Port Antonoio Jamaica...Mon

Stahlratte April 13...off Jamaica

On the evening of April 9^th, the bikes were loaded onboard without incident. While it was tough to watch Captain Ludwig mandhandle Blondy onto the rubber raft for the transport to the Stahlratte, I knew that he had done this transfer before, and he did know what he was doing.

The next morning, the moto people and the other travellers gathered at the dock for the embarkation from South America.

I was very pleased to see that the crew had done an excellent job of wrapping the bikes. There was no way that waves and water were going to drown the bikes...

Soon, we were underway and preparing to head for Jamaica...

Soon after leavetaking of Cartegana, the wind and the weather combined to serve me up with the biggest headache and case of nausea since my last drunk 26 years ago. Someone had asked me if I had my sea legs, and remembering the somewhat easy transit in December, I replied in the affirmtive.

After leaving the safety of the Cartgena headlands, and setting a course towards Jamaica, the winds picked up and the pitching of the boat was very noticeable to this Canuck, who lost all of his sea legs very quickly. Initially, I attributed my nausea and uneasiness to a bad hambuger that I had bought in the local square the night before. With the remains of the burger and anything else coming out of both ends, I sought some relief in my bunk. My bunk was forward in the bowels of the ship, and the rolling was just too much for my internal gyroscope, and I soon was looking for a better perch for the long night. I settled on a couch very near to the bathroom, knowing that I would be using it a lot during the night. I did not get any sleep the first night, and when the boat took and unusually big wave, I was thrown across the breadth of the boat. I remember sitting on the deck, thinking that a broken arm was a bitch of a way to end my ride. Fortunately, nothing on me was broken and I guess I had just been dreaming of the incident where my youngest son had broken his arm after a fall out of bunk on one of our beachombing expeditions off the west coast of Vancouver Island.

This was not the west coast, and the night was very long and stressful for most of the travellers as we struggled to adjust to the pitch and roll of the strong seas. The lack of sleep, a combination of another bout of food poisoning, and a definite case of sea sickness put me out of commission for the best part of three days. I would sleep fitifully, arise to pee and get some water, and then return to my bunk to try and regain some sort of sense of balance and to place the horizon in my brain where it should be, instead of the topsy-turvy messages that I was unable to decode sucessfully. Eating was out of the question, and while I was no longer up-chucking, I was not taking anything of substance in, either. After about 40 hours of heavy winds, the seas began to calm a bit, and on the third day, as they say, I arose to a better view of the world.

Heading for Panama??

A girl from Toronna at the helm...

The skipper decided to head around the western end of Jamaica, in order to avoid further headwinds..

Going fishing...

Look what flew into the boat....

 Making the turn around the northwestern tip and heading for port...

 Port Antonio,  Jamaica....

 Finally we land...