SAILING TO THE GALAPAGOS ISLANDS REQUIRES EXTENSIVE PREPARATION, BUT THE REWARDS ARE OTHER-WORLDLY, AS JESSIE ZEVALKINK DISCOVERED
The first morning of passage I leapt out of my berth at 0600, seeking an hour alone. I’d hoped to rise earlier for a full two hours of dawn and silence, but one will do. This one hour I will revel in, before the heat and my son Otis awakens.
The relief of the build up to our departure from Acapulco caught me off guard over the previous night’s fire sunset. It had been a long and winding day, at the end of six months of preparation for this passage. Work had begun in early September, when an AIS transmitter and IridiumGo satphone were delivered to our doorstep in Michigan. Today, departure day, was February 4, and every single day since had been dedicated to this, but Alekona is ready to sail to South America.
Our passage plan was 10-12 days, crossing perpendicular through the wind gap of the Tehuantepec, where wind accelerates through the Chivala gap in Mexico. It’s the shortest distance over land that air flow can pass from the Gulf of Mexico to the Pacific Ocean, and it’s not uncommon to see gale or hurricane force winds in the winter months 300-500 miles offshore, while satellites have tracked its leftover swell 1,000 miles into the ocean. It is widely known as a precarious place for Mexican and Guatemalan fishermen who have a history of being perilously blown out to sea and it adds an element of challenge for sailors who are otherwise passing through some of the calmer rings of the globe. Timing the meeting between the force of Tehuano and Alekona is as important as not running a red light at a high speed intersection. Tehuano would happily T-bone us if we arrived too soon, or too late.
In the convergence zone, where the two halves of the world split into opposing dominant wind directions, we expected to be on port tack for half of our passage, tacking to starboard once clearing the Tehuano. The rest of the way to the Galapagos should be under light airs.
Our forecasts showed us the raging Tehuano was ultimately losing her breath. I give Luke, our navigator, full credit as he insists we leave when we do, trusting we would hit this junction with a steadfast green light. And we do: the seas are greater than the sustained winds, we never see much more than 25 knots. My friend Jane, and Otis and I stay inside for nearly two days through the slop, which was the exact opposite of what I actually want to do. But by day four of passage I am finally able to release the tension I have been hoarding.
There were four and a half of us on board – adream team. My tenacious husband Luke, a skil
