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A Reflection of Christmas Past

   Since December 23, is our tenth year of owning Blow Me Away, our Gulfstar 50 Ketch, most Christmas's were spent onboard. The most memorable and indeed the most adventuresome was the year 1997, after only being boatowners for a year.  We were docked at the Harborage Marina in St. Petersburg, FL, and had had major upgrades done that summer/fall getting the masts restepped, all new halyards, new booms with jiffy reefing lines, and decklights. We were ready for some fun and had invited our good friends, Wayne, from San Francisco, Marc, from Ft. Lauderdale, FL, and Craig, from Gardner, KS, to join us in a leisurely cruise to Key West, with a stopover at the Dry Tortugas. It had been raining and overcast since we had arrived on the 23rd, and our crew showed up throughout the day and we busily prepared ourselves and the boat for the passage.  Our attitudes and enthusiasm was on the waning side, as it just kept raining; it just wasn't what we had pictured in our minds of Florida weather. Where's the sun?  It was decided to leave around 9-10pm, on Christmas night, in order to arrive at the Dry Tortugas on the morning of the 27th.  Sailing straight thru, an overnighter, no problem.  Christmas dinner was experienced at the only place open, a Chinese restaurant.  We ordered up a delicious Chinese feast, while the owners of the restaurant were having lasagna. We all shared the dishes and  we all hoped good fortune was shining on us.

   Returning back to the marina, we all watched the weather channel from the dockmaster's office.  There was this solid green mass right over the central part of Florida, and the extended forecast wasn't appealing either.  I left the men debating whether to depart now or wait.  I knew what the decision would be, so I wasn't surprised when an hour later we were motoring out into Tampa Bay.

It was blowing 20-25 knots out of the north, the plan was to outrun the storm, 15 miles south of Tampa Bay and we would be in the clear. The rain had stopped momentarily and  those visions of sun, soaking up some rays, relaxing and reading a book while sipping boat drinks were returning.  Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all.

After all the lines and fenders were properly stowed, the mainsail was raised and a reef put in as we motorsailed out of the Bay and into the Gulf of Mexico.  The night watches had been made, Aaron and Wayne on the 1st shift, Marc and I on the 2nd watch, while Craig, who had the least sailing experience was about to experience his first overnight passage. 

Trying to get some sleep in our aft cabin, I could feel exactly when we were out of the choppy waters of the bay and had entered the swells of the Gulf.  In the 4-6ft swells, the boat was making noises as the wood creaked and items not stowed properly were banging.  So I went on noise control and silenced a few.  The annoying slam was the head door in our aft cabin hitting the mizzen mast.  The clasp had come undone.  I tried to rest,  but couldn't sleep, and just lay there listening to the boat slamming into the waves.  I kept sliding down our mattress to the port side, since it lays abeam.  I waited for Aaron to come off watch, tired and wet.  We spent a few moments together before I left for my watch.

Coming out of the companionway with rain gear on, the sight of the seas was a bit shocking.  Oh, what a nasty night.  It was raining and the winds had risen with no signs of letting up.  Poor Craig was stretched out on the port settee.  No doubt that this was not what this Kansas boy had in mind.  Wet and cold, the bimini top was leaking in all places.

Marc had involuntarily given his dinner back to the sea as a sacrifice no doubt, asking for pleasanter weather.  But darn, it didn't work.  And the toast to King Neptune at the beginning of the cruise didn't help either.

The engine was running hot.  It was doing so when Aaron came off watch, but he had checked it and said that he didn't think the gauge was working properly, but to keep an eye on it.  I did.  The gauge didn't change and then finally the engine gave up and died.  It was 730am.  We had survived the night.  The engine had died earlier in the night and a new fuel filter had been installed by Aaron and Wayne.  But at this time, Wayne was just getting up and when he peeked into the engine room, he found that the alternator belt was broken.  No wonder she was running hot.  Well, we were in no hurry really to get anywhere, we were experiencing hell first hand.  All of us were tired and wet.  I made some tea and breakfast muffins were served up for anyone interested.  We were sailing along at 6 knots.  Hey, whatever happened to running clear of the storm?  Didn't someone say that just 15 miles south of Tampa Bay and we would be in the clear?  What happened to that forecast?

Everyone of us were hoping that just maybe we would see the sun and that the clouds would roll out of sight.  It had stopped raining and the sky was looking better by 10am.

A spare alternator belt was in the shop but locating it was still a mystery unsolved.  Aaron slept until I woke him up to ask him if he knew where the spare belt was hidden.  He replied sleepily, "In the drawer marked engine parts", he thought.  Still no luck in the ongoing search.  Aaron roused himself up and started tearing apart the shop.

By 1100am, the spare belt was found and installed.  The engine fired right up and on we motorsailed.  Wayne, Aaron and I were the only ones at this time who could go below as Craig and Marc were fighting mal de mer.

I placed a Vivaldi CD in the stereo and laid down on the salon settee.  Wayne was resting on the dining salon settee, not much room to stretch out but it was dry.  I listened to the soothing classical music while resting a bit.

