Kids, Don't Try This At Home!

Hi, and welcome to the adventures of "Triton", a 45' Robertson & Caine Leopard catamaran we purchased in July of 2007, in Tortola, in the British Virgin Islands. We sailed her back to Emeryville, California, located in the lovely San Francisco East Bay area, worked a few more years, then set off cruising in the fall of 2014. This journal is the story of our ongoing adventure, the folks we've met along the way, and the hardships and joys of that journey. Please read along and let us know what you think!

You can click
here to start from the very beginning of the entire adventure. You can navigate from post to post simply by clicking the NEXT or PREVIOUS phrases at the top or bottom of each page. To find out what we've been fixing, changing, upgrading, click on the Triton Boat Work link under Related Websites. If you want to subscribe to this blog (and get emails letting you know whenever we update it) just click on the icon that says "subscribe to: posts (atom)" at the bottom of each page.

Showing posts with label Jeff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jeff. Show all posts

Saturday, October 20, 2007

Musetta, just another normal cruising couple

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Dear readers,

It has been a fun filled week. No, actually, it has been a humidity filled week, and the fun has been trying to find ways to avoid it. The rains have pretty much subsided, although we notice thunder and lightening off in the distance most evening, and get the occasional sprinkle if we go to sleep and forget to close a hatch [the only way to absolutely guarantee dry weather is to close every portal on the boat, raising the level of stuffiness to something approaching a teenager's gym locker], but for the most part it is just plain sticky. It's that kind of weather, that after about twenty minutes of doing anything (including sitting quietly and reading), you find yourself dripping with sweat. We take frequent dips in the pool, shower several times a day, and are still sweaty ninety five percent of the time. The other five percent we are drying off.

The plan to get the boat ready is moving forward, our lovely catamaran appears to have survived my absence and for the most part we are on track. Robinson joined us last week, but then went off for a bit when AnnMarie arrived-- which was convenient because he said he needed to go to Leon for a dental appointment. Of course, Leon is also one of the hippest college towns in the country, and is famed for its night life, and has fantastic beaches for surfing and taking in the scenery. Sadly, his dentist wasn't able to see him, but his grin didn't seem to suffer any.

Now, I realize that quite a lot of my posts contain complaints about the weather, the food, the natives, the shops, etc., and it would be easy to think that the cruising life is actually pretty bad, so I apologize if I've given anyone the impression that it is merely a life of boat repairs punctuated with expensive interactions with government officials, shop keepers and mechanics. There are many other aspects that I've omitted, and in my haste to describe my sojourn I've left out some of the more rewarding items like mosquitoes the size of parakeets, black mold so evolved it has elected its own form of government, the brighter sides of malaria and Dengy fever, and the ability for both stainless steel and fiberglass to rust.

One of the more amusing things about this area is the large number of building devoted to Jesus's testicles. Now, you may not know this, but "testicle" comes from the word testity. More accurately it would be "to give witness". The Romans referred to their nuts as "little witnesses". It's a kind of cute way of considering the family jewels, thinking of them both just hanging around watching all that porn, but up close like.

Well, in an interesting twist of language, Jehovah's Witnesses, when translated into Spanish, tends to also bring up a delightful mental picture. I can't help but smile every time I drive past one of the numerous white buildings that, roughly translated, say "Testicles Of Jesus". It just brings up this image of a room full of devot school girls, all down on their knees, hands clasped in front of their chins in prayer, worshiping our lord's nutsack. I know that if I'd died for all man's sins, that would be my idea of heaven. Maybe this religion thing ain't all bad after all?

Oh, and another thing that I've seen down here that makes me wonder are the Coca Cola signs. Now, lots of things go better with Coke, like cheerleaders, Congressional Aids, and evangelical preachers, but I'm yet to get what exactly they are advertising here. I've noticed these weird signs through out Managua, Leon and Chinandega. I mean, sure, Viagra is great with a lot of things, but I just don't see the marketing connection. I can only imagine what those marketing gurus will team up with Mountain Dew.

Speaking of words I don't understand, I've also made friends with Jeff and Stephanie, on "Musetta", a beautiful mono hull with an elegant interior. Apparently Musetta was a major character in an opera that if I had gone to a better school I would recognize. AnnMarie knew this right away. I thought that Musetta was some kind of Mustard.

Anyway, they are currently sailing their boat to the Panama canal and hope to cruise the Caribbean next year. As it turns out, they started out from the same marina as us, and have kept their boat in Emery Cove for years. They berthed on G dock, which is the other side of the marina from us, and we never seemed to have crossed paths. For such a big world, it is surprising how small it can be. We have bumped into no less that six other boats from our marina. Amazing.

