Go with me on this. Any resemblance between this story and real facts are purely incidental. It has been a great day at sea. We left Miami early morning aboard a wonderfully equipped boat and are looking forward to sun downers and a good nights sleep. We pull into a very nice, albeit small anchorage. Locals are on shore with runabouts pulled on the beach. Everyone is frolicking in the gentle surf. It is late afternoon and we decide to don mask and fins and check the anchor only eight feet below in crystal clear water. A bright red star fish is near the anchor so it is easy to spot. We have more than enough rode (chain) out to assure a good "set" yet it appears the "hook" is only partially buried it he coral sand. Without getting the scuba gear out, we are limited in the effort to dig a hole for it to the thirty seconds or more that we can hold our breath. Being lazy, we decide to forgo the tanks and live with the anchor as it sets. Soon, the sun is below the yard and we are, as they say, splicing the main brace with guests. The locals leave the anchorage and we have it to ourselves. Darn lucky we think. What a place. The burgers were outstanding and the evening continues until someone yawns. Then the contagious nature of that event takes the entire crew into those last glimpses of the dark shore line and that last sip in the glass. Slowly, the crew head for horizontal surfaces thankful for the day and the safe passage. We are confident of waking up where we started before dark. There is no sitting in the dark below listening to the sea or the boat. We are tired. Sleep comes fast and deep. How sweet it is.
It seems like only a few minutes when an unusual movement to the boat wakes the crew. This movement is not just a roll or a pitch, it also includes a lunge of the type that says we are "making way". But wait, we have an anchor down, or do we? This is when, like the kicking of the squad bay trash can at 0300 by the drill sergeant, one can go from deep sleep to vertical sprint in less than a heartbeat. Mind yer noggin you say as you head for the companionway at mach .000000001 to see "what the heck". There is a driving rain pelting the deck. Once topside, it is pitch black. So much for the plan. Looking at the gps, you notice that we have a straight track drifting to the only boat busting bolder in the entire anchorage. But before we hit that rock, we will encounter a lovely million dollar yacht that is not moving, that is except the owner with the Q beam attempting to burn our retinas out of existence. Now, how the hell am I going to see anything except for that white ball of light permanently etched in my vision? Oh yes, that light also comes with some faint suggestion of my having questionable parentage. Not to worry, we have a second anchor which, if deployed in the next 15 seconds will save the day. Why the heck did I use all that line to secure it to the rail? Ah, but we have a knife. Quick work and the line is gone, the anchor is attached to the rode and overboard. Let's see if it sets in time for us to stop before we sink the Queen Mary. Just then it sets and the boat stops on a dime. Both chain and rode are piano wire tight and holding. The dude with the hand held sun mutters something about our IQ and goes below. He cannot help it, he is French.
Having narrowly averted an international incident at sea, one notices it is 0300. For now the boat is stable and the rain has stopped. Wait, it is darn cold and not only am I wet but also sitting in the cockpit in my underwear. No wonder the fellow turned off the light. Too wired for the moment, the best thing to do is to grab a towel and sit there for a bit. It is too early to have adult beverages and not late enough to make coffee. After all, it is 0303. Staring toward the east, the next three hours pass slowly as one contemplates that darn anchor. The Admiral comes topside at around 0900 with that "what a restful night it was" look on her face. Gee honey, when did you get up? Why are you sitting there in wet underwear? What are we gonna do today?
Log entry: Stardate 111111, Caribbean Sea- note to self- discard that dufus anchor and get something that will hold.
Enter Rocna, a well known anchor with supposedly great holding. It comes with a warning that when retrieved, it comes up with really foul bottom stuff stuck to it. There are trade offs and a bucket brigade is needed to keep that stuff out of the anchor locker, but hey, one may be able to sleep------that is except for concern over the boat upwind some dark and stormy night. Where do we keep out Q beam?
Friday, October 22, 2010
Countdown and other stuff
Give or take it is about 35 days until we climb back aboard WK. Bear and I are both recovering well and Bear is getting some formal exercise to get those mussels back into cruising shape. We have been off the boat for 21 days and contrary to what I thought, we have been busy and really making the most of our time ashore. We have procured charts and other items that would have been much harder without having a stable address and a car. As it turned out, we needed to do much more to the house than we did to make it ready for absence although the scorpions were sort of a burglar deterrent. That tree spider that had such a nice web over our dining room table was yet another indication that our bug zone wasn't.
