ONE THING LEADS TO ANOTHER

the calmer inner harbor, indicated for us to drop our anchor, and with a tip of the hat (turban) they bade us farewell.

Onthe 11th, with the leak fixed, we took off like a shot. The law of the sea applies to all sailors. Allahu Akbar. Rested and with dry feet, we raced along nicely. With the southerly wind, the self-steering worked to perfection. Traffic was heavy but easy to avoid. The phosphorescence at night was very bright and left three parallel trails following our sterns. Islands could readily be spotted in the distance by the glow produced when waves hit the beach, thus easily avoided. In five days we passed the latitude of Port Sudan and we were pleased with our progress. We had decided that with all the potential trouble on either side of the Sea, we would continue on until we could not take it. There are no yacht-friendly ports on either coast, islands and reefs are the greatest danger, and we feared trouble from local "fishermen." The best choice was to stay in the middle and dodge large, well-lighted ships.

We sailed north with the helpful south wind, making excellent progress. About halfway to Suez, things changed. In less than half a day, the wind swung to the north. This happened just about where the pilot book predicted. From then on it was going to be tough. When sailing against the wind, our boat reacted most favorably to the proper amount of sail aloft. As the wind increased, we reduced sail; as the wind decreased, we added sail.

able to identify some buildings on the Yemen coast, the town of Mokha. We found an adequate anchorage in the outer harbor and dropped our anchor in 20 feet with a sand bottom. Repairs were immediately undertaken. We hoped to slip in and out without notice. To our chagrin, we were approached by a 35-ft motor dhow, manned by the toughest group of sailors we had ever encountered. They wore turbans, suit coats, lava lavas tucked into their waists due to the strong wind, and daggers stuck into their belts. Very scary guys, they motioned to us to haul our anchor and pass them a line. They would brook no dissent. It looked like our trip would be cut short. Margo and I expected the worst. With stern and unreadable faces, they towed No Name into

That is the basics of reefing. The correct amount of sail is paramount if a seamanlike passage is to be achieved. With the wind north, we had to tack back and forth across the shipping lanes and turn again before running into the coast. Back and forth, changing sails frequently to match the wind speed. We had to work for our miles, but each tack took us closer to our destination. Sticking close to the Saudi coast gave a small assist from a slight north-setting current.

We were actually doing very well, making 60-70 and even 100 miles a day to the north if our sights were to be trusted. We vowed to sail until we couldn't take it. I think the stories of the difficulty other boats had in the Red Sea ports put fear in our souls. On an eastward tack in moderate weather, we hit a reef with our centerboard. Out of sight of land, we decided to cut our tacks shorter. Just off the coast, we experienced a waterspout 6 feet in diameter, reaching a mile into the sky. The old sailing remedy for waterspouts is to fire a blunderbuss into the spout. Our blunderbuss was not in working order, but after a few minutes, the spout subsided.

Wewere running out of the Red Sea and entering the Gulf of Suez, through the Strait of Gubal. This was a dangerous area in which to sail, with a very narrow gulf between the Sinai Peninsula and Egypt. It was full of oil wells, drilling rigs and gas flares, with a shipping lane down the middle. Winds remained light, allowing for easy progress as we continued to tack among the obstacles. Waves were small, and all was going smoothly until Christmas Eve. It was very dark, even misty, and the weather conditions were cold, but the wind was favorable. We kept hearing something behind us that almost sounded like a motor. Even when making frequent short tacks, the sound followed us.

Out came the trusty three-cell flashlight, the only electric device aboard. Pointing it in the direction of the sound and blinking, we were blinded by a very intense spotlight. The boat with the super-bright spotlight motored around us, all the while blinding us. Who was it? Pirates, navy, police? Was that a deck-mounted machine gun pointing at us? After a couple of passes, they turned off the spot and dropped back, following us in silence for 15 minutes. They returned and inquired as to who we were and where we were coming from. Djibouti? You have no lights? Yes. You have no registration? Correct. What is the name of your vessel? No Name What is your port of call? San Francisco. With these answers, they turned off the spot, dropped back and thought about it. On went their deck lights, over the side went the fenders, and in a calm sea they came alongside.

They asked if we needed anything. Food? Water? We had been stopped by a genuine Israeli patrol boat. Their task was to watch the coast of the Sinai, which had been in the control of Israel since the '73 war. They relayed to us that immediately on seeing us we were recognized as not being Egyptian troops and not a threat. After chatting us up for a while, they gave us some bread, water, fruit and vegetables, and wished us a Merry Christmas and disappeared into the night. We were later to meet some of the crew in the harbor in Tel Aviv.

Continuing north with light wind, we were entering a field of dozens of oil rigs. The area was bathed in orange and yellow light given off by the large natural gas flares. A flare was a steel tube, rising 60 feet from the ocean surface, used to collect and burn off the natural gas that is vented from the oil wells. The flame from these pipes would shoot 70 feet into the sky with a loud roar, deafening when close. We were tacking through the oil field, which at least was well lit. We then hit the strongest wind yet encountered. The flickering light gave a surreal aura that actually highlighted the beauty of Margo. The updraft created by the heat from flares altered the wind direction when we got close; however, the strong wind allowed us to avoid any problems. The warmth from the flame was welcome and, for a short while, we were warm.

Christmas was celebrated with a fresh salad dinner, fresh fruit and the best present; the end of the Red Sea. On the 26th, we broke a shroud, making it necessary to go aloft and replace it. Dropping all sails and setting the sea anchor, we tied a bosun's chair to the halyard, and Margo hoisted me aloft. In 4-foot waves, the mast scribed large arcs in the sky while I was 30 feet off the water. I took a beating, but we got it done and continued on our way.

The fairway in the Gulf of Suez is only 10 miles wide, and at any one time, you can see both sides of the Gulf. The ship traffic was constant as we tacked across the shipping lanes. We established watches and learned to judge