Stranger in a Strange Land.

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Greetings Land Lubbers,

I promise this will be my last rant about the banana republic that is Trinidad, but only because we've left the island and they had their last chance to fuck with us. What follows are a few paragraph of the problems we had getting out the door, but from then on it is sailing reports through the Caribbean Seas and our exciting times in other exotic lands. Bear with me, I have to get this off my chest.

Well, the entire crew has arrived, but not without the typical T&T impositions we've come to know and love. Now if it seems that I'm harping on this poor country too much, I would suggest you reserve judgment until you've had to accomplish anything here. It isn't so much the fact that the entire country's infrastructure lacks any technology more recent than the invention of carbon paper, its that the population so willingly accepts and condones it. This is made all the more infuriating by a culture of corruption, regulation, taxation and bureaucracy. At every turn someone will demand that you tip them, fill out a form, pay a surcharge - all while limiting your efforts as much as possible.

On top of that, there is no consistency what so ever to these restrictions. For instance, suppose you want to buy an ice cream cone, but have only American money. Of the three stores located in the marina, all owned and run by the same management, one will gladly sell you the ice cream, take your money and give you change in the local currency. The second will refuse to accept your money and demand that you go to the money machine (which works only three out of any four times you use it) and the third will accept your dollars providing you fill out a form and provide copies of your passport. I'm not kidding.

Every organization has different rules for the same situation, and each time those rules can be altered according to the mood of the employee or official involved. When Mota arrived at customs, he was made to wait several hours because "he didn't have an advice". I showed up and gave them a duplicate copy of the same documents he had, which they then gladly accepted and then gave him the advice. This is what they were actually supposed to do in the first place. When Jeff arrived, they didn't care at all about "an advice" but needed proof that it was a sailing yacht. The fact that the vessel was being stored in a boat yard that only handles sailing yachts, or that it says sailing yacht on several of the documents including the US Coast Guard title didn't deter them from wasting our time.

Of course, when Mike & MaryAnn arrived, they didn't even look at their papers, and just waved them through, but when Jennifer arrived they demanded proof that I was the actual owner. Of course, she had several documents proving that already but it required my giving them exact same documents to free her from the nightmare that is T&T customs. No mention of having an "advice" or proving that it was a sailing yacht. And that is just at the airport. Once we finished there we had to go to the local port captains office and repeat the whole process again.

Oh, and the port captains demand bribes. If you happen to show up there with a piece of equipment in your hand, you will be told something like "Oh, I really like that, you should make a present of it to me." Now, you don't have to do that, you could refuse, but then any chance of getting the rest of your gear through without several more days of delays will mysteriously increase. To pour more salt in the wound, you can't leave T&T unless you have a special form from the port captain proving that your vessel has satisfied any outstanding claims from the various workers who you may owe money to. A reasonable enough system if it wasn't used as part of the money collecting shakedown scheme that is T&T customs & immigration.

I walked into Immigration at three thirty, thats the 2nd floor of the white building on the left. I was trying to get through fast enough to make Customs before the witching hour. Strangely, it took exactly thirty minutes to complete the transaction which in all other circumstances takes less than fifteen minutes.



I then went to Customs (the light blue building) and walked in at exactly one minute after four, only to be told I would have to pay a special late fee, and that because there was a typo on the letter from the boat yard (the extremely pretty but totally useless secretary at Aikanes filled in the wrong date on the form), I would also have to pay several hundred more dollars as well.

At this point I was so totally disgusted with the scam artists that pose as officials in this dirty, backward, corrupt country that I just laughed, and said "Of course, you need more money, I expected no less". The woman at customs then told me that "Since I was rich (remember, I owed a boat and she didn't, although after spending several weeks in her country I'm probably less solvent than her) I could afford to pay more than others".

I think that pretty much sums up the attitude of the country. If you are even perceived to have anything of value to them you are an automatic target. If they can rip you off, they will, at every opportunity. If they think they can shake you down, they will. If you want to get anything done, the cost will be whatever they can get away with. It is no surprise that so many people here are poor, or that so few are getting rich raping the country's economy. Rule of law, good governance and a good work ethic have never been established here, and the result is a real disappointment. If you had any plans of ever sailing here, I'd strongly suggest you come with everything you could ever possibly need, and expect to pay a lot for very, very little. But I'm not bitter.

So, we'd finally cleared customs and were all set to leave the country, when one of the alternators failed. I brought it to the local marina's shop called Dockside Electric, where Sherman (not his real name, I just think it reflects his myopic attitude) assured me that if I got it to him by 9am, he could have it rebuilt by 2pm. I dropped it off in time, but having learned some of the ways of this country, I went back at noon to check on things.

Sherman said "Oh, the alternator guy is out to lunch (lunch starts around 11:30 and goes until 3:00) but will work on it as soon as possible." Okay, I come back at 2pm, only to be told that there is another job that is delaying things and it won't be ready until tomorrow. I ask to speak with the manager, who then explains that there is a ship coming in soon, and they need at least four mechanics to work on the ship, and there was never any chance of the alternator being repaired until next week at the earliest.

When I explain that his salesman promised it today, he just shrugs and says "Well, I told him that this morning. He knew we weren't going to be able to fix your alternator.". No apology, no attempt to find another shop, just a "We know you need us, we don't care how long we delay you, you probably don't know anyone on the island that can help, so you're fucked unless you want to pay three times as much for it" accompanied by the T&T smile. This is their way of doing biz.

The American way of doing biz is to explain carefully and calmly to the owner that I contribute regularly to several different sailing news groups with tens of thousands of readers, and that I will make it my top priority to explain just what any other cruisers can expect from his shop, and took my alternator with me. I then spent a few more hours going around the port until I found someone who can work on it, will do it the same day and will get it right.

By the way, while I was waiting at the counter for Sherman, a customer in front of me complained of basically the same thing. He was promised a part, then left hanging - for three weeks. He was furious, and I don't blame him. What's worse, I spoke with several other cruisers that complained of delays, hassles, mistakes and the like from them. There seemed to be an even higher incidence for anyone who happened to have their vessel moored at the very expensive docks at Crew's Inn.

So, I got in my dingy and motored over to the over side of the bay and began searching for a decent mechanic. I found one within an hour. The folks at Caribbean Marine Electric not only rebuilt both my alternators, they came to the boat, installed new voltage regulators and batteries (for about half of what Dockside was asking) and the work was done right - but they weren't owned by locals so their work ethic hadn't completely faded yet. They did a great job, even working overtime before the big holiday weekend started - a thing unheard of in this country.

We had one minor problem when the alternators didn't seem to be working afterwards, but we realized it was a load balancing issue and that they were behaving appropriately. Of course, this is only after we spend a few dollars more, and it took another day to leave, but hey, its Trinidad, where the motto is "Come here, give us your money, wait, and leave unhappy". And an accurate motto it is.

Okay, rant off. Did I mention that Trinidad sucks? Oh, sorry, stop me if I repeat myself.

We had moved the boat from the dock yard to the marina a while back, which is the fanciest place in the entire island. We are surrounded by mega yachts, tricked out power boats, and all number of high end vessels. At least we were the only catamaran on the dock, which made pointing out our boat to others easier. Then another boat pulled in to the dock just ahead of us.

It was a brand new 50' St. Francis sailing cat with all the toys and gizmo's you'd expect on a mega yacht. It had just crossed the Atlantic, having started from Cape Town, South Africa thirty days ago. On board were the delivery captain, the owner, and a crew of three other guys. On the aft deck awning was a three foot high satellite dome. "Hey Robb, how come we don't have one of those?" was the first question I got. "Yeah, but we got woman crew, which would you rather have out at sea, TV or live, naked girls?" was my answer.

After securing the boat, the first thing they did was take out a brand new stainless steel grill large enough you could barbecue a cow on. Then they turned on their 54" LCD screen and started watching "Girls Gone Wild". Then they turned on their air conditioner and put their clothes in the on board washer/dryer. And made cool drinks using their ice maker. Realizing that they were ruining my crew's morale, we decided to try to trade Jennifer for the ice maker and the LCD screen. They refused. I'm not sure what that says, but apparently cool drinks and video is worth more that a cute blond. They did offer to take her with them (several times) but we always held out for more appliances then they were willing to trade.

We've since gotten to hang out with them a bit. We all ended up eating at the same barbecue shack the other night. At one point, one of their crew leaned over to us, pointed to another crew member and whispered "See that guy, he fell over board when we were crossing the Atlantic. We didn't realize he was missing for ten minutes, then we took another ten minutes to go back and find him. He was treading water in the Atlantic Ocean for twenty minutes wearing only a Tshirt and shorts." We looked over at him. He was drinking quite heavily. We never saw him sober for the rest of the week we were there. I don't blame him.

We finally fixed our mechanical problems, got the boat ready and left the suck hole that is Chaguaramas and have hit the high seas. The boat is handling well, we've had at least twenty knots of wind on our stern and following seas between six and eight feet. We were concerned the first night out about getting hit by pirates (there have been several incidents of this coming out of Venezuela) but our worries were for naught. We left T&T and decided that instead of taking a straight shot to Panama we'd go to Aruba instead. It is one of the three islands just north of Venezuela that make up "The ABC's", the other two being Bon Aire and Coresao. These are all beautiful islands and I wish we could spend more time exploring them. As it is we'll only spend a night in Aruba, where AnnMarie will fly in and join us for the trip to the canal.

Piloting the boat has been a breeze, especially with the auto-pilot, but getting the main sail up and down is a bit of a chore. Invariably we get soaked. I was up there in just my underwear when I huge wave soaked us. I took them off and threw them back into the cockpit, and vowed never to go up to the mast wearing clothes again. They only get wet and take too long to dry. The crew have been amazing, hard working, fun and very diligent about keeping good logs, a vigilant lookout and steering the boat safely.

I've been trying to instill good habits in them, one of which is to not leave stuff lying around. It may seem like a small issue, but it matters. The other night I needed to climb up on the coaming and ended up stepping on a sandwich some left out.I got mad and threw it overboard. The next morning I was asked if I'd seen my underwear about the boat. Everyone was grinning. I looked up and saw them flying on the mast spreader, with the letters FKO bleached into them. What comes around goes around.

So, we've had pretty good luck with mechanical issues, except for our freezer. There appears to be something wrong with the condenser unit, which isn't something I'd let anyone in Chaguaramas touch, so we have only a small fridge to cool things down. We've divided the freezer into two sections, one we've packed with ice, the other food. It won't keep ice cream from melting, but it is good enough for most stuff. Well, almost. Mike bought some shrimp which went bad. If you've never smelled bad shrimp, be glad. We ended up having to completely empty it, wash everything down with bleach and vinegar and baking soda several times.

From now on, we don't buy fish, we only catch it, which means we don't eat a lot of fish. Apparently Mota has some weird anti-fish curse placed upon him (he has never ever caught a fish) which seems to extend to the rest of the boat. We've been trolling various lures for several days and have yet to get even a single bite. Very odd. We have managed to capture over fifty flying fish. Apparently some internal death wish makes them jump up onto our deck. It scared the shit out of some of the crew the other night.

