Log of the s/v Clarity

Sailing all Day in Key West!

2011-01-22T15:50:00.000-08:00

We rented a Hobie 16 from the Sunset Watersports guys on Smathers Beach Saturday. The best deal ending up being a beach pass, which gave us unlimited access to whatever toys they have for the whole day. The guys had a hard time accepting that neither of us was interested in parasailing. They asked at least three time if we were sure we didn't want to go and each time said, "Well, you can make up your mind about it later. The last boat goes out at 4."

I think they were shaking their heads as we walked away at 4 and headed back to town on our bikes.

The wind was great the whole time, blowing out of the North, steady 15 kts early and gusting up to 20. In the afternoon, toward the end of our second session, we got a nice sustained 20+ kt wind and we were about two inches away from flying the windward hull. Very fun, thrilling beam reach!

I can see why they are warm-weather boats, however. The water flys around and with the sun mostly hiding behind clouds, Kris was chicken-skinned from head-to-toe for most of our sailing.

I ditched my shirt and I've got a nice red-tint to my skin. Happy for a sunburn on my Willamette Valley winter skin.

We saw a trio of keelboats working West a bit outside of where we were, so we sailed right out to them and gybed onto their line. We passed all three of them in short order. They all had their Key West Race Week placards on their bows and looked to be in the 20' range. Not sure what class/boattype, though. (Addendum: looks like they were J 80s.)

The Hobie is pretty easy to get caught in irons, we found out quickly. Tacking into the wind is a touchy business and we spent a bit of time blaming each other. Me certain that Kris wasn't working the jib properly through the turn and Kris repeating, "What did you do?" each time we'd heave up and stall.

We gybed okay, however, so tried to approach everything that way. Which would looked funny when we had to sail back to the beach, directly into the wind, and do loops at each of our tacking points. But maybe experienced sailors thought we were just showing off ...

We will probably try it again on Monday and see if we can master the Hobie Cat tack.

We ended the day with a bottle of rum and a game of dominoes in the galley onboard Appledore. Looking forward to sailing on that boat this afternoon.

Planting Spars

2011-01-17T15:24:00.000-08:00

The girls and I spent MLK Day planting trees with the local chapter of the Friends of Trees. Well, maybe we just spent the morning. That's not bad, though.

We put in two rhododendrons and four Ponderosas, after the girls ate a donut that looked like a battle between a bottle of Nyquil and a bottle of Pepto-Bismol had transpired on top; nuclear blue vs. I-Dream-of-Jeannie pink.

Followed it all up with a pint o' Mirror Pond and the Miss Piggy at Flying Pie Pizza. Can't go wrong with smoked ham, Italian sausage, and pepperoni all smashed together on top of a pizza.

Less than 72 hrs from now we will be landing in Key West. I expect to be working through my first half-dozen rum runners in about 72 hrs, while listening to the Race Week participants tell stories at the village on Greene St.

Sunshine, c'mon!

Abstraction Leads to Neglect

2011-01-14T16:13:00.000-08:00

We've been making slow progress on our transition from dinghy sailors to keelboat owner/sailors. We quit the sailing club a couple of months back and have been waiting on spring to spruce up Love and Coconuts and put her up for sale.

Not a lot to talk about on the sailing front then. That, coupled with lots of job and life transitions and has, um, well taking the wind out of our sailing blogs.

I could go into the boring details of finance-finagling, but suffice it to say, they ARE boring details. We move glacially toward the liveaboard boat, with our eyes on minimizing costs to get there, in hopes of maximizing our time sailing.

This is all so abstract. I'm much happier with sensation-driven writing.

Fingers crossed that more of that is coming soon.

Key West in six days!

Book Review: Always a Distant Anchorage - Hal Roth

2010-11-07T08:28:00.000-08:00

Since I launched into this undertaking two years ago, the two cruising writers I heard most frequently mentioned were Eric Hiscock and Hal Roth. I have a set of Hiscock's books on the night table and expect to get at them this winter and I just finished my first Hal Roth book last week. Always a Distant Anchorage is the retelling of Hal's and his wife Margaret's circumnavigation from Maine, through the Panama and Suez canals onboard their yacht Whisper.

I have read a couple dozen books about people's sailing adventures. More than any other genre, it seems that sailing a long distance inspires even the most pedestrian of writers to put pen to paper (digit to digital input interface?) and tell their tale sailing. Of those, Hal stands out as a guy with the most solid of writing skills.

This guy can tell a story. I was riveted from start to finish, even taking the book along with me to work, which I don't often do. It was easy to pick up and read for short bit, or again for longer stretches and it was loaded with both a mix of immediate and interesting adventures, reflection on the lifestyle and experiences, and background on the places and people they encountered.

This particular book also offers a nice blend of sublime moments in beautiful oceanside settings and adrenalin-inducing moments of risk and uncertain outcome, as when Hal and Margaret run up on a reef that their chart mistakenly mis-mapped.

Two thumbs up, highly recommend! Kris is reading it now.

Colette

2010-08-29T10:03:00.001-07:00

A former colleague and friend died this weekend. Colette was young, in her thirties, and one of the most vibrant people I know. I wasn't very close to her and her family. I would have liked to have been closer. When I worked with Colette, I always enjoyed the parts of projects where I got to work side-by-side with her.

People always talk about her positivity and her energy.

If eyes are the window to the soul, then Colette's eyes betrayed a bright, happy soul. I remember her in a little black cocktail dress, when my wife-to-be (our future together unbeknown to either of us, or at least me) and the rest of the women who worked on a floor in our office we fondly referred to as the Lido Deck, hosted a company party by outfitting the place like a swanky lounge and greeting the rest of the company in a line of similarly attired hostesses, offering silver trays of hors d'oeuvres as we entered.

She will always live in my memory as a pair of sparkling eyes.

I ran into Colette socially, on occasion, too; Portland is a small town, after all. I shared a drink with her at a housewarming party, when Kris moved into her downtown condo. I recall seeing her on fifth avenue, arm-in-arm with Michael, who I hadn't met yet, waiting for a bus. My impression was that they would have been happy if the bus never came and they would have stood there all night, canoodling each other on a beautiful Portland evening.

How do we spend our time? The minutes filled with memory and experience because we are here, now? Or does the hour-hand move too slow on our way to the next thing?

I know that, partly, that image stuck with me because I wanted that in my life. I wanted that love from a partner who wanted to meet me and be my match. Michael and Colette, in that moment, modeled that thing I knew was possible; that thing I wanted and found not too long after.

So, what do you say when a young, beautiful woman dies much too soon?

I wept a bit for her small children. I felt a hollowness for her husband, who has so passionately advocated for her over the course of fighting this disease for over a year. I felt the warmth of my wife's tears on my shoulder, as we recalled our moments with Colette over the past seven years; most of those moments piled up early on.

I don't feel like saying goodbye, because I can still feel the bright blaze behind those beautiful eyes. How about see you later? Let's catch up again, my friend.

I think I'd rather leave it somewhere like that.

Paellas, Pies, and IPAs

2010-06-20T06:53:00.000-07:00

I won't spend too much time in the bloggers hair shirt, but I've been consumed with working two jobs lately in the hopes of shortening our timeline to get into a keel boat. So, time for blogging has been consumed by paying projects.

I do want to join in on Carol Anne's food writer challenge. I have three meals I've made in the past couple of weeks that were new for me. First, I made a recipe for Fiesta Chicken out of a recent issue of Cruising magazine. Came out pretty good, but no pictures to prove it. More fun, and more interesting to me, however, I did steamed clams and a paella twice in the last week. First time around I used a nice bulk chorizo from a local grocery and it was nearly a perfect meal. The heat was not overwhelming, but it definitely inspired me to tilt the IPA bottle quicker a couple of times. The second time I made the meal, the kids were here, so had to spice it down. The grocery man had a nice Spanish chorizo that was very mild and worked well for a kiddie meal; it was in tube form, so I put the kids to work helping me peel away the casing and break up the sausage. I'm not as interested in that one, so let's get on to the one I am~

I spent my teenage years around New Orleans and love well-spiced foods. What I ate down there growing up was done nearly exactly like my paella recipe. Unfortunately, nearly everywhere outside of NOLA that I try for their Cajun or Creole recipes, substitutes well-spiced with over-spiced. Simply stomping on the chili pepper accelerator does not make something Cajun, my friends.

As for the beer part of the meal, I was trying to some beer pairing. The guys I was preparing dinner for are friends with which I've been doing a meal once a month for a few years. We've gotten pretty good at sharing some great wines and have even gone in to purchase some wines together. I wanted to take a break from all of that classiness and notch it down a bit. Anybody can pair wines, or find out how to do it.

