1984 (2) – Gale At Sea

Ocean Wave.  Digital Art.

To go to the beginning of this book, Tropic Moon: Memories, click HERE.

Draw a direct line on a map of the Atlantic Ocean, from Bermuda to the Azores, and it measures a bit over 1800 miles.  That distance would be the minimum length of our passage to Horta.  As it turned out, what with meandering around when pushed off course by headwinds, we actually covered 1925 miles.  I was really optimistic before we left Bermuda for the Azores.  The trip to Bermuda had, quite literally, been a piece of cake.  The next leg would take at least 2-1/2 weeks.  I anticipated the opportunity to really experience whatever it was that some sailors love about the sea - and which had thus far eluded me.

Things started off well enough, from my point of view, as there was little wind and we motored for two days.  When the winds returned, they were fairly strong, and practically on the nose, when they should have been "prevailing westerlies."  The headwinds came with rough, unsettled seas.  Though I was using my seasickness skin patches, I was very uncomfortable.  After a few days, I realized I had a rock-like lump of tension in the pit of my stomach.

We had left Bermuda on July 1^st.  On Friday, the 13^th, we were hit with our first gale at sea.  The radio reported 45 mph winds, and the seas got up to about 15 feet.  Before nightfall, we were sailing with our smallest jib (its first use since we owned Tropic Moon), and the mizzen sail.  The mainsail had been down all day.  Ed decided to take a reef in the mizzen to shorten sail.  We were both in foul weather gear and safety harnesses, and I was at the wheel waiting for Ed.  I turned around to look at the seas that were building behind us, and found myself looking straight up at the top of a towering wave.  While I watched, the wave broke on the crest.  I was looking up through the curling wave - and then it crashed down behind the boat.  I think I turned forward with glazed eyes, because Ed commented, "The helmsman isn't supposed to look behind him."  When the next wave broke, it fell on our stern and slapped me on the back.  I didn't turn around, but kept an eye on the wheel, and on Ed while he was working on the mizzen sail.

We didn’t try to sail during the gale, but were "hove to" instead.  We had left up a minimum of sail, just enough to balance the boat.  Tropic Moon tried to head up, as much into the wind as possible, which slowed down the speed and motion of the boat, and took some of the pressure off the sails.  While under good conditions - decent winds and a full suit of sails - we averaged five knots, hove to, with a reefed mizzen and small storm sail, we were surprised to find we were still making an average of two knots.  With our minimum of sail up, and the wheel lashed in place with ropes, neither of us had to be out on deck.  The person on watch kept an eye on things from below.  Tropic Moon proved, through twelve hours of bad weather and rough seas, to be a marvelously good sailor, and to take everything in her stride.