You understand now why you came this way.
'Cuz the truth you might be running from is so small
But it's as big as the promise, the promise of a coming day."
~ Southern Cross
Crosby, Stills & Nash
Chibley playing with Liam's shoelace.Wow! What a a trip so far! After a somewhat slow and stilted beginning, Picton Castle is well on her way on her epic 5th world voyage, and I feel priviledged to be along for the ride.
Departure day dawned bright and early for me as I was put on galley duty and had to check in by 6:30. By our 9am departure the ship was abuzz with activity. There were sails to loose and everything not secured had to be stowed and lashed into place. Chibley had to be caught and, much to her chagrine, be placed under "cabin arrest" in the engineer"s cabin. I'm sure she was not impressed, as she likes to make her rounds and know what is happening! I made my way to the headrig to help loosen the inner jib, outer jib and fore topmast staysail, which had been secured to the jibboom, in preparation of being set.
The dock was crowded with people waiting to say their goodbyes and send us off - there were a lot of teary-eyed friends and loved ones. It was a very emotional few moments, as the reality of what we are about to undertake finally sank in. This is really happening! We are really going! Woo Hoo! The excitement was palpable, to say the least. After the mayor said a quick blessing it was time to be on our way. I was instructed by the mate to do a final headcount to make sure all were on board and then Picton Castle gently pulled away from the dock.
Triumphantly, with hopes set high, we set sail out of Lunenburg Harbor under full sail. What a feeling, after weeks of preparation and anticipation, to be finally on our way! Cannons sounded in the distance amid cheers from the dock and I think it's safe to say our spirits were soaring! What a disappointment, a short while later, when the captain announced we would be turning around - it seemed that not one, but both radars were not working and he did not feel comfortable proceeding without at least one functioning. Because we had already cleared out of the country we were obliged to remain at anchor in Lunenburg harbor until the situation could be remedied. At around 10 the next morning, we once again made our way out away from land and civilization and into the big, blue Atlantic. Turns out, as fate would have it, we avoided a low pressure system and ensuing gale, which would have been a little rough for us "newbies" to endure our first time out to sea. Hmmm, I've always believed that everything happens for a reason...
The first couple of days the weather was calm, with little wind, forcing us to motor along until we could catch a breeze. It was a good opportunity to get our sea legs, get introduced to our watch systems, and get accustomed to life at sea. We were put on the helm pretty much right from the get go, first in 15 minute stints, then 30 and then finally hour long stays. It gives each person a chance to get the feel of PC and how she responds to the wheel. We were also put on hour-long lookout shifts at the bow, to look out for any sort of potential hazard, such as submerged cargo containers, other marine craft and bad weather, as well as things of interest such as dolphins or whales. My very first lookout I had a small pod of dolphins playing and riding the waves under the bowspit. It was so cool to watch! And we did see whales spouting off, although not close. At night, bioluminescent algae and other glowing creatures can be spotted among the waves, and even wash up onto the deck from time to time. I've been told that if you turn out the lights at night while pumping the head, you can actually see it swirling around in the bowl. I tried it but no luck... One night we got so excited because we were convinced that we could hear dolphins talking back and forth among themselves. We were dismayed to learn that, in fact, it was only birds. Being cheeky, we told the following watch to listen for the dolphins and had a good chuckle at their expense. We did tell them the truth - the following day.
Our good weather was not to last, however, and we were forced to "batten down the hatches" as a gale moved in, bringing with it winds of about 20-25 knots, gusting to 30 knots and seas with up to 15 foot waves. Not too terrible, according to our fearless captain, but a good one none the less. It was a little disconcerting to see the stern (back end) dip down into a swell with the next swell being higher than the back of the ship. Hand lines were strung up along the main and quarter decks, as well as safety nets strung up along the sides, so we were kept safe and secure. Lookouts were posted alongside the bridge amidship, rather than at the bow, with a person on both starboard and port sides. Harnessing in was a must. It was a bit of challange, at times, staying on your feet (a couple of nasty bruises the size of a bread-roll plate could attest to that) and It was also a bit of a feat to keep yourself from feeling like you were about to fall out of your bunk while trying to sleep at night. Sails were brought in and stowed and we switched to motor power to ride it out and get to fairer weather faster. The ship rocked and rolled - what a ride! I have felt a little queasy at times, but so far have been able to keep from feeding the fish. There was much excitement as we finally entered the gulf stream, and the water and air temperatures began to increase and we were happy to finally be able to shed our foulie and cold weather gear - although I've been assured by the captain that I will probably need them again once we hit the Indian Ocean.