My challenge was figuring out what beer paired well with each aspect of the meal. So, for the salty appetizers (thinly sliced Serrano ham and steamed clams), I chose a dry Irish stout. It was local, so not Guinness or Murphys, but probably a better choice.

For the main paella course, the IPA was a perfect balance with the hoppy-ness able to cut through the heat of the chorizo and peppers. The IPAs I used were from Ninkasi (I looked them up, expecting the name to be a mashup of some sort; turns out, Ninkasi is the Greek goddess of fermentation. So, say your prayers!), a brewery in Eugene, Oregon (Track City U.S.A., if you didn't know...). I had the Spring Reign seasonal, the Double Red, and, what is currently my favorite beer, Total Domination IPA. I know that the first two don't have IPA in their names, but trust me, their IBUs were well into IPA territory.

I loved making the paella. It is very close to my jambalaya recipe that I've been using for thirty years. I went and got a carbon steel paella pan that I'll keep and use often. However, I think you could probably do the whole thing in a wok just as easily. It seems the key is getting the heat evenly distributed as you work your way through the process of adding ingredients and letting them soak up the oils and saute.

The final course was a raw-foods pie that my friend the doctor brought along. We had a Belgian Lambic dark cherry that had a lovely balance between the light fizzy body and the fruit flavor.

I went here for my paella recipe and here for the steamed clams.

Dolphins Under My Bed - Sandra Clayton

2010-05-22T07:58:00.000-07:00

This book makes me say 'meh.' I enjoyed the concept--husband and wife sailing away in middle age--and most of the sailing-related narrative was well done, especially the waterspouts they were chased by and the vagaries of passage-making. However, speaking of vagaries, the pace of the book is bogged down with the regularly interspersed little vignettes in which this woman would complain about the annoyances she encountered in each new port of call. It was pretty obvious she missed the familiarities of home. It was also pretty obvious that she's one of those sorts of English people you don't want to meet. The sort who have a permanent facial expression seeming to ask the question, "Who farted?"

In the Year 2025

2010-04-25T09:04:00.001-07:00

My participation in Homme de Talleur's latest group writing project.

In the year 2025 the most interesting thing about sailing will be Kris and I out there cruising for our tenth year. Interesting to whom, you ask? Well, to me of course.

And away we go...

Happy Birthday, Proper Course

2010-02-17T14:40:00.000-08:00

I didn't start this, but I'm jumping onboard. Blame frogma.

There was an old man from Sakonnet
He moved there to sail in his bonnet
A Laser it was
Blogging he does
Now he's five years older, doggone-it!

Somebody needs to work on the Tillerman-TeaPartyBagging angle ...

Bonnie started it. I joined in. And now it's official, because everybody's favorite commenter, has composed an opus.

And another from Pandabonium (best name ever!). For those scoring at home, this IS a haiku, since it does mention something with regard to the season and offers a surprise (aha!) moment in each line.

And, finally (finally because it's last here and it took me forever to find it; which is a testament to my skills with my google), this resonant beauty from Zen.

The Princess and the Boatshow

2010-01-13T23:57:00.001-08:00

I made it out to Excel in the Docklands for the London International Boat Show yesterday. It's a good-sized show and I was able to spend three hours solely on the sail side of the hall and still feel there was a bit more to see, were I to look closer and spend more time with some of the displays.

I looked at all of the boats, but only went aboard the Southerly 49 on display. I was impressed with the swing keel and was fortunate to have a naval architect as my tour guide. He was even more enthusiastic about opening everything up and looking at how it was put together and talking about how things worked. Loved the washing machine tucked in behind the owner's head.

One feature of the Southerly I really liked was the raised salon table and the narrow galley along the starboard bulkhead. I could see this working well underway.

I saw a large military presence at the show, including sailors and marines, and was told that Princess Anne [early readers who re-read may note that I've added an e to the Princesses Anne; later readers are left with this unnecessary note] was visiting. She's Chuck's sister.

To top it all off, I ended the day at the Duke's Head for supper and a drink with Captain JP.

I understand the Duke's Head is Adam's favorite. It's a good spot, but a longer walk from the train station than the Boathouse.

Excel-ling Tomorrow

2010-01-11T08:21:00.000-08:00

Arrived in London yesterday, despite Air Canada's best efforts to delay us on the frozen tundra of Alberta for an indefinitely long and white weekend. We made the best of our day+ stay in Calgary and have had our first pints in jolly olde.

The boat show tomorrow! It's at a venue here in London called Excel, hence (I'm using pommy conjunctions whilst amongst the speaker's of the King's English) my pun.

Some shots from our walk around town last night, whilst (!) trying to keep ourselves up and awake to adapt to the time change.

I especially like this front view. There was a very light snow falling and I think it gave the sky the special purplish glow you can see here.

The iPhone occasionally takes an exceptionally great picture that surprises you. These shots of Westminster Abbey from side and front, plus that of the tower clocky thing, came out kinda arty.

State of the Union

2009-12-27T18:53:00.000-08:00

It's Omphaloskepsis season, so let's all lift our shirts and begin gazing at our navels!

For the record, things are going as strong as ever in the Love and Coconuts household, with regards to our bringing our dream to life. We have been slogging along with domestic chores here in the off-season, working toward our financial goals that will put us in a bigger boat sometime in the next 6-18 months.

Don't worry about us too much, however, because our priorities are in order. We took two weeks to go thaw out on Maui in late November. We expect to limit our trips next year with the goal of spending more time on the water in the dinghy, as well as doing what we need to get into a keelboat.

We'll be traveling to London in early January, where Kris will do lots of work-type things, while Greg works on getting into the Excel boatshow and checking out the new season's offerings.

After that, the hope is that we get a couple of decent days, with some semi-warm weather and some early season sailing.

Our best to everyone in the new year!

Aloha!

Voyaging the Pacific - Miles Hordern

2009-12-11T17:44:00.000-08:00

Just finished this one and found myself stringing it out, the last third. I was enjoying the location, maybe more than the writing. Although, I found it well written. Miles is a pom living in New Zealand and he embarks on a trip across the Southern Ocean, which is a large part of the book. He talks a lot about the expanse of ocean, the history of it, and more, while also doing a good job of putting you right in the cockpit and the cabin of his single-handed 28-footer.

He eventually runs into the South American continent and winds up helping on a mapping effort in the many islands, sounds, and waterways of the Chilean coast. He manages to evoke the place in a way that again puts you right there with him.

Eventually, Miles bears off to the North and then picks up the Trades and heads west. I found it quite interesting how many places he sailed right past; in the spirit of Moitessier, Mr. Hordern seemed happier to slip on past and keep to see.

My first experience of the Gambier Islands was through his writing here.

I found the bibliography to be a treasure trove of titles that I expect to tackle soon. There appear to be a couple editions of this out there, one of which has a variation on this title.

viagra salespeople and chinese sailing fans

2009-11-30T13:02:00.000-08:00

Owing to the large amount of comment traffic that I just can't translate, I'm turning the captcha back on. I hope this doesn't mess up your sales plans or ability to post repeated chinese character comments.

love, greg

This post has been removed by the auteur

2009-11-09T19:54:00.001-08:00

Who's got the sailing hookup on Maui?

2009-11-08T10:51:00.000-08:00

Anybody know some good sailing connections on Maui? I see many of these snorkel and champagne things going on, but no true sailing, other than the America II.

Recycled Adventure

2009-11-06T16:09:00.000-08:00

I posted this one a little over a year ago when I launched this dinghy adventure.

... and I want some comments this time, my friends. Otherwise, I'm hunger-striking, or something like that.

Run for your lives!

2009-10-31T13:32:00.001-07:00

Happy Halloween!

Identity

2009-10-29T14:41:00.000-07:00

A blogger who I've enjoyed reading thanks to a Tillerman tip, is calling for a writing project regarding identity. This guy, called something like Walter Mitty, gives an interesting account of what inspired him to ask everyone to write about identity. Then he calls for the following:

I want to hear about an aspect of your cultural identity and to counterpoint that, an aspect of the rivalry with another group that surely must, by definition, exist alongside it.

I was struck by this idea and after reading Walter's call for submissions I was puzzling it over as I drove to pick up my kids from school. In the car Teri Gross was interviewing a Pakistani man who'd moved to the US at a young age and has found himself searching for a deeper understanding of his identity, which is a mix of an American identity and a Muslim in America, as well as a struggle with who he is when he goes back to Pakistan for the occasional visit.

I think Americans are, by definition and necessity, at a constant crossroads of identity-seeking. My own story in America is only three generations old on my dad's side. My great-grandfather having sailed from Cork to San Francisco in 1886. My dad's maternal side came around the same time and ended up in the same Irish neighborhood in SF.

