To Somewhere And Back

The following day conditions continued to worsen but there was no explanation as to why, either on their Weather Fax or Radio and this unexpected change started just the second day following the reports of calm over this entire region that was expected to hold.  It was as though nobody was minding the store or wanted to acknowledge this storm was happening. The mainsail had been blown out, several long horizontal tears made it useless, so what remained Robin tied to the boom and the boom secured to the gallows so nothing is free to swing around above deck. The only sail now flying was the small, heavy duty, storm-sail secured with two preset sheets of ¾ inch lines and hoisted up the mast to a preset location on its separate track. This kept Cirrus stabilized with the wheel lashed hard over, opposing the sail direction. Robin also set the two running backstays adding the extra support really needed for the mast itself.  By 1400 heavy rainsqualls keep hitting Cirrus with sustained winds in the 50’s, gusting into the 60’s. Robin put Cirrus on different tacks a couple of times for the Sat-Nav indicated a slow drift backwards. Later that evening Robin put on his Wet Suit, made his way into the cockpit, which by now was no place for man or beast, started the engine to motor sail as best he could, wanting to make as much headway toward the port side as possible, one more time. Alice had spelled him off a couple of times earlier doing this same thing, so she was pretty much wrung out. With Danger Point off the stern, Robin wanted to make sure Cirrus would clear that area with the drift they had been experiencing. The best estimate he could give for wave heights at that time was a minimum of 30 feet, but with the heavy rain, wind, breaking seas and all, visibility made it impossible to be more accurate. They had read where 55ft. was not unusual in that region. Another way Robin could put it is as Alice had noted in a previous storm, they are Horrendous, and not a pretty sight for the faint of heart. This was a no nonsense situation, definitely not a weekend sail. But everything on the boat was working just like expected, even the engine, now if the crew can hold up just as well, all should survive.

Not surprisingly he realized his thoughts turned temporarily along the line of his relationship with God… asking for help. Having been active in a protestant church during his school years but with age and travel he began to see God as a power or belief too universal to be labeled. Then witnessing the visual power and magnitude of the oceans it deepened his awareness of Faith, Love and Forgiveness. Add having navigated over 3,000 miles at sea, with no direction signs, by the precision of the stars and planets confirmed a stronger power of a magnitude beyond his conception. This deepened his Faith and Trust from his earlier years when he only gave little more than lip service. Now acknowledging he believed in God but sure couldn’t define him for like the sea it is of such an enormous magnitude it requires acceptances rather than mans capability to understand.

Reaching midnight Robin was exhausted, having been on this final watch for almost three hours and there is no question strain was showing on both of the crew for this had developed into a life threatening situation. Cirrus was Hove To, the engine shut down and everything looking good considering the mess they are in. Robin stowed his wet gear in a cockpit seat locker and went below to rest. He stretched out on the port berth, hearing Alice say she’s fixing the other bunk for him since it’s a little wider. That’s the last he remembered for a few hours.

Relating what Alice told him later and entered in her journal, is still disquieting… ‘I had just finished fixing the starboard berth, and was holding two solid handholds to stabilize myself at the foot of the companionway, when I turned towards Robin saying “Move over to the other berth, it will be more comfortable.” Right then, I saw him literally rise vertically up out of the port bunk, move horizontally, just like in a magic act, on across the ceiling, hit the starboard wall and drop straight down into that berth.