![]() I regret to inform you that we have reached that low point in a sailors life when one’s skills and abilities are doubted, where embarrassment and disbelief collide - yes, the dreaded rescue at sea. Well technically we were in a protected sound with a sandy bottom, in 8 ft of water, probably the smallest sea possible, and did I mention that we were in the dinghy? Over the weekend we decided to check out the stingray sandbank where all of the tourists go to feed and swim with the stingrays. We anchored Zenobia a safe distance from the 2 ft sandbar and hopped in the Tasha Yar to row out to the snorkeling grounds. There was a fair bit of wind which created some chop in the sound, but it is well protected by land and reef on all sides - the conditions were not dangerous in anyway. As we rowed into the wind we were making very slow progress and Adam started to get a little cranky – we like to call it rowing cranky to distinguish it from hungry cranky. A couple of waves broke over the bow and we got some water in the bottom of the dinghy. I asked him to pass me the bailer, which was on the other side of the boat, but he felt that he was working far too hard to stop rowing. Upon my third request he picked up the bailer with his toes and tried to toss it in my direction but the wind picked it up and carried it out of the boat altogether. Adam reached over to pick it up from the water and lost the oar overboard. He thought that he had lost the oarlock and so he lurched for it, which pulled his entire torso over board and caused the dinghy to fill with water. I tried to climb up on the high side to level us out but eventually his whole body slid out. We were so full of water that I jumped out too to avoid swamping us completely. I should point out that Tasha Yar can’t sink and that we’ve swamped her many times – I think that we’ve even posted pictures. We simply bail her out and she’s fine. With one fin on I swam out to get the bailer while Adam stayed with all of our items which were beginning to float away. I nearly reached the bailer when a 40 ft power tour boat, full of tourists, motored between me and the bailer. They grabbed it from the water and refused to give to me until I got up onto their boat. I did and they informed me that they would take me back to the “other boat” and we would be taken back to shore. Confused I looked back at Adam and saw that the Tasha Yar was being raised onto the giant swim platform of another tour boat. Apparently the two boats had seen us and thinking that we had rowed from the shore, had decided to coordinate a “rescue” operation. The second boat, let’s call that one Adam’s boat, was bouncing around on the waves and nearly crushed the Tasha Yar under its swim platform and came very close to fouling its prop on our anchor line. Adam tried to wave them off a couple of times but they were determined to rescue him. I explained to the crew on my boat that we had come from our sailboat which was just a short distance away and that we were really in no danger. They brought me over to Adam’s boat and I jumped into the water and was pulled up into Adam’s boat – also full of tourists. By this time the Tasha Yar had been emptied of water and was fully up on the boat platform. We asked that she be put into the water again but the captain refused and said that he was taking us to shore. We explained that we’d only rowed from our sailboat but he still refused to release the dinghy. He said that he would take us back to our boat and that if we wanted to kill ourselves after that, it was our problem and then raged about us coming out onto the water with only paddles. According to him the next time we should leave our boat in a marina and pay him $50 to take us out to see the stingrays. We didn’t bother to tell him that we have crossed the Atlantic Ocean twice - he was very angry. I suppose from their perspective we were two yahoo tourists who had rowed out into the sound from shore and were in danger of drowning. Maybe by the time we explained ourselves they were so far into their rescue operation that they were beyond the point of no return? Like two naughty children we were admonished and then taken back to Zenobia against our protests – the tourists snapping photos the whole time. The funny part is that they dropped us past Zenobia, downwind of her, and when they dumped the dinghy some of our things floated away again. In the end Adam rowed around collecting things and I swam back to the boat against the wind and waves. At least when they thought we were drowning we were upwind and could have drifted back to Zenobia! Needless to say it was quite an adventure but we hope to never be “rescued” again. It’s been two weeks since we arrived on Grand Cayman and it’s been a frenzy of activity. We are very fortunate to have friends on the island, the Whan Tong family, and we’ve been taking advantage of their great hospitality. Zenobia has been tucked away at the dock and we’ve been staying in their guest room, sleeping in a bed and having real showers – we are basically living in the lap of luxury.
The only drawback to our temporary new lifestyle can be broken down into two partss. Part one: we have tried to use the opportunity to do work on the boat – always a painful and expensive adventure. And part two: we managed to pick up a rat while at the dock. Yes I said rat. We’re not totally sure how it got aboard but we’ve found loads of evidence of its presence. We devoted two days to hunting the rat, whom we named Rat Ford. We devised a very clever water trap using a ruler, peanut butter, and a bucket of water. Although very clever, as previously mentioned, it was not as effective as we had hoped and we switched to the less clever, but much more effective, snap trap. We believe that Rat Ford was wounded on the first night but managed to escape the trap alive – on the second night he wasn’t so lucky. When we found him we were overcome with relief and high-fived as we cheered over his broken body. It was morbid but it was also a time of great joy. Adam wanted me to post pictures but I felt that it might be a bit too much. Anyone who is desperate to see 8 inches of squished rat can apply to Adam directly. After we successfully terminated Rat Ford we tore apart the boat, cleaning up rat droppings and chewed up items from every nook and cranny. Apparently he was over every inch of the boat, or at least that is what we’re hoping for - the alternative is too grim. We like having guests on board but we aren’t ready for Zenobia to become a rodent cruise ship. When not checking and re-checking our traps, we spent a good week working on the items that were damaged on the passage here. Adam also took the opportunity to try to fix the alternator and fuel gauge which have been acting up for a while. He did an amazing job with the alternator and then, still on a high from this mechanical accomplishment, he tried his hand at the fuel gauge and promptly lost a vital component into the fuel tank. It was valiant effort but he just flew too close to the sun. Luckily he didn’t let it get him down for too long and, after a couple of days, he managed to retrieve the part and replace the entire fuel gauge. It still doesn’t work, but we’re pretty impressed with the installation. We’ve arrived in the Cayman Islands after a very long trip from Belize. The actual distance is only about 400 nautical miles in a straight line but we ended up travelling about 700 nm in the end. We had strong north east winds for most of the trip which, along with a strong current against us, made heading east very difficult. The first two days went well but the second night brought big squalls and unpredictable winds. At 3am we had no breeze and big seas and I decided to motor for a while to keep us going. Night time motoring through waves is a dangerous endeavour for those of us blessed with a tendency toward seasickness, but it was that or bounce around on the waves – another gateway to queasy feelings. I managed to motor until the end of my shift while trying to look, but not too closely, at the compass and with the bucket tucked tightly in one elbow. In the end I did succumb to full on seasickness which lasted for three days.
Adam brought me regular updates of our miserable progress as I lay in my sickbed and, at different points in the trip, he was sure that we were destined for Cuba, Mexico, or Texas depending on how bad our ability to point was. The sound of the waves as we bashed into them was startling and we got a considerable amount of seawater in the cabin as the breaking waves washed over the length of the decks into the cockpit. Around day four we were heading for the middle of the Yucatan channel, between Mexico and Cuba, and we decided to tack over with the hope of being able to head to Cuba. Miraculously we were suddenly able to lay the Cayman Islands and sped along the last 250nm. We arrived bright and early on the seventh day and the Port Security boat escorted us into the harbour at George Town on the south west side of Grand Cayman. We checked in, purchased a courtesy flag, and then took our place in the anchorage amongst the tour boats and the giant cruise ships. |
AuthorsAdam and Nikki Archives
August 2015
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