On my mom's side, there are similar stories, including one set of ancestors who sailed to Panama, which was a common thing to do, walked across the isthmus and sailed up to SF. However, they had their walk interrupted by civil war in Panama, which turned their 2-3 week trek, into a year-long odyssey.

Many of my Irish ancestors were escaping abject poverty, overcrowded homes, and severely limited futures.

My grandmother also traces roots to Captain John Smith, who's middle name may or may not have been Randy, as he seems to have quite a prolific family tree in the waning centuries of his North American adventures.

So, there's the background for me being dropped here in the Western US in the late 20th century. I've got a pretty solid grip on my cultural heritage, however, smoothly translating that into an identity starts to get a little squirrely when I think about the geographical aspects of who I am.

My dad joined the Air Force and I was born on Edwards Air Force Base in Southern California's Mojave Desert. Two years later, we found ourselves in Alaska for a three-year stretch. After that, I spent spots of time in the range of 2-4 years in Salt Lake City, Colorado, Texas, the Mississippi Gulf Coast, and Oregon.

Some years in Hawaii, a few in New York City, and one in Florida round out four-plus decades of itchy feet.

What is my American identity and how is it influenced by rivalry? I got beat up for being a Catholic in Mormon country, a Yankee in Texas, and white in Mississippi, which is plenty of rivalry; none of which I chose. I eventually learned how to stick up for myself and figured out no matter where you go, if you're not careful, you'll find the person who has a problem with you.

I'm not sure I'll ever understand the Texas perspective on what a Yankee is. I tried to explain to the guys who jumped me when I was twelve, that my family was from Ireland, by way of California. Neither place had anything to do with the Civil War. I think Yankee may just mean "doesn't sound like me," or "arrived here from a bearing generally North."

Ultimately, I feel like my identity is in many ways influenced by geography, including the landscapes of the West; the seascapes of the Gulf of Mexico; the reefs I surf in Hawaii; and my urban American living.

Cars and long-distance drives through American landscapes are a large part of my identity, which is what guys like Wim Wenders and Jim Jarmusch are trying to tell me, I believe, with the quantity and quality of those shots in their films.

I served in the Navy and sailed around the Pacific Rim, hitting ports on the way. I went through the Moluccan Straights and into the Indian Ocean, which still inspires dreams of The Maldives.

I have three daughters and a son, who certainly influence my identity, as do my sister, three brothers, and my parents. Although, as I grow older, I find the influence of my family of origin fading and more like a memory I take out of storage occasionally, than any sort of anchor.

My children, on the other hand, reflect back to me who I want to be, my struggles to become that person, the ways I've succeeded and the ways I've come up short.

To bring it back to Mr. Mondale, I imagine a guy with a thoroughly English-sounding name, living in a small village in the UK, probably has a pretty deeply-rooted sense of his own identity from the geographical and historical perspectives, and it's curious to me, what that must be like. In what ways is it limiting and in what ways is it empowering?

I'm sure that the freedom to move and change and, in some ways choose my identity, that I'm afforded here in America is something that I may never be able to put a value on. I know it's the one thing I want to give my kids.

In other ways, I wonder what it would be like to have a home and an identity that are less ephemeral.

Perspective

2009-10-17T11:52:00.000-07:00

I found this on another blog I follow. I'm recaptioning (and making up a new word in the process).
New caption: Well, Ollie, I look at it like this ...

Post O Joy

2009-10-13T19:21:00.000-07:00

We've sort of gone into hibernation here at the future of the sailing vessel Clarity. Part of our desire to sail outta here is that both Kris and I have had it with winters. If you know anything about real winters and you know anything about Great Northwet winters, you'll think we are real wimps.

Which we may well be.

Winters are very temperate here, which is part of the appeal. However, we don't want anything to do with seasons anymore. Give us a sun over head for twelve hours and leave the dang leaves on the tree.

So, we are doing all of the household stuff for fall prep and counting down the days to Maui. 37 for me and 39 for Kris. I like that math.

On the boat front, we are still working steadily toward making a choice and getting our finances in order to purchase and eventually move aboard full-time.

All of which adds up to why we are slacking on the sailing and posting front. Greg's picking up extra writing work and draining his wit for The Man every day. None left in the evening.

Looking forward to some sun and some breathing room.

Cap'n JP!

2009-09-28T21:40:00.000-07:00

So, yesterday was World Rivers Day and our favorite Putney Bridge pub host is prodding us all to post with regards to this important event.

What did we do? Instead, we rode the Harley 300 miles to a little Bavarian-themed town in the Northern Washington Cascades to help them kick off the Oktoberfest season. They couldn't have done it without us. They would have sold approximately two gallons less of beer, and 2-3 pounds of german-themed meat products would have had to wait a couple of minutes for someone else to come along and eat them, instead of us.

All of this beer drinking, and meat eating took place on the amazingly beautiful Wenatchee River, which drains into the Columbia and fills up a couple of damns that generate some power that pay my bills.

We are grateful for some awe-inspiring rivers here in Oregon Country. And we are grateful that the Willamette doesn't require a typhoid shot, most of the time anymore.

It's Business Time

2009-09-13T07:54:00.000-07:00

Annual check-in meeting due this month ... or next. Kris and I are due to review our plan again. We'll take a weekend day and spend 3-4 hours checking where we are at, what's been accomplished, what's at risk, and what are next steps are. That's right, my friends, it's back to bidness time.

Results to follow!

The Salvage Effort Continues

2009-08-11T15:55:00.000-07:00

After the events of November 8, 2008, Kris and I mapped out a slow road to recovery for the girls. Joining the sailing club was step one; the hope being to get them around the water more often, and especially with other kids who sail and may inspire the girls to get back out on the water. With that in mind, I took the girls to the club on Monday night, the three of us intending to meet Kris after work.

Last night went well, in the other-kid regard. When we arrived at the club, Kris was already down at the dock, even though the mass of folks had gathered up on the hill. I think she was driven down there by the shorebound antics of the Laser fleet. With extremely light and variable wind, the bulk of the laserettes were up on the cliff yelling abuse at the race committee and the handful of laser sailors attempting to launch their boats.

We found Kris and then wandered back to the boat launch area where a precocious young lady, about 2 years older than A and M, was working her way down the ramp, deeper into the water, while holding onto the dock.

She told us she was looking for a 'daggerboard' that one of the sailors had dropped. A and M were very intrigued and pretty soon, with a bit of encouragement from the kid, they were hip deep with their new friend Sierra, all three engaged in an active, vocal recovery operation.

As the salvage progressed, they came up with an unopened bottle of Red Dog beer. If you clicked that link and read to the end, all I can say is, "I dunno." I didn't have access to this information prior to viewing the bottle cap. Or maybe I don't have much imagination. I read a lot of Batman comics as a kid, but I think the thrill for me was a sort of empowerment fantasy, rather than, well, let's just call it: the author's particular bent.

Anyway, after a half-hour or so of dagger recovery operations, (which I later found out from The Tillerman was more likely a rudder recovery operation, owing to the fact that Laser daggerboards are designed to float) the team shifted interest toward the rush of Laser sailors who were now trying to launch as the wind had come up and the race committee were dropping buoys.

Sierra offered to push a couple of the Lasers out and quickly jumped in the water to do just that. M followed close behind and the two of them created a proper nuisance in the midst of the Laser launchings. It was beautiful.

After everybody was underway, one of the race committee boats returned to the dock and the girls invited themselves along to 'help out.' I gave the guy in the boat an out, asking him if it was okay if the girls went along. He cleared it and away they went for at least an hour.

They acted as the escort boat when the Portland Spirit came through on its evening upriver run. They also waved flags and wreaked havoc on the high seas, I'm certain. The boat driver was nonplussed, however, on return. We delivered him a beer and told him we probably owed him two. He was happy to enjoy it with us and sat down to chat. With roots in Florida, our new friend, turns out, grew up in Kingston, Jamaica.

All in all, a good day at the club. Next step, getting the kids on the dinghy again. I think Sierra helped our case when she told the girls, "I love to do capsize drills. Want to do some capsize drills? They are the best!"

I can feel the perspective shifting.

Book Review: Rounding the Horn

2009-08-04T20:55:00.001-07:00

Loved it! Absolutely.

Dallas Murphy's Round the Horn is a wonderful mix of travelogue, exploration, sailing, geography, history, sociology, meteorology, and some cooking. His subtitle says most of it: Being a story of Williwaws and Windjammers, Drake, Darwin, Murdered Missionaries and Naked Savages--A deck's eye view of Cape Horn.

I found it to be a fantastic read; couldn't wait to pick it up and dive back in, wherever I was. Murphy did his research on this one and presents us with great collection of insights into the place and the human events that took place there over the past 500 years. Read this one and you'll have the best possible insight into the mysteries of Tierra del Fuego and the struggles to master the winds and seas throughout the past couple of centuries.

