Lowering my chin, I breathed heavily into my Musto jacket collar to warm my nose with steam. Standing several feet from the bow, I stood one hand tucked in my pocket, the other holding a pair of bulky black binoculars as I squinted my eyes to look for fishing buoys. The boat plunged into a wave and I held on as a large splash of sea water, like a timed fountain show, shot straight up into the sky and back down near my feet. Maybe I'll back up a bit, I wisely decided taking a few quick steps back just before another splash descended on the decks. The sun was beginning to set as we headed out of Plymouth and the floating fluorescent fishing balls were becoming more difficult to see. Our eldest crew member, a jolly old fella in his late 60's, had been the one to point out the last one just in time to avoid it. Not to be outdone by my elderly partner, I thought it best to go ahead and take the precautions to avoid the next one. The evening air was a bitter bite, two small patches on my cheeks burning a little from the cold wind. I rubbed my hands together, finally walking back to the cockpit after the sun had set. My eyes would be no use in the dark and we had ventured out far enough now to not need to worry so much about dragging a fishing line. My watch partner and I moved around chatting, pacing, swaying back and forth, shifting from foot to foot to keep warm, hands shoved in pockets wearing several layers of clothing that stiffened our movements in a funny Gumby-like manner. We are definitely not in the Caribbean anymore, I thought.
The crew of 6 guys and myself had just spent the last few days in Plymouth after a few weeks prior at sea. The beginning of this leg began in St. Maarten the end of April and lasted for 10 days. It was a bit of a rough ride that first week with waves crashing hard over the bow from two opposing swells and 30 knot winds banging us abruptly into them. One of our crew had also become quite ill and feverish and I imagine he wasn't enjoying himself so much. Thankfully the crew pitched in to take care of him. Many of those nights I'd stumble to the salon from my demon possessed bunk that seemed hell bent on furiously ejecting me. I'd sleep on the couch where the middle of the boat wasn't so dramatically effected. After a few days of the rough weather and sleepless nights the winds finally died down a bit and the ride became smoother, the evenings cooler, and our crew a little less haggard with a decent nights' sleep. Our stewardess had taken off to see family for the trip so it was just the guys and myself. I must admit I had begrudged the idea at first of being surrounded by all the testosterone and sure I would be pulling my hair out within a week's time but I couldn't have been more wrong. They were great, very helpful, and when we needed it we all gave each other space. There's something to be said about going through crappy weather together in the middle of nowhere and I am sure my fellow seafarers can agree. As much as you could strangle each other at times, it bonds you as well in its odd misery. There are nights on end where you just can't sleep due to the waves and you are each miserably tired and ready for it to be over, your patience hanging on by a thread. The one night you finally get some rest it is like Christmas! Everyone is friendly, eating a bunch of snacks again, listening to music, having positive conversations about future plans. You can finally take a shower without having to wager whether banging into the wall while getting knocked by a wave naked in an unsteady stream of water is worth smelling fresh. All is right with the world again and beautiful sunrises and sunsets are photographed. Soon enough, 10 days flew by and we reached the Azores.
The Azores is a group of Portuguese island once known for its whaling industry and a popular midway stop between continents for yachts. On our arrival there was a huge surge in the bay with howling winds and dark skies. We tied off in perfect timing as our fenders groaned in a rubbery protest to the concrete docks in the Horta marina. A heavy gust of wind blew the cold rain in sheets as our local agent Duncan, a dead ringer for Uncle Ben, complete with yellow rain gear and sporting a thick grey beard, welcomed us with a big smile.
"Heeeyyyy!!! Welcome to the beautiful Azores!" he laughed, spreading his arms out wide as though presenting a paradise of complete opposite weather. Shaking hands with the boys and handing out beers as we tied up, we couldn't help but be giddy and appreciative for his hospitality. It would be nice to be on solid ground for a few days. Bad weather or not, the Azores, like any first stop after being at sea, was a welcome site.
Our first night in town we obeyed the ritual of sailors gone before and got drunk at Peter Sport Cafe, an old cozy pub with a small whale bone museum in the back. A room full of strangers became a room full of long lost friends singing and drinking into the night as the wind and rain howled outside. We ate plates of delicious blood sausage and some of the best local cheeses I have tasted in my life. No surprise, considering that the Azores are well known for their fantastic grazing land and cattle. After too much indulgence, we stumbled back to the safety of the boat for a long night of sleep. On the weekend we rented a car and drove around the island to explore the countryside, volcano, and grab some lunch at a local cafe. Blustery and chilly, we ran from site to site with cameras in hand, the wind strong and dusty. Although the island was fairly a ghost town aside from the inhabitants of the boats in the marina and the occasional leery local, it was a lovely place to take a nice walk or explore by car. After our reprieve from the Atlantic crossing, we were ready after a few days to return to the open water.
On our 6 day journey to Plymouth was when I think we began to feel the burn. It has been a long couple months of non-stop work beforehand and with the addition of the crossing, everyone was tired and ready to get to shore. Short questions on watch with your partner and long gazes out at sea with a warm cup of tea or coffee in hand. "Do you want me to fill in the log book?" "Coffee?" was about the extent of conversation at that point. You've talked everything out by now and you're tired. Not to mention we had just done a crossing coming from Europe just a couple months prior. As my captain rightly put it, "For the last 3 months all we've done is move this boat from city to city. I can't wait to walk around a place I know I will be able to get to know for longer than a week." I couldn't have said it better myself. Soon enough...
After 10 days' stop in England between the beautiful historic towns of Plymouth and Portsmouth visiting crew family and friends, we made our way to The Netherlands. I loaded up on Cornish pasties, English sausage rolls, and hot water bottles for the freezing cold air of the North Sea and for a last minute bit of nostalgia for my English crew mates. Thankfully it was only a 24 hour trip and the boys did all the evening watches (bless their hearts) so it wasn't so bad!
I was so very grateful to wake up the next day and be land based again for a good chunk of time. We were finally in a shipyard in Holland where our journey of the last year would make a 5 month stop. A couple weeks of hard work in wrapping up the boat, putting all the interior and many exterior items in storage, removing sails and masts, and moving into an actual house kept us pretty busy while the beautiful bike trails and many attractions of Amsterdam kept us entertained. Having a nice dinner in a spacious and cozy house with a yard and decent size kitchen was a perfect way to end the season with my crew mates.
I am sitting now in my apartment back in Oregon and marveling as I read back at all that has happened this last year between Spain and now here. One of my favorite crew mates has resigned, new crew have now joined our rotations, and I get to take the next 4 months to explore a new phase off the boat. After all this travel and exciting experiences I have been so blessed to enjoy, I cannot help but be grateful for the time I have been given to rest as well and to reflect on this last year. I take some time off this next month to enjoy being home and catch up with friends. My writing internship begins with Elephant Journal, thus, hopefully, ushering in a new phase of work in my life. I get to ENJOY the amazing hikes around the NW, pet people's dogs, hug friends' children, hug my friends, and not set my alarm for a watch. Ahhhhhhh…I made it. And life is grand.
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