Free A Sail of Two Idiots by Renee Petrillo

to recalculate his bearings because I
really
thought something was wrong (this was
my
boat, right?).
    Turns out he had entered the wrong coordinate and, now corrected, his GPS meshed with my chartplotter. Yep, both now confirmed that we were two hours off course.
    I was too frustrated to gloat. Any hope of getting to Great Sale Cay before dark was long gone. Because of the miscalculation, a 40-mile jaunt turned into a 49-mile jaunt, costing us precious time. Motoring on one engine didn’t help either.
    LESSON 23: TRUST YOUR INSTINCTS Look in the mirror and say, “I trust you.” This was one of the biggest lessons I learned on our trip. You’ll be amazed at how smart your inner voice is when you allow yourself to listen to it.
    Here came another sunset, albeit a beautiful one. And then it was dark.
    We arrived on Great Sale Cay at 8:30 p.m. This time we did anchor … with one engine. You know, there’s a reason why catamarans have two engines. One side counters the other. Put them both in the same gear at an equal speed and you go straight. Use only one engine and you go off in one direction and wind up turning in a large circle. There is a way to finesse this or you can simply drop your dinghy and use it as your other engine, but we didn’t know about any of those options yet, and apparently neither did Captain Tim. So we spun around trying to get the anchor set and hoped no one could see us in the dark (luckily we were alone). If you make a fool of yourself and no one sees, did it really happen?
    Once anchored, all the worries of the day fell away. Sure we had a teensy engine fire and a slight detour, but we also had our first great sail and a dolphin visit to boot! We were in a place different from the day before and would be going to a new place the next day too. We were cruising!
Allans-Pensacola Cay
    The next morning was incredibly calm. I’d never seen anything like it. This is the ocean! How deceptive it could be. Kind of like a sleeping baby! We tentatively turned on both engines, and all was well. Not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth, we pretended that nothing had happened the day before and motored on. We got about 10 miles into the 38-mile trip when the “good” engine started belching the black stuff. What the …?!
    This time we shut down everything and took a look. The water was so clear, despite the 18-foot depth, that we could clearly see the sea grass that was hooked on the propeller. So Michael bravely grabbed his snorkel gear, tied himself to the boat, and dove into the frigid (about 80 degrees—okay, so we’re wimps) water. He pulled a big wad of sea grass out of both propellers, so once we restarted the engines (minus the ominous billowing black smoke this time), we picked up considerable speed.
    At one point I looked down at the chartplotter and noticed the date—11/10; it was my birthday! Happy forty-first birthday to me! I received the best gift ever when, after an uneventful motorsail, we enjoyed a sunny 3 p.m. arrival. We even had time to practice some boat stuff, like anchoring, steering with the engines, and tying knots.
    We were blissfully alone, so we didn’t feel self-conscious putting ourselves through the maneuvers again and again. Gaining confidence, I was starting to feel like Bill Murray’s character in the movie
What About Bob:
“I’m saiiiiliiiing!”
Green Turtle Cay
    The third morning in the Bahamas was just as calm as the previous one. That meant no sailing. Sigh. It’s hard to learn how to sail that way …
    We gunned the diesels and headed about 25 miles to our “final” destination of Green Turtle Cay. Hey, this sailing thing was pretty easy! Just turn on the engines and hit the autopilot! Sheesh!
    During this hop, we (I) learned how to use cruising guides, charts, and my trusty chartplotter to select and create routes that would keep us clear of any nasty water obstructions (like other