So yesterday WildChild sailed back down to Falmouth Harbour in Antigua. The conditions were sporty and it was the roughest sail Alex ever had. It was fun…. for a while… until I got sick with food poisoning. We were happily anchored off a beautiful resort on coco beach in southern Barbuda and watching the tourists fly in and out on the sea plane. It was a beautiful and idyllic anchorage with great swimming and a cool beach bar called Enochs. Alex was hanging out at the bar everyday enjoying life but he told me he wanted to go somewhere with people and action for Christmas.
Alex asked me if we could move the yacht back to Antigua for the holidays. I can understand his desire to be back in civilization so I began analyzing the weather data.
Things did not exactly look ideal. There is something called the Christmas winds down here in the Caribbean during the months of Dec-Jan. It has to do with northern arctic lows hurling low in the Atlantic ocean, the resulting back wind pressure draws in back fill air from Africa into the Caribbean. This whole thing basically means for a month of two we get stronger winds than usual. This year they started exactly on cue. They started yesterday.
Really we should have left Monday when most of the other cruisers headed south but we didn’t. For you sailors reading this… when you look at those forecasts would you have made the passage? These are not horrible conditions, you all know WildChild has been thru worse… WAAAAYYY worse. This would just be a sporty sail. I knew WildChild and I could do it, I was unsure how my crew would hold up, but maybe he would get himself a sporty sail before he leaves. Maybe he might enjoy it. I decided to make the jump and leave paradise.
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Anchor problems
So yesterday we woke up early morning at sunrise and began getting ready for the days rough sail. I knew the waves would be 6-10 feet so it is always be a good idea to mount the dinghy up on the front deck. Its a lot of work but with Alex’s help we got it done in less than an hour.
Alex is very good at getting the anchor up and down, very smart very fast learner. It was about 7:30am by the time we began the anchor raising procedure. It seems to be taking a long time and something doesn’t seem right. After a while I realize we are over the anchor and it should be up now, but it is not. I go forward and talk to Alex. He informs me he thinks its stuck on something.
Uh-oh…
When we set the anchor a few days earlier it dragged back about 20 feet before it dug in. At that time Alex dove the anchor and informed it set beside a small rock without touching it. I thought nothing of it at the time.
We must have the tip of the Rockna stuck underneath the edge of the unseen under the sand portion of the much bigger rock. This was a good teachable moment as I connected Alex’s training about trip lines and anchor balls to this situation. You know… the perfect solution to exactly this problem. I cast a glance down at my unused anchor ball and trip line in the deck beside us. I have not been using it down here because its all sand as far as the eye can see.
What are the odds in all these miles of sand I would ever get my anchor hooked into a rock…? right?
Well it seems the answer was 100%.
Ok… this is not my first rodeo… I have been in this situation before. I try motoring forward over the hook to lift it out. It will not budge.
Ok… I let out about 30 feet of chain and motor up and around to the port side of the anchor and try to twist it out. It will not budge.
Ok… maybe wrong way… I try swinging around to starboard and twist it out that way. It will not budge.
Uh-oh… the anchor is really stuck. Although the lovely warm turquoise waters here are rather clear, we do not have good enough visibility to see the anchor in the 20 feet of water below us. I cannot see the problem so it is hard to know what the solution is. What does the anchor need?
There are many things I can still do. I weigh the options in my mind and think them thru as Alex gets a bit impatient with me and bombards me with his ideas and solutions. I thank him for his help but stay clear in my mind as I seek out the odds of probability. There are many things I can do, but what is the most likely solution and proper next step to take? Work the problem.
I need to see the problem. The water is warm. I need to send a diver into the water. Alex agrees. I stay onboard to control the vessel. He slips his shirt off and grabs the snorkel gear and slips down the back swim ladder. He swims over the hook and gazes down. Without saying anything he takes a deep breath and dives down. I stand on the deck overlooking and filming the moment. I am curious to know what has gone wrong. I am sure it is something simple.
I see Alex staying down there for 20 seconds over the anchor then I see him move off to the starboard side, then surface. He says I got it.
I wonder what that means…? I got it.
He tells me he lifted the anchor out of the rocks, its free now, we are suddenly drifting away. I holler at him well hurry swim back on and I run back to the helm. We are drifting away in the 15 knots of morning winds. I do not want the yacht to drift away from him faster than he can swim to it, I do not want to have the prop engaged when he is trying to come up the back swim ladder. He boards without incident and tells me the story.
It seems his first report of the anchor laying beside a small rock was not accurate. He tells me the anchor was in a ring of rocks and just laying there, not dug in. The tip of the Rockna was just holding under the lip/ledge/ edge of the rocks. When the boat pressure of the chain released he was able to lift it backwards and out of the rock ring.
