The storm was intense - yet not unlike the Iowa summertime fronts we often experience. At home these things are so impressive to watch roll in across the countryside. Most of us Midwesterners head outdoors to take a look when the storm sirens go off – not too often to the basement. However, this time we were not in Iowa. This time we were far away, on the ocean, and the wonder of nature was coming right down our mast after us in a blinding, deafening flash and explosion. Sparks were flying around in the cabin like a Hollywood pyrotechnic display and the air was thick with the dreaded smell of frying electronics. And then there was darkness except for a single cabin light that was flickering on and off and making sizzling noises just like R2D2 after the poor little fella was zapped by the Jawas. But, I get ahead of myself.

My wife, Roberta, and I are owners of a boat in the Moorings charter fleet. Our Beneteau 40, referred to by the Moorings as a 41.3 for some reason, calls home Belize C.A. She is known to us, however, as Weltevreden II – a Dutch term meaning ‘well pleased’. My sailing resume is about 8 years in length that had its beginnings when I purchased, on a whim, a good old Cherubini Hunter 25 vintage 1980. We sail around on a mud puddle known as Saylorville Lake, a few miles north of Des Moines, Iowa. This is an Army Corps of Engineers flood control project that now is the major water recreation attraction of the immediate area. And mud puddle or not – it’s the only show in town. I’ve found over the years, however, that the mud puddle can kick you pretty good if it wants to.

We’re new to this charter ownership business and definitely new to sailing the environs of Belize - so we stumble along reinventing the wheel with each new visit to our boat. To be brief, the people of the part of Belize we have come to know are wonderful and the Moorings operation, based out of Placencia in the Southern Stann Creek district of this coastal country, is managed and staffed by competent, caring and, might I add, very patient people. We’ve tested that latter attribute on a few occasions.

Weltevreden II at the dock - Placencia base, Belize C.A.

There are certain facts about Belize that make this area a demanding place to sail. Not every skipper that wishes to can qualify to bareboat there. As an owner I’m glad of that. Navigation can be tricky and difficult betwixt and between the numerous shallow spots with their stands of mangroves and the resultant small islands called cayes. The navigational charts are dated. Being located adjacent to a barrier reef that runs the length of the country, there are many reef, coral head and shifting sandbar issues with which to contend. As the barrier reef of Belize has been designated as an UNESCO World Heritage Site there are potentially serious financial penalties for coral reef groundings that await the skipper that does so and fails to report the incident – but, who is none-the-less discovered by the authorities. Recently one hapless soul was fined ~$1.7 million US for reef damage that occurred from a grounding determined to be caused by the skipper’s negligence. This nation is serious about protecting their major natural resource.

In addition, the weather is volatile. This point is to me the most serious challenge. Both Atlantic and Pacific weather patterns impact Belize making reliable weather forecasting a nightmare. The summer of the year (low season by charter rate schedules) is officially the hurricane season when tropical depressions and those peculiar bayamis that blow in from Honduras often visit Belize. And, there are no dedicated NOAA weather feeds on the VHF down there to help keep one informed of what is going on in the region.

Each morning @ 9 am the Moorings base reads the daily weather forecast supplied by the National Meteorological Service of Belize on VHF channel 74. Most mornings they sound just like the forecast of the days preceding saying that it’s going to be hot – damn hot – and humid too – and, oh yes, there are small craft advisories and some rain too – and wind, there’ll be wind also. But, then again, maybe it won’t be like that at all. We have found it is best if one takes each day as it comes without clinging to undue weather forecasting expectations.

The 9 am broadcast is set at that time for a reason because under no (well, maybe few) circumstances should any of the fleet be underway before that hour. The sun is too low before that time and this makes it difficult to gage depth changes by variations in water color. And if you’re not anchored by 4 pm and an incident with the boat occurs - then, as Ricky Ricardo would say, "you got some ‘splainin’ to do" to base Manager Renee Brown. They know what they’re talking about down there concerning these issues so it’s best to listen to them.

