Becky told me to swim along the surface until I saw one of the lobsters swimming, and then get the net out ahead of them, and force them to swim into the net. I told her that it sounded easy, but I was certain the lobsters were not that easy to catch. She laughed and said, “With two of us working as a team, we should be able to capture one.” It took us almost fifteen minutes to capture one of the creatures, but when we started up the ladder, I realized the lobster wanted to take one of my fingers off if it could get a hold on me. I was very careful not to allow the pinchers to grab anything other than the netting, and then climbed up the ladder. When the lobsters were up on the deck, Becky went down into the cabin and began passing up the camp stove, a frying pan, and a small pot to boil water.
While Becky cooked tonight, I cut one of the pineapples, sliced it into one-inch thick slices, and then quartered the slices. Once I cut the core away, the pieces were easy to handle with the remaining rind still attached. As we sliced the small Abalone and cracked open the lobster, we both seemed to giggle a lot. I looked into Becky’s eyes and said, “I enjoyed the trip to the coast this morning. That was a lot of fun, especially when you took your visitor on a tour. You were so humble and gracious to him, I almost felt jealous for a few moments.” Becky looked at me and said, “Stanley, I never meant to make you feel that way, I am very sorry.” I told Becky that it was not really anything she had said or done, but more how Robert had taken a shine to her accomplishments, her life style, and the Pacifica.
She walked over to me and kissed me hard on the lips. She smiled and said, “Pineapple, your lips taste like pineapple.” I laughed and said, “I will not try to impress strangers with your education or engineering skills in the future. Now that I stand here telling you how I felt this morning, I guess I was more than a little jealous, I was a lot jealous. I apologize for being jealous, because I want you to talk to other people and interact with them. I found myself doing the same thing with June, my ex-wife. I often showed my jealousy towards her and that....” Becky looked at me and said, “What is wrong?” I said, “I did not mean to bring her up to you, I am again sorry.”
As I began cleaning up the supper dishes, Becky asked me where I had met June. I turned to her and said, “I promised myself not to bring her into our lives, but I guess she is still part of my memories, even though she and I cannot stand to be around each other anymore. Someday, I would like you to meet my daughter, Dawn, but as for June; it is best we do not discuss her. I tend to get angry even talking about her.” Becky walked up to me and said, “Maybe you should tell me everything about June and get it out of your system and out into the open. Then you and I will not have to side step speaking her name. I should also tell you that I have spoken to Dawn, and I found her to be very pleasant and understanding of my presence in your life.”
I stood looking at Becky with my mouth hanging open, wondering when and why Becky had talked to my daughter. I finally managed to ask her when she had talked to Dawn, and she said, “When I first began trying to locate you, I called information in New York and asked for your phone number. It was not listed and unavailable to me, but I remembered your daughter’s name was Dawn. The operator had a listing for her, so I called and requested your phone number. When I explained who I was, and that I needed your engineering knowledge, she gave me your home phone number, but refused to give me your cell phone number. I thanked her for the information and then she inquired about when and how you and I had met. I knew you were married so I talked to Dawn to insure that she did not think some impropriety was taking place between us.” I smiled and said, “Dawn would just have questioned me for the truth if she was concerned. We have kept a very open dialogue between us, and we talk often about the people we are dating or seeing. She probably did a Google search on you after the phone call to find out about you, she probably knows more about your life than I do.” Becky just laughed at my observation.
When we woke the following morning, Becky used her porcelain chamber pot instead of doing her business over the side of the vessel. When she came up on deck with me to eat breakfast, she said, “I will not be getting into the water for the next few days, instead I will wash in a pan of water on the deck, and not dispose of the water until we are just about ready to leave on our daily journey. I have started my period and do not wish to announce that fact to all the predatory fish in the ocean until you have bathed, and we are ready to leave this area of the ocean.” I sat down on the deck beside her and asked, “Can a fish actually pick up on that tiny bit of blood?” She smiled and said, “Father always told me that a Great White can detect one drop of blood from a distance of over ten miles away. He probably overstated the truth to cause me some level of fear, but I do not intend to test his words. I can keep us both safe by being careful until my female body has finished protesting my unwillingness to become pregnant.” I laughed at her fancy words, but understood her concern. She obviously had an inborn fear of sharks, and I did not want to hear any stories she had to tell on the subject.
