Jimmy Buffett Laments the Fouling of his Paradise

Well, it took a monumental natural disaster to get me off my ass and start posting again. And for this post I'm cancelling my moratorium on cussing. You might have noticed that the title of this blog is "Jimmy Buffett Laments the Fouling of his Paradise". Oh Thank YOU, JIMMY! Read further along on the Margaritaville site and you will see that Jimmy is actually lamenting that the opening of his new hotel in Pensacola might be delayed. In the words of the Great Man Himself, the fucking fucker is fucked! Jimmy, your songs used to be the anthems of my life. Then I watched you singing at that TYCO party in Greece ($250,000 is probably small change for you). Cancel your Vegas concert and get your ass down to Mobile and hold a free concert for those eleven men that lost their life on that rig, the rig workers that are now out of work, the shrimpers, the oystermen, the waiters, the hotel housekeepers, the guy with his guitar case open on Bourbon Street.

Start being the man you sing you are.

Until then I'm holding a personal moratorium on anything "Jimmy Buffett" I will no longer drink from a Tin Cup Chalice, I will never buy anything with the Margaritaville logo including the mixes and the mixer(Hello? Who were you marketing to? The people who are rich enough to buy this shit would never wear that logo and the people that do buy it are probably up to their eyeballs in debt. I've been there. You?). I will never again coax bar crowds to go search for lost shakers of salt, I will never again win every trivia question having to do with you at the Schooner Wharf Bar in Key West. Do you remember that place and that bar? I think you used to have a studio right behind there. I went through a hurricane with my sailboat tied to the docks there. You? Your books sent me off on an adventure. I've lit the fresnel lens at the Elbow Cay Lighthouse, I've seen G.E. doing its best while sitting at anchor at Cane Garden Bay, and I've skated for 14 hours during a Labor Day Jerry Lewis Marathon when I was 12 years old and "Come Monday" was on the charts.

I will not be buying " A Pirate Looks At 70" because I don't see you as the same guy that bought his Dad an Oyster Po'Boy at the Mobile docks.

My friend, your Grampa has his hand on the starboard rail and he is just shaking his head at you. He doesn't recognize you. Neither do I.
Ever so humbly, Mary Kay

P.S. Always a PS. The cap'n only has two requests for his funeral: One is that I play "It's been a Lovely Cruise" the other is that I don't bring a date to his funeral. Of course, I will honor one request. Which one?

Later On

And back to my true vocation in life. The one for which I don’t get paid.

Now where were we?

“Cinnabar, Cinnabar,” a sultry voice beckons across the airways. And so our day begins in Spanish Wells, Eleuthera, Bahamas.

We jump off the back of our boat and walk to shore to take Stanley, the killer bichon for his morning rounds. No, we haven’t become so sanctified that we can now walk on water, we’ve only been here a couple of weeks, after all. Nope, it is just that tide is way out and as you know we’ve been there before (Somedays you watch the show. Somedays you are the show). However this time we are not alarmed since we are tied safely to a mooring and aren’t trying to slog our way through the mud in our usual means of navigation. We just have to walk sideways on the boat until the tide comes back in. Why don’t we move to another mooring in deeper water? Maybe later on. We kind of like being able to walk to shore.

Later on in the morning, Bradley Newbold, aka “Cinnabar” and the owner of the mooring we are tied to, stops by to say “Hello” and deliver a fresh baked loaf of Bahamian bread from his wife of the sultry voice.

Bradley said his wife was encouraging him to retire. Bradley is the other side of 80 so I assume his wife is of a like age. They must be living right in Spanish Wells. Bradley was also our pilot through the Devil’s Backbone when we finally decided to leave. Devil’s Backbone is a series of coral heads and reefs that is as bad as it sounds. And since I’ve detailed in several blogs, the magnetism that “skinny” water holds for us, we thought we’d save ourselves the mortification and repairs for once.

Later on we’ll wonder into town and head to “Teen Planet” our favorite lunch spot. The name reflects the fare of burgers, pizza, and, best of all, the first tacos we’ve found in the Bahamas. Not quite what you consider authentic Bahamian food? After awhile you get tired of eating grouper fingers, fried conch, and yes, even lobster. (Don’t hate me!) And let’s just say, Spanish Wells is not quite like the rest of the Bahamas. It is authentically unique.

The regulars at the Teen Planet include us in their idle island gossip as if we know who they were talking about. Why not? We’ve been there for all of two weeks.

Upstairs from Teen Planet is a theater where we attended a live, I swear to God, a real country music concert. It was a novel experience for us. It was the first time we’d ever listened to country music without the benefit of beer. The music was actually very good but it was lacking a crucial component for us. If I didn’t mention it before, Spanish Wells is dry. No beach bars, no tiki huts, no icy sweet umbrella drinks sweating in your hands. It was whispered to us though that there was a lady that sold it out her back door or you can dinghy across to another island that has a liquor store, or you can catch the ferry/towboat that makes regular stops there. You knew there had to be a way if the cap’n and I stayed there for 6 weeks.

Later on we wonder through the town down to the park by the bridge. It has a beautiful pristine pink sand beach, but best of all it has public bathrooms with showers. As we stroll the lanes lined with tidy houses and well kept yards, the locals call out greetings and wave as they whiz by in their cars of golf carts. Why not? As I said we’d been there two weeks.

Later on we make tracks for Tom and Jean’s for the nightly cocktail gathering and meanwhile I’ll browse for any new books that might have been dropped off at their book exchange that is housed in the living room of their house. Tom and Jean are former boaters (actually, they still have a boat moored out in the mooring field) that pulled in and fell in love with the place. This is a well known hazard to navigation. They now open their home to wayward sailors and other souls for nightly rounds of prohibited libations and ribald chat.

Later on we wind our way back down to the waterfront which is lined with groups of locals sitting and chatting in the twilight. They murmur goodnight as we pass by.

Later on we’ll loose Agur’s Wish from the mooring and sail over to ‘Briland (Harbour Island) and hang out with Mick and Cher.

Later on…..

As I’ve said before, I don’t make this stuff up!

Spanish Wells, Eleuthera, Bahamas

SCUM ALERT!
I was receiving some really weird comments so I've had to add the word verification for comments. Hopefully, the creep can't read or it's been an automated response. Please don't let this stop you from commenting, I love to hear from you.

Agur's Wish Homesick Blues

It is snowing here in Colorado tonight and I am thinking I should be in Abaco. I should be swaying on the hook on Agur’s Wish in Hope Town Harbour tonight. Not just because it’s warm there and it sure as heck isn‘t warm here tonight.. No, I should be spending the last few of Agur’s Wish’s nights in Abaco with her, she might need me. She’ll be leaving the place she has called home for more than five years in a few days and I’ve been there, and I’ve done that.

I know she’s going to miss that gorgeous gin clear water.

I know she’s going to miss the sound of laughter in her cockpit.

I know she’s going to miss her friends at the dock.

I know she’ll miss friends stopping by just to say “Hi”

I know she’ll miss seeing old friends come into the harbour.

I know she’ll miss seeing new friends come into the harbour.

I wonder if she’ll miss that grass skirt we let her wear.

I know she’ll miss the hum of a lone predawn fishing boat cutting across the harbour heading to the sea.

I know she’ll miss the hues of morning racing each other across the sky.

I know she’ll miss the voice of the island as it goes about it’s work day.

I know she’ll miss the peal of church bells at the noon hour.

I know she’ll miss watching the colors chase the sun into the water at sunset.

I know she’ll miss the evening’s song and laughter.

I know she’ll miss the quick fall of dark.

I know she’s going to miss that shining beacon flashing through the night.

I know she’ll miss a sky so full of stars you can’t make out the black of night.

I know she’ll miss the bump of the turtle’s shell and the slap of the stingray’s wing as they glide beneath her.

I know she’ll miss the gleeful play of dolphins all around her.

I know she’ll miss that perfume of salt, sand, beauty, strength, grace and abundant joy.

Man, is she ever going to miss all those smiles.

I know she’ll miss the watchful eyes that looked over her when we couldn’t.

I wonder if she misses us and worries about how we’re doing.

I know she’s weeping tonight.

Fair Winds and Calm Seas, Agur‘s Wish,

I’ll see you in Annapolis.

P.S. Once again, I wish I made this stuff up. This ain’t a fairy tale, it really is out there, go out and live it. So why are we giving this up? My first response tonight? “Beats the hell out of me!“ Second response…Who says we are? Just a new chapter for both us and Agur’s Wish. As the cap’n will tell you, I reread my favorite books over and over and over again. And you know what? She is still ours. I hope I’m just adding more characters.

PLACES I'VE BEEN AND SHOES I'VE LOST

I was sitting here contemplating my gnarly old arch deprived feet the other day and I thought about the people that would be envious of me and my barefoot lifestyle. You know, the “No Shoes, No Shirt, No Problem” kind of life. The truth of the matter is….I don’t have any friggin’shoes left.