Sailing long passages across the ocean may seem romantic or fun or exciting, but truth be told, it is mostly boring.The first day out you feel a little nauseous, are tired and a bit disoriented. It gets better over time, but not much gets done or happens. The high light of the adventure so far was putting Mota in his rainbow outfit, rigging him up to an up-haul off the mast, and suspending him in front of the dolphin striker (the upright triangle that juts out of the cross beam at the very front of the boat) so that he could be "On Top Of The World" and a butterfly all at the same time. No doubt this will be a Utube video shortly.

We've had a number of dolphins swim along side us. These appear to be "Spinning Dolphins" because they leap out of the sea, spinning, then crash back in. They travel in large packs, several hundred sometimes. They are beautiful, sleek and powerful animals. You can't help but think that they want you to come play with them. When they saw Mota, they swam away. We never saw them again, but Jeff thought he heard one of them say something about "weirdos from the West Coast", whatever that means. We're having fun, none the less!

Other than that, we continue on to Aruba, we will pick AMP up and head for Panama. We heard from the canal agent there, they say there is a three week wait. Not sure what that means yet.

Hope all is well with you and look forward to seeing everyone again.

Cheers,

Robb


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T Minus One And Counting.

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So, things proceed apace with the boat, but I'm exhausted each night when I collapse into bed. I'd like to have been better about writing more of what happens each day, but when I think about it I begin to tremble and I need to go sit down somewhere quiet. What follows is a quick summary on the experiences I've had since I last wrote about doing business in Trinidad, or as I call it "Sticking my head up my ass to get a better view of my navel." I'm pictured here, out of sheer desperation and frustration, trying to pull my brains out through my nostrils.





In case anyone was worried that Soviet style bureaucracy had faded away with the fall of the Berlin wall, take heart, and know that you are only a short plane ride away from some of the most delightful aspects of the tax authorities of the late Byzantine administration, with features you haven't seen since the East German phone company collapsed.

When I arrived I was unable to get onto the boat (see previous email) so I booked a hotel room at the local swank marina for the first two days before moving onto Triton, which is "up on the hard" (thats sailor speak for up on blocks on the land) at a local boat yard about 1/2 mile away. The boat yard is called "Aikane's", which adds to an odd series of naming coincidences there: the boat was made by Robertson & Caine, my dad's name is also Robert Kane making me "Robert's son", and the yard is called "Aikanes", which is French for "We Have Your Money, Now Go Home".

The boat yard specializes only in catamarans, they build, refurbish and store them and have been in business for years. It is run by a very tall, very thin, French ex patriot named Philip who looks as if he has a couple of extra elbows and knees. His accent is that delightful French cadence that is wonderful to listen to even if what he is telling you means its costing you more money. I think this must be a job requirement. Probably an American yard owner couldn't express such constant bad news without some yachtie caving in their skull with an oar. After having dealt with him for six months, first in person, then on the phone, then via email, and at times via faxes, I'm glad to report just how great a job he had done. Everything he has told me to expect has been spot on (which has mostly been "It will take longer than is at all reasonable", "It will cost more than you think it should", "You can't get that part here" and "That can't be done here, you would need to go to the US or Europe to make that happen". What work his company has done (mostly minor maintenance and winterizing the boat), however, has been excellent and his construction staff are very, very skilled, efficient, knowledgeable and courteous. I think they might be violating Trinidad's laws by being so, but I'm grateful for it. The one hiccup I've had with the yard has been communication through the front office. The secretary leaves something to be desired - more on that later.

I was a bit worried on Monday when I first got to the yard. The small part in the back of your mind that always imagines the worst (and there is a lot than can go wrong where boats are concerned) was having a field day. When I arrived I discovered that not only was my boat still there, it hadn't burned down, wasn't vandalized, or being lived in by gypsies. Philip and his crew not only kept it air conditioned as they had promised, but they discovered a few leaks in the large salon windows, and a leak in the port head hatch. As I was flying into Trinidad, thinking about all the things that could go wrong, I remembered that I had wanted to put a tarp over everything before I left, but ran out of time and forgot about it in the bustle before leaving.

Without asking them to do so, they covered the leaking hatches with tarps and checked up on them regularly. In fact, much to my amazement, the boat had been maintained quite well, despite the God awful humidity and heat that is Trinidad. There was some mildew in the forward cabins and heads, which required only wiping down with mild bleach. Oh, and a number of pillows got moldy. This was actually kind of funny given that I had gone to such great measures to seal them in giant Ziplock bags, sucking out all the air, and packing them with desiccants. There were several other bags of sheets, blankets, etc. that I'd done very little to protect, yet they resisted the urge to go over to the dark side. I'm not sure what it is about pillows that make them so susceptible. Perhaps they haven't learned the Jedi mind trick yet.

So, as I mentioned, I'd arrived in Chaguaramas relatively crash free, the boat was intact, I had found a hotel for a few days, life was starting to look good. Then began my indoctrination into the culture of the islands. No, let me rephrase that: The Culture Of The Islands, Yah Man, Please Wait Over There And We'll Ignore You. Let me explain: So, imagine you wanted to buy a cheap folding chair. What would you do? Well, first off, you'd probably already have three dozen ratty folding chairs in your garage (see, you are well on your way to becoming a sailor already) but if you were really lazy you'd just grab one the next time you were at Safeway and probably pay $1.87 more than if you shopped around. They would either be propped up by the cash register, or in the isle they reserve for season stuff like Halloween costumes or July 4th picnic supplies. If not, then you'd find them on top of the food isles, next to the coolers with all that odd wicker furniture.

But, lets say the Safeway union cashiers are on strike, and because you once had a part time job stocking shelves for UPS and are still technically a union member, you don't want to cross the picket lines. Well, then you'd probably go to a hardware store, or Target, or Home Depot, or if you really wanted something over-designed to death, Ikea. You might even check the Internet, find exactly the brand you wanted, compare prices, then order it and have it delivered to your door exactly at the time the shipping company said it would.

Well, forget all that. You in the third world now chum. Pretend you never heard of customer service, inventory on hand, back stock, work ethic, scheduling or price competition. In Trinidad, if it isn't on the shelf in front of you, don't even think about getting it soon. Most likely what you want isn't going to be in stock. And even if it was in stock somewhere, you'd have to find an employee willing to actually get it for you. It is a little know law that all Trinidadian workers are allowed to perform only one complete and satisfactory customer transaction per day. If you happen to be second in line, they are required, by law, to fuck with you. Ah, I hear you say "Oh, come on now, Robb, it isn't that bad" to which I reply HAH! Come down here and try to buy a Ricoh Diesel Filter port O-Ring to 3/8" brass compression fitting in under three days! BTW, you are probably saying, well yeah, that might take three days here as well. Yes, that might be true, but only if it didn't actually exist anywhere in the state and had to be shipped in. In reality, there are at least twenty stores within a radius of as many miles that could supply it - I know because I needed one before I left but didn't have the forty five minutes of time to run to the store to buy it. Oh how I regret that decision.

"Okay", you ask, "so why don't you just ship everything you need?" Oh ho what fun! I had AnnMarie do just that. I needed a piece of equipment to finish installing the radio. She shipped it to me on Monday. On Tuesday I got a note from DHL saying my package had arrived, but was at the airport, a two hour drive away. "No way, the airport is only twenty miles away! It can't take that long" you reply. Well, in a country of 1.2 million people, there are 600,000 cars and seven roads, all built during the dark ages and maintained by those employees that were fired from Cal Trans for ineptitude. Try to imagine just how inept you'd need to be to get fired from Cal Trans. Double it, and you have the minister of road work for Trinidad. He's the most talented person in his organization, and he's probably not actually on the island most days because he works from home in LA were the traffic isn't as bad.

We now return to you to our regularly scheduled rant. So, I'm told by the yard that a DHL notice has arrived, and my package is at the airport. But it isn't supposed to be at the airport, its supposed to be here at the port captain's office in the Customs Depot. That is the entire reason for using the more expensive shipping companies in the first place - they will deliver it to you within some reasonable time frame. I patiently explain this to the sweet, kind, polite imbecile at DHL, who assured me that "No, you must come to the airport, there was a problem with your package and we can not deliver it." So, I drive through two hours of traffic and get to the airport, where the sweet, kind, polite manager explains that "No, actually, we sent it to the port after we spoke with you". Why didn't you call me? You had my phone number, you knew I was slogging my way through traffic. You figured this out almost immediately after we spoke. How much effort would it have been to follow through?

That is the crux of the third world attitude. We might, if at home, scream and yell about customer service so inconsiderate. We'd tell all our friends, and complain to the company. Down here, there is no one to complain to, no one can ever be fired for incompetence, and there is no expectation that anyone will ever do anything but the minimum required effort. Ah dear reader, I see your expression, hold that thought. Okay, simple mistake, it could have happened to anyone, right? No reason to get upset - just an unusual mix up, right? Wrong. This is the standard business model. I've spoken to over twenty other cruisers down here, at least twice as many locals, and numerous business owners, and every single one of them has five, ten, twenty or more examples of this kind of experience. It has all happened to them, and they're locals. Fine, its the islands, deal with it.

I drive to the port captain's office. It is a room about ten by twenty, located right next to the docks, and painted at least once since the Spaniards first came to the islands. There are four desks and a counter. Each desk is manned by a Customs Chief Inspector General Manager Director, [all Trinidad Customs officials have this title - its like calling the janitor the Senior Vice President Of Sanitary Conformation] who are all either sleeping, reading a newspaper or playing Sudoku on the computer. I walk up to the counter and wait for the Customs Chief Inspector General Manager Director to finish reading the Daily Star Globe's article about "Why Brad Might Be Gay". I stand politely at the counter, about two feet away from her, waiting for any acknowledgment that I'm there, which takes about five minutes, speed reading not being a required skill for a Customs Chief Inspector General Manager Director.

Eventually, she looks up and says "Ya?" with as much "why are you interrupting my day?" attitude as one could jam into those two letters. I explain that I've received word from DHL, and that I'm here to pick up the package. She doesn't even respond, she just points to one of the other Customs Chief Inspector General Manager Directors and nods. I walk over to his desk. He was not four feet away from the prior conversation and was watching and listening to the entire exchange. He looks at me for a while without saying a word. Eventually, it becomes apparent he isn't going to say anything. I say "Excuse me, but are you the person I should see about picking up a package?" Long pause, no response. Perhaps he's deaf, I think - it wouldn't surprise me at all if he was. After a minute of just staring at me, he says "And what is it you want?" Every bone in my body wants to scream out "Oh, nothing, I just fought my way through four hours of traffic to find out what your job is, thank you so much for confirming that for me". But I don't. In the islands, sarcasm only delays the process of fucking with you.