I give it my top rating, whatever that is. Some stars? A handful! Some thumbs? Another handful.

Read it.

Book Review: We the Navigators - The Ancient Art of Landfinding in the Pacific

2009-07-11T07:14:00.000-07:00

I'm about halfway through this one and enjoying it immensely, although I don't know that I would recommend it to most. David Lewis is the author, and he turns out to be quite a prolific writer, mostly covering things Polynesian.

Born on some island off the coast of France, Mr. Lewis was raised in New Zealand and Rarotonga, where he attended a Polynesian school. He later studied to become a doctor and after many years practicing medicine, including some involvement of the establishment of the British National Health Service, he set off to circumnavigate the world in a sailboat and then into a second career as a sailor. He built his own catamaran and completed the first recorded circumnav of the world in a multihull.

Maybe you all know these things, but he's new to me and most interesting for his disciplined study of Polynesian navigation methods. I was fascinated by the concept of navigating without instruments and have always wanted to know more about how the Pacific Islanders moved about and established themselves in such an enormous expanse of open ocean with no modern navigation tools.

This book does an excellent job (so far) of detailing how the indigenous sailors of the Pacific use only the things they can see to determine where to find land.

With tribal knowledge passed on through rote learning, the subjects of Dr. Lewis's study seem to be able to establish their location by stars and sun position and then maintain course through periods of cloud cover by orienting themselves to the running ocean swells. Coupled with the detailed drawings and explanations of the primitive sailing vessels they piloted, the scientific research approach to understanding the navigation methods is turning into quite a page-turner for me.

If my life was not so much on the go these days, I'd love to write more of these reviews. I've got a stack of about twenty books lined up to read, many of a similar sort as this one. And I've got another twenty that I've read in the past nine months that have mostly been recaps of sailors trips around the world.

Thanks T-man.

Addendum: Some Older Reviews
A Family Cruise
A Family Cruise Gone Horribly Awry - NOT a light read

RKJ Day

2009-04-22T17:52:00.000-07:00

Sir Robin Knox-Johnston became the first person to sail around the world non-stop and single-handed forty years ago today, April 22, 1969 when he crossed that finish line in Falmouth, UK, completing the Golden Globe Yacht race.

Today is Robin Knox-Johnston Day on the Web.

Earth Day, Sea Day, it's all good.

The Search Continues

2009-03-26T04:54:00.000-07:00

I think the man of the dock of O has the right idea. I've been looking at some of these coastal cruisers, with their fancy wine racks, down at the yacht broker's docks, and they just don't seem to be working out. The Dread Pirate O recommended a nice looking older boat up in Washington. I think we are going to look more heavily in the Bay and Seattle/Canada, rather than around here.

It seems like we might be able to find something more suited to our current/future needs in the larger markets. It also seems we might be able to avoid dealing with a yacht broker, which, so far, doesn't seem to be a very satisfying experience.

We've made a couple of offers on boats and it has felt like we were serving their needs as foil, rather than them serving our needs with a little more transparent communication about the process. This last one was sorta odd and unsatisfying, although test sailing the boat was great.

Warning: Political Rant

2009-03-17T18:41:00.000-07:00

I just got my notice that my Oregon driver's license renewal is up and this time around I'm required to bring a sheaf of documentation with me to prove I'm an American citizen, living in Oregon, born on the date I claim, and equipped with the proper income-reporting documentation.

I've had an Oregon dl for 29 years and now I have to jump through this ridiculous set of hoops for what reason? To stop terrorists from legally driving cars in Oregon? To stop non-taxpayers from legally driving cars in Oregon? To stop Oregonians living in Idaho from driving cars in Oregon legally? To stop non-citizens from driving cars legally in Oregon?

Or is it more about some right-wing, protectionist nutjob attempting to put the kibosh on immigrants receiving driver's licenses in Oregon?

The upshot of all of this is that rather than mailing in my thirty-nine bucks every eight years and renewing, I now have to go stand in line at the epitome of bureaucracy to get a new picture taken and stand by while I'm approved as a taxpayer, Oregon resident, and properly documented citizen. To get into that line I'll now be putting myself on the road with a higher risk of driving amongst uninsured, unlicensed drivers.

I won't be proving that I know the proper stopping distance for pedestrians.

I won't be proving that I understand the new bicycle boxes at downtown intersections.

I won't be proving that I know the proper following distance, or when and how to use my turn indicators.

What happens if Oregon only requires you to show up and take a test and prove state residency, as they had done for the past 29 years of my driving experience? I think what happens is that we end up with a bunch of people driving cars in Oregon who live here and passed the same test as everyone else to get their license to drive cars in Oregon.

We put ourselves at less risk. If we were to do that, I'd be driving with a bunch of people who understand the bike boxes, use their turn signals, don't tailgate me in the Terwilliger curves, and flipping yield to me when I'm trying to get across the street with my children on foot.

Damn you, George Bush and all those like you.

Test Sail: Beneteau 323 - We Likey

2009-03-14T17:47:00.000-07:00

Almost a beautiful day for sailing. The wind was a healthy 15 knots and out of the South. The only bummer was it started raining toward the end and it was a bit cold.

The smile on Kris's face belies the cold.

Note the professional looking gloves, too.

We liked her a lot. Great wind today and we were able to hold a straight line up the river, turn into the wind follow the same line back downriver, hitting over 7 knots a couple of times on the upriver reach.

Part of Kris's sailing smile is attributable to the saloon table's six-bottle wine holder, which you can see right here in front of her.

The Pirate Blogger

2009-03-12T20:42:00.001-07:00

Pirate's sailed around under a fake flag and commandeered the ships they came across. I know a pirate blogger. He doesn't actually have his own blog, but he commenteers on others.

I miss him. Anybody seen him lately?

You know who you are.

Test Sail: Beneteau 323

2009-03-10T19:53:00.001-07:00

Kris and I are going to take this little beauty out on Saturday. She's not the world cruiser we expect to head for blue water in, but we are thinking a couple of years of river sailing in something like this, might be the best next step as we build our skills.

I think that future boat is going to be an Island Packet. Those boats really speak to me.

Anyway, this one is affordable for now, in great shape, and possesses the important things that Kris looks for in a boat: built-in wine racks.

Book Review: The Water in Between

2009-03-08T12:58:00.000-07:00

By Kevin Patterson.

A canuck doctor, carrying a heavy load of Northern Prairie ennui, and pining over a couple of lost love affairs, takes to sea in hopes of finding something in Tahiti. What's the something? He's not sure, but he spends a lot of time reading and thinking about the traveling he's doing.

I enjoyed it and got caught up in the narrative, as well as the dialogue he has with the books he reads along the way. His outward trip is undertaken with a guy he meets at the docks, a guy in a similar mopey-pining mood.

The other characters present for most of the trip are Bruce Chatwin and Paul Theroux. Patterson does a good job of mixing in his understanding of these guys and their writings, while contemplating his own desire to be out on this journey.

He's frank about his inexpert boathandling and some of the problems that arise from his mistakes. He also does a good job of putting you out there in the horse latitudes, as he and Don drift in the daily langour of the Pacific High.

Well-written and a good read if you like the long passages of other's work included with the descriptions of the people he meets along the way and the adventures they experience.

Interestingly, they end up going the hard way. Boat problems force them to head to Hawaii and they they have to beat back to the Cooks and Tahiti. Patterson returns to Canada to make some more money.

When he returns, he has brought a couple of recruits and they all sail the boat back to Hawaii together, where Patterson ends up alone, as the others must return to jobs. He singlehands back to B.C.

Book Review: Ten Degrees of Reckoning

2009-03-02T07:09:00.000-08:00

Just finished this one and I'm all out of tears. Sheesh. Family goes cruising and irresponsible log-carrying ship runs them over in the dark. Heartbreaking result.

It's a good story to know, but the details in the moments around the accident are so explicit and immediate that it's hard to bear.

I'll recommend it with the caveat to those who care about children will most likely find this nightmare inducing.

Two Sealanes Diverge

2009-02-21T20:52:00.000-08:00

So those of you who've been scoring at home know that Kris and I are looking for a liveaboard to make step one (or two) toward our new life of cruising.

Love and Coconuts is the dinghy that we picked up this past fall to work on important skills, like sailing a sailboat with sails, so we will be ready when buy the big boat. And this blog here, the original, is meant to track our progress toward making that big move.

We have seen a few boats and even made one offer, just because it seemed like a good chance to pick up something that might meet our needs for a great price.

Today we looked at a couple of big cruisers up in Seattle. The first, a 1995 Island Packet 45 is fantastic shape and fully kitted out for offshore cruising.

