Yesterday, we sat drifting a few miles off the coast of the Nicoya Peninsula (Costa Rica). We were dead in the water, literally. There was no wind and a hole in our engine. Major problems. About 50 miles from the spot that we were to rendezvous with my mom and her beau. We'd sailed overnight from Tamarindo, actually had a nice breeze for a lot of the way. But we started the engine when Chris was taking over the watch at 2 am and water gushed out of a crack. What the...???
Well, we coasted along slowly until dawn. Chris mashed some epoxy-clay stuff into the hole and waited for it to dry, waited for daylight, waited for a miracle. He was entirely unconvinced that it would hold. I slept.
At dawn, I woke up, we started the motor and waited for another gush. It never came; the fix held. We motored the rest of the way as it was calmer than a Quaalude. After dropping the anchor, we breathed what was, for me, one of the biggest sighs of relief of my life. We wouldn't be stranding my mother. We'd get Christmas hugs and be with family and that is just about the best thing I can imagine.
Our troubles aren't over, and they will still cause many a headache but we've gotten a bit of a reprieve. As Chris says, we just need to have a little fun. Or a lot.
Merry Christmas everyone!
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