Night on passage

The three meter swell hitting our stern settled in as the sun set but my stomach was not settled. My mind was alive with worries for the days at sea ahead while the sea lulled me to sleep. The cockpit was nowhere near as comfy as my bed below deck, however the sea breeze took the edge of the tropical heat. Boat sounds become white noise at sea - autohelm whirring, waves on the hull, a random drink bottle rolling around. If I were to open my eyes I would see Pip’s red headlight, allowing her to see the ropes without comprising her night vision. It’s 2am but she sits, deep in thought, always with an eye on the horizon. There’s a blanket on me now, a sign of care from my fellow crew members. I rollover, back to my dreams.

Do you ever dream that you’re falling? Well I thought this was just that. But when I woke up I had slid off the seat, onto the deck, still tethered in with my life jacket. A 3am tack had been needed to keep us on track which meant I was now sleeping on the high side of the yacht. A change was needed if I was going to get some more sleep. The lower side had what I needed.

Between periods of sleep I could spot John by the helm staring deeply at the instruments. I know what he’s thinking- is there anyone we could crash into? Is this the quickest way to sail with this wind angle? He’s got a couple more hours before sunrise to figure that out.

My hand has found a little ledge, not much but enough to catch me whenever the swell tries to push me out of bed again.

It’s slightly unnerving being too far away to call for help. As the darkness slowly turns to light, it’s starting to sink in that if anything happened, help would get here in 12 hours - at the earliest. But there’s peace in that. We are self sufficient, one with the wind and the tide.

I make my conscious known to John with a stretch - you get a few aching muscles sleeping in an offshore cruising lifejacket. We recap my tumble at the mercy of the seas and his night of staring into the distance. Have you ever looked at something for so long that you start to imagine seeing things? Well it was well appreciated when Pip swapped John out.

Dark clouds turn pink and I can now see the swell which had been throwing me around in the night. Deep blue waves slowly roll past, there tops often crashing making whitecaps to intersperse the blue. One moment you’re above the waves looking out as far as eye can see, next it’s towering over you ominously before crashing, always seeming to narrowly avoid getting us drenched.

A different noise from within the boat signals life. A blonde head followed by a small human makes her way on deck. I admire the sunrise with my cute little cousin. We have a full day of adventure ahead of us. But first “mum, what’s for breakfast?”.