Palm Sunday Gathering: Peter, Paul, and Our Lord Jesus Christ

Day 12, as in the twelve disciples, since we dropped Steve off at Marina Pez Vela in Quepos. We are now entering our fourth week sailing the vast Pacific after transiting the Panama Canal.

For the last twelve days it has been just Peter and me aboard, and the ocean is reminding us daily who is in charge. She dictates direction and speed with her winds, waves and current. She has no awareness of the tiny humans riding her unbridled power. Yet she always offers a glimpse of her unmatched beauty, just enough to entice you to keep going one more day. Out here everything becomes day by day. You start with a plan and by 08:00 that plan has been scrapped for an adjustment, a repair or a complete re-do. Peter said it best. We have fine tuned our ability to overcome and adapt to the ever changing seascape.

Hazel is showing signs of attrition and taking a daily beating. Parts of her have been lost to Davy Jones’s locker forever. For anyone who needs a refresher, Davy Jones’s Locker is an old maritime phrase for the bottom of the ocean, the final resting place for sailors and ships lost at sea. It is a long-standing superstition and a reminder of how unforgiving deep water can be.

Our whisker pole snapped clean in two during a sudden squallish wind gust. I woke Peter with a frantic yell and we spent the next several hours sorting out the rat’s nest of lines that tangled when the pole failed. It was stressful and dangerous. Peter was at the helm trying to steady Hazel while I was on the bow freeing sails and lines and trying to prevent further damage. The bow is kept clean so the sails can sweep across it during jibes and tacks. Clean also means almost nothing to hold on to. You will see in the photos what running wing on wing looks like and how the whisker pole made that sail plan possible. Too bad that option is no longer available to Hazel. And yes, it is a five thousand dollar replacement. Ouch. Crystal, I know it is not in the budget.

The whisker pole setup makes Hazel fast and stable. Losing it was disappointing, but the incident could have been far worse. It could have ripped our Genoa and turned a bad situation into a crisis. We were grateful for the outcome and for the timing. It could have happened at night or in a storm or with complete head sail destruction. The things we give thanks for have a new bar out here.

Saying goodbye to our whisker pole:

Our asymmetrical spinnaker paid a price too. It wrapped itself tightly around the standing rigging and turned into a frustrating mess that took hours to untangle. We are learning the hard way how quickly things can go from calm to chaotic. There are so many ocean driven variables that can make a complicated sail plan fail, and fail epically. We could write an entire mirrored blog of nothing but our trials, tribulations and spectacular fails. After sunset tonight we will repair the asymmetrical sail by sewing, repacking and possibly upgrading a line.

The crew is not faring much better. I managed to earn a second degree sunburn that makes every movement a reminder to respect the sun. We have started water rationing. Nothing dramatic, but we are watching every drop. The fresh food situation has turned grim. We had to toss a lot of what was perfectly good only days ago. Heat, humidity and constant motion are winning that battle. Now we are eating whatever has not rotted and making the most of every meal. This means Pete has been reduced to three meals a day. Have I mentioned he is a bottomless pit when it comes to food.

Ouch!!!

Even so, the ocean still finds ways to stop us in our tracks. The water has shifted into a magnificent deep blue that seems to glow from within. It is a color you never see near shore. Pure, endless and strangely calming in the middle of all the challenges.

Peter and I keep reminding each other that these obstacles are the price of admission for crossing an ocean this size. Every broken part, every burned patch of skin, every careful sip of water is teaching us more about Hazel and about ourselves. The Pacific does not care, but we are still here, still moving west, still grateful for the moments of beauty that break through the hardship.

More miles behind us. Many more ahead. We will keep patching, rationing and watching that incredible blue water. We will greet every sunrise and sunset and welcome every dolphin that chooses to spend a few hours by Hazel’s side.

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A color coordinated sailor! Adriana you have to be proud!!!

Sailing under fiery sunsets, and moonlit nights.

Sailing under full canvas:

Yes I can sew! Don’t tell Crystal :)

Last but not least.. the only fish I have gaffed in a week!