17/05/2024
I turned the ignition key and started Nara’s Volvo D2-55 engine for the first time seven years ago this month. Since then, dozens, if not hundreds of times. She has been such a huge part of our lives - living on her for many months each year, we have covered 7500 miles and visited 12 countries together.
During these seven years it has sometimes been hard to remember that she is a floating mass of fiberglass, machines, wires, ropes, and other inanimate things. There have been many times when it seems as though Nara is communicating with us. She has saved us from impending danger, sometimes just moments away, through revelations that can’t be described by normal logic. Expressing her joy when reaching through open seas - petulance when tied up or neglected. We have vivid imaginations I guess. Just like most sailing cruisers we know!
Last week, I needed to turn the key one final time. One last journey of just 25 miles from Tortola to Saint Thomas where we would meet up with Stadiongracht, a cargo ship who would be delivering her to her new owners 1,800 miles away. I turned the key and instead of the perky whirl of the start motor, followed by the comforting hum of the engine and splashing of engine cooling water - we heard a faint whine, watched the instrument needles jump, pause, quiver, and die. Dead silence. A new Start battery with a full charge and 850 cold cranking amps not up to the task. Really? … Did I mention her petulant side?
We eventually overpowered Nara’s resistance with an insurmountable supply of boosted amperage and made it to our rendezvous. Underway, she fought back for the first 15 minutes or so before realizing the inevitable and settling into a smooth and efficient journey. At least that’s how it seemed to us - and our vivid imaginations I guess.
Nara is now loaded in a cradle on the deck of Stadiongracht, welded securely to the ship and on her way. We toasted her farewell in Saint Thomas with excellent French Champagne and Dominos pizza. In true island fashion they delivered the wrong pizza. We have learned to expect that level of service in the Caribbean.
We have mixed emotions. First mate shed some tears. Captain did as well – although for a different reason. It’s time to move on to a new adventure. We have learned that we enjoy spending our time together - even in confined spaces. We enjoy approaching complex new problems as a team. Whatever the next adventure is - it should be pretty cool.
