SS Pacifica

by Coleinger, Ronnie

  As I carried the bags up onto the deck, Becky brought up the rope that we had attached to the dinghy. Then we pulled the dinghy up onto the dive platform and then up onto the deck. As we tied the dinghy to the safety rings welded into the hull, we realized that there was a van parked at the end of the docks with signage that read, TV 5 News. Becky giggled and said, “Maybe you should strip off your shirt and do a couple hundred pushups for the girls. Then you could flex some of those magnificent muscles for them. They seem intent on what we are doing.” I laughed and said, “Maybe you should strip off those cloths and show them how cute you look in that white bikini you are wearing underneath.” Becky’s face turned crimson over my words, but she did consider my words for a moment. She finally said, “I think not. The pictures might end up on the evening news. I would not want your daughter to be humiliated when she saw the videos of your wife strutting around in her bathing suit, trying to impress the camera crew.”

  As we lifted the anchor and began motoring out of the harbor, the cameras on the dock followed us. When we set the sails and a port tack out into deep water, we saw a dozen or more people on the end of the dock waving at us. Becky quickly walked to the stern and began waving back. I giggled, knowing she would like to see the video feeds if they appeared on the news channel. The Pacifica-Two was an impressive vessel.

  We worked our way out into deep water and turned southwest towards the equator. We calculated the trip to be about 3200 miles, which would take us a little under a month to sail. If we pushed hard, we could do it in twenty-three days. The weather would be the determining factor at this point. We had ample supplies aboard. We would hope for a little rain so we could keep the water jugs refilled, but we could manage the entire thirty days without refilling them if necessary.

  Once we were out in open water, we carried the spinnaker up from the cabin and hung it. As the sail filled with air, the Pacifica-Two surged forward. The speed increase with the huge sail behind us was physically noticeable. When I checked on the GPS, I found we were running at 5.1 knots, an incredible speed for a vessel of this configuration. A catamaran running at this speed was quite likely, but a bullet shaped vessel like the Pacifica-Two, not so likely.

  If we could maintain this speed, we would arrive at the Equator in twenty-six days. However, I realized that we could not run the spinnaker all the time. Foul weather, wind direction, wave height and many other factors would determine our speed. I really was in no hurry; Becky and I were on the adventure of our lifetime. This trip might be the last time we sailed such long distances; however, I would like to sail around New Zealand and up to the south side of Australia, just once in my lifetime.

  It was late afternoon and we decided to lower the sails and allow the Pacifica-Two to follow the ocean currents for the night. We knew that the currents would carry us straight south if the winds were light. Not until we reached the equator would the currents change and begin moving west. As we lowered the sails and tied them to the masts, we decided to take a swim and wash some of the sweat off us before it got any darker. I sat down on the edge of the swim platform and then slid down into the water. I let my safety line out a little, but tried to stay close to the platform. As my legs moved to keep me afloat, I felt a sharp pain in my left leg. I knew instantly that something either had bit or stung me. I quickly swam back to the platform and pulled myself up and out of the water. Becky was hanging on the port swim ladder, trying to untangle a piece of fishing line trash that we had sailed into. I yelled a warning at the top of my lungs for Becky to stay out of the water. She quickly moved to the swim platform to see what had happen to me. When I looked down, a spot on my leg was already starting to swell up.

  When Becky looked at my leg she said, “It looks like a jelly sting. I can see a tentacle. She grabbed her knife that was lying on her towel and scraped the tentacle and stings cells off. Then she splashed sea water over the area.” I looked down into the water and realized there were more of the little bastards just under the surface of the water. They seemed to be following us. Becky said, “We have vinegar. I will get some. Keep putting sea water on the leg, but don’t get your hand into another jelly.” When she returned with the vinegar bottle, she carefully poured some onto the red area. Then she waited a couple minutes and poured a little more on the wound. She soaked a small area of my clean towel with the vinegar and laid it over the red area. She said, “The vinegar kills the sting cells.” Then she poured a little more vinegar on the towel. She said, “They say to leave the vinegar on for twenty minutes. I think we should follow those guidelines.”