I don’t remember the first time I lost a pair of shoes. It was probably somewhere up north. Maybe in Block Island at the tiki bar at Champlin’s Marina. Probably the same night I learned to do the hand jive from some little girls that were sitting outside the bar’s entrance, the same night we couldn’t find the boat for a couple of hours. Hey come on, there were 1200 boats in the harbor.

There are a few times I do remember, though. Like my favorite pair of “Candies” sandals. (I admit, I never was a Manolo Blahnick kind of girl and anybody that knows me knows that.) They now rest in a watery grave at the Las Olas Marina in Fort Liquordale. We’d started our happy hour at Blondies on the corner of Las Olas Blvd. and A1A. Of course, Blondies’ happy hour starts at 10:00 a.m. and goes until. This is one of the cap’n’s favorite bars. He says it’s because of the scenery. Blondies is smack dab across the street from the beach which sports many signs that say nude sunbathing is not allowed under which numerous young nubile bodies are blatantly disobeying these public sanctions and the authorities are turning a blind eye but risking the other just for a peek. The cap’n went inside for some freshers and conversed with one of the patrons leaning tiredly against the bar.

“I’m so drunk. I really need to go home but I just can’t tear myself away from the view,” says the patron as he eyes one of the sun worshipers who I hope only had to pay for the half of the bathing suit she is wearing.

“Come on, man,” says my noble cap’n, “They’re obviously fake.”

“My complimentsh to the shurgeon,” drooled the bar patron.

Later on that night after bar bouncing down A1A with the cap’n and four other guys, (Mary’s a lucky girl!! One of them even looked exactly like Steven Segal, but his shirt was wrinkled and he lived in a cinder block house so I don’t think it was him.) we ended up back at the boat for a nightcap (like we needed one!). The tide was out, waaay out, and I was faced with a little 6 ft. hop down to the deck of the boat. I decided to do my best Baryshnikov impression and leapt…and missed…again. Instead of partaking of the assistance offered by my four handy male companions, I decided I’d retain what was left of my dignity while floating around with the skirts of my very short dress swirling about me and climb aboard myself. No, not by using the ladder. The cap’n never puts it down. I guess he doesn’t want it to get wet. Instead I’ll use the barnacle encrusted piling to which the boat is tied up. I’ll just use the barnacles as foot and handholds. Just like one of those climbing wall on those fancy cruise ships. Not a good idea, as my oozing scraped up arms and thighs would attest to in the weeks following. I did eventually make it back onboard but alas my poor “Candies” didn’t.

Marsh Harbour Marina and Jib Room Restaurant, Abacos, Bahamas. It was a dark and stormy night. I don’t remember what kind of shoes they were but I’d lived aboard long enough that I’m certain they were of the moldy variety. I can’t even blame it on too many Bilge Burners or any of the other lethal adult beverages that Steven, the bartender at the Jib Room, serves up. We hadn’t even gone into the Jib Room, instead we’d had a nice quiet dinner with some friends who lived across the road. Just a couple of glasses of wine. When the evening wound down, we made our way down the death defying steps of the Marsh Harbour Marina without mishap and proceeded to the dinghy dock to continue our passage home. Did I mention it was raining? For some imperceptible, idiotic reason I chose this night to abandon my usual “old lady, ass slide” into the dinghy and leapt feet first. And I made it! At least my feet did! The dinghy lurched one way, of course I lurched the other and with arms windmilling I ended up in the drink….again. By the time I sputtered to the surface, whatever shoes I had on were permanently embedded in the muck of the bottom. Another innocent pair of shoes left behind along with a pretty good chunk of my scalp on the dock. Thanks, Cleatus. Whooee! Those scalp wounds sure do bleed! Fins to the left, fins to the right. And I'm the only bait in town!

So this year before we got on the boat the cap’n refused to invest anymore capital into my shoe inventory. “Nothing but thongs,” he pronounces. I presume he meant the shoe kind. Have you ever tried to find flip-flops in Colorado in the winter? So here I am shoeless. But you know what? If shoes are required, I don’t think I want to go.

CONFESSIONS OF A MASS MURDERER

This is such an exciting time of year for us boaters. Everybody’s buying new gadgets (I’ll tell you about mine later). And ,of course, we’re stocking up on those cheap items we can find in larger ports before we head off to the boonies. I just have one piece of advice. Okay, I have a lot more than that but I’ll limit myself for now.


CONFESSIONS OF A MASS MURDERER

(THE SERIAL ROACH KILLER CHRONICLES)


Glossary: ECGIER=Every Cruising Guide I Ever Read


Today’s topic is how to prevent roach infestation. As is explained in ECGIER roaches are proliferate in tropical climates. Which, by the way, is where most of us dream of cruising so here are a few helpful hints offered in ECGIER.

Tip 1: ECGIER said that roaches love to lay their eggs in the glue of cardboard boxes and canned good labels. The solution is easily apparent. Never, ever, ever, ever bring these items aboard your boat. So the easy solution is to take those four grocery cart loads full of non-perishable goods that ECGIER told you to get and push them down to the dock. Then, before stepping foot on your boat remove every non-perishable item that is stored in a cardboard box, which is about 48% of the non-perishable food that ECGIER told you to buy and place it in a non-disposable, sealable plastic container. Don’t forget to label and include cooking instructions. Next take all the canned goods which make up about 50% of the non-perishable food items ECGIER recommended you purchase and remove the labels. Don’t forget to label and include cooking instructions and expiration dates although ECGIER says expiration dates don’t really matter unless the cans start to bulge or emit noxious fumes, kind of like the cap'n. The most important thing is to get rid of the roach eggs. That’s good because by the time you complete this process the expiration date on most of your items will have passed anyway. Okay so now we’re left with 2% of the non-perishable food items that ECGIER recommended you purchase that you can transport directly onto the boat…unless they have a label or happened to touch a canned good or a cardboard box. And you never know where those things have been before they became yours. Truthfully, I skip this step and I have never, ever seen anybody sitting out on a dock doing this but every cruiser I have met swears they never bring cardboard on a boat.

Tip 2: It’s about a week later and you're finally ready to bring your provisions on board the boat. There’s just one more thing that ECGIER recommends. It seems that roaches also like to lay their eggs in the adhesive of paper bags. No problem, right? You sacked all your groceries in plastics bags. Your out of the woods except…..Doesn’t flour come in paper bags? Red alert! Red alert! Some roach eggs might have fallen into the flour. So now you need to take that fifty pounds of flour ECGIER recommended you buy and put a bay leaf in every sealed plastic non-disposable container. Then for good measure freeze if for a week. If you have a freezer.I guess if you don't have a freezer you're doomed to live among the enemy.
By now your boat should be a roach free happy environment until the next time you go to the store except……ECGIER didn’t take into account that in the tropics some of the roaches have wings. So what it if they call them Palmetto bugs. They are not cherubim and seraphim of dearly departed formerly earthbound roaches. Nope they’re real roaches and they are free to fly about your boat.

Tip 3: ECGIER has their favorite roach bait recipe (Which makes me a little suspicious that the authors may be sneaking cardboard or labeled items on to their boat). They all have the consistent ingredient of Boric acid with assorted mixers ranging from sugar and water, sweetened evaporated milk and even dog food. I’ve tried them all and it seems like the dog food works best, just make sure Fido can’t get to it. Just dump a healthy dose of Boric acid in bowl and add mixer until you have a thick paste like consistency ECGIER recommends that you make little patties out of the stuff and then let them dry out on wax paper before placing them in the places roaches like to hang out but we like to serve ours up in used rum bottle caps of which we always seem to have plenty. Overnight you should start spotting some of those good roaches. The dead ones. Just pray they haven’t laid eggs.

Tip 4: How to spot a roach egg. This is pretty simple if you look in a locker and you find spilled pepper and you don’t happen to store pepper in that locker, you have found your roach eggs. They are little black specks that look just like pepper. There may be just a few individual ones or you may find clumps of them in the corner of the locker. In the early days I didn’t really even worry about eggs. I never saw any. Of course, I didn’t really know what I was looking for. I only worried about damage control when I found the live proof of infestation. Then out would come the Boric acid and the commerical traps. I’d find a few corpses and think my job was done. Then a few weeks later I’d see these tiny little beetle like things with wiggling antennae crawling around or doing the backstroke in the dog dish. They didn’t look like roaches. In fact they were kind of cute. Kind of like how pit bull puppies are cute. Well, don’t get attached to the things because now’s the time to strike before they have time to mature enough to mate and expand their family tree. You don’t want your boat to become their ancestral home. .

