Ever since Scott was little, he’s liked to take things apart and sometimes put them together again.
This tendency, I think, led him to become a mechanical engineer. I became acutely aware of how helpful, if at time somewhat maddening, this trait is on our offshore passage to Eleuthera from Little Harbour, Abacos.
We were sailing along, just near our friends on Painkiller, when I noticed a sighing from the engine. Then it was a kind of sick-like coughing. I asked Scott if he heard that and he said he didn’t. (He confessed later he was in denial).
He told me just to increase the throttle a bit. I did. It died.
We already had had the mainsail up and the Neptune was blessing us with 10 to 15 knots of warm wind, and a light chop. Scott quickly unfurled the genny and we started to slip along, eventually going faster under motorsail, up to 7 knots.
He and Aidan dove down below and started troubleshooting. He changed one fuel filter, tried the engine, and it sputtered and died.
At this point, I started to worry a bit. But I needn’t have. Scott and Aidan then replaced the second fuel filter (never hurts to have a bunch of spare parts around) while I tried to keep Messenger as much on course as possible and steady as they bounced around with their heads down around the engine and the diesel fumes.
It worked. I was never so grateful for Scott’s skill as that moment.
We caught up to Painkiller and we hurried to our anchorage at Royal Island in Eleuthera. A blow was coming. What we didn’t know was just how big it was going to be.
We got into the anchorage which has with it varied holding. Our Rocna is a terrific anchor with 100 feet of 5/16th chain. It has held in many different bottoms and in winds so far of up to 35 knots in tough spots.
We set the anchor a bit closer to shore than Painkiller and about two hours later, Scott thought it had dragged a bit. I was in denial this time, and shrugged it off. By now it was blowing 20 knots and didn’t relish the idea of trying to reset it in those conditions.
I talked him out of it and we settled in. We were watching a movie and Scott positioned himself on the salon berth to keep an eye on the anchor alarm up in the cockpit.
Suddenly Scott leapt up and yelled ‘We’re dragging! We’re dragging!” He ran up and turned on the engine, I took the helm and he rushed to the bow. Aidan followed close behind, threw on a lifejacket and went up to help him.
By now, the wind was howling, pushing 25 to 30 knots. Finally the anchor was up and we made our way in the black to a spot, guided by Elizabeth holding our faulty spotlight (turns out a fuse was going).
We set the anchor just as the wind was building. Scott and Aidan worked their way back into the cockpit and we were just going down into the cabin when the wind really hit us - thunder, lightening, sheets of rain and gusts up to 40. The Rocna didn’t fail us this time, we held fast.
We were rattled though and Scott and I took turns through the night keeping an eye on the anchor alarm.
By morning we were all a bit wiped out, the wind was still blowing 20 knots or more until today when we had a terrific sail from the anchorage where we had been boat-bound to Spanish Wells where three of us who were at Royal Island took docks.
Another front is heading our way so we think we may hunker down here until it leaves us hopefully Wednesday. Spanish Wells is a picturesque village with beautiful homes and a lobster fishing fleet that apparently serves the Red Lobster restaurant chain. There is also a ferry to nearby Harbour Island and a gorgeous protected ocean beach.
We walked around the village today, had lunch at a neat little spot with four other couples from the marina, we’ve made friends quickly here, and collected some seashells.
Time to catch our breath.
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