Yarmouth to P-Town

Ocean sailing is truly like a dream. We got up before the sun and made ready in short order. Cetacea had remained ship-shape for our entire Canadian sojourn so making ready was just a matter of weighing anchor. I (Dena) hauled that nasty chain, three weeks sunk into the stinking blood pudding that Yarmouth Harbor calls bottom mud. It took a long time because I kept trying to dislodge the mud by pumping the chain up and down. The anchor left the bottom at 0529. I (James) had the first watch in the dark without a working local chart on the chartplotter so navigating was a matter of following the former track-line (easy) and dodging the local fishing industry (not so easy). It was, let’s just say, interesting. With the mainsail up as we exited the Yarmouth River and the sun just rising, the mass of ocean before us was just a little too much for my (still James here) equilibrium to take and I was overwhelmed with sickness as soon as Dena took the helm for her watch. I retched over the side for a few horrible moments and then it was all over for the rest of the trip. Mental note: take the meclazine the evening before, not the morning of. It was an absolutely splendid sailing experience for the first 29 hours. With the wind just forward of the beam, we played all the sail options. First we had everything out, but I (Dena) pulled the first reef in the main before 10am. That eased the helm for the Monitor, then James rolled in some staysail when it got brisk. He pulled it back out before his hour was up in a 10-knot wind on the beam. In the lulls, the wind shifted forward and we stalled[…]

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