Fantasy Land
10 February 2011 | Half Moon Bay (Little San Salvador)
Deborah
2011-02-10
Fantasy Land
“Where no sea runs, the waters of the heart
Push in their tides.” – Dylan Thomas, “Light breaks where no sun shines”
At time of 7:30AM announced the familiarity of our days upon the water. Perhaps a bedtime earlier than my Grand Daughters was the culprit to explain why my eyes continued to pop open to see only darkness. Our established routine witnessed Ed at the bow of Ariel while I assumed the helm. Ed directed the windlass to raise the anchor at the same time as I stood ready to motor away from our night time location. I drove Ariel following the dotted line prescribed by the chart plotter. Ed checked levels and equipment so the routine was tried and proven. The morning is beautiful, a perfect day to be on the water. The conditions were favourable – wind at 13 to 15 knots, seas moderate, however, the direction of the wind did not encourage sailing.
All thoughts of sailing were swallowed by the coral head mine field we were forced to navigate in order to be on course for Half Moon Bay. Only a shadow blackened the turquoise water hinting at the unsuspected deadly growth. Even the chart plotter deserted us with her magenta line drawn straight through or beside coral heads. We were left to our own devises. Ed took to the bow while I continued to steer Ariel. If you have ever had the opportunity to be at the helm of a 23,000 lb sailboat, with a full six foot keel, you know she was not capable of turning on a dime. In fact, some turns were a work out of yanking the wheel as far left as possible followed by a quick direction change, all the while whispering encouraging promises to Ariel and the sea gods.
Ed devised a serious of hand signals pointing to the jagged black coral menacingly poking through the turquoise water. At times we were upon them with a short reaction time permitted. I refused to permit my mind to consider the damage one of those jagged forms could create. He pointed left and I swung the wheel right. He pointed right and I swung her left. We forged ahead. I panicked. Did Ed’s raised arm mean left or right? Ed scratched his head. New rule of navigation – no scratching any body part until we exited the mine field of coral heads! The trial of endurance ended after two hours and I felt air racing into my lungs as I heaved a heavy sigh. We were safe! We were through the area with no battle scars.
Our Buddy Boat, Pelican Rose left us dancing through the gentle rollers to head for a marina and fuel. Ed grinned as he hoisted the sails. Ed was in his element. A new fleet of fellow vessels surrounded as with their massive height, girth and weight. Cruise ships joined our trek to Half Moon Bay. One stopped and anchored and we watched the passengers disembark to “play” at the sand beach resort. We passed the floating city and felt like a cork on the water. The captains of all the cruise liners were most respectful of our little sailboat under sail. I bet we are featured in a few thousand pictures that folks were snapping from the decks. The SV Ariel was a grand picture under sail.
Our sailboat moved into a sheltered cove where restless waters smacked at the rocky edge. The closer we edged to shore the calmer the welcoming water lapped until it reached the white talcum beach. The vision encompassed a beach paradise complete with a building constructed like a pirate ship flying a black skull and cross bone flag. My imagination played in all the features offered to the pirate loving guests. Welcome to the Holland America Cruise Ship haven. The beach of white, talc sand stretched for miles. Sharing the isolated cove with a catamaran seemed hospitable. A three masted galleon drifted up and down the coast of Half Moon Bay searching the shoreline for a night home. Finally her anchor slapped the water and she was content. The day closed with a sailor’s delight painted in the sky and we hoped for another eventful day as we travel to Cat Island.