As mentioned, we have acquired most if not all the charts and guides we need, or think we need. As to the fishing thing, the Bahamian guide offered a simple truth: big lures equals big fish, and little lures equals little fish. Obviously, it did not consider the curse Neptune put on us when we murdered the tarpon accidentally.
We have a few spare parts to acquire and some things left for the house and the list grows daily. Funny how the list never ends. What part will fail when least expected is a simple question. The answer is also simple. It will fail when the replacement is least available. So, it is back to the guessing game. We have decided to leave the 150 headsail in the barn and continue with the 110. We have a spinnaker aboard for those light days. If we add the big headsail, no one, but no one can possibly get into the aft cabin.
Things we have resolved:
Provision at the last possible moment with foods having the longest "best used by" date. That means not taking advantage of those great HEB sales here in New Braunfels. You know they ones: "priced for quick sale". We will leave the house with very few provisions save that freezer in the dungeon that has a permafrost layer below which we have no clue what foods exist. We will make this place toxic to man, beast and bug when we leave and the burglar alarm will be operational. And the list goes on.
The launch clock is ticking. Bear and I are looking forward to getting underway.
As mentioned, we have acquired most if not all the charts and guides we need, or think we need. As to the fishing thing, the Bahamian guide offered a simple truth: big lures equals big fish, and little lures equals little fish. Obviously, it did not consider the curse Neptune put on us when we murdered the tarpon accidentally.
We have a few spare parts to acquire and some things left for the house and the list grows daily. Funny how the list never ends. What part will fail when least expected is a simple question. The answer is also simple. It will fail when the replacement is least available. So, it is back to the guessing game. We have decided to leave the 150 headsail in the barn and continue with the 110. We have a spinnaker aboard for those light days. If we add the big headsail, no one, but no one can possibly get into the aft cabin.
Things we have resolved:
Provision at the last possible moment with foods having the longest "best used by" date. That means not taking advantage of those great HEB sales here in New Braunfels. You know they ones: "priced for quick sale". We will leave the house with very few provisions save that freezer in the dungeon that has a permafrost layer below which we have no clue what foods exist. We will make this place toxic to man, beast and bug when we leave and the burglar alarm will be operational. And the list goes on.
The launch clock is ticking. Bear and I are looking forward to getting underway.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Coffee in the Fog
Whilst sitting on the deck at home early this morning, the fog is so thick that one can barely see the ground. Fog on land and that on the sea allows one to dream with eyes open. I do not hear fog horns or sea buoy bells but maybe I can conjure up that sound if I have enough coffee. Our deck is twenty or so feet from the ground thus it is possible to lose sight of the trees close by and put the dream machine in motion and envision the same fog surrounding Why Knot at some anchorage. Oops, back to reality, a police sirene just sounded in the distance.
We just received a box of charts and cruising guides for the Bahamas. Haven't given much thought to visiting there when we were aboard as it was to be at least three months before actually heading that way. By the time we get back, two of those will be gone. Spreading the chart out on kitchen table, one can now get some idea of those places friends and fellow cruisers have mentioned as "not to be missed". Just as we were dreaming of taking the eastern turn at Galveston, the southern turn at Pensacola, the northern turn at Key West, we were not thinking of the southern turn to mid Florida then the eastern turn to the Bahamas from Charleston just yet. While we did not make the Chesapeake this time, we will soon be joining those who did at some port waiting for the window to cross the green monster. Those on trawlers and motor yachts without stabilizers usually have a harder time getting the crew, usually the Admiral and her pet, to sign on for a crossing in marginal weather due to rolling decks. We have some gear to reduce roll such as mainsail and keel thus may be able to make it in more marginal weather. We have crossed the "Stream" twice on Safari. Both times, it was no big deal since the winds and seas were down. Then again, that was July. January may be different.
The visit home has been good. We are slowly preparing the house for an extended absence. We attended a '60 high school class reunion this past weekend in a place polar opposite from the sea, Merkel, Texas. It was way good to see old classmates and some we have not seen for over 50 years. It was an elderly crowd standing around trying to remember names. We also visited with the crew of Liberty Call, now land based in Fredericksburg, Tx. Now, it is back to prepping for the return to WK and getting back underway on the dream.
