Per the wise advice of my sailing friends…I have decided to wait a few days until after our harrowing event to write my blog post. If I hadn’t waited it probably would have sounded a little something like this:
Once again my husband has tried to kill me. Despite attempts in the past, this was by far the closest he came to succeeding! But once again, my stubbornness has won and here I still am. Hahaha, I have fouled his plan once more!!!
I always said that I wanted to be completely honest with the people reading this blog, so I had to get that out of my system! Okay now that I got my initial reaction out I feel better. Here’s what really happened:
A few weeks ago the crew of SeaGlub and our friends Tony, Tyler, Adam, Jessica, and Rocket decided we would take a little trip down to Ensenada, Mexico. The idea was to get our boat out of the slip (we hadn’t moved the poor girl since we arrived in San Diego back in August) and have a trial run for checking into other countries with someone who had done it before. Our friend Tony used to have his boat at an awesome marina called Hotel Coral & Marina down in Ensenada and we all thought it would be a great little vacation and the perfect place to practice.
Plans were made: reservations acquired, documents double checked, weather windows watched, boat projects finished up, SeaGlub got waxed by Chris, pedicures completed, make-ahead meal cooked, provisioning of both boats finalized, lots of booze purchased, and early to bed the night before. The morning came and our alarms went off at 2am. We wanted to make sure to get down to the marina with some daylight, considering we had never been there before, and would feel more comfortable seeing where we were going.
As Chris and I began to ready the boat we felt a stiff breeze and I was honestly a little surprised. We had checked the weather window weeks, days, and the night before our scheduled departure and it said exactly what we were feeling. Breezes out of the Northwest lending themselves to a hopeful SAIL down to Mexico. But still, it’s San Diego…people always talk about the lack of wind and the usual motoring down south. So, despite the multiple checks of weather and wind I was a bit surprised that there was actually wind at two o’clock in the morning.
We continued to ready the boat; stow last minute items, check to make sure all the cupboards are closed tightly, run the jack lines, don lifejackets, all of the usual steps we take. SeaGlub was ready and so was her crew! We pulled out of our slip with no incident (we don’t need no stinking bow thruster!!!) and began heading out into San Diego Bay. Tony, Tyler, Adam, Jessica, and Rocket were all up and ready to go on s/v Badfish and were making their final preparations for departure. Our plan was to buddy-boat down to Mexico in case of any incidents where we needed each others help and just have more awesome people to party with. SeaGlub motored out and BadFish soon caught up. They realized they were having some issues with their compass and needed to do some circles to recalibrate. Seeing as they are a Catalina 47 and aren’t even close to as heavy as our ol’ gal SeaGlub, we decided to continue motoring knowing that they would be hot on our tails in no time.
Based on our previous trip through the channel I asked that we wait to hoist the sails until we knew what the wind was going to be doing out in the open ocean (insert Hesitant Half). Chris was willing to compromise and indulged my insecurities as long as he could. With the end of Point Loma lurking like a dark shadow in the pitch black of pre-dawn we started hoisting the sails. It was windy and we were going to sail down to Mexico damn it!
Out came the main and our 130 genoa sail. “Yeeeeehaaaaaaw!!!” Chris yelled into the night like a deranged cowboy pirate! We were screaming along going over 8 knots! At that rate we were going to be in Mexico with enough daylight to take a nap, drink some beers, and eat some tacos before we had to check into the country. SeaGlub was heeling and we were hauling ass!!!!!!!...
Which means I was uncomfortable (insert hesitant half…again). It was 4 o’clock in the morning and everything was completely dark. I could barely see the channel markers and my ‘house’ was leaning pretty far on her side. I tried looking behind us to see where Badfish was and we didn’t see her. Chris asked me to call Jessica and see where they were. After a brief discussion about whether to reduce sail or call Jessica first, I reluctantly called Jess to check to make sure they were okay. Badfish and her crew were fine and had fixed the compass and were motoring out the channel somewhere behind us. Phew! Everyone is fine and on their way.
