Taming the Beast

I had forgotten what it’s like to soar above the clouds like this. Sitting in a temperature-controlled cabin, relying entirely on a stranger to captain this ship in the sky, I’m free to look out the porthole and peer at the islands passing beneath me. Our planet is exquisite from this vantage point. The clouds and the ocean’s vastness lift me inside, just as this plane lifts me higher into the atmosphere.

More than anything, I’m relishing the coolness. It’s been hot in Antigua. My hands and feet are swollen. My wrists burn with pain, but those sensations are fading fast here, leaving me with a clear head to reflect.

To reiterate, for me, more than you, we bought a boat—a bigger, faster boat than Gerty. For now, we’re calling her Nerty (short for New Gerty). She’s a beastly 2011 Outremer 49. But we’re taming her. She’s going to be a beauty. 

Michael is installing a new watermaker today. Karen called yesterday to say it arrived in time for me to help him transfer it to the boat. Julian delivered it in his pickup truck right to the dock, and we laughed because our new-to-us, too-big OC tender was good for something. The giant crates fit in one trip! When I return from my trip, we won’t have to drain the bilges of brine anymore. Hooray! One fix of many will be done.

Last week I paraded around the cockpit, calling myself the Seize Queen because I unseized all seven door locks and serviced twelve hatches. It wasn’t until I locked myself in the bathroom due to a reinstallation mishap that my swollen head shrunk down to normal size.

But I mustn’t gloat because my projects are smaller and less complicated than Michael’s. Yesterday I took a break from refurbishing the clutches to find him in the galley, reassembling the entire water manifold! I’ve also seen him twist-reaching behind the chart table console into a monstrous tangle of wires, crouched underneath the salon table with his hands disappearing into the circuit breaker’s hiding place, lying on the floor with most of his body inside the port and starboard bilges, crunched inside the chain locker, the farthest reaches of both sail lockers, and stretched like Plastic Man to the tip of the bowsprit.

I know I was assisting him with some of his work (he certainly didn’t climb the mast twice without me), but my memory of these weeks is a blur. At some point, we stopped eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches because Michael fixed the refrigerator, freezer, and oven. Was it before he sawed a hole in the floor to accommodate the new holding tank or after? I’m not sure, but the frequency of trips to the Budget Marine store slowed, and we started reclaiming small lost items—chopsticks, dental floss, and glasses. Still, I wouldn’t say it was fun. I missed our Gerty Girl and our parade of guests.

The boat work goes on and on. When the heat seeps into my joints and threatens to infiltrate my spirit, I coax Michael to stop working and plunge into the Caribbean Sea with me. We tread in the shade between the two hulls, remembering the day we sailed Nerty back from Guadeloupe. The wind instruments need maintenance and repair. So we guessed 10 knots SSW and raised an asymmetrical spinnaker on the 1:1 halyard Michael set up on our newly adjustable bowsprit. I laid face down on the trampoline and watched a pod of enormous dolphins play at our twin bows. At 9 knots SOG (TWS 11-12k), smooth as a frigate, we sailed past the setting sun on our beam. This was fun.

Last remarks

• Thanks to our sailing friends in Antigua—we needed you! Helen & Brian (SV Helacious), Iain & Jacqueline (SV Fatjax), Emmy & Marcus (SV La Linnea), Joe & Nigel (SV Wychcraft), Kel & Graham (SV Reel Riddim)
• Thanks to high quality local businesses in Antigua
  • Julian & Karen from Watermaker Services
  • SignPro
  • Samer Upholstery
  • Jessie the welder