Building and Sailing Thlaloca Dos
Thlaloca
Dos
was
launched in May of 1975. In November we set sail for points south. Sailing
inside and outside, depending on wind and weather. We made Florida early the
following year. We departed Boot Key Harbor in May, our course set for Bermuda:
we got to after an uneventful passage. Falmouth, England, was next. It was the
year of one of the Single-handed Transatlantic Race's from Plymouth, England to
Newport, R. I. . Listen in on the reports it spoke of terrible weather; of lost
boats and lives. At that point our position was some 300 miles south of the bad
weather area, hove-to for lack of wind. The weather being so gorgeous, we were
varnishing! But all along we had difficulty keeping our eyes away from the
northern quadrant from where an unbelievably huge swell was coming from. The
swell was literally the height of a mountain range and perhaps half a mile
between crests. It had us very much concerned. When these mountains rolled
underneath the boat, we looked into an abyss which seemed as deep as the Grand
Canyon. The last time we observed such phenomenon was in the Indian Ocean,
sailing in Thlaloca. But nothing extreme happened. Three hundred
miles west of the Scilly Islands, a westerly wind increased to force 10. No
problem, however, T.D. (we refer to our good ship) did nobly, no sweat.
After a long passage, a landfall feels pretty good, and Falmouth was no
exception; more so to our dog, Dinghy. She was not allowed ashore, and this put
her in a foul mood. Our next landfall, Calais, France was more dog friendly.
There, after 35 days aboard, she sniffed the hind ends of other dogs for the
first time again. We sailed as far as Amsterdam, where we moored the boat in a
marina while visiting family and friends in Germany.
 |
Mid September we were ready to leave but a southwesterly wind blew too strong, which made departure impossible–and the English Channel, in inclement weather, is no place to fool around with. It curtailed our departure for a week. It was already October when we made Falmouth–considered late for crossing the Bay of Biscay. To make things worse, the wind kept on blowing hard from the southwest day after day. Desperation drove us to a foolish move, we left.
South
of Ushant, the wind increased, eventually to storm force (Beaufort 11), we lay a
hull. It was cold and extremely uncomfortable, and with a deadly coast to
leeward intensely worrisome. Those were the longest 26 hours in our lives. Once
it had moderated enough to carry sails again, we were unable to continue because
the storm had mangled our selfsteering to pieces of twisted steel. We decided
sailing back to Falmouth, where we, with the help of friends, repaired the
damage. By that time it was almost Christmas, and we were in no mood to leave.
Thus we spent an unpleasant winter in Falmouth. Unpleasant because Falmouth
attracts gales like a swamp does mosquitoes.
The following spring we sailed to Germany once more. Six weeks later we were back in Falmouth, and in August crossed the Bay of Biscay. On we sailed to Madeira, the Canary Islands, the West Indies, and home to Virginia.
In
1981 we were ready for another voyage. Two weeks after leaving the mouth of the
Chesapeake Bay, we arrived in the Azores. We had a lot of wind, consequently we
were rewarded with a fast passage. On three occasions T.D. sailed over two
hundred miles a day with not much more than a triple-reefed main’ and
stays’l. Between the Azores and Portugal, the wind blew very strong from
the north (Portuguese Trades). We were the happiest people once we had rounded
Cabo St. Vincente, and were safely anchored in the lee of it.
At Gibraltar we passed into the Mediterranean, where we spent the
winter in Alicante. It is a most attractive city, and the harbor safe in any
kind of weather. Early
spring of the following year we
meandered past Corsica, Italy, Greece, and as far east as Turkey.
From
there we back-tracked to the south coast of France. Where the mast was laid, and
we took on the Rivers Rhóne, Saóne, Mosell and Rhine. Opposing strong currents
made us appreciate a powerful engine. Still, on occasions our progress was
reduced to half a knot. Despite some limitations–currents and several hundred
locks–a trip through the European waterways is highly recommended.
We
entered the Baltic Sea at Travmünde, Germany, where T.D. got her mast back.
From there we sailed to Sweden, Denmark, Norway, and across the North Sea to
Scotland. A wonderful country with equally wonderful people, no doubt, but it
rained every day of the six weeks we were there. We remember taking a bus ride.
Sitting behind the driver, I happened to look through the windshield and spotted
a glimmer of the sun. I was so surprised that I blared out, “Look! The sun!”
The driver, equally surprised by my outburst, retorted very casually in his
strong Scottish accent, ”Sure glad
you pointed it out to me, mate, now I know what the sun looks like!”
Leaving
Ireland for Spain, moderate to strong southwesterly winds gave us a hard time.
Once in Portugal, the north with all its unpleasant weather–rain, fog,
gales–was behind us and we looked forward to enjoying the distinctive southern
ambiance; perpetual sunshine; gorgeous people; lovely music.
Via
the beautiful island of Madeira we sailed to the Canary Islands. There, a
thousand boats were waiting for the end of the hurricane season to cross the
Atlantic, to the Americas. We were one of them! We eventually sailed to the Cap
Verde Islands, and from there to Martinique in the West Indies. We were back in
the Chesapeake Bay after more than five of the most wonderful years of cruising.
We got unbound pleasure in sailing our beautiful ship, which did so nobly during
all our cruising, especially then when we had already succumbed to inevitable
disaster on at least one occasion.