Ships that pass in the night

Jon wakes me three hours later for my watch.
"My time to shine", I joke and climb back into my Hellys (free advertisement plug here - if you can afford them or can manage to get them donated by generous friends as we did, Helly Hanson makes the worlds most dope foul-weather gear ever. They fit perfectly, are comfortable and most amazingly, still make your butt look cute. Please God, let them read my blog and sponser us!).
I come on deck at 11:30. The wind has dropped and the moon is out and it is a truly beautiful night. Jon heads below for some much needed sleep and I spot a large ship on the horizon. I set the radar and watch for awhile. It's traveling quickly and directly on our course. Since we are running, this presents a question. Do I tack and head off for awhile and let him pass? But I know if I tack, just when jon has gone below, he will get up to see whats going on. I look at the radar again. I need to make the call. Big Ship is closing on the four mile mark and at the speed he's moving compared to us, I can't wait too much longer. Much as I don't want to, for his sake, I have to call on Captain. " Hey, baby, before you tuck in...can you come have a look?".
Jon pokes his head out the hatch. He looks exhausted.
"I need you to have a look". Jon shakes off his brain fuzz and comes up.
Jon agrees with the plan to tack. We do. And guess what...
Big ship adjusts his heading just as we do. No wonder, it's the rum-line for Cabo- where it's most likely bound.
Crap. We can see by the amazing spectacle of lights that are getting closer and closer to us that this is a cruise ship. We have on our tiny running lights but we don't know if he knows we are out there. Jon is calm. There is still plenty of room for options.
I offer some advice.
" I read this blog, once, where this couple traveling to turtle bay had this exact same experience and they hailed the ship to see if they had them on their radar."
Jon doesn't answer, he's thinking.
" The ship answered so they were fine, but the ship never saw them."
Jon picks up the VHF.
"Big ship, big ship, big ship... This is SV. Pura Vida, come in. Over".
Nothing. We look at the radar. Blip. Blip. Blip. It's getting closer by the second.
We look at each other. Then the Radio crackles.
An Italian/Russian/Mexican voice( as we have not had much sleep, it's hard to tell) comes over the radio.
"Good evening, Pura Vida. Theese eesse (snap, crackle, pop) "Sea of Dreams", Princess Cruise Line, come in. Over."
"Good evening, sir. Do you have a visual on us? We are about 4 miles off your starboard bow."
" You are 4.2 miles. Do you need more vroom?"
Jon and I look at each other.
" No. That is just fine. Thank you, sir."
Then Jon asks for their heading and they are bound for Cabo but they see us fine with all their fancy radars, so we know we have nothing to worry.
Jon heads off to bed and I watch what looks like a giant Christmas tree pass us silently in the night. I think about all the hundreds of passengers sleeping in their bunks, certain that their skipper is keeping them safe from crashing into tiny boats full of small children and how they will all wake rested to fresh orange juice as they pull into port at Cabo.
I pull up the collar on my super-awesome Helly Hanson jacket. I'm In charge here. My watch. My ship. The winds are light and I know how to sail light winds. I raced a lot of dingys and small boats as a kid. Pura Vida can be a lot for me when it's blowing over 18. Theres a big difference between my 120 pounds and Jon when it comes to hauling in sheets or rasing sails but in lighter winds, it's just sailing. And I love to sail.
The wind has backed around and our sails are flogging, so I gently gybe us and head up a tiny bit, so we are running comfortably with the swell, I re-rig the preventer and trim our sails and tighten all the lines. Pura Vida is happy. She moves well on this course and the boat is quiet so I know my captain can get some sleep. I mark our speed, course and position in the log and settle into my watch.

We change watches every three hours, we hang out for a bit in between and update one another on the goings on. The kids come and go between us. They love the romance of being able to have these unusual hours with us. They take turns sleeping with us and joining us for watches. Especially loving the night-time routine, with it's element of danger. We all wear more gear. There is much donning of offshore life vests, and harnesses, always clipping in to jacklines or cleats when in the cockpit. There are headlamps, and night vision on the GPS and there is always a thermos of hot tea or cocoa. Best of all, there are hours and hours of having dad or mom all to yourself.

When the wind and swell pick up and things get intense, they yawn and say its "boring" and disappear below to crawl in with whoever is off watch.

And so it goes...

ready for night watch

tired after  dog watch