At one a.m., we admitted defeat. We were going in circles, burning diesel and getting nowhere. It had taken us 20 hours to go 60 miles, and we were miles north of our course. At that rate, we'd have run out of diesel long before we reached Key West. If we could have ducked into Cuba for fuel and shelter, it would have been different, but that's risky business, so we turned around and headed back to Mujeres.
The morning was especially rugged. We had to go south against the current or be blown to the north side of the Yucatan Peninsula. This meant being perpendicular to the east wind, so the waves were clobbering us broadside. Several times, we were knocked over 60 degrees from the vertical. The decks were awash. We were afraid we'd capsize, but good old Jofian always righted herself. Sure glad there's all that lead on her bottom.
In the afternoon, the sea calmed down a little, relatively speaking, which helped tremendously, but it was still tough going. We couldn't go more than two or three knots. Mujeres seemed a long ways away.
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