#55 / 2005 Tour 3: Montezuma's Revenge

THE OVERNIGHTER

#55


There was a point of land coming out of Caleta that we had to pass on our way to Barra de Navidad. The wind was blowing in from just the direction we wanted to go - not a good sign - so we had to tack left and right to go anywhere. It was slow moving. The Maya crew set out before lunch and by dark we could still see that damn point. The winds created rough waves in every direction, what Rick called a confused sea.

Joe got his first taste of seasickness and lay foreword in the berth all day, but he had to come back to the cockpit for our mandatory two hour watches that began at six pm, four bells, or 18:00 hours. We maintained these watches throughout the night while lashed to the cockpit with jack lines in case we fell overboard.

During the watch you have to look out for the lights of other ships large and small. We spotted enormous freighter ships upon the dark horizon and small shrimpers that we sometimes didn't see until they were right upon us. When I saw these ships I would take a flashlight and shine up into the main sail so we were easy to spot.

When we weren't on watch Joe laid curled up with a bucket in which to hurl his techno-colored yawns. When Rick took his first watch after midnight we just spread ourselves out on the deck to sleep with our serapes to cover us. I thought he was joking when he called us back in what seemed like just a few minutes. But indeed two hours had passed and it was two am, time for us to be back on watch. And so the long night droned on.

Finally morning came in a slow dance and Rick informed us that the winds had held us back so severely that it would take two more days to get to Barra de Navidad if we held course.

Exhausted and beginning to feel the first effects of Montezuma's Revenge for the first time since I started the trip, I sank with relief when he decided to tack another tack towards shore and head to Manzanillo.

Even so, Rick's boat is slow, it's a classic joke he says that they call WestSails "wet snails" and it still took us until late that night to arrive. Joe hadn't eaten in two days, and I, for the better part of one. It’s not so much the sea that gets me but the endless fumes, diesel fumes from the motor and coal oil fumes from the night lights below deck. 

I didn't even lift my head of the bunk when the captain announced that we had reached the port.

My neck hurt, my insides had turned to hot bilge water - what fantasy was this - whose dream is this anyway? I asked myself as I drifted off to sleep to the sound of some hip hop music from across the bay.