Sheryl and I were up with the sun and Stephanie was not far behind. Sheryl and I started what was to be our daily morning ritual of brushing our teeth and covering our bodies from head to toe with sunscreen, no less than SPF45. I believe that this practice saved us from having some miserable burns from the relentless Belizian sun.

During the previous evening's discussions, it was obvious that there was a difference of opinion regarding how much 'bottled' water to bring on board the boat. A five-gallon jug had already been brought on board the previous day, the type you frequently see inverted into the office water cooler. Stephanie felt like more water would be necessary, Bruno disagreed. Sheryl quietly sided with Steph and I played like Switzerland, totally neutral on the subject. Bruno's argument was that our first destination, a short half-day's sail, would be a place where we could pick up more water. This time, however, Steph won out over the Captain. I guess I was wrong about her being the First Mate. Apparently, she is the Admiral.

Despite my neutral position on the subject, I was willing and ready to lend my muscle to the endeavor; therefore, prior to departure, I helped Stephanie haul another 5 gallon jug and a bag of little water bags back to Artemesia. Stephanie stowed the bagged water and lashed the two big jugs securely under the forward berth, as Bruno made a subtle joke about depositing one of the empty containers at our next destination, like we were going to use 5 gallons in one day, ha. Little did he realize that we would.

With all the preparations complete, we were finally ready to sail. I was elected to handle the bow line, due to the fact that my long legs would be advantageous when jumping from the dock to the boat. From that point things seemed to happen very quickly. Steph untied the stern line and I untied the bow line. Bruno eased the boat back, fighting the breeze and the prop walk which were both pushing the boat away from the dock. As the beam, or widest part of the boat passed the end of the dock, Stephanie deftly jumped aboard. As my time came to jump aboard, I had a momentary hesitation. Where, exactly, was I supposed to jump to? The side of the boat had lifelines, which blocked my ability to land sure-footed on the deck of the boat. Sheryl saw the hesitation in my eyes and, with an outstretched hand, shouted a firm, "Jump now!" Now let me explain that I have a bit of size advantage over my wife. About a foot in height and at least 50 pounds of advantage. Regardless of that difference, my wife is one of the strongest and toughest people I know. Her shout removed all hesitation in my mind. I leapt to the toe rail, firmly clasped her hand and she pulled me aboard. Disaster had been averted. Thanks to Sheryl I was not left at the dock while Artemesia sailed off to points south.

Stephanie took the bow watch as Bruno motored us through a meandering path dictated by the shallow water. Shortly, we were in deep water and Steph took the wheel and turned us into the wind while Bruno raised the sails. It was an elegant display of teamwork. Each knowing what was expected of them and what to expect from the other. My concerns about their ability to work together without disagreement began to fade. Soon the engine was off and we were sailing, at last.

Although I may never succeed in my attempt to relate with mere words the feeling of moving before the wind, please humor me in my endeavor to capture what I can of the experience. This was the first time I had been on a sailboat which was really sailing, six to seven knots. I had expected it to be a silent experience. It wasn't. The sounds were delightful. The wind rushing past my ears, the whoosh of the boat cutting through the water, the gurgle of wake, all truly delightful sounds. It was a powerful sensation, harnessing the wind to move such a large object. Two pieces of thin material were arranged in just such a way to drive a 15,000-lb boat through these choppy waters. Although I can generally appreciate the physics involved, it still seemed somewhat magical. I was awestruck. Throughout the sailing opportunities afforded us during the remainder of the 10-day vacation, I remained awestruck. It is my hope that I will return to experience the sensation many, many times in years to come. I also hope that the awe will not be diminished by time and experience.

Our ever-considerate hosts wanted to ease us into the process of moving the boat under sail with a short sail for the first day, planned to be 3-4 hours. In addition, we stayed inside the reef which runs the length of Belize. That kept the size of the waves down and made for a nice smooth ride to our destination, Caye Caulker. The travel books describe Caye Caulker as an island with back-packer style accomodations. In the vain of true cruisers, we did not know how long we were going to stay. We would just explore and let our findings and the weather dictate the next steps. First, however, we needed to reach our destination. Perhaps due to our unbridled enthusiasm, and the faux impression of knowledge presented by all of our book learning efforts, Bruno was soon to give me an opportunity at the helm. If the experience of moving under sail was exhillerating, I cannot find an adjective to communicate the experience of being behind the wheel. Wow!

