Silver Linings

Michelle's Dolphin

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The sun sets off San Ignacio, Baja California Sur

March 5, 2022

The weather had continued to be wonderful, with the wind to our backs and gently following seas.

We are on our way to Bahia Magdelena to wait out a predicted low pressure system that was to bring with it twenty to twenty five knot winds. Brad was not completely comfortable with his knowledge of how Eclipse would handle the open sea and wanted to sit it out. “Mag Bay” is a thirty one mile long lagoon on the Western coast of Baja. It is protected from the Pacific Ocean by small sandy uninhabited islands, Isla Magdalena and Isla Santa Margarita. It is about seven hundred and twenty miles south of San Diego.

The protection afforded the bay by those two islands, coupled with warm water and abundant sea life, brings calving gray whales from Alaska every year. Naturally, a nascent industry sprang up to cater to the eco-tourists who wished to whale watch from the months of January through mid April. Marine scientists also arrived, setting up bases in the interest of studying and protecting the whales and the bay from over-tourism and exploitation. We were planning on staying a few days while the guys worked on the fuel transfer system and as an added bonus we would get to do some whale watching.

Timing was tricky as we moved from bay to bay. Arrivals had to be calibrated during daylight hours for safe anchoring. Fishing boats, other nearly invisible small boats, shifting sand shoals and moorings were all major hazards, so visibility while entering any bay was crucial. The trip from Bahia de Tortuga to Bahia Magdelena would take about twenty hours. After charting our course, it was decided we would leave in the early afternoon to time our arrival for early morning. We would motor all night with no stops.

While underway, Dean and I focused on wading through the hundreds of administrative tasks that needed attention, while occasionally getting an opportunity to enjoy the amazing coastline of Baja. We had a folder on board; I call it the “boat bible”; that was slowly being filled with all the necessary documentation and licenses we needed as we traveled from port to port. Our learning curve was more like a straight line, straight up. Most superyacht owners hire management companies to handle these things. They have a staff full of people who are knowledgeable and experienced at making sure all the “i’s” are dotted and “t’s” are crossed. It is the rare owner that wants to be bothered with all the nitty-gritty of managing a boat or a crew, let alone both. Dean and I had spoken to several companies, and while they presented as extremely professional and helpful, experience when dealing with these kinds of professionals told us this; if someone at these companies dropped the ball, there would be no accountability and little help. Speaking for myself, I hate giving money to people to do things I know I can figure out how to do and will likely do better. Plus, I hate not understanding how things work and if we were unable to reach one of these people in an emergency, we had to know how to handle it. Dean is the same way in that he also does not like being ignorant of the rules and regulations. These management companies charge a whopping sum of money for their services while simultaneously offering nothing in the way of guarantees - if something slipped through the cracks - whoops, sorry; and we would be the ones to pay, (a great gig if you can get it.) Being the control freaks that we are and experienced with “professionals”, we opted to learn things ourselves instead of outsourcing them. This had the advantage of offering us something the professionals could not - we could always shrug our shoulders and claim “ignorance” if we missed something. We just had to hope that whatever authority we were dealing with would be forgiving. In the end, it has been a great strategy and has saved us tens of thousands of dollars. But it did have a cost - time and a sometimes painful and costly education. (I will get to that).

Among the seemingly endless list of items that needed our attention: arranging temporary slips, having the paperwork in order for different countries’ customs officials, documenting the crew, getting visas, tracking, auditing and paying invoices, making sure we had all the banking information we needed to pay the crew, setting up foreign accounts, learning about taxes and duties owed to each country we entered, finding competent people around the world to work on specialty systems, making sure our insurance was adequate and acceptable to the different marinas, arranging to change our flag of registry from Jamaica to the U.S., (that was a big one that I accomplished without the help of the law firm that wanted me to pay over six thousand dollars for their “expertise”), sourcing parts and arranging to have them delivered, finding places to fuel and making appointments for fueling, learning about bunkering services, and making sure we planned where we could provision into the trip.