Tip 5: Give ’em Da Bomb In truth, I’ve really only had one invasion and having lived aboard on and off for eleven years, most of them in the tropics, I consider myself lucky. Unfortunately, the one infestation got out of hand because I kept trying the various aforementioned remedies and each generation got a little more resistant to my various potions. I knew when I saw them doing reps with my barbells (at least someone was using them) it was time to try something else.I happened upon the bombing solution when we were leaving the boat for a period of time in the Bahamas. The local that was going to be looking after the boat while we were gone came on to familiarize himself with our systems and noticed our growing colony of unwanted “guests”. He volunteered to take care of the pests for us also. While we were gone he set off a couple explosive devices and we have not had any return visitors for many years. It probably helped that most of the food was off of the boat at the time. Or maybe our guests finally figured out that I wasn’t going to feed them any more of the delicacies I had been concocting for them and went off to find a more gracious hostess.

Tip 6: Skip Tips 1-4 and go straight to Tip 5 at the first sighting of these sneaky creatures. Show no mercy! None of this hand to hand (more like hand to mouth) combat. Go straight for da bomb. Of course, follow the manufacturer’s instructions on the deployment of all weapons in your artillery.


Tip 7: Please make sure you have no open flames on the boat when you set a bomb. The first time we were in St. Thomas there was a guy and his friend on his boat that set off a bomb and then went up on deck and were promptly blown into the wild blue yonder. One of them survived, one didn’t Apparently, the owner had left a pilot light lit on his stove.

I'm off for a good Chianti and some fava beans.

HAVE A GOOD DAY!

Fantasy Fest Survival

OMG! I almost forgot what time of year it is. It's Fantasy Fest Time. Yeah, I've been, Nah, I didn't get a total body paint, Yeah, I got me some beads, wampum,...and I still couldn't get me a drink. Here's the story.
We happened to be in DC at Gangplank Marina on 9/11, we happend to be scheduled to fly out of Reagan that morning back to Kansas and home, obviously, that didn't happen. The Potomac was closed and we were stuck, but I have to say what a profound time to be there and we wouldn't trade it for the world. However, 3 weeks later the Potomac opened up and the cap'n says "I'm going to Fantasy Fest!" Not even stopping by Disney World, he was going to "Fantasy Fest!" And as he likes to say, "I've been to two pig pullin's and three county fairs but I ain't never seen nothin like that. Well, if you're going to go take some advice from me.

FANTASY FEST SURVIVAL GUIDE


“Get dressed up and I’ll take you out tonight,” the cap’n said.

I could hardly believe my ears. What would I wear? A little short slinky number or something more sophisticated? Where will we go? A nice, quiet restaurant or a lively bar? I’ll go all out. I’ll put on make-up and even style my hair. Of course, I’ll have to do it under the hand dryer in the marina bathroom.

This was all before I found out the cap’n’s idea of dressing up was an itsy bitsy bikini top and a long, but tight mermaid skirt.

“Uh, I don’t think so!”

Not with this forty-something, never-met-a-food-group-I-didn’t-like body. Now I don’t mind indulging the cap’n’s sordid imagination on the rare occasion. But in the privacy of our own boat, for Chrissakes! Not out in public! Not on your Buster Browns!

“Where in the world did you think you were going to take me dressed like that?” I implored.

“To Fantasy Fest,” the cap’n replied.

“I can’t go in that get-up,” I cry. “I’ll be horribly over-dressed!”

For the few unfortunate and unenlightened souls out there, Fantasy Fest is a yearly event in the Conch Republic of Key West. Every year in October thousands of people converge on this small island to dance, go naked, get painted, and get plastered.

A lot of us think this is fun!

A few tips before you go though:

Have a designated place to meet if you should get separated because amidst a throng of 70,000+ bodies, you will get separated. And when you do get separated the cap’n should at least put up a plausible act of trying to find you. Unlike one cap’n I know very, very well (right down to a certain special place where the angels kissed him) who, when his first mated finally located him at 4:00 a.m., said ,”But Honey, I stayed in the same spot where we got separated the whole night so you could find your way back to me.” The fact that he was finally located a half a mile from that spot was damaging enough. The numerous pictures of numerous pairs of female protuberances in front of numerous different bars sealed the verdict. Busted!

Make sure each of you has your own money. I witnessed one poor abandoned mermaid who had gotten separated from her cap’n who didn’t even have the fare to pay for the water taxi back to her boat, much less any money to buy herself a drink. I did have one very nice older man that kept offering me a ride on "their bus" back to the hotels that I had to convice that his bus could not take me back to my boat on a mooring in Garrison Bight. I did manage to borrow the 15.00 water taxi fee from him, now if I could only find the water taxi. I should have had a counter on for how many times I walked between Duvall Street and Schooner's Wharf. Now for those of you that choose to undergo a total body painting you’ll have to be a little more imaginative in stashing your cash. A“fanny pack.”perhaps.

The cap’n advises that you take your dog with you, in case you get separated from your first mate. You’ll need some companionship. No, Dummy, not from the dog. You use the dog as a chick-magnet. Apparently it works because Stanley, the dog, got more beads I did and he didn’t even have to humiliate himself to do it.

Buy your first-mate lots of beads so she won’t feel rejected if nobody asks to view her feminine attributes. Not that she would show them if asked. Would she?

Have Fun! And by the way, if you see some poor, lost, bedraggled mermaid wondering around, buy me a drink, darn it!

Aw!! Stanley looks so young then, he's older now, wiser, and blind. The same could be said of me.

Going Off: Intracoastal Waterway vs. Offshore Passage

Howdy everybody,
It's that time of year again. Everybody's stocking their boats up and getting ready to head south. There's just one question, do you do the ICW or do you bite the bullet and go offshore. Here's my take on the issue. As usual, it's completely unbiased.

I’ve decided to come out of the closet. I’m stepping forward and declaring my true feelings. I’m tired of pretending to be something I’m not. I’m a little nervous but I am unashamed for I know there are others like me out there. I know this because they’ve told me. Muttered under the breath confidences while surrounded by “normal” sailors. Somebody has to be the first to make the admission, so here I go.

“I hate offshore passages…..especially offshore passages at night.”

Already I hear the collective horrified gasps of the “don’t ask, don’t tell” sailing community.

“Infidel!”

“Perversion of sailing nature!”

I know. I know. Believe me I’ve suffered a guilt complex for years. It took forever for me to admit even to myself. Years of doing it but never really liking it.

So what is a sailboat’s first mate of a different persuasion to do? Well, for the last three years the cap’n and I have been fortunate enough to sail the eastern coast where there is a very handy solution to this problem. It’s called the Intracoastal Waterway. It has great scenery and the social possibilities abound with its parade of sun seeking boats. There are great places to dock or anchor. The best part is if you get into trouble you can pull in somewhere without having to call the coast guard to come out and get you. As a matter of fact, I feel it’s downright unpatriotic not to use the ICW. It took a lot of men a lot of years to dig this ditch for us. I guess somebody else didn’t like offshore passages either. We owe it to them to use it as often as we can.

So what’s the problem?

The cap’n hates it!

Okay, I admit it does get a little skinny here and there and it’s a little humiliating to have all your new friends hearing you hail Sea Tow on the VHF. These are probably the same friends you spent the night before espousing sailing wisdom to. But it’s only mud and as they say on the ICW and just about every other body of water, “If you haven’t run aground you’re either lying or you never left the dock.”

“I just can’t relax if I have to watch the depth gauge all the time,” the cap’n whines.

Relax? Oh yeah. Let me describe a relaxing overnight passage we did across the Chesapeake to Norfolk, VA. Yeah, I know it’s not offshore but it was doing a damn good impersonation that night. A fluke of nature? I don’t think so since it repeated itself a few days later on a true offshore from Wrightsville Beach to Charleston. All of you of the offshore persuasion can read on and reminisce.

It was a beautiful, clear starlit night. There was no wind, of course, and NOAA was predicting waves of one foot. We all know NOAA has a tendency to lie. The cap’n defended NOAA. He says the waves really were 1 foot or less it was the swells that were seven to ten feet. So it was just like one of those wonderful offshore nights. You know one of those nights where it feels like some demonic grandmother has lifted you up and is rocking you madly to and fro until you throw up. You dutifully pull your watch but even when you’re off watch there is no rest for the weary. Instead it seems you’re at the hands of some amateur magician who keeps levitating you of your bunk just to drop you a few seconds later. And he just won’t give up, he keeps trying over and over and over again. Of course, your stomach is levitating and dropping right along with your tired body.

So let’s compare. The previous described relaxation versus going aground in soft mud and sitting back and tossing back some cold ones until Sea Tow comes to rescue you. Seems like a no brainer to me.

The cap’n won’t give up.

“It saves time,” he argues.

That’s a good argument but consider the following scenario. The story you are about to hear is true and not even the names have been changed to protect the guilty.