Thinking that perhaps the lack of sleep has started to affect my ability to perceive reality, I repeat that DHL has delivered a package, that, yes, I'm here to pick up that package. "Boat name?" he asks, I tell him. He looks in a very, very large ledger book where each column and heading has been drawn in by hand. Now, this form hasn't changed in about three hundred years, but they are still drawing the column separators in by hand using a ruler. The thought of having it printed by a professional printer is beyond the scope of their training, and would also reduce the justification for having four members on staff at all times. There are maybe ten boats that come through here a day. Maybe. yet you will always wait at least a few minutes (regardless of whether there is anyone else in the Customs building) before you will be allowed to speak to someone.

Well, he looks up in his ledger and finds my entry. "Okay, that will be one hundred and thirty seven dollars" he says. I explain that this is a "boat in transit" and there isn't supposed to be a duty or import tax. He says there isn't, but it is 12:57 and there is a service charge for picking up packages during their lunch hour, which occurs between noon and one. I look at the clock. "How much will it be if I stand here and wait three minutes?" I ask. "Oh, then it will be free." he says without any trace of irony, humor or spite. There is a long moment where we just look at each other. I nod. We continue to stand there for three more minutes, just looking at each other. Try to imagine this. Just for grins, ask a coworker to participate in an experiment. Tell them it will take exactly three minutes of thier time, that they should look at you without looking away for three minutes. See if you can do it. It was a surreal experience, just standing there starring at him. Go ahead, try it sometime.

So we stood there starring at each other, motionless, while the rest of the Customs Chief Inspector General Manager Directors read the newspaper, played computer games, and snored. Slowly, painfully, the clock struck one. He then shrugs, gets ups, and hands me my package. I leave. I would not be sure if I hadn't just hallucinated the entire experience due to lack of sleep were it not for the numerous testimonials of others, as well as the abundance of similar experiences I've had myself at Customs since then.

So, I go back to the boat and continue to work on getting it ready for a Monday launch into the water. Philip is concerned about the tides and weather, and suggests that we launch on Friday instead. Okay, that means cramming three days worth of work into one, but I'd rather avoid an unnecessary risk, and getting the boat into the water sooner is better. I ask AnnMarie to please take off work to handle the final invoice payment which requires going to the bank to do a wire funds transfer. She does, and sends a follow up email with the details. I continue to work all day, and at 5am this morning I had everything ready for launch. The yard crew doesn't start until six, I'm unbelievably exhausted, but I figure that the crew will wake me up when they arrive (they've done so every morning for the last week - showing up at dawn and then banging away around my boat), so I put my head down for a quick and much needed nap.

I wake up at 9am, still on land. I go find Philip who tells me that since they never received the documentation of the wire funds transfer they didn't put the boat in, and it will have to wait until Monday. Don't even think about getting anything done on a Saturday or, God forbid, a Sunday. I ask him why he didn't just wake me up and ask? He shrugs, says Karen, his secretary never got the fax so he assumed it hadn't happened. We go up to his office, I call Ann, she refaxes the documents while Philip looks in Karen's in box. There is the letter - she just didn't bother opening it up yesterday or mentioning that anything had gone amiss, and the fact that the fax was lost or never arrived didn't seem to mean anything to her. So what if I'm paying for slip fees and it means more charge to me. Shrug. No worries man. Its not like anyone would ever get fired for doing the minimum.

So, that is how things have been. If you want to get something done, expect to do it yourself. If you need anything, expect to "manage" it every step of the way, and expect that everything you are told is wrong. Oh, and expect to pay about thirty percent more for that privilege. Its funny for me, having been deeply involved in so many fast paced, highly efficient startup companies. Had the dot com boom started down here instead, we'd all still be working trying to get email working and wondering if graphics were possible. Welcome to Trinidad. I hope you aren't in any hurry.


Cheers,

Robb

p.s. Firearms are strictly prohibited in this country. At first I thought it was because they were worried about criminals having easy access to guns. Then I realized that their real concern is a population capable of expressing their dissatisfaction with the bureaucracy and red tape that passes for civil service. Any reasonably well armed society would have shot every customer service rep and government official by now. But I'm not bitter.



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The Future Looks Soggy, If Not Bright.

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Greetings,

Well, Mota arrived on Sunday. I drove to the airport to pick him up. My neighbors in the boat yard, a lovely German couple named Magrit and Wolfgang, who had built their own catamaran from scratch and who have lived in Trinidad for the last few years gave me excellent advice about how long the ten mile trip to the airport might take. Two hours. "But wait," I said, "if the airport is only ten miles away, and I'm driving most of it on highway, why should it take that long. Wolfgang just smiled and said "Oh, it shouldn't, but it always does".

So, I left at 6:30 to pick him up, assuming his flight would arrive at 8pm. When I turned left onto the little two lane road that leads to the highway I found myself in bumper to bumper traffic. No worries, I've still got lots of time, I thought. Well, I was right, but for all the wrong reasons. The trip to the airport took two hours. I drove 1 mile per hour for half of it. Apparently one side of the road had collapsed. It is the "Western Main Road" a two lane path which connects Chaguaramas with the capital, Port of Spain. Now if this had occurred in the states, there would be several local cops on scene directing traffic, a few fire trucks and at least three news helicopters circling overhead. In Trinidad there were only cars trying to squeeze by each other.

When I reached the point where the problem occurred, I could see another line of traffic from the other direction stretching just as far back. As each driver would reach the choke point they'd attempt to fight their way through the oncoming traffic. In Trinidad this meant a very bizarre, slow motion game of chicken. Once one line of traffic started flowing, the other side would have to fight their way into the flow and get a few cars through. Then the other direction would fight back. The net result being that the least possible number of vehicles passed the choke point.

After much gnashing of teeth I made it through, and then drove on towards the airport. I say "towards" because I didn't actually drive to the airport. I got lost. Now, considering that I only had to follow a single road there, you might think this was somehow foolish of me. Well, I need to explain about Trinidad's roadways. In California, any major highway would be marked with their numbers, and any time you reached a junction, there would be signs explaining which way to go to remain on that highway. In Trinidad, everyone already knows this, so there is no need for signs or any indication explaining that the major road you are on actually veers off to the left onto that smaller street, ducking under and away from the road you've been on, which continues to be a major highway for about 1 more mile. Then it dumps you into the heart of Port of Spain, which makes Boston look like a street planner's wet dream.

If you've ever been lost in a foreign city (or even a local one) there is only one thing to do: stop and ask. If you are in Trinidad, make sure you ask at least seven times. If any two of the answers you receive agree, there is a fifty fifty chance that it will lead you in the direction you need to go. After driving through several tiny, one way streets lined with vendors selling things out of cars and pedestrians walking through the traffic to buy them, I managed to get onto a major road. I stopped and asked a local how to get to the airport. He said "Oh, dats eeesa man, ja goo to da chickan, den left ann jha deer". Smiling politely, I drove off, looking for a chicken. A few blocks later I found a Colonel Sanders. In Trinidad there are more Kentucky Fried Chicken franchises than there are gas stations.I turned left. I then asked another person who explained that if I stayed on this road, it would merge back into the Western Main road. I would only need to drive a few more miles to get to the airport.

Realizing that I was seriously running late I raced on to the airport. When I arrived I discovered that Mota's flight was delayed. So I waited. And waited. And waited. No Mota. Since you can't go inside of customs/immigration at the airport all I could do is stand outside the doors and peer in as other passengers exited. Eventually I saw him. He explained that he had been held up because he didn't have the right paper work. Apparently the customs officials wanted proof that the boat was mine. I was allowed inside to provide it (which was no different then what he had) and we were allowed to leave, being told by the customs folks at the airport to go straight to the port to check in. We went back Chaguaramas and checked through customs there as well.

The customs agents in Trinidad are hand picked. They find those special people who can turn whatever small amount of authority they have into a means of fucking with everyone around them. Usually this type of person gravitates to positions within a bureaucracy where they can prevent pretty much anything from actually getting done. Every customs agent I dealt with was like this, with one exception, but he demanded a bribe. So, we showed the agent our paper work, which he stamped, then charged us for arriving after hours. This is a special trick they like to play in Trinidad. Customs is open 24 hours a day, providing you are willing to pay a charge if you show up before 8am or after 4pm or during lunch hour.

We went back to the boat and crashed. The next morning the boat yard workmen woke us up to begin the process of putting Triton back into the water. This is accomplished by way of a large trailer like device that is pushed underneath the center of the boat, which lifts it up. The trailer is then pulled out of the yard and across the street, and eventually down a boat ramp, by a tractor. The kind you'd expect for harvesting corn or something. It was a bit surreal. The interesting part was getting across the street. It requires a police officer from the local coast guard base, who gets paid about $50.00 US for stopping traffic. I thought this was just another Trinidad scam, but it was the one time it turned out to be a justified expense.

A Trinidadian does nothing quickly. Just buying a soda can take all afternoon - but that's only if it is in stock and you happen to have the exact change and a cricket match they're interested in isn't on the TV. There is no way to make them go fast, except, if you put them behind the wheel of a automobile. Then, their latent need for speed springs forth. They drive like maniacs. The worst are the MaxiTaxis (minivans with several people hanging out the windows) that specialize in passing cars on blind curves. I've seen them over take a long line of trucks with on-coming traffic. They live on an island the size of Berkeley, and they drive as if they lived in Montana and they will not slow down or stop for anything or anyone.

If you want to push a 45' catamaran across the main highway, the only way to do this is with an armed militia.The official stood in the highway wearing a very prominent sidearm and a look that said "I will shoot you if you don't stop". Traffic obeyed, and we pushed the boat into the water. Below is a picture of another catamaran that went into the water a few days before us. The owner of Aikane's, Philip, is the tall man facing back at the camera to the left. You can see the trailer and various workmen floating the boat back into the harbor.

Mota & I motored Triton over to the main harbor, just a few minutes away, and docked at Crews Inn, the Trinidadian version of a 5 star hotel and marina. You can just see Triton on the left in this photo, and the restuarant and in the background, on the second floor. The hotel is directly to the right, out of frame.

It was posh. There was a pool, the restaurant really was very nice, a pretty decent coffee shop and a 7-11 type minimart. Everything you could possibly need, providing you were willing to pay twice what it was worth.

The other thing worth mentioning is the woman. Trinidad is the tropical island version of Iceland. Almost every woman here is beautiful. Really beautiful. It is sometimes surprising how much so. There must be something in the water. None the less, every time we went to a store, or got something to eat, or had to deal with the officials, there would be some stunning beauty on the other side of the counter. I'm looking into the rules around showing up at another country with a waitress stowed in your locker. If customs in Panama is anything like Trinidad the paper work, bribery and smiling through your teeth probably isn't worth the effort.

So, we'd made the first step in our journey to Panama. The boat was in the water, I am only about a week behind schedule and there were only a few hundred small things to accomplish before we could set sail. I'm beginning to think I might actually make it to the canal.