It also turns out that they are "Foodies" with a capital FOOD, and Stephanie is one of the best shipboard cooks I've ever met. Without the least effort they throw together fantastic meals, made all the better when compared to the gray burger fare to which I've become accustomed. This has turned out to be a bargaining chip because, while I am incapable of cooking anything more complicated than octopus, pineapple and mayonnaise surprise, they have very limited electronics expertise. They had several problems with their computer and some other electronics equipment they'd been trying to install, so we've worked out a "will consult for food" deal, where I charge them by the salad. I've also taken to sneaking over to their boat when they are away and disconnecting things to insure a constant supply of great meals. Sadly, they are leaving in a few days, and I'll have to go back to my traditional canned food bonanza. Unfortunately, Jeff knows too much about diesel engines or I think I could keep them around even longer.

They are definitely interesting people and a cut above the average duck. I had said as much to them, in a conversation we were having about cruisers, where I suggested that most cruisers I've met tended to be pretty far outside the "normal" curve. They both seemed surprised to hear me say this, and protested, saying "Oh, we're pretty normal. We don't think we are that unusual at all." This was pretty early on in the conversation that evening, and I just shrugged and nodded. We then continued on talking about their boat, their trip, and what all they had been up to. Stephanie went on to describe how they had decided to make their own cushions. Now, lots of folks make their own cushions (and usually they end up looking like it), but my "normal" friends decided to add an embroidery pattern that matched other features of the boat, so they bought a sewing machine and she taught herself how to do this, first embroidering the fabric, then sewing it into cushions and pillows. The result was as good as any work I've seen done professionally.

Okay, that's just one thing. That doesn't make them that unusual, you might say. True, but it was only the tip of the anal-retentive, over-achiever ice berg. The interior of the boat is trimmed out in brass. They polish it. All of it. It looks brand new. There isn't an item out of place, a speck of dirt, a wire mislaid. Everything is perfect. And these are cruisers! Living full time on board and sailing about, and yet their environment is beautiful, elegant and spotless. Jeff, who knew nothing about sailing, engines, mechanics, electrical repair, navigation, etc., taught himself pretty much everything they needed to know to keep a boat going. This is no small feat, especially for someone without prior experience or specific aptitude for it. Stephanie decided to take a course in olive oil tasting. She ended up being something of an expert in it, able to determine which grade of oil it is from its smell alone. As the night progressed I learned more and more of their achievements. At some point I said "Oh, I'm so glad to hear that you are both normal. I'd hate to think what you would be like if you weren't."

From that point on I teased them about being over the top, and it became one of the running jokes between us. Another was a dress Stephanie wore one evening. To me it looked like there was a kind of a pattern of the "Star Trek Enterprise" logo on it. No one else thought it did, but it became a constant source of amusement to what her blush when ever we asked her what was on her butt. Again, cruising is mostly location jokes. You had to be there. But we laughed constantly and their company was a true delight for us. We are both looking forward to getting together with them in Emeryville when they get back, and introducing each other to our favorite restaurants

Well, all this talk of food is making me hungry, so I'm off to grab some gray burgers, cold French Fries and a warm soda. Hope your food fare is at least as exciting.

Cheers for now.

Robb

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Saturday, April 14, 2007

Arriving in Aruba!


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Land Ahoy!!

We arrived in Aruba around 11:30 on Monday, April 9th. The sail over was mostly uneventful.
We had a stiff breeze (20 knots gusting to 30) almost dead astern with a following sea on our quarter, which made for some tricky helm work. When ever you are running that close to the wind there is always the possibility of an accidental jibe (where the boom gets back winded and slams from one side of the boat to the other) which can be very expensive if not life threatening, given the very large size of our main sail. To prevent this we used a very complex device called a "preventer". It consists of a fifteen foot long line tied to the end of the boom at one end, and lashed to a stern cleat at the other. This forces the boom to one side. You can still unintentionally jibe, but the boom won't fly across the boat. Its kind of tacky to use, but it works, especially with a new crew.

Our course out of Trinidad had us following the coast about 70 miles off shore. Given the wind direction and our lack of a spinacker (a sail designed especially for sailing down wind) we had to tack back and forth a couple of times before we reached the island. We had to sail around the top (northern most) part of the island and then down along side its western shore to reach the main port of Oranjastad. At first we weren't certain where to go so we drove around a bit looking for the Customs Dock. We eventually were told to pull up along side this cement pier and wait. A few minutes later two customs officials drove up in a car and checked us in. It took less than 3 minutes and they never left their vehicle. Then an Immigration official showed up in another car and drove me to the Immigrations office (less than a block away) and processed our papers. We were cleared into port in under a half hour, and there was absolutely no fees for anything. The difference between this landing and Trinidad couldn't have been more stark.

Aruba itself is basically a tourist attraction. It was formerly a Dutch colony (and is slowly working its way towards independence) so many of the names of things seem to be spelled with far too many consonants. Pulling into the harbor we passed an enormous cruise liner. You just can't believe how large those ships can be. It had a fifty foot high TV screen on the top deck that we could clearly see from the harbor. It also had an ice rink, bowling alley and several swimming pools, yet as soon as the boat pulls up there is a stampede of passengers trying to get off. Each day a new cruise liner pulls in and unloads thousands of pasty white, middle class Americans wearing very bad shorts. Aruba is littered with them.