I wasn't too pleased to discover, one day, that my bunk had spung a leak, and that water was slowly seeping down into my cubby. UGH! I pulled everything out and tried to dry it out as best I could. The next morning I awoke to feel drops of water dripping on my shoulder, and the foot of my bunk absolutely soaked. I wasn't impressed, but then again, I AM at sea. I enlisted the help of WT, the bosun and Nicksa, his assistant who plastered the surface overhead with absorbant pads, but were unable to fix the source of the leak. Hopefully once we hit port they'll be able to sort it out. Once the warm weather returned, I was able to tear my bunk apart, air it out and wash and hang all of my sodden clothes. Yep, ya gotta love life at sea!
I wasn't sure what I'd think about spending so much time away from land at first since the longest stretch at sea I'd done was about 4 days, and that was on a cruise ship. But, I have to admit that I really have enjoyed settling in, falling into a routine and getting to know my fellow ship mates. My 8 - 12 watch crew consists of Liam, Joanna, Meredith, Shawn, Brad, Dan, Joani, Lorraine and Josh (also known as Jon) with AB's Sophie and Katelinn and our mate, Mike. We have a great crew, who have become like a little family - we get on very well and have a lot of laughs. Our official motto has become "Hydrate Or Die". Pretty self explanatory, I think. Individual water bottles are a common sight among our members (in fact many of the crew), much to the wonderment of our captain, but, as it gets hotter it's important to stay well hydrated. We've also labeled ourselves, the "Squally Bit" watch. I'm sure most of you must have some idea what a squall is, but for those of you who don't I'll explain to the best of my ability. A squall can consist of rain with lots of wind; rain with no wind or wind with no rain; or so I've been told. Dictionary.com describes it as "a sudden, violent gust of wind, often accompanied by rain, snow, or sleet" or "a sudden disturbance or commotion". Regardless, they aren't very pleasant, especially when it's cold.
Anyhoo, our watch seems to attract what Sophie has endearingly termed "squally bits" - it seems like everytime we are about to go on watch, the clouds come and then the temperature drops and then the heavens open up. It's not so bad as the weather improves and the water temperature rises, but the first couple of weeks were COLD!
Our watch is also fond of riddles - "A man walks into a restaurant and orders a bowl of Albatross soup. He takes one spoonful and immediately throws himself out the window, killing himself. Why?" And then we try to figure it out. Yeah, I'll leave you guys to it... At night, especially when we are motoring, we tend to have a lot of time to hang out on the quarter deck and amuse ourselves thusly - aside from helm, lookout, hourly ship checks, making coffee and hot water, wake-ups for the oncoming watch and the occasional sail handling, of course.
On May 17th,in honor of our two Norwegian shipmates, Siri and Johanna, we celebrated "Norway Day" also known as the day Norway signed their "declaration of independence". Each watch dressed up in costumes celebrating Norway. There was a parade, songs, games and each watch paid tribute in its own way. Our watch made up a little ditty about our "Favorite Things" from Norway. There was a bit of silliness - okay, maybe a lot of silliness, a lot of laughter and I think it's safe to say that almost everyone had a good time.
The first few weeks were challenging, having to deal with rough seas, foul weather, less sleep, adjusting to watch schedules, etc., and so it was much to our collective delight when the captain announced that we would be putting into Anguilla for a much needed respite, not to mention the fact that the winds had shifted and once gain made sailing very challenging. He decided some sun, relaxation and sand between our toes might be a welcome change. I think we all could have hugged him when the news was announced. Suddenly the moods were brighter, more laughter was heard and there was a new energy in the air. I was at the helm when we sailed closer to the island. The captain gave me some great steering advice; "See that reef and see that island? Don't hit 'em". I was finally relieved by Nadja, although told to stand by, watch and learn. She is an amazing helmswoman! We dropped anchor in about 6 fathoms of water (a fathom is 6 feet, or 1.8 metres).
