We had booked a full month at El Milagro marina and as it drew to a close, we prepared to sail with our spliced back stay the 330 some miles from Isla Mujeres to Key West, the promised land of readily available rigging supplies and reliable internet. It was time.
We stayed at anchor for an additional week waiting for a favorable weather window- No North set to the winds, nothing over 20 knots forecast. We knew we would have an advantageous current, but the passage across the Gulf of Mexico had left me with a newfound nervousness. ‘Can I trust the repair? Can I trust Ceol Mor?’ I had never not trusted Ceol Mor to take care of us and this new anxiety settled in the pit of my stomach. I was determined to get through this passage no matter what, but to say I was looking forward to it would be a lie.
We lifted anchor in brilliant sunshine in the late afternoon of Sunday, Jan. 15. We expected the crossing to take a total of 3 days or so. As we maneuvered around the ferries and tourist charter boats in the bahia of Isla Mujeres, I took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the clear turquoise waters of the Yucatan. It is such an odd thing being in crystalline waters. Your mind plays tricks with you and you can’t believe there is actually 14 feet of water under your keel so you check and double check the depth readings and then you remember that yes, the water is really just that clear.
We settled into our passage rhythm. We traded watches not set to a timer but rather to fatigue levels. Watches were sometimes an hour, sometimes 4. Everything was determined by the comfort level of the crew from the timing of meals to length of watch and we sailed into a night illuminated by a thousand stars. It was a stunning night of steady light winds, smallish swell and oh, oh so many stars.
Monday dawned and the day stretched out into absolutely spectacular sailing conditions. The seas were calm with only a minimal amount of swell and the SE winds were hovering around 12 knots consistently. Ceol Mor was an absolute champion. She galloped along at well over 7 knots, then 8 and 9 with us keeping an eye on our bandaged rig. I never was quite able to lower my eyebrow which was raised in the direction of the backstay, but Ceol Mor was busy reminding me why we chose her in the first place. She is sea kindly and solid and slowly, very slowly I started to trust her just a wee bit again.
These conditions held and it was an absolutely beautiful passage. Thanks to the advantageous current, we killed our pessimistic time estimate of 3 and a half days and in 2 days, we were off the coast of Key West. Not wanting to enter a strange harbor known for shoaling in the dark, we opted to spend almost 10 hours tacking back and forth to wait for daybreak. 2 hours before dawn, we began to motor sail into Key West Harbor.
It was at this time that Murphy decided to show up and remind us that there is no such a thing as a perfect passage. A distinctive unfamiliar tone began emanating from the engine room and Mark handed the helm off to me while we went to check the engine. I was at the helm, in the dark maneuvering between shallows, reefs and exposed wrecks while Mark disappeared into the engine room. “Bastard! Dirty, thieving BASTARD!” I heard from below. Oh dear. Not good.
It seems that a fuel supply line and detached from the thermostart and had not only caused the engine to sound off but had soaked the entire engine room in a shower of diesel. So far as mechanical breakdowns go, this one was easily sorted by Mark. I think this was the Universe telling me that not only could I trust Ceol Mor, but I could trust Mark as well. I realized once he had fixed the issue that indeed, my trust in him had been affected by the Gulf crossing. I think I needed that reminder that Mark is incredibly resourceful and if there is a way for anything to be fixed, he will figure it out. Engine sorted, we sailed into the harbor and dropped anchor in the Fleming Key Cut at 7:30 a.m. on Thursday Jan 19.
I truly could not have asked for a better first big passage after the challenges of the Gulf crossing. I had time to reflect on my own mindset. I had room to remember how much I love sailing and why I signed on all those years ago when Mark asked me “fancy a bit of sailing?”. As we prepared to take a well-deserved nap, I glanced at Key West which was awaking with the day and realized how lucky I am. Lucky that the spliced backstay held. Lucky to have had an almost perfect passage. Lucky to be anchored in one of my favorite cities. Lucky to be with a partner who is unafraid to tackle tough challenges. Lucky to be experiencing all the ups and downs of a life less ordinary.
