Caribbean Report - Part II
We are bruised, and sore, and tired, but - we actually did it!
I think both of us were pretty nervous about the whole thing - and
justifiably so.
It was physically demanding, out there on the “high seas”.
Winds
20-25 knots, waves, and us in a simple little 24’ boat, heeling like crazy.
Water nearly reaching the precarious edge of the boat.
No idea what we are supposed to be
doing.
Our instructor was a young Swede named Tim.
He usually races big
professional carbon-fiber boats.
He was perfectly at home in a sideways boat.
I was in a
fair panic about holding the rudder, bouncing up and down and all around.
Stan and I hoisted the sails, climbing up on the cabin trunk.
We manned the sheets, the tiller, tacked and jibed and tacked again.
Each time
scrambling from one side of the boat to the other, ducking under the boom.
We did
180’s and PIW (person in water) rescues.
We actually retrieved the fender
(the fake man overboard) each time!
I didn’t think it could be done.
We rounded
buoys, aimed for islands.
We would figure out how to get there, and what we
needed to do.
It was up to us to set the course and take the necessary actions.
We docked at the fuel dock, on sail only.
We left the pier backwards,
sailed (without an engine- this boat was sail power only) carefully between the mega catamarans.
- without incident.
Navigated the narrow harbor entrance coming and going several times.
Avoided several
high-speed ferries and a tanker, and a number of motoring yachts.
We even
brought the sailboat back and moored it beside another one, coming up perfectly
parallel before we tied ours to it. All by sail power only.
We attached and raised the sails, took them
down, and did all the necessary knots in the sails.
And now - we are physically and mentally beat.
What a workout!
I
mean, even just climbing in and out of these small boats takes some thinking for us.
I was a bit worried before we started - we both were.
Were we up to this?
There
were NO other small sailboats out between the islands.
Much less one with a 60 and 65
year old learning to sail.
Even this morning, we discussed it - we were both
pretty apprehensive.
So last night, we were pretty beat.
We met the instructor on the 36’ monohull boat this morning.
We needed to learn about all the winches and sails.
It's the
one we’re going to charter ourselves next week.
I
thought: Yikes! How can Stan and I EVER hope to control this massive piece of
equipment?
All by ourselves? And not kill ourselves and others in the process?
But the day went well, and we did a LOT .
Tim
gave us a pretty thorough workout.
Of course, he’s 28, fit, and he’s been
sailing since he was 7.
He has no idea how clueless we are.
And how hard it is
for us.
He just stands up in the steeply heeling boat, at what seems to us to
be a death-defying 45 degree angle, calmly talking, while we are desperately
trying to hold onto something and not fall out of the boat. Wow.
We tacked back and forth inside the marina, too - on sail alone.
Our small motor-less comparatively tiny boat -
- thru all these mega yachts and
mega catamarans.
There's incredible wealth on display.
We didn't want to ruin anyone's paint job.
Or worse.
We were able to find our way
thru them, as crowded as they were, without hitting anything.
That part was
really easier than I expected.
It was the heavy wind and waves and heeling that made me
uncomfortable at first.
But soon I realized that the waves mean little - it is
all more a question of wind.
I didn’t know that.
And knowing who has the right of
way and how to avoid other boats.
What you’re supposed to do when 2 vessels
come close to each other.
We met situations - and Tim would let us figure out
how to get out of them on our own.
How to de-tangle a twisted jib, how to
recover from a missed tack and an uncontrolled jibe.
We did a LOT .
When we said good-bye to Tim, we were sweaty and salty and exhausted.
And so now we’re “home”, after negotiating the Tortola traffic,
driving on the narrow roads, left-hand side, with the wheel on the American
side, with crazies passing us on hairpin turns, up and down mountains, and
having to maneuver, only an inch to spare, mirrors pulled in, thru the steep
jungle road past another car, just to get to our place. *whew*
Stan is icing down his bruises.
They ARE rather stellar,
blue-violet and red-violet, and huge.
I’m off to a hot shower.
Then a
glass (probably we’ll finish the bottle) of rosé from Provence
Tomorrow we take our first sailing exam.
Here’s the weird part:
The exam is only required for people who want to charter
boats.
(We hope to get our International License, which gives us the option to
charter in other countries.)
However:
If you BUY a boat - even a huge, 72’ mega-yacht with all the fancy
instruments, gadgets and trimmings - there is no licensing requirement to drive
the thing.
You can get out there and just - GO.
This is a rather scary thought.
There are a LOT of boats here.