Sailing A Serious Ocean tip # 2

    0

    Excerpt from Sailing A Serious Ocean – by John Kretschmer

    Ric and Diane were on watch as we approached the northern edge of the Gulf Stream. Daylight was just creeping above the horizon. Within minutes the conditions changed from moderately rough to extremely rough. Ric, although relatively inexperienced as a helmsman, especially in heavy weather, was doing a fine job of steering Quetzal down the face of steep and occasionally breaking seas. Diane was sitting in the cockpit, facing aft and watching Ric and the huge waves piling up astern. Both were harnessed to the boat. They were cold and tired but seemed strangely satisfied and looking forward to the end of their watch in less than an hour. Ric and Diane has been making plans to buy a cruising boat, ditch their land lives, and take up full-time cruising. They had signed aboard for this exact moment, to get a taste of heavy weather and lean how to cope with a cruel sea.

    The ride had become noticeably different, and even from below I knew that Quetzal was in a danger zone. I was anxious to get on deck. I slid the companionway back and felt the rush of warm air, a signature of the Gulf Stream. I slammed the hatch behind me and stepped into the cockpit.

    I heard the wave before I saw it. It crested with a deep-throated roar. I ratcheted my head up and saw the monster curling above the stern. It occupied most of my field of vision – it was the largest wave I had ever seen. It was a moment of complete clarity, and time slowed as the wave began to break. I knew we were going to be crushed, and I wondered, coldly, objectively, if we would survive. I instinctively clutched the support rail on the side of the companionway and shouted, Hold on.

    A torrent of salt water swallowed us in frothy rush. The bimini and solar panel frame crashed on Ric, flattening him behind the wheel. Quetzal didnt go over, didnt broach. Somehow she regained her footing, straightened up, then dug her deep keel into the kissing foam and refused to budge.

    I was stunned and enormously relieved to see Diane. She was right where shed been before the wave hit. What force, what power, what magic had held her in place? She looked at me with an expression that Ill never forget. She was bewildered but not afraid, as if she knew shed experienced something that would frame the rest of her life. Ric was also okay, although he was unable to move, pinned down by debris. He even managed a smile. I briefly wondered how the crew below had fared.

    But time was not standing still; it just seemed that way. Queztal was wallowing. Another wave broke across her beam and flowed through the cockpit. It was not a massive wave but it didnt matter. It swept Diane away.

    I watched in horror and stunned disbelief as the wave carried her aft. I leaped after her. She was already most of the way off the boat, when the backs of her legs snagged the upper lifeline. A split second later I had a death grip on her thighs. I tried to drag her back into the boat, but I couldnt overcome the force of the water. Ric, who had to watch this appalling spectacle helplessly, reached out for her as he desperately tried to free himself.

    I screamed at Diane. Get back in this boat. Youre not going anywhere.

    But I didnt believe it. Pulling with all my strength, I tried to lift her back aboard. But I failed. My world was crashing. For nearly a decade, Quetzal and I had carried new sailors across calm and calamitous seas. But now the future was suspended by a lifeline and a couple of shackles, a particle of time. I knew that if Diane was washed away, I was going with her, and it would all be over.

    Once again it seemed like time stopped. Even today I can close my eyes and see Diane peering out from her hood pulled tight around her face. I can hear myself screaming at her and at the ocean.

    But Diane would turn out to be the lucky one that day, as you will find out in Chapter 10.

    John Kretschmer has logged more than 300,000 offshore sailing miles and his new book, Sailing a Serious Ocean is filled with not only stories of his voyages but sailing tips and advice, no sailor should be without. To purchase Sailing a Serious Ocean, go to Practical Sailors website now.

    Darrell Nicholson
    Darrell Nicholson is Director of Belvoir Media Group's marine division and the editor of Practical Sailor. A lifelong thalassophile, he grew up sailing everything from El Toro dinghies to classic Morgans on Miami's Biscayne Bay. In the early 90s, he left a newspaper job to sail an old gaff-rigged ketch across the Pacific and has been writing about boats and the sea ever since. His weekly blog Inside Practical Sailor offers an inside look at current research and gear tests at Practical Sailor, while his award-winning column,"Rhumb Lines," tracks boating trends and reflects upon the sailing life. He sails a Sparkman & Stephens-designed Yankee 30 out of St. Petersburg, Florida. You can reach him at darrellnicholson.com.