At 1:00pm, I walked back towards our aft cabin and found water coming out underneath our bed out of the 2 small doors below.  It was alarming and went forward to tell Aaron.  He seemed unconcerned, so I went back to sponge up the water.  I kept at for 30 minutes then finally convinced Aaron to check it out.  He seemed to think he knew where the water was coming from and retreated out back towards the lazarette.  We had forgotten to latch the lazarette hatch properly and with all the spray and waves coming over our decks it was rushing into the lazarette and out onto our cabin sole.  Good another problem solved and lesson learned.  Although we have owned Blow Me Away for over a year now and been busy fixing her up, we are still novices when it comes to sailing offshore.  Our sailing experience up to last year had been on Kansas lakes, but had decided to stretch ourselves and our pocketbook for further sailing adventures. And here we were.

All of us were sitting in the cockpit, joking about how we had spent good money to be this miserable.  Marc was feeling better and managed to laugh at his affliction.  He said he knew it wasn't a question of if, but a matter of when.  That's Marc, his humor saves the day and his positive attitude and outlook on life is refreshing.  Craig, who hadn't left the port settee in the cockpit since we left,  was staying alert by looking out towards the horizon and thought he spotted a fin.  Sharks?  Good God no, maybe it was just a rogue wave.

The weather was getting worse and winds were now blowing 40+knots out of the south.  We decided to take a vote,  It was 2:30pm and we were still 20 miles from the Dry Tortugas.  Should we stay on course beating into the wind, or veer off and head for Key West?  Everyone but Wayne voted for Key West. Before we had a chance to change course, there was a banging noise.  Going down below, I searched for the cause.  Nothing in the shop was making it or anything else, so Aaron and Wayne put on their lifevests, clipped on to the jacklines and slowly made their way forward to the bow.  This was definitely the worst weather yet. We were experiencing now 60k gusts, the sea was white, the crests of the waves were being blown away and the winds were howling through the rigging. The boat was slamming hard into the waves.  Something had to give.

We could hardly see Aaron and Wayne at the bow, the boat was like a rocking horse rising up towards the sky then heading straight down.  They came back to the cockpit explaining that we had just lost the bow pulpit and one anchor with all her rode. The other anchor was out 45 ft. and the bow pulpit or what was left of it was banging against the hull.  Wayne went back to the bow while Aaron crammed himself into the chain locker below.  Together they managed to unscrew the remaining bolts and let the sea have the rest of our bow pulpit.  They finished securing what was left and placed the remaining anchor on the foredeck lashed down.  Both men were exhausted, and after setting a course to Key West, they went below to sleep.  We were now on a beam reach, sailing along at 9-10 knots and a much smoother ride.  Why didn't we do this earlier?  It was 4:30pm now and we were 60 miles west of Key West.  The wind had decreased to 30k. We wearily arrived at the fuel dock of a marina at midnite.  50 hours had lapsed, but we all felt years older.  Amazingly, we had made it safely, crew and boat.  I believe we were in shock as to what we had just put ourselves through.  Never again, lesson learned.  All sailors must respect the forces of nature and avoid those forces you don't want to experience.

Food. Something hot was now our primary goal at the moment and then sleep.  Ahh, a big greasy cheeseburger and fries.  Jimmy Buffett had it right when he sang "Cheeseburger in Paradise".  I like mine with lettuce and tomato, Heinz 57 and french fried potatoes, a big kosher pickle and a cold glass of beer, good golly which way do I steer......

The next morning, we were awakened by another banging on the hull, but this was just the marina dockmaster wanting to know what we wanted.  We staggered out and informed him that we desperately needed a slip if he had one available since we were unable to anchor in our present condition.  And our present condition looked terrible.  Not only did the persons on Blow Me Away look like hell, but our boat looked like it had been in a bad whirlwind.  No anchors, the lifelines are were slack and everything down below was wet.  The dockmaster said since the storm had hit, and no one else was foolishly adventuresome as we, he had slips available.  He said, all we had to do was make a L shape turn right into our slip.  Okay, great we could managed that we assured him. We had Marc and Craig and I on the docks to catch lines while Aaron steered and Wayne was in control of  the spring line, the most important dockline.  On the way, all 50 yds, Wayne had silently fell overboard to no ones attention and was hanging onto the springline behind the boat as we made our way into the slip.  Marc called out, "Where's Wayne? No answer was forthcoming. Silence.  Until we looked behind our boat and there was Wayne, wet and holding onto the springline.  We docked the boat, minus the springline and had the biggest belly laugh which was good to all of our souls after what we had been through.  Wayne had leaned against the lifeline expecting support, but since leaving our anchors and bowpulpit to the sea our lifelines were slack and he fell overboard.  We now have a saying onboard engraved in metal that documents this memorable event, "One hand for yourself, and one hand for waving goodbye", Captain Wayne. 

The most treasured ships to sail the sea are friendships and will always be.    Varuna