My first overnight passage
13 December 2011 | 41 34.0'S:73 46.0'W, Chilean Costal
DAY 1 and 1/2 The thought, "What have I gotten myself into?", crossed my mind often during the few waking moments of my first overnight ocean sail. Let me explain. Sailing is not all fun and games, much like life. Sometimes it just stinks. So out of the Valdivia river and into the Bahia Corral, I felt the usual queasiness, nothing too extreme or unbearable. The evening sun was pleasant, the waves five or six feet well spread out. Jeff and Sven said that I was to relax and enjoy the sail, which as we rounded the land mass and headed south became a little more difficult, as the swells were larger and longer rolling right along and we riding them like a little bathtub toy. It is funny how big Hekla looks in a marina and how small she looks out on the open ocean. I didn't feel much like cooking dinner, so we ate peanuts. Keeping a little bit of food in my stomach seemed to help. The ginger vodka that Jeff made as medicine definitely did not work! Even Sven declined the stuff remarking that it was too strong for him. Seasickness for me is somewhat like morning sickness, except it doesn't go away. At some point, the allure of seeing stars and bioluminescence could not compete with the awful feeling, so I went to sleep. I woke up briefly the next late morning, had a few more peanuts, felt a lot worse and went right back to bed. Being prone with eyes closed seemed to help which is contrary to the advice about motion sickness of facing forward in the breeze watching the horizon. I admit I was wondering if I should return back to Colorado, a land locked state, back to my life of solid dirt beneath my feet. I began fantasizing about the good old life of growing green things. Jeff and Sven thought I looked green. If they only knew what I was really thinking. I kept telling myself, "this too shall pass", but pearls of wisdom in the midst of feeling like _ _ _ _ are sometimes too easily swallowed and passed right through without having much affect. We stopped. We dropped the anchor. We had sailed from the Oc┬┤ano Pacifico into the small bay, Bah┬'a Maull┬'n, and almost immediately, I felt better. Everything was calm and peaceful. I felt so much better that two hours later I agreed to continue our sailing adventure through the Canal Chacao into the Golfo De Ancud. Silly me.