The Doldrums

We were a week or two
Out of Hawaii
Sailing South
On the Yacht Araner.
As we neared the equator
The Trade Winds
Died down
And our pace slowed
Until we were
Completely becalmed.
The entire ocean became
Glassy smooth
From horizon to horizon
As far as the eye could see.
The boat rocked
Back and forth,
Back and forth,
Chaffing the lines
One after another,
Until they all broke.
Having no wind
Is hard on a sail boat
In many, many ways
And sometimes harder on the crew.
We struggled to keep
The mainsail tied down
But every time a line broke
It flopped violently,
Slinging itself
From side to side.
I made the mistake
Of trying to hold on
To one of the lines
That broke.
I was raised
Instantly about fifty feet
In the air
Then hurled
From side to side
Holding on for dear life.
Luckily, I was able to
Land back on the deck
Without serious injury
Or further damage to the boat.
We used the rocking
Of the boat
To catapult us
Over the side.
In a dare-devil
Diving competition.
If our timing was not perfect
Then we would land
Smack on the deck
Instead of in the ocean.
Having been a cliff diver,
I could have easily won
By starting out
From the crows nest,
But I challenged the others higher
One rung at a time.
The competition was called off
After I narrowly missed
The side of the boat.
On one of my jumps.
Having run out of wind
We motored for the next
Thousand miles or so
Chugging along
Ever so slowly
For weeks on end.
There was a reason why
These were called
The “Horse Latitudes”
Or the Doldrums.
The old time sailing ships
Didn’t have motors
And could be stuck there
For months on end
Running out of food and water
To feed the horses.
When that happened
They would have little choice
But to throw them overboard,
Thus the area got its name.
It is an equatorial band
Extending around the globe
With no prevailing wind direction
That can be a few hundred miles wide
Or several thousand miles across
Depending on the season.
As the weeks went on
We also began
To run low on food
And our water became foul.
On the southern side
Of the Doldrums
We were tortured with
Sporadic thunder showers
That never seemed to occur
Exactly where our boat was.
For days on end
All the water we needed
Poured and poured
Just beyond our reach.
When we finally did connect
With a local cloud burst,
All we had to collect the water
Running off our sails
Was our little dingy
Which masqueraded as a lifeboat.
It actually ended up being
A fairly useful little boat
For collecting water
After we strained the paint chips out.
That actually
Was about all
The dingy was good for.
It later sank six times on us
Ferrying supplies back
From Fanning Island.
The insanity of fifteen people sailing
The Pacific Ocean
Without even one serviceable lifeboat
Dawned on me some years later.
I can tell you this though,
That rain water sure tasted good
As we stood around on deck
With our heads turned up
And our mouths wide open
Catching every drip we could.
Then we each grabbed
A bar of soap,
Lathered up and had
A most enjoyable shower.
Finally the winds picked up
And we could turn
That noisy engine off
And get back to
The business of sailing
And someday reaching land.