Anquilla is a quiet, sleepy island in the caribbean, east of the Virgin Islands in the British West Indies. The northern most island in the Leeward chain, Anguilla is just an hour flight from Puerto Rico and a 20 minute ferry ride from our neighbor to the south, St. Martin/Maarten. Anguilla has over 30 white sand beaches and is reputed to have one of the nicest beaches in the world, Shoal Bay. The island itself is about 17 miles long and 3 miles wide at it's widest point and has a population of about 13 thousand mostly English speaking people. It is a British Overseas Territory. *This information was taken from the Anquilla Guide website. In short, it was a beautiful, quiet, relaxing place to stop and recharge. A group of us headed out to the famous Shoal Bay to do a bit of swimming, grab a bite to eat - including ice cream and a Bushwacker or two - and, of course, some shopping. It was a fun day! I was saddend to learn, later in the day, that my grandmother Moberg had passed away. It's kinda tough to receive sad news while so far away from home - I took a stroll along the beach, had a good cry and said a quiet prayer for her and my family. I believe she is in a much better place, along with mom and grandpa.
After 3 days of relaxation (well, two, really, since one was sent on watch), I was ready to head back out to sea and continue our marvelous adventure. After Nadja skillfully negotiated us out of precarious waters, the captain once again put me at the helm, with Nadja's guidance. I have to admit, I was smiling like a village idiot, but it felt so good to be back underway, with the wind in my hair and the sway of the ocean beneath my feet. I wish I had adequate words to explain the feeling, but unless you experience it for yourself, it's difficult to understand. Needless to say, I was in my element and all was at peace in my world.
And so, a few days later, we were surprised to hear that we would once again be putting into port - this time the island of Bonaire, about 60 miles off the caost of Venezuela. It seemed that, yet again, the winds had shifted and we would be sailing directly into them - not what you want. Doesn't give you much forward motion... And the captain was very succinct in saying that he had no desire to motor all the way to Panama - it's expensive and he didn't want to do it. So, Bonaire it was to be.
For those who scuba dive, Bonaire is a well known spot. There are literally hundreds of dive sites all along the coastline, most being within shore distance. The diving is considered by some to be world class. And so, naturally I chose to do some diving. Liam put up a sign up sheet for anyone interested in diving, whether they had experience or not, and then arranged with a local dive shop for those who weren't certified to do a discovery dive course, and those who were to spend the morning doing two dives. Early the next morning, Liam, Josh, Dan, Johanna, Meredith and I all headed down to the dive shop. It worked out perfectly since Both Liam and myself are certified rescue divers and Dan has his advanced, and so we were paired with those who didn't have as much experience. My buddy was Josh. It had been 3 years since my last dive, and so I felt a bit rusty during my first dive but as the dive progressed it began to feel more and more natural again. By second dive it felt as if I'd never been out of the water. We saw some cool things, such as eels, rays, barracuda and LOADS of colorful reef fish.
I think it's safe to say that everyone had a great time on Bonaire. It's also a beautiful island, known as one of the ABC islands (Aruba, Bonaire and Curacao), part of the Netherlands Antilles, or Dutch Caribbean. It's known for it's pioneering role in nature conservation, particularily in marine environement. There are great restaurants, good resorts and various other activities, such as windsurfing, kayaking, snorkeling - even mountain biking. Most of our crew rented scooters, quads or jeeps and toured around the island. I took some much needed time to myself, wandered around, relaxed and recharged. Again, after a few days I was ready to move on and make for Panama and it's famous canal.
I have to say that so far this experience has surpassed my expectations. Yeah, it hasn't always been sunshine and roses - in fact at times it's been downright miserable - but I've learned that what you put into an experience such as this one, you get out. Attitude is everything when you're crammed into a relatively small space with many people of differing personalities, or faced with situations that just outright suck. Sure, you can spout off and be miserable, but all that serves is to make not only yourself, but everyone around you miserable, too. Learning to "let it go" is a valuable trait. I am truly blessed to be a part of this incredible adventure and so I feel it's imperative to accept the good with the bad (and there is much, much more good than bad). It truly isn't as hard as it sounds once you make an effort to be positive. It's all about perspective; in Panama it's VERY hot and humid - sweat literally runs down your body, especially when you're working. It's not very pleasant to be covered in rust, dust, dirt, tar, oil, paint, diesel, sunscreen - all intermingled with sweat. But at the end of the day, after they've hooked up the "power shower" and you've scrubbed down and feel somewhat cleaner, that "cold one" sure tastes good!
Until Galapagos (I'll update you on Panama then), hasta luego...
ps. pictures to come...
