Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
was no more than a stout piece of marine plywood with some very strong halyard rope
stropped through it and joined together by a large stainless steel shackle. To this I attached
the main halyard, and Gavin assisted in hoisting me up to the very top where the faulty
light was situated.
I attached a canvass tool bag to the bosun's chair and put in the tools and spares I imagined
I would need. Up I went. I assisted Gavin as much as I could, taking off my weight as he
cranked on the halyard winch handle. About halfway up, the movement of the boat had me
swinging back and forth, and I had to hold on for dear life. When I finally got to the top of
the mast, a mere thirty-three feet off the deck, I could see forever it seemed. The movement
was very rough, and the wind was a lot stronger up there than at deck level. One could
imagine an upside down pendulum drawing concentric circles in the sky as the boat nod-
ded onwards in her path. It was lovely to look down on the shapely main sail and admire
the well-cut lines as well as the leg o' mutton shaped jib. The sails whooshed quietly on
with their never-ending job of creating two uneven planes of pressure and sucking us along
through this discrepancy.
Hanging on with all my strength, I managed to unscrew the plastic tricolor lens from its
base and then needed to take a break. I leaned up and removed the bayoneted light bulb
and saw it had a broken filament. I replaced it with a spare that I had brought up and yelled
down to Gavin, “Make sure I am properly belayed, and turn the nav lights on, please.”
“OK,” I heard from down below. I once had a young man help me with a similar task on
a mast at least twice as high, and he had merrily let go of the halyard which quickly spun
around the winch and I just managed to grab on. Some people have not been so lucky and
have died or broken their backs.
The navigation light shone yellow in my face, and I yelled down again, “OK, it's fine, you
can let me down now.”
Carefully, he released the sheet and, using the winch as a break, slowly paid me down until
I was safely back on the deck.
The weather turned cold and cloudy; the wind remained a steady ten to fifteen knots, ideal
for sailing, but chilly up on deck. I found the weather depressing and retired to my bunk for
the day. I was hoping to be in Hawaii soon. I awoke from a wonderful, non-sailing dream
with a craving for bread, fresh, warm-from-the-oven bread. Well, I could dream. Wait a
minute, it was possible! I scrambled out of my bunk.
One of the items we were able to get a lot of in the Galapagos Islands was dried corn. We
had purchased several large bags as it was cheap and easy to cook in our pressure cooker.
I silently went to the galley and fished out a bag of it. I then found the heavy, old pressure
