Our final episode of the 2015 Gulf Crossing Trilogy. Warning, this post is more image intensive than the prior two. A picture is worth a thousand words right? Well, if that’s the case then this post should read like War and Peace. Just kidding, I’m not that eloquent, nor do I have the patience to write such a large dissertation.
If you haven’t read Part One read it here. Or Part Two here.
When we last left you we had just officially made it into the Gulf of Mexico on our crossing. Our first night, and most of the nights for the remainder of the crossing were fairly uneventful. Actually, if you were to look at all of the events that transpired from the time we left Florida Bay, entered into the Gulf and made landfall in Texas, there would be more downtime than excitement. Which, if you ask the crew (myself included) we would all probably tell you we were ok with that. An uneventful crossing is a good crossing. Although I do wish there would have been more wind. I had never seen the Gulf of Mexico so calm.
We were treated to some pretty spectacular sunrises and sunsets.
However, the lack of wind meant that one, we had to motor sail, and two, it was hot. During the day the lack of wind made it uncomfortable at times and the occasional breeze was a treat. It was a challenge to fight the urge to fire up the other engine (we only ran one at a time) and increase the throttle to get out of the doldrums faster or get somewhere faster. I’m thankful that we had the side curtains for the Bimini, even though not all of them fit properly, we made them work. The shade made a world of difference in the cockpit. KCCO Ben, Chive on.
We had stocked up before we left Fort Lauderdale. Our provisions seemed like a lot but with four adult men on an eight day crossing the expectation was that we will eat pretty good. And did we eat good. I think I only ended up cooking one night out of the crossing. Not because I was the captain but I think making dinner became something that everyone looked forward to. If for nothing else than to give our minds something to focus on. While Admiral Michelle had planned out a full menu for the week and the associated provisioning list (that everyone was pretty impressed with I might add) we made a few adjustments here and there. We didn’t gorge ourselves but we did eat well.
Wednesday night we had an unexpected visitor. I was on watch with Bill and something white and large came in low across our stern then disappeared. I was thinking maybe a seagull or pelican but it wasn’t long and he landed on our boom. While trying to get a good look at him we spooked him and he jumped down to the port rail where we could get a good look and see what he was. A great egret. This far out…pretty odd. Or maybe not, I’m not entirely sure of the great egret’s migratory patterns and whether or not they frequent the deeper parts of the gulf.
Our new friend decided to stay for a few days, and we named him Freddy. We speculated that maybe he was a Texas bird and caught the wrong boat and ended up in Florida. Or perhaps was a Florida bird and once he realized that we were headed to Texas decided, “Crap, damn Texas boat….I had better find another ride back to the sunshine state.” Either way, he disappeared before we made landfall. But not before he amused us for days wandering around (I’ll add, crapping on) deck and at one point deciding that it was cooler and had better shade in the salon, on top of the paper chart I had laid out on the salon table. This is when he was relocated outside and also I believe the point at which he got pissed off and left.
Wednesday I also rigged up our fishing gear in anticipation of having some fresh fish. The seas had built a bit and made trolling a challenge and by the time we had the lure in the water it was already almost dinner time so after a brief bit of trolling I reeled in and decided to wait until morning.
Did I mention that we had some pretty spectacular sunsets and sunrises on this crossing?
First thing Friday morning I put out the fishing line. I wanted fresh fish for lunch. I knew the mahi were running and had hoped that tuna would be too. Knowing both like reddish/white/silver the first lure I tried was a pink/white/silver tuna rig. I got the line out, set the drag and had barely finished a cup of coffee before the action started. After having a few disappointing false alarms yesterday (sargasso weed) today’s “zzziiiinng” of the reel was a distinct difference and I knew we had something. Of course, I had the line almost all the way out so I had a fight ahead of me. As it got about 50 or 60 meters off the stern I could see it was a mahi.
By the time I got it into the boat I realized that my arm was dead, shot, exhausted and the fish was of decent size. Pro-tip….mahis like to fight. With a bit of French Caribbean rum through its gills and me paying my respects and thanking it for giving its life for our meal I dispatched it and kept just enough to feed the four of us and returned the rest to the sea.
Even just keeping enough for the four of us, my eyes were bigger than our stomachs. Don’t be fooled by the picture below. We were all stuffed by the time dinner was done.
