Blog Entry 6 - The ones that got away

04° 38.2 N 084° 25.0 W. The ones that got away Heading into the blue - well it’s more
like a green soup, this ocean is an incredible surface layer of fish and
jellies which we can see below the hull as we skim along. No wonder this ocean is full o’ big fish.
Not that we can catch them, tho' we did have the world’s biggest
marlin/sailfish/whale/unseen-record-breaking-giant take our bait and head off
at super high speed towards, roughly, Nicaragua. The monster successfully
stretched out the whole 500 odd metres of line and then broke the reel. This
happened when we were at the opposite end of the boat trying to rig the
spinnaker. As we heard the reel spin we
bellowed a joint cry of “FFFIIISSSHHHH” we scampered across the decks to the
rear only to find that the fixed reel handle spinning in an un-controllable finger
chopping fashion, like a runaway scythe.
Eventually the danger stopped with a jerk as the line reached its
bowline end. Now that the reel handle
was properly disengaged from the winding mechanism we were obliged to haul in
the line using an improvised reel (ok, before you think of an impressive Apollo
13 style improvisation it was a piece of 4” by 1” timber). Believe me, now we know why they invented
reels. Of course, when we finally got
to the hook the world’s-biggest-record-breaking-monster-fish was nowhere to be
seen.
Yesterday, we flew the spinnaker. It’s hard to describe how joyful it is to
have such a colourful sail out front and with it’s rainbow reflection in the
water. We were joined by a couple of
dolphins to complete this happy event.
At night we can sometimes hear the dolphins but cannot always see them –
they exhale as they arch with a small explosive breath of expelled air. It can make you jump if you don’t recognise
the sound.
We’ve had little moon light at night and
our eyes adjust to the brightness of the stars – it’s surprising what you can
see in the dark. Our watches, are
overseen by Orion - the warrior. The
familiar points of his formation have accompanied us throughout our
travels. Some of the other stars and
planets are so bright you cannot look directly at them. The milky way – unimpeded by ambient light
pollution is something to behold. To aid
vision when checking the fine details of sails or rigging or to make hourly
written log entries we use red head torches – this preserves the night vision
that white light will otherwise impair.
We’ve settled into a comfortable
routine of four hours on four hours off.
This suits us both as off-watch we can get a decent rest and on-watches
are not overly long. We throw in a
couple of dog watches (half watches of 2 hours) mid-day to ensure we don’t
always do the same hours every night.
(If you’ve never done it, you probably need to draw a timeline to work
out what I mean). Daylight hours we are
both awake and surprisingly busy.
Yesterday, we used our water maker to top up the water tanks. We also performed the daily rigging check and and
of course entered into the endless round of fixing stuff. We are always tending to the yacht’s
fine-tuning of her direction and sails.
We monitor the horizon, radio and screens for other traffic but in the
last 5 days we’ve only seen two distant ships.
During mealtimes we listen to the occasional podcast and at that stage,
when the sun goes down, we often look forward to dry land when we can have a
beer.
So we’re well, and happy, and we’re now
in a tidy routine. It’s a comfortable
and romantic method of travel, and we feel very lucky. We look forward to getting into those
southern hemisphere trade winds. |