The second, a 1991 Tayana 55, would cost about $50k less, but would require about that invested to get it ready to go offshore.

The Tayana is very attractive and incredible. With a 16' beam, the saloon could probably double as a ballroom dance studio. And the master stateroom has a true walkaround queen bed. I've seeen a lot of boats with advertised 'walk around' beds, that end up being the sort you can edge about midway up the bed and then you run out of room. This bed is truly walkable on three sides.

I won't go on about all of the appealing things in this boat, but, my god there are a lot. And, at once appealing and terrifying is the amount of sail this thing can put up. The yacht broker commented that it is probably viewable from a satellite in space with all of the sails up. I wouldn't doubt it.

We'd need the five+ years we have coming before we would have the confidence to sail this thing. I imagine we'd have to find some crew to really run it right. Although, ahem, electric winches ... giddyup!

The IP was a solid confidence-instilling cutter rigged bluewater boat. And, with two massive heads and fiddles and handholds everywhere it's truly a cruiser.

So, maybe we get one, maybe not, either way we are educated and have discovered that this process is going to require a lot more question asking before we start to get close to the point where we begin to answer some questions.

More broadening before the narrowing.

Much more broadening.

Our work is cut out for us.

Meanwhile, we drove out to Pier 90-91. The USS Wabash, oiler that I served in, moored there when we came town. There's a new marina right next door; well, maybe it's 20+ years old. We walked the shoreline, watched some folks sail, and had a Spanish coffee as the sun set on a beautiful springy day in Seattle.

The Caged Lion, the Little Dog, the Old Lady, and the Thickheaded Sailing Wannabe

2009-02-19T18:18:00.000-08:00

When I sailed a couple of weeks ago, I believe it was my season opener, I came back to the dock to adjust something on the boat and as I approached an older woman walking a small dog (the size and disposition of which my sister refers to as a punting dog), hurried down the rampway and waved at me.

I came alongside the dock as she came down to where I was slipping in and she asked if I was from the sailing club (Willamette Sailing Club is a couple hundred meters downriver from my regular boat launch). I said I wasn't.

She then asked if I was sailing in the snow last month, meaning January, because she had taken some pictures from up on the hill of somebody out in the snow and left them at the club. I said that couldn't have been me, as I was out of town.

She then said, "Oh, you must be the one who capsized," which sounds a lot friendlier here in print than it did when she delivered it.

In fact, it sounded so superior that I nearly laughed, reminded of a haughty stereotype of a country club wife.

I smiled and said, "Well, yes, I've tipped this thing over and I'll probably do it again, if you want to know the truth. I tend to find the limits of my abilities nearly every day of my life."

She wandered off after this, a bit crestfallen in my estimation.

That happens to me occasionally. Someone pokes a stick in the cage and tries to rattle the lion, and I'm getting more and more used to the poking and relatively comfortable in my cage, and I tend to shrug it off and move along.

That said, I've really enjoyed all of the ribbing I've taken from you all, as it seems to come from a more genuine place.

As for my own jabs, gybes, pokes, and blunders, I hope they are taken in the same spirit. If not, please send me a note. I'm a little thick, and, although fully capable of sensing when I'm getting the brushback, I'm a much better signal reader when the letters are in a serif-font delivered directly to my inbox.

I believe in community and have a strong desire to belong to a community of people I respect. That's not my original thought, but it is something I ascribe to. I also think that community shifts and changes and moves along. We are players, with our exits and entrances, and one man in his time plays many parts - wait! That's good. I gotta get that down. Maybe start if off with something like, All the world's a stage ...

After teasing everyone about their winter navel-gazing, I'm in the same boat thanks to some old lady and her dog. Thank dog the sun came out this week.

Much aloha!

Yaghan's RTW

2009-02-19T09:05:00.000-08:00

Been following this Swedish couple on their circumnav. They are a couple hundred nm from Brazil and will cross their departure path there, thereby completing a round trip.

They will celebrate with a ten-day stop in Brazil during Carnival!

They have some links in their blog to good video of their adventures on Swedish TV, also.

Junior Returns to Seattle! And so do we.

2009-02-19T06:58:00.000-08:00

Kris and I are off to Seattle for the weekend. We are going for fun, but also planning on looking at boats while we are up there. Our strongest desire was to check out catamarans, but apparently any catamarans that get purchased in Seattle end up sailing off for warmer latitudes in short order. So, not many to see.

There are, however, some pretty great deals on some sweet cruising monohulls, including a Tayana 55 and an IP 45.

Meanwhile the sailing (and drifting) skills continue to build over here.

Aloha!

I'm Such a Child

2009-02-13T11:01:00.000-08:00

I'm so happy that our 44th President read his autobiography for the books on tape version. 'Cause now I get to keep these mp3s until the secret service invades my MacBook and snatches'em along with my fries...

Stomping the Koala

2009-02-09T11:48:00.001-08:00

Which one of you blogger people turned me on to this blog: F%c& You Penguin?

C'mon, 'fess up. I suspect the GPW.

Why do I love this blog so much? Is there something wrong with me? Has this blogger tapped into a deep, dark spot in my soul that resents the eff out of cute little animals? Is this blogger drinking my milkshake?

Or is it something less nefarious? Something that I should just let flow and enjoy, a natural contraction occurring after the expansion of the past year?

Sigh.

Three Sails Under my Boom

2009-02-08T17:53:00.000-08:00

And two others under clipper/schooner booms in Key West.

Been posting like a demon over here. It's a good year, so far.

Vang This

2009-02-06T09:32:00.000-08:00

Where else but in sailing can you say "I had to pick up a shackle for my boom vang"?

Another Shot of the Sister Ship for Bonnie on a Cold Day in Aiea

2009-02-04T13:00:00.001-08:00

Adirondack II moored in Key West.

Dream on, scooter.

meme /meem/ [coined on analogy with `gene' by Richard Dawkins] n.

2009-02-04T08:59:00.000-08:00

I responded to this meme going around on Facebook. I usually ignore these things, but my cousin and another guy I know each posted and I was inspired by their wit and vulnerability. So I jumped off the cliff, too.

25 Random Things

1. Dove into the Gulf of Thailand from a bar window. Read all about it here: http://surferondryland.blogspot.com/2008/09/messing-about-in-sailboats.html

2. I am fascinated by my wife's habit of coordinating her underwear top and bottom.

3. The best thing I ever read was a note from my 22 y/o daughter telling me she likes to hear the stories I tell about her because it helps her remember what is good and strong about her.

4. I am surrounded by women who love me and tell me, my beautiful wife and three amazing daughters, and it makes me happy, however, I have a poor relationship with my parents and worry that I am not helping my son find his bliss.

5. I have recently discovered sailing and am a bit obsessed with it; in a good way.
In fact, Kris and I are planning our departure from the higher latitudes and I keep track of our progress on two blogs. We dream of lying at anchor in translucent water and work hard to perfect our repertoire of cocktails for the purpose of enhancing each and every sunset.

6. I like creme brulee.

7. I like Bordeauxs from 1985 that have been opened and allowed to air out for an hour.

8. I secretly admire my redheaded 5 y/o's rebellious desire to have whatever she wants whenever she wants it and regret having been such a good boy growing up. Of course I recognize that my current vicarious thrill is a payoff, since my caution was a survival tactic, so the regrets don't run too deep.

9. Everybody Wants to Rule the World and Tarzan Boy are the two songs that make me happy every single time I hear them.

10. I made wine in a plastic barrel hidden in the bilge of the engineroom I ran in the Navy. It was pretty good, but everything that came out of my body for the next week was a deep purple color, including snot.

11. I was raised a poor white child in Mississippi ... and Texas, Colorado, Utah, Alaska, and California.

12. I miss my brothers. I have some friends now who I get together with once a month and they feel like intentional brothers; they also know how painful I find it to have grown up with those guys and not be able to have them around anymore.

13. I'm very proud of my 19 y/o son's guitar playing skills and travel down to Corvallis whenever he plays just to sit and listen to him.

14. I rarely wear socks with my sneakers.

15. The first time I tried to catch a wave over 20-feet it caught up to me and completely blew up my whole world. It was the first time in my life I realized that I'm not going to live forever.

16. I was Dave Johnson's (Olympic decathlete) first training partner. We ran a 300m race with some other guys and I won. Dave probably could have been on the Olympic team as a Javelin thrower, too. I was a lousy javelin thrower.

17. I drive to Mexico for a spring break surf trip every year, speak really bad Spanish, eat great fish tacos, drink beer on the beach, and fall a little bit more in love with Baja.

18. I was in a car accident four years ago this month and put on forty pounds over the past couple of years, probably because I quit running/biking/swimming. I've gotten a little fatter, but I'm a little happier. I expect to drop the weight again, but I feel grateful and a little humbled by the lesson I learned about how vulnerable we all are and what a fragile gift life is.

