A Mother’s Day Narrative for Mother Ocean 2007

This Mother’s Day I called my mom to wish her the appropriate, although belated, salutations and check on her week at her retirement village. During our conversation she asked how my recent yacht delivery went. “Great Mom. It was definitely an adventure” “Oh good, tell me all about it so I can share it at dinner. My table mates love to hear about my children”, she said. “Yea, sure they do Mom. Be sure to pull out the birthday slide shows too! Sorry Mom. Let me make some notes and I’ll email them to you and you can share it with your friends. Bye Mom.” From Captain’s Log on Tuesday, May 5^th

Terry, Jeff, and I fly out of Greenville, NC to Charlotte, NC, and then on to West Palm Beach, FL. No one tells me that Terry doesn’t like to fly. Terry is as salty a dog as you will meet. He’s a cross between Charles Manson, Mother Teresa, and a deck hand on Discovery Channel‘s “World‘s Deadliest Catch“. He’s got Charlie’s charisma, but thank God he’s got the heart of a saint. He also moves on a pitching boat like he was born with Velcro on the bottoms of his feet. But the prospect of an airplane ride brings Terry to his knees. By the time we reached our gate at Charlotte for our 0830 connection, the sports bar is open and following the advise of our flight attendant from the Greenville hop, Terry downs three Bloody Mary’s in fifteen minutes and chases it with a chill pill. As our Boeing 737 lifts off Terry is still on his knees but is smiling at everyone and singing Buffet tunes while plugging his ipod into the overhead fresh air nozzle. I think I saw him tip the pilot a five as we deplaned. 　

Upon arrival at West Palm, we are met by the owner Frank and transported to his 42 foot Alpa ketch, Pratolina. Frank is a cross between Willie Nelson and Panama Jack in appearance. He can be the life of a party and is a legend on the Pamlico from the recounting of his real and often exaggerated social exploits at regattas and sailing socials. I have known Frank for more than thirty years and I can unequivocally say that if I ever am in need, Frank will be there. His friendship is one of my most valued treasures.

After a brief rest, some lunch at the Tiki Bar and a beverage or two, Jeff and I hop a car and shop for provisions while Frank and Terry secure the deck in preparation for our offshore passage making. A couple of hours later we stow our provisions and assist in the final deck preparations. We then return to the Tiki Bar and are treated by Terry to “Pig Night at the Tiki“, a pit cooked pig that someone with a sick sense of humor calls Carolina style BBQ. This sad fare’s only redemption is the Kalik five beer bucket special. “Honest officer, I only had two specials”. By 2100 we hit the racks, secure in the knowledge that all that could be done has been done. From Captain’s Log on Wednesday, May 6^th

At 0630 sunrise on the Riviera Beach Yacht Basin finds our crew ready to depart. However, a medical concern is brought to my attention and, after talking with Frank, it is agreed that we will hold departure until satisfied the trip will present no undue risk to crew or the affected crew member has other transportation arrangements. By noon we get the “All Clear” from the medical front and lines are cast off at 1330hrs. The West Palm sea buoy is cleared at 1400hrs. with Frank on the first three hour watch, Terry taking the next, Jeff, and then me.

Winds are 10k - 15k out of the SE with seas 2’ - 4’, building to 4’ - 6’ and the Gulf Stream is soon pushing Pratolina at 7.5K - 8.5k with several 9k’s recorded. Jeff, our neophyte, gets a little uneasy after several hours of bumpy water, but avoids the mal de mar finale and is soon one hundred percent. Although a veteran of four years in the U S Coast Guard, fully coxswain qualified, and a licensed master, this is Jeff’s first experience on an offshore sailing vessel. I had met Jeff only a few weeks before, on the ninety-eight ton charter vessel Belle of Washington. We had both been approached to help get her ready for service on the Pamlico and to facilitate crew training and Coast Guard inspections. When learning of my yacht delivery business, Jeff expressed an interest in adding sailing to his maritime resume. Now, I am not normally inclined to accept crew on a sailing delivery that has no sailing skills, but I felt his navigation and boat handling training, combined with his military and law enforcement background would serve us well. I was not wrong. Besides, Jeff is a bass player, likes jazz, blues, R and B, and has a son that plays sax. Ok, I forgive the sax choice, but he really seemed like the right choice.

The entire 33 hour sail to Charleston is made without auxiliary power, except to charge the batteries. The moon is bigger and brighter every evening and I can truly say that I have never experienced more quality sailing for that length of time. This is absolutely my first Florida to Charleston run under sail alone! From Captain’s Log on Thursday, May 7^th

The day dawns clear, warm, windy, and bumpy and we finally start to see dolphin. Terry is at the helm and calls attention to dolphin coming at us from the east. I hurry to the bowsprit to watch the cavorting on our pressure wave and try to call them with high whistling. Terry joins me on the bow when Frank relieves him at the helm and he brings a camera to record an event that has put a smile on many a sailors face. As I dangle my bare feet from the bowsprit, a large male rolls up and touches me with his dorsal fin. He then shoots off, banks on our bow wave and returns to do it again. The first touch may have been an accident, but the second was surely intentional. This pod stays with us for over an hour and we are able to see identity tags on three of six dolphins located just under the tip of the trailing edge of their dorsal fin.