I was comfortable with the sharks, and hoped I understood their predatory ways well enough to prevent an attack. I had spent a lot of time in the North Atlantic a few years ago helping repair a damaged bridge, and the divers had taught me how to keep myself safe and not become shark bait. As I worked to prepare breakfast, I also noticed that Becky was carrying a second knife today. The larger hunting knife that she always wore on her belt and a smaller knife strapped to her ankle. I said nothing about my observations.
After breakfast, I entered the water, and then returned to the deck. As I dried off, Becky raised the anchor, removed the tethers from the main sail and boom and set the sails. Once the Pacifica began moving, she dumped her wash water and the dishwater into the ocean. She carefully washed the pans, but kept a watchful watch for sharks following the boat. Once we came to the edge of the sandbar and entered deep water, she would not even stand on the edge of the deck. After a few miles out at sea, she settled herself and told me that sharks would sometimes follow a vessel and attack as the vessel entered the deep waters along the edge of a sandbar.
She began telling me a story about a shark attack she had witnessed. She said, “I watched a man pulled off a sailboat when a Great White swam up and ....” I spoke loudly to her and said, “I don’t want to hear your horror stories about sharks. You can tell me about the nature of a shark, and how to protect myself, but don’t tell me the graphic details of what haunts your soul. I will hold you in my arms and calm your fears, I will turn on the lights to still your nightmares, I will fight a shark with my knife and bare hands to protect you, I will help you in any way I can to overcome what haunts you, but don’t tell me the horror stories, please. I have seen them with my own eyes, and listened to a diver scream as she was eaten alive; I cannot face anymore reality.”
Becky stepped up to me and wrapped her arms around my neck. She spoke softly and said, “May I tell you what haunts me? I promise not to upset you.” I whispered in her ear, “Yes, you can tell me, I need to know.” She said, “When I was very young, probably around eight or nine years old, Mother took me to visit Father in the hospital. Mother told me that Father had injured his leg at sea, but I did not understand the reality of the situation at my young age. When I entered the hospital room, I realized that Father was missing his right leg from just above the knee. That sight so frightened me, that I wet my pants on the way home in the car. Mother tried to console me and tell me that Father would be okay, but I knew better. Even at that age, I knew that his life at sea as a fisherman would be over; no one would hire a crippled man. Stanley, Father had lost his leg to a Great White Shark, but he did eventually return to the sea. The doctors fit him with an artificial leg that allowed him to return to the sea as a tugboat captain, but he would never again be able to go to sea as a fisherman. As I grew up, he tried to tell me that the shark did only what came natural and he tried to educate me in the ways to protect myself. Stanley, I love the sea, and I will always swim and enjoy the water, but
you will come to understand that I take great care to prevent a shark attack, right up to the point of being paranoid about it. If I become overprotective of you, please discuss it with me, but don’t try to change how I feel, I will only become angry with you. You may soon come to realize that I walk very close to the border between lunacy and sanity when it comes to the predatory animals of the sea.” She released her grip on my neck, kissed me, and returned to resetting the main sail to gather more wind.
When the foresail was set, I went below and pumped out ballast water until Becky said to stop. We wanted the Pacifica to ride high in the water, but remain setting just low enough that the sailing plane and steering/diving rudders remained with two feet of water covering them. I felt the vessel’s speed increase dramatically once we had her trimmed properly. I picked up my hand held GPS and returned to the deck. As the unit found the necessary satellite signals, it showed that we were traveling at around 4.2 knots. At that speed, we would make about one hundred miles in twenty-four hours. I turned off the unit to save its battery power and returned it to the shelf just behind the top of the hatch ladder. The sea was calm today and the waves crested less than two feet high. The wind stayed steady out of the southwest and Becky only infrequently had to adjust the sails to maintain our speed. I brought up two chairs up onto the deck and let the warm ocean breeze blow in my face. When it came lunchtime, I fixed tuna fish sandwiches, warm beer, and the remaining pineapple I had cut yesterday.