We just received a box of charts and cruising guides for the Bahamas. Haven't given much thought to visiting there when we were aboard as it was to be at least three months before actually heading that way. By the time we get back, two of those will be gone. Spreading the chart out on kitchen table, one can now get some idea of those places friends and fellow cruisers have mentioned as "not to be missed". Just as we were dreaming of taking the eastern turn at Galveston, the southern turn at Pensacola, the northern turn at Key West, we were not thinking of the southern turn to mid Florida then the eastern turn to the Bahamas from Charleston just yet. While we did not make the Chesapeake this time, we will soon be joining those who did at some port waiting for the window to cross the green monster. Those on trawlers and motor yachts without stabilizers usually have a harder time getting the crew, usually the Admiral and her pet, to sign on for a crossing in marginal weather due to rolling decks. We have some gear to reduce roll such as mainsail and keel thus may be able to make it in more marginal weather. We have crossed the "Stream" twice on Safari. Both times, it was no big deal since the winds and seas were down. Then again, that was July. January may be different.
The visit home has been good. We are slowly preparing the house for an extended absence. We attended a '60 high school class reunion this past weekend in a place polar opposite from the sea, Merkel, Texas. It was way good to see old classmates and some we have not seen for over 50 years. It was an elderly crowd standing around trying to remember names. We also visited with the crew of Liberty Call, now land based in Fredericksburg, Tx. Now, it is back to prepping for the return to WK and getting back underway on the dream.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Refit
As mentioned, we are here in the Hill Country until after Thanksgiving and this allows us to make some revisions to that which we feel we need aboard. We brought much gear home but we are not sure we can fit some stuff in the little rental car we have going back. For instance, a fishing rod. Yup, we have cruised now for over nine months and have yet to wet a line. We have an old rod and reel my Dad gave me 50 years ago and yet we still find it easier to just order the fisherman's platter when on land and do without on the boat. That is until now. Having spent several decades meandering along the shore and sailing the Gulf waters, we have fished little. Part of that is due to the fact that as a kid, my parents chose to feed me fish every day practically. It took almost 20 years after the fact before I would eat seafood again.
Bear and I are starting to gather up the guides and charts for the part of the cruise to the Bahamas and they mention that fish is way more plentiful than any other type of critter, other than perhaps bugs. So, I guess we will get back into murdering sea creatures if Neptune will grant me a reprieve from the curse placed on us when we accidentally caught a Tarpon just off the jetties at Port A. Said Tarpon had no chance since we caught him (or her) on a 80 pound test line tied to a cleat on the boat. Since then, it has been futile to fish. Gee, I wonder what we need to do to get the curse lifted. Dang sure hate to waste that really cool bottle of rum but it may be necessary. (Non sailors take note that Neptune takes kindly to offerings of good rum simply poured over the side with great reverence and humility). Still debating that one aboard WK.
More spare parts, water filters and other stuff necessary to be somewhat self-sufficient in remote areas are being procured during this shore leave. Stuff like spare fuel injectors are expensive but may well save a great deal of expense. Duties, freight and actual cost of such stuff in the islands is almost prohibitive. Some crews limp back to the states to avoid these things. Can you imagine the cost of 500 pounds of batteries shipped to some remote island? Little things like medicines must be acquired for the length of the cruise. Try getting your saw bones to write a scrip for a years worth of certain of drugs. It is like this doc, we need to forget the time limits and fill six increments of this controlled substance all at once. Yeah, right!
To those who plan to be away from medical assistance for a bit, we have run across a really great bandage. It is waterproof and does not stick. Google 3M Tegaderm + Pad. Otherwise, as mentioned in an earlier blog, in a pinch, duct tape will do the same trick. The difference other than cost is that with the former, you keep yer fur. With the latter, ye lose it. Later!
Bear and I are starting to gather up the guides and charts for the part of the cruise to the Bahamas and they mention that fish is way more plentiful than any other type of critter, other than perhaps bugs. So, I guess we will get back into murdering sea creatures if Neptune will grant me a reprieve from the curse placed on us when we accidentally caught a Tarpon just off the jetties at Port A. Said Tarpon had no chance since we caught him (or her) on a 80 pound test line tied to a cleat on the boat. Since then, it has been futile to fish. Gee, I wonder what we need to do to get the curse lifted. Dang sure hate to waste that really cool bottle of rum but it may be necessary. (Non sailors take note that Neptune takes kindly to offerings of good rum simply poured over the side with great reverence and humility). Still debating that one aboard WK.
