27-29 FEBRUARY 2024 CAYE CAULKER – ISLA MUJERES 245NM
The day before any reasonable passage I spend time cooking pasta based, easy to eat meals, in this case chorizo, veg in a tomato sauce dished into 4 containers, a couple of meals each. Half a dozen hard boiled eggs, already shelled, make for fast energy grabs. I’ve a sweet tooth, so cakes, biscuits and chocolate passage “food” out numbers the savoury supplies! Decent yoghurts, the naughty but nice ones, thick greek & fruit combos are such a morale booster during the long night hours. Imagine…. It’s a cloudy night with no moon, dark as pitch, no stars to lift you, its 2am, hours till daylight, you’re so tired. If it’s a good passage, you could even be a bit bored. “Fancy a fruity yoghurt?” “Ooh, that’d be lovely, yes please!” Just the sight of the little pot and spoon appearing from the hatch brings a lift to your spirit. You make it last as long as you can, the dessert tastes divine, your sense are heightened on a passage, however if you’re Terry, the creamy sweetness lasts 10 seconds….
Every passage is unique. I get twitchy before every overnight passage. The build up to it, nervous tum, we’re snappy with each other. We prepare well, poring over forecasts daily, check gear, layout clothes we’ll need, get lifejackets & safety harnesses to hand, secure cupboards, try to minimise rattles, anything that can knock,clank,ching,bonk will. At night, when you try to get some rest, that unknown “kerlunk” “kerlunk” “kerlunk” somewhere inside the saloon will drive you crazy as you try to identify what the hell it is…we had a regular metallic “chink” “chonk” “chink” “chonk” some time ago whilst on a passage. After a search during the day, we discovered it was the metal weights from the pressure cooker lid which were in the pressure cooker pan in the pan cupboard rolling from side to side in the round metal dish in the pan itself! Drove us near mad.
I digress. Back to nerves. Most sailors get nervous, the butterflies make you check and recheck everything, nerves are a good, if a slightly unpleasant sensation. It’s said the hardest part of any voyage is leaving the dock or hauling the anchor. Once that line slips off a mooring, the anchor’s out of the water, or you can’t touch the dock, that’s it. Then we’re ok. We focus, thoughts only on the passage and whatever it brings.
This particular passage, in the company of Lucie & Michel on s/v Moyak, started out at 10am, a very civilised indeed, based on our average speed of 5.5 knots, leaving at this time ensured we arrived in daylight at Isla Mujeres. This time of departure meant we arrived in daylight at Isla Mujeres. Sunshine, blue skies, a gentle 6 knot breeze. We motored through clear, shallow waters over coral reefs, I recall as I’m writing this some weeks later, that we even had a dolphin. This is going to be great, a really good three day passage! The weather was behaving as per the forecast.
Through the day, we really enjoyed ourselves. Moyak and ourselves would radio to update. Were we motoring? What sail had we set? What speed were doing? We keep ourselves well hydrated, re usable water bottles are always to hand. We settled in. By late afternoon we had some pasta, it’s good to fuel up before dusk, at that point we don lifejackets, clip on, if we need to, we reduce sail and put in a reef. I ensure night gear, fleeces, leggings, hats are to hand and night snacks where we can easily get them. It’s a routine which, pardon the pun, anchors us. In the event it was a good job we ate something at that time….
The winds began to build through the night, winds turning more Northerly than predicted and higher. Oh bloody marvelous. It’s a horrible feeling when conditions change rapidly, and they do…it’s a ride you can’t get off, so it’s best to buckle up and deal with it.
Your mind goes in strange places during the night, Terry knows this is not my favourite time. The wind increased and we began to corkscrew and roll. In the darkness these actions appear to intensify as you can’t see any distance around you, had this been day, it wouldn’t have been fun, but the mind wouldn’t be working overtime perceiving what was really happening.
Moyak and ourselves agreed we’d keep 2 to 3 miles of each other. Moyak is a heavy boat, 18 tons compared to our 8.5 tons. Moyak’s progress was far slower, and we were trying to keep her pace. Trying to slow Sisu down became impossible, she was rolling, heaving, pitching, clearly deeply unhappy at being held back. Moyak, behind us, radioed. They could see us rolling, our mast clearly indicating the roll as it swung side to side in the heavy swell. They, by comparison, at 18 tons were ploughing through the sea, relatively stable. We told Michel and Lucie that we would have to break away and keep at our own pace, but would do our best to keep them in sight. Michel & Lucie understood, there was nothing they could do.