The future looks soggy, if not bright.


Robb


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Greatings From Asbury Park.

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Ahoy, Ahoy,

Greetings from sunny, humid, windy, rainy, dry, calm Trinidad.But wait you say, how can it be all those things at once? Simple. Weather potpourri. In any one day it can be any of a dozen climates, including a condition where the clouds, during an otherwise blazingly hot, bright day, will actually hide behind the hill top waiting for you to begin painting. They will then rush out and try their hardest to rain onto every exposed tool and into every open hatch. Once they realize you've covered up or closed every hatch, they rush off to sneak up on the next unsuspecting boat worker behind the next hill.
So, I arrived here last week and was promptly told to leave the country. Well, actually, I was asked by the nice British sounding lady at Trinidad Immigrations if I had "my letter". "What letter?" I inquired. "The letter from the port captain allowing you back into the country" she said, with that look and tone you use for retarded children and people in old age homes. "Um, well, um, no, I never got any letter" I told her. There was a long pause were she was clearly trying to assess whether I was very young looking geriatric, or simply a very mature child with Downs Syndrome. "I'm sorry dear, but without a letter saying you're coming back, we can't let you into the country. Please go sit on that bench over there" she said, probably assuming I was both mentally handicapped and senile (okay, so she was right about that, so what, it was a lucky guess).

I knew that if I went over to the Group W bench I was going to be stuck in the airport for a long time, if not be sent back, so I started frantically digging around and found a photocopy of an old letter between myself and the boat yard describing my itinerary, when I'd be back, etc., signed by the yard owner. I handed it to her, smiled and said, "Oh, this is from the yard, he said he'd be sending it along but I never got anything". I grinned my best "please let me slide by, I'm just an American moron (which, for most islanders, is probably redundant)" grin and within minutes I had a stamped passport. I was also told I needed to check in with customs in Chaguaramas (where the boat awaits me) and was then standing in front of the next nice lady at Trinidad Customs.

Now, if you want to come in to Trinidad, and you happen to be carrying several thousands of dollars of brand new boat gear in three FUCKING HUGE AND HEAVY suitcases, and the only other thing you have on your person is a laptop computer and three pair of black boxer shorts (they were on sale) don't open that first as they will look at you kind of funny. The nice woman at customs had a much different flavor to her speech. "Wats ol dis?" she said, looking at my underwear like I'd just exposed a bug by uncovering a rock. "Um, I'm sorry?" I replied, being completely unable to grasp the accent. It was only much later that I learned that this is actually an English speaking country. "Watchu gots der, chial?" Giving my now type casted infirm idiot performance I said "Do you want to inspect my luggage?" There was a pause, she shook her head in disgust and said, "Nohi dunt wanna beh lookin ender, ya needs to getcha ta de part captan, new stops foya". Nodding like I had even the slightest idea what she was saying I dragged my luggage out of the terminal and went looking for the taxi I'd arranged to have pick me up.

Which wasn't there. This really sucked, as I had gone to great efforts to arrange someone to pick me up at the airport, asking the office manager of the boat yard to confirm this for me. She had assured me that everything was on track and my ride would be there - this was only the beginning of a long series of disappointments to come from her. So, unless someone was intending on taking me via a flatbed truck with gardening equipment on top, there was no other vehicle within site, and no one holding a sign saying "Robb Triton" or even "Retarded American".

There are quite a few things in my life that scare me. I am not a courageous person, nor a coward, but I do have some quite rational fears. For instance, I'm afraid of IRS agents in any form, any police officer that walks up smiling at me, ex-wives with sharp knives who've been drinking tequila, and anytime a lover asks if I missed them. These are all things I have learned are very, very dangerous situations and should be handled with the utmost caution.

Then, there are things I fear for no good cause, which has been the cause of much embarrassment. Things like Realtors in blazers, making flight arrangements via the Internet, house cleaning of any kind, and being in any foreign airport (i.e. not Oakland International) without AnnMarie holding my hand, a personal guide who lives in the area, and Sherpas to carry my luggage. So, now faced with one of my worst fears come true, I was going to have to figure out how to get from the airport, to the port city, which was a staggering twenty five miles away, in an English speaking country, armed with only a thousand dollars in cash, several credit cards, a valid drivers license and my well honed ability to convince anyone to take pity on this poor retarded boy.

Thinking quickly, I asked the porter if there were any car rental agencies. After a few minutes of grunts, clicks and gesturing I managed to communicate to the person behind the counter my need for a vehicle, who explained that due to the current World Championship Cricket match, there were no cars available for the next three hundred years - which is apparently the length of a typical Cricket tournament. I was downtrodden, but did not give up the fight. My next stroke of genius was to ask a taxi driver for a ride. "How much will it cost?" I asked. "Wahyawannaga?" he said. Long pause, drool starts to form at my lower lip. "Chaguaramas?" I say, nodding profusely with and pointing at myself and my luggage. "No problem man". This might have been the only intelligible sentence he uttered that I actually understood without post processing.

We got in the car (well, actually, he watched while I dragged my gear and loaded it into his car) and we sped off for the port. "Yaha foda Crrrricket?" he asked. I thought I recognized the word cricket. "No, no, I'm here to sail a boat. I actually didn't know there was a match going on when I booked my flight (well, actually when AnnMarie booked my flights, having avoided yet another irrational fear) but to be honest, I don't even know how to play the game." Now, when I'd listed my earlier "rational" fears, I forgot to mention having the complete International Cricket rules explained to me while being driven by a chain smoking Trinidadian cab driver who believed that eye contact was important when speaking with his passengers, even if it meant turning completely around to look at the folks sitting behind him, even if this occurred while passing between oncoming trucks in their lane or forcing pedestrians to jump to safely while driving up on the sidewalk to avoid a double parked car. I'm not sure what they do to you if your taxi driver kills someone while you are in his cab, but I came very close to finding out. We arrived at the port, went straight to the customs agent, I got out, kissed the ground, then dragged all the gear into the customs agent.

This time the former East German boarder guard at the Customs agency wanted to go through every item. I had to explain what each piece was as if he'd never seen anything made before the thirteenth century. Anything that wasn't made out of a solid piece of wood, or had knobs, or was shiny seemed to completely mystify him. What was worse was the bizarre attitude he exhibitted, as if wanting to bring actual boat parts into the country famed for sailing ports was a novel if not suspect activity. He made me open all the suitcases, and layout everything, then he wandered around it all, kicking things with his toe and cocking his head as if to say "What, you think I'm going to believe that this fairlead is actually a boating part?"

I'd explain what various bits were, and he'd look at me like I was some kind of idiot trying to convince him of such nonsense. "Whasdat?" he'd say, pointing to a radio. "Its a SSB radio?" I'd say, wondering if this is the right answer. "ondat?" he'd ask, pointing at a roll of copper foil. "Copper foil?" I'd ask. He'd look at me and nod, as if he was putting up with my feeble answers. Eventually he got to the underwear. "Janeed disfo deboot?" he asked. "Um, no, um, I wear it" I said. "Whai tree?" he asked. "Um, um, um, I don't know?" I said, realizing that this might work as a possible answer. He shook his head, looked at me sadly, nodded over at one of his coworkers as if to say "Sad the way the Americans don't take care of their handicapped" and stamped my papers.

I repacked everything as quickly as I could, dragged it all back into the car, and resumed my cricket lesson on the way back to the yard. Two minutes and one life threatening near crash later we arrived at the yard which was closed. The guard wouldn't let me in without my papers. I showed him those that worked for immigration but he insisted that those weren't the right papers. Its nice to know that there is still some place with former Division of Motor Vehicle workers can get a job. No matter how much I explained that 1) it was my boat right there, 2) I was really tired and needed to sleep, and 3) I had FUCKING U.S. COAST GUARD DOCUMENTATION proving it was my boat, I couldn't convince him that I belonged on my boat.

It was Sunday night, I hadn't slept in two days, and smelled like a goat. They say that heroic acts of bravery are usually performed by people simply too hungry, tired or scared to care. It was certainly the case for me when I got back in that taxi and asked to be taken to a hotel. "Oh, and can you explain again what a sticky wicket means?" I said, throwing all caution to the wind.

That's all for now. Hope all is well with everyone else.

Cheers.

Robb

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Update Status Message To Crew.

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Editor's Note: This isn't very interesting, but thought you might like to see the kind of issues and correspondence that took place between the captain and crew. The real challenge of sailing is not the actual sailing, its getting everything to the boat you need in the first place. To quote General Patton, "Strategy and Tactics don't win wars...Logistics wins wars." Well, by the time this was over we'd have liked to have seen him attack Trinidad, but we'll leave that to your judgement.



Ahoy Ahoy,

Sorry, this is long but I'm sending it from the local internet shop so i figure I should give everyone as much info as I have to date.

I trust everyone is well and looking forward to our trip. I arrived on Sunday, couldn't get into the yard (it was closed) so I booked a room at the Crews Inn for a night. I was pretty exhausted on Sunday night (I'd been averaging 3 hours of sleep a night) so most of the next day was spent either sleeping late or working on setting up a Skype or HF Radio communications link with AnnMarie.


Unfortuntely, her laptop crashed during this process (she unknowingly accepted an update from Microsoft - curse you Bill Gates) which crashed her machine, which meant we couldn't ever get it working properly. Basically lost another day. I extended my stay another night at the hotel to take advantage of their internet, so I didn't really get started working on the boat until Tuesday, what with various logistics and such of dealing with customs, the boat yard, etc.

Tuesday sucked. I lugged a lot of equipment to the yard, didn't have anything working on the boat yet (no water, sewage, communications, nothing) so I did the best I could but accomplished little. Mostly I figured out what had broken, rotted or otherwise stopped working during my absence, and went about fixing what I could. It was hot, I was sweating and I didn't have any water or clean cloths to change into. I had been counting on there being cloths already down here. What I'd forgot was that they weren't washed. I couldn't actually do anything about it because it was past closing time so everyone had gone home, and it is somewhat unsafe to walk the streets t night, so I was pretty much trapped on the boat. Oh, and I hadn't had an opportunity to buy anything to eat. Did I mention that Tuesday sucked?

On Wednesday I decided that the lack of food, transportation and communication was going to be a real inconvenience, so I rented a car and purchased a quad band phone. This means I will be picking each of you up at the airport when you arrive, and that you can reach me directly anytime before then. The cell phone number is 1-868-463-3453.

Wednesday was far more productive. Over all the boat seems in good shape. It's dirty, needs a lot of cleaning, there were some leaks where rain got in, and some stuff got molded, but overall I was surprised at how little damage there was. I've heard stories of folks coming back to find their boat trashed by rats, or roaches or racoons. Or that the yard forgot to close the top hatch and the interior filled with rain water. Wierd shit like that happens. It was nice to find everything still where I left it, and the boat still in one piece.

