Bermuda seemed like a dream of a harbor. The high cliff walls blocked the wind and the narrow pass into the harbor kept all the seas at bay. We were anchored in a little oasis in the middle of the ocean.
Once we were anchored, I went to sleep with strict orders to everyone else not to wake me. I laid the staysail and jib over the forward hatch to completely block out any sunlight from entering the V-berth (yet another advantage of tanbark sails, they make excellent blackout curtains on a boat) and went to sleep.
A sleep that would not be interrupted by weather, watch schedules, or navigation. A sleep that would last as long as I desired, as long as I needed, as long as I wanted.
Aside from the magical sleep, was waking up to this scenery around us. For the past three weeks, the view from the cockpit when I would wake up was the image below.
Sails would be set, the sun would be out on the horizon, and we would be completely alone. All of a sudden, we are surrounded by other boat, and most of all, civilization!
Anchoring in St. George’s Harbor is exactly what we needed to give us a rest from the voyage and let us recharge our personal batteries.
Soon, the stopover in Bermuda will feel like a distant memory, for we will once again return to the vast empty horizon of the open ocean, but this time without our crew member. It will just be Maddie and me, alone on our floating home, traveling across the great blue ocean.