For us, every day was a full day. All we had for connectivity was our cell phones and a satellite phone that cost a fortune to use; plus was so slow it took a day to download a website; rendering it all but useless except for absolute emergencies. Dean never got a break - the crew and particularly Brad was constantly asking him for help in figuring our boat’s systems and “issues”, plus I listened to him yell in frustration when we were too remote to get a cell phone signal and he had bank business to do. I have a vision of him; standing at the top of the stairs in the back of the upper salon, phone held high, trying to get any signal so he could pay the bills. I was constantly researching, when I had a signal, or reading, sitting in on discussions and asking a lot of questions.

There was so much we needed to know. The feeling of being in over our heads had become a reality of near drowning. We were both exhausted by the never ending flow of information we needed to learn and the amount of research we needed to do. The boat’s documentation was missing all of the time and work done after the accident off Hawaii, which added another layer of complication. Phone calls to the shipyard for the invoices and descriptions had been stonewalled and we had no idea why. Even more frustrating was that when old parts or systems had been upgraded, instead of being removed they were left in place and the new ones built around them. It was hard to tell where the old one ended and the new one began. Brad and Lloyd had constant questions about repairs and upgrades for which we had no paperwork. The spec drawings for when she was built were missing vital information and the operational books, (I counted thirty two four inch plus about ten two inch notebooks), were full of obsolete equipment as well as missing vital information on how her upgraded systems operated. Different ‘experts’ whom we had on board had different answers about specs and tolerances than the manufacturers. There was no maintenance schedule or comprehensive book on the maintenance - the crew would have had to go through every page of every notebook; close to ten thousand; to find answers and many were not to be found. Eclipse is a custom yacht, so the crew was in the dark about her many innovative systems with no one to turn to for answers. There was no one to call; Alloy had closed it’s production doors six years prior. (In the background, I was on a mission to find her previous captain of twenty two years, Jono Wishart, hoping he could shine some light on our more complicated questions).

As a result, Dean spent most of his days crawling around in the bilges or studying winches and hydraulics to try and understand how they all worked. By the end of the day, he was bruised, battered and cut up - it was hardly the romantic trip I had envisioned. To coin a pun, Dean and I were like two ships in the night - on the same vessel and we barely saw or spoke to each other. At night, he was too exhausted to even discuss it.

Some things worked out well. I have very small hands, so it was tasked to me to get my hand and phone into spaces where I could take pictures of equipment labels for which no purpose could be identified. I would then research the item to identify its function, manufacturer and utility. Some days all I did was compile questions in my little notebook; pages and pages. I was already highly skeptical that we were ever going to pull off getting to Europe, although I dared not say that to Dean; his optimism was hanging by a thread already. The ‘road’ to Florida felt insurmountable and more than once I internalized my conviction that we were never going to make it. I felt like we were in a train tunnel and the light I could see was not the end, but another train headed full steam straight for us. Eclipse was much more complicated and took much more effort and energy than we had ever dreamed. The worst part, however, was that the ‘professional’ highly experienced crew we had hired were as overwhelmed, befuddled and frustrated as we were.

The one thing I could really look forward to was some Baja sunshine and warm Mexican, Pacific water. We were not yet halfway to Cabo San Lucas and the weather had not yet turned ‘Mexico’ warm, but I knew it would; soon. We were about twenty miles offshore as we motored down the coast to our next stop. With the ten knot wind to our backs and no spinnaker, (Brad had shipped it to the East Coast to be picked up when we arrived in Florida), sailing was out of the question. Everyone was excited for cell phone coverage as we had little for the last four days. (Jason in particular got very moody when he could not speak to his girlfriend). With thoughts of tacos, beer, mariachis and sunshine dancing in my head, as well as my excitement about the whales, Dean and I headed to bed around 9:00 after dinner and a nice bottle of wine. The stay sail was up and the boat was steady as I drifted immediately off to sleep, the sounds of the engine no longer an impediment to rest.