See the cap’n and I and our friends, Larry and Joan, at Point A discussing our sail plans over sundowners. The cap’n is adamant and a bit superior in his plans to go offshore to Point B. Larry and Joan demurely state that they have decided to do the ditch. See Mary (me) look enviously at Larry and Joan.

The next morning:

See the cap’n and I wave regretfully at our friends as they head down the ditch and we head out the inlet. It will probably be awhile before we meet up since we’ll be so far ahead of them.

Two days after departure:

See the cap’n and I drop the anchor at Point B. We are so exhausted we barely make it to the bunk before we crash. We sleep the whole day away.

Three days after departure:

See Joan and Larry wave gaily as they anchor next to us at Point B. See the cap’n scrubbing saltwater stalagmites that have formed over all outside, and some inside, surfaces. See me resecuring and restowing escaped stuff in preparation for our next relaxing offshore leg.

See Larry and Joan get into their dinghy to go explore town and get a bite to eat. Our dinghy is deflated and secured.

See Joan smile happily at Larry.

See me shoot daggers through my eyes at the cap’n.

The next morning:

See Larry and Joan heading back down the ditch.

See the cap’n and I following right behind them.

THE END!


38 days 'til back on the boat

By the way GW is getting pretty lonely down there as my only other first mate and I'm getting my feelings, but hey, it's not all about me, wait a minute, I guess it is since I haven't heard from the rest of you. You know being Catholic, I've got plenty of guilt to spread around.

Emergency Medications for Cruisers

I sent Kary May back to Great Guana Cay where she is probably busy picking splinters out of her thighs. Which reminded me that I probably need to restock our medical bag for the season.
A surgeon friend of ours was good enough to make us a list a couple of years ago and I thought I'd share it with you before you start heading out.

EMERGENCY MEDICATIONS FOR CRUISERS

INFECTIONS such as severe sinus infections, diverticulitis, appendicitis, prostatitis (men only duh), travelers diarrhea (from contaminated water) use Levaquin 500 mg. 1 pill every day for 10 (ten) days or Avelox 400 mg. 1 every day also for 10 (ten) days. Septra DS (Bactrim DS) 1 twice a day is also good. For skin infections from cuts, abrasions, burns, coral bumps, etc you can use Levaquin with the dose above or Penicillin 500 mg every 6 (six) hours. Penicillin is cheap. Levaquin is not but you should have it aboard for the more serious infections. Use your on board antibiotics only when a medical facility is not readily available. For a tooth abscess use Penicillin or Avelox. Penicillin has always worked best for me but if you are allergic to Penicillin, Levaquin or Avelox are OK to take. Urinary tract infections (burning on urination with possible blood or pus) can be treated with Cipro 500 mg. twice a day or Levaquin or Avelox in the dosage above. After a course of antibiotics, diarrhea (yellow stools) may occur. You may need Flagyl 500 mg. Every 8 (eight) hours for 10 (ten)days. Downside to this is that you can not consume alcohol. Bummer !

PAIN CONTROL For minor pain use Tylenol, Advil or Aspirin. For severe pain use Ultraset 37.5/325 mg. 1 tab every 12 (twelve hours) or Tylox (Oxycodone) 5/500 1 or 2 (one or two) every 6 (six) hours. These are potent narcotics and you should seek medical help soon. Most of these meds will require an RX from your Doc. as serious liver damage has been reported. . Check the label of your meds for contents.If you drink more than 9 (nine) drinks a WEEK , (not per day) you should NOT use Tylenol or Acetaminaphen

BURNS For minor burns (stove bites, 2nd degree sunburn or anything that blisters the skin, etc) use Bacitracin cream or Triple Antibiotic cream. Apply as directed and have an assortment of bandages, Telfa pads, Coban dressings and gauze dressings aboard. For severe burns when the skin is charred (fire, electrical fires or spark) use Silvadene Cream. Apply liberally, bandage and seek medical help fast. CHEST PAIN Carry aboard Nitroglycerin (not the explosive) tablets. Place 1 (one) tablet under the tongue and allow to dissolve every 5 (five) minutes up to three tablets. Start an Aspirin regimen of 325 mg daily ASAP. Seek medical advice faster. For preventative measures take one baby aspirin, 80mg per day

YEAST INFECTIONS (Women only, duh) Use Monistat (available over the counter OTC) vaginal suppositories or cream and apply as directed. You gals may have to take Acidophilus to replace the lost vaginal bacteria when using antibiotics.

ACID REFLUX DISEASE / ULCERS You can use Nexium 40 mg. Or Protonix 40 mg each 1 (one) daily. Consult your physician before beginning this regimen.

NAUSEA /VOMITING For your guests that may be not acclimated to the bouncing, rolling and pitching of boats, we use Dramamine or Meclazine both OTC. Scopolamine patches are also now available. For severe N/V Phenergan Suppositories work well.

MISC. For colds use OTC cough and cold drugs. Sudafed is good for runny noses and congestion. Benadryl 25mg OTC is good as an antihistamine and anti itch. Carry some sterile eye wash, antibiotic eye ointment, ear antibiotic and a bee sting kit as precaution. You should carry a 3 (three) month supply of medications along with whatever meds you routinely take and have prescriptions or copies of prescriptions for all drugs aboard your vessel.

And since most of us are cheap ass cruisers remember to ask for generics.

Kary May's Sexy Guide to Buying a Boat

I’d been in the Bahamas for several months when I noticed a strange phenomenon kept occurring. I’d introduce myself to someone and they’d say “I already met you over in Guana. Don’t you remember, you were dancing with that tree.?” It took a little investigation but I finally discovered that I had an evil twin that lived on Great Guana Cay. Her name is Kary May and she dances with trees and poles because, unlike men, they don’t spin her too fast or dip her too low but somehow she still manages to fall down.

Unfortunately, Kary May showed up last night and these are her ideas on how to buy a boat….

I’ve been racking my brain all week on how to help my cousin, Mary Kay, help you all figure out what kind of boat to buy. I pondered all of the advantages and disadvantages of every kind of boat and how to steer you towards the boat that was right for you. Power vs. sail, mono hull vs. multi hull, 2 heads vs. 1, propane vs. alcohol…

And then, as it is prone to do, my brain turned to the subject of sex. I tried to turn it back to task--think sail trim, think bow thrusters, think self-tailing wenches, but it all brought me back to “SEX”. How in the world is buying a boat at all akin to “SEX”.

And then it came to me.

All of the four main boat types that we encounter in our boating life share attributes with various suitors we have encountered or would like to encounter. We’ll call them Monohull Mike, Multihull Mario, Trawler Tom, and Powerboat Paulo.

Let’s start with Monohull Mike since he’s the one I’m more familiar with. He’s the kind of guy you take home to Daddy. Mike’s got clean strong lines and he comes from a respectable yard. He’s gonna get Daddy’s little girl home safe at night and he’s not gonna run out of gas on the way. He’s stable, he doesn’t move too fast and he’s got plenty of storage for his prophylactic safety devices.

Unfortunately , he only as room in his heart for you. He’ll gladly double date for an evening but only if it’s "dutch". He truly believes three is a crowd. His cockpit may be teenie but his heart his huge.

Multihull Mario: He’s the bad boy of the sailing world. The Monohull Mikes say he is unstable and doesn’t have the staying power. Mario says he likes being a little off balance and if he needs a little more thrust, that‘s what his jugs are for. He’s a party guy and his big cockpit will accommodate all comers. After you’ve multihulled you can try out the trampoline out front. Yee-Haw !!!

Trawler Tom: He’s the comfort food of boats. Just like a slice of Mom’s apple pie he’s a yummy piece of home. He’s got the back porch to rock away a lazy day with a good book. He’s got comfy chairs and real lamps. In his former life he might have been a Mike or Mario but he doesn’t want to work that hard on trim anymore, he just wants to get there. Lucky for us, he’s not in a hurry so he waits for the perfect moment, making the passage smooth and comfortable. And since he’s usually plugged in to a slip, you know what position you’re going to be in each and every night.

Powerboat Paulo: Ah…the elusive dreamboat that surges through our sodden dreams. He’s aloof and definitely high maintenance. Paulo may not know his way around a stuffing box, but what the heck, he’s got others to do the grunt work for him. He’s so sleek and sophisticated, we’d be happy just to polish his doorknobs. Ahh….but for most of us he is just a dream.

So there you go, Kary May’s guide to boat buying. It’s just so hard…uh, I mean difficult to choose. I think I’ll take one of each.

Is my mind in the bulge, uh, I mean bilge or do a lot of sailing terms have sexual connotations? I can think of dozens. How about you? How about sharing them with us by posting them under the comments tab at the bottom of this post.