I've got the water tanks refilled. They looked great - I'd left them pretty much empty and what came out of the tap seemed fine. This had been a real worry of mine. I had taken all the precautions I could when I put the boat up, but you just never know with water tanks. It sucks to drink icky tasting water, but everything worked fine and there was no problem!!

I shock treated them with chlorine anyway, just to be safe. The water is potable here, no worries about critters now either way. I did discover that one of the two water pumps (redundant system) has failed, so we'll need to replace that before we leave. Hopefully that can be done before you all arrive, but there are several other more important tasks ahead of them and we are slipping schedule a bit.

The refrigerator seems to be working just fine (which has improve my mood considerably as I can now have cold drinks) and I've made arrangements to have the local expert check it out and recharge the freezer components once the boat is in the water, and if possible to install an additional 12 volt compressor for the freezer. The current system is driven off the engine, which means having to run it at least twice a day. It might not be possible to do this in time for our trip, I need to go over this in further detail, but if we can do it, it is definitely worth having the quieter system. A redundant way of keeping the food cold is also a great idea.

All this babble is my way of saying that the schedule is slipping more than I wanted it to. I believe everything can be done before you all get here, but its getting tighter. To that end, be prepared to work (cleaning mostly) on the boat when you arrive. My hope and expectation is that the bulk of the effort will be done before anyone gets here, but things like cleaning the decks, bilges, polishing, etc. are last on my list. They may become first on yours.

To compensate everyone for this potential drudgery, I've booked a slip at the Crews Inn from March 26th until March 31st. This means we will be staying dock side at the nicest hotel in town. I had to spend big bucks but I figure it will make any last minute craziness easier, and it is always safer to sleep at dock than in a crappy anchorage. Getting good sleep before the trip is important. Plus, there is a beautiful pool, restaurant, gym, wi-fi, etc., for us to use for free, so if you did pack your laptops you will be able to send off emails and surf the web the last few days before we leave.

Jeff had expressed some concern about having only one source of power generation, and the more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that getting some solar panels makes sense. I've ordered two, they should arrive in time. The advantage to this is that we won't have to continually run the engines while sailing (which saves diesel and is much quieter) except at night.

Everyone I've spoken with has confirmed what I'd suspected. The best strategy is to sail as far from Venezuela as possible. At least thirty miles off their coast. This adds a few hours to the trip, but I think it makes most sense. There haven't been any incidents lately, but I'd rather be conservative about this. I'm still working on the firearms issues, if I find anything else out I'll let you know.

I will begin installing the new diesel filters tomorrow, and the SSB once the remaining parts arrive - hopefully by Friday. The radar unit is behind schedule, but that is next on the list. These are the big ticket items that I'd like to have tested before we leave.

MaryAnn had asked about email addresses while we are sailing. The best answer I can give is that you should assume that AnnMarie's email will be the contact point (have everyone send any mail for you to her) and she will send on to me. She can also receive emails from me, and forward them on to whomever you want as well. Unless you have a General Class HAM license you won't be able to use the email system directly.

There is an alternative option, which is purchasing a "SailMail" SSB (not HAM) subscription (they cost $250/year) but would allow you complete (and private) email access while we are at sea. It seems a bit steep to me, but if that is important I'd be happy to explain exactly what you need to do to set it up - which is trivially simple. It takes about two weeks to get it going, so if this is something you are considering, let me know ASAP.

I've researched the legal details of what you will need to do bringing gear into the country. It goes like this. I will be sending you all four pieces of paper. The first is a letter from Aikane's boat yard saying that the boat Triton (formerly TerraNova) is at their yard and crew will be coming to pick it up. Second is a letter from the Immigration folks here at Crews Inn, telling the immigration folks that you will be arriving and to allow you into the country to come to their offices to check in. The third and forth letters will be the bag manifests containing a list of everything in the suitcases. One possibly sticking point is if the bags also contain your own personal possessions. The customs folks don't like this, because then they have to determine what, if anything is boat parts from taxable items. If you are adding things to the luggage put them in a separate pouch with your name on it, and don't put in anything that isn't obviously used or anything that might be construed as resellable. ( i.e. Don't bring a brand new camera still in the box.)

Tomorrow morning I will go to immigration to get the various letters stamped and then fax/email everything to AnnMarie. She will have all the bag manifests as well, so please wait another day or so before getting in touch with her. Also, I will be at the airport when you arrive (providing I'm not killed by the maniacs who insist on driving on the wrong side of the road...oh wait, that's me) and will have my phone on me. If there is any question about anything during customs or immigration (there shouldn't be) you should be able to ask them to bring me back to the area and I can deal with whatever issues come up. If they make you go over and sit on the group W bench, expect to be there for a few hours. If you are planning on bringing a cell phone, find out if it will work in T&T, if so you can call me and I'll try to intercede.

Once you've cleared customs and immigration you'll need to go to customs and immigration. Welcome to the islands man! We will get in the car and drive straight here (to Crews Inn), and you'll repeat the entire process for the nice folks all over again. Once that is done, you are added to the crew manifest, surrender your passport to me, and can't leave the country without getting Trinidad's permission and having a few more stamps placed on a few more documents.

I've also arranged to have a wireless account (all problems can be solved by the application of either enough money, or a plastic bag of the appropriate size), so I can get on-line anytime for the next thirty days. Send me an email when you get to Miami (or which ever is your last stop before T&T) and let me know to expect you. If you're delayed, try to call me. Below are the dates/times I think everyone expects to arrive.

Please review the check lists I originally supplied and make sure you have everything you need. I'm going to be a bit preoccupied and I'd really like to not have to deal with anything unexpected once you arrive.

I look forward to seeing you all shortly. Please let me know if there are any other problems, concerns, or roadblocks. Also, if you get a chance, try to gloat over your coworkers so that when you're away it makes picking up the slack you've left behind that much more annoying. Right now I'm sitting a the restaurant that overlooks the bay, it is about 90 degrees, not that humid, the sky is a golden yellow fading into umber with deep purple clouds off coast. There is a pan music band playing behind me. The music mixes and flows with a marching band that rehearses at the fire station, not far from here. All music played below twenty degrees of latitude has exactly the same bass line. I think its some sort of maritime law.

Anyway, if you need anything let me know, I've got access to phone and computer pretty much at will now.


Cheers,

Robb


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Crew Equipment List.

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Editor's Note: The casual reader (i.e. someone not interested in actually sailing with us) may want to skip over this. There aren't many pictures, and its pretty dry reading, and a lot of it.

This was the first crew note to go out. It contained everything we thought might be useful for them to know. There is nothing really new to see here except some pictures of the boat itself. It's pretty much a list of what we thought the crew should have with them, and we talked about issues like sea sickness, contraband, pirates and privacy.

We had hoped we could write down everything the newbie sailor could possible need to know. We really tried for completeness, but even after that, we still forgot to tell people things like "Don't pee off the back of the boat at night in a storm when no one else is watching you."

Some people's kids!



Hey All,

If you're getting this it is because I believe you have expressed real interest in being on board the catamaran "Triton" during the Trinidad to Panama Canal transit, or the Canal to Mexico transit. If you've changed your mind or don't wish to get this info, please let me know at "RobbTriton"atsign"gmail"period"com" or at "TritonCat"atsign"gmail"period"com"

This is a long email. It contains as much info and insight as I can think of. I'm sure I've left something out, but as a first draft it will have to do.

Agenda

First things first: Current plans are that I will arrive in Chaguaramas, Trinidad around the 8th of March and begin readying the boat for the passage. Since she was in ready condition when I last left her, this shouldn't involve too much work - the bulk of which consists of adding additional communications and safety equipment and upgrading the diesel fuel filters. The boat is currently scheduled to be placed back in water during the last week of March, with final prep hopefully finished before April 1st. You are welcome to arrive there anytime during this period.

The trip to Panama is roughly 1000nm. Running down wind (the prevailing winds are towards the west) we should be able to make approximately 200nm each day, assume at least six days total under ideal conditions, but probably more like ten or twelve. That puts us in Panama harbor on the eleventh. Do not make any commitments about being anywhere at that time, or schedule any plane trips that you can't revise on the spot. (see note below about sailing on a schedule) We will most likely be within this time frame but could be off by as much as a week or two.

Once we leave Trinidad we will not stop until we get to Panama unless some critical provision like water or fuel runs low, or there is some major mechanical failure or weather condition that necessitates heading for port. In that case we will head towards the safest harbor within sailing distance.

If at any time you decide that the trip has delayed more than your schedule can permit, then whenever we next make land, you will be able to leave the boat and make your own arrangements for flying back home. (see note below about documentation)

Vessel

The vessel is a 45' cruising catamaran, equipped for blue water sailing.


It has four separate state rooms, each with a queen size bunk and a private bath
and a galley, salon and navigation station enclosed in the bridge deck which spans the amas (the name for each hull of a catamaran is an "ama") large enough to easily handle eight to ten people comfortably, as well as a protected steering station and cockpit with seating for twelve. The forward section includes a large trampoline for sunbathing, as well as an aft deck and "sugar scoops" (steps leading down to the water from the transom) for easy loading and access. The cabins are spacious with plenty of storage, but due to the design, head room above the bed is less than 36" (see attached photos), but otherwise it is very comfortable, especially if you've ever been on a comparably sized monohull. The large dining table in the salon also folds down into another sleeping area if need be.

The starboard aft stateroom is mine, and I will not share that with anyone (owner's rights), which leave three staterooms for four people - assuming no one else wants to come along. I'm assuming that Jen will want her own room for privacy, so that leaves Mike, Matt and Jeff divvying up the remaining two. I'll leave that to your best judgment. You are also welcome to sleep in the salon, but there isn't any privacy nor is there much peace or quiet.

Rewards and Responsibilities

We expect to spend the next few months moving our vessel from Trinidad to the West coast of Mexico, hopefully as far north as either Ensenada or La Paz. In the process, anyone along for the ride will experience a really amazing, once in a life time, sail through the Caribbean, Panama Canal and/or the West Coast on a comfortable cruising catamaran. There is no fee or cost in doing so, you are traveling as our guest, but you are responsible for making your own travel and living arrangements.

Each member on board is expected to perform some minimum effort towards the boat (see details below), as well as help in transporting the necessary gear from California to wherever the boat is, when needed. We are not responsible for any expense you might acquire while traveling with us, including your medical costs, your insurance, your travel expenses or your cost of living expenses while traveling with us. We do not have insurance that will cover you in the event of an injury or disaster. You must arrange for this coverage yourself. You are not being hired on as paid or professional crew, and nothing should be construed as remuneration or reimbursement. You will not be paid for anything. This is not a "delivery" and we are not sailing to any schedule.

Luggage and Gear

As "crew" you will be expected to bring one or two large suitcases (along with your carry on bags) which I will supply.They will already be full of various bits of sailing gear, so don't count on being able to put anything in them. It isn't clear what I'll be able to ship versus what we'll need to bring down by plane, so right now assume you'll each be carrying two of them, that they will meet the airline weight/size guidelines, and that without them we will be missing important supplies. Don't lose them or it could affect the trip.

