Before our first cruise, Caribbean Drawn, had come to a close, the plans for a bigger adventure were already formulating in the captain's dreams. As I was to learn, anything he dares to dream eventually becomes reality...this one a transatlantic passage to the Mediterranean Sea.
After departing Newport, we made a five-day passage to Bermuda in late May and on June 12, were leaving the security of St. Georges Harbor and all things familiar behind us. The ocean passage had some exciting moments but for the most part, was uneventful. Exposure to wide expanses of either blue or gray surrounds were the norm. I learned the full meaning of "nothing is constant" when living on a small boat at sea. Winds would build then drop with a copycat sea, day after day. The passage to The Azores took just under two weeks. The island of Flores, our landfall in the Azores, was the greenest island I have ever seen, made more so following total immersion in a world of blue for so long. In mid July we departed the Azores for a nine-day passage to the Spanish coast, then jumping along the coast to Gibraltar and into the Mediterranean Sea. Dizzying miles of touring were made on our fold-up bikes when ashore, including a trek up the Rock to meet the Barbary apes. From here we sailed to the Balearic Islands of Ibiza, Formentera and Majorca before pointing Panacea's bow into the sunset, back toward the New World. The calendar dictated turning at this time or spend another year in the Med. Timing forced our turnaround. A provisioning stop was made in Gibraltar prior to heading back into the Atlantic Ocean and the islands of Porto Santo, Madeira and the Canaries. One of our last stops in the Canaries was a visit to San Sebastian Church on the island of Gomera, the tiny port from which Columbus departed for the New World.
Three days prior to the new year we headed
once more into the vast Atlantic, a second crossing within six
months--this time in the opposite direction. The intent was to
take a direct route to Barbados, an island in the southern Caribbean
chain. However, 750 miles into the trip Peter had symptoms of
a heart attack. After a couple of anxious days, the decision was
made to make for the Cape Verde Islands for medical assistance,
which were fortunately below us, allowing for a reach instead
of a beat back into strong tradewinds behind. Once safely in port,
his condition was diagnosed as atrial fibrillation. With medication,
his heart eventually reverted to normal rhythm within a week.
His doctor in Newport refused to give permission for him to make
the return Atlantic crossing, but the Cape Verde doctor in attendance
announced in heavily-accented Portuguese, "You can leave
but you must take it easy." Sure, Doc. Crossing the
Atlantic in a 32' sailboat with a mate, whose only intent is to
paint, will be very easy.
It was with more than a little apprehension we restarted our trip.
However, the sea gods were with us, and an uneventful 15-day passage
successfully saw us into Barbados. After a second medical workup
at a technically better-equipped hospital facility, Peter was
deemed healthy enough to continue. The remainder of our six-month
cruise was without event, other than delightful revisitations
to favored islands of the Caribbean chain as we made our way northward.
Charleston, SC was our US port of re-entry on April 27, 1995, when we crossed the BOC Around Alone Race finish line on the heels of the winner, C. Auguin on Sceta Calberson.