19. It's weird being a military brat. I lived all over the country and feel a part of the whole thing. When I see [insert place here] Native stickers on cars, I think that's a person with a closed mind and little imagination. I imagine if you counted up those stickers they would equal the number of people who voted for W.

20. I love Virginia Hamilton Adair's poetry.

21. Hoodies make me happy.

22. I own six surfboards and four bikes and whenever my wife asks me why, I answer, "Because I haven't bought another one yet."

23. I'm taller than you.

24. I should have paid attention in school and become a pediatrician. Now I realize what an important role parenting plays in how a kid turns out.

25. When I think I'm all done, I wipe one more time.

Shh, don't tell Kris

2009-02-03T18:04:00.003-08:00

... but I'm posting some Paris pictures. She's still a bit pissed at Paris, mostly because of the Parisennes.

Here are a couple of shots of liveaboards, just downstream from Notre Dame, towards the end of Ile de la Cite (which I can't be bothered to try and spell in proper French because I've lost all motivation to learn it after my most recent experience with the passive-agressive residents of the City of Light).

Photo Tag - You're It!

2009-02-03T16:19:00.001-08:00

Captain JP tagged me with something Bonnie the Hawaiian New Yawk Kayaker started spreading amongst the sailing bloggers.

Now you're it. Go to your picture folders and pick out the fourth folder and then the fourth picture.

Here's mine. It's from Kris's and my recent trip to
Spain. Here we are sitting in Paco y Carmen's kitchen outside Sevilla, with our little friend, Pata Negra. We are holding snifters of what Paco called "brandy" but it tasted like no brandy I've ever had. It tasted a lot like a port, in fact.

Here's the box the bottle came in. Oddly enough, the photo is the fourth photo, in the fourth folder of my 'modified' photos.

An August Passing

2009-02-02T16:34:00.000-08:00

This blog took a new tack back in September, inspired by Kris's and my determination to set ourselves a new course in life. I recounted that in our Bidness post.

Just this week, Adam over at Messing About in Sailboats posted his own manifesto, or at least the opening shot. He has set his year and intends on sailing off to the Caribbean in 2014. We are supposed to track him and hold him to his word, in support of his pursuing his dream.

Kris and I have an article posted on our home office wall. It's a similar piece to the one that Adam references in his post. If you look around enough, you can find them. They are the one's telling you to make the leap.

I told Kris about Adam's post and read the inspiring passage to her. She was as touched as I. Today she sent me her date. We have been shooting for somewhere in the 4-6 year range, with our eye on 2014, also. Now we have an actual month, August, and a day, the 15th.

Thanks, Adam.

Today's Rant: Truth in Advertising - The Politics of Slicing Pork Products

2009-01-31T06:20:00.001-08:00

I know that if you want to claim your book has been revised, you have to change something like 20% of the content. I also know if you want to claim your food product is 'reduced fat' you have to drop at least 30% of the calories.

My question, who the hell is watching over the bacon industry?

This 'thick sliced' label is a joke. the most recent package of so called thick sliced bacon, which I bought, wouldn't be considered thick by the most anorexic super-model wannabe.

Ugh.

Winter Getaway Recap

2009-01-26T13:47:00.000-08:00

Days away - 19
Airline legs - 8
Train legs - 1 (Eurostar from London to Paris)
Blogging sailors we met - 2 (Captain JP and the GPW)
Positive experience with French waiters - 1.5
Nasty French waiters in Paris - 3 (impressive considering we were only in France for 29 hours)
Women on quiet Paris side streets who tossed their heads and huffed after hearing our American accents - 1
Nasty people elsewhere - 0
Days until our planned return to Paris - [insert scientific notation here]
Colds acquired - 1 each
Family and friends caught up with - 4
Tapas plates consumed - dozens
Bottles of Rioja consumed - 1.2 per day (in Spain)
Scarves purchased by Kris - all of them (1 for Greg, 2-3 for friends, many for Kris [all worth it])
Countries visited - 5 Conch Republic, UK, France, Spain, Gibraltar
Sailing excursions - 2
Fish and chip platters - 6
Flamenco bars - 3
Number of times we said of Vejer, "This place is incredible." - 47

Back to Stumptown

2009-01-26T10:29:00.000-08:00

We had a great trip to Europe. I posted a bunch of pictures of Spain on my Facebook. Make me your friend (hint: I'm one of the Greg O'Sheas) and you can see them.

I'm putting some shots in here from our daytrip to Barbate, just down the road from Vejer de la Frontera, my new favorite place in the world. There's a shot from the yacht club deck

Some very old bottles of Bordeaux in a display inside the yacht club.

And a couple of shots from the fishing boat basin.

Kris was trying to capture the best angle on a lot full of anchors. Hundreds of old, rusted kedge anchors stacked in a yard near the fishing boats.

Adirondack II

2009-01-15T10:56:00.000-08:00

Some more shots from our sail on Adirondack II. This is her first winter in Key West and I'm not sure how well it's going, but it was a fantastic day for a sail for us.

I raised the mainsail and got a turn at the helm on the way out.

There's also a shot of a cruiser we passed on our way in.

Some More Key West

2009-01-14T02:44:00.001-08:00

On Day Two in Key West we sailed with the racing schooner Adirondack II and crew. We couldn't have asked for a more beautiful day for sailing or a more fantastic boat to sail.

Here's Kris making nearly ten knots on a beam reach.

And here's Greg speaking with a couple of young ladies about the finer points of ship's system preventive maintenance. In particular, this discussion centered on the quarterly scheduled maintenance requirements of the DeLaval Lube Oil Purifier.

Some Key West

2009-01-14T00:54:00.000-08:00

I've managed to meet two of my fellow sailing bloggers (blogging sailors?). Had a couple of pints in The Boathouse with Captain JP last night, after a weekend of fun in Key West with Jolea.

Here's Kris helming the Liberty Clipper on our way back in from the sunset cruise.

And here are Kris and Jolea with a young lady we met on Duval Street.

The Wrath of the Gypsy Pirate Wench

2009-01-10T07:21:00.000-08:00

We got in on a sunset sail with the GPW, taking a trip out on the Liberty Schooner. It was a nice little cruise on a beautiful big boat. It was fun hauling the sails up, too. I tried to get at the back of the rope line and the crew moved me up right behind them and made me work. Good thing I'm married, because my forearms are still wiped from hauling that thing up. (This is officially not a family blog.)

Kris had a chance to helm the schooner and we had to pry it away from her, AGAIN. She's showing her true colors each time she gets a chance to go sailing; she somehow ends up with the wheel in hand.

With Kris hogging the helm so often, I expect our boat's autopilot will have a pretty cake job once we get ourselves onboard and underway. Taking applications now.

Jolea also managed to get us into a cabaret show in which I ended up on the stage as the center of attention from a young lady of dubious origin.

I think I PRed last night. I would have thought it was a world record for drunkeness, but I'm in Key West and there seem to be some champions here that are far and away past what I'm capable of.

What a day ... and night.

We hit the pool this morning to help us feel human again. Now we are off to meet the schooner kid and see if we can wrangle a ride on the Adirondack II. She was out last night the same time as us, but managed to sail a hell of a lot further. She's a fast one and we look forward to the chance to sail her today.

Pictures to come!

Omphaloskepsis Virus Spreading

2009-01-08T11:04:00.000-08:00

Uh-oh, now Black Hockey Jesus is getting all Derrida on us over at The Wind in your Vagina.

This turn of the calendar, while awaiting the return of our Northern Hemisphere sun, must be the season for us to gaze at our navels and wonder; wonder 'why not go ahead and get the double cheeseburger?"

Papa Doble, Pint'o'Guiness, A Fine Bordeaux, and some Sherry in Jerez

2009-01-07T11:10:00.000-08:00

Kris and I fly tomorrow morning to Ft. Lauderdale for the beginning of our January odyssey. We are hoping to sail with the Gypsy Pirate Wench in Key West this weekend, have lunch with cousin Butch in Miami on Sunday, a pint with Captain JP in Putney on Monday/Tuesday, a glass of Bordeaux with cousin Laurent in Paris the following Friday, tapas in Sevilla that weekend, and a glass of sherry at the source in Jerez!

The timing looks good for me to get a day at the Excel boat show in London, too. Kris will be bogged down with client interaction at the Kensington Olympia, hopefully allowing me time to slip away for a boat ride down the Thames.

Fingers crossed that the winter will be fading by the time we return, end of January. Let the sailing commence!

2009 - Day 2

2009-01-02T11:25:00.001-08:00

I just ran to Winco for some taco making supplies for tonight's shindig with old friends. I took A along and left M at home with Kris. I love how my kids immediately seek each other out after short absences away from one another.