Additionally, you should be able to carry on a "purse" or "briefcase" or "laptop" and one traditional carry on bag. I've created a list of what I believe are appropriate and necessary personal items needed for this trip, all of which should go in your carry on bag. Consider this as your own shopping list if you don't already have a lot of sailing gear. If you have any questions about any of this please ask me via email, and cc everyone else on the list so we increase the knowledge sharing aspect of it as well.

You should expect that your carry on bag will contain the following items:

All items marked with an asterisk are mandatory - you must have these to go sailing with me!
All items marked with a question mark are optional - they are nice but not absolutely necessary.
All items marked with a plus sign are recommended you wear on the plane, to minimize carry on space issues.

Carry On:

* Scopolamine transderm patches,
enough for every day you expect to be at sea, plus one extra three day supply. It is considered a polite gesture to leave any remaining unused patches behind after the trip for other crew that might need them.

* 2 Towels, at least one large enough to use as a beach towel.

*+ 1 Foul Weather Jacket
my suggestion is the West Marine Offshore, which I think is an excellent product.


*+ Foul Weather Bibs pretty much what ever is comfortable, but make sure they are easy to get on over warm fleece.

*+ 1 Deck sneakers appropriate for weather use: Fathom FisherMen Laceups or Sperry Topsiders or the classic rubber deck boots or something equivalent. For cold weather you want to stay dry, for warm weather you will want breathability. If we are sailing in both conditions you may want a pair of each.

*+ 2 pair of polarized, UV blocking sunglasses & croakies (straps). If possible, get 1 with a sunblock nose guard and 1 pair of backup sunglasses, all with their own hard cases. Trust me, glasses get lost, sat on or broken. You'll want at least this many each with their own clasps, and something to protect them.

1 pair of sailing gloves. Okay, this isn't mandatory, and a bit on the religious side. I don't use them, but lots of folks hate handling lines, especially in cold weather without them. I've found that WholeFoods has gardening gloves that work great as well. If you're anticipating temperatures below seventy degrees, you probably want something.

* Type 3 auto inflating PFD / Harness with D Rings. Note: you will definitely not be allowed to bring the inflater cartridge on the plane. I strongly recommend you pack them anyway, with both the primary cartridge installed and the secondary cartridge in the backup sleeve of the PFD, and put this in your checked lugage. Most times they don't notice or will let it slide. Before you come down (at least two weeks), let me know exactly what type cartridge (make, model, size, etc.) you have so that I can check the local chandlery to see if they stock it should you need to additional cartridges or auto inflator triggers. Make sure the PFD has D-Rings already built into the harness (like the one on the right - as opposed to the one on the left) otherwise you will need a separate, additional harness.

* 6' (stretch) tether, preferably with a 3' (static) secondary tether. I would recommend the WestMarine tether, or Witchard Model# 7006. This device is used is used to attach you to the jack lines which are lines that run along the length of the boat, and across the width of the boat at the mast. One end clips to the D-Rings of your harness, and the other end(s) clip into the jack lines. The reason for the second shorter leash is if you need to switch from a bow to stern jackline to one of a line running abeam.

* 1 Personal Strobe light appropriate for your PFD with new battery.

Okay, there are lots and lots of different types of strobes here. The best solution is to get the type that is matched to your PFD, but there are so many possible alternatives that also work that I won't even try to pick a single solution. My suggestion would be one that operates automatically when your PFD inflates, in case you aren't conscious when you fall overboard. If if you are, remembering to do this is not what you want to be concentrating on when you are dealing with a situation like this. Make sure you also have a backup battery as well. Don't skimp on this, your life may depend on it.

1 or 2 swim trunks or jammers or surfer pants. You will most likely wear these every day for the entire trip. Take a look at our pictures and count the number of different outfits we wore over three months. You don't need a lot!

1 or 2 long sleeved (UV protective) cotton or synthetic shirts that cover your shoulders. I can't stress this enough - bring long sleeve, light weight, cotton clothes. You will need protection from the sun, and sun block will not always be the right answer.

*+ 1 lightweight dress shirt. Something nice, that you could wear out to a reasonable restuarant.
*+ 1 lightweight dress pants (or skirt/dress). Same as above. This outfit will be your "show up at the port captain's office outfit".

1 pair comfortable dock/deck shoes: crocks, topsiders, or some "deck friendly" nonabrasive, non marking, nonskid shoe. To be worn with the above.

? 1 pair water socks: aqua socks, skin diving booties, or some such. This turns out to be something quite useful if you are going to go exploring, or swimming with fins that might be too big, or going from dinghy to dock, etc. Something with a non-skid bottom is best, or pair them up with waterproof (plastic) sandals.

*+ 1 pair wool (or synthetic equivalent) socks. Your feet will get cold - this can really improve you attitude if you have to spend time on watch on a breezy night.

? 1 pair thin cotton socks. If you get a blister, or need to walk around town, or just want something between your feet and the wool socks, this will be really nice to have.

*+ 1 very large straw or cloth sun hat with straps or built in flotation. This turns out to be something you really ought to bring two, or even three of. I have a half dozen hats on board, and am always on the lookout for more.

? 1 baseball type cap with brim and clip strap.
? 1 fleece lined cap that fits under foully jacket hood. This is nice for cold weather, or mild weather with high winds. I like it just to protect my ears from the wind.

1 polypro long johns and top. You may not need them, but if you do, you really need them.
1 fleece pullover or jacket. Same as above.
? 1 fleece pants (you won't need them unless it gets cold during a storm, then you'll sell your soul for them).

* 1 headlamp. (preferably with both red and white led options - if you can afford to bring two, do so).
? 2 lightweight sarongs. Okay, this turns out to be the thing most guys don't bring, then end up wishing they had. They are easy to pack, easy to wear, and comfortable as hell. Trust me, you'll love them.

whatever personal hygiene products you require.


Also, limit what ever else you think you absolutely have to bring (especially clothes) to a minimum. Very often folks drag down a lot of stuff that never gets used and is just dragged back home. I doubt you'll feel like reading the first few days, so books, especially big, heavy work related books or paperwork might turn out to be a waste of effort, whereas cameras, videocams and such tend to be very useful. Make sure whatever electronic equipment you bring has its own (very safe) waterproof containers.

Also, there is a laptop on board. It is absolutely not for your use. If you want to use a laptop for any reason whatsoever, you will need to bring your own. Do not ask to use the ship's laptop. It is strictly for navigation and communication purposes only. Don't even think about touching it without the captain's direct permission and oversight. This is not a matter to treat lightly or dismiss. Our lives depend upon certain important pieces of equipment, such at the engines, compass, depth sounder, radios, chart plotters, and other various electronic components. The ships computer is very much a part of this system, regardless of how much it looks just like your laptop at home. Ignoring this order is tantamount to mutiny. You will be asked to leave the ship if you violate this boundary. This is not a joke.

On the lighter side...we do have a bunch of masks, snorkels and flippers, you probably don't need anything for skin diving, unless you require a prescription mask or definitely want to have the right size flippers. I would recommend you get a nylon "dive skin", just something that covers your body completely when you are swimming, in case you bump into the occasional jelly fish.

NOTE: if you have prescription lens, bring an appropriate dive mask for them, or get those lens that glue into a regular mask. If you have unusually large or small feet, bring your own flippers.


Travel Arrangements

You will need to fly into Port of Spain, which is the capital city of Trinidad, and then take a taxi to the port city of Chaguaramas, about an hour away. It would be best if as many of you could fly on the same day as possible, to reduce the number of cab fares to & from the airport, if that is at all possible. Let me know when you intend to arrive and I will make arrangements with the local taxi driver (his name is Jesse James) who will meet you at the airport and drive you to the boat yard.

Trinidad is a former English colony, everyone speaks English, although I have a hard time understanding the dialect. People are very shy, and formal at first. Americans are generally welcome, but lately there has been much more crime directed towards them, especially towards "cruisers". It is not recommended you wear anything of value when out on the street, and not travel at night except in a private commercial taxi. There have been a number of robberies, car jacking and muggings lately, and the situation was tense when I last left there. I haven't heard much lately, so I assume it hasn't gotten any worse.



The boat is currently "on the hard" (sailor speak for "up on blocks on the ground") at Aikane's Shipyard. This is located directly across from the Trinidad Coast Guard base.
When you get to the gate a guard will let you in. Tell him you are here to meet Robb Kane on "Triton" (formerly named "TerraNova")

The address is:
Aikane Trinidad Limited
Warehouse C16,
W.M.R., Chaguaramas,
PO Bag 1099 - Carenage
Trinidad, West Indies

Phone 868 634 4060
Fax 868 634 4061

Getting a flight in, and a return flight back from Panama should cost around $700. I strongly advise against flying the smaller airlines if at all possible, especially Caribbean Star or Caribbean Sun, unless you really don't ever want to see your luggage again, but I'm not bitter. I know that American flies into there, I would suggest you try them first.


Documentation

We live in a free country. You can move about without asking any one's opinion or permission. All that is about to change. In order to go sailing you will need a passport, a health certificate, a driver's license or photo id, at lease one valid credit card and/or cash enough to get you back home.

If you don't have a passport, get on it NOW. They can take months to obtain. You need a passport that is valid for at least six more months. Trust me that you do not want to have to replace one overseas. Nothing will suck more than flying to another country, missing the boat ride, and spending the next few weeks trying to get a new one before you can get back in the country.

The health certificate (also sometimes called your "yellow" card because it is traditionally printed on hard stock, yellow paper) is something you obtain from your doctor. It includes certifications of each of the various inoculations you've had since childhood (measles, pox, etc.) as well as any other booster shots (tetanus, hep A/B, etc.). BTW, if you haven't had one lately, get another tetanus shot. They are good for five years. Also, ask you doctor about getting vaccinated against Hepatitis A & B. The entire process takes about six months, but it is worth doing and lasts for decades.

NOTE: When you come aboard, you will surrender your passport and health certificate to me. By law I'm responsible for having them in my possession. If you decide to leave the ship ahead of time, we must both go to the Harbor Master or Port Captain and change the boat's visa documentation. You will need to provide proof of transport (usually a plane ticket) before you name can be removed from the boat manifest. This is no small matter. Ships can be prevented from leaving the country unless everyone is accounted for or on board. Entering another country without everyone on the manifest can result in fines, impounding the vessel or detainment. This isn't something I wish to treat lightly, please understand that the consequences of not doing everything according to the letter of the law can be serious. Your cooperation is mandatory on this issue.


Safety Equipment

As to other safety equipment on board, besides the standard equipment one would expect to find such as flares, dye, smoke, flotation, life vests, etc., the boat will be equipped with a 406MHz EPIRB, several VHF radios as well as a HAM & SSB radio, several handheld GPS, at least two ChartPlotters, Radar, Sonar, Sea Anchor, Drogues and each crew member will have a MOB wristwatch which can automatically engage on immersion. There is also a matching Radio Beacon Direction Finding device for tracking anyone who does go overboard wearing one of these watches.