As we sat talking, we could see two planes racing towards us only a few hundred feet above the surface. I told Becky to plug her ears as the planes passed. She laughed as she stuck her fingers in her ears. The planes were two military jets in a hurry to get somewhere and they were breaking the sound barrier as they traveled. We saw the pilots waggle their winds as they screamed over the Pacifica. I told Becky they were on their way to save the world from the alien invaders from the planet Demords. She laughed at my comments, but I saw her flinch as the shock waves from the jets supersonic flight rocked the sails of the Pacifica and almost upset my can of beer. That would have pissed me off to no end, since we had only purchased a twenty-four pack of beer that would have to stretch over the month long trip. Becky took her cell phone from her belt pouch and put it to her ear. I wondered who she would be calling, but then heard her say, “Yes, and the next time you pass overhead, please slow down a little, you almost spilled my husband’s beer. Yes, you could drop off another case of Bud Light as you pass over tomorrow, I will put the check in the mail first thing in the morning.” Then she put her cell phone back into its case and stowed it on the shelf beside my GPS. As she sat down, she said, “The pilot was very apologetic and promised to drop us off more beer on this morning run.”
I sat giggling at Becky’s playful nature this morning, and commented that I was not used to ladies that were not ornery when their periods started. She laughed and said, “Mother always told me that hating and blaming the world for my periods only ruined my day, the rest of the world could give a fuck. Then Mother would make hot chocolate and put a smile back on my face. I have learned to deal with what is controllable in my life, and not worry about the things that are beyond my ability to change. Besides, if I treat my husband badly, he will stop talking to me, and that only hurts me.” I looked at her and said, “I only have powdered milk to offer, but with Hershey’s chocolate mixed in, I bet my hot chocolate can comfort your female emotions.” She smiled at me and said, “I will help you heat the water, and then we will put in the powered milk and chocolate. The worst that will happen is that the hot chocolate will be a little lumpy. Nothing can ruin Hershey’s chocolate.” Within a few minutes time, we had steaming hot chocolate in our cups. Becky spooned a little out and blew on it to cool it down, and then tasted it. She leaned over to me and gave me a chocolate kiss. She giggled and said, “This is not too bad. You are a good friend, and I thank you for this treat.”
***
Becky allowed me to set the sails and stand watch over the Pacifica during the day. She wanted me to begin to feel comfortable being alone on the deck for a few hours at a time, especially during the nighttime. During supper, we discussed sailing late into the night to give us both a feel of this new vessel in the dark. I had checked the Coast Guard marine forecast and discovered that by daylight tomorrow, the wind would pick up and it was supposed to rain for most of the morning, and then clear by midday. Becky looked at me and said, “How about if we sail during the night until we run into the storms. Then we can take turns on watch for a couple hours at a time. When the weather clears after lunch, we can take turns napping in our deck chairs.” I laughed and said, “I have thought hard and long about sailing this vessel for thirty days or so without stopping. I think I am in for a very exciting time in my life, and I am certain I will jump for joy when we spot land for the first time.” Becky stood beside me as we looked out towards the west. We could now begin to see the high wispy clouds moving towards us. I hoped we would not have lightning and thunderstorms, but realized that out here on the ocean, anything was possible. We could always lower the sails and run submerged if the weather got too bad on the surface.
