“… And this is the Scroll.” I explained while handing it to them.  They took it as one who has found a priceless fragile treasure.   

Thanksgiving came, and Pastor George had an amazing spread of food waiting for us.   At this time, Kerah’s family had ended their tour so they join us as well.  We had a wonderful time of fellowship, lots of delicious food and song.  Considering the fact that the Hanes’, the Oliveiras, and the Hages are all musical families, we had lots, and lots of song.

“Rabbi was a preacher man, he held the Torah in his hand…” Was part of the lyrics sung by Pastor George’s wife, Kim and her mom and dad. We laughed, and ate, and loved.

Then the day came.   It was a sad and happy day.  We were sad to say goodbye to our new family, but happy to finally set off on a journey that had started almost one year prior.

Before setting sail, I went to the Friendship  Chapel one last time as I had promised.  There, on the right side, I inserted the Scroll into the mezuzah, and nailed it to the door post.  Pastor George touched it with his hand.  Kim disappeared for some time, then came holding a small box.  

“This is from Jerusalem, it was a gift that has meant so much to me… I want you to have it now.  It is a reminder of the Spirit that goes ever before you in your journey.” She explained with tears in her eyes.   Inside, there was a little dove made out of mother of pearl.

We traveled without incident back to Marathon Florida.   Hazak was finally sailing and motoring on her own, due to the countless hours that Kerah’s dad spent rebuilding the atomic four.  In addition, Hazak was blessed to have an on board mechanic and an extra psalmist, as Mark and Shimrit, Kerah’s parents, joined the crew until Marco Island.

By the time we arrived in Marathon, La Victoria was just about ready to set sail to Haiti.   They had left Steinhatchee about one week ahead of us.   We hoped to have our autopilot fixed before setting sail, so we waited a couple of days, but unfortunately it was to old and we could not find parts for it. Back to holding the helm 24-7, “ugh…”

We headed out mid afternoon and as soon as we left the Keys, it was clear we were no longer on the gulf side.   With a wide open Atlantic in front of us, it was back to wind and swells.  Wind and swells, meant no good cooking, no hanging out down below, and little or no rest.  The positive thing was that the wind was coming from the north, giving us an exhausting but very direct line.   Hazak kept up perfectly.   In fact, she stayed ahead of Aleph Tav most of the time, as we were reefed due to the strong winds.  

Several days into the trip, we were all exhausted, sleep deprived, and weak with little or no appetite.   We had a brief moment of joy as we passed the place where we had turned back on the previous journey.   Shortly after, dark clouds covered the sun while it was yet setting, and the rain came. 

There is only one thing worse then being behind the helm through an endless night, vomiting, exhausted, sleep deprived, and weak with little or no appetite, and that is; being behind the helm through an endless night, vomiting, exhausted, sleep deprived, and weak with little or no appetite, in a torrential rainstorm that will not stop.   Actually there is something even worse; there’s being behind the helm through an endless night, vomiting, exhausted, sleep deprived, weak with little or no appetite, in a torrential rainstorm that will not stop, when you lose site and communication with your son and his crew who are fairly inexperienced sailors.

“Heavy rain… (Fuzz) can’t see anything…  (Fuzz) Instruments are getting soaked…”  came a distant broken up message from Hazak.

To be continued