YOU WILL BE REQUIRED TO WEAR A MOB (man over board) WATCH WHENEVER YOU ARE OUTSIDE THE SALON FROM DUSK TO DAWN, OR IN INCLEMENT WEATHER, OR AT THE CAPTAIN'S DISCRETION. YOU WILL NOT COMPLAIN ABOUT IT. YOU WILL NOT CLAIM IT DOESN'T WORK. YOU WILL NOT STUFF IT BENEATH YOUR MATTRESS THEN CLAIM YOU CAN'T FIND IT. YOU WILL NOT BITCH ABOUT IT. YOU WILL NOT BE PASSIVE/AGGRESSIVE ABOUT IT EITHER.

There is also a Radio Direction Finder (RDF) that constantly monitors for any emergency beacon signal on this frequency, and can be used to pinpoint locate the source. So, if you fall overboard, we can find you, even at night, even in a storm - providing you are wearing your watch, and we've all practiced using this device. Expect to conduct at least one practice session before setting sail, which means spending at least four hours not having fun, but potentially saving your life should you fall overboard in a storm.

Mike Stewart (a paramedic and member of the crew) has generously taken responsibility for kitting out the medical bag, which will cover the basics emergencies such as lacerations, burns and the like. If you have any special needs (allergic reactions, daily meds, etc.) or if you desire to bring any additional safety equipment please let me know now so that we can include this in our preparations.


Communications

The boat is equipped with a standard VHF radio for ship to ship and ship to shore (within twenty miles) communication. It also has (barring technical difficulties) a HAM radio for long distance communication, an operational Single Side Band (SSB) radio capable of making overseas calls, sending email and retrieving weather faxes, as well as an emergency Iridium satellite phone capable of reaching almost anywhere in the world under almost any weather condition. Using the SSB ship to shore phone is somewhat pricey, lacks privacy and requires good atmospheric conditions. If you need to make a call, we can try to put it through, but it may not always be possible.

SSB Email is less problematic, tends to be more reliable, but is slow. It can take significantly longer to send and retrieve emails, but it is relatively inexpensive to do so. Do not rely on this as a means of communication, but if it is necessary to send an occasional post, we should have the ability to do so while at sea.

The satellite phone is a measure of last resort. It is easy, convenient and reliable, but very, very expensive. If it is an emergency then this is what we will most likely use if the SSB operation isn't successful. Please understand that these are not free services and we expect that you will reimburse us for any costs we incur in delivering your messages. If you believe you absolutely need to make phone calls, then we suggest you purchase a digital prepaid card for the phone. These can be obtained at chandleries such as West Marine, or through various electronic device dealerships, for amounts between $75 and $150 that will purchase prepaid calling time.


Sea Sickness

First off, everyone gets sea sick eventually. Some have it frequently, others rarely, no one is immune. Mark Twain, during his time aboard ships, discovered an amazing cure for sea sickness, with an effectiveness approaching 100%. He found that placing the patient's head directly at the base of a California Oak tree not less than fifty feet high, with the patient's feet extending horizontally outward and due north, relieved symptoms almost immediately. Alas, we do not have room on board for such a tree and are limited to other, more pedestrian cures.

First off, don't worry about it too much, as it affects almost everyone for the first day or two of a passage, and then subsides naturally. For me, I'm normally very queasy the first two days at sea. If I can stay warm, dry, well hydrated and get plenty of sleep, it goes away and from then on in I'm fine. As a crew member I almost always take anti-nausea meds for the first few days - usually Sturgeron (it isn't available in the states, but is an over the counter drug almost everywhere else) usually starting about twelve hours before we set sail. If sea sickness symptoms progress to vomiting I'll switch to the transderm patch, which works whether I'm yowling or not. It tends to knock you out for a few hours, but after that you're usually great and can function both above and below decks.

I'll have plenty of Sturgeron on hand, but I insist that everyone bring their own Scopolamine patches. They aren't cheap, and they require a doctor's script, so get this done soon (now) and don't worry about it. Dashing around at the last minute for this is a huge hassle.

NOTE: You want to put on the patch AT LEAST twelve hours before sailing. Waiting until you start to feel bad means you'll be sick for twelve hours until the meds have a chance to kick in. You've been warned.

Also, OTC items like Dramamine and Bomine, in my limited and anecdotal experience, don't work. Use them if you must, but don't come aboard without a few days worth of transderm patches as well or you'll be sent home. No joke.

NOTE: I usually don't take medication when I'm the captain, because I don't want anything to affect my judgment or tire me out. If I get really slammed, then I'll use a transderm patch. Don't compare yourself to my habits or anyone else's. If you're at all worried, wear a patch. They work amazingly well.

NOTE: There are lots of things that contribute to sea sickness. Staying away from alcohol, drugs, greasy foods, dank air and enclosed areas helps tremendously. Getting lots of rest, plenty of fluid, vitamin C & B complex, staying above decks, looking out at the horizon and manning the helm all seem to help as well. There are also some claims that ginger helps: we will have various foodstuffs of this on board in the form of raw ginger, candied ginger, ginger beer, and chocolate covered crystallized ginger.

Bring whatever other magic potions or remedies you believe will work for you. Also, sea sickness has a very real psychological component. If you firmly believe something will work, it may just. If you stress or worry about it, you will probably make it worse.


Safety At Sea

Okay, here is the part where reality sets in. This is a dangerous undertaking. Why? Well, the ocean doesn't care about you and will kill you the first chance you give it. Worse still, I, as captain, am morally, if not legally, responsible for your life. To that end, I will not take any chance with your safety, or the other crew members, myself or my vessel. This means that we will always err on the conservative side of things.

In the past, hardy sailing folks didn't use lifelines, netting, harnesses, PFDs, tethers, or any other form of safety device. And they usually got away with it, until they died. This mindset remains prevalent in many sailing communities today, much the way that seat belts or air bags or electronically controlled brakes are still poopoohed by some ignorant drivers.

As you read this, the current thinking about being "tied in" is changing in light of the recent and numerous MOBs, accidents and drownings that have occurred. Several folks have been caught unawares and washed overboard by rogue waves, even during perfectly good weather! These days, most prudent sailors are realizing that even in the best of conditions, it is best to be tied to the boat. The "old salts" among us may claim that this is overly precautious (this was my attitude as recently as last year) but since I can't afford to risk your life (even if you are willing to) I've revised my rules governing operations above decks. That said, a few explanations about procedures:

1) Anyone outside of the boat, even in the cockpit, during non-daylight hours or in anything but absolutely flat weather, regardless of how little time is intended to be spent or the trivialness of the errand, MUST wear a PFD and harness at all times.
2) The boat will be equipped with jack lines. These are heavy lines that run fore and aft along the inside of the decks, as well as two that run athwart ships just forward and aft of the cockpit, and a crossing line at the mast. Whenever you are standing outside the cockpit coamings, for any reason, at any time, you MUST be connected to these jack lines with a tether and harness.
3) During even the slightest of inclement weather or from any time before dusk until after sunrise, you must attach yourself to a jack line even within the cockpit. Even if you don't intend to go out on deck. No exceptions.
4) No one is to exit the cockpit (cross the coamings) or stand on the aft deck or sugar scoops, for any reason, without someone else in the cockpit and tied in.

Safety Drills

Sorry guys, but I'm just not a "Safety Third" kind of guy, no matter how sexy that is at Burning Man. In fact, I'm well beyond anal retentive (perhaps even epiglottis retentive) about this kind of stuff, so expect to practice what to do in emergencies, and talk a lot about how we will handle certain conditions. Odds are very, very good that everything we discuss or practice will never happen. If it does, then you will know what to do and have done it in simulation at least once.

We will practice MOB drills, including the use of the safety sling and the radio beacon direction finder. We will also practice setting and retrieving the sea parachute and the drogues. Every crew member will also know how to raise and lower the sails, as well as how to operate the anchor windlass, engines, and sail lines. We will practice all of these skills for a full day, including tacks and jibes (sailing maneuvers) before we depart.

I would also like to get the crew together before we leave for a practice round with the MOB RFD. If someone goes overboard at night, this is going to be the single best device for finding them. Understanding how to use it before we need to is paramount!


Insurance

Believe it or not, there is very cheap insurance available through DAN (Diver's Alert Network) that covers you for any accident involving scuba diving, or while on your way to or from the dive site, or if you happen to be injured while doing so. I believe there is also a provision about "vacation insurance" there as well. Since we ultimately want to go diving at some point in this trip, it probably makes sense for you to look into this.

If nothing else, I recommend you speak with your insurance broker or travel agent about obtaining some form of "catastrophic" insurance that would cover you for things like emergency room visits, helicopter rides, ambulance, etc. while in a foreign country. For the amount of money you'll spend, it is well worth the investment.


Sailing Schedules

Sailing is an odd sort of endeavor. On the whole, it is a relatively safe way of traveling, providing one is willing to pay attention to the weather, the condition of the vessel and the ability of the crew. On the other hand, it is one of the most dangerous things you can do if you are willing to disregard climate, ship and shipmates. If you ask around, you'll find that the conventional wisdom regarding passage making is "NEVER, EVER SAIL ON A SCHEDULE!"

This means that if there isn't a perfect weather window, and/or there is anything wrong with the boat, and/or there is some problem that could compromise the abilities of the crew, then we don't sail. Even if this means not getting where you need to be by some specific time. Even if it means you might miss your flight. Even if you can't refund your tickets.

To this end, I must warn you that I will not accept any pressure to leave before everything is reasonably ship shape, the crew is rested, and the weather looks favorable. Now, no one can predict weather perfectly, but modern equipment and expertise is pretty good about alerting you to rough conditions, especially severe gales, storms and hurricanes. We will not sail in these if at all possible, and will delay or detour as far as is necessary to avoid them, regardless of what this does to your plans.

If you have any questions about why I'm so adamant about this particular issue, I suggest you research the last ten sailing disasters that have occurred recently. Count how many of them were (either directly or indirectly) because the crew decided they needed to make a schedule. I believe you'll find that more than half of all sailing accidents include this as a causal factor. By simply following this simple, safe and obvious guideline, we can reduce the chances of having a problem out at sea tremendously.

So, in case this isn't clear, I'll repeat it. We do not sail on anyone's schedule.


The Captain is an Asshole (or what happens when things go wrong)

Yep, you heard it here first, the captain is an asshole. Partly it's because he grew up in New Jersey, in a bad family, but mostly because its his job is to make sure that everything is done right, that the crew is safe and the boat doesn't sink. In other words, to be as much of a pain in the ass as is necessary to make sure everything is okay - but no more than that!

