The Home stretch

     The last 48 hours of the crossing were probably the hardest and most terrifying of the whole trip. The last two days seemed to last forever, probably because so much happened. The wind was relentless and blew over 40k. So much for ‘ fair winds and following seas’! We spent most of the last two days overpowered and surfing down step braking waves. 

Surfing' frothy waves  

      Because the rolling mechanism on our fore sail was broken there was no way to take in the sail. We were stuck with it out in full power. This caused us to heel over so far that the boom often splashed in the water. Under normal circumstances we would never have left that sail out because it is much too power to have out in strong winds.

     The hardest part though was the massive waves! As the days progressed the waves only built up higher and higher. I felt like I was starring down two story houses when I saw the big waves approaching from the stern. By the last night it was nearly impossible to steer. Darvil was the only person with enough strength to steer. Dad would relive him for 15 minutes so he could get a drink and go to the bathroom, and then he was back on. When the waves finally settled down early the next morning Darvil’s arms were like mush. Waves were constantly crashing over the front of the boat. At some point in the night a rope was washed over the side of the boat and wrapped itself around the propeller, so we had no motor.

     By about 2:00am we could see the lights of land, and by 5:00am we made our final jibe to try and make the harbour entrance. This was not going to be a normal arrival. We had two major problems. 1. There was no way to take down our fore sail 2. We had to motor.

Here was the game plan. To get the boat into the lee of the island so there would be no wind. Then we would take down the sail and finally Darvil would dive under the boat to cut the ropes loose from the propeller. Easier said than done …  

     With the wind direction and our “disabled” boat we could not make the opening of the harbour so we simply had to veer off. We knew of a huge rock called ‘Diamond Rock’ about a mile off shore and we headed a course for it hoping there would be a lee on one side of the rock. As we got behind the rock there was a reverse current that started to suck us in. Lets just say I we examined Diamond rock MUCH more closely we wanted to. That was terrifying. We realized that because it was so windy there was simply not going to be a leeward side of the island today. Dad called on the VFH for a tow boat. Meanwhile Darv was able to jump into the water and unravel the ropes from the propeller. Now we had an engine again. When the tow boat arrived there was no way to tow us when we had a big powerful sail out. It had to come down somehow. 

Diamond rock. This time from a safe distance. 

The tow boat that didn't tow us. Yet still gave us a hefty bill  

Trying to bring the sail down 

     We attempted to take it down several different ways but nothing would work, as the wind was too powerful. The sail was violently flapping and making a noise that sounded like thunder. I thought the entire bowsprit of the boat was going to come flying off.

     Darv eventually had to climb to the top of our 55-foot mast. We had a topping lift and a second rope attached to him for safety. Keep in mind the sail was still flapping and the boat was leaning hard from side to side. Darvil jumped from the mast to the stay and with a knife strapped to his hand and he ripped the sail as he slid down. He was the Hero of the day. We lost of sail, but all we cared about was the safety of the family.

up up up. 55feet. He had a toping lift on as a safety hardness 

My brave man! 

     Before Darv went up the mast he said “Em you better get this on video, I’m never doing this again”. So I have part of it on video, but unfortunately my hands we shaking harder than I thought so half the time the camera isn’t pointed on Darvil. But HERE is a link anyways (around minute 1:54).

Safe and sound