On board of The Elli Di, Saint Martin, April 2021

Marigot

My understanding is that captain defines it all on the boat. Yachting sounds like a dangerous business. Lives of everyone on board depend on captain’s skills and personal qualities. Therefore, captain should be experienced, capable of making right decisions in tough situations, and well-organized. This was the minimum set that I expected from captain. A square jaw, beard and a pipe were optional.

Konstantin certainly knew his boat well. He had years of sailing although not much in the Atlantic. As for the skills in other departments, he had little to demonstrate.

Hesitation what to do and when was in Konstantin’s nature. His plans often changed, even our route was not fixed.

‘Let’s visit Saint Barthelemy,’ he would suggest and then not mention the island again.

‘Maybe, we go to Bermuda first and then to the Azores’, mused Konstantin. ‘By the way, whose territory is Bermuda?’

Sure, the boat is not a train and skipper can change the route at his will. I love spontaneity but within limits. We were at our last stop. Wasn’t it the time to know the route?

The tension between Dmitry and Anna grew, yet Konstantin turned a blind eye to their frequent bickering. A yacht is a small closed space. A bad relationship can turn life on board into hell if the issues are not addressed. Konstantin pretended not to notice them.

The concept of time was not familiar to Konstantin. He would say that all of us were going on shore now which everyone interpreted as we leave in a few minutes. The crew gathered in the cockpit waiting for their skipper to be ready too but Konstantin took out his cell phone and started an hour-long conversation that he only wrapped up after nudging from the crew. The call was nothing urgent. This was Konstantin’s relaxed way of doing things that did not sit well with Dmitry who hated being idle and irritated him but Konstantin was the boss.

It is unlikely that Konstantin was slow consciously because it meant more money for him. We paid his company for every day spent on board. He simply could not pull himself together and get going. Konstantin would start doing something like repairing a sail, then leave it half-done and sit down in the cockpit with a beer.

Communication in English was entrusted to Anna or me. Konstantin only spoke his native Russian. In 10 years of permanent residence in the Canary Islands, he did not even learn basic Spanish. When neither Anna nor I were around, the language barrier led to misunderstanding.

Little by little, my disappointment in our skipper built up. I could tolerate the inconveniences of the boat life like the screeching bulkhead, the damp cabin, limited fresh water, and boring food. My body began to adjust to constant rocking. I knew it would be a lot worse in the open ocean. I mentally was preparing myself for being miserable most of the time. Still, I’d endure all that for the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to sail across the ocean. These things were in my control. But there was nothing I could do about skipper.

The plan was to leave in one day or even on the following day. I could not imagine how it was possible. We lacked everything from basic provisions to toilet paper; there was not enough food on board even to cook dinner and we went ashore for meals. So, the crew sat down in the cockpit to put together a shopping list. The three of us who never crossed the Atlantic before tried to compile a list of all necessities based on the estimate of how long it would take.

We turned to skipper for his input. Konstantin said: ‘We ran out of rum.’  Then he thought a little and added: ‘No beer either…’

Konstantin was a nice company to sit down for a drink or two, to share a joke or to have a chat. He was not a person whom I could trust with my life. This post is written 2 months after the events in Saint Martin, and I know now that the catamaran reached Europe. Even so, judging from what I saw on Facebook, it feels like the decision to leave was right. It did not look like a pleasant journey although Konstantin as usual glossed over any issues in his posts. Having met him in person, I can now read between the lines. It was tough because the catamaran went ill-prepared. At the same time, I was relieved to hear that Konstantin and Dmitry made it both safe and sound.

Marigot