Look, lets be honest. No one wants to be bossed around. And, truth be told, I don't want to be anything but kind and encouraging, and certainly not your mother. Besides, you guys are my friends, and I want to keep it that way. But I also need you to understand that I expect everyone to cooperate when the situation demands.

Now, if the captain were a perfect captain, he would be able to communicate exactly what he needs, in a way that makes you feel great about yourself, and makes you want to do the best job possible. Sadly, this captain is far from perfect. In fact, he is a jerk, he is stupid, he is grumpy, he is mean, there is almost no end to his incompetence, he is ugly, fat and he dresses funny. Did I mention bad breath and no singing voice as well?

That said, this captain would like to be a great captain and a really nice guy all the time. And he is going to try to communicate exactly what he needs in a way that makes you feel great about yourself. But that doesn't mean he won't fail miserably in the process. Should this happen during an emergency, the correct response is to deal with the task at hand and then after the crisis is over, calmly discuss how it could have been handled better. During the emergency try to remember that it is really fucking difficult to remain polite and sensitive when the first mate has just fallen overboard or the cook is bleeding. There may be some shouting involved - don't take it personally.

Also, try to remember, at that point, when the captain "asks" you to do something, he isn't really "asking", he is in fact "telling". There are really only a few correct responses to this: One is "AyeAye" or "Roger", which sounds goofy but is actually appropriate. Another is "I don't understand what you want me to do, please explain it better". And there are always the "I'm afraid to do that", "I'm not physically capable of doing that" or "I think its too dangerous, how about we do this instead?" These are all valid responses. Bitching, griping or complaining are not, nor is yelling "I'M TRYING AS HARD AS I CAN GOD DAMN IT!", even if you are really tired and stressed. It doesn't help at all and only adds more stress to the situation. If you are having a hard time with something let him know as soon as you do, not when things have hit the fan. If you are being asked to do something beyond your limits, say so right away. If you aren't absolutely certain how to do something, get more clarification. For most things, a simple acknowledgment should be enough.

NOTE: It is very unlikely that we will ever be in an emergency. The above info certainly does apply then, but it also applies to those situations when you are tired, cold, stressed or uncertain. Understand that there is someone whose job it is to make sure you are safe, and treated well, but in that order.


The Captain Is Not Always Right, But He Is Ultimately Responsible

Now, having said the above tripe, I need to really stress that I'm not God, nor in any way above anyone else. In fact, it is an odds on bet that someone else in the crew will have a better idea about how to solve a problem, or handle a situation, than I will. To that end I will always try to include everyone on all decisions, and to reach a consensus. For each situation we will allot a reasonable amount of time to discuss it (situation permitting) and then try to come to a reasonable solution. If we can't, for whatever reason, then I will decide. That decision is always going to be mine to make.

By the way, a lot of research has been conducted about Airline crashes, and the conclusion reached was that many times the major cause was because other members of the crew felt intimidated to disagree with the captain. If we are going to do this right, then everyone, regardless of their experience, has to know that they have the right to participate in the process. What you think matters, but only if you say it. Once we've decided on a direction then all discussion should stop, unless some new information comes along that changes the situation.

This is always a delicate balance. Everyone needs to feel like they can disagree, be respected and respectful while doing so, but ultimately all pull in the same direction. If you see me (or anyone else) bullying the conversation, point this out. The goal is safety, not ego, so don't hesitate to mention what might not be obvious to the perpetrator, but is potentially dangerous for everyone. Speak up!!

NOTE: There is a famous sailing story from the 1600's. Back then it was illegal for anyone but the navigator & captain to chart their course while in route. This had to do with maintaining discipline on ship (where mutinous crews were common) but also to prevent spys from gleaming coastal navigation information - a big deal back before the advent of modern charts, precise compasses, sextants and clocks. In fact, it was such a big deal that the penalty for doing so was death. Well, a lowly seaman was doing just that, and his computations led him to believe that the ship was heading for a deadly reef, instead of the safe harbor they thought they were headed towards. He brought his findings to the captain, who ignored what he said, ordered him executed and then promptly ran his boat onto the reef, sinking it and killing most of the rest of the crew. Moral of the story: If you think something ain't right, say so, loudly, to everyone, especially the captain.

P.S. Everyone and anyone is encouraged to also keep a navigation log and practice their navigation skills. The more folks doing this the better, and we can all teach each other as we go. Its fun and something everyone can and should learn. I promise not to execute anyone for doing so.


Why Can't We All Just Get Along?

Well, why can't we? Sometimes, there is someone on board who just rubs everyone the wrong way. If you find someone is annoying you, try talking to them about it, or talk to the captain. Don't let it escalate or turn ugly. Almost everything can be resolved.

Sometimes, it can't. Sometimes there is someone that everyone else finds intolerable. I've seen it happen, but it is very, very rare. It isn't always because that person is bad, or a jerk, it might just be the way they interact with the group. Sometimes, especially during stressful events like offshore sailing, people behave oddly. The best way to deal with this situation is to recognize it is happening and bring it to the attention of the captain. Maybe the solution is as simple as changing the watch schedule, or task assignments, or cabins. Maybe its asking them to leave. Either way, there has to be harmony on board.

If it turns out that you find that you are on bad terms with everyone, talk to the captain right away and figure out what is going on. Either way, don't let minor issues turn into major battles.

NOTE: The above statements should be unnecessary, but if I don't include them, I'm not being complete. I really don't anticipate any problems with anyone.


Crew Watches

Currently, there are four people besides myself on board. This means that everyone does a six hours out of every twenty four. Now there are lots of ways of handling this. A popular one is three on, nine off. Another is to divide the crew into two shifts, each of twelve hours. The two member get to choose their own schedule within that period. Another approach is to have fixed times that alternate. We can discuss what works best when we are getting ready to sail. I don't have a preference myself, but it also isn't something we can't change or experiment with as well. Let's see what works for us.

I won't be standing shifts as I will be available pretty much continuously, and can sub in for anyone who gets ill or needs a break. If you are not absolutely comfortable with your duties, or something comes up, or you are worried about something, then talk to me, or wake me up.


Boat Work

Every boat needs constant attention, and this one is no different. While on board, we ask that you spend (at most) one hour a day (in addition to your watch duties) doing some form of maintenance, weather providing. Generally this means polishing a small bit of railing, or scrubbing the coamings, or checking the life lines, or checking for leaks, or some other light duty work. It isn't a big deal, but if everyone does a small amount each day it makes a huge difference.


Food On Board

AnnMarie will be flying down to Trinidad the week before we leave, and she will provision the boat. If you want anything in particular to eat, let her know and she can purchase it for you. Also, please be aware that I have an allergy to gluten (the protein in wheat, barley, rye and oats) so it would be greatly appreciated if you could be aware of what foods are mixing with what I eat, as that might "poison" me. For instance, bread crumbs that happen to spill into the salad will ruin my day. Please treat all this with care, as an unhappy crew mate is not fun.

All cooking (open flame) is to be observed directly at all times. Do not walk away from the cooking stove for any reason, unless you first shut it off. Fires on board are very deadly. Everyone is required to exercise the greatest vigilance.

We are going to try to make as much food in advance as possible, so that we can minimize the amount of cooking and food prep needed while in route. Items like cereal, oatmeal, sandwiches, noodle cups, etc. tend to be pretty popular for this. Don't scrimp on treats, especially items that will easily fit in a pocket during watches, like candy bars, chocolate, cookies, brownies, etc. They provide quick bursts of energy (high fat & sugar) and if handled properly can help keep sea sickness away. Plus it is always nice to have a treat - you deserve it.


Clothing

Providing we are at sea, or in some relatively secluded area, clothing is optional on board or overboard, but it is strongly advised that you respect the customs and morays of whatever country we happen to be in. When going into town, expect to dress conservatively. If we are going to the Harbor Master or Port Captain's offices, we will all be dressed in our best formal clothes, be washed and sober.

Weather permitting, we will drop sail and swim about every so often. This really helps keep you cool. We will also have fresh showers, but we need to ration that water so limit your showering to no more than 1 minute per shower, and no more than four showers a day. Water will be the single most precious commodity on board.


Contraband, Drugs or Firearms On Board

Unless you can (and will) provide a doctors prescription for what you are taking, drugs (or any other contraband such as explosives or firearms) haves very serious consequences. Should the authorities find them on board, the owner (me, whether I knew about them or not) can go to jail, the boat can be impounded (never to be see again) and the loser who caused the problem will regret it for the rest of their short life. I will personally see to it that anyone bringing contraband aboard my vessel is convinced that they have made a serious mistake and begs for death - but I'm not bitter. Now, I'm sure some of you might think this is being a bit drastic, but sadly, the last trip I took involved someone showing up with some recreational material - they were very disappointed by my reaction. Aside from being unfuckingbelievably stupid (subjecting your host to imprisonment and loss of their home) it is also rude and impolite. I suggest you lookup Lazzareth Long's attitudes about this kind of behavior. Mine are more so.


Alcohol

Although I do enjoy the occasional drink, we are basically tee totalers and neither AnnMarie nor I will have any alcohol on board for ourselves. This means that anything alcoholic you wish to drink will your own responsibility. Bring whatever you like, and any mixers you might need as well. Use your own pineapple juice if you want to make a pina-colada, and keep it clearly labeled so there isn't any confusion. If you run out, don't assume we will want to donate to the cause.

You are an adult, and are welcome to drink as much as you desire, providing it doesn't compromise your abilities to safely stand watch. This means you start your watch sober. Other than that, have at.


Smoking

There is no smoking aboard. This isn't because I'm against it (I enjoy smoking cigarettes occasionally) but because of all the smells that permeate a boat (and contribute to sea sickness) cigarette smoke is probably the single most repugnant smell possible. To my knowledge, no one on this trip smokes (at least regularly) so this should be a non-issue. If you have addition issues here, then plan on bringing some nicotine gum or patches. Under perfect conditions, smoking may be possible if sitting on the sugar scope while we head towards windward and willing to provide everyone else on board with one as well. You must still ask permission first, and it isn't likely to be granted. Sorry, but I have to live on this boat long after you leave.


Good Times, Good Times...

Well, I've saved the best for last. At least, after reading through all this, I hope that all this talk of emergency procedures and restrictions on what you can or can't do didn't scare you off, and that you believe there might still be the possibility of having a good time. The reality of sailing long distances is that long periods of time are spend just chilling, listening to music, watching the dolphins play in the bow wake or sunbathing on the trampoline. There are few things more relaxing or enjoyable, especially when it isn't your boat!

So, please, take everything I've said with a grain of salt. This is a really special opportunity for all of us. I'd like it to be safe, but also fun, relaxing and enjoyable. I very much appreciate your coming along, and look forward to spending time with you on the ocean.


Post Script

If there was any part of this email that was confusing, poorly written, off putting or technically incorrect, please point it out to me. This document will eventually become the template for future sailing invites, so any input you can provide would be much appreciated.


Talk to you all soon.

Cheers,

Robb


--If you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans.


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