So…. the second half of June of this year (2009) we made another trek to Placencia to head out on Weltevreden for a couple of weeks – just Roberta & I for the first week and then we’d host my daughter and son-in-law aboard for the second week. The Weltevreden was in tip-top shape having just returned from a scheduled haul-out maintenance in Belize City. We reacquainted ourselves with our base friends there, provisioned up, took a briefing with Renee and shoved off to start making our way Northward. We had a late start so we meandered over and caught a mooring off Whipray Caye for the night. Whipray is a very welcoming and friendly spot that is the home of the well known saltwater fly fishing guide Julian Cabral and his wife Beverly, who is active in Village of Placencia development and tourism efforts. We know this caye and its mangrove stands well from a prior experience the year before that had something to do with a dislodged dingy outboard kill switch clip and a mad paddle to snag the last root of the last mangrove before being blown out to open water. But, that’s another story.

Whipray Caye

This day was one of those "well, the Meteorological Service got it wrong" days. The forecast was calling for a mini-Armageddon. However, it in fact was a near perfect sailing day that produced a nearly cloudless and breezy night. The star fields viewed from the deck of one’s secured boat off a fine caye and away from the stray light pollution of civilization defies description. Stephen Stills once wrote – "When you see the Southern Cross for the first time, you understand now why you came this way." He could not have been more right. Even though Belize is in the Northern hemisphere, there it was, low in the horizon, complete with its two distinct pointer stars, Alpha & Beta Centauri, directing you to the Southern Cross - the Crux. I’ve always wondered how the ancients decided to connect their star patterns in such a way to create familiar objects in the sky like a horse or an archer. I always thought that I could do that too and come away with a portrait of Elvis instead. But the Southern Cross is not that way. There’s no confusing it with anything else. Most impressive.

The Southern Cross as seen from Belize in June (image taken & modified by author)

A fine meal prepared onboard, a shared bottle of wine (expensive stuff down there) while being watched over by the Cross made for one satisfying evening. A surreal Portuguese Man of War with an almost fluorescent purple air bladder came bobbing by Weltevreden and I thought this a nice topper for the day as I had never seen one of those creatures before. They’re fun to watch - from a distance. The Brown Pelicans were making their dive bombing fishing sorties near the caye shore and, it felt so good to be back on our boat again. All in all it was an excellent start to our stay.

The 9 am weather call informed us that there could be trouble up North. But hey, we’re experts now – just ignore it and set sail. This day too was a pleasant passage to the entrance of the Blue Ground Range where we dropped sails and motored a fairly indirect route through the shallows required for monohulls to reach South Water Caye located just inside the barrier reef. The plan was to proceed from there the following morning to Thatch Caye and then points northward until it would come time to turn around and shoot down the Inner Channel to retrieve Holly and Chris at Placencia.

South Water Caye has friendly folks to greet you ashore, there’s snorkeling along the reef, and, if you wish, perhaps dinner at one of two small resorts in residence there. And just a short distance from South Water is Carrie Bow Caye - an active reef research facility sponsored by The Smithsonian. This was our third visit here as South Water has become one of our favorite stops from our experience of prior trips.

South Water Caye - Blue Ground Range

As with the day before, the afternoon and evening off South Water was most pleasant. Clouds were building and wind was starting to pick up, but there was nothing to be alarmed about. However, by sundown the conditions continued to deteriorate with the approach from the east of dark walls of disturbance that were backlit by frequent lightning flashes. The first storm swept across us at 8:30. It was intense rain, lightning and wind, but brief, and we opened up the boat after it passed to take advantage of the cooler winds. Another storm barreled in at about 11:00. The same drill – button up, ride it out, then open up again.