By two in the morning, the waves began getting larger, and the wind seemed to change direction often. Becky and I took down the foresail and stowed it in the cabin. Then we lowered the telescoping mast sections down into the hull and pinned them in place. The mast sections were designed to slide down into the hollow tube that passed vertically straight down through the vessel. There was a rod at the very bottom of the mast tube so the two mast sections would not fall all the way through and be lost in the ocean. The foresail mast now stuck up above the deck about a foot. With the foresail stowed, it was much easier to keep the main sail from luffing in the wind and slowing our foreword speed. We were running a port tack and I reached down into the stern hatch and moved the rudder a couple degrees starboard. The two opposing sails filled almost instantly, and I locked down the rudder handle to keep it in place. I took my compass out of my pocket, turned on the penlight that I wore around my neck and checked our forward direction. We were running about two degrees north of our intended path, but with sideslip in the waves, we should end up on course.
Becky had gone to bed about an hour ago and I intended not to wake her until daylight, unless the storm worsened and I needed her assistance to protect the vessel and our lives. I was staying nice and warm, even with the breaking waves splashing on deck and the persistent rain. I had put my Under Armour cold weather shirt and pants on under my dry suit, and along with the wool socks, and my hood and hat, I felt very comfortable. The Pacifica was holding level in the five-foot high waves. As the vessel ran diagonally through the waves, I had no idea how much forward speed we were carrying, but I knew by my compass readings that we were still moving towards the west.
Just before daylight, the rain stopped and I could see a faint light beginning to show behind me in the eastern sky. By seven or so, it was daylight and the sun was peeking through the clouds. I felt the air begin to warm a little and soon the waves began to recede. By eight o’clock, I saw the hatch door begin to open out of the corner of my eye and Becky stuck her head up top to check on me. When she saw that I was doing all right, she said, “I will potty and make us some coffee.” I realized that Becky had gotten about five hours sleep so she would not have too much difficulty staying awake this morning. When she came up on deck with the coffee, she said, “I will stay up here on deck if you want to check our position with the sextant and plot our position.” I thought about what she was asking me to do and said, “I will do that and then check my navigational skills with the GPS.” She giggled and said, “You won’t cheat will you?” I said, “Actually no, I won’t cheat. I need to make certain I can do the calculations correctly every time. If I cannot, I need to address the problems now at the beginning of our voyage. I have the luxury of checking myself with the GPS now, but if we were to run out of batteries or the units failed, I need to be able to rely on my own sailing s
kills.” She kissed me good morning and said, “I will fix us some breakfast if you want before you lay down to get some sleep.” I thought about food and said, “I will check our position first so we can make a tack if necessary, then we can prepare breakfast.”
It took me about twice as long as Becky to use the sextant and do the mathematics on the navigation chart. When I was certain I was correct, I carried my notebook up on the deck and went over the numbers with the captain. She said, “Your work looks perfect, Stanley. I will keep us on this course until lunch and then we will check our position again and make a starboard tack if we need to, or if the wind direction changes.” I laughed and said, “Now the true test. I will go turn on the GPS and see what it reads.” I was very surprised when I wrote down the GPS readings and compared them with my calculations. I stepped up onto the deck with the camp stove and said, “The GPS says we are about a football field farther north than the sextant. I am impressed with the accuracy of the sextant.”
As we prepared breakfast, the last of the storm clouds moved on past us and the sun warmed the air around us. Becky sat down beside me and said, “You did well last night. Did you manage to stay awake alright?” I laughed and said, “The wind blew so hard early this morning that I shortened up my safety rope in case I slipped on the deck. I did not want you to find me bobbing along behind the boat on a long rope when you came to check on me.” She said, “I hope you realize that we traveled 92 miles in the last twenty four hours, and that is very good for sailing into the wind, especially since it is only our first full day out at sea. You obviously kept the sails properly filled last night, or we would not have made such good time. I suggest that you get some sleep after breakfast and I will navigate until mid afternoon. Then I will fix us an early supper, get another nap until dark and take the helm until breakfast tomorrow. After a couple three days, we will both have a good feel for the vessels stability, and we can sleep together at night while the Pacifica sails unattended, if we have clear weather.”
SS Pacifica Page 11