  After twenty minutes or so, she applied some Lidocaine gel from the first aid kit. She said, “It will sting and itch for awhile, but the sting cells should be dead from the vinegar and Lidocaine.” She said, “I have lots of Benadryl jell and we can apply that later when it begins to itch.”

  I stood up and said, “That is the first time I have ever been stung by a jelly fish. I am glad we could see the tentacle and the jellies below us or I would have been afraid it was a Portuguese man-of-war.”

  I asked Becky if anything else worked to kill the sting cells. She giggled and said, “Once upon a time, a man and woman were bathing in the sea to get clean before sex. The man was stung on the end of his penis by a jellyfish. The woman did not know how to treat the sting, but had heard that urine would kill the sting cells. She promptly pissed on her husband’s genitals and then had fabulous intercourse with his swollen member. Two days later the man died from his wounds. The moral of the story is that urine is not a good treatment for jellyfish stings.” I began to laugh over my wife’s story. Then I asked if the tale was true. She said, “I don’t know, but the woman later died from jelly fish stings inside her vagina.” I chuckled over her story and then headed down to the cabin for a shirt.

  When I returned to the swim platform to help Becky rinse the surface of any remaining sting cells, I said, “Thanks for the first aid lesson. I now know what to do if you get stung.” She giggled and said, “I should not have told you the story about the man getting stung.” I chuckled over her words and said, “I guess we should wait awhile before taking our baths. Maybe tomorrow, after we move to another location, we can bathe.” She said, “A pan of water heated on the camp stove will give us warm water to cleanse our bodies before I join you in your bed.”

  When I went down into the cabin, I checked the depth gauge to see how deep the water below us was. I was shocked at the reading. We were sitting in water over two thousand feet deep. I decided that trying to drop the anchor tonight would probably not reflect favorably on my engineering degree.

  As the Pacifica-Two gently rolled in the sea waves, Becky let the movement of the bed under my back guide her body. I heard her heavy breathing and felt her body tense as she enjoyed the wonderful chemistry flowing through her body. When she leaned forward and rested her head on my shoulder she said, “That was nice. I am afraid I panicked when I heard you speak my name earlier. The tone of your voice told me you were injured, but your male ego prevented you from voicing your true fear in the water. I feared you had been bitten, instead of stung.”

  I rubbed Becky’s back and tried to force her mind to forget that moment of fear she had felt tonight. I knew her fear came from deep down within her soul. I knew her father had ingrained that fear of sharks in her, but I hoped that tonight would not keep her out of the ocean. Tomorrow, I would swim with her and calm her fears, just as soon as the area was clear of jellyfish.

  Twice during the night, I got up and went up on deck to check my GPS. I was concerned we might drift too far off course. I soon found out we were doing just fine and returned to my bed. When I got comfortable in my bed after the second trip to the deck, I heard Becky get up and climb the ladder. As she stood on the top step, I saw the light from the display on her GPS. Apparently, she was also concerned we might fall off the edge of the world while we drifted in the dark.

  As she sat down on the edge of her bed, I spoke to her and said, “I hav
e been checking our position all night. We are not drifting very fast, just following the Pacific currents.” Becky moved over to my bed. I pulled the covers back and let her snuggle in with me. As I covered us up with a sheet, she asked, “Is your leg hurting you?” I rubbed her shoulder and said, “No. I am fine.” She giggled and said, “I doubt that. A jellyfish sting hurts for days. If it should start hurting, I left the tube of ointment on the eating table. The medicine will make it feel better and stop much of the itching.” I moved up closer to her and soon fell asleep.

  The next time I woke, it was daylight and the sun was shining in both hatch doors. As I moved my body a little in the bed, Becky stirred and rolled over on her back. I touched her nipple with my finger and her right eye popped open. She said, “Don’t start what you can’t finish. I had wonderful dreams about you all night.” I kissed her cheek and said, “What I need right now is to be out of this bed.” She giggled and said, “I will join you on the swim platform. I have the same need.”

