74 Hours At Sea
The first day after our thwarted attempt to voyage to Malta was mostly spent reading and napping. That evening as we were lounging after dinner I heard our water pump go on and off, on and off. It shouldn’t do that when there’s no demand for water. We checked all the faucets and drains but didn’t see anything leaking. Tom went into the commissary to check the hot water and discovered a slow drip from one of the lines. Upon trying to tighten it, the gasket shredded - we now had a major leak. I shut off the pump at the power panel and tossed Tom some towels. We were without running water but it was late and we decided to leave it for the time being and went to bed.
The next three days were spent trekking to and from the hardware store, plumbing store and chandlery trying a variety of solutions - some requiring glue to cure for several hours or overnight. After the first night of flushing the toilet with our 10 liter emergency jugs, Tom jury-rigged it each evening to make sure we at least had cold running water .
Meanwhile we tracked the delivery of a replacement raw water pump for our engine as well as the weather predictions. The pump was supposed to arrive in Split, Croatia, by the end of the day on Friday. We rented a car on Saturday to drive up to Croatia. Meanwhile, the weather was looking really nice for a departure on Monday so we also booked a ticket for Gary to fly back to Montenegro midday on Sunday. The plan was to install the pump Sunday morning, and time permitting, take the boat out for a quick shakedown before picking up Gary at the airport.
The drive to Split took about 6.5 hours. We crossed the Pelješac bridge which provides a fixed link from the southeastern Croatian region to the rest of the country while bypassing Bosnia and Herzegovina’s short coastal strip at Neum. We met the distributor with the pump in a parking lot (the store being closed on the weekend), had a quick bite to eat, and immediately turn around to drive 6.5 hours back to Montenegro. Taking turns at the wheel, I drove as we left Split and it turned out that in the late afternoon it’s considerably faster to avoid Dubrovnik and the bridge altogether. So I took the inland route. Tom had fallen asleep as we left the city only to be awoken as I slowed at the Bosnia border crossing!
As we waited in the line of cars to re-enter Montenegro I noticed a couple of young men on foot with backpacks. They looked nice and I told Tom I wanted to give them a ride. He agreed but suggested we wait until they had crossed the border as we did not want to take responsibility for them clearing customs. By the time we were through the border the backpackers were also in Montenegro, thumbs in the air. I pulled over. We rearranged our belongings and squeezed the two of them along with their big backpacks into our tiny vehicle. Micah (26) and Kamil (25) were from Poland and were hitch-hiking from Poland through several countries: Bosnia, Montenegro, Albania and on to Greece. We drove them as far as Podgorica, capital of Montenegro, about 90 minutes from the the border before we would turn south to Bar and left them to find somewhere to sleep before entering Albania the next day in the daytime. We talked about their travels, world politics and the environment, amongst other things. I was left wondering what kind of news and media they get in small town Poland? Their perspective on the world was surprising to us for Gen-Z’ers. They were opposed to Ukrainian refugees entering Poland, hoped Bosnia never joined the EU, thought Trump was a wonderful president, and though they expressed concern about the environment they were basically clueless - unaware they could even recycle their plastic water bottles.
Sunday morning dawned early and I awoke energized to prep for the voyage to Malta. Tom fixed the hot water (HOORAY!) and installed the engine pump. No time to test it out as it was time to head to the airport in Tivat to pick up Gary. This time, as he was already familiar with Meraki, we had a little breathing room. We needed to check weather and determine the best time to depart but other than that we were ready. We talked about more safety drills we could practice along the way (seas permitting) and learned how to do rope whipping which is the process of binding a rope end to prevent it from fraying and unravelling. We went out for a quick dinner and headed to bed.
Monday We left Bar Marina (please let this be the last time) at 0900, checked out of Montenegro at the Customs Dock and set sail at 0940. The seas were almost flat for the first few hours. We exited Montenegrin waters and I took down the courtesy flag. It was strange to cruise without a courtesy flag, we were not in any country - this being our first ‘blue water’ cruise. About three hours later we got into some long gentle swells pushing us from behind. The swell built to about 1 meter and more throughout the afternoon and continued into the night, finally settling down around 0100. Sleeping is difficult when the boat is rolling so that first night was a bit tough, but we made it further than we had on the first attempt and by mid morning we had rounded the heel of Italy.
Tuesday Having left the Adriatic behind we were once again in the Ionian Sea. The day was warm and sunny, the sea was flat calm - the perfect cruising conditions! We took the helm in turns, enjoyed some down time and took some well earned naps. Everything was quiet and peaceful. A couple of dolphins swam by on their way east. Tom decided to try his hand at fishing as we had finally purchased a rod and reel in Bar before departing. Within maybe half an hour he had a fish on! We slowed the boat to idle, but we hadn’t really thought this through - now what? Suddenly we were in a frantic scramble trying to clear the deck, find the fish hook, search for a glove and a knife. We tried to snag it with the hook from the back of the swim step but ultimately the line broke and it got away. At least I’d captured a few identification photos. In hindsight, we think it was a bonito (or bonita) which is in the same family as mackerel and tuna but has dark meat that is very oily and carries a more fishy flavor compared to other species. We would have sampled it (it being the first fish we caught on Meraki) but for now we don’t know what they taste like.
