A Sail of Two Idiots (48 page)

One of the dinghy davit block shackles fell apart (steel doesn't do well in salt air), but we had a spare shackle.

The steering wheel started squeaking, but it was nothing that a little WD-40 couldn't fix.

On the day we were supposed to go back to St. Kitts, one of the engines wouldn't start. Michael quickly traced it to a loose wire to the starter motor and we were off. During our sail, the same wire came loose again and caused an engine fire. Flames and everything. It was tempting to just let the boat burn.

Air got into the other engine fuel line and had to be hand-pumped out.

M
y instincts were right on (LESSON 23, Trust your instincts). The seas were really ugly the next day, so I'm glad we left Barbuda when we did. Once anchored in rolling White House Bay off St. Kitts, unpacking the boat was not fun. We got seasick and had a hard time dinghying to shore in the high, choppy seas. Off, we wanted off!

In keeping with the mood, Michael received an e-mail from the developer. Yes, they were still interested, but they would have to advertise the position in the local paper for three weeks. Not only did that extend the wait almost another month (it was now mid-March), but someone else might get the job. Uh-oh.

We were getting worried but weren't sure where to channel that concern. We tried to network with people by joining groups cleaning up beaches and hashing/hiking, and we researched jobs on Puerto Rico and Turks and Caicos, just in case.

Our 90-day visas came due again, which meant we had to sail to another country and back, so we decided to head the 80 miles to Marigot, St. Martin. More boat parts, more food, and a visit to the silent boat broker.

Bring stuff back on boat, turn on freezer …

Sea and wind conditions were shaping up nicely. It was calm and the winds were behind us. We could have had the perfect sail. Instead, we thought we'd gain a little more speed by putting out our spinnaker. Greed is
not
good. We should have just left things as they were.

We had just gotten the spinnaker hoisted when the winds shot to over 30 knots and shifted. The spinnaker went flying around the genny furler and became twisted on the forestay and furler. I tried spinning the boat in one direction to undo it and then the other. That didn't work. Michael tried to shimmy up the furler and see if he could untangle the spinnaker from there, but he was tossed around by the waves—plus the spinnaker was wound tightly. Both of us were seasick from the waves sideswiping us.

I decided to take us into the cut between St. Kitts and Statia in hopes we'd find relief from the chaotic seas and wind. Because the spinnaker was wrapped around
the furler, we couldn't put out the genny to gain speed. That meant just the mainsail and our engines going directly into the increasing waves and winds. It took forever!

Once we were in the cut, the winds finally died down to 5 knots and we got out of the waves. We anchored the boat and I hauled Michael up the mast to see what he could untangle. He got up there and realized he needed a wrench. Back down again. Wrench in hand, up he went. He had gotten the spinnaker halyard undone (one of many tangled ropes) and had just started on the sock (the bag that holds and lets out the spinnaker) when the winds changed to the south and hit us head-on at over 20 knots.

Michael was straddling both the mast and the genoa furler and had to hang on for dear life. He did what he could, but we realized that we would have to get into a more protected area. So down came Mikey, up came the anchor, and closer to the beach we went. This seemed to work, so we decided to let the boat drift instead of anchoring it, thinking we could unwrap the sail quickly. We immediately started running the spinnaker around and around the furler, passing it off to each other like the ribbons on a mayflower pole.

The winds shifted again. As we were freeing the sail, it caught more wind and was flapping all over the place while still being wrapped tightly in the middle. Needless to say, it started to tear. We still weren't in a protected enough spot.

I moved
Jacumba
and anchored again (as close to shore as I dared). Michael was on one side of the sail and I was on the other, and we handed sails and lines around, over, below, above—whatever it would take to get the stubborn sail untangled.

Despite facing into the wind, the spinnaker kept filling, and it took all our strength not to get picked up and thrown off the boat while wrangling with the stupid thing, and not get blinded, knocked unconscious, or beheaded by the flopping ropes. We finally got the sail down but realized that the sock was becoming a permanent feature high up on the furler. So I hauled monkey Michael up again, but while he was aloft, those infernal wind gusts hit again. Son of a … !

Although the spinnaker was fully unraveled and lying on the trampoline, it was still tied to the stuck sock above and became a parachute. I had to hurriedly let Michael down so we could shove the spinnaker into our anchor locker, where I hoped it would rot (I never wanted to see that thing again).

Okay, back up. We were both exhausted. The sock was stuck so badly that we decided to just cut it off, except that Michael—aloft again—didn't have his knife. Back down. Once up again, he finally cut the sock loose. Incredibly, it fell on my head on the way down—OUCH! Michael was lucky that I didn't let go of the line I was holding. You know, the line that was keeping him up there? What do you think? Radar reflector revenge?

The entire ordeal of spinnaker and fouled spinnaker sock took five hours. Boy were we crabby. That meant a change of plan. Hello, Statia! Once checked into Statia, we could have used that stamp to come back to St. Kitts and call it a day, but we now had even more boat things to fix, so we
had
to go to St. Martin. We overnighted off of Statia and tried to put the tiring day behind us.

Luckily (for
Jacumba
), we had a great 50-mile sail to St. Martin the next day, perfectly happy to be using only our usual two sails. What really made our day, though, was running into Jim and Wendy from
Merengue
(their little 27-foot mono-hull) in the harbor upon our arrival. We hadn't seen them since we left Grenada seven months before. We toasted Easter with gin and tonics and held a very competitive Mexican Train Dominoes tournament that resulted in me “winning” a loser's cap—an old drogue (a funnel-shaped parachute that drags behind a boat during a storm to help stabilize the boat and/or act like a brake; it looks just like a dunce cap). Sulk.

Holiday over, we shopped till we dropped. Having seen the prices for goods on St. Kitts, we bought everything we thought we'd ever need. Even if we sailed off to Puerto Rico or possibly Turks and Caicos, at least we would be well stocked. You name it and we bought it, from food to bathroom supplies, from fake (soy) meat to boat parts. Of course we bought and ate lots of French bread and cheese, but that wouldn't last long. We definitely made the trip worth it.

Our return sail was wet and wild but fun. The winds and waves were high but at a good angle off our beam, so
Jacumba
kept moving. Waves were coming off our bow so consistently that we wore our rain gear the whole time. Also, the plastic wind/rain screen shielding the helm was continuously covered in salt water, so I had to keep sticking my head out to the side and hope I had good timing to avoid getting doused.

All we had to do now was check back into St. Kitts and unload. And wait.

W
e didn't have to wait for long, because guess what? As soon as we got back, Michael was offered the job with the developer! After waiting almost five months, he finally got word that the job was his. He received the call on a Friday and they wanted him to start on Monday. Wow! Wow! Wow!

The best part of Michael's job as landscape project manager, besides the salary and the relief, was the car that came with it. Finally, we had wheels! Michael also received a computer and a Blackberry. Talk about Mr. Professional.

At the risk of sounding like a
girl
… what was Michael going to wear? He'd need some work clothes. Considering the limited shopping on St. Kitts, Michael lucked out with a store downtown, even finding a pair of work boots. He was all set to go.

Despite the new job and income, we decided to move back on board
Jacumba
. It would be easier to maintain her, and we'd be able to save some money by not paying two “rents.”