  As we did our business, we checked down in the water to see if there were any more jellyfish below us. Becky said, “We left them behind during the night and any stinging cells that remained on the hull of the vessel died in the salt water.” I put on my safety harness and slid down into the cool water. It felt incredibly good this morning. Becky slid my Soap-On-A-Rope over my neck and then did the same thing with hers. When she joined me in the ocean, she put her face down in the water and looked beneath the vessel. When she raised her head back up she said, “The water below us is only a few hundred feet deep. I can see rocks and things on the bottom.” I had to look. When I finally raised my head up, I said, “We need to check our position with the GPS and look at a map. The water here really is shallow. We must be on some form of reef or over an ancient volcano.”

  When we dried off, I turned on my GPS and wrote down our present location. When Becky found our position on the map, we discovered that we were actually over an underwater island, which is part of the Clarion Fracture Zone. Now that we knew where we were at, it was obvious by looking at the map that we needed to begin slowly steering towards the southeast. We had traveled past the southern tip of the California Baja peninsula. Our destination now was the equator. We intended to cross the equator about 500 miles off the west coast of South America, then turn northeast towards the Panama Canal. The trip to the equator would take us another sixteen or so days. If we lowered the sails again as we did last night, it would take us a little longer.

  We set sail before breakfast. Now that we were clear of any other vessels, we worked up on deck without any clothing. I noticed that Becky’s body was getting darker every day; she often spent a few hours each day on deck in the nude, but was careful to ask for more suntan lotion on the places she could not reach. Damn, the girl was beautiful, and better yet, she was in love with me. The fact that Becky loved me made my life complete. Now that the Pacifica-Two was on course towards the equator, we returned our attention to fixing breakfast.

  When we returned to the deck, Becky sat down in a chair on the bow. As she sipped her coffee, she suddenly stood up, carried her chair to the bow hatch, and said, “Stanley, come up on deck, quickly.” I almost ran up the ladder. When my head cleared the hatch, I realized my wife was standing right beside me. She had the most horrible look on her face. I climbed the last three steps and stepped out onto the deck. Becky moved closer to me and said, “Look out over the bow and tell me what you see.” When I looked, I realized that the ocean was a moving mass of small fish. I watched for a moment and then pointed towards the west. There we could now see the dorsal fins of the sharks that were feeding on the small fish. At first, I thought only whales performed this predation ritual of herding small schools of fish, but these were sharks, not whales.

  I climbed down the ladder and retrieved our safety belts and lanyards. When I stepped up beside Becky, I handed her the belt and watched as she wrapped it around her waist and drew it up tight. Then I connected the lanyard to the belt and to the ring on the deck beside her. Then I followed the same procedure with my own safety equipment. Falling overboard in this warm water normally would not be a serious event, but right now, that mistake could be fatal. I decided that we would wear the safety gear until we were out of these shark-infested waters. I went down into the cabin and located two more short lanyards. When I returned to the deck, I fastened one at the bow and one at the stern. That way, if we needed to move around on deck, we could always have a safety line attached.

  As I returned to where Becky stood, she said, “I need my knife.” When she returned from the cabin, she had her knife strapped to her leg and handed me my knife. I knew her reasoning for wearing knives and made no comment over her decision. Now that we could not fall overboard, Becky sat back down in her chair and watched the sharks feed. The animals were beautiful to watch, but they still sent chills up and down my spine as they worked their prey. I had seen pods of whales work as a team to feed, but had never seen sharks do it. I had always thought of sharks as solitary hunters: Unwilling to work as a team. Today proved I was wrong.

  I wondered what type of fish the sharks were feeding on. I decided to get a fishing pole and try to catch one, knowing they probably would not take my bait. I carried my fishing pole down to the swim platform. I carefully secured my lanyard so I could not fall into the water if I slipped. Within a couple minutes, I had one of the fish flopping around on the swim platform. I quickly handed my pole up to Becky and carried the fish by the tail up onto the deck. The fish was about two feet long, but I was unsure what it was. It looked similar to a Jack, but I would need the fish book from the cabin to be certain. Becky retrieved the book and within a minute or so said, “The fish looks to be a Bluefish and is good to eat. It says here that the fish go on feeding frenzies and will eat anything in their midst. I suspect the sharks were simply taking advantage of the schooling Bluefish.” I retrieved my fillet knife from the cabin and made quick work of the fish. I threw the carcass overboard, knowing that the predators around us would make a quick lunch of it. There was enough meat in the pail for three meals. Becky carefully washed the fillets in some of our rainwater and put them in the cold box in the bow.

