Young Man and the Sea

We have left the hospitality of Key Largo and spent couple of nights at the nearby anchorage off the Rodriguez Key. Our plan was to cross the Gulf Stream as soon as we possibly can. We were hoping to spend our Christmas on some picture perfect island in the Bahamas. The weather had its own schedule and cold fronts were sweeping Florida one after another, keeping the winds in a North - North by East directions. That would make for a very uncomfortable crossing, when Northern winds collide with the waters of the Gulf Stream moving at 3 knots in the opposite direction. This usually results in steep and confused seas and stomach turning bumps, yanks and jerks of the boat. We were waiting impatiently. I kept myself occupied installing our newly arrived solar panels courtesy of our friend from Toronto. On Sunday evening Randy, bless his heart, showed up to see if we're alive and well. What a great guy he is. He encouraged us to make the crossing, providing it's not blowing over 20 knots. Well, last night it was and forecast for tonight was also discouraging; Coast Guard was issuing small craft advisory for high seas. Next day however brought some change. The forecast called for moderate winds changing in the morning to the East. Furthermore we met a Canadian family consisting of 3 lovely young boys and their parents who were very upbeat and ready to cross to the Bahamas themselves this very night. Their enthusiasm was contagious, as enthusiasm often is and we started to psyche ourselves out for our first overnight crossing. Three cheers for the tough Canadians!

We started to get ready mentally first. We were simply way outside of our comfort when it came to sailing at night. Like most of the firsts it seems like a big deal until you do it few times and get comfortable with it. Experience it's what it's all about and we had none. I felt much better being able to follow another boat the first time we do it. Later on in the afternoon our friendly companions gave us a shout over the VHF and we started to move towards Molasses Reef. The plan was for both of our boats to arrive at the moorings scattered around the reef and wait for the nightfall. Then we would sail together into the Gulf Stream, keeping a close eye on GPS, constantly correcting the course as required in the fast moving current of the Gulf Stream. We should make to the Bahamas the next day during the daylight, only few hours behind our friends who had a bigger and faster boat.

Since we were going just to move up towards the reef moorings we only set the big genoa to get us there. This big head sail is easier for us to bring up and take it down than a main sail. I was getting really excited hearing the sound of the water under the hull again after such a long brake. It was late afternoon. It wasn't blowing hard and our Canadian friends were way ahead of us motoring towards the moorings. Seems like they found the mooring ball because we were coming closer to them now. Imagine our surprise when after a while we realized they were heading right back in our direction. When we passed each other - too far to shout against the wind we got them on the radio to find out what's up.

"It's too rough out there" we've heard the wife's voice from the speaker. "We'll try again tomorrow."

Johannes and I looked at each other. Should we stay or should we go now? Our eyes we were asking one another.
"Whaddya think?"
"Are you up for it?"
"Let's do it"
"Yeah"
We came on the radio: "We'll go anyway. See you in the Bahamas?"
"Good luck AfterBlue" she said.
"You too. AfterBlue back on sixteen." was my quick reply.

In a moment we understood their change of hearts. We were still inside of the reef but we could already see the breakers going over it. It wasn't blowing hard anymore but I guess it would take this night to come the seas down. Johannes and I were starting moving up and down with the boat. We psyched ourselves all day for this crossing and we didn't want to hang on this anchorage another day. Without stopping at the moorings we zipped across the reef and head out into the Ocean watching big orange head of the Sun as it slowly lay to rest on a puffy clouds scattered on the horizon.

We were still flying our big genoa and no main. I didn't have the heart to ask Johannes to change the sails and was too excited about steering the boat to do it myself. In the end it got dark soon and we were already coming in and out of swells. Our course demanded tacking from time to time and having all the sail up front made it impossible to bring the boat close to the wind. It would cost us many extra hours, but it was already too dangerous to monkey around on deck by now. We were just holding on.

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