Tomorrow morning, we would wake up in Magdalena Bay.

I was awakened by Dean gently shaking my shoulder. I opened my eyes - my world was warm, dark and blurry. “What? What? What time is it? Is everything okay??” I am not one who likes being awoken from sound slumber, so I was already annoyed. Excitedly and somewhat breathlessly I heard him saying “Honey….honey…get up! You have to come up on the deck and see this!! He turned and immediately hurried back upstairs.

At his tone, I woke up instantly, turned on the cabin lights, quickly put on some warm clothes and slippers, and headed up top. As I came out the salon doors, a warmer and softer air gently caressed my face - Mexican ‘winter’ approaching. Lloyd was at the helm on the midnight to six a.m. shift - sitting at the curved bench in front of him was Micah, bundled up and reading. It was a little after 3:00 a.m. The lights at the helm were dim and red, and the only other lighting came from the steaming lights and mast lights that identified us to other boats. I glanced at Lloyd, asking “where did Dean go?” He pointed to the bow. I immediately began to make my way forward.

It still surprises me how long it takes to get from the stern to the bow of Eclipse. She is far and away the biggest private boat I have been on. The difference between a seventy foot boat and Eclipse is many more steps than felt reasonable - I still wasn’t used to it. When I finally got to the bow, Dean was leaning over the rail, scanning the water. “Honey, look! Look!”

My eyes were still adjusting to the darkness. The sky all around was inky black; there were no lights anywhere to reference land and no moon overhead; where the sky met the sea it was a seamless canvas of all consuming black. Above me, I could make out few stars, as the climbing humidity filled the air with moisture that from sea level obscured all but the brightest. There was little wind, as Eclipse was traveling at approximately the same speed as the wind and in the same direction, so in essence they cancelled each other out. I leaned over the water and looked. As I watched, little green lights began to appear, darting here and there and then vanishing into the black. It was phosphorescence! The algae in the water lit up at every movement. I leaned further to watch the water splash off the bow; it cascaded in a shower of green fireworks as it became airborne and hit the water again. Dean was super excited, “there were dolphins! I don’t know where they went but I wanted you to see them! It was so beautiful! Amazing…oh man, where did they go?”

I scanned the ocean ahead of the boat, and as I watched I saw exploding green streaks move out of our way as we cut through the water. Further ahead I saw a large pool of green, which, startled by our approach, exploded into underwater streams of light moving in every direction. Soon I saw a large object swim quickly away - something bigger but not identifiable. The ocean was full of green sparklers, moving in every direction all around us. It was surreal. I can’t remember every seeing anything so beautiful in my life. The only sound I could make was “Oh! Oh my Gosh! Oh!”

“Oh honey, I’m so sorry…I wanted you to see the dolphins! They were riding the bow wake - unbelievable. I can’t believe they left right when you got here!”

I looked up at my husband. As much as I was enjoying the amazing light show, something I had seen a few times (but never like this), I was even more happy that he was so thrilled by it. My anxiety over how this man who was prone to motion sickness and nausea would handle the open ocean melted away as I watched the eight year old version of the person I loved more than anything in the world fill with awe and excitement, dazzled by the beauty of the sea.

For a few minutes we watched the spectacle, a few “oohs” and “wows” breaking the silence. We waited - but no dolphins appeared. Finally, after about twenty minutes, I said “It’s okay Dean - this is enough. I am so glad you woke me up. I would never have wanted to miss this. I’m gonna go lay down on the deck and just enjoy this for a few more minutes. Maybe they will come back”. From behind me, Dean put his arms around my shoulders and kissed my neck. “Okay. I’ll join you”. With that, we lay on the deck just behind the front locker lid, hands behind our heads, looking up at the stars.