  That same night, we ran into a heavy summer storm. We wanted to keep the sails up and sail through the storm if possible. Becky sat in the bow hatch watching out the viewing windows and occasionally going down and filling rainwater containers. Once the containers were full, we sailed through the rain throughout the night, taking turns at watch in the stern hatch. Around three in the morning, I saw a light out the port side window. It was not lightning; it was still there after a few seconds. I raised the hatch cover and looked towards the light. Then I realized I could see many lights and most of them were in a row like windows on a cruise ship. I spoke Becky’s name and woke her. She quickly put on her rain gear and joined me on the deck. The vessel was a mile or so from us, but even in the rain, we could make out that the vessel was huge. Becky said, “It does look like a cruise ship to me. It would be nice if we could read the name on the hull. I would like to email them, telling them that we passed them in the dark.” Becky got her GPS out and wrote down the coordinates of the vessel and the time.

  As we watched the vessel disappear in the night, Becky said, “I am awake now. I will stand watch until daylight. Go get some sleep.” When I got down into the cabin, I found the tube of medicine and rubbed some on my leg. The area around where the jellyfish stung me was still red and swollen. It also itched like hell. Once I had the medicine rubbed in so it would come off on the sheets, I crawled under the covers. When I turned off my headlight, I heard Becky say, “Good night my love. I hope your leg feels better tomorrow.” I told her good night and then pulled the covers up to my neck. I now wondered how the woman knew I had used the medicine. She was still up on the deck when I did it. I had not wanted her to know my leg hurt, but now she did. I knew she would mother me to no end tomorrow.

  As I stood on the swim platform fishing, I heard Becky
yell. “Get the paddles, bare your ass; we have passed through the equator.” I began to laugh at my wife’s words. When I looked up, she pulled her bikini bottom down and said, “Spank this if you must.” I laughed at her antics, but knew in my heart that I could never spank my wife, although I had threatened to do so a number of times. That cute little butt she showed me looked white compared to the skin above the waistband. I walked up to her, put my fingers in her bikini bottom and moved it down an inch or so. She giggled and asked, “Have you changed your mind. Am I going to be spanked like a two year old for baring my bottom?” I giggled over her words, but explained that she had burned her back. Now that I was close to her, I could see how red it really was. I got the suntan lotion from the cabin and put as much as I could get to rub in on the burned spots, then put more on the rest of her back and legs. Becky tried to see her back but could not. She said, “I had better put on a shirt for a couple of days. I don’t need blistered skin.” When she turned around to face me she said, “Sorry for teasing you.”

  We sailed a mile or so over the equator and then turned the vessel around and began our journey towards the Panama Canal. When we did the calculations, we figured we could make it to the Panama Canal in six or seven days. With the wind to our backs, we could run the spinnaker as often as the weather would allow.

  Chapter 30 – The Panama Canal Crossing

  Becky’s Uncle Pika had told her that when she was ready to cross the Panama Canal to call him. He had friends who lived in Veracruz, Panama who would help us get the Pacifica-Two safely through the locks. Our biggest concern was over the sailing and dive/steering planes. If something struck the planes and damaged them, the vessel would be useless on the high seas until we could make repairs. Changing a plane would only take a couple hours, but in any of the shark-infested waters approaching the locks, making the repairs could be deadly. Becky reminded me that the water in the canal was mostly fresh water from Gatun Lake. We had seen pictures of crocodiles in the fresh water on the Internet. I had no desire to attempt repairs in any of the waters in this area. I disliked sharks and truly had a fear of crocodiles. If we received damage, we would have to motor out into the Atlantic and do a repair there.