When 2:30 am rolled around the third blast arrived. Roberta was forward closing hatches and I was in the cabin doing the same. I saw a lightning flash and I began to count – one thousand one, one thousand two …. until I reach the count of six where I heard the thunder. I had no sooner finished thinking the thought that six miles away wasn’t so bad when – WHAM – all hell broke loose. Along with electricals departing the scene in a small fireworks display, cabin sole boards popped up from their positions, cabinet doors blew open, cabin lights were ejected from their fixtures and switches on the electrical panel in the nav station area were fused in place. Even though I have never been this close to a lightning strike, it was pretty clear what had just happened. I yelled out to Roberta and asked if she was ok. No answer. I called again …. then again - with the same result. The frightening part about all this was the few moments where my racing mind was considering that she was injured or worse. It seemed a long time before we finally saw each other but I’m sure it was just a few seconds. What I didn’t know was that Roberta was beginning to fear a bad fate about me as she was calling for me and receiving no response. The compression of the strike was such that we couldn’t hear each other even though we were no more than 10 feet apart. The emotional intensity of those few moments is my most vivid memory. But, she stepped into my view and we took a few moments to satisfy ourselves that we were ok. I was so proud of Roberta that night as she could have understandably reacted with something like – ‘Get me off this stinking boat - and I MEAN RIGHT - &%#@* - NOW!!!! Instead, we made a few comments about what just occurred, expressed some gratitude to each other for our mutual safety and then quickly turned to the tasks at hand.

Were we on fire? Were we taking on water? We set about making those determinations quickly. Both answers were negative. We were not burning down to the waterline nor sinking. A quick survey of the boat systems reveled that we didn’t have any - save the solitary flickering cabin light. The storm was still raging but I went above to see if we lost the diesel as well. But, much to my very happy surprise the beauty started. So even though all cockpit gauges and instruments were shot, the important components of starting battery and engine electricals were somehow isolated from the rest of the boat’s systems and we now had a chance to get her back to base under our own power. I shut the engine off, went below to flip off the battery switches and we then rode out the rest of the night until first light. I carried a GPS with a Caribbean BlueChart card installed and I had saved the track in from the previous day. We could follow that same track for the way out to the channel.

We left South Water Caye at first light even though the time was nowhere near 9 o’clock. I was hoping that there would be enough life left in the engine to get us to the channel as sailing out of South Water through the shallows, reefs and coral heads would not be easy. Besides, the winds were light. Once we were in the clear the diesel was still operating properly so we continued to motor South. On the way back we were picking up off the deck the burned and broken bits and pieces of gear that had once been at the top of the mast. The only thing left up there now was the carbonized carcass of the lightning arrestor.

When we finally had cell phone reception I called the base and talked the situation over with Renee. She advised us on a few things and had the crew ready to receive us once we rounded Placencia Caye. It was like we were running home to mother – which in fact we were. The crew took over and transferred us to another 41.3 and after a rest we headed back out again.

The Moorings brought a marine electrical specialist down from Belize City and for the next two days he and several of the staff went through all the systems on the boat and developed a plan to set her right again. One curious thing among several curious things that resulted from the strike was that the starboard compass was knocked off 50 degrees to the E in its reading while the port compass was just fine. The base crew members were wonderful to us - seeing to our needs and attending to our crippled craft. She would be set right again in about a month.

We ran into some more rugged weather the remainder of the first week. However, week two with our family aboard was perfect in every aspect – no storms of any kind, good wind, warm sunny days, brilliant starlit nights, frequent visits from the dolphins and rays and all with great companionship onboard. The trip was just another one of life’s little adventures.

I once thought that sailing was about adventure and working with the elements while testing how intrepid one might be. I have now come to believe that sailing is about making conservative, safe decisions using the available information at the time while carrying an attitude that I have nothing to prove to myself or anyone else. In doing so, the adventure finds you anyway just as sure as the lightning came down our mast after us that night as we were minding our own business, while safely tucked away in a good anchorage, at a beautiful and exotic place. Someday there will be no running to a base that is obligated to take care of our problems for us when trouble like this comes. We will need to be ready to deal with all manner of difficulty if we do choose to take the Weltevreden out there." And conservative and safe decisions or not, adventure and difficulties will find us. Of this I am resting assured.

So why do it? "When you see the Southern Cross for the first time you understand now why you came this way." And, the world is full of Southern Crosses. We are just beginning our own particular tack on this oft-traveled cruising heading and I can think of no better way to find and experience some of those places then from the deck of Weltevreden II with my first mate beside me.