At daybreak and still hove to, we inspect Cutter Loose for damage. Last night’s storm has shredded the protective UV panel on the foot and leach of the furling genoa. With tattered sections of sailcloth streaming from the edges of the headsail, Cutter Loose gives the appearance of a rag doll. In addition, the Plastimo aluminum octahedral radar reflector has been reduced to something resembling a crushed soda can. These are minor concerns. We are pleased that there is no serious damage to the boat.
With the storm behind us now, we resume our journey southward in warm winds out of the southwest. At noon, we are 457 miles into the ocean passage to Tortola. Our spirits are lifted when a large wahoo takes the bait. But this toothy, gruesome-looking Houdini manages to escape during the critical process of being landed on the quarterdeck.
The crew is now fully settled into the routine of moving the boat 24/7, getting by on a few hours of sleep between watches. Managing to remain upright at a constant 20 degree heel while the boat plows through the residual 20 foot swells from the storm is quite the challenge. Even small tasks below in the cabin require considerable balance and forethought. The safest place to be is in the cockpit, tethered to the boat by our harnesses.