Another half day plus of screaming pace came abruptly to a halt at the time most maritime adventures seem to occur – 3AM in the dark of the night, when the crew’s energy is lowest and disorientation is highest.
It was almost on the dot of 3AM that the 20kt breeze from the southeast tapered off, replaced in less than 2 minutes by an even stronger wind from the northwest – exactly the opposite direction. It’s a classic example of a meteorological convergence zone, where two parcels of air moving in opposite directions collide. With nowhere else to go, the air swirls and rises, causing gusty winds, heavy rain, and thunderstorms.
Sails flapping wildly in the new breeze, Oso pitched and bucked in the confused seas caused by the sudden wind shift. Slowly, the crew brought the boat back under control. With moonlight completely eliminated by the heavy cloud cover, the only way to see the decks awash with the torrential rainwater was by the frequent streaks and sheets of lightning.
But as always has happened so far, we made our way out the other side of the weather system. Overnight the wind slowly clocked to north and then northeast. As dawn broke the blessed 15kt trade winds from the east started to reestablish themselves, and Oso scooted downwind towards the Caribbean, just as boats have been doing for many hundreds of years.
All’s well aboard.
Day Thirteen
190nm
16 19.9N 52 44.9W
