Today I decided to try a different lure on my fishing line. It still took all day of looking at the lines and assuming I was never going to catch a fish. I’ve been fishing for about a week now, except for the time we were anchored. I’m a troller, or that’s what I’ve been called, or was that a troll? Anyway, finally, after a week of fishing, we were rewarded with a 2 foot Wahoo, which will definitely help our dwindling provisions. It looks to be about 5-7 lbs of delicious white fish.
Carol and I had planned to reprovision in one of the last anchorages in Madagascar but the plans got changed and storms were a comin’ so we ended up leaving before we had a chance to restock the fridge with a few things.
Don’t get me wrong we aren’t going to be starving or anything. We will run out of the fresh things we typically eat, such as eggs, oatmeal, fresh and frozen meat and some veggies like squash, carrots, green beans, tomatoes. Basically all of our fresh ingredients will get depleted except for maybe garlic and onions. And we’ll start digging into our canned goods which we’ve always had. We never use them because we always try to have fresh or frozen ingredients on hand.
Not a lot happened today other than catching and cleaning fish and a whole lot of sailing. We’re on the same tack I reported from last night. We still haven’t made the turn or run into land and we’ve been sailing all day.
I did discover a new author I really like, John Kretschmer. He’s a sailor and writes about out sailing. I haven’t even purchased his book, but downloaded a sample on Kindle to see if I would like it. I love his writing style and his descriptions are fantastic. Here’s a quote I grabbed from the sample. Quetzel is his boat.
“The ride was thrilling, especially when we caught a breaking wave off the stern quarter. At that moment Quetzal would lift slowly, like a whale ruffling the surface just before breeching, and then surge forward surfing and squirming but still tracking true, leaving a trail of bioluminescence. When the wave finally overtook her, stranding her in the suddenly windless trough, she’d wallow for a split second and then dig her shoulders into the sea like a running back expecting contact after a nice gain.” John Kretschmer, Sailing a Serious Ocean
I love the way he describes this moment. I’ve searched for similar ways of describing what I’m experiencing and it almost ticks me off how well he does it.
I’ll be purchasing this and a couple of his other books as soon as I get some Internet. The descriptions alone are enough for me to buy his books.
(6-8 hours of sleep)
On watch this morning from 4 am to 8. Last night as I was drifting off to sleep I decided to record the noise I can hear from the vberth or as I like to call it the fish tank. The walls are thin enough on these fiberglass boats, you can put your hand on them and feel the water rushing by. And the noise that comes from the water rushing by, the chain and other items jostling in the anchor locker (which is about a foot from my head) as we bounce around, and the noise of the jib sail whipping and yanking against the furler and sheets (which again is feet from my head) all create quite the racket. Add to that the heel and movement of the boat and it’s no wonder I sometimes take something to sleep at night. We’ve been on the same port tack (with the wind coming over our port (left) side and the sails filled with wind on our starboard (right) side) for over 24 hours and the only way to sleep is with a pillow propped up against the wall on the starboard side, as at times the wall feels almost like the floor of the room. Between leaning over in that direction and the centrifugal force pushing you to that side of the boat, the wall might as well be the floor. Walking around the boat is also quite comical. Reminds me of a Buster Keaton movie.
It’s 5:30 AM now and all is well. We are 145 miles from Bazaruto and currently doing 6-7 knots with a relatively flat sea. It’s a little chilly. I’m wearing my fleece Patagonia jacket and shorts, no shoes, so it’s not too cold. Couldn’t ask for better sailing conditions. The sky is clear and I am starting to see the orange, reds, and yellows of the rising sun on the horizon. Time to get my camera out. This is the best reason for working this shift..
It’s now 6:37 and all is well. The sunrise was glorious. No surprise there but there was a big red “whale cloud” as part of the treat. I hope I captured it well enough. I forgot to mention that the wind shifted last night, allowing us to make the turn but maintain port tack we’ve been on since Tuesday. We’ve been amazed that we haven’t had to use our motor once since we left. We planned on using it part of the way on this passage, but we’d prefer not doing so.
Thanks for coming along on the adventure with me. And thanks in advance for your comments and questions. Don’t forget to follow along by subscribing by email or following me on Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter by searching for Living Large by Living Little. I typically post a link for those, but since I’ve been without Internet and posting by email for a few days I thought I’d tell you how to find them the old fashioned way. I apologize for the lack of photos, but I promise when I get back to Wi-Fi Land I’ll post pics I’ve taken along the way.