At long last, thirteen days almost to the hour, we saw our first sight of land. WIDAGO has just cruised by the small islands of Isla da Corvo and Flores, as we head to our destination in Horta, just another day away. I would have written last night – but I was very busy sleeping through my watch (Don’t tell Ahab).
Yesterday morning we had continued to fly the parasailor all night, but the winds just never arrived. By 9am we started motoring, with Ahab quite distraught. His frustrations stemmed from the fact that we spent two days motoring north, chasing winds that would carry us all the way into Horta. That just doesn’t work with only 7 kts on your back. In classic bipolar behavior, Ahab’s spirits were rebounding by late afternoon, as we witnessed the winds picking up. The crew scrambled to assemble and redeploy the packed up parasailor. This isn’t as easy as flipping a switch. Sails must be retrieved from lockers, lines rerun, and barber haulers made ready. Each time we put up or take down Big Blue, it’s a thirty minute exercise resulting in Ahab taking another shower.
You can imagine his dismay after a record setting exchange time of only 27 minutes, Mother Nature shot us the double barrel bird, and winds died down again to single digits. Ahab let out a mighty cry that sent birds flying, children taking cover, and may have loosened my new crown. At this point, he slumped deflated at the helm, “I think I’m gunna cry.”
Now, if you had asked me prior to our little sea adventure, who be first in line for the train to Crazy-ville, for sure, hands down, it would have be me. I guess we all have our breaking point, and he was getting close. I encouraged patience, and perhaps some tea (with secretly crushed up Xanax) to smooth the angry beast. Ahab obliged. We let the sails be and found that Ahab’s mental death rattle, had summoned a friendly pod of dolphins, bringing with them just enough wind to make sailing worthwhile.
Crisis averted, I did not have to drug or restrain Ahab. We celebrated our new found wind with a gourmet meal of chopped up hotdogs simmered in Bush’s Brown Sugar Baked Beans (say that one ten times fast!) with a side of anemic celery and the world’s stumpiest carrots. Next Stop: Horta!
Loving your adventure… living through it with you… Safe travels.. Good winds..
Argh. There she blows. Ahabs losing his bananas. I love it. Big hugs. Xoxo
Ahab needs to learn how to better extract the wind from the winnie-beanie meals.
Ok, I’ll buy the cheeseburgers!!!
Have a blast in Horta!!! So glad you have “landed!”