Here we go again

Well the day has come when Mike and I prepare for another crossing. This time from St Croix to Martinique, 286 nm away. We have been in St Croix waiting for a good weather window and wondering if we would ever get one as we shielded ourselves on the west coast from 30-60 knot winds howling across the island. We watched the edge of Tropical Storm Franklin pass to the south of us and felt his residual strength in the form of swell from the SW. Now we wait to see what Tropical Depression Gert has in store for us.

We've waited too long to make our journey south. Will we be trying to dodge one tropical storm after another. Is this our fate?

Regardless, we must leave this beautiful island and see what awaits us. It will take us about 2 full days, maybe a little more, to get to Martinique. It's now or never.

Pre flight:

We moved the boat from Fredricksted on the west coast to Christiansted, which lies approximately mid island on the north coast. It's a fairly large harbor and there are many sailboats either on mooring balls or anchored, so we search for a spot to drop anchor. The first spot Mike chose ended up being in the middle of a cable area, no anchoring allowed. So we pull up the anchor and try again. We find another promising location and drop the hook. But now we are too close to another boat. So again we pull it up and move. Hopefully third time is the charm. Again, we feel like we are too close to our neighbor. Here we go again, find another spot. As I'm looking in the water for a good spot, I see something strange just ahead, but I can't tell what it is. Suddenly I realize exactly what it was. "Sunken boat, REVERSE, REVERSE!!!" Whew that was close. Finally we find a spot and lay down the anchor for the final time, or so I thought.

About an hour after we set the anchor, a big squall came through, with 30 knot winds, dumping a ton of rain. Suddenly I hear an alarm going. What is that? Oh no, it's the anchor alarm. We are dragging and there is a reef directly behind us. We have to act quickly, or we will have another sunken boat. Mike was on the peloton and I had just showered and only had on underwear. There's no time to get dressed. We hustled out, Mike got the engines going and got us away from the reef and I prepared to raise the anchor so we can try to find a better spot. We were both being pelted with large raindrops, that, in this wind, felt like rocks. We decided to wait until the squall passed to drop the anchor again, because Mike was fighting the wind, trying to steer the boat in the right direction. Finally it passed and we found a better location, with better holding.

Mike and I headed in to Christiansted to have dinner with his friend from flight school, Gavin, and his wife Myra. We had a wonderful time and it's so nice knowing we have friends here in the Caribbean. I know we will be back to visit them again.

Shortly after laying down to sleep, I had a terrible revelation. I shouldn't have mixed my alcohols. Oh this was going to be a long night.

Day 1:

As expected I woke with a terrible hangover. Oh how I hope Mother Nature is kind to me today. We left Christiansted around noon, heading east and then southeast after clearing the island. The winds were moderate, around 10 Knots and the seas were light. So far so good. The winds are expected to die down even more over the next couple of days, which will make travel much smoother than our previous journey.

What an amazing day. We weren't able to sail, but it's a beautiful thing to see the ocean all around you flat and glassy. No tilt-a-whirl today.

It's that time again, time for my night watch. Ugh! Needless to say, I was very apprehensive. Thoughts of the last crossing kept going through my mind, terrifying me all over again. But tonight is different. Tonight the water was flat calm, there were no squalls on the horizon and the wind was a mere 2.5 knots. A very different scenario. It was truly a blessing.

The moon was out, but not full, not quite half. It did give some nice light, but there was a haze in the air. It seemed to float just above the water. There were times the water was so calm, I wasn't even sure we were moving. New L'attitude seemed to glide through the water like a swan. It was quiet, almost too quiet. It was eerily peaceful. I was expecting a ghost ship to emerge from the haze at any moment and take us over, transporting us to a dark rhealm, never to be seen again. I don't know, maybe I watch too many scary movies.

The night is a strange beast. It messes with your mind. Shadows dance around on the water, making you think you see things that aren't there. The bright lights from the stars reflect off the glassy water making you think you see another boat close by, too close, and all of the sudden. So you look and you stare at it off in the distance, but it just hypnotizes you, taking your mind further into confusion. I have to look away. I need to get up and move around, clear my mind.

Midnight has come. Mike will take over the watch. He was asleep downstairs so I went to wake him. But he was dead to the world and there was no waking him. Well, I guess I can let the night play with my mind for a few more hours. So I let him sleep, until I could take no more. At 3 am I had to go to bed, and let Mike take over.

Day 2:

It's another beautiful day. Light winds, flat calm seas. Normally the trade winds rip through here at 25 knots, but Tropical Storm Franklin just passed through here and he's created an area of calm behind him. So we will take advantage and get south before the trades kick in again or Tropical Depression Gert does something unfortunate.

Mike and I keep putting lures out hoping to catch a bunch of fish. We've caught a few, only 1 Mahi. Today we heard that zipping sound we've grown to love that indicates a fish on. From the sound of it, it's a big one. As it's spooling out the reel, it jumps out of the water. It's a marlin! Wow, what a beautiful site. Having done a lot of fishing, and catching, in Guam, we both know what it's gonna take to get a marlin in. They're big fighters. Well, we didn't get to find out how big, since it broke the leader and escaped. It was probably for the best, since we would've just let it go anyway, if we would've been able to reel it in, that is.

All in all the day has been wonderful. I would like to sail, but after the last crossing, this has truly been much appreciated. Tonight Mike let me sleep first and take the last part of the night watch. What a difference. He woke me at 3 am, which is ridiculously early, but it was so much better than staying up until 3 am. And I got to watch the sun come up, which is always amazing.

Day 3:

When I woke at 3:00 to take my watch, I saw that we were very close to Martinique. I could see the lights on Dominica and saw the land of Martinique on the horizon. The sunrise was beautiful. The surface of the ocean was glassy and the winds were very light. The most amazing thing, however, was being greeted to the island my a pod of dolphins. With the water as calm and clear as it was,I could easily see them swimming just below the surface at the front of the boat as if guiding us in to our destination. What an absolute blessing. I just wish Mike would've been awake to see it. Next time.