Not a lot happened on Saturday and even most of Sunday. Plenty of time to take care of odds and ends around the boat, get caught up on sleep, reading, and keeping Bill’s favorite music blaring. Lots of time to contemplate our lot in life. Not to mention that the irony of Ben’s shirt was not lost to us.
It wasn’t until Sunday evening that we were visited by a large pod of dolphins. We had seen dolphins here and there on this trip but never a pod this large. Nor a pod that stuck with us for so long. They played at our bows for the better part of half an hour before going off on their merry way. I know that everyone has probably seen this before and all of our cruising friends have experienced it before but I can’t stress that this is a magical experience. These are truly majestic creatures and they move through the water with such strength and grace. It really is an awesome experience to behold. You can see them darting back and forth, jumping out of the water just inches from the boat, and hear their chatter echoing through the hulls.
Once they were gone we all just took a moment to remember what we had just seen and watch yet another gorgeous sunset on our heading of 260 magnetic.
By now we were well past half way. We had struggles with the water maker, and struggles with maintaining a decent point of sail to keep our momentum up while still keeping the sails from flogging and I think the crew was about ready to get home. At one point I thought how much I was enjoying the trip and we were within a day or two of making landfall. I didn’t want it to end. I just wanted to keep sailing. I’m truly most comfortable out in the open ocean. Shortly before it was my time to come on watch Monday night/Tuesday morning I was in the head taking care of business. I felt a smack on my head and immediately thought it was one of the guys reaching down through the hatch and smacking my bald head. About the time I had to finish that thought I heard a “brbrrbrrrbrbrrbrrr” in the plastic basket stuck to the wall of the port head. That’s when I realized that I had just been suicide bombed by a flying fish. He had made it over the lifelines, bounced off the side of the coach roof and dropped on my head…in the head. I had to take a pic because I knew no one would believe me if I told them what had happened. So I snapped a quick one with my phone, scooped him up and made my way up on deck to toss him overboard. But not before he jumped out of my hands in the salon and had to be rescued there too.
I think it was at that point when I finally figured out why we didn’t get more wildlife on deck during our night watches. You could hear the flying fish bouncing off the hulls. You could see the schools/flocks of them when there was light out. But why didn’t we get as many on deck overnight as I’ve heard other cruisers get? It’s the netting. The lifeline netting that the previous owner installed (and that we are keeping) prevents most of the critters from landing on deck. That has to be it.
Tuesday was landfall day. At about 16 miles out we were in the approach fairway to Port Aransas. I couldn’t believe the number of tankers sitting at anchor outside of the fairway. Based on their waterlines the are just waiting their turn to come in and load up I guess. It has been many, MANY years since I had come into Port Aransas from the gulf. It was so different from what I remembered. Kind of anti-climatic of sorts. I had a tinge of sadness that it was almost over but at the same time I shared my crew’s excitement for making it. One of the sights I was looking forward to was seeing the island’s ferry’s from the water. Over recent years I had only seen them from being a passenger.
I don’t know that I will ever be able to say thank you enough to my crew. Who, being inexperienced as sailing crew, said “yes” we’ll come and help you move your boat from Florida to Texas. Even though none of the three had ever spent an overnight on a 38′ catamaran, offshore, in the Gulf of Mexico. All three were absolutely awesome and yes, I will call each of you out here: Ben, my good friend the lawyer from Seattle via California, who quit his job with his wife and two boys and is traveling the country in their RV. In many ways our honest inspiration for this crazy journey we’re beginning. Bill, my good friend the neighbor from McKinney who put up with us living next door for many years. “We have beer” helped ease the transition to us moving in with our rowdy kids. He was also the “Mr. Wilson” to my son playing the “Dennis the Menace” for those many years. Glad to know your private parts have recovered from the punches that he gave you. Dale, my new friend, also from Seattle who is Bill’s brother and offered to join us having never met met me and made the trip on Bill’s “It’ll be fun” convincing. I can’t just thank the crew without thanking the crew’s wives who all (probably including my own) purchased additional life insurance policies when they heard what we were going to do. Thank you Tiffany, Heidi, and Faris for the use of your husbands for a week (or so).
A crossing such as this wouldn’t be complete without someone kissing the ground upon arrival. So here, I give you Ben, kissing the dock even before the docklines were secured. 🙂
And of course the after shot of the captain and his crew. Thanks again guys! You rock!
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