Author: Kat

Our girls came! Unfortunately, Ñandú was not quite ready to receive them with the flair and mobility that we would have liked. Our daughters, though, didn’t care. They were happy to see the three of us. They gifted us with a new way of looking at things. They were enchanted with the color of the water, the balmy temperature and the green rain forest. They didn’t mind that we didn’t sail far or actually moved much; who cares when you can jump from the bow or play on a paddle board. They laughed in front of relentless wind. They laughed landing the dinghy with crashing waves even when those waves crashed on top of them and their suitcases. They kept on laughing when we forgot to put the plugs in the dinghy and it became an unwieldy tub with oars, full of onions and fruit floating around.

We are proud of our daughters. They are becoming two wonderful human beings. Conscious, good-humored, witty free-thinkers who take nothing for granted.

​It’s daybreak and I feel tired, because I didn’t sleep well. It’s windy outside. The rigs on the boats sound like a concert of clanking bells. Ñandú shudders during the gusts. Oliver is hiding under a cloth. The brisk breeze comes loaded with high humidity. We are getting only the gentlest strokes from hurricane Maria, which is passing a hundred miles off shore. Dominica, Saint Croix and Puerto Rico got the full brunt of her fury and they are in ruins now.

We want to thank all the friends and family who reached to us these past weeks. We are safely tucked in a corner of the Cheasapeake Bay, still on the dry, busy with boat projects. We can’t stop thinking about other friends and all the people that we have met throughout our travels who weren’t so lucky. First Hurricane Harvey in Houston, a city we called home for several years. Then Irma, a huge monster that fed on the warmer than normal Atlantic waters, which devastated the Caribbean and Florida. And now, Maria. Is this sort of violent weather the new normal? Will we have to mourn more loss of life and property in the future?

Mother Earth is hea​t​ing up and speaking loud. Maybe she’s trying to tell us something and we’re too self-centered to hear. I think of my kids and the next generations and ask myself what sort of legacy we are leaving for them. In my darker days I wonder if there will be any legacy.

In the present time there are urgent needs for those who have been in the pass of these super storms and are living a humanitarian crisis of epic proportions. Juan and I have decided to donate through globalgiving.org and through the group of cruisers (us included) that would have been visiting the British Virgin Islands in November. There was discussion of going there to help, but at this moment a bunch of sailboats arriving at the islands after sailing 1500 miles would be more hindrance than relief.

When we got Ñandú we joked that she was going to be handy for global warming. I imagined a romantic post-apocalyptic time of bobbing around in warm waters swimming and fishing for food. In a way, my naivete reflects in the name of the boat. Ñandú, the Patagonian bird, is a kind of ostrich. Don’t ostriches hide their head in the sand when facing a threat? It’s clear that our planet’s challenges are not trivial. We can’t hide from them anymore.

PS: Ostriches turn their eggs buried in the sand. They are not hiding.

 

The Outer Islands must be spectacular, we said to each other. We couldn’t visit them last year as our goal was to leave the frost of winter behind the Ñandú’s stern. This time with good weather, warm temperatures and time in our pockets we chose to visit Ocracoke Island. Many reasons went into this decision. It was highly recommended by fellow cruisers (always a wise source), it has wild ponies (can’t go wrong with ponies), and it was Blackbeard’s favorite spot (can’t go wrong with pirates).

To reach this windswept paradise we had to play chicken with a ferry in the narrow entrance channel. Past the channel is Silver Lake, a safe harbor conveniently surrounded by the village of Ocracoke. It wasn’t such an easy place to anchor after all. It was crowded with a plethora of boats and the best spots were taken. We had to settle for the leftovers. On our first try, the hook didn’t bite and we started dragging. The second try was fine except that we ended up a bit too close to a dock. The next morning the captain of the historic Wilma Lee asked us politely if we could reanchor farther away. He needed a sort of runaway to enter and exit the dock. We didn’t want to be part of history under 75 foot of wooden boat, so we moved again.

When we made it to land we found a bike rental place that also specialized in producing the most amazing “tacos in a bag“, a first for us.

We planned a biking expedition for the next day to find the famous wild ponies. We imagined the little horses running free on the beach like in a commercial. Early next morning we followed the main—and only—highway. Seven miles later we found the ponies. Sort of. The hard-to-find free and wild ponies of our imagination were neither so free nor so wild. And impossible to miss. They are kept for their own safety in big pens with lovely accommodations and plenty of food. I only glimpsed from the distance a cute foal getting excited at the prospect of fresh grass that a ranger was bringing.

When we turned around we recalled that the taco chef/bike rental owner warned us that the wind could make it hard to pedal back to the village. No wonder it was such an easy ride thus far. As self-proclaimed sailors we should have known better. Juan offered to go first and cut the wind for me. I preferred not to ask if it was an act of chivalry or sheer impatience with my frequent stops to breathe. We made it back and recovered with delicious fish tacos on the road.

Ocracoke was a favorite playground for Blackbeard, also known as Edward Teach. Legend says it was also the place of his final defeat. The pirate vibe is all around town. We found Blackbeard’s lodge, Blackbeard’s jamboree, Teach’s Hole, Blackbeard museum, and lots of fake pirate paraphernalia. I am just happy that the pirate is now more a marketing fixture than a real man. I don’t think Ñandú would have presented a big challenge to a guy who braided his long beard and put lighted fuses under his hat to terrorize his enemies.