Sailing in the trade winds is a dream come true for sailors. These are the steady winds that blow from east to west near the equator, creating ideal sailing conditions for trade ships for centuries. But for a sailor who promised to write daily updates for this blog, trade winds are not a subject matter that has much variation. The days are mostly the same, with nothing but blue sky and water in sight. It's probably a better experience for Rhona as she's lucky enough to have me all to herself. The only excitement we had yesterday was when the wind shifted twice, forcing us to gybe and change course. And last night, we had to turn on the engine for a few hours as the wind died down completely. I hope you don't mind these reports, but that's the reality of sailing in the trade winds. Maybe tomorrow will bring something more adventurous. Or maybe not. I actually prefer it when it's not exciting, because excitement usually means something is going wrong or about to go wrong. And when things go wrong, they tend to snowball into bigger problems. Like that time we hit a whale and had to patch up a hole in the hull. Or that time we were attacked by pirates and had to fight them off with our bare hands. Or that time we ran out of water and had to drink our own - OK, I made those up, but you get the idea. Sailing in the trade winds is not an entertaining blog subject unless you're naturally gifted at writing. You do get a lot of time to think about things you wouldn't normally consider. A recurring concern I have when we are sailing miles from land is yawning and my mouth getting stuck open. Passage making is more like a long road trip, except you can't stop for gas or snacks. So a perfect trip won't result in any thrilling stories from me and I'll try to do 2 small yawns instead of one big one. And I've expanded slightly on my theme of pictures titled 'sailing in the dark'. This one is called 'sailing in the trade winds at night'.
The dream of a seamless yacht delivery aboard the Fontaine Pajot 47 seemed like a solid plan. However, life, with its unpredictable currents, threw us a curveball. My trusted crewmate was struck by the ever-present Covid! Even though he's as tough as old sea boots, it definitely slowed him down. The pre-departure days were a delicate balancing act. While the initial concerns about a sick crewmate were undeniable, a strong sense of purpose took hold. Provisioning, finalizing paperwork, and familiarizing myself with Namarie became a mission with Craig putting in 110% effort despite his 20% health. Constant communication with my recuperating crewmate ensured a smooth handover of duties, keeping the team spirit alive despite maintaining physical separation and wearing masks. Stepping aboard Namarie, the initial awe at her sleek lines and luxurious interior was palpable. However, the euphoria was tempered by a healthy dose of respect for the vessel's complexity. The sophisticated na...
Comments
Post a Comment