Day turned to night, I cooked dinner in calm conditions for once, we took our watches at the helm. I slept like a baby for 7 straight hours, arising for the 0400-0800 watch. I can’t describe watching the day arrive at sea. It is like no other sunrise, creeping up on you gently until you realize that daylight has overcome the darkness bringing with it a life-giving radiance along the horizon. I gazed aft and saw a ball of fire come out of the low lying clouds. Joy filled my heart as light and color fill the sky, a warmth filled the air, and stillness and promise nourished my soul.
“The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.
Don’t go back to sleep.”
– Rumi
Wednesday Another beautifully calm day with flat seas and sunshine. We were now passing the toe of Italy and could just barely make out Sicily on the horizon. We did some more fishing this time actually landing a small swordfish. I’d never filleted a swordfish, and I didn’t want to cut it into steaks which would be hard to eat in the dark, so I gave it my best shot being ever mindful of the sharp sword! My plan had been to cook a sort of chickpea curry for dinner but this would be 200% better! We caught another larger one - but again lost it on the swim step as it’s sword cut through the line. We have much to learn about fishing in the Mediterranean but we had enough for dinner in any case. The afternoon seas remained flat so we practiced more MOB drills. This time I was able to retrieve Barb completely unassisted. More practice is needed before it becomes second nature (and it stops making me anxious), but I’m getting there. It was our last full day at sea, we were closing in on Malta. In the afternoon Gary helped me develop a pilotage plan for arriving in the busy Grand Harbor in the Port of Valletta.
The buoy we saw looked much like this one. Photo credit: Queensland Government Hydraulics Laboratory
Thursday I awoke with a start from a deep sleep as the engines had suddenly throttled down to nearly an idle. It was 0300. I sat bolt upright and peered out the porthole. The cabin window is just above sea level and directly outside was a flashing light! I leaped out of bed, came up to the helm station and asked Gary if everything was alright. It wasn’t clear. Gary slowly spiraled in closer to the blinking light and I went out on deck with a flashlight. Please, PLEASE, don’t let it be the light on a lifejacket! My heart raced afraid of what we might find. As we got closer we realized it wasn’t a person, thankfully, but a spherical buoy with a weighted rope visible beneath the surface and an aerial antennae attached to the top. In hindsight we believe it was a wave monitoring buoy. We resumed cruising speed and motored on. Relieved, yet still amped up, I dressed for my watch at 0400. Tom, having gone to bed a midnight, slept soundly through the excitement.
Somewhere along the way we had passed out of the Ionian Sea and into the Central Mediterranean. We now had Malta within our sights! The seas were smooth with a long gentle swell and it was early in the day so we decided it was a good time to develop some procedural steps to pulling an actual MOB casualty onto the boat. Tom would be “the casualty” and as he would be laying still in the water for some time, he put on his wet suit before donning a life jacket. I lassoed him with a retrieval line we’d set-up and secured him to the boat. Next, the plan was to release the davit from it’s eyebolt on the roof and lower the hook through the hatch and down to the back deck where I could use it to lift a potentially unconscious person from the water. After a few trails and tribulations we sorted it out, but it needed refining. The problem was that once released from the roof eyebolt the heavy davit arm swings freely back and forth extending beyond the boat on the port side and crashing into the dinghy on the starboard side. We mentally designed a couple of carabiner loop lines to secure the davit arm directly above the hatch to prevent it from swinging. I would fashion some once we got to shore. It feels good to have a workable procedure - I did manage to drag Tom onto the swim step and up onto the deck without banging his head on the boat all that hard!
We stowed the MOB bag and continued on, crossing into Malta’s waters just before noon and hanging the Maltese and Q flags. The Port of Valletta is a natural deep-water harbor which extends for about 3.6 kilometers inland. It is actually two deep bays: Marsamxett Harbor (on the west side of Valletta) and Grand Harbor (on the east side of Valletta). The entire area is full of dozens of shipyards, freighter docks, wharves, and marinas.
I had arranged a berth for a few nights at a small marina in Marsamxett Harbor. I had been texting with the manager on and off throughout the previous week as I had had to reschedule our original booking for a week later - after repairing our engine. I was initially told the marina was completely full, as were all the others I had contacted, but he eventually confirmed that he would find a place for Meraki somehow. Upon our approach into the port he offered to drive us to the Customs Dock so that we would not have to tie up next to the giant freighters! We were so grateful for his assistance. The dock hands were at the ready when we arrived at the marina and by noon we were secured ashore at last.
I think we all felt a sense of accomplishment, we were both tired and satisfied. We broke out a bottle of wine and toasted our achievement before finally disembarking Meraki and walking to a shoreside restaurant, oddly called the ‘Bus Stop’, for dinner. I couldn’t have been more grateful to Gary for sharing his knowledge, for teaching with patience and a sense of humor, and above all, for his kindness and empathy. I look forward to crossing paths with him again.
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