Problem solved.
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Sporty Sail
With the anchor up we motored out of the anchorage past all the reefs and shoals out to deeper safer water where we could raise the sails.
It seems that as I was moving back and forth on the deck that morning I had cut my leg up a little bit. I am not sure on what. It seems I will not be able to swim for a few days now. Basic sailing rule never swim with open cuts, never risk infection, always clean and disinfect all cuts immediately. They are just scratches but I am not sure how or when I got them.
We get the mainsail raised with the first reef in it. I know the winds will be around 15-25 knots today and with WildChild 20 knots means first reef in the main. We actually sail away for the first few miles with only the reefed main on a run, no genny. We were running at 7 knots in 17 knots of wind broad reach port tac. Not bad for my racy girl. Alex enjoys the speed.
We are still in the wave protection of the island when we make our last jibe and pull out 50% genny. The winds are averaging a sustained 18 knots, so its almost sporty (sporty sailing starts at 20 knots).
As we come out from behind the protection of Barbuda the waves are not as steep or bad as I worried they might be. We got lucky, the actual conditions are a little less than forecast, that gamble can always go either way. It seems apparent we are going to be fine today, this sail should go well.
I went up on deck to do some filming for the Youtube channel before things got rough. We were still close to the island. See the pink hat in the picture, my favorite new hat, with the special opening for a pony tail… this new hat that I love. Yeah…. Neptune took it so fast I didn’t even have time to raise my hand to grab it. If a person tried to pull my hat off perfectly and as fast and efficient as possible they could not have done a better job than the wind did. BAM… just like that my hat is gone. So sailors next time yer lifting yer beer please say a good-bye to Captain Lexi’s pink hat. 🙂
It was clear though that WildChild was going to get a thorough washing today. It was the right decision to put the dinghy up on the deck. I was quiet in the morning before we left the anchorage. I knew exactly what todays sail was going to feel like, I knew exactly what we were going to suffer thru today, I have done it hundreds of times, it is not fun. Alex did not like the feeling of the somber mood that over took me in the morning before the anchor incident, it affected him. He wanted me to be happy and cheerful and positive and optimistic.
It didn’t take long before Alex got seasick and had trouble holding his stomach down. He did really well though, he kept his gaze focused on the horizon and did a wonderful job holding dominion over his body. He never vomited once. His interest in me being all happy positive and optimistic faded away as he tried not to vomit. I knew it was coming, had been thru it many times and I don’t feel any need to be happy about it in advance. I have more of a grin and bear it mentality about sailing.
I was unsure if my several months of rest on land would have removed my sea legs from me but I was fine, the waves didn’t bother me at all. The ocean was fine for the first two hours, nothing to worry about, mostly 4-6 foot waves. WildChild was doing great sailing along at 7.5 knots on a beam reach port tac. We could have gone faster, I had both my sails quite reefed, but there was no need to make the experience more uncomfortable for me or my crew.
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Food Poisoning at Sea
As the day wore on, and I had made the decision to run down the windward coast of Antigua, conditions did get sporty. By afternoon we had 20 knots of wind most of the time as forecast and the waves did get to 6-10 feet. The waves were still un-organized and a bit confused, the constructive and destructive interference doing odd violent things to the water. The motion had begun to get rough, like a sudden up and down and jarring to the sides. There is a certain level of wave frequency that does funny things to my heart condition and by around 1pm I could feel my blood pressure start going up and down. I got white spots in my vision.
I knew it was going to make me vomit. This happens to me sometimes. I do not think I have ever been sea sick but I get heart condition sick. I will be completely fine, not bothered by the motion of the ocean at all, when suddenly, in violent ups and downs my blood pressure will suddenly drop. When this happens my core muscles relax and sometimes my stomach lets go. Usually within a few minutes, after my heart rate and blood pressure stabilize again I am fine again.
So when I suddenly got white spots in my vision I knew I was going to vomit. I calmly stuck my head out the side rails and looked down at the water waiting for my stomach to let go. As usual about a minute afterwards I was fine again. I am always tethered into the helm for just this reason, I never know when I might pass out.
I continue listening to podcasts on my lovely pink headphones and just keep sailing on. Alex is doing better sitting on the low side bench in front of me.
So about ten minutes later when my body vomits again it surprises me, I do not often vomit a second time. I did not feel my blood pressure drop. After looking down for a minute and paying homage to the god of the sea a second time I was puzzled. It seemed odd for me.
