Obviously, the weather has a huge bearing on the pleasure of a journey but even heavy weather passages can be hugely satisfying in the right circumstances – a well found boat, confident crew, no gear failures, spot-on landfall. I did a delivery trip from Chesapeake Bay to Newport that included being hove-to for eight hours in an un-forecast storm that falls into this category. Of course, I’ve also had heavy weather passages where my inner self has been screaming: Stop the boat I want to get off!
Calms are more challenging but can still be enjoyable – doing the Mona Passage from Dominican Republic to Puerto Rico we had virtually no wind for the first two thirds of the trip, then a lovely breeze kicked in to waft us to Mayagűez. I remember it being a passage of great contentment despite the fearsome reputation of this stretch of water. On the other hand, the oily calm that preceded our ‘ultimate storm’ passage off the Cape of Good Hope was most unpleasant.
One of the least enjoyable passages I’ve endured was along the north coast of Hispaniola en route to Samaná. Two nights and a day, not much wind and lightning building to the north which eventually caught us as we rounded Cabo Samaná. But the most unpleasant aspect came from an eerie feeling of disquiet for a large portion of the trip. I couldn’t put my finger on the problem but there was a strong feeling of melancholy aboard during the first night and day that seemed disproportionate to the concerns about the approaching bad weather. I read later that Bahía Escocesa, the Scots Woman, is thought to be haunted and that this feeling of sadness, along with hearing a woman sobbing, has been reported often. Hmm.
And the best passage? Our first crossing of the Gulf Stream from Florida to the Bahamas because it signified the start of a truly great adventure – our modest odyssey, island hopping to the Caribbean.