Rule Four: Home is where the heart is

I know , I know, I know!
The Annapolis boat show is coming up and your cap'n is lathering to get out and get a boat. A word to the wise, read my article "Smitten" on this blog to see what happens at the Annapolis boat show. Believe me they all look good! And I promise next week's blog will be about what boat will suit you. But for now, I have one more thing you need to discuss before you even buy the airline tickets to the boat show. By the way, it's probably too late to get a room.

This topic may not seem significant but it will influence what kind of boat you buy and where you choose to sail and, once again, the cruising kitty. Better to get it out of the way.

How often will you travel back home?

This may not be of much concern if you are living aboard part time and spending the rest of the time at a land-based home that is conveniently located for trips to your favorite F&F’s(friends and family). You must keep in mind though, emergencies and important events that you will need or want to attend will sometimes happen. To illustrate this during our first year and a half of living aboard full-time four out of our five children got married, one parent died, one parent broke his hip and we’ve had two grandchildren. We made it back for all of the weddings, the funeral, and one grandchild's birth. However, we were either in FL or the Bahamas which is a 1 or 2 day flight to anywhere in the US. These are just the big events. With the high cost of travel this subject needs to come up in the arguing, I mean “setting the rules” stage of planning. Don’t forget to include trip expenses in the cruising kitty. Be prepared for the emergencies and be honest about the non-emergencies you expect to attend back in that other life. I can’t count the number of fights, I mean discussions, the cap’n and I have had over about what constitutes an emergency worthy of a trip home. How does this affect what kind of boat you're going to buy? Well, if you are going to stay in easy reach of F&F's you probably don't need a bluewater cruiser. Which is what the cap'n and I bought because we should have done all of the Caribbean and crossed to the Med by now. Instead, we found a place just 90 miles off of FL that some ski jets have made it to on one tank of gas and we fell in love. We've been there for four years but in our defense we've stayed at a different cay every year. By the way cap'n say's we're going further south this year. All of our boater friends just laugh.

Okay I'm getting tired of getting no input from my fellow first mates, I'm thinking of starting a roll call just like in school:
Dori (Sol y Mar)
Doris (Exit Strategy)
Cindy(?) It was one of those nights
Jill (JillyQ)
Pattie (Blue Dolphin)
Phyllisx2 (Chapter X and Mollie 2)
Marie (Typee Mistress)
Susan (Perpetual Motion)
Lynn (Boomerang)
Susie (Blue Jacket)
Ami (Mon Ami)
Ruthie (Galena)
Mary (I love that name) (Who Cares)
Linda (Ciganka)
Cat (Catherine) (Highland Wanderer)
& Many Many More
Hey gals,
All you have to do is click on that tiny comment tab on the bottom of this post and say "here". I know none of you are shy. I've danced around poles with you.
.........

Love you all!
Safe sailing

Mary

Hitting Rock Bottom

They always say the first step toward recovery is admission. We made our own painful admission in one of those all too common, smoke filled rooms where lost souls gather for comfort and that shaky support that helps people like us to keep going in the face of momentous adversity. We sat uneasily in a darkened corner of the room, interlopers amidst the familiar crowd. Finally someone spied our shrinking forms in the gloom and started toward us. As he neared and glimpsed our ravished faces his eyes widened in sympathy.

“What the hell happened to you?” he roared.

The room quieted and all eyes riveted to us. Next to me, the captain cleared his throat and muttered, almost inaudibly, “We, uh, hit a reef.”

A murmur rushed through the room. Arms were thrown about our shoulders, beers were thrust into our clammy hands, and we were welcomed into the fold. The meeting place was a funky little bar called “Coconuts” in St. Thomas and the injurious reef will remain anonymous since we don’t know the statute of limitations after hitting a reef. With the captain sprouting two fresh black eyes and me, the first mate, sporting a sutured hole in my bottom lip (before the stitch job, the captain observed that I was the only woman he knew that could close her mouth, pinch her nose, and still breathe) we spent the evening being regaled by stories and stories of boat mishaps. Each story grew in grandiose stupidity. That was our first bare boat charter. You people who consider putting your boat in charter, remember this. I wish I could say we’ve never run aground again but we continue our active membership in the “Bottom Dwellers Anonymous Club”. Luckily since the reef incident our groundings have been on friendlier bottoms in our own boat and none have required trips to the boat yard or emergency room. We even have our favorites! Lets see…..

There was the time we were headed out of the Chesapeake City anchorage. Concerned about the current pushing us starboard, we fought to stay in the middle of the channel when you could say we found “higher ground”. After several attempts to get off this mass of earth smack dab in the middle of the channel, we decided to kick back and have a couple of cold ones and wait for the tide to rise. Hey, why didn’t we think of that before we pulled up anchor? Since we were the morning’s source of entertainment for fellow boaters and the patrons of the restaurant off our stern, we decided to partake in some of our own side-poking. We especially enjoyed the smaller powerboats that would buzz by us in the channel, slow down and quizzically circle the boat and then question the obvious.

“Are you guys aground?”

“Nah”, we replied, “We just got tired and thought we’d stop and have a beer”.

That was about 10:00 a.m. and three hours later the tide finally lifted us off and on our way.
And then there was the time coming out of Annapolis. It was a gorgeous late September day when we left our dink tied to the mooring and headed out with two non-sailing guests for an afternoon of sun and sail. Shanna and Danny from our land locked hometown back in Kansas. had come out to visit us and see what a bay looked like. The captain was at the helm (although the captain disputes this, claiming our friend Shanna was at the helm, but that’s not the way the rest of us remember it). I was assisting Danny in raising the main and putting out the headsail. The wind was light. The bow dipped then rose to crest the foam and then…..
“Oh, sh--!” was heard from the cockpit (this indisputably from the captain) as the boat came to a graceful stop. Once again our fellow boaters displayed an uncanny grasp of the obvious. Most astute was the captain of the water taxi who helpfully told us,

“If you all get on the other side of that big white marker (obnoxiously noticeable off our port bow), you’ll be fine.”

Apparently he was not observant enough to notice we were not moving. Tow-Boat US to the rescue. Thank God we had the insurance!

Our latest mishap happened right south of the Carolina Beach Bridge. We were following a boat that we had noticed bumping bottom several times in the course of the morning trip down the ICW. Yep, that’s right we were knowingly following this boat. Now there could be several explanations for this: (A) We thought they might dredge a channel for us, (B) The Pied Piper Syndrome, where we are inexplicably drawn to one of “us”, and imminent peril, or (C) sheer stupidity. Luckily, we had sort of planned on another “occurrence” and had arranged for alternate means of rescue. Obviously we’d had this kind of trouble before. This time we had our own personal towboat following a few miles behind us. Tow- Boat “Next”, a 40 foot Sea Ray and her crew John and Justine, had befriended us months before in Block Island and had served on and off as our “scout” and rescue boat since. We highly recommend this arrangement. Once again, we provided entertainment for the passing rubberneckers.

In closing, I’d like to offer a bit of advice. Next time you’re chuckling at another boater’s misfortune remember, “There but for the grace of God, goes you”. And for all of you thinking it was sheer stupidity that landed us in the last predicament, believe me there were plenty of “followers” that we had to frantically direct to the real channel instead of the one we had just made. I won’t mention their names since anonymity is a right of the members of this non-exclusive club.

Our numbers are great and growing all the time. Just remember, we’re your neighbors at the dock, we’re the couple you met in the laundromat, we’re the boat you’re following right now…..Oh, Sh--!!!

Rule Three: Living Your Boating Lifestyle

Now that we have a breather from hurricanes. Let's get back to "Rules". I know your captain is getting anxious to get out there and buy a boat but there are a few more things to discuss.
One of them is what kind of lifestyle do you envision if you decide to take the plunge.

Just as you don’t spend all of your time in your house on the land you won’t spend all your time on your boat. What environmental conveniences or entertainment do you think will be necessary for your happiness and well-being on a boat? The standard (dirt-dweller’s) impression of cruising is sailing from one isolated paradise-like anchorage to another, spending everyday frolicking in the sand and water. Truthfully, there are many boaters that pull into a dock, plug in the electrical cord and don’t leave for months. They meet regularly for bridge games and drinks. They play tennis. They form yacht clubs. There is a myriad of lifestyles to choose from. Some are more expensive than others but inexpensive doesn’t necessarily mean deprived. One of the basic lifestyle decisions is where you want to cruise. Does he dream of Arctic endurance trials while you’re dreaming of tropical indulgence? Are you on the same time table for your cruise. Does he want to push on to a new port every night getting to some unnamed destination while you want to spend time enough to get to know the locals and maybe even become one? Do you require a daily hot shower, coiffed hair and manicured nails? While many hard scrabble cruisers may scoff at these needs, if they are important to you you’d better let it be known. Believe me there are well groomed people out here too, author not included, so it can be done but once again you have to plan for it by choosing a boat that can supply the electrical and water capacity necessary, or a dock and location that provides the necessary services. Do you live for golf or tennis or whatever? Once again it can be done but make sure you cruise where these things are available. These are just a few of the lifestyle questions that need answered because it will influence what kind of boat you buy. It will also influence the cruising kitty needed to live the lifestyle that is acceptable to you. It's better to make your needs known now before you end up with a boat that cannot provide them or a budget that won't support them. And remember...you can compromise but do not cave in.

