Man 0 Beast 2
A year afloat: to the Caribbean and back
Sam and Alex Fortescue
Mon 8 Nov 2010 18:17
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29:57.63N
015:59.18W
As the sun sets on a serene Atlantic, two small
islets sinking slowly astern, there is an air of resignation about the cockpit
of Summer Song. First, we've just had news via the satphone that we need to
alter course for Gran Canaria and skip Tenerife. Mission control in Dorset has
been in touch to say that we can't get the watermaker repaired unless we shape a
course for Las Palmas immediately because it will otherwise take too long to get
in spare parts.
Alex had been tantalising me with tales of
Tenerife's mountains reaching to the heavens and among the lushest scenery and
best food in all of Spain. Luckily, the detour only adds 20 miles to this
passage and the course is better for the scant wind we've got at present. In any
case, it will be excellent to get the Katadyn sorted out.
Second, and far more seriously, we have been
cheated out of supper by some poor tackle selection on my part. We've been
trawling a diving fish lure for a couple of hours, and as we approached the
smaller of the Salavage Islands about two hours ago, there was a sudden
defeaning shriek from the fishing reel as line raced out. "We're into a fish," I
bellowed. "Probably a tuna!".
But even as I started to reel in, I felt the line
go dead and when the lure surfaced, it was unadorned with tuna fillets.
Determined to catch the beast, I slipped the lure out astern again and 20
minutes later the reel screamed into life and began paying out line at a
blistering pace. I applied a bit of brake to the reel and after a few seconds,
it went dead again. This time, though, there was a lifeless floaty quality to
the line which promised that the lure itself was no longer
attached.
Sure enough, the line ended abruptly and I imagine
there is an irate fish charging about the Salvage Islands with 6 hooks and a
plastic fish stuck through its lower lip. Apart from the disappointment of not
landing the catch, we've lost our prize lure and are now reduced to tentative
use of the bird catching lure. Alex declared its action 'very fishy', but it has
so far proved of interest only to the shearwaters that flock these
waters.
It's all the more galling for having been moored up
in Madeira to a game fishing boat bristling with reels which came back each day
weighed down with prize winning tuna. They were using plastic lines as thick as
a shoe lace in obvious contrast to my very light 25lb line. Oh well, it's a good
thing we've got some tins of beef stew squirreled away in the
bilges.
There's 110 miles to the Canaries, we've got half a
pack of Fox's glacier mints, it's dark and we're wearing sunglasses... hit
it.
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