Once cleared through customs and immigration we parked the boat at the local casino's marina. A young man by the name of Nageen (who worked for the marina) came up and explained that it was a holiday so the marina was closed, but we could stay there and check in tomorrow. He then managed to get our power and water lines turned on. This was on his day off, he just happened to be at the dock waiting for a friend. This kind of service stunned us - if this were Trinidad we'd of had to sail back out to sea and wait until next week! Pretty much everyone we dealt with on the island was like this. Helpful, happy, hardworking, outgoing.

We asked him about security at the dock, and if it was safe to leave our boat unattended. He looked at us as if we were asking if water is wet, then pointed out the twenty or so security cameras that lined the docks. "There is no safer place on this island" he said, "the casino doesn't like crime". He was right. If there was any problem with muggings or theft we never heard tell of them. The island is sort of like a Caribbean Disney World for adults. There wasn't much in the way of amenities for cruisers per se, but it is definitely an island for rich tourists.

We spent the rest of the day relaxing in the marina's two pools and waiting for AnnMarie to arrive. She had been visiting her folks in Florida and was due to fly in around 3pm. When we checked in with her we found out that her flight had been canceled, so she wouldn't arrive until tomorrow. The next day she showed up, and we began getting ready to set sail. This meant taking on fuel and going through the checkout process with Customs and Immigration. We were told we needed to sail over to the next dock for fuel. We didn't understand which dock and ended up at the wrong one. A few minutes later a woman from the marina drove over to us, got on board and directed us to the correct dock. She then escorted me through the Customs & Immigration process and even convinced them to allow me to stay a little longer after we checked out. This could never happen in Trinidad.

We got the boat fueled up, and were ready to go when we noticed that the fuel gauge wasn't reading correctly. It turned out to be a faulty sensor, but in the process Mota noticed that some fuel lines we'd installed last week were leaking a bit, so we decided to change them out. This ended up taking several more hours. We stayed at the dock until almost midnight, yet no one complained or charged us more for it - even though we were supposed to be gone by noon. It really was an amazing place, and if you are ever sailing past I recommend it highly. From what we were told the island has thousands of great dive sites, and there is no end of beautiful beaches around it.

We set sail and are now headed for Panama. Up until now the crew had been getting used to the routine of sailing. Now everyone knows exactly what to do, when to take a shift, and what needs to happen. It is mostly dull. Until something goes wrong. Today we lost the autopilot. That means that each watch has to actually steer the boat. This doesn't sound like all that big a deal, until you've been spoiled by an autopilot for several hundred miles and are suddenly forced to man the helm in thirty knots of wind and a nasty cross current. What were relatively peaceful shifts are now work. I tried to determine what had failed - it appears as if the rudder angle sensing unit has gone bad. I tried rinsing it with alcohol and letting it dry. This got it working again for a few more hours, but it started acting up again. I'll need to replace it once we get to Panama.

During the day we had good winds (around 20 knots) and smallish swells, but tonight the wind has picked up to 30 knts and the seas have gotten bigger. Every few minutes a wave slams into the side of the boat and makes everything in the salon bounce straight up. Its called "bridge deck slap" and sounds like someone is smashing the bottom of the boat with a giant hammer. We haven't seen much traffic at all, a few freighters here and there, nor have we spotted any other sea creatures (except Jen said she saw a turtle) and we have been completely unsuccessful in catching any fish. We are forced to eat the meager rations we brought on board, including such hard tack as deli lunch meats, fresh fruit salad, mac'n'cheese, cool whip and other such gruel.

At one point we stopped to test the sea anchor. It is a largish parachute like arrangement you release off the bow when the wind/waves are so severe you can't safely sail. A line is tied from it to the bow of the boat, and it allows the boat to drift slowly backwards (maybe a half a knot) while keeping the bow pointed into the wind. If ever you're in a really bad storm and just need to stop and rest, this is the just the ticket. We'd never used it before so I wanted to see how easy it was to deploy (it was very simple) and how well it worked (it worked great). Since we were sixty miles from anything, and just drifting in the sea, we decided to jump overboard and go for a swim. If you've never done this before, I recommend it highly. There is something magical about being in several thousand feet of water with no land in site and swimming around naked.

Afterwards we had a great meal and began sailing again. We are still several hundred miles from Panama, but are on track and hope to arrive in a day or two. I'm not sure how many of the crew can stay for the journey through the canal, it all depends on what we find out when we get there. Needless to say, it has been a wonderful time at sea, we've enjoyed each others company and remain unmolested by pirates, Trinidadian Customs Agents or the US Coast Guard. It looks like we might be sailing into a local storm tonight, but otherwise we are doing well.

We'll keep you posted on our progress.

Cheers,

Robb

Oh, for those that care, our location is N12.20.66 W074.10.31. We're the white catamaran with the naked people running around on top.


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