As always, I'd love to hear from other First Mates or First Mate Wanna Be's on this topic. Please!
Just click on the comment link on the bottom of this post. You no longer have to register. Just click Name/Url and put it your name.

Also you can email any of my posts to friends by clicking on the envelope.

Also,Also,I have been trying to get the advertisements more relevant to this site and it doesn't seem to be working on the main page but if you click on the "Link" on the bottom of the posts those advertisements seem to be more for the boating stuff we or our captains love.

One more thing.... I have added links to my favorite boating websites and blogs on the left side of the page under "About Me"

Oh yeah, if I get lucky enough to actually have readers that follow this site, I'd love to know who you are. You can register in the Fellow First Mates section also on the left side of the page underneath "My Blog Sites. Don't be shy.

Have Fun!

Fender Dockline Shuffle: Docking the boat

The cap'n said to lighten things up a little:
Nobody told me that when we bought a boat I was supposed to magically transform into some kind of superwoman. You know, the “able to leap tall buildings in a single bound and stop runaway freight trains” kind of gal. Except in my case, I was expected to spring onto rickety old docks from a moving boat and stop our fifteen ton boat from crashing into said dock with its attending fleet of shiny boats and their very interested crews. This is a pretty tall order for a girl who’s adolescent athletic prowess consisted of a fervently whispered, “Please don’t let the ball come to me. Please! Please! Please!” In fact, the only thing I like about long trips is the fact we don’t have to dock. If the cap’n didn’t insist on docking every now and then to get fuel, we probably would have already completed a couple of circumnavigations.
Before we bought our boat we had never had the opportunity to practice docking. We had taken several charters and while they never explicitly said we couldn’t dock their boats, the fact that they drove their boats out of the dock at the beginning of the charter and then came out in a launch and brought the boats back in at the end of the charter was a big hint. We didn’t mind, we liked it that way. Now if we could just get somebody to do that with our own boat.
It doesn’t help that my docking history has a rather auspicious beginning. It should have been simple! It was slack tide and we were told to tie up at the end of a
T-dock. It was even slack water. Perfect for a first-timer. I was nervous but eager as I stood at midships with bowline in hand. I kept my eyes trained on the dock of which we were slowly coming along side.
“Closer.”
“Closer.”
“Not yet, just a little bit closer”
“NOW!!”
I took the leap. Gracefully (I’m sure) I arced to the dock. Softly I landed on the balls of my feet. I wobbled. I stepped back with my left foot (We’ll have to take points off for that.). The right foot soon followed and found nothing but air.
“Too much momentum,” I muttered as I dangled from the bowline on the other side of the dock. Although I despaired of ever winning the gold medal in the docking olympics, the ever present observers of all things asinine bestowed upon me the honorary title of “Lady GoDiving”. I would like to clarify that I was wearing clothes that day.
Early on in our sailing days we were assured by old salts that docking would be no problem because of those “omnipresent” dockhands. We soon found out that their presence is only felt between Memorial Day and Labor Day, and it seems they are bestowed with the same passive-aggressive sense of humor that you usually find in bridge tenders, but that’s another story. You know the routine. It goes something like this:
About an hour away from docking…
“Marina Anywhere, Marina Anywhere. Agur’s Wish…”
The answer comes quickly and clearly.
“Vessel calling Marina Anywhere, this is Marina Anywhere. How can I help you, cap?”
After you state your desire for a prestigious spot at their beautiful marina, you are soothingly assured that your request will be granted if you just call back when you get a little closer.
Fifteen minutes away from the marina…
“Marina Anywhere, Marina Anywhere. Agur’s Wish…”
Dead silence…
You repeat, “Marina Anywhere, Marina Anywhere. Agur’s Wish…”
Faintly you hear, “Vessel “crackle, crackle”. This is “static, static, garble, garble”.
“Marina Anywhere, this is Agur’s Wish. We have reservations tonight at your marina. Can you give us directions to the dock?”
With handheld plastered to your ear you can barely hear,
“Keep going on your current heading until you reach “crackle snap pop” dock. Your slip is the “static, static” dock on the “crackle, buzz” side.
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you. Could you repeat what you said?” you implore, a little desperately.
“You’ll need a “crackle, crackle, snap” side tie up.”
“Will there be somebody there to help us with our lines?”
The response is clear this time.
“Oh, yeah. There’ll be somebody there to, “snicker, snicker” help you, alright.”
Now the real fun begins. You dash for the binoculars and frantically begin searching for either a sign from God or a guy in khaki shorts and raybans nonchalantly waving his handheld at you.
Finally you spot him, (not God, the guy in the raybans). He summons you forward casually indicating your intended dock. He watches coolly as you race to tie dock lines and attach fenders. Just as you finish securing the last fender, his lips curl in a cruel little smile.
“Oh by the way this is a stern in only dock”, he says.
As the captain tries to explain to the unconcerned dockhand that your boat doesn’t drive well in reverse, you frantically race to untie and retie dock lines and detach and reattach fenders. Meanwhile the captain is busy trying to convince the butt end of your boat that it’s supposed to go into the slip and as usual it’s acting like the stubborn ass it is and is instead heading for the bowsprit of the boat in the next slip
All the while the evil guardian angel dockhand is keeping watch with his benevolent smile. Finally, much like a cat with a dead mouse, he tires of playing with you.
“Oh, alright, I guess you can come in bow first”, he relents.
Once more you do the fender/dockline shuffle while he guides the captain to bring the bow in closer….closer…keep coming…Crash!
“Whoa! Perfect!” he exclaims.
Finally the catastrophe is over and the boat is miraculously tied up safely for the night. The captain and you are settled in the cockpit with potent sundowners. Suddenly a hapless sailboat comes rushing in on the current. The panicked expression on the first mate’s face is easily recognizable. Your head swivels and you spot the same dockhand sauntering toward the last empty slip which just happens to be right next door. The captain and you look at each other. You know what you have to do. You jump off the boat and race to the empty slip, ready to do what you can to save your comrades from the evil grip of the dockhand, or at least minimize the damage to your boat.
Of course, the whole time I’m thinking…
“Please, please, please don’t throw the dock line to me!!”

P.S. To all dockhands every where, I have realized that the “evil dockhand” is a psychotic hallucination brought about by a fear of docking. The perceived evilness rapidly disappears the minute we are safely secured at the dock. Past and future “Muchas Gracias” to those that prevent imminent peril to life, limb and boat if us boaters were left to our own devices.

Hurricane Rules: How to prepare for a hurricane

Since Hurricane Hanna is about to bear down on our boat in the Bahamas I thought I would write a blog to keep my mind off of what might be happening to our boat, Agur's Wish. There are numerous strident and usually contradictory instructions on how to prepare the boat for a hurricane so I'm not going to get into that here. Instead I'm going to shared some lessons the cap'n and I learned about preparing ourselves after experiencing both Hurricane Frances and Jeanne in the Bahamas in 2004.

"Early" is the key concept in hurricane preparation.

Rule 1: The minute you clear customs in any new country register with your country's embassy in the country you are traveling in. This will let offials know where you are and if there is any kind of emergency, natural or political, they will know you are there and what kind of aid to render. This is a simple procedure and can usually be done over the internet or phone. For U. S. citizens go to www. usembassy.gov which will give you a list of countries. Click on the country your are visiting to view information pertinent to that country. The Bahamas even has a section on hurricane preparedness.

.2. Have a hurricane hole secured early. If you know you are going to be sailing in a specific area, you should have a secure hurricane hole picked out months before hurricane season arrives. For the past four years we have rented a mooring ball in the same harbour that the boat rode out Frances and Jeanne. Many boaters we know pay for these moorings for months while they sail the nearby islands just so they will have a place to run in case of a storm. Please note that all moorings should be dove on and checked by you personnally and you will have to add additional lines and chafe gear according to your own beliefs (I promised I wouldn't go there). If you decide to anchor out, once again the key is to get there "early"! Everybody will be running for the hurricane spots so you'll want to get there first to find a good spot. If you are there early you will be able to watch the mooring techniques and storm preparations of the boats that come in after you. If you deem that their preparations are inadequate you have two choices: you can jump in your dinghy and steam over to their boat and demand they move their boat and adhere to your strong suggestions (not likely), or you can offer to help them get their boat ready for the storm, giving you some damage control, literally. Believe me, most people are more than happy to accept help and suggestions when faced with the momentous task of getting a boat ready for a hurricane if approached in the right way. If the cap'n balks, ask the first mate if she/he needs help. She'll be more than glad to have you help the cap'n get the sails down while she secures things down below. Lastly, after seeing what was left of the Marsh Harbour docks after the hurricanes, I would never recommend leaving your boat at a marina dock. The pictures speak for themselves.