Bruno gave me the simple instruction of steering the boat on the course indicated on the GPS. I tried to make her go the way the arrow was pointing on the GPS, but the tendency to overcorrect was obvious from my meandering wake. Stephanie was a little more forthcoming with suggestions about how to handle the wheel. Eventually, I felt as though I had the hang of it. I had us on course, until there there appeared to be some debate about the course itself. We were using a book titled, Cruising Guide to Belize and Mexico's Caribbean Coast including Guatemala's Rio Dulce by Captain Freya Rausche. This guide appears to be the bible for cruisers in that area, and it was an invaluable source of information; however, it was last updated in 1995 and included charts which are "Not to be used for Navigation." As I later discovered, use of these charts despite the warnings can lead to errors approaching 1 nautical mile.

Just as I was getting somewhat comfortable at the helm, the digital depth sounder started registering some alarming numbers. 5 feet, 4.5 feet,. Did I mention that Artemesia draws 5'8"? Stephanie indicated that we should not worry, because the depth reading is dependent upon the position of the sounding equipment on the boat. Her words said don't worry, but her eyes betrayed that confidence. Bruno headed out on the bow to check out the situation. Shortly thereafter, Steph said, "Did you hear that?" referring to a soft shhhhh sound which indicated that we had touched the bottom. Before I could nod a response, a longer, more pronounced shhhhhhhhh sound preceded a drop in our velocity from 4.2 knots to 0.0 knots. I had run us aground.

My turn at the helm was done, and it was time for the real Captain and crew of the Artemesia to go to work. Sheryl, Steph and I served as ballast, hanging off the boom to help heel the boat while Bruno attempted to motor us off the shallows. No luck. I felt a bit of panic, considering that I had read about a couple who went aground in the Intracoastal Waterway and had to be pulled out by SeaTow. We appeared to be a long way from such assistance. The next strategy employed was for Steph to take the wheel and Bruno to join us as ballast. The additional mass, along with a series of forward and reverse movements with the engine soon had us under sail with plenty of water beneath the keel. Although I was quite relieved to be in motion once again, dashed were all of my hopes that I would have a natural inclination, nay perhaps even an undiscovered gift as a sailor. It looks like any skills I obtain for moving about on the water are going to be hard won. Thankfully, I made a wise choice when I married. Although it was certainly not even remotely among my selection criteria for a spouse, my wife seems to have lived a past life behind the wheel of a schooner. Whenever Sheryl had the chance to take the helm, she drove her straight and true, even in the 3-5 foot waves we encountered outside the reef. Although those waves are not regarded as big by most blue-water sailors, they were huge for us. Neither big waves nor weather helm seemed to dissuade Sheryl from her pursuit of keeping us on course. She seems to be a natural. I suppose I will have to focus on making a contribution as a navigator.

We finally arrived at the anchorage site in Caye Caulker. We selected a spot which would provide us a breeze through a split at the end of the main island. The spot was idyllic. We dropped anchor and Bruno swam out a second anchor, just to be safe. I then lent assistance as Bruno assembled and inflated the dinghy. I was bound and determined to learn the skills needed to be able to contribute to around the boat. Essentially, I was looking for a promotion. I wanted to advance from water-carrying, ballast boy to dinghy, second anchor boy. That is a career with a future.

Once the anchor was down and the dinghy was in the water, it was time to see how well their two-man inflatable with a little 2.5 horsepower motor would handle four adults. The little dink did just fine and we tied up to a dock and began to wander in the direction of the other side of the island. As we passed a warehouse with stacks of the 5-gallon water bottles, Bruno inquired as to whether the ladies needed another. Fortunately, before it could become an issue, we were distracted by a group of tourists off a cruise ship who passing us in the other direction. They were inquiring about where the "downtown" was. We indicted that if they must have missed it, because there was only a small boat dock in the direction from which we had come. Caye Caulker is a small island with only one main road, a fine, dusty sand road at that. I think that the expectations of the cruise ship visitors was beyond what this little island had to offer. We, on the other hand, could not be happier with the surroundings. Bruno and I stopped at a local establishment for a libation while the ladies did a little exploring in the local shops. We had two goals we hoped to achieve with this first visit to Caye Caulker: 1) we hoped to learn more about good places to snorkel, and 2) we were hopeful that we may happen upon a sand volleyball court and perhaps entice some others to join us in a game. On the first count, we found out that one must have a chaperone to go out to the reef, since it is a protected national park. On the second, the best we could find was a volleyball net which was several feet out in the water, and no one around who owned a volleyball. We decided to have a drink and plan out our strategy for the day tomorrow. We found a perfect spot at the Lazy Lizard, located at "the split." Over a few Belikins, local Belizian beers, for the gents and rum margaritas for the ladies, it was decided that we would go out with one of the tour groups the next day so that we could snorkel along the reef.