Monday, May 12, 2025

The Horse Latitudes

      As we crossed into the region known as the Horse Latitudes we watched the thunderheads rising high in the quickly heating atmosphere way above the 30 thousand feet of the normal thunderheads over land. The clouds tumbled upward until reaching the colder climes of the upper airs whereupon these beasts would anvil out in a show of royal beauty. 
        It was not long before the chilling air reached down the cloud causing the whole side of this spectacular mass to collapse with the sides collapsing first showing us the elegance of nature in the form of huge raindrops that gathered speed as they fell towards the ocean. The release of energy rivals any other weather formation. When hit by these massive drops of water you really get stung by the size and coldness of these massive spheres.
    We crossed these latitudes using the iron sail.  Looking out over the bright sea towards our destination, I spied a native carrying a telescope as if he were guiding us or simply watching out for us. These images in the clouds are a constant occurrence for me. To see this image was a reassurance and increased my confidence in my travel southward.  There were others who came to see the Golden One as we closed with the islands.   A young chieftain with with feathers in his hair made an appearance in my mind. Who knows who he was?  A stoner perhaps. A Tahitian prince by the way he dressed.
     Nothing pleases a skipper more than fair winds. We were becalmed until the winds began again.  It took many days to cross this sea.  We had food but water was disappearing.        
     The Spanish named this region the Horse Latitudes.  When food and water ran low the horses died were eaten or pitched overboard.  God bless the horses.
     Plan well if you dare to cross this region.  We were finally on our way again.  The breeze picking up and everyone is relaxed again.
       For most of the journey, I had the third watch which means I had to sleep during the day.   I arose an hour or so before my shift to feed the needs of the body.  Gone were the hot showers of the shore.   After three days you start to stink so saltwater baths on the fore deck were the norm. Brian hated to bathe in salt water and hated my fastidiousness. He stayed drunk most of the time when he was off duty.  Lori and him would start drinking Popov vodka until they fell asleep. I was alone with the ocean and the sky for my friend.
       One becomes a cloud watcher. These amazing weather formations are the most spectacular on earth. There is nothing but the sea and atmosphere to generate the most beautiful of all creation. Then, as if by magic they become pastel as the sun sets. These riots of color explode in your eyes with each one being better than the last.     I once saw a slide show in Arcata California. It was nothing but South Pacific sunsets.  I believe this is what subconsciously made me want to trip to the South Pacific.                 There are many reasons to go there. Getting away from society is the popular reason for many sailors.  The Brits always thought of the sea as home where you are welcome to survive.  You must love the ocean.
       Each evening, in the sweltering heat the sun plunged into the sea in a fiery show of pastels and flame.  These sunset moments have special meaning for the crew of any sailboat. The impending darkness is relentless.  Preparing the ship for night was something to be enjoyed.
     The night brings interesting heavenly things. Each and every star that make an appearance is important to notice for it reassures you of your direction on the vast ocean.   Once you see them it becomes so wonderful. Many times passing clouds obscure the sky. There is always one or two that remain visible unless there is a storm brewing. You simply wait for it to pass before continuing on your merry way.  Yes you will survive and be the better for it.  The most amazing sight is the Milky Way tilted on edge.  One can see the whole thing on clear nights.
           Many a seaman has been swept overboard by boarding seas while taking a piss off the taff rail. The higher the deck from the water the less chance for this to ever happen. The ship must be well planned. Tested and tested again for seaworthiness assures safety. Every thing is important to notice and check.   Rotten through hull fittings are oftentimes the problem for many ship sinkings at sea. The head is particularly dangerous.  If someone forgets to close the valve the vessel will fill up with water.  Rust never sleeps and corrosion happens where it should not. Galvanic action is usually the culprit.
     The lesson is to keep your zincs in good standing as these sacrificial anodes keep the ship safe from galvanic action which is the scientific term for corrosion.
     As darkness reigns the sea comes alive.  The small fry rise to the surface to feed on plankton.  In turn, the predators come to feed on the fry.   The flying fish take to the air to confuse predators which is one of the most remarkable evolutionary adaptations ever to develop.  These bullet headed bombs of the night come streaming over the rails attracted by the spreader lights, wide eyed and wildly menacing in every aspect.  Some are over three feet in length.   If they ever strike you there will be serious damage. Many crash land on deck.  They make a wonderful addition to breakfast.
    The winds pick up and the ocean becomes a riot of countering seas with huge peaks and valleys especially during knarly squalls. The slap of the waves on the side of the ship moves her slightly. This is why the helm must be tended most of the time because things will happen. 
    The wind vane is a good thing until it goes out of sync and needs adjusting.  Murphy's law has yet to be repealed. If you snooze you lose so take frequent naps.    Don't become too comfortable at sea. She is a mighty mistress and a deadly lover.
      When you cross into these latitudes it's like entering another country. The differences are profound and sometimes troubling. You are now relying on the engine. The quiet of sailing is replaced with the sickening smells of diesel and raucous sounds of the mechanical engine.
      Even that scarcely compares with the heat that the engine generates.  Venturing down below in this heat is astounding and never pleasant.  I resorted to sleeping, eating and relaxing on the fore deck in the shade of the mainsail. 
      The tantalizing puffs of air only made you long for the end to this torture.  Many times I wanted to stop and swim.   Brian would have none of it. He was so paranoid because when he left Canadian waters he ran into a storm. For three days the storm ravaged the boat. He lashed the helm and turned donuts in the sea until he was finally released from this ordeal.  It takes a long time to get over the troubles in sailing.

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