CHAPTER FOUR: Friday Night Sailing

We headed North from Marco with an eye on anchoring in a sheltered cove for the evening.  As it turns out, we should have done a bit more planning for this option – the area between Marco and Naples is pretty inhospitable and doesn’t provide a lot of options for those that don’t know the area intimately.  We finally found that there was a mooring field in Naples City and were going to try and tie up there, but by that time it was 8:00 P.M.,

We were a few nautical miles from shore, and the mooring field would’ve taken over an hour of motoring. Plus, we’d have to take down the main and flake the damn sail.

“What if we can’t get a mooring ball or slip? Then what?” I asked.

“Then we anchor off the shore, even though we won’t have any protection.” Terry was worried the on-land thunderstorms would approach us.

I looked at the clear sky due west, and all the thunderstorms on land to the east.

“Why not just stay out at sea? No one’s around- what’s the worst that could happen?”

He thought it over, checked the radar, and went with it. So we went due west and chased the sun. We saw another pretty sunset, another starry sky. I was feeling sleepy, though, and hungry to boot. Both of which, I discovered, are not good when you’re trying to sail.

“I can’t decide whether I should eat and then sleep, or sleep and then eat.”

“Sleep first,” he said.

My gut told me I should eat. Whatever.

An hour later, I woke up feeling less hungry, initially, but very shortly thereafter, my stomach was not happy that it came in second. I needed to heat up chili in the galley. Sigh. Okay stomach, just hold out a little longer.

Terry scarfed down his fourth meal, but it took me about 15 minutes to get it all down. Small spoonfuls. When it was down, I felt wonderfully better. I was ready for the midnight shift.

Just me and the sea. It was now 1:00 A.M. Terry slept on the other side of the cockpit from where I was sitting. Moral support, in part.  But also because it didn’t make sense to sleep below when you can sleep under the stars.  There was lightning off to the southeast in the distance. Earlier in the night, Terry kept on me to watch the sky.  He was worried that the storm could head in our direction while he was sleeping.   

“I think we’ll be okay.” And it turned out, we were more than okay. It was a peaceful night, and the winds were favorable. 

My way of sailing Argo II was to let her steer herself and find her way. I discovered she preferred a close-hauled tack. She’d chase it to irons, luff a bit, fall off and then chase again.  Once in a while, she’d overreach and need a hand, but mostly she was comfortably making her way.

After an hour or so of sailing, the moon began to rise, in all its orange, waxing self. It was as if it whispered to me to look, because I did a quick look around and saw it on the horizon. I saw the crescent rise and fade to white. Argo II wanted to follow a moonbeam while going close-hauled with the northwest wind. Or perhaps, she wanted me to see the moon. I continued due west for an hour or so, keeping the moon abeam, before the wind started to slowly shift toward the north. As the wind continued to change, Argo II headed more northeast. She started galloping, reaching her stride, up to 5.2 knots at one point. She was in her element. Around 4:00 A.M., Terry’s eyes opened, he took the helm and I, relaxed and satisfied, grabbed a pillow and took my turn under the stars.