Night Watch on Compadre

This is a post that I wrote while out on Compadre. I miss these nights, but nothing like thinking about them. While out there, I made it point to remember before coming back to obstructions, light pollution and noise… Nothing but the creaking of the ole girl, the slapping, lapping of the water and the breath of the sea….

Posting photos isn't an option out here in the middle of the South Pacific, but let me try and do my best to paint you a picture. 

After dinner and talking story, I go up and talk with Jerry for a bit while he's on watch, he points out the Southern Cross, which I have never seen before and I point out my boyfriend... Orion and Big Dipper, Ursa Major. The moon, she's just a sliver in the sky and you can practically watch her grow and fill out her rotund figure. I look in awe, then tell Jerry good night and to have a good watch and off to my chambers. It's 01H00 and I am awoken by the sweet whisper by David, "Sarah... Sarah." I had already been up for a bit watching the phosphorescence dance wildly out my port side hatch. The phosphorescence are so bright that you can see them with your eyes closed. It's almost as if they are checking on what's in this vessel. Like a fish bowl in reverse... Tapping on the window saying, "Hey, look at that thing in there, what is it?" Compadre heaves forward, up, then plunges down deep in the water on its starboard tack. As we'd say in Maine, "The boat, she's reight sideways." A smile fills my face as I listen to the forceful slaps of the waves on the bow, then the stern. Hearing all the night time creaks and lie there in my bunk trying not to think of the heat. I go up on deck and David relays any information that I need to know about the wind, sails, etc. He then retires to his bunk for what he hopes is a good nights rest. I'm on until 04H00. I stand at the helm and watch the wind angle, wind speed, COG (course of ground), boat speed and watch for any squalls that may lie ahead of us, or even sneak up on either side. Once I feel everything feels right, I head out on the stern and sit in my favorite spot, on the dinghy. I watch out over the water and see all the white horses that surround me. It's so amazing. The sounds, the wind, the stars. So many stars! Orion is aiming his bow at the ocean behind me and the Big Dipper is starting to think about it's plunge into the deep blue. The Southern Cross went to sleep while I was sleeping, but Scorpius, Scorpius is out, stinger and all. I have seen the stars from Maine to Alaska and places in between, and never have I seen such a display of natures Nite Brite. The wind picks up and the slaps become more forceful on the good ole girl. I was on the dinghy one night and watched the boat in what seemed like slow motion keep leaning to port... and it wasn't stopping. I started to not so much worry, but just watch in awe with the fact that we could lean that far and not fall in, but since Dylan wasn't budging, it must be ok. I let a huge giggle when we righted ourselves. (And I have issues with balance in a surfski... REALLY? HA! Puts it in perspective... but I don't have a keel.) I go to the helm and go through my mental check list. I am very thankful that Dylan is there sleeping in the pilot house while I am on watch. He would be anyway, but still, it's very comforting and a confidence builder. You don't want to mess up and wake the lion, unless you need the lion to chase down one of the horses... or zebra in that case. I fall off a few degrees, wait and listen watching the gauges, and fall off a couple more. All is good, must have been a teaser. I go back to the stern to wait for the next show. It starts at 03H00. Venus. When she comes up, she is just down and to the left of Scorpius, she comes up sleepily and then once it's been about 15 minutes, she's is brighter then the moon. Then as I lean back on the dinghy, I see the random falling or shooting star, plane or shadows of the couple of terns that follow us. My eyes then go back to the choppy seas. I can't help but think that this is where the wild horses go. If you watch the waves, you see herds of wild horses running with their flowing manes tailing behind them. They rear up and then charge forward sometimes colliding with others. I catch myself then drifting off to a world I feel I have known before. I have this sudden urge to just jump into the water. Ever since I was younger, I have always loved swimming at night. Everything is better at night. I resist, and just imagine what it would be like. My watch is almost done and while Dylan is still fast asleep, I take a quick shower on the stern in the privacy of the night and enjoy the last half hour. I wake Dylan and pass on the news, "Thanks, get some rest." "Have a good watch Dylan"

Oh... by the way. I saw a shark yesterday... while I was in the water!!!

The shark… well, that was amazing! To keep it "short Sarah," I jumped in the water on my niece Abby's birthday (4APR) to cool off. David passed me a pair of googles and I was checking out the keel and bottom of boat while facing the stern on the starboard side and BAM!!! There was a shark… right below me. It was very large and had teeth, so I think it was a toothy large shark… or a Mako… head wasn't wide enough to be a great white. She was a long one though… I got out of the water a good speed and reached up with Wonder Woman strength, skipped the safety line and went straight for the gunwales. Talk about an open water water change! 

And here I still am…..