3. Have the boat and you ready early. You should allow at least three days for hurricane preparations and that is after you have moved the boat to your hurricane hole. Luckily, hurricanes give us plenty of warning as long as we are not laying bets on which way they might turn. Always assume they are going to turn in your direction. Once again I am not going to dwell on how to get the boat ready, there is plenty of literature out there for that. A couple of things I do want to mention though is to make sure you are topped off with water and electricty. Water will keep your boat heavier in a blow and plus it may be the only source of fresh water available after the storm. Electricity speaks for itself. After Frances and Jeanne, I felt superior to the dirt dwellers for the first time knowing I had fresh water and electricity on the boat when the people living in the fancy houses on shore didn't. Instead I want to dwell on how to get yourself ready to leave the boat. Even if everything you own is on the boat, you can't take it all with you. First of all, if you go to a public shelter they won't let you bring it in. Second, if you had good enough friends that helped you haul all that crap off your boat and up 26 marina steps and into the private shelter they are sharing with you, after days of being cooped up with you and all your crap, I promise they will not help you haul it back to your boat. Just remember that mantra you kept telling yourself when you sold all your belongings to move aboard "It's only stuff!" So.... early, way before a hurricane heads your way, make a list of things you will be taking with you off of your boat. You don't need a ditch bag because you should have plenty of time to gather these things. The list should include:

• Most importantly, papers i.e. passports, boat insurance, greenbacks, cruising permit, immigration documents, pet papers, medical records and prescriptions, health insurance.....you can never have too many papers.


• Clothes for a week. For some of us that amounts to one pair of shorts and a t-shirt but remember in the places that we cruise electricity and water may be shut off for long periods of time after a hurricane. After Frances and Jeanne it was close to month before we could find a laundromat open in the Abacos. Also remember you may not be able get right back to your boat, assuming you still have a boat to get back to.


• Food and water. Whether you go to a public shelter or secure a private residence, you will have to bring enough food and water to sustain you through the hurricane. Most of the food should be non-perishable (don't forget to pack a can opener). If you are in a shelter you will probably not have facilities to cook or refigerate it and even if you are in a private home these luxuries may be short lived. The Red Cross advises that you bring one gallon of water per person per day. This may not be possible, but do try to tote as much as you can. That's another good reason to make sure your tanks are full. Remember to remember your pet's needs also. Oh yeah, don't forget the emergency, only for medicinal use, recreational beverages. I know, I know, I know! They are not on the Red Cross Emergency List and they are not allowed in shelters (another reason to avoid public shelters) but this is my blog and the Red Cross has probably never been stuck for five days with boaters who have been enjoying nightly happy hours for years when the liquor runs out. I have and it ain't pretty. I've even heard of covert operations raiding nearby, unoccupied, dwellings for a cache. Unfortunately, the liquor cabinet was locked.


• Communication devices. Cell phones will eventually start working again. Computers and internet access will eventually start working again, besides it has all of your photos on it. So take them with you. The cap'n and I have had an Iridium satellite phone since we started sailing full-time. It has never failed us and even in the height of the hurricanes I was able to call back home and let family know we were alright . We were also able to help other boaters and locals call their families that were "off-island". Satellite phones can seem expensive but they are usually less expensive than trying to use your state-side cell phone. Our satellite phone costs about $1.00 per minute where our cell phone costs almost $3.00 per min. You can also rent satellite phones. To check out prices for renting or buying check out http://www.gmpcs-us.com/ or http://www.satphonestore.com/ . Another popular satellite phone is Global Star but I have heard a lot of complaints about calls being dropped. One of the boaters that stayed with us during the hurricanes had a Global Star and experienced this.


• Okay, now you can take you other valuables. Your jewelry, your gold coins, your stock certificates...oops, those belong with the papers your taking off the boat.

4. You don't have anymore line or rope left to secure anything else and the boat is looking like something out of a bondage fantasy. You've even used your last pair of shoelaces. Your sitting in the cockpit in the glaring sun with your meager possessions because you've taken all the canvas down and there's no room for you down below. Now, where are you going to go? Of course, "now" is not the time to start thinking about it. Once again, whether you've made your preparations "early" is going to be the key to the comfort in which you ride out the hurricane. Almost every place is going to have shelters available. The things to consider when considering a public shelter are:

• Do they take pets? If they do, are the pets required to be crated?


• You will have to take enough non-perishable food with you to last through the storm.


• Sleeping accomodations may be rudimentary.


• Bathing accomodations may be rudimentary.


• Lavaratory facilities may be rudimentary.


• Privacy will be minimal.

I don't mean to sound completely negative about shelters. In fact, I know several boaters that really enjoyed staying in the shelter they stayed in. In general, you can judge the conditions of the shelter by the conditions of the community. That's all I'm going to say about that.

Another option is staying at a resort or hotel since they have usually evacuated their guests. But since they have evacuated their guest, they probably don't want you there either.

Finally, you can seek out a private home. Many locals are very generous in opening their homes to boaters, especially if you have made yourself part of the community, and lots of times even if you haven't. If you are fortunate enough to have this option, please respond graciously and be an exemplary guest. Cook that meal, wash that pot, grab that mop! Believe me, you don't want to be voted out of the house in the middle of a hurricane. You want to be invited back next time, which happened to us when Jeanne followed Frances by only two weeks. If you don't receive an invite and you don't want to go to a shelter you may be able to rent a house during the storm. Many homes in cruising grounds are second homes that are rented out. They usually have caretakers that are on-island that you can contact about renting. Just ask around. Several boaters usually get together to rent one house.

5. Last, but most important. Get off the damn boat!! You'll notice I didn't even mention staying on the boat as an option and I know I'm going to get some grief from some boater friends about that. But really, a boat is just a boat, and is replaceable. You're not. Your cap'n is not. Your crew is not. Your pet is not. And the person that has to risk his life to rescue you is not.

Rule Number Two: To Live-aboard full-time or part-time

Okay, you've stomped you foot, you've shook your head, and ...
Now that we’ve got that out of the way. Maybe you’re actually considering it. Hmmm…It could be fun. He’s pumped you up. He’s talked about exotic ports and romantic nights under star studded skies. It’s sounding pretty darn good. Just the two of you.
Whoa, Nellie! Hold on a minute. It’s time for a reality check here. First for very few of us is it “just the two of us”. There’s the aging parents. There’s the kids and grandkids. There’s the brothers and sisters and most of us can find at least one person that will claim us as their friend.
I remember conversations with our loved F&F’s (friends and family) before we moved aboard full time. When the question of how long we were going to stay “out there” came up the cap’n would very confidently say “Oh, four or five years.” When the heads would swivel to me, I’d hem and haw and say “We’ll see.” Secretly, I was going to give it my best for two years. I remember one of our sons telling me, “Mom, you and Jeff need to talk. He was right.
It is unfair and most certainly a recipe for failure to enter into this great adventure giving your partner false expectations by not advising him honestly and unwaveringly of your own expectations. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve known each other, he can’t read your mind and in this instance he probably doesn’t even want to try.
All couples are different and have their different priorities and expectations. The following subjects seem to be some of the more common ones that come up for argument. Uh, I mean speculation. All of these will definitely contribute to what kind of boat you end up with.
Up first!
To live aboard full time or not. It seems to me that most cruising guides I read before moving aboard were based on the full time liveaboard. In my own experience though it seems that the people living aboard full time are the minority. Most cruisers still have a land based home in which they reside at least half of the year. For our first three years as boat owners the cap’n and I lived aboard our boat for six months of the year and went back to our house in our hometown to work for six months. I really enjoyed doing this. If I was getting sick of work and the routine of dirt dwelling I could see an end in sight. On the flip side if I was getting sick of the inconveniences of the boat and homesick for a hot bath, in-house laundry and the F&F’s, again, there was an end in sight. This seems to be the ideal solution for many cruisers. It, of course, requires the financial capability to pay for and/or maintain both the boat and the house. If you are having any doubts about life aboard full time it would certainly be prudent to try this arrangement, at least temporarily, before you sell your home and most of your belongings. If you decide to do this there are some steps you can take and sacrifices you can make before hand. For most people their biggest land based expenses are their home mortgage and car payments. In 1997 the cap’n and I went to the Annapolis boat show swearing we were only looking-not buying-and then came home the proud owners of Agur’s Wish. We truly hadn’t planned it this way. The big escape was supposed to be somewhere in the very distant future. We were working more than full-time in the medical profession, living in a 4000 sq. foot home and had three vehicles. We could have afforded to keep the boat and pay all the bills but we would still have to work full time. When would we have time sail? So we did what seemed logical. We mixed ourselves a drink. And then we mixed another. And as usually happens, in inebriated oblivion the impossible became possible. Fortunately, when we woke up the next morning it still seemed possible. We sold the house and moved into a duplex we already owned. We sold the good car and drove the other two until they were beaten and battered but still refused to die. We took extra call shifts and worked overtime to pay off our bills and build the cruising kitty. It wasn’t always fun but it was worthwhile knowing we were making our dream a reality. Finally, we were able to take off for our first six months of cruising bliss. Because we were only planning to cruise for six months, we were actually able to do this within nine months of buying the boat.
Another advantage of this arrangement is that it does give you time if needed to
work for a period of time to replenish the kitty. The cap’n and I are fortunate to work in the medical field which is rife with shortages guaranteeing us employment when we need it. I know several part-time cruisers who work in retail (Did someone say West Marine?) or construction or whatever they can find just to go cruising again. As I write this we are anchored next to a two masted schooner whose captain does day charters on his boat in the states for six months of the year so he can bask in the sunny islands the rest of the year. Where there’s a will there’s a way.
The cap'n and I did finally move aboard full-time for four years. After about three years I was growing a little disenchanted with the boat-life (read majorly depressed) and had serious house envy of anyone we visited. It took him about one more year, a summer spent dirt dwelling, a return to the Hot! Hot! Hot! Bahamas in September and a boat breakdown before he cried "Uncle!" I just cried "Hallelujah!" and opened up the laptop to the real estate sections. You might wonder why I waited a year of being unhappy before insisting we give up full-time boating. There are several reasons. First, and foremost, we had made so many friends where we were that I didn't want to leave. Second,I could tell he was ready also but hadn't admitted it to himself. Fortunately, he did finally admit it but some captains never do want to leave the boat or at least they never admit it. Why is that? There is very strong feeling in the boating community that to give up boating is just that. Giving up! Woosing out. Failing! And if you have spent years planning this wonderful adventure and it didn't turn out, it's pretty hard to swallow. But you know what? At least you tried it. At least you left the dock. Life is too short to be unhappy just so you don't have to admit you were wrong. Or you can be like a lot of us. Just part-time losers and part-time boaters.
See you out there.