The third time started with severe abdominal cramps. This is new, never happens to me. I am puzzled about what is going on. Sure it is 8-10 foot waves on the beam and sometimes breaking under us, but I was completely happy and fine a minute ago. This sudden onset of stomach cramps is not normal for my body.
The fourth time I am screaming in pain from the tummy cramps. Alex pulls his headphones off and looks over at me. He asks me if I am okay. I cannot answer, only scream in agony and hold my tummy tight. A minute later I hurl again. Alex tells me I am white as a ghost. I start to get chills and achy body cramps. I ask Alex to come tether in beside me at the helm. He is feeling well enough to move around now. I am unsure if I am about to be incapacitated or not. I do not know what is happening but it is severe.
We sit together as I clutch my tummy and bear thru the pain. I am trying not to scream anymore. Clearly something has gone wrong. I am wracking my brain, what could it be. Slowly it occurs to me, the dinner I made last night. I made a simple rice dish with a can of diced mixed vegetables and an old can of canned chicken. An old can without a label or a date on it. It smelled fine when I opened it. Not that canned chicken ever smells great, it did not smell off.
Now I was beginning to wonder how wise it was to gamble on an old can of meat the night before a big passage.
Alex is okay and agrees to sit at the helm for me. I go forward and lay down flat on the low side bench, clutch my tummy and try to keep my screaming down to a minimum. Sometimes the cramps get so strong it hits a ten on the pain scale and uncontrolled screaming escapes my lips.
Alex is worried.
I am rather annoyed.
Sailing in ten foot waves is enough punishment for anybody. Sailing in ten foot waves with food poisoning is terrible. You probably should go your whole life without ever trying it. Trust me.
Slowly WildChild makes her way around the southern coast of Antigua and begins curving around to the west, bring the winds and waves from the beam to stern. The waves are easier to take on along the axis of the boat than on the beam. I am still in agony but after my sixth vomit my body stops vomiting. I can feel the pain cramps working their way lower thru my digestive system. Eventually I know I need to make a run to the head. I make a mess down there but feel better. I would love to just lay in my bed and cry but that is not one of the options. It will take both of us to get the boat into Falmouth Harbour and get her to anchor.
Slowly, with Alex and I both sitting at the helm we begin our run into the bay. Once we get into decent wave protection we put the genny away using the secondary port side winch. Then I bring WildChild into the wind and send Alex up on deck to begin dropping the mainsail. I am doing the helm work and helping with the halyard with one hand and holding my abdomen with the other hand. I am occasionally letting out yelps and screams in pain but I am functioning as I need to.
Alex is kind enough to do all the rope work so I can concentrate on the helm and getting us in. I can still think thru the discomfort but I am not at 100%. We make our way over to pigeon beach and manage to find ourselves a nice spot to drop our hook. It is a bit crowded in there but we squeeze in on the outside edge of the channel. Alex is doing all the heavy work on the anchor and I am trying focus on what I have to do.
Once my initial position is chosen we drop the hook and wait to see where she swings. The anchor location is not good, we have to lift and go again 30 feet closer to the channel. Second drop seems perfect. I go up on deck holding my crampy tummy and trying to fight the constant urge to vomit. I am still over watching what my crew is doing and analyzing the swing radius vs. chain scope. Will we bump into the neighbors in the night? Other cruisers hate it when you anchor too close and bump into them when the wind shifts. Food poisoning is no excuse for bad manners in an anchorage, the safety of the boat always comes first.
I decide to set a sentinal anchor to reduce my swing radius and double my holding power. The winds are supposed to get really rough here tomorrow. I would like to sleep well and not worry about dragging in the night.
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Soon too be Alone
All attempts at eating did not go so well last night. I managed to hold down about a dozen Ritz crackers and some Gatorade. I have not eaten anything today at all yet and its 5pm as I write this. Maybe tomorrow I can try to eat again. I am weak but okay, getting better.
I think about what is to come next.
My crew will leave soon to return home.
I will be alone again. If I was alone on yesterdays sail… well… what would that have been like…? I cannot help but dread the idea. The answer is it would be horrible. It is my fate and future. I think solo sailors are all crazy. It seems I am about to join the ranks of crazy brave solo sailors soon. Sailing itself is not so hard…. but who would like to be alone when shit goes wrong? Alone with nobody to help you…. sounds awful.
But is my fate here still better than being back in Canada locked down for Covid all winter and just sitting there waiting in cold boredom?
I am unsure which is better.
I wonder if I could find a boat broker to sell WildChild for me…?
I wonder if I will find new crew soon…?
I wonder what tomorrow will bring…
Cheers sailors
Captain Lexi….
.. …………….. the currently starving shakey weak girl alone ……