Passage Life

          We just had our longest passage to date on Gualby. Four and a half days long and surprisingly uneventful. The oceans and winds were very kind to us; as if they knew we were going to love Mexico so they wanted us to get here safely and quickly. Winds ranged from 25 knots to 0 knots, seas 3-5 foot with an annoying three foot swell mixed in to flat calm and sparkling in the sun. We encountered no serious weather and although we always prefer to sail over motoring (not because we are hard core sailors but because our engines cavitate like a motha in anything more than 1-2 foot seas) we did use our engines to get us to Mexico before an anticipated cold front that was bringing 30+ knots to the Yucatan Peninsula. We caught a Dolphin (the delicious green and blue shiny kind) and saw dolphins (the flipper kind), we read books, ate good food, drank lots of green tea with honey, and slept in three hour increments without too much trouble.
          I had been looking forward to a longer passage for awhile. I knew Gualby could handle it and I was beginning to feel like I could too. I was ready to trade the training wheels for a big girl bike. You know the one, pink and purple with streamers flowing off the handlebars and a kick ass plastic basket with a daisy on it hanging off those gorgeous handlebars. I was ready. Con and I had done a few smaller overnight passages without difficulty. We learned a good amount during those passages. We had dealt with some nasty weather, hailed huge freighters in the distance that seemed to be barreling down on us at extreme speeds, cringed as we woke each other up to make sail changes, learned that even though one crew member is grumpy when you wake him up it is better to deal with grumpy then to be miles off course when it is grump’s turn at the helm. I learned that Penny and Conor are a shift team where I am a solo driver during the passages. My feelings aren’t hurt at all, Pen Dog; no big deal. We also had learned a lot about each other and what it is like to not only be husband and wife but partners in a completely different setting. We looked out for each other in a way we hadn’t before. I have never concentrated so hard at the helm in order to have the sails be luffing perfectly so Con can safely take sail down or make adjustments. To have it be as black as you can imagine out, no moon, no stars, winds picking up and the only thing you can see is the head lamp on the love of your life’s head bouncing with the movement of the boat, you discover a new found trust in each other. And it didn’t just magically happen, it was earned. There were plenty of swearing matches and “how can I communicate this more clear” discussions before we got to this point. I honestly don’t think we have ever high fived in our whole relationship as much as we have during the beginning of this trip.
          So, with our training wheels left in the Bahamas, we headed to Isla Mujeres, Mexico with as much excitement as a six year old ready to open the big boy bike shaped present at his birthday table. To my surprise, four days was easier than one or two days. We got in a little routine and I felt less tired during my shifts than I had in the past. The weather was almost perfect. I think there are about 20 exclamation marks in the log book about how beautiful each day was and how happy I am. Not sure if this is a bad thing or not, but our log book reads a bit more like a diary than a maritime document. I cant help it, it really is that beautiful and amazing that I feel the need to record it along with wave height, wind speed and direction. Almost the whole trip the winds were beam to and a little aft, waves gently pushing us along. We used the hell out of the code zero, it lets Gualby sail fast and easy.
          Con and I agree that there are better shifts at the helm than others. Whoever sleeps first we think that person gets the shaft. You don’t really sleep that good because it’s the 7-10 or 8-11 shift so you are really not that tired and then you are stuck with the “dark shift,” Hardly any stars, usually, which makes navigation difficult and you probably only got to sleep for an hour or so before your shift. My favorite shift was sunrise. No matter how tired I was in the dark before the dawn, I would perk right up with the light from the sun. Most times, I would hum “Here Comes the Sun” to myself as I watched the ocean change from a dark purple to a sparkling blue. I felt the most connection with the earth, the sun, the ocean, with life during that hour or so it takes the sun to fully emerge from behind the horizon. During shifts in general, a lot of reflection goes on. Reflection on life, self, relationships, family and friends back home, future events and plans, and current life choices. I have never thought so much about the person/wife/daughter/friend I would like to be as when I am alone at the helm. I see Con and Pen sleeping sound in the salon, the sails are full and flying us across the deep and seemingly endless ocean in front of me and I can feel the energy that surrounds me. Those peaceful moments of reflection are balanced by some less spiritual times. You feel like you just closed your eyes when you hear, “honey its your turn at the helm.” You feel like it shouldn’t be necessary to explain that cooking and cleaning up time does not count towards your sleeping time. You feel incredibly guilty when you look into the sweet eyes of your loyal pup who hasn’t peed in 32 hours because she is trying to be a good girl. You don’t really hang out with the other person that much, so you start to miss talking to the person that is 3 feet away from you, snoring. But, above everything else, you feel good at the end when you finally drop anchor. You feel proud of yourself and each other and you feel a little more grown up in every sense of the word.
M.

What Penny's been eating

                                         

Good Weather Mego

Penny keeping an eye on the Salty Dog

Sleep deprived

Passage Sunset

Meg attempting to coax Penny over to Team Solo Mego

sneaking up on Salty Dog

world's smallest yellowfin (or medium blackfin)

Dressed for sushi grade........what, .......Don't judge us, we're hungry

and we try not to waste much

Team ConPen attempting a weather check



Salty Dog rolling through a trough



Team ConPen off watch

Prepping for Mexico.  What?......That thing?  Oh thats a sick-ass Mexican Moustache.  Duh