Landfall…
The anticipation is almost palpable. The idea of it underscores every conversation: weather, route, food. The “Distance to Waypoint” countdown on the chart plotter seems to mean more and more as each day passes. 600 miles… 500 miles… 400 miles… At the beginning of the journey, our route and the wind and the sea were all big unknowns. What would we encounter? Now, only a few days away from landfall, I can mostly see what we will encounter. I can envision our route clearly as we approach the chain of islands that make up the Northeastern most edge of the Caribbean.
Even with the anticipation of a journey’s end, today feels hard. I barely slept. With my hatch window closed more regularly with steadier wind and bigger seas, the air feels stale and tight and smells slightly of B.O. My sheets are slightly sticky to the touch from ambient moisture and salt. It feels slightly claustrophobic and the heat doesn’t help - it hangs in the cabin despite my little battery-powered fan’s best efforts to fend it off. The mattress and pillows seem to radiate heat and my skin feels warm to the touch. I tossed and turned for hours last night before my watch, tired but unable to find sleep. It took risking my hatch open, and an ice pack between my feet to achieve a few precious hours. Again, this morning, I lay exhausted and waiting - but it eluded me. At some point, I had to just get up and face the day. Tonight - we’re making use of this catamaran’s upgrades and we’re turning on the A.C.
Last night was somewhat eventful. Our route had taken us into something of a shipping lane between the US and Africa. On my watch, Cargo ships were passing back and forth almost constantly. AIS shares their origin and destination with me so I could spy and see where they’re headed. I tried to hail a few over VHF for a chat but they all ignored me or didn’t hear.
My alertness with nearby traffic was heightened when, around 0430, wind speeds started rising and eventually reaching a steady 29 knots, seemingly out of no where. We’ve been experiencing squalls at night but I hadn’t seen any rain on the radar and none started to fall so it was a bit of a surprise. I felt on edge, the boat running with more sail up than I felt comfortable with for the wind speeds we were experiencing. I set a timer for 10 minutes and decided that if it continued after 10 minutes, I’d wake up crew and we’d reef.
After 5 minutes, the rain started, light but dense.
After 10 minutes, the wind had died back to a slightly more manageable 25.
After 15 minutes it was holding 22 and didn’t come up again for the rest of my watch until I handed things over to the skipper at 0600. When there wasn’t teeth-grinding odometer watching going on, I was pleasantly reading my new Sanderson book freshly downloaded to the kindle.
Bafflingly, at 0700 this morning, the wind died completely and the skipper took the sails down to motor. A few hours of patience and they picked up again carrying us on our way. This is the first time in 1800 miles we’ve had to use the motor for anything other than putting in or shaking out a reef.
Lots of reading today and I decided to make rolls. Ran into a bump about a week ago when the yeast that I bought turned out not to be yeast but instead just baking powder. Should’ve paid more attention! But I made due and found a no-yeast roll recipe. Not the most advanced thing in the world but tastes really good after no bread for the last week or so. They remind me of the rolls from red lobster but without all the fun seasonings. So basically they’ll be gone today.
Running on very little sleep and feeling nauseous from muscle tension, it was a hard start to the day. I feel wrung out and hormones are winding any peripheral feelings of home sickness into a tight knot at the front of my chest.
My mind wanders to clean sheets and Connor and giant crossword puzzles and fresh bread. I yearn, but I don’t feel sad.
I have loved making this journey. And I think when it’s time to go home I will be ready to do so…
…to be continued at some point in the future with my life partner and adventure buddy at my side.
E
P.S. Sorry if you were getting email updates but now you’re not - I ran out of free emails for the month. Resets on Dec 9th. Coincidentally, the same day we’re supposed to touch down on land! Perfect timing:)
Oh gosh! That sounds nerve racking when the speed picks up like that. Glad it changed in time.
We’re wanting you home as much as you want to be here. Probably more. You’re always in our thoughts and in our conversations. Can’t wait to find ways to make you cozy and warm - the opposite is true here. So cold outside!! Be safe my love.
That feeling of staring at the odometer, not being okay with the amount of sail up, and wondering if something needs to be done is really intense. Especially when your sleep is shit. Stay safe, don’t be too eager to reach land, sail conservatively. You’re almost there.
I slept on deck once we hit the tropics. An option?
fine little rolls, they are! How fun that you can see islands now. And how nervous I was, just reading about the wind. Can't imagine living it! I'm so sad that we will miss you as we are leaving Monday, but have so enjoyed reading about your trip, Emma Lou. Having dinner with your folks tonight, I know it will be so yummy and with all we have to do, nice not to cook.
Love
Grandmother and Howl