Last September, Colin Angus and fiancée Julie Wafaei set off from Lisbon on a quest to row across the Atlantic. After 121 days, they made their first landfall on St. Lucia, where they replenished supplies and rested for 12 days before resuming their journey to Costa Rica.
Beneath a cloud-scudded sky, terns circle our boat, as though curious about such a strange vessel on the Caribbean Sea. St. Lucia and all her comforts lie seven days behind us, and our brief visit to this Caribbean island now seems like a fading dream.
The Caribbean is living up to its reputation for producing steep, choppy waves, but we have been lucky with the weather and, so far, have encountered no storms.
The equatorial currents are funnelled through this body of water, as they move toward the Gulf of Mexico, and at times we rode three-knot currents in our favour.
It was hard returning to the sea with the toil, monotony and dangers of our 121-day passage from Lisbon still fresh in our minds. But the proximity of Costa Rica, the end of our 10,000-kilometre row, buoys our spirits and keeps us pulling hard on the oars. Our fresh supplies also help to keep us motivated and strong.
The wildlife in the lee waters of the Caribbean islands is turning out to be almost as plentiful as that in the open Atlantic. Schools of flying fish, chased aloft by predators below, skim above the wave tops for hundreds of metres. And yesterday a four-metre-long shark paralleled the boat for several hundred metres, its unusually thin, sickle-shaped fin slicing through the water's surface like a knife. St.
Lucians informed us that February is when pilot whales come to the Caribbean to breed, and we have already seen two of the graceful creatures surfacing for air.
Julie and I are beginning to feel like marine mammals ourselves, having spent so many months living our primitive lives in this watery world. We drink the water, eat the fish, and our lives revolve around the rhythms of the Atlantic Ocean.
Although the end of our voyage is drawing near, it is far too soon to relax. Our pilot charts indicate that we will be encountering rough seas as we pass near the top of Colombia. In the midst of this windy region, it will be crucial for us to angle more to the south against the northwest currents in order to reach Limon, Costa Rica.
If the winds and currents overpower our relatively weak rowing efforts, we will be swept toward a mass of reefs off the coast of Honduras.
Early placement of our vessel is essential in making a good line to Limon. But we will also be relying on good luck — without a diesel engine or set of sails, a sudden change of winds or current could quickly spell disaster.
For more information, visit www.expeditioncanada.com.