As soon as we got in the door A was off like a shot to find her sister. They circle around each other like denizens of the local dog park, tails wagging, sidelong glances only, nothing too direct; me half expecting them to sniff each others' butts, as they quiz one another about what's transpired over the past 35 minutes.

They probe cautiously, expecting the other one to have transformed in some significant way during this absence.

Nostradamus and the New Boat

2008-12-30T13:57:00.000-08:00

A glimpse into the future.

I like it.

:)

I am Petitioner #1873

2008-12-29T10:26:00.000-08:00

Dear Friends,

I have just read and signed the online petition:

"Sailing Anarchy YC entry to 33rd America's Cup"

hosted on the web by PetitionOnline.com, the free online petition
service, at:

http://www.PetitionOnline.com/sayc_ac/

I personally agree with what this petition says, and I think you might
agree, too. If you can spare a moment, please take a look, and consider
signing yourself.

Best wishes,

Greg O'Shea

Snowmaggedon 2008

2008-12-23T08:37:00.000-08:00

We've all got cabin fever here in Ory-gun. Over a foot of snow in town and we have a fleet of 18 snow removal vehicles for a metro-area of 1.5 million people.

Yeah, that's not enough. So, the new people have been going rabid with their Snowpocalypse broadcasts showing snow and trying to it in new and interesting ways every ten minutes. They are failing.

In the meantime, my neighborhood is loaded with kids sliding down the 62nd street hill, adults walking to Starbucks, and much less vehicle traffic than a normal sleep Sunday. It's nice.

Check out what we do with whales on the beach out here.

Avast! Who needs crew from Key West?

2008-12-10T13:00:00.000-08:00

Anybody out there in blogosphericaland need two crew on either Friday or Saturday, January 9-10 out of Key West or thereabouts?

We are spending a long weekend down there and our only other option is to sit in Captain Tony's and drink Papa Dobles all weekend.

Wait, that's not such a bad option, is it?

Proposition 8 ... The Musical?

2008-12-07T09:43:00.000-08:00

Ha! Right up there with Punch and Pie, a song and dance that makes the point with irony. Thanks, froggy.

Now put down that shrimp cocktail!

Key West - London - Paris - Sevilla

2008-12-07T04:33:00.000-08:00

That's the itinerary for January. Doesn't it look like the list of locations for some funky apparel boutique? We are giddy around here. A person must get out of the wet gray Willamette Valley closet in the winter, or your toes start to web together.

Making a difference in other people's lives

2008-12-06T19:36:00.000-08:00

If you're a 47 y/o real estate developer in Las Vegas, why would you justify the money and effort you spend on trying to maintain youth in these terms:

"If I can get out and be active and travel and see the world and be able to make a difference in other people's lives, then yes, I would want to have as long an existence as possible."

Of course, shortly thereafter we find out he's got a 38 y/o wife, who must be the other person in which he is making the aforementioned life changing difference.

If I ever say something disingenuous, my fellow bloggers, please slap me around.

sigh: http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20081207/ap_on_he_me/staying_young

Still Boat Hunting

2008-12-04T10:37:00.000-08:00

... doesn't look like the Bene 423 is going to work out. We aren't in a hurry, however, so not a worry. We are still on our planned course, hitting the milestones, meeting deadlines (can you tell I married a slave-driving account manager?). We hope to sell the current house some time in the next 6-8 months and will move into the downtown condo after that. The condo is looking even more attractive since they built a Safeway up the street and we can walk for groceries instead of driving across the river.

Great Beaver Outings

2008-11-23T15:46:00.000-08:00

I'm a graduate of Oregon State University. The sports teams are commonly referred to as the Beavers. I think it's important that when you talk about the team, you remember to make that B, upper case. Otherwise it sounds like you're bragging when you say something like, "I'm celebrating a great beaver performance."

Punch and Pie!

2008-11-22T13:20:00.000-08:00

This guy and his pie put it all in perspective for me. What happens if gay marriage is legal? Gay people get married. That's it.

Now, have some pie.

Backup, My Friend

2008-11-20T12:05:00.000-08:00

We are the 'backup offer' for the Beneteau. The broker here sounds really disgusted with this whole process and especially the guys he's dealing with in Seattle. Apparently, boats are selling up there at the same pace as they are down here, which is something like a very slow walk on a treadmill to nowhere.

He said I could throw some more money on the table and see what happens. I think I'll let the offer expire tomorrow and see if anybody calls me back about this thing.

Who knew that buying a big boat was a process so similar to buying a house except there's more people involved and they all make you a little nervous?

Benny and the Fiddles

2008-11-19T15:50:00.001-08:00

Not looking too good for that Beneteau 423. It turns out it's a repo and caught between Portland and Seattle right now.

Kris really likes it; especially for the nice touches the Groupe Finot do in their design. It's a sleek looking boat from the outside, and very liveable on the inside. Definitely a model on our list of what we'd like to have.

This one was on the market here in Portland and just got foreclosed on recently. Apparently, there is a broker in Seattle who handles these sorts of deals and he's got his hooks into it. I don't think the guys who handle repos are the best to get into a deal with. We may just let this one lapse; wrote an offer void date of Nov. 21. We'll keep looking.

Clarity?

2008-11-18T09:28:00.000-08:00

I got a lead on a potential boat for us. A 40+-footer on the auction block that we might be able to get for a song. A really, really short song. Some may call it a ditty.

Keep your virtual fingers crossed for us.

My Chops: Busted

2008-11-17T11:17:00.000-08:00

We sailed on Sunday and it was a beautimous day! Click that link to read all about it.

On a side note, since there was essentially no wind on Sunday, we mostly floated and told sea stories. The best had to be Shannon the Real Sailors recap of his Cascade Locks to Hood River race experience. The pictures there are great.

The story's even better when he starts talking about their attempt to recover from the mast-busting end to their racing day.

Apparently, they got out their pathetic little motor and could barely make any way against the Columbia waves and current. They limped into a little cove just out of the main river channel to recover their gear and situate themselves when a local came down and started yelling at them to get off his property. They explained what they'd just been through, if he couldn't tell from the wreckage strewn all over the boat and dragging in the water.

At this point Shannon ranted to us about the international sanctity regarding offering aid to a boat in distress. As polite as they tried to be, asking the guy if they could just use his little dock for a couple of minutes to get themselves situated, they found themselves staring down the unrelenting get-back grandson of former Lewis and Clark hosts.

Yeah, the guy told them to get lost because "the white man has been taking our land from us for too many years. I don't want you on mine." Whoops. They were on somebody's fishing reservation and they were not getting aid in the face of this disaster, no matter what.

So, best they could, back out in the Columbia to try and make way to a boat pull-out.

Studs Terkel Memorial Sailing Supper

2008-11-17T10:01:00.000-08:00

For those of you who read this and aren't in the know, there's a sailor in the blogging community who is very fun to read and quite knowledgeable about the subject of making your boat float in the wind, despite his protestations to the contrary. Occasionally, he puts out a call to his blogging compatriots to respond on topic.

This post of mine today is in response to Monsieur Homme de Talle's request for proposals detailing who they'd most like to have a supper with from the sailing world. Knowing how limited our imaginations are, the man at the tiller offers us loose restrictions and this time he said our subjects could be dead, alive, real, fictional, as long as we were inspired to detail our reasons for wanting to spend some time with the sailors we choose.

Who would I most want to invite over to my house for dinner from the sailing world? I immediately thought of the characters who've most sparked the romance in me for the sea, travel in general, and exotic locations in particular. Sadly, just about the time of the Tillerman's call to action, Studs Terkel passed away, which, although not a conscious choice of mine, is the general direction I wanted to go with this one; to write something similar to what the man of the people would have chosen.

If you haven't read anything by Studs so far, seek something out and I guarantee you'll find a couple of the gems in the rough he's able to unearth in his man-on-the-street interviewing, researching, and reportage. Similar to Howard Zinn, writer of The People's History of the United States, Studs pursues the story from the other end of the spectrum that's heavily weighted toward the 'great man' bias.

So, who are my men of the people? Away we go and in no particular order.

Denton Moore, who wrote Gentlemen Never Sail to Weather, is a guy I get the impression would be a good companion for an evening supper. All I know of him comes from his book, which I found to be a page-turner. He's honest about the mistakes he makes and his own shortcomings as a captain, especially in regards to a couple of crew he takes on for different passages. I'd recommend it to anyone doing a circumnavigation, with the caveat that I haven't done one. He gives great detail about all of the places they spend time and I thoroughly enjoyed his adventures in Costa Rica, New Zealand, Tahiti, and across the Indian Ocean. He and his wife set out to retire in the Caribbean on a boat and become almost accidental circumnavigators.

