Sailing over the green bits, why did the engine cut out, and fish!

Alexandra Bevis

As the day draws to a close, we pull up the anchor and set off on an overnight sail to Banco Chinchorro, the second largest atoll on the planet, where we are hoping to spend some time snorkelling and scuba diving. As we motored into the sunset (no wind), Ben launches the drone to capture the candyfloss sky. Sadly, this will transpire to be its final flight. It’s the third drone to be lost off Argonaut this year. Come 2100, it’s my watch. The stars are bright, and the moon is getting bigger every night. Disconcertingly, the B&G chart plotter says we are going over land. Yet, according to Navionics, we have 100+ metres of water. We think Navionics is right, I can’t relax into what should be a fairly straightforward watch, just motoring. Then, the depth gauge starts decreasing below my comfort zone. It doesn’t match what the chart says even on Navionics, and B&G has us approaching another blob of land. I consult Ben, who is still milling around after his watch. We start turning to port, away from the danger. But then, the engine revs started faltering unexpectedly. And then the engine cuts out altogether. Here we go again. Jib out. Charles and Sam are in the engine room problem solving. On deck, we notice the hilariously fast increase in current: 1.6 knots, the next time I look 2.2 knots, then 2.3. We are now heading due East, away from land, we are now starting to move into the Gulf Stream, which for us is adverse current (we want to head South, the current runs North). After some foreplay, Charles gets the engine running again. It turns out that the engine panel switch was knocked, starving the engine of fuel, causing it to cut out. It’s in a really easy place to knock, so changing the switch is being added to our never-ending snagging list. We were noisily on the move again. Just as everyone had settled into sleep: click, click, click, click, click goes the fishing rod. It keeps going like mad. I wake Ben. He starts to reel it in. It’s a big one. I slow down to help him. Of course, Charles and Sam wake up to the change in pitch and are suddently up and about, worried something is wrong. After a team effort to reel it in and filleting it, a plan was hatched - to pair it with buttery new potatoes for dinner the following night. By the time the fish fillets were in the fridge, it was midnight, and time to hand over the watch to Charles - no rest for the skipper, yet again! I awake abruptly to the sound of the revs changing up and down on the engine a few times. I crawl out of bed and find Ben in the engine room, refilling the day tank. “Go look on the transom” he says. Sleepily, I make my way up on deck. On the transom, there is a huge barracuda. Ben: I caught a fish! He is beaming! I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so happy, he is smiling with his eyes. We are nearly there, so I snooze on deck. We anchor, switch off the engine, and at last there is some peace. We promptly fall into the water. The visibility is insanely clear. It’s going to be a good day.