Our farthest offshore plot is about 75km at a depth of 1200’ and this is the area we encounter sea mammals that were new to me. The general consensus is pilot whales, but the large dorsal fin bothers me. I actually think killer whale (orca), but know that is not right either. I made a mental note to look up in my American Cetacean Society Whale Identification Chart a creature with a pilot whale head and an orca fin. What we actually see is Russo’s dolphins, also known as Grampus, one of the larger members of the dolphin family. They are usually an offshore dolphin whose inshore appearance is uncommon.

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: This is a relatively robust dolphin with a rounded head, similar in shape to the more familiar pilot whale. They have an unusual external vertical crease in the melon (the organ in the rounded head used to direct sonar clicks) that runs from the front of the forehead to the mouth.

From Captain’s Log on Friday, May 8^th

Seas build till just before dawn then drop back to 2’ - 4’ but we are out of ice, and a water leak under the galley sink forces us to use our emergency water reserves. After some discussion we agree that Charleston is a must stop. We set course for the gate and anticipate a late evening approach.

A plotting error sets the boat and crew up for the most unnerving moment of the delivery. Pratolina is headed directly for the southern rock jetty at Charleston’s entrance. With only moments to spare, some good luck, good night vision, and fast crew work, the disaster is averted. Lessons learned:

1. Always check your waypoints.

2. If you change a waypoint, inform the next watch.

3. Check the waypoint change again with the navigator that plotted the original course. There was probably a reason for the original plot. We enter Charleston’s busy approach channel to heavy commercial traffic and weave our way past a dark Fort Sumter and a quiet Battery Park. But as we expertly slip into a hole between two mega yachts, Charleston greets us with a wondrous fireworks display as if to say, “Welcome boys. Ya’ll done real good!“ By 2230 we are tied up on the famous Mega Docks of Charleston, SC and wisely take our first break from the perils of ocean voyaging 　

From Captain’s Log on Saturday, May 9^th

After fuel, water, ice, and the triple S, Pratolia shakes off her ties to land and once again heads for the open ocean. Upon clearing the gate that marks the jetty we set course for Frying Pan Shoal’s two eastern most lights. We predict clearing this formidable hazard in the wee small hours of the morning and adjust our watches accordingly. The National Weather Service (NWS) is calling for wind 10k -15k and 4’ - 6’ seas today, increasing to 15k - 20k with 6’ - 8’ tomorrow, but direction should hold a steady SE to SW through Sunday morning. We are confident that boat and crew are up for the challenge. We are treated to dolphins off and on all day, often for an hour or more.

Spanish mackerel is the target of our trolling gold Clark’s spoon and it’s not too long before we are rewarded with the excitement of a zzzzinging reel. Sure enough, after Terry skillfully plays the fish in while the boat is doing 7k, a 3 pound Spanish is in the cooler and everyone is looking forward to the freshest seafood you can get. We reset and, not long after, loose our rig to a monster (probably king) with a too tight drag set. Wind and seas continue to build, and comfort is hard to find on or off watch. and when the moon finally rises in the East we know that cooking will have to wait for Sunday.

The moon rises to treat us to something very few people will ever see. Imagine standing in the cockpit of a boat, looking back and up from the bottom of a trough and up the face of a wave that seems to tower over the mizzen mast. You are convinced that a the wall of sea water is destined to drop right on top of your head. The first time this happens you will hold your breath in anticipation. We all do. After experiencing the stern lift ever so gracefully to release that wall of sea water under the skirts of your boat, you begin to exhale. After experiencing this hundreds of times during your watch, you start to marvel at the sight and feel of surfing on a 15 ton surfboard down sixteen feet of wave face in a thousand feet of water. I have experienced several many time and am always awed by it. But I was not prepared for the rest of the story.

During the worst of the wind (steady 20k) and waves *(fully 6 - 8), we are joined by dolphins, dozens of dolphins. I was reminded of those fantasy sea life’s that depict whales and sharks swimming peacefully among coral heads while leaping dolphin are silhouetted by a full moon. Three dolphin simultaneously leap seemingly over our pulpit followed by a smaller fourth, their silhouettes caught in the largest, brightest moon I have ever seen. Then, for what seemed half an hour, we watch dolphin after dolphin race by, leap from wave to wave, turn and surf on our bow wave, and even jump from the back side of a huge roller ahead of us to a trailing wave on our beam. The entire crew watched in awe as this wondrous production unfolds. Happy Mother’s Day Mother Ocean.From Captain’s Log on Sunday, May 10^th

Soon after our new dolphin friends depart, the weather began to moderate. The wind starts to ease and the sea begins to lay down. Our new course is Beaufort Inlet and with NWS having batted a thousand all week we set our course more inland to pick up the predicted header later in the afternoon. Terry cleanes our mackerel and cooks a lunch that is unbelievable. Four grown men eat green beans, corn, and two generous filets each from one fish. We catch and release several albacore and boat one more mackerel as we motor into Beaufort, NC.

At 1730, with Frank overseeing our docking, me at the helm, and Jeff and Terry on the lines, we spin Pratolina around in the small boat basin of Beaufort’s Town Docks, and ease her stern first into the end of our six day odyssey. Our adventure is at an end.

This delivery was truly an adventure for me and the crew aboard S/V Pratolina. This adventure had magical moments that will live forever and grow in the telling. I think every soul on board the S/V Pratolia is a little different today because of what we experienced on that last night of our six day sailing odyssey. Every one of us will remember vividly the sights we shared on that evening. From the most experienced seafarer to the newly initiated, each of us will hold the adventure of that last glorious night at sea on Mother’s Day with Mother Ocean in our hearts forever, and we will call upon our adventure when we most needed.