After a minute or two, Dean spoke. “You know what? This would be a good time to pray”. He turned to me. “Let’s hold hands”. I nodded and grabbed his hand, then shut my eyes, focusing on his voice and words, making them as much mine as his as he began to pray. “Heavenly Father, thank you so much for your amazing blessings. Thank you for this opportunity; for Eclipse, for the crew, for this beautiful place where we are able to see and enjoy your amazing creation. Thank you for the challenges and hardships that we may learn and grow into the likeness of your Son, Jesus, as we work through them. Father, we ask that you keep Eclipse and everyone on her safe. Provide us with the people and resources we need to see this journey through. Grant us, and the crew, wisdom and understanding of how Eclipse operates. Guard and protect us from calamity and injury. Bring a spirit of peace and collaboration to us all. May your spirit indwell us so that we may be light and salt to the crew and everyone we meet; ambassadors for You and Your Kingdom. May people see You when they meet us. Watch over us as we travel to Florida. Help us to make wise decisions as we continue our journey. Deepen our faith through your calling. Watch over and protect those we love, and every day God we ask that you draw our children nearer to you so that they will know you as we do. Thank you for the gift of our salvation, Jesus. It is in His name we pray. Amen”.

We both sat silent, in awe of what we were experiencing and of the One who had made it possible. With a slight shiver, I finally spoke, “Honey, I am going back to bed, okay? I’m getting cold”.

Dean was silent for a few seconds, then said, “And Father God, if it be your will, please send a dolphin for Michelle”.

I smiled as I gently eased myself up from the deck; the hard teak was not as easy to stand from as it had been when I was younger. Slowly, Dean followed suit. We stood up and he held me, my face buried in his chest as he glanced one more time over the rail. “Well, it looks like I wasn’t meant to see any dolphins tonight. Maybe another night”.

All of a sudden, Dean let me go and exploded “DOLPHINS!! DOLPHINS!” I ran to the rail and looked down. Right under the surface, traveling the same speed as Eclipse, I saw what looked like a green torpedo. The dolphin’s body was covered nose to tail in sparkling green light, leaving a white trail in the wake of its tail. The effect was that the dolphin’s body looked like it was lit by a glowing green fire. Unable to take my eyes away from what I was seeing, I groped the rail up to the front of the bow while the dolphin played in the bow wake, turning sideways to glance up at us through the glowing water. It is one of the most astounding sights I have ever seen.

Dean and I ran from port to starboard, watching “Michelle’s” dolphin as it shot from side to side, riding the wake, winking at us through the water. With a few lightning fast flicks of its tail, back and forth it went, now on the port, now on the starboard, seeming to laugh as it surfed the wake in a glowing green cloud.

Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, it darted away, disappearing into the black ocean.

We were speechless. One dolphin, out of nowhere. Dolphins never travel alone, always in groups. This was certainly an answer to Dean’s prayer. Neither of us spoke as we made our way back to our cabin. It was close to 4:00 a.m.

That dolphin will always be “Michelle’s dolphin”, and nobody or nothing will ever convince Dean or I that he/she was not a direct answer to prayer; a clear communication from God to assure us that He is here with us, answering prayers not only that we ask, but even and especially the one’s we didn’t even know to pray for. Since that night, we have prayed and God has delivered a ‘dolphin’ - every single time. Maybe not immediately, maybe not the way we had hoped, and not just once or twice - every. single. time. We now take eyes wide open notice of the small mercies and ways that God lets us know He is with us - thanks to a prayer He answered that in any other circumstance would have been difficult to make so obvious. Eclipse has been an instrument for so many of these messages from Him - and for a deepening of our faith that makes it difficult to feel any fear about any of our difficulties.

What a gift.

We have had many opportunities for disaster with Eclipse. We were ill prepared for the adventure we dared to undertake and in retrospect it is clear that Eclipse was barely prepared, either. The only consistency we have had is our reliance on God to get us through. And here we are.

To Be Continued.