On our little island in the South Pacific, Bella Donna, the captain has come to the crew
with a problem. It seems even though we have taken perfect care of the time pieces aboard
ship and for many important rituals like being on time for a watch, eating meals and other
routine chores all is well; however, all is not well on the island. After considerable
analysis using geography, maps, navigational aids, clocks, almanacs and some artful
MEASURING, the captain has determined that the clocks in Marquesas will be 3.5 hours
earlier than our current time pieces when we arrive. A one half hour time zone change,
what's up with that. The captain has noticed how slow things get started in the morning on
our island; the sun is not rising until a quarter to 9 and on a cloudy day breakfast
coffee is still being brewed around 10AM. The captain has also noticed that he has trouble
getting needed shut eye before his 12AM watch; the sun is not setting until nearly 9PM,
which is not a problem with you land lubbers who are enjoying daylight savings time.
However in the tropics we do not do daylight savings time as the following morning would
suffer; we expect the sun to set between 6 and 7PM and the sun to rise between 6 and 7AM;
the sun rose at exactly 6AM on the morning we left Galapagos.
The captain's plan is to set all time pieces, just like any island home there are many,
back 1 hour at 6PM today. Since this would make the captain's 4 hour watch that starts at
2PM go 5 hours, he plans to use the beloved Galley Slave, Deborah, who has given a
sundowner cocktail that same name, on watch for the lost hour. We will evaluate, measure,
and adjust further if required. Stay tuned.
On watch this morning it was very dark and we had good wind in our sails. Bella Donna was
making a swooshing sound through the water indicating a swift vessel speed. We were making
7.5 to 8 knots. As I sat rocking, rolling and speeding through the dark, I wondered why
they don't provide seat belts on sailing vessels. Surely the prospect of running head-on
into a partially submerged object at night when all you have is radar to see with is a
possibility. After all John and Deborah's friends hit a partially submerged shipping
container, that fell off a freighter, and their fiberglass vessel sank in a little more
than 3 minutes near Belize. We came within 20 feet of hitting a dead whale partially
submerged in broad daylight just a few days ago. I visualized riding in a car going 9 to
10 miles an hour and hitting a fixed object, like they do with the crash dummies. I just
do not know what the damage would be. I decide the reason they do not provide seat belts
is the likelihood of this happening is way unlikely. Anyway I can see the ocean ahead of
us now so off with the radar to save electricity and on with the ice maker, a necessity
during the hot humid days. Off with running, navigation, lights we are now on visual where
any unlikely partially submerged object can be seen. Just then the VHF radio which has
been totally silent for days blurts out a voice in French. We don't understand what he is
saying but we know the radio range is line of sight and therefore 25 miles or so. I rise
up and look ahead on the port side. Don looks around the Genoa on the starboard side. Don
says, "What is that"? It looks like a life raft just ahead and off our starboard track
about 100 feet. We could not see it until it was this close as the Genoa covered its
approach like the whale the other day. We had time to get binoculars before it came up
abeam of us. It is looks like a weather buoy that transmits current and wave or swell
height to satellite and then gets included in weather reports on the internet. Wow, I am
glad we did not take this buoy between hulls under the bridge deck in the dark. In a
reflexive motion I instinctively reach for the seat belt.
After Ant's watch, about 2PM, he asks if it is OK if he puts out the fishing lines. I
quickly calculate the meals we have eaten to visualize space in the fridge. I decide there
is enough room for a small fish and after all the likelihood we get another big fish is
surely small. Besides, Ant is really enjoying the thrill of fishing. Just before the
Galley Slave watch Deborah shouts the now famous line, "The fishing pole"! The drag just
does not work and all the line empties off the reel, but this time the new 200 pound line
holds. We quickly start pulling in the empty lines so we do not tangle. Good thing
because this fish is jumping out of the water, completely out then swimming across the
quickly withdrawing lines. John uses the port scoop stair as a fighting chair. It takes 30
minutes to land another big Wahoo almost as big as the one we caught the other day. We
would catch and release him, but the fight has cause him to die so there goes room in the
fridge for night time ice; we turn off the ice maker after sundown to save electricity for
radar, lights and other instruments at night.
So much for my figuring probabilities; I want another day without measuring, please.
God Bless Bella Donna.
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