Sandra had just briefed me on the condition of our sail as I commenced the 11 pm to 3 am watch on a Friday night.  Not much to report currently, except for one radar target about 12 miles out.  Before that she had seen several sport fishers out for the weekend, a few cargo ships passing up and down the coast, and an occasional unknown vessel well out of eye shot.  Pretty busy as most sea watches go.  During the evening the wind had steadily dropped and so did the sails in sequential order, except for mizzen which was left out to help stabilize Galini in the following swell.  I had been napping before my watch and had come up on deck for several of those sail changes, even though I wasn’t needed. Sandra is an able sailor. As l still getting acquainted with Galini, I had yet to acquire the confidence her personality.

I settled  into my watch. Waxing Gibbous quarter moon off the starboard bow cast a beautiful light trail across the still sea.  The breeze was light and we were motor sailing, trying to get to Isla Beata in the western Dominican sea during the morrow’s daylight.  Just a few scattered clouds amongst the vast stary night that I never tire of.  Billions of stars, literally.  Lights from the southern Dominican coast beckoned in small concentrations along the starboard horizon.  I wondered about the people who live there. I feel a sense of grace in the space, solitude on watch.  No one knows we are here. 

I scan the horizon for boats, obstacles of any kind.  Radar indicates that the ship Sandra spotted is closing, now 9 miles out.  I see her.  Just a lone white light visible and I take a bearing off of fixed point on Galini. The stanchion immediately behind the cockpit suffices.

I drop down to make a cup of coffee.  Back on deck, the moon is closing on the horizon, a few clouds part the surface.  The radar check shows the target ship to be at 7.5 nm out now.  The bearing has not changed, she is headed for us.  I flip on the AIS, Galini has a unit that will only transmit, but at least the ship should be able to see us. 

The coffee aroma is appealing, like the freshness of awakening my palate. I put the coffee down, check the rigging.  I can see two white lights from the ship now, one lower on the horizon in front of the taller one.  Radar shows her to be 5 miles out.  The bearing has not changed.  I dodge below and grab the handheld VHF.  I give a call out for any large vessel 23 nm SE of Punta Palenque on the radio and identify us as a sailing vessel in her path.  No response.  I wait three minutes and try again.  No response.  Now the ship is a little over 3 miles out and I see her port light in addition to the two white lights.  Bearing has not changed. 

Another mouthful of coffee.  I marvel at these new insulated air stainless cups I bought to keep aboard Galini.  I discovered them on our recent Christmas charter in the BVI that my daughters, Kristina and Natalie and I took along with my ex-wife Dora and Natalie’s boyfriend Kevin. The cups come from a Chinese company, with both a handful and a larger size.  The color schemes vary but they retain the warmth of the beverage for six or so hours and the cold for even longer.  Important factors for a sailboat. More than the thermal properties, if you use the supplied plastic seal lid, the cups retain the freshness of the beverage.  The coffee keeps the aroma and flavor; the sparkling water keeps the ice solid and the soda fizzing for a long time.   Absent is the stale cold coffee taste, or the melted ice diffused taste.  Everyone who has used them love them.  I was using a tall one this evening, perfect for a four hour dog watch on a fresh dark night.

I look at the ship.  Now I see both white lights almost aligned and both the port and starboard equally spaced adjacent to the while lights.  I check the bearing, hasn’t changed.  We are on collision chaourse.

Glancing at the radar, the ship is a little less than two miles out.  One more radio hail.  No response.  No choice now.  I turn to starboard 90 degrees and gun the engine to 2000 rpm.  Galini responds with 9 knts of speed and we take an orthogonal tack to the ship.  Her lights are getting closer, less than 1 mile out and the size of the ship is apparent now.  In the dark, I can just make out a container vessel.  I start to wonder for a few long seconds if  my maneuver  would not be enough.  The ship still looks poised to hit us. I contemplate increasing the engine to the max, but then realize that the ships port light is receding and the starboard light is growing.  She is going to pass to our stern, but not my much.

Sandra comes back up on deck, awakened by the sound of engine change.  “Anything happening?” she asks.  “Oh yeah”, I reply, “that ship you spotted turned out to be headed right for us.  I had to alter to an orthogonal course and speed up to avoid her”.  We both watch as she passes a mere ¼ mile behind. We can just hear her engines above the sound of our own.  We can see the containers stacked 6 or 7 high, bow to stern.  Clearly the ship was on her own mission and our little Galini was not a concern.