Changing Courses by Edee Dalke: The passage to Ithaca: It’s not 2 days, it’s 48 hours.

Gulf of Patras, Greece---We made it out of Sibari, and finally I was sailing. It was a calm beautiful day with small waves. We were all so happy but had left in a rush that nothing was really secured for heavy passage. We had left close to noon and waited to make lunch. I opened a Coke Zero and was relaxing when I started to notice white caps ahead.

I don’t get seasick. I don’t get seasick unless I only have had a diet coke, OR someone else is throwing up within my sight or hearing, OR someone talks about the details of throwing up.
Within an hour of leaving the channel we are bucking 4-6 foot waves with NO WIND. This grew to 6-8 foot waves with gusts up to 30 knots AND FREEZING WIND.
After running through the cabin, securing as much as possible, Shirish had dumped out the box with our foul weather gear and we scrambled to put them on as the kids groaned with seasickness. My coke zero was haunting me now and from the cabin I watched both boys share the head (bathroom) toilet pukeing their guts out. This time, I told myself: I don’t get seasick period. Ever. I had to, I had to share taking the helm during the passage.

Shirish and I divided up the watch times, that night I was too anxious and wasn’t ready to sleep. So I took the watch from 8-11pm then sleep 3 hours and back from 2-5am for another switch.
Suddenly I was having flashbacks to my last sail on Juno (see blog entry:11/10/09---SV Juno, the Maiden Voyage/Voyage of the dammed.) I was freezing, the winds were whipping and the boat was a mechanical bull. HOWEVER, there was a huge difference. The autopilot and the windvane (self steering by wind) were both working! This meant you could sit behind the dodger and miss part of the cold wind and spray. Standing every 10 minutes or so to scan the horizon for ships in the night and determine if and how to dodge them.

But, I was tired and miserable and doubting my sanity. But I love to

sail, even the through the rough stuff. However, I hate to be cold.

The next night, we switched it to our normal watch times: 9 to midnight, midnight to 3am, 3am to 6am. Then if they had their “sea legs”, the boys could help for 1 hour watches during the daylight hours. I took 9pm and 3am.

It was still cold but I had calmed down a bit and I started enjoying what I love about sailing. The moon raising over the ocean, being a tiny speck in a huge expanse of water and not seeing a soul yet knowing your destination is an exciting new experience. Gazing at more bright stars than you can ever see on land. The phosphorous in the water hitting the boat and the water lighting up like summer lightning bugs in the Midwest. I hung onto the main sail’s boom over the cockpit, leaned back and looked up. It feels like your flying.

When switching watch at 3am, I was climbing up the stairs to the cockpit

and a wave hit hard. I was thrown off the ladder, flying mid-air onto the pole that secured Orion’s bunk to the ceiling, then against the teak cabinet and onto the floor. I sat on the floor dazed and started to cry. Feeling that deadline to switch with Shirish, I crawled to the ladder and pulled myself up, only to meet his face at the top. Bawling, I tried to explain that I had fallen, but he was tired from his 3 hour watch and I got that look that reminded me I was just a girl…until he saw the bruise the next day.