Yellow Banks anchorage
In the morning I wake up and the first thing I notice is how much we're rolling. The conditions are calm, but the lumpy ocean sends the boat into a harmonic motion. I squeeze some fresh orange juice and by 10 am "hit the road", sailing out of the anchorage with the light north wind.
I set the big genoa and shake out the reef in the oversized mainsail, which brings the canvas to a maximum. We're moving well, around 5 knots with a light wind, going around the south of the island, beating upwind. The aim is to reach Albert's anchorage to spend the night.
The mainsail (left) and genoa, aka the headsail (right)The autopilot is back in action but it's "rusty", sometimes moving very slowly, not keeping up with the boat's motion. Maybe it's kaput. Still, under these mellow conditions it is steering proper, which is a tremendous luxury - I can go up on the foredeck and say hi to the spider which has taken residence in the bow. I haven't actually seen the insect itself, but every morning there's a beautiful new spiderweb between the forestay and the windlass, which is a prime spot indeed.
The autopilot clips on to the tiller, and occasionally works.
FRUSTRATIONS
I'm a few miles offshore, planning to tack soon, when the wind suddenly dies. Kicking the engine into gear, we motor for several hours; though I'm still a half hour away from Albert's, I decide to investigate another anchorage, Blue Banks, which is closer to the surf spot I plan to go the following day or two. It is deceptively beautiful, but the constant surge or slush of water makes it feel like a "toilet bowl".
Blue Banks anchorage
By this time - 7 pm - I'm so tired that I don't want to go elsewhere. I drop the 2 hooks, make a quick Indian food "heat and eat" dinner and go to sleep, looking forward to the surf tomorrow, which is close by.
No comments:
Post a Comment