Origins of Plan B

The Origins of Plan B

(Writing from Guadeloupe)

As far back as last summer, our thinking was that we would fly
to Trinidad, spend a week and a half preparing Horizons for her
northward journey, and head out about the first of February.

In addition to being northward, the journey would be sentimental,
a valedictory visit to places that we love and that we would
not be seeing again, ever (at least not in our capacity as cruisers,
since we could always book a flight).

But we would have time to savor this and remember that as we
plied our way gently northward, arriving at the Virgins and then
sailing to the Bahamas by way of the Turks and Caicos, so as
to arrive in America early June, and at Slip 19 in Hartfield
a little before the Fourth of July.

Our Plan A started fraying around the edges fairly early in the
program, and we are presently considering whether 1) Plan A has
been ripped to shreds by the events of the intervening weeks,
or 2) possibly Plan A has not yet absolutely ripped to absolute
shreds and there is a way we can make our way to Slip 19 in Anno
Domini MMXI.

The problem is a combination of time pressure and fatigue.

Losses to Weather: Two Weeks in Trinidad. Winter weather systems
in North Atlantic extend their southward reach and send northerlies
our way. Mid-Feb we see an opening and go to Grenada, against
much uglier weather than was forecast. We get there, but we
have lost the ship-to-shore radio and the wind instrument. Both
losses are surprises, and this takes us to—

Losses to Wind Instrument Failure: One Week in Grenada. Grenada
Marine solve the problem promptly, but we have to stay close
to the boat while they work out their schedules. That's OK,
since there is a new VHF radio needing installation, and some
small projects not worthy of mention. Last year we put in a
new autopilot (except for the drive unit), but we didn't know
that a part of it could fail, too—

Losses to Autopilot Failure: One Week in St Lucia. As we move
northward, the autopilot starts being overwhelmed by the least
little wave, shutting itself off and producing a sudden and alarming
120-degree turn to leeward, without warning. Eventually it quit
altogether. Regis Electronics in Rodney Bay finds the bad electrical
connection on the drive unit and fixes it, but it takes us several
days to get on the technician's dance card. Meantime, we enjoy
Rodney Bay and St. Lucia and find it lovely. (When we were last
in St Lucia in 2003 our time there was disappointing, and we
hadn't planned on returning. Now, with changes to the marina
and a new supermarket that sources from the US it is a delight.)

Losses to Heat Exchanger Failure: Ten Days in Martinique. After
a few days in Marin we enjoy a delightful four-hour sail to Fort
de France. Entering the bay, we furl the jib and staysail, since
the Trois Ilets anchorage is upwind. Ten or fifteen minutes
later the light and alarm on the panel signal overheating. Jack
checks the exhaust water before shutting the engine down, and
the pump is working like a champ—but the liquid coming out is
tinged with the color of coolant, indicating a busted heat exchanger.
We get a tow from the Societe National de Sauvetages en Mer
to a boatyard three miles from downtown F de F at six PM Wednesday
and call the mechanic the next morning, Thursday. He drives
up from Marin to diagnose on Tuesday, and he installs the replacement
part on Thursday. This is prompt and efficient service, but
what we hear is the clock ticking ever louder.

We have kept pushing and now we are in Guadeloupe. Martinique
to Dominica to the Saintes and the final four hours of yesterday's
ride to Point-a-Pitre involved unforecasted bad weather and confused
seas. Plus Laurie had accidentally put her left contact lens
in her right eye and the lens did not want to come out. (It
came out of its own accord overnight.) Jack's knee, which is
always complaining these days, is joined by his hip and his upper
back—it's like a trio in some orthopedic grand opera.

We both pronounced The Seven Words: I'm getting too old for this.

We did not, however, immediately seek out the services of a yacht
broker.

Horizons, according to Plan B, will return to America in MMXII,
after spending hurricane season on the hard, probably in Antigua.

(Writing from Antigua)

A bit of time passes. We cannot get through to Antigua by telephone
or email to either Jolly Harbor or Antigua Slipway, both of which
are places our insurance agent has told us we can haul with a
reasonable hurricane premium. We have friends in English Harbour
who take time to go to Antigua Slipway, collect the information
on hauling there and email it to us. The creative secretary
at Jolly Harbor, having received a long-shot fax from us, faxes
back to the same number with their costs and the statement that
they have room.

Welcome to Plan B. We sail to English Harbor, 40 miles, half
of it at hull speed, only using the engine for 30 minutes on
either side of the passage, and drop anchor close to our friends
on Alexina of Shoreham, first met in Rome in 2004. They crossed
from Cape Verde this February and have been in Antigua since,
waiting for their friends, who will accompany them down the chain.
We have a grand reunion. Peter and Helen look the same to us
(as we to them, no doubt) and their daughter Tiger is now 10
and as charming as ever, though much taller.

We decide to haul at Antigua Slipway, thereby allowing us to
work on the boat in protected English Harbor while we enjoy seeing
the magnificent classic yacht race next week. We will have front
row seats as they turn in the harbor.

We have spent a while torturing each other with whether we could
have just soldiered on, much as we did in 2004. Have we wimped
out, ingloriously? We could still make it to the Virgins in
time to surge through the Bahamas and make it home in time …
if we really persevered, and if the weather holds and no time-consuming
problems occur. The conclusion is that while persistence is
one of the great virtues, it is wise to select carefully just
what it is that one is going to be persistent about! In our
case and in the present circumstances we remember that we set
out on this cruise eleven years ago for the pleasure of it.
Accordingly, we vote for pleasant. We'll bring Horizons back
next year.