How do you properly communicate when your stuck in an engine room, with a screaming diesel shooting boiling water in all directions, and you need something done; and I mean like NOW?…    Perhaps a better question would be: how can someone at the helm properly understand what a scalded, screaming, maniac is communicating, when all they hear is, “DOWN!!! DOWN!!! DOWN!!! DOWN!!!”, coming from a smoke filed engine room?…   To Gabriel, and perhaps to any one in a similar circumstance, this could only mean: “Shut the engine DOWN!!!”.   What I actually meant, due to the fact we could not restart the engine, was: “Turn the throttle DOWN!!!” 

There we were yet again stuck, 10 hours away from the very end of the longest and most difficult journey of our lives.  No wind, no ability to start the engine, and no radio contact.  

Evening came, and the few faint lights on the shore became brighter as darkness fell.   Or perhaps because we were drifting toward the shore?…  A quick check on the chart plotter revealed we were drifting half a knot, at a slight angle toward the south coast of Haiti, backward… 

There were two concerns.  One, the depths on this part of Haiti went from very deep, to rock cliffs, so anchoring to avoid drifting ashore was out of the question.  Second, this part of Haiti had very little civilization, and was well known for piracy.  Being stranded close to shore would make us prime candidates to being boarded by folks who were not exactly happy to see us for the same reason we were happy to see them.    Exhausted, I set a thirty minute timer to sleep, and keep watch through yet another long night.  I may have heard the alarm once or twice, the rest was lights out.

  The next morning, we were about three miles off shore and we had drifted back about seven miles.   None of us had the strength to pull lines, crank winches, or adjust sails.  My hands and knuckles were so sore that I could barely open and close them.  All my joints reminded me we had all been pushed way beyond our limits.  My skin stung with throbbing waves from the boiling water that covered me the previous day.   Yet, with no other way to move the vessel, we somehow found the strength to raise the sails as a strong “headwind” came.

For those who are not familiar with sailing, I will explain why I placed the word headwind in quotes.   A headwind, is wind that comes directly from the direction you are traveling to.  It is impossible to sail into a headwind, but you can sail at an angle, 20 to 30 degrees to ether side of the headwind.  By making long zigzag paths, you are able to gain ground toward the direction you need to head to.   This is called tacking.   Tacking is lots of fun when you go sailing for about one hour… Not so much fun when you have been trying to get to your destination for almost one year… 

With no other choise, Aleph Tav heeled to starboard, and we shot out quickly away from shore at about six knots.   We would have to sail on a long and wide tack hoping to hit the last turn of the main island of Haiti and head into Ile a Vache.   The longer we sailed away from Haiti, the more the wind shifted, hindering us from making the tack we had hoped for.   Worst yet, we were now getting pummeled by heavy beam seas, causing Aleph Tav to sway so strongly that everything in the vessel got tossed every where.  It was impossible to gain any ground in the direction we had hoped, so we turned back to shore where at least the ocean was calm.

With our last bit of strength, we lowered the sails and sat there adrift about seven miles further back from the point we had left out of.   Once again the sun set.   We could hear a very faint call over the radio.   It was Andre.   He was desperately trying to help, but there was nothing anyone could do.

“Honey, I’m done…” I explained,  “I’m turning on the sailing lights, then I’m going to sleep.   The Angels will carry this boat where ever they will carry it…”

To be continued