Smitten (How Our Boat Found Us)

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The Other Side of the Boat
SMITTEN

Let's back-up and start at the beginning...

Oh, the sweet, sweet joy of irrepressible, illogical love—whether it be for the “well-beyond-our reach” homecoming queen or the “well-beyond-our-funds”(and insurance capabilities) cherry-red sports car. We’ve all felt it. Reveled in it! We’ve all said, “To hell with the consequences!” andtaken the plunge. It seems like only yesterday…

It was on a crisp, bright autumn morning in Annapolis when across the boatyard I spotted a brawny, broad-shouldered brute of a boat. My heart tugged me and I tugged my husband Jeff across the yard and up the ladder. The exterior was craggy with experience-worn teak decks. Its noble bone structure personified toughness. But along with that bad boy exterior came a heart of gold, and this one was 18 carats. At the bottom of the companionway steps I took a look over my shoulder into the saloon. “This is the one!” I hollered up at my husband.
Always the voice of caution, he replied, “We’ll see.” And as if I were a headstrong teenager, the more words of caution and reasonable alternatives I heard, the more stubbornly enamored I became.

To really understand the dynamics of all this you have to understand the events that brought about this bonding of woman with boat. My husband and I had taken an active interest in sailing two years before our current boat hunt. This was extremely difficult, considering we lived in landlocked southwest Kansas, where the biggest body of water for 300 miles is the municipal swimming pool. After several charters, we decided to reconfigure our lives and spend more time on the water. But first we had to find “the boat.” At about 2,000 miles away, Annapolis was the closest shopping place and the October boat show was the queen of the sailboat malls.
Of course, before we headed east, we pinned down exactly what we wanted in a boat—strength being at the top of his list, beauty at the top of mine. And we made a solemn vow: We were only looking, not buying! As a woman who has come home too many times with too many shopping bags full after making the same vow, I should have known better.

During the show we climbed on and off of hundreds of boats. While he exclaimed over engine space, I compared leather to printed chintz and admired the decorative ferns. Every boat was beautiful in its own right, but not one called out to me. Finally a boat dealer at the show, having heard our requirements, steered us to a used boat that fit every one of them.
It did nothing for us! But, it was from the deck of this boat that I spotted my true love, a 1987 40-foot Tashiba. It was kind of like being set up on a blind date and falling for your date’s best friend.

I guess I should explain what my requirements for our future boat were. First and foremost, I had to have a scoop-end swim platform. We had chartered a boat once in the Caribbean that had only a short boarding ladder on the side, and I discovered the only way I was going to be able to haul myself out of the water and on to that boat in anything resembling a speedy (forget graceful) manner was if a hungry shark suddenly chose me as his mid-afternoon snack. Even then it was going to take an act of God. Other items on the wish list included a spacious aft cabin (with a queen-size berth) and a nice roomy cockpit in which to entertain all the new boat friends we would be making.

So how did this hunk of a boat with its decidedly round stern manage to turn my head. For the first time in days, when I ended my climb down the companionway I knew I was on a boat. The timeless woodwork and the heavy brass portholes told me so. Absent were the ferns and designer fabric I had thought so important, and in their place was the tried-and-true style of protective close-knit spaces and gracious curves. It just kept whispering, “I’ll take care of you.”
Meanwhile, up on deck, my husband was cautiously rejoicing with fingers tightly crossed, for the boat had everything he had dreamed of. A full keel, lots of weight, a cutter rig and that canoe end—everything he knew would protect us well during whatever cruising we decided to do.
Oh, I forgot to tell you—he was loaded, and I appreciate that in a male of any type. I’m talking about the boat now, not my husband. (Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know boats are traditionally female, but not this one.) The boat had been outfitted for extensive offshore cruising by a lawyer who took a two-year hiatus from work. He sailed around for two years and then put the boat and everything on it up for sale. The equipment included would have taken us years to purchase if we’d had to equip the boat ourselves. The guy had back-ups for his back-ups.

In order to finalize the deal, we hired a crusty old surveyor, who acted as though we were doing him a disservice by asking him to come survey our boat. He was truly confounded that we had come looking at the first boat and had ended up with this one. Dumb luck, I guess, and I know he would agree. He merely rolled his eyes when we talked of refinishing the teak deck (which we learned later had merely mellowed to a healthy gray and required no refinishing at all). He grumbled when we mentioned getting rid of all the unsightly bric-a-brac on the stern end (which turned out to be our wind generator mount and a steering system). But he just couldn’t control himself when we allowed as how we’d have to get rid of those ugly red sails. “Who would ever pick that color?” we asked. Slowly and patiently, gritting his teeth, he explained that “tanbark” was the traditional sail color. (I really wish I was making all this up.)
After, two days of the surveyor’s mutinous banging around on our hull and sniffing through lockers, we were finally ready to take the boat out for its sea trial. “I suppose you’ll want to get the sails up,” the surveyor inquired, obviously annoyed at the thought and hoping we would be too embarrassed to show anybody those “ugly red” sails. But we insisted, and he ended up grinning the whole time as the heavy boat heeled over smoothly and, to our amazement, made an easy seven knots.

Once again he scoffed at our naivete, “What did you expect? After all she’s a Bob Perry design.”

Whoever he is. We had no idea at the time.

Needless to say the boat passed the survey with flying colors and became ours. And two weeks later we sacrificed an already booked charter in the Caribbean to sail our new boat on the Chesapeake. We snagged our first crab pot, ran aground a couple of times, and the dinghy motor crapped out on us. We loved it so much we came back six months later and spent the next six months discovering the Bay. From Langford Creek where really big things (skates) went bump in the night, to Dobbins Island for our first thunderstorm and dragging, to Baltimore’s wonderful Inner Harbor to countless secluded anchorages and charming towns, we fell in love with the Bay while falling more in love with our boat.

Since then we have stretched our sea legs a little and have sailed as far north as Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket, where there is no such thing as a secluded anchorage and boaters have a really peculiar notion of anchoring. (“What do you mean I’m dragging in forty feet of water, I’ve got eighty feet of rode out!”) And we’ve gone as far south as Key West which is just plain peculiar and proud of it! And are currently exploring the Beautiful Bahamas. I’m happy to say the love affair lives on. My first impression of our boat has held true and he has loyally protected us from wind and wave and, more frequently, ourselves. And of course compromises and adjustments have had to be made along the way—as in any relationship. The captain bought me an extended ladder so I can exit the water gracefully should any hungry sharks come cruising, and we’ve always been able to make more room in the cockpit for new friends. Although a nice rear end with a scoop swim platform can still turn my head, I’m standing by my boat.

Next Blog: Back to The Rules: A little more practical way of picking your boat