Monday, April 30, 2007

POST

Imagine you are lying in your bed in your cabin in the dark. There is no air conditioning
and you are near the equator, but the hatch above you is open and cool air is being scoped
in by the hatch cover flooding your body. This is better than any air conditioning.
Through the hatch is framed the brilliant moon that is nearly full. The moon beams in
lighting the room. That was my experience at 3 AM this morning. We are not supposed to
open the hatches on passage, but when I entered my cabin at 10 PM last night it was like
an oven holding in all the heat of the day. I first opened all three hatches and in
minutes the entire cabin was pleasant; however, the walls, bed linens and every thing else
in the room was radiating saved heat. I closed 2 hatches and laid down under the last
hatch to consider my options – close the last hatch and sleep on deck or leave the hatch
open and sleep in my own bed. With the hatch open it may rain or worse a rogue wave could
wash the deck and scoop gallons of sea water in my bed. If it rains it would wake me up
and I would just close the hatch. The sea is flat and rouge waves occur most often near
the poles, not the equator. Sleep interrupted my thought and that is why I had the
encounter with the moon at 3 AM. All and all, I thought I had been lucky; I did not know
how lucky until I started watch on the fly bridge.

Watch started at 6 AM; the sun was rising. Where is the clear sky that most assuredly
shown the moon so brightly in my cabin. Come to find out we have been hand steering all
night dodging thunder storms, not to miss rain or wind, but to miss lightning. We have two
cases of lightning taking down our electrical and navigation systems. Even though
yesterday's problems were not caused by lighting, we freshly remember the experience of
loosing navigational gear and do not want a repeat.

As soon as the sky lights up, we spot land. Way out here in the Pacific Ocean we spot an
island, Malpelo. Cliffs rise up hundreds of feet, straight up; the profile is so
impressive, surely it has been used making movies. Maybe it would be a good place to hold
a survivor reality series. The watch ends peacefully, but black clouds are looming ahead.

John's watch brings on the thunderstorms and rough seas, but without lightning. The wind
and current are on our nose so the progress is slow and very bouncy. Bella Donna's
beautiful cherry wood is talking, creaking, ouch. The bow is pounding hard and Bella Donna
is shuttering. An occasional wave breaks on the starboard bow and drops gallons of sea
water on the salon windows. We ask for a weather forecast over satellite. There are a
patch of thunderstorms ahead, as we make our way west tomorrow thunderstorms are much less
likely. We decide to reroute more south so as to slice into the oncoming waves and allow
us to raise the staysail to lessen the pounding and make more speed.

The rest of the day is better; we are still motoring with no sails up with light head
winds, a current against us, but flatter seas.

God Bless Bella Donna.

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