Category: Sailing The Atlantic

The words burst out of my greasy salting lips as my huge smiling eyes focus through the thick morning glare. A maze of obstacles appear from the ocean surf, green and red navigational buoys in the Forteleza, Brazil port multiply as the South America landfall approaches.

Holy big cow wow, this is insanely exciting!!!”

I say out loud to the Captain. His long ash blonde hair blows in the breeze as it has for many an ocean crossing. His 60 year old freckled hands grasps an I-pad. His polarized sunglass covered eyes peer down confidently at the LED screen as the chart coordinates for the marina appear. He has reached his final continent of a sailing circumnavigation. I have reached the Americas, my final continents to complete cycling around the world.

Crossing Africa by magic bicycle is one thing, but crewing on a sailboat across an ocean to South America… this is just toooo cool…. water travel is the original form of travel after walking, it’s how countries were discovered… this is way too cooool”

I practically hoot and holler with the exhilarating force of an ecstatic happy bomb about to detonate. There is no containing my excitement at this point. I am firmly gripping the yachts salty steering wheel trying not to jump up and down. I haven’t slept, night time came and went as I steered the boat under the approaching equatorial stars towards a South American landfall.

My hyper lever has spiked on high, I can feel it in my bouncing toes. Focus Retta focus, I think to myself, keep both feet firmly planted on boat, hands on the wheel… focus on water obstacles, look for floating stuff, don’t hit anything I grin to myself. The white sandy Brazilian shoreline and the historic Cathedral Metropolitana Central rise on the shoreline. Cycling a route through the Americas awaits.

Any route suggestions anyone?

The glimmering glow of a half moon creates shadows through the iridescent red glow of our head lamps.Six of us, all who have arrived on Ascension island by sea, walk the many hills of the yellow sandy beach. My toes dig deep into the sand to find balance under the 1 AM starry night. An amazingly pleasant experience after sitting on a rocking sailboat for 3 weeks. Some say sailing is adventurous but truth be told it is a little boring. Often finding myself having trouble sitting still for so many hours. Story telling fill our hours between meals. The kitchen galley becoming a focal point of our days. On a quest for green sea turtles at 1 AM on the worlds largest sea turtle nesting site after too many beers on a Monday afternoon is pure perfection.

“Watch out there’s another one”

I hear whispered into the darkness. My eyes registering on two baby green turtles the size of a x-large coin. Their legs,shaped as flippers push them speedily through the sand.  The mad dash for the ocean is in full bloom. At a huge risk for predators, the babies hatch from their eggs in the evening and make there way to the sea.

“Guys, guys over here”

The group has found a giant female turtle on her way to lay her eggs. Unfortunately our excitement level frightens her and she u-turns at a hustle back to the sea

I mumble apologetically as the guilt sets in.

“I guess that’s is why they have conservation projects like this one” We all agree as we continue are walk on the sandy beach in search of sea turtles. This time quietly, without lights and a whisper…..

I was wearing full condom holding AK 47 in Poland military” Frederyk explains as he motions his calloused hands to his torso, his veteran guitar player hands gesturing that the term ‘full condom’ used by creative English speakers means full body protection. His freckled bare arms sway with the boats rocking motion. His cycling tan has faded and has been replaced by developing sea legs. The ocean swells heave the boat from side to side as the hours pass. The crew and captain of ‘This Side Up’ have been living together at sea for 148 hours.

As we pass the prime meridian line, the south Atlantic’s cascading swells and the boats beautiful polished wood interior are the perfect backdrop for telling stories, old and new. A perfect way to pass the time between the cooking of meals in the adventurous galley. Where dangling a spatula in one hand and trying not to fall on your head swaying on the rocky boat is all part of novel nautical nourishment.

How do you like your eggs Captain?… I can’t promise anything?” I ask almost rhetorically from the small cubicle galley. The special boat stove sways on it’s hinges as the vessels rounded haul shimmies over the 3-4 meter S. Atlantic swells. I’m feeling more like a inhabitant of a gravity free spaceship than a sailboat as I sway uncontrollably with a hot frying pan in my hand. That counter top is probably more decorative than functional right now as a place to put anything I think to myself. As a plateful of my invention, indo-guaco-eggs takes flight from the kitchen counter at full speed. It splats egg chunks, and smears avocado pieces into the floor. “Ten second rule”, I hear Billy and Frederyk chuckle almost simultaneously with understanding, for we all have been taking turns cooking meals on board the bouncy vessel.

As long as it has been on the floor less than ten seconds, it’s ok to eat?, Ten SECONDS? How about ten MINUTES!

No, I’ll eat it” I say laughing as I lean over digging the greasy spatula into the mess on the teak floor. I am still laughing at how hard it is during the big swells to stay upright in the kitchen galley. The Captain bruised ribs are a testament to acrobatic balance while rocking at sea. As well as my back roll over the table with a miraculous ass over tea-kettle soft landing into a cushioned couch. All part of life on board the boat named ‘This Side Up’ as we approach Saint Helena, our first stop during the Atlantic crossing.

Frederyk shouts through a chorus of laughter. His Polish accent is as thick as his sense of humor. Droplets of salty spray from Wavis Bay splash his brown rimmed glasses as his blue grey cycling shirt clad arms hold his guitar to his chest for safe keeping. The guitar has been Frederyk trusted companion traveling by bicycle from Poland to Africa since 2005, playing music on the streets as he goes.

I can’t believe I am learning Polish swear words while getting soaked in this dingy” Billy bellows aloud, his South African Afrikaans accent compliments the laughable profanities. His leatherly brown shoes cling to his wet cotton socks as the waves splash over the bow. “Ziabeschieh…F#ck y’ah” Billy translates as our well provisioned vessel to cross the Atlantic disappears into the mist with the last of the afternoons sunshine. The 48 foot steel yacht named ‘This Side Up’ will wait on anchor for our return from a visit to shore.

Niemo problemo, no problem” Frederyk laughs again as the Captain, leans on the throttle in a fruitless attempt to hurry the small engine into the oncoming winds. His white blonde long hair frames his youthful hardly wrinkled 60 year old face. He gleefully grimaces into the chilly wind. A grandfather of 14, father of 5 and a Harley Davidson rider turned around the world world sailor the Captain is a veteran to adventure.

The choppy waves lap over the air filled gray dingy walls. The wooden aged dock on shore is in plain site. White Namibian flamingos stand watch, their delicate legs stand knee deep in water. They watch and wait, peering out to the Atlantic as we make our way to the sandy shore.

I am trucked tight, crouched with my feet firmly planted on the bouncy dingy floor, wedged between the throttle arm and Frederyk warm back.

You make a fine wind break Frederyk, Ziebeshiah” I giggle as I raise my dry arm and pat Frederyk on the back.

Niemo problemo” Frederyk says.

The dingy bounces to a halt at the dock with the Atlantic crew of ‘This Side Up’ smiling and swearing in polish. The first of many adventures to come with the May 27^th departure for an Atlantic crossing beginning with a 10-14 day sail to Saint Helena.