Mermaid. An art quilt. 20" x 16" Detail |
To go to the beginning of this book, Tropic Moon: Memories, click HERE.
In
mid-May we did an overnight passage from Almeria, on the Costa del Sol, to the
beautiful Spanish islands of the Balearics: Majorca, Menorca, Ibiza, and
Formentera. When we left Almerimar, we had a 250-mile sail to Ibiza,
which took us fifty hours. During that trip we were able to sail about
one-third of the time, motor about a third, and motor sail, when the wind
wasn't quite strong enough to do the trick, for the remaining third. As
the wind came and went, the sails went up and down quite a few times. We
left the steering to the autopilot. We
were free to watch or sleep or read as we pleased, with one of us keeping an
eye out for other shipping.
Ed and
I kept our regular watches. One of
mine was from midnight to 4:00 a.m. On the second night of the trip, I
was nearing the end of my night watch.
The wind was gradually dying yet again. Only the jib sail was
still up, but I hesitated going forward on the rolling foredeck to take it down
by myself, preferring to wait for Ed's assistance. I called him fifteen
minutes early. He came on deck, took
down the sail, and we started the engine. While up forward, Ed noticed
several dolphins playing around the bow.
Though
it was quite dark, the dolphins were plainly visible. Their movements through the water generated phosphorescence,
giving them the appearance of silver torpedoes streaking through the sea.
Starting the engine didn't disturb them - they seemed enlivened by Tropic
Moon's movement, porpoising through the water alongside the prow, and diving
back and forth under the boat, through the phosphorescent bow wave generated by
Tropic Moon's passage. Though only a few minutes before I had been on the
verge of falling asleep, I was now fully awake. I watched the beautiful silvered dolphins at play until common
sense finally took me below to my bed.
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