By this time the swell was 5 metres and we were getting regular soakings, the night had only just begun….. In those winds, we were racing at 8 knots, looking over the side of Sisu, the black breaking waves looked far worse than had it been daytime, always does.
We put on our wet weather heavy jackets & hats on, gear we normally wear sailing round the Irish Sea!
Later that night, we put our third reef in. This reduces the sail to it’s smallest. Though Terry & I are clipped on, and Terry always clips on when going up to the mast. I always tell him to take care. He usually growls “I bloody do!” For me, it’s a lucky charm, if I tell him each time to take care, then he’ll be safe. We have these little habits! I’m on the helm, turning Sisu into the wind, into the swell, mad as it seems, there’s a feeling of exultation, you feel the power of the sea, adrenalin rushes through both of us. I have to keep Sisu steady so Terry can safely do his job. Having reduced sail, and put in the third reef, the wind battering him, I turn her back on course, Terry crouches low, moving off the coach roof, down the deck, one hand always for the boat, past the sprayhood, into the deep safety of the cockpit.
Now we have control, the conditions are still very unpleasant, her speed’s come down, yet we are still faster than Moyak. We watch as in between the troughs of each wave, Moyak’s mast head light becomes a dot behind us. We maintain radio contact through the long sleepless night.
In the wee small hours, Terry tells me to get some sleep, even with a seasick patch, I feel queasy, we’ve had little to eat, I can’t which doesn’t help the queasiness, Terry’s grabbed an egg. I fitfully doze in the cockpit, everything’s wet with seasalt, our cushions, clothes. Finally, dawn breaks, bringing a psychological lift. One night done, one more to go. We’re tired, the day continues pretty much as the night, pitching into the swell, taking care when we move, loo breaks are a challenge! One hand bracing against the wall, your knees bracing against wherever they can, hauling clothes up and down with your other hand, suddenly being bounced off another bit of the heads, then do your business, and get yourself sorted in reverse! We put it off till we’re desperate!
The second night drew in, it truly wasn’t fun, Terry kept us going, I felt just as sick, but did what I could. We were exhausted. During these times, we never, ever, want to do this again. I recall telling Terry I’ve had enough, more than once. But there’s no place for self pity here. Exhaustion brings out the worst in us, like during childbirth, emotions can veer into extreme. In horrible conditions, a sense of humour can be extinquished like the last bright rays of a sunset into the sea. Darkness, dark thoughts and fear take over, and all three will win if we’re not strong.
We weren’t in any danger, just in lousy conditions and we knew by the end of the following day, this would be over. We radioed Moyak, they were fine, and soon through the day, they came into sight far, far behind us, steadily making her way like a grand lady.
Due to the way above average speed Sisu had attained, we knew we would be arriving at Isla Mujeres in the dark, never a wise move to anchor anywhere, especially an unfamiliar anchorage in the dark, unless you had no choice. Just before dawn of the third day, and tantalisingly close to Isla Mujeres, we hove to, the wind had lessened, and we rolled to and fro as we waited for Moyak.
At 5am we made the final few miles together, utterly drained, wet and hungry, we didn’t care, we were nearly there!
You can see the exhaustion on Terry’s face. His reserves of endurance never cease to amaze.
The high rise hotels lining Cancun on our port side as the sun came up was a welcome sight.
Motoring past the marker buoys where the reefs lay, into the busy anchorage, we found a good spot, dropped our anchor, made sure it had held fast, and bloody well slept!
It took us a couple of days to really recover, and as far the pasta and hard boiled eggs? They made for easy meals washed down with beers watching the sun set. We were in Mexico!
We know that we will face passages like this again, as we have done in previous times. It’s never fun, but these times are the ones which make for good tales.
We have further on to sail yet, we will be sailing up and across the Gulf Stream which requires careful consideration and respect. From Guatemala to Florida we are in waters which are notorious for changeable and fierce conditions. Based on these facts, we may have plenty of tales to write about and share!
sisu journey 