“Hey Chris. What did the weather reports say the swell is supposed to be like?” I asked my skipper. “Small,” was Chris’s reply. “Small like your idea of small, or small like what I would think is small?” You know me with all the questions. “I don’t know babe, they are predicted to be small.” No sooner did I put my phone in my pocket that the VHF Channel 16 chimed in with a small craft advisory. Hmmm….maybe we’d better reduce our sails sooner rather then later. The end of Point Loma was in view and Chris and I were talking about which sail to bring in first. And then IT happened!!!!! The IT that all sailor fear! The IT that they know will happen to them one day…it’s only a matter of time! THE INFAMOUS KNOCKDOWN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Dun dun duuuuuuuuuu
Next thing I knew I was flying from one side of the cockpit to the other, our rail was in the water, the foot of our jib below the salty waters surface, and I saw my life flash before my eyes! (Not really, but it sure felt like it). Pardon my language…but all I could do was say “Oh fuck! Oh my god! Oh fuuuuuuck!!!” I didn’t know what to do. I had never been in this situation before (thank goodness because once is enough). I had remembered hearing about what to do when you get in these types of situations: find a way to spill some wind from the sails! Chris was trying to manhandle the boat as I am hanging on for dear life trying to figure out what to do. I got my bearings, put my legs straight out against the opposite side of the cockpit and made my way slowly back to the mainsheet, that Chris was working on releasing, to let the mainsail out. Boom! Instant relief but still not enough! We were still healed over about 45 degrees and I had to get back up to release the jib before we could reduce sail. Meanwhile rain is pelting us and felling like nettles are being thrown at us while cans of food were flying around below decks. Finally I manage to crank in half of the jib and mainsail and we regained some sort of control. Once we did a little damage control and made sure we were okay, the boat was okay, and so were our friends……I threw up. A lot!!!
Badfish hadn’t encountered any of the events that we had. No 45mph wind, no rain, no squall. Thank goodness! Both boats were out in the open ocean now, and the seas were not ‘small.’ Our sail was going to be extremely rough with waves 8-10 feet with some sets a good 12-15 feet. This was going to be a long and uncomfortable trip down to Mexico. I debated asking Chris is we could turn back. We had just knocked our boat on her side and I was already seasick. Our voyage had only been going for 2 hours and I had at least 8 more to go. Despite my better judgment I just sat in complete disbelief and astonishment of what we had just experienced. I spent the next 10 hours either hurling over the side or curled up in a ball in the fetal position. This was not the nice warm sail down to Mexico I had been dreaming of over the past few years.
Upon arriving at our destination at The Hotel Coral Marina we relived our story with our friends on Badfish. I’m sure I smelled ripe but they all hugged and reassured me anyways. After all, we had made it to Mexico and it was time to party!
What I learned:
In the hours that I spent wishing the trip would be over, I had a lot of time to think and reflect on the events of the day. First of all, thank goodness we had our harnesses on! I can’t say what would have happened had we not been wearing them, but I am almost certain I would have ended up in the dark water amongst the 10 foot swells. The next thing I learned is that our boat is one tough bitch! Nothing happened to her! Nothing broke, nothing stretched, nothing leaked!!! SeaGlub was the boat we were hoping she would be for us in a situation like this. I learned that Chris can be one cool cucumber. Not once did he panic or yell or loose complete control. He held it together and got us all the way down to Mexico pretty much on his own despite feeling a little seasick himself.
What did I learn about myself? Well…I think I learned that I am a pretty tough bitch too! I didn’t make my husband turn around. Despite the projectile vomit and bile that I occasionally didn’t make over the side, I was fine. I even rallied and managed to drink a beer in our celebratory toast for us all surviving our crazy and uncomfortable trip south. Some people might have taken a bus home and vowed to never get on a boat again. But there I was, with this boat that I have learned to love bringing her home 5 days later back to beautiful San Diego. Lastly, thank goodness for wine! This is not a new revelation…but I’m sure all that extra weight below decks and in our keel helped keep us from going completely over.
I guess the old saying is true…What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger!