

Nearing Florida, we had our final bird event. A very noisy chirping bird landed on our flaked mizzen sail and settled there for a nap. Soon after, a large bird circled our boat, signaling that we were approaching land. An hour later, we realized that that bully had quietly landed on our mizzen boom without our noticing and created a murder scene! Blood and feathers everywhere! These Mexican travels were full of birds. Birds travel, live, rest, feast, and die. It’s all part of their plan.

As a final nature scene, we were treated to a pod of dolphins, frolicking and leaping about as if to say “You’re Home!” as we entered the waters off Fort Meyers Florida.