Meridian Sails

Guilty as charged.

I violated the first rule of safety at sea: I sailed to anchor out without personally checking the weather forecast. Yup, I relied upon someone else, a seasoned, savy sailor. Tip: Don't trust anyone!

Our forty-five pound Manson Supreme anchor proved to be no match for the gale force winds and seconds after the anchor drift alarm sounded, we found ourselves kissing the shore with the keel. Called SeaTow and they quickly responded in the dark and storm and hauled us to deeper water. We found another place and the anchor held, but we got no sleep keeping watch in case it failed again. We sailed home this morning after being cold, wet, and exhausted. The only good news is that I docked the Valentine as if it were an instructional film.

While the Manson is supposed to be adequate for our relatively light 40' boat, I'm going to retire our current spare and use the Manson as a spare. I'll order a sixty-five pound beast, the Mantus. If that doesn't hold fast, nothing will.

On another comical note, our highly-praised (by me) Torqeedo electric outboard motor failed completely and we had to row to our mate's boat (which still has no dinghy!) in fierce winds and currents. I called West Marine to report the failure; waiting for a call back to proceed. I hate gasoline anywhere near our boat, but Lehr does not make a long-shaft propane motor, so the only other choice for our Portland Pudgy dinghy is gas. Maybe I'll buy a little Honda and keep it for emergency use in case the Torqeedo fails again.

Never again. Luckily, we're OK, because breaking the rules at sea is all too often something you get to do only once.

I'm too tired to kick myself further, but will resume later.

Our beloved Valentine will be hauled out of the water tomorrow to protect her as well as we can from the new, soon to be named Nate, hurricane. It's just a tropical depression now, but sure to strengthen over the very warm Gulf waters.
I would prefer to sail away to safety, but this thing is coming too fast and the predicted arc of impact too wide to know where to run and I don't fancy another trick through near-hurricane winds and waves. I've been caught out there once, and it's more than sufficient.

Irma on my mind.

Hauling the Valentine out this week. We were planning to do this anyway to get the boat inspected, bottom painted, and keel and thru hulls checked before we take off for the islands, so it's not really an added expense. I just hate it when she's on the hard; Valentine always wants to be on the water, and so do Belinda and I.
We've got to remove the sails, the Bimini, the solar panels, and the kayak & stand up paddle boards, plus all our personal stuff, not a job that can be done in one trip! We'll be busy.

After a month of sailing, the Valentine has returned to Pensacola. The race to Havana was delayed by a day to avoid a fierce storm just outside the Government Cut and we expected a smooth easy sail for the five-hundred plus nautical miles. Unfortunately, the weather guessers got it very wrong and three days out we were battered by high short-period seas easily topping ten to twelve feet. Three of the experienced racers elected to turn east and try to make it to a safe harbor halfway down the Florida coast. Fortunately, they all made it safely.

We also decided to abandon the race, but after fighting the seas and realizing that we were actually headed into the storm by sailing east, we turned to starboard and headed for Cuba. Valentine suffered no damage from the storm and after a good battle with the Gulf Stream, we made it to the buoy marking the entrance to Hemingway Marina. The channel is short and straight, but very narrow with strong breakers over very shallow reefs on both sides, so the marina always sends a guide boat to take visitors safely in.

When we radioed in to the marina, we got the bad news that the guide boat was broken and we were advised to just sit tight. Because the sea state was bad and the reefs looming, I elected to go in on my own, which I did with no problems other than white-knuckles.

After an endless parade of very polite government officials, we were cleared in and found the marina to be old and a bit rough, but the staff was wonderful and we felt very well protected throughout our stay.

The race committee hosted a fantastic party that night with great food and quite liberally served rum drinks. I had only one Mojito, served in a water-sized glass and I don’t see how some of the sailors managed to down several.

The next morning we grabbed a vintage American car and defied death on the short drive to the old city in Havana. We found, without exception, the Cuban people to be every bit as friendly and helpful as we had been told. For a week we wandered all over Havana and never once felt any danger. If you have any chance at all of visiting, do it.

One of our four-man crew, David Smith, had to fly out from Havana, so Belinda and I with our guest, Kelli Lagos, sailed Valentine to Key West after a week in Cuba’s warm embrace. It was an epic sail, the fastest Valentine has ever logged; our hull speed is about seven and a half knots, but we averaged nine point one for the whole trip and saw a peak of eleven point seven; for you non-sailors, that is like flying. The Gulf Stream is no joke.

Kelli had to leave us in Key West, so Belinda and I sailed Valentine up the coast, stopping at Marco Island, Sanibel, Venice, and Saint Petersburg before cutting straight across to Pensacola and home. We had sailed this route before when we brought Valentine home from Annapolis, but this time we spent a few days enjoying each port. In Saint Petersburg we docked at the Yacht Club which extends privileges to our club, the Pensacola Yacht Club, and they treated us like visiting princes. They have a fabulous club and staff; I salute them.

Now to get to work preparing Valentine for her next adventure!