O Captain! I'm Captain!

San Teodoro, Mabini, Batangas to Maricaban Bay, Busuanga, Palawan, Philippines
31 October 2012

I’m Paraluman’s first mate and my husband, Raul, is the skipper or captain. That means that he’s at the helm, makes all the decisions and shouts out orders which I carry out immediately. He stands behind the wheel and the navigation instruments while I do all the physical non-thinking work. I run around the boat, pull the lines, grind the winches, set the travelers, lift and drop the anchor.

Windsurfing, still my alltime favorite kind of sailing because it's sooo fast!

I’ve been sailing for 20+ years- windsurfing, hobie cat and dinghy sailing, crewing for a keelboat for 10+ years, and recently started kiteboarding. But there’s something about helming a big keelboat like Paraluman that intimidates me until now. Being used to windsurfing where control is within reach of my own hands and feet and the response is instantaneous, I still can't get used to Paraluman’s size and am easily frightened when she heels or it’s time to gybe or tack.

Raul, my husband and captain

Our past sailing trips are always relaxed and made up of short hops between destinations. We never sail at night and break long trips into several legs. We aim to be anchored safely by mid-afternoon so we are grilling our steaks and drinking our vodka tonics by sunset.

Today Raul and I are sailing from Batangas to Busuanga, Palawan for my month long furlough. It is a 111 nautical mile trip estimated to take 20 hours. We can’t break our trip into several legs as we usually do because of Raul’s tight work schedule. This means that we have to do 2 things that I’ve always evaded- sailing at night and for me to take the helm sometime.

Raul has been working late for consecutive days and is exhausted even at the start of the trip. I pretend to be brave and tell him that I am ready to take the helm anytime he is tired and needs to take a nap. Deep inside though, I plan to keep him awake and hope he can hold up till we get to Busuanga.

Sunset on one side and moonrise on the other

We left Pugad, our home in Batangas, at 9am and were blessed with ideal conditions- 20 knots of downwind and gentle swells, blue skies and sunny weather. Even the notorious Calavite Passage put on her best behavior (Raul and I have a personal fear of Calavite Passage but that deserves another story). We had dolphins to entertain us. We were blessed with a spectacular sunset which turned the sky and the waters into overlapping shades of reds and oranges. As we were watching this show, I happened to turn around and saw the moon rising from behind the hills of Mindoro- a big round ball which turned from pale white to a shimmering silver as it slowly rose and cast a shiny reflection on the water. It felt like Wimbledon as we watched the sunset and moonrise at the same time.

As night came, the wind went down to 10 knots and the water turned flatter. The full moon put on its maximum power and lit up our surroundings like a giant searchlight. The conditions couldn’t have been more perfect. Raul and I couldn’t find the words to describe the beauty around us. We sat quietly and felt blessed to witness this splendor.

View from El Rio y Mar, our destination

Just before midnight, the inevitable happened. Raul fell asleep. I had no choice but to take the helm. I was very anxious so I turned up the music loud and started singing along with the Eraserheads. Before I knew it, I was happy and enjoying myself. I quickly developed a pattern. Check the course, scanner, depth and sails. Look left for boats, buoys, or rocks and islands that might not be on the chart plotter. Then look to the right. Repeat every 10 minutes. All this while singing at the top of my lungs. When Raul woke up 2 hours later, I realized that I actually helmed  by myself, at night without crashing Paraluman, kept good time and had fun.

For seasoned sailors who sail nonstop for days in high winds and waves, what I did was easy, even laughable, considering the perfect conditions and the short time duration. I know it was a small thing and that passages will not always be this easy and enjoyable. Whatever. It was a milestone for me as a captain. One small step at a time.


Sailing notes: Did the 111 nm trip in 18 hours averaging 6.2 knots. Moored in El Rio y Mar. The mooring buoys are difficult to find in the dark so I recommend calling ahead to request for assistance if you arrive at night.