The day began under blue but quiet skies. The inclinations of the crew towards various night-time
depredations had the night before been blunted by anticipation of the coming
voyage. Clear heads and settled stomachs
found further solace in flat seas as we paraded out of San Diego with the
gigantic Ha Ha fleet of 150 boats. With
no wind at the appointed 1100 hour, the Grand Poobah of the Ha Ha announced a
“rolling start” and the fleet was off, motoring on southward headings past Coronado
Island. At 1300 the wind filled to 10
knots from the NW, the rolling start was cancelled, and all over the fleet spinnakers
were hoisted. Our spinnaker was our A1.5,
which due to the discovery of a tear up the middle top, was promptly bagged and
replaced by our A5. It was a promising start:
downwind sailing under flat seas. The
kind of day they make Viagra ads out of.
The wind built through the afternoon to
18-20 and provided some time for instruction of the crew new to the boat
and for a few ship-board routines to settle in before nightfall. As the sun set the sea swell was building and
the boat posted surfing speeds: 10’s,
12’s a couple of 16’s, even with a conservatively reefed main. Yeah baby!
But for the crew, perhaps these sailing conditions were providing a
little more fear factor than for the skipper…
And as later events would testify, said skipper had made a
mistake that was just waiting to provide the sort of hard bite that snakes love
to deliver: fast, nasty and full of
coils!
Ask any sailor – midnight to 2am seems to always be the
appointed hour of trouble. So at midnight it is time for skipper to wake from
his nap and begin the witching hour shift. The wind has now piped to +20,
gusting 24 knots. The boat is powered up
under the sail plan and there is a goodly swell running. The crew all on deck are wondering how to
sheet the kite? When exactly do you ease
it and when do you pull it in they ask?
Hmmm, maybe it is time to furl the kite thinks skipper, but first to
demonstrate: when the boat rolls on the wave and heels excessively, it then powers
up too much and the rudder loses traction and comes out of the water, which causes loss of steering control. To remedy, one eases the sheet to
spill the wind and let the boat stand back up.
Then one winches the sail back in to refill it. Fairly easy to do.
Look, there’s a gust now, see.
Hand me that sheet will ya? You have to let it out quite quickly when
that happens… Sound of wind and rushing
water. Oh, oh: that’s a “round-up” folks:
the boat is now gonna tip way over on
its ear – so watch your footing and hang on tight! The spinnaker now flapping in the wind fills
the air with the sort of roar a lion would make, if he was a sail. More
instructions get shouted out into the wind. Ease the main, blow the
traveller.
In the pitch of night on a boat it is sound that defines
chaos, and chaos likes to speak loudly! Wind, rushing water and flogging sails can make noises that make some
people imagine sea monsters. But a sailboat
round-up actually isn’t that big a deal, really. Ease the sheets, stand the boat back up-right,
sheet the sails back in and in a heartbeat the boat rushes forward and you’re back to normal sailing. That scary lion you heard roaring so loudly a
moment ago was not really so close as you thought. And so it would be in this case, but for that
previously mentioned snake...
It is a snake that has eaten a pig. Skinny at head and tail and fat in the
middle. His name is “Furled Jib” and he
lays asleep, coiled around the forestay.
Nothing to look at here, folks - it is where snake usually sleeps.
However, as for most creatures, the sound of chaos can awaken a snake. And this snake, when he wakes up, promptly
reaches out and snatches that loudly flapping kite.
You all know how snakes like to coil up with their prey? As it happens, a flapping kite also has a bit
of snake in its DNA and it too likes to coil.
If you have ever had the pleasure of seeing snakes make love, the way
they wrap themselves up is a snarling sort of affair. It is really cool to look at, once you get
your mind set up to be calmly scientific and dispassionate in what you are seeing.
So about one minute after said round-up, and now located on the foredeck, the
skipper is gifted with a perfect opportunity to affect his best worldly
scientific view while watching snakes copulate.
I mention that a brave young scientist might be tempted to
reach in to the coils and separate those snakes to see what might happen. But a tired skipper knows when he has already
been bit. Fat old “snake-with-pig” now has
a firm grip on “kite-the-other-snake” (or maybe the other way around) and there will be absolutely no
separating them without executing dangerous aerobatic heroics aloft while at sea.
It is now blowing 25 gusting 30. Shit, we are going to have to live with that
flapping mess all the rest of the way to Turtle Bay before we can safely fix
it. Bummer.
And so went the rest of the leg. With the forestay system completely fouled and with brisk winds prevailing, we sailed thereafter under main alone, supplemented by
a tiny little scrap of storm jib tacked to an inner pad-eye. The skipper had well succeeded in scaring his entire
crew and even with a sail plan now calmed down, the coiled snakes on the forestay were
eager to keep the crew scare factor up by announcing their love-making session
anew upon each gybe. After each gybe first occurs noisy sail flapping with boat-jerking sail uncoiling, followed by new sail snake coiling action in the other direction,
taking up an hour or so.
On a happy front, through all this time no one on the boat
felt the littlest bit seasick. We arrived at Turtle Bay the morning of the
second day and were surprised to find ourselves still the 8th or 9th
boat in. The strong winds had produced a
significant bit of carnage out among the fleet.
Some people claimed there were 30 foot seas but having seen the same
waters, this claim definitely has the smell of fish story.
Unfortunately, one boat in the fleet had run aground, at a total loss of
ship. Luckily in the early stages of the
grounding another nearby boat had affected a rescue of all hands on board, so
the loss was merely pecuniary. But no
doubt still a major blow to the owners and crew.
On board Anduril, newly arrived at Bahia de Tortugas, snake
charming clean-up efforts are to follow.
The skipper has firmly learned his lesson to never again fly the kite
with a furled up jib. But we are in a
big beautiful anchorage, with swimming off the boat and adventures ashore, and our
eager to participate crew is waiting to jump into the sea.
.......Greg
Heading to the Leg 1 start at San Diego on October 31st.
A rolling start - motor sailing.
Preparations for Election Day.
Sunset and ready for night watch.
When morning came... snake on snake-with-pig.
Now the storm sail halyard is also entangled.
Can we make it through another day?
Finally at Bahia de Tortugas and Greg starts what will become a 5 hour untangling job.
Gabor, Adrian, and Greg.
"Yes, please, Panga!" "Get us off this sailboat onto dry land!"
At anchor in Bahia de Tortugas. The snake tied into submission waiting for calm winds.
Going to town.
The legendary baseball game with the town kids.
Success. The snake is unfurled and uncoiled.
A beautiful anchorage.
The garbage man.
Beach party.
