A Tale of Two Chemists: The Importance of Preparation

The Importance of Preparation

Monday Jan. 8, 2024

Hoping to make an early start today, we had secured the dinghy on the foredeck. Other preparation steps were to install the inner forestay and hank on and tie down the staysail. We also made sandwiches for lunch, and gathered together some snacks. The weather forecast was suggesting winds of 12-18 knots with gusts to 22. Thinking that the sail to Guadeloupe was likely to be a bit lively, we both applied a scopolamine patch at bedtime.

Mike was up and heating coffee before 5:30 am. I reluctantly dragged myself out of bed and got dressed. As we were drinking our coffee, we could see through the windows that it was getting light. We postponed breakfast and started the engine. We were motoring out of Jolly Harbor at 6:25 am and thirty minutes later, with the fridge cycle complete, we were sailing south to Guadeloupe. Initially conditions seemed quite benign with 13-16 knots of wind on the beam. As the day progressed, the winds increased to 16-20 knots and the swells were building, probably in the 5-6 foot range. First we rolled in some of the genoa, then we threw a reef in the mainsail. Even with the reduced sail area we were zipping along at over 7 knots, and there was quite a lot of spray reaching the cockpit. Despite the significant swell, we were both feeling fine while topside. In fact, I didn’t feel unwell while below—just a lot of rock and roll. Those patches were doing their job!

Once we got beyond the “shallows” that surround Antigua, we started to fish with both the rod and a hand line (aka, clothesline). When we reached the ten-mile point (that is 10 miles left to Guadeloupe), I sang for Mike a version of a reggae song “No Fishes—Big cry”! Shortly thereafter, the line started to scream off the fishing rod. Mike jumped up to reel in the fish, however, our boat speed of over 7 knots was making for serious difficulties. We furled the genoa to slow the boat. Very little reduction in speed was achieved. Letting the mainsail out also wasn’t slowing the boat enough. Eventually, we had to turn more eastward, into the wind, to reduce our speed to about 3 knots. Once the boats slowed down, the swell seemed much more noticeable. Mike continued pulling in line. Once he could see the fish he sent me below for the fish card and book. What we had caught was most likely a white marlin (which can get to 180 lbs). We estimate this one was about 4-5 feet long, but not sure how heavy it was. Our trusty fish book suggested that it was no good for eating. Thus, we pulled the fish close to the stern to attempt to remove the hook. As luck would have it, the marlin didn’t seem to be properly hooked. It was almost as if the hook and leader had created a noose around it’s bill. Thankfully, as we tried to haul it closer to the boat, it dropped off and swam away, leaving the lure, hook and leader intact. A successful “catch and release” in our estimation.

Once inside the harbor of Deshaies, a small powerboat with two men on board (one was probably the harbor master) came out and helped us secure our lines to the mooring. We will spend two nights on the mooring and then decide if we want to anchor. After getting the boat squared away – mooring lines, sail cover, stay sail put away and dinghy launched—we went to shore to check in. We walked up the hill to the Customs building. It was closed. The internet suggested that it would re-open at 4pm so we returned to town. We realized that Le Pelican, a local store with check-in facilities, had re-opened after an extended lunch break. We went in to find that their customs computer was not working. The patisserie beckoned. After a croissant and coffee, we walked up to the Customs building again. No joy! We will try again in the morning. As I write, I can hear the yellow quarantine flag fluttering in the breeze.