More spare parts, water filters and other stuff necessary to be somewhat self-sufficient in remote areas are being procured during this shore leave. Stuff like spare fuel injectors are expensive but may well save a great deal of expense. Duties, freight and actual cost of such stuff in the islands is almost prohibitive. Some crews limp back to the states to avoid these things. Can you imagine the cost of 500 pounds of batteries shipped to some remote island? Little things like medicines must be acquired for the length of the cruise. Try getting your saw bones to write a scrip for a years worth of certain of drugs. It is like this doc, we need to forget the time limits and fill six increments of this controlled substance all at once. Yeah, right!
To those who plan to be away from medical assistance for a bit, we have run across a really great bandage. It is waterproof and does not stick. Google 3M Tegaderm + Pad. Otherwise, as mentioned in an earlier blog, in a pinch, duct tape will do the same trick. The difference other than cost is that with the former, you keep yer fur. With the latter, ye lose it. Later!
Friday, October 8, 2010
Preview
When Bear and I began our little adventure we knew we would be making memories for use later in life, perhaps for those times when we are destined to make our last port in life's voyage. We did not expect those memories to be particularly spectacular, nor of interest to anyone other than ourselves. After just nine months, we have a cache of memories that is certainly a good start. There are those that cause nightmares and those that would embarrass most folks. We have some that could be the stuff of travel magazines and some that could be discarded were it not for the fact that they are chiseled into our hard drive. Altogether they make up a pretty good start on the stuff that we might remember when we grow up.
Our "Ships Log" is mostly about geography and mechanics but this blog is about perceptions and ports, about impressions of people along the way and about mistakes and the old learning curve. It is about how one can find pleasure living in a space smaller than our bedroom back home. It is about the dance we do as we pass each other in tight places aboard and how we learned to do that without stepping on toes and dropping stuff. It is about sleeping head to toe in a berth smaller than a single bed and how to dodge a kick in the face while fully unconscious asleep-- or not. It is about that darn hatch handle that has always been there yet is forgotten until it buries that little button on top of a cap in the top of my head. In my case, it is about learning patience and overcomming my ADHD, which I think I have done. It is about wondering where the other boat is headed and where they have been and the wonder of how folks that old are still doing it. I am sure others think of us that way since we see very few youngsters "out there". This is like a visit to a wildlife park that is infinitely long and only accessible by boat.
We have done a fair amount of land exploration and are constantly amazed at the demarcation between normal land life and the other dimension: the water world. Those who fish, ski or go to the beach are usually home after dark and they really miss one of the true rewards. Like staying "at the coast" on Sunday, one sees the visitors disappear. One is treated to something the locals have long forgotten and those who went home to "get ready for work on Monday" will not enjoy. It is having the water world to yourself. For the moment it is yours and all that it holds is displayed just for you. Along the way, we have anchored in places where we did not encounter another human for hours. It is a pleasure to listen to nature without motors. It has been so completely enjoyable that we have yet to listen to the books on tape or the music we brought aboard for more than a few minutes total. The sound of silence is truly golden.
Now that we are in the Hill Country for a few weeks, I catch myself previewing those memories, sort of trying them on for size to see if they will work when we can no longer go to sea. Methinks we are doing just fine filling the memory box. Hopefully, the box will continue to grow now that our visits to the spine guys are done. Heck, I was aboard last night for a couple of hours. I would bet Bear was too.
 |
| Looking ahead along the way |
Our "Ships Log" is mostly about geography and mechanics but this blog is about perceptions and ports, about impressions of people along the way and about mistakes and the old learning curve. It is about how one can find pleasure living in a space smaller than our bedroom back home. It is about the dance we do as we pass each other in tight places aboard and how we learned to do that without stepping on toes and dropping stuff. It is about sleeping head to toe in a berth smaller than a single bed and how to dodge a kick in the face while fully unconscious asleep-- or not. It is about that darn hatch handle that has always been there yet is forgotten until it buries that little button on top of a cap in the top of my head. In my case, it is about learning patience and overcomming my ADHD, which I think I have done. It is about wondering where the other boat is headed and where they have been and the wonder of how folks that old are still doing it. I am sure others think of us that way since we see very few youngsters "out there". This is like a visit to a wildlife park that is infinitely long and only accessible by boat.
