Grounded

We're stuck. Not really, really badly, but stuck none the less. Here must be some four feet of water plus weeds. We need five. These weeds are keeping us from breaking free I think...

The day we left Caibarien we took part in a very heated conference taking place in the fishermen's compound. I spoke no Spanish but mariners from anywhere can communicate certain concepts like North, South, West, strong breeze, two days, deep and shallow. The deep and shallow part was what interested us the most. We were on the banks and to go back to the deep waters of Old Bahama Channel we would have to backtrack North-West before we could continue East towards Havana. There was however an intricate passage used by fisherman that could save us two days of sailing but charts and common sense were telling us not to bother. The skinny guy, lets call him Pietro was however very animated in making his point. He was in his late forties, but his loose shorts and Tshirt gave him that younger brother look. "Plenty of water," "big boats," "no problem," "anytime of the day," he was gesticulating. Pietro was the most lively of the bunch and contended for the most attention. I shot a glance towards the gathered crowd and I could see caution and chagrin on their faces. If you're ever in doubt, I learned, there isn't one. Take the safer approach. This is where my first mate, delicious Tobi comes in, to disperse the clouds of doubt.

"Don't worry. It will be fine. It would save us so much time!" You see, I made the mistake in telling Tobi about how my mom used to constantly worry about everything and from then on Tobi, true to her Christian inner healing training, believed I was a child in a state of constant worry and indecisiveness.

"I'd rather go back, it looks pretty shallow on those charts..." I said. Yes. We were finally able to look at the digital charts for the area on my laptop when we were over at the Colonel's house, you see.

"Ohh, we'll be fine," she dismissed it.

I started to think. The last couple of weeks, as far as sailing goes, have not been much fun. We were going from place to place unable to land anywhere and we were often directed by La Guarda to anchor in some dubious places. We were also getting anxious to get going towards home at some point. Besides was it true that I always play safe? Am I not adventurous at all?

"If you really want, we could give it a go." I gave in.

That was how we end up grounded in the mouth of the zigzag channel day later. Okay, it sounds like I am blaming Tobi for a lot here. I am worse. Read on. The whole escapade through the banks wasn't a big deal, really. We tried the passage and it didn't work out. I didn't think we would have much difficulty in getting off the bottom anyway. We still had few hours before the high tide we were riding on would begin to decrease. We'd only lose couple of days because of this detour. No harm done.

Tobi was ready for any work I might have for her. I guess she felt responsible a bit. I shamelessly put her into a life jacket and passed her the anchor we were going to use to kedge ourselves off the shallow. The gentleman I am. But what a great sport Tobi was about all this. I’ll tell anyone, I'd sail with Tobi around the world any day! Without hesitation she got into the soupy water and started to walk the anchor ahead of the boat.

To my surprise when she and the anchor were off the boat our little sloop become responsive again and I motored out without the slightest effort past dumb folded Tobi. This was great and terrible at the same time. I was ecstatic to be free again but Tobi, like any self-respecting lady, however slim and beautiful she is, despised my comment about a difference it makes to take off a few pounds from a grounded boat. I hope you appreciate the risk I am taking by publishing this story.

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