1997

KNOCKDOWN

So it’s ’97, Ulla, my wonderful crew for 6 yrs, Thalia and I were anchored in Las Aves, Venezula, hoping the weather would ease so we could sail to the San Blas Is, Panama, but it’d been blowing 40 kts for almost 2 wks . We were in touch via radio with friends already there who were advising not to even think about it. Apparently boats were arriving with swept decks and horror stories of wave heights. We weren’t arguing, no point in getting hammered needlessly. We were also listening to Herb “Southbound 2” a well respected weather forecaster/router. There appeared to be about a ½ dozen boats wanting to sail across the bottom of the Caribbean , so there was no need for us to contact him directly, just listen in. The spearfishing is spectacular on these uninhabited islands, so waiting wasn’t an issue, especially if you like BBQ’d lobster.

Eventually Herb announced a brief window that may be long enough and advised everyone to tune in at 1700 the following day for confirmation on the window. We up anchored and sailed overnight to Bonaire. We cleared in with the police 1st thing in the morning and started a last minute provisioning as we knew there was very little to be purchased in Isla Pinos, San Blas Is. That evening Herb predicted a 3 day window followed by a return to reinforced trades. We immediately hopped in the dinghy to checkout. Arriving at the police station the officer studied our passports and asked “Did we do something to upset you? You only arrived today.” No we laughed and explained the situation, “Well, “ he said “come back when you can stay longer.” He smiled. Nice folks there. We left that night, the wind was doen to 20 – 25 kts but the seas weren’t really laying down from the higher winds previously. All went pretty well until we started closing the Colombian coast, Thalia was heavily reefed and sailing wing on wing and going like hell, it’s a point of sail she’s always liked. Weird boat. There’s a capet on the coast not far east of Cartagena that always has bigger waves and higher winds than everywhere else, just look at the pilot charts. That night things picked up and at 0300 with Ulla sleeping, Thalia buttoned up tight and me in the cockpit wearing foulies and a harness clipped to the backstay, I was watching our Navico wheelpilot struggle to hold the course and thinking “Damn, I’m going to have to hand steer.” I’d pretty much convinced myself that I had to do it, despite the fact that I hate to hand steer. It was a completely overcast night so I never saw the wave, just heard the roar and felt Thalia get picked up and assume an unlikely bow down attitude, we raced down the face of the wave and, I guess, dug in the bow, the wave broke over us and over we went, port side down. I was too busy doing the backstroke in a completely filled cockpit and trying desperately to ensure I was on the right side of the lifelines when she came back up, to examine the mast to sea relationship, but I’m pretty sure the mast went in. Thalia was up in a flash, God bless her, and sailing with no apparent damage to sails, boom, mast or rigging. It felt like it took forever for the cockpit to drain, it’s weird standing lower thigh deep in water while hand steering. A couple of hours later Ulla opened the cockpit slide and asked “Why didn’t you wake me? Why are you hand steering, you hate that and why are you wet?” “ “We got knocked down.” I explained. “No way, I would’ve woken up” she exclaimed. I mutely pointed to the port side mounted man overboard pole, which was bent at the same angle as the pushpit rails, straight back and horizontal. Her eyes got larger and rounder. “You were on the low side when we went down, you only snuggled into the backrest cushions, if you’d been on the starboard side I don’t know how the lee cloths would’ve worked, never been knocked down before” I explained. “ Are you ready for some coffee?” She enquired quietly. You gotta love the woman. “Sure, but 1st please run the bilge pump in the manual position, in case the float switch stuck?” I asked. “All is dry, bilge and interior.” She replied.

Things had calmed considerably by this time and we figured it was time to reengage the autopilot, the behind wheel mounted belt immediately broke. ‘What now?” she reasonably asked . “Well, the wheel has to come off, so we can fit the spare belt, it’s too small to fit over the wheel.” I explained, less than reasonably. “How do we steer?” A completely understandable question on her part. “We’ll clamp 2 pairs of vicegrips to the shaft so you can steer while I stick on the belt.” Again less than reasonable was my reply. “Oh no, I won’t do that” Now she was sounding less reasonable. “Wait, I’ll get the tools we need,” which happened to include a gear puller to get the wheel off. I hooked up the vicegrips so she could get used to them. “Hey, I like this better than the wheel.” Back to reasonable. I’ll keep that in mind.” I said, struggling to hook the gear puller up to a moving target. Anyway we persevered, the autopilot did its usual job, significantly better than its captain and we headed below for a hot breakfast.

Our arrival at isla Pinos was undramatic and eventually we found our friends in the swimming pool in the Hollandes group, but was 2 ½ wks before we saw another boat in the islands. I’ve returned to the San Blas Is many times between ’97 and ’07, it’s a spectacularly beautiful cruising ground, which undoubtedly explained its current popularity. I’m sort of heading that way now (1/2 way down the W coast of Costa Rica) I’m looking forward to it, but I know I’ll miss the sense of isolation that I’d always enjoyed in the late ‘90s.

“if I’m lyin’…”