HOLY MOLEY - OUR ENGINE QUIT!

This is a version of the email I sent out to friends as an addendum to Ade’s log about our eastward journey from Cartagena, Columbia to Aruba… I’ve cleaned it up a bit here for you that are seeing it for the first time.

The engine just stopped. We were cruising along a few hours into this treacherous leg, the one around Rio Magdalena, and all of a sudden, the engine just sputtered for a second and stopped.  We would get it going and our hearts would leap and then, sputter-sputter-stop, and as it would stop, so would my heart.  Oh crap, here we are in the middle of one of worst stretches of oceans in the world with no engine, no sail, no Tow Boats USA, no US Coast Guard.  Thank goodness we were traveling with our buddies on Voyager.  Not only did they loan moral support just out there circling, but Les has been on every size Selene, talked to almost every owner, and has experienced just about every mechanical issue at one time or another and is familiar with our boat and engine, so he was giving us many steps to try.  It was a day of 5-8 footers and there were many many at 8 foot or better and so close together, it was crazy choppy.  Poor WS was rolling rail to rail and these boats are not set up to heel like a sailboat, so things were flying, like microwaves, upturned plants with dirt everywhere, a few broken dishes in the mix, drawers flying open and contents spilling about.  Think earthquake with endless aftershocks… you just want it all to stop so you can think for Pete’s sake!!!  But it doesn’t.

I am on the handheld VHF talking to Les and he is giving us instructions on what to try and I am calling them down to Ade in the engine room and then back up to the pilothouse to try the engine again.   I know Ade can usually fix anything, so I kept thinking it would finally start up and keep going, but he was getting seasick in the hot engine room and I could tell by hour 2 or 3 that he was tired and things just weren’t working… Les and Rose had offered a tow …and they have a larger boat capable of towing us,  but we knew it would be dangerous to get the lines together and so held off as long as possible.

After three attempts, including one that landed Voyagers harness with 200 feet of line floating off a bumper-come completely off his boat and float away.  That took a man overboard drill on their part to retrieve and thankfully it was all still there, so they tried again, this time with Rose driving as close as she dare to us while Les heaved the bumper with a few hundred feet of light nylon line attached to the heavy tow line rig, it just missed, but hung up on our big Rocna anchor so Ade could scramble for it.  We are both on the foredeck, with life jackets, on our hands and knees to keep from falling over.  Once he got it on board he had to work quickly as now Voyager has to hover too close to keep the line loose enough for us to attach to the harness Ade made and rigged like our anchor bridle off the bow… so he quickly had to get it coordinated and out the two forward hawsers and over the anchor on the bow pulpit…no limbs (or fingers like I did on another voyage) near it as one big wave could take it all overboard (and us with it)

Once he got it over we heaved a huge sigh of relief as the two harnesses, the one on our bow, and the one on the stern of Voyager fell into place and the 100+ foot line is pulled taut… so taut that I was terribly fearful that it would snap.  We’ve had that happen when towing a dinghy in a gale with big seas in New Zealand.  I couldn’t look at it as I could not hold a positive vision while looking.  In my eyes, it was the hands of God tying us together and so I sat (there was no standing as even though we were now being towed, we still flipped and flopped from side to side in a most un-natural way) and scooted around trying to pick up pieces of this and that to clear a path thru the salon, I was about as holy as a fallen away Catholic girl could be.   But I really did feel a divine connection and was calm.  I actually am calm when things are really serious… semi serious or just annoying and I’m a drama queen, but in a fix, I’m your girl.  There is a grace that comes to you when you acknowledge your vulnerability, and I think that’s what happens to me… Let Go, Let God.  I knew there was nothing I could do to fix it.  You feel so useless knowing that frankly, you (well, me) can’t fix anything.  I think many women at sea feel that way.  I know the basics, where the fuel travels and thru the filters, etc., and where the hoses come in to keep the engine cool, but if you aren’t mechanical, the ideas of what to do don’t come to you…it’s all foreign. (Ladies, keep doing the routine engine checks just to stay familiar with where everything is just in case).

Our decision to travel together, not just for all the fun, but for safety, is a good one.  By the way, we are three boats, but Dot and Ken wanted to leave a day ahead of us as they are slower and knew we’d just be behind them and then connect for the final run into Aruba together - which we did.  There is something about having others out there with you that is unbelievably comforting, even if they can’t really help, but that they were genius like Les and Rose makes us so terribly grateful.  Rose, for the record, does know her way around her engine, and I think can fix most things…she’s a tiny, dainty and lovely girl, but as a farmer’s daughter and Dobbe-Wan’s wife, she is unbelievably capable.   We didn’t take any pictures, but Rose shot some video, so maybe Ade will post it on our site later this week.

So, there’s the first mates side of the story… phew.

We are sitting in Aruba now - got here yesterday afternoon and after five days at sea - no matter what this place looked like, we were going to LOVE IT.  It felt soooo good to get our shaky legs on terra firma again.  Turns out, it is really is quite cool, and what’s this I hear, people greeting us in ENGLISH, and Dutch and Spanish and some local dialect I can’t make out at all.  Really feels like we are in the Caribbean now, that’s why we are here to experience the different cultures, languages, food and beverages… and Aruba’s Balashi Beer is good!  We all gathered on Voyager after checking in for a quick toast to our survival (Les and Rose had their own adventure the last night out, but I don’t want to try to tell it, ask them…another nail biter-and Dottie and Ken had serious alternator issues) … well, one toast led to another, and you know… we girls ended up singing what is now our signature song “I Must Follow Him” with a few lyric changes, and the boys returned the favor with a memorable rendition of “My Girl”.   Apparently there is also footage of these performances and they are about as ugly as the turbulent seas!