We have done a fair amount of land exploration and are constantly amazed at the demarcation between normal land life and the other dimension: the water world. Those who fish, ski or go to the beach are usually home after dark and they really miss one of the true rewards. Like staying "at the coast" on Sunday, one sees the visitors disappear. One is treated to something the locals have long forgotten and those who went home to "get ready for work on Monday" will not enjoy. It is having the water world to yourself. For the moment it is yours and all that it holds is displayed just for you. Along the way, we have anchored in places where we did not encounter another human for hours. It is a pleasure to listen to nature without motors. It has been so completely enjoyable that we have yet to listen to the books on tape or the music we brought aboard for more than a few minutes total. The sound of silence is truly golden.
Now that we are in the Hill Country for a few weeks, I catch myself previewing those memories, sort of trying them on for size to see if they will work when we can no longer go to sea. Methinks we are doing just fine filling the memory box. Hopefully, the box will continue to grow now that our visits to the spine guys are done. Heck, I was aboard last night for a couple of hours. I would bet Bear was too.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Stuff
This visit has one really cool aspect other than for our Texas soul. I am having the pleasure of discarding company files and recovering a room that was once the galactic nerve center of CST Sales. Unlike walking away from a real job with the old gold watch and a really cool cake, this is a celebration only I can enjoy. There is no successor to help me take my stuff to the car and wish me well. Now if I can only get all those trade magazines to unsubscribe me. Don't they know it is difficult to download their junk at some remote anchorage?
Taken a "while" back
Now I must admit to those who have not lived a cruising life that life aboard can be way more work. It is not all beautiful sundowns with a perky glass of rotten grapes and a life mate to enjoy it. Those who have stopped by this blog from time to time have read about broken heads (toilets), broken masts, lost stuff and cold watches at the helm. Life on land has some really obvious advantages but it cannot, at least for now, match a quiet anchorage with bean dip and chicken pot pies. It cannot offer that moment when one raises the sails on a brisk wind and turns off the engine. At that very moment, the power of the wind and thousands of years of sailing vessels on the sea come to mind. At that moment one can the stark beauty of running before the wind. A few minutes beyond, and the moment gives way to the reality of perpetual movement, boat sounds and sometimes the entertainment of watching those guests never exposed realize freedom. "Where would you like to go today?"
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Back in Texas, The Republic Of.
We made it back to the house on Saturday and found things in surprisingly good shape. While we did not plan this visit, it will allow us to take care of things such as stowing stuff in the barn which we did not need aboard. We will replace some of that stuff with other stuff we deem necessary aboard, but may find later that was wrong. That stuff may well wind up as barter on some Caribbean island.
I am closing my business. As mentioned before, I planned to keep it open but had an epiphany in mid Mobile Bay that it was not worth the effort. Accordingly, I have put CST Sales, Inc. to sleep permanently. It was very easy to kill off a company of 28 years with just two state forms. Wow, all that time, all those road miles and all those business cards, all those trade shows and all those nights away from Bear are now relegated to a few boxes and memories destined to be in a dumpster some day. Anyone need a brief case or catalog case? How about a hundred years supply of paper clips? Look out Mother Ocean, here we come.
This shore leave will be busy. We now know that a can of pineapple will explode in the pantry. Thank goodness the freezer did not stop. We also know mold will grow on a computer screen and the deer cannot eat all the vines that now cover several sidewalks. Who would ever guess that two inches of garbage in the dumpster actually can make crude in just six months? We plan to visit family and friends, perhaps attend a high school home coming, visit doctors, dentists and dermatologists and most importantly we plan to VOTE.
We are healing from the great Tampa adventure and we are already looking forward to climbing back aboard. Bear renewed her membership in Curves to accelerate the recovery. This shore leave is, in a way, the most important for getting underway.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Sweet Arms of Texas
Bear had a normal but painful reaction to her back fix, severe spasms. While we were in Tampa for my swivel fix, it became most painful. She received a shot that will take about two weeks to do its stuff. I am under orders to lift nothing heavier than a gallon of water for the next six weeks. The crew is due for extended shore leave. All things considered, we decided to jump ship for a bit and head back to Texas to recover. Without at least one of us in highly mobile condition, life aboard may not be the best approach to healing. That said, we will leave Why Knot today. We are driving since we have much stuff to take home and throw in the barn; stuff that we no longer need aboard.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)