Keith Broussard who I went to high school with in Biloxi, Mississippi. I was a military brat, so found myself in spots all over the country. This one place was a quite a contrast to my California roots. Keith was one of nine kids, third from the back of the line, and fifth out of six boys. His older brothers owned the Little Flower, a Biloxi-rigged shrimp trawler and they took me in like one of the family. I had a lot of exposure to the ocean, boats, and fishing and those guys are at the core of it. Would be good to have some seafood gumbo with an old friend.

Robb White, probably most well-known for Up Periscope, was the guy who I read at that 8-12 y/o highly impressionable age. I still love his novel Secret Sea, despite some colloquial and vernacular challenges, when he gets going about boats and sailing and warm tropic harbors, I get swept away.

Richard McKenna, the author of The Sand Pebbles, great movie with Steve McQueen and an even better book. McKenna's written descriptions of the operation and maintenance of the reciprocating steam engine onboard the San Pablo are the most beaufitul poetry. This is a man who obviously found joy and salvation in the feeling of competence he developed operating steam plants onboard Navy ships for his 30-year career. He writes only the way a boy who escaped to sea from Sand Point, Idaho could. I'd like to thank him for the words that helped me get through some long months of 6x6 watchstanding as I did my own stint for Uncle Sam.

Liz Clark, who truly sails like a girl onboard Swell, I'm very much enamored of her writing and doubly so of her photography. I've seen more incredible shots of simple scenes in her work than in any collection I've ever viewed. I willingly admit the photo attraction for me may simply be the subject matter of the equatorial Pacific illustrated by surfing locations I've always dreamed about, mixed with the context I bring knowing the shots are taken by this solo sailor exploring places and cultures I love, but you have to admit she has an eye for beauty in what are seemingly mundane daily moments. Her words are a wonderful companion; tales told with an open eye, full of hope, but feet flat on deck, too.

And of course the Tillerman. For the reason that most who participate in this little corner of the interwebs, this ostensibly-sailing related blog-posting-commenting community seem to be turning in a widening gyre with the little Laser closest to the center. It would be nice to meet you, my friend.

Pardon my sincerity. Back to the snarkiness, post haste.

Redemption Run: Taking the 170 out Tomorrow

2008-11-15T14:36:00.001-08:00

Kris's birthday tonight, so some cocktails at Portland's oldest restaurant, followed by a late (ha!) night of dancing and some luxury at the Hotel deLuxe.

Sailing tomorrow! We are having a rare patch of clear November skies in Stumptown this weekend.

Swimming Lessons

2008-11-10T11:55:00.000-08:00

An H2uh0 day on the water

http://loveandcoconuts.blogspot.com/2008/11/one-step-back.html

Dinghy Day Two

2008-11-07T11:37:00.001-08:00

This could quickly become a habit, this messing about in boats thing.

Primero Dingho

2008-11-06T15:07:00.000-08:00

Took the dinghy for her first sail today.

I like it.

It's a Wrap

2008-11-05T08:25:00.000-08:00

...and not a moment too soon. If election season is going to take this long (truly started about six calendar seasons ago), then I vote we make it a six-year term. Hmm, with the caveat that no person named Bush can get more than one term.

I didn't vote for change, but I did vote for hope. I found McCain's concession speech to be gracious and statesman-like. It seems to me that if he'd have doled more of that out over the past six months, he'd have made it a closer contest. Nobody likes a cranky grandpa.

Obama has a tough row to hoe and I hope he's waking up this morning inspired and energized to get down to the real work. I would love for this to be a true era of Camelot for America.

Now, back to the sailing. I'm picking up the dinghy today! Sitting here waiting for the broker to call; should hear something before noon.

Unfortunately, I have a class that runs from 1600-2100 tonight, so Love and Coconuts will be sitting in the driveway at our house, where there are only doug fir cones to gather, awaiting that first sail.

I'm guessing I'll be calling in sick the rest of the week.

Dinghy Delay

2008-11-01T18:33:00.000-07:00

Sigh. We have to wait a few more days.

A Sunny Day at the Needles of Isle of Wight

2008-10-30T11:58:00.001-07:00

Check these guys, running up on the rocks in the Around the Isle of Wight race. Boat number two comes along and the dosey-do begins!

Typhoid Bill

2008-10-29T10:50:00.000-07:00

Kris and I are looking into local sailing clubs for the new dinghy and I ran across this gem in the WSC history page:

Some Highlights of Our Past

1961 - Margaret and Billy Holley presented the Holley Cup Perpetual Trophy, to be awarded, annually, to the winner of a women's series.

1964 - Introduction to Sailing Classes were started with Bob Groshart as the lead instructor. Typhoid shots were given to all participating sailors.

Our Dinghy Adventures

2008-10-28T15:25:00.000-07:00

I am going to start another blog to cover our adventures in our dinghy. I'll keep it here. I don't know how practical it is to keep two of these things going, but the Log of the s/v Clarity is for the boat that we plan on sailing out of Portland with someday and I started this blog to track our progress to that end. I'll keep up with that progress here and chart our dinghy learning curve at Love and Coconuts.

Where did the name come from? Look back through these old posts and you'll see where love and coconuts came from.

In the search to satisfy our dinghy longings, we looked around at a few boats and debated how much time and effort we wanted to put into restoration, versus buying something that we could sail away in tomorrow. I looked at a Lido 14 on Sunday, but it had a few issues, including a need for new hardware and fabrication to get the tiller back in place. On the way home I stopped by the local yacht dealer to see the new big boats just arriving. They have a couple dozen big cruisers in the water, and a handful of trailerable boats in the parking lot.

This day I saw a newly arrived Hunter 170, very clean and they hadn't even put up signage. It also hadn''t appear in their brokerage list yet, so I had to track somebody down and find out the details. I went looking for somebody on the docks and took the girls along to also look at boats. We were down there for about ten minutes before my 5 y/o fell in the river trying to step across to the transom of a Hunter 38.

They are both very polite and the 7 y/o had asked "Permission to go aboard, sir." Unfortunately, sibling rivalry took over at that point and in the mad dash to be onboard ahead of one another, the younger mis-judged the gap and went in feet first.

I was able to fish her out pretty quickly, since she had on her super-floaty lifejacket and was armlength's away from me when she went in. We dried her off with some towels borrowed from a passerby and had to head home early.

I called back and got the scoop on the boat. Went and looked at her this morning with the broker. Took Kris over there to look at lunch and then made an offer, it got accepted and the check is now on the way from the bank. I'm expecting to swap the money for the title on Thursday/Friday. Here she is, sporting fall colors just off Tomahawk Island Drive on Hayden Island.

The 170 is an all plastic boat with a self-furling foresail and a nicely roached main. This one is in excellent condition. The previous owner bought her new in 2000 and has only sailed her about 20 hours, while storing her indoors. The sail covers are still a shiny dark Hunter blue and the sails are very crip.

The only thing I plan on doing right away is adding a boom kicker to save everyone's heads. Don't want to lose any crew to a head injury before they get a chance to give it up for some other reason, like having to sail in rain all the time.

Woohoo!

The Dinghy Search

2008-10-26T17:54:00.001-07:00

I looked at the Lido 14 this morning. It's nearly ready to sail, so not a complete project boat, but it could use some more care. The 'nearly' is because the rudder apparently fell off, owing to some problem with the hardware attaching it to the boat, so it needs some repair and/or possible fabrication.

The woman who's selling didn't have the rudder handy. Apparently, she bought the boat from a guy who has used it for a few years to teach boy scouts how to sail. He sailed with her each time they went out and he's got the rudder. I don't know if that's because he was planning on getting the repair work done.

The sails were in fine shape and the rigging is all in good shape, with the running rigging having been replaced this summer. Kris is going to look at it this week and we'll make a decision before next weekend. The plus is that it's under a thousand bucks to get into and restoration will be inexpensive and good experience for us.

Hmm...

Cranky Joe

2008-10-25T06:34:00.000-07:00

Why does this story give me such schadenfreude?

Woah-oh-oh-ohhhhh...

2008-10-24T07:24:00.000-07:00

Any Boz Scaggs fans out there ... willing to admit it?

The Lido 14 is looking like a strong possibility. Meeting up with the doctor who wants to sell on Sunday. Woohoo.

So, maybe we'll be doing this Sunday afternoon:

International Lido Albacore Pelican

2008-10-22T09:58:00.000-07:00

Part of Kris's and my mission is to sharpen our sailing skills by getting as much time under sail as possible over the next couple of years, before shoving off for blue water. We've been looking for opportunities to crew with other folks, as well as searching around for a reasonably-priced sailing dinghy to get some practice on while we target our finances on the big boat purchase.

In the process I've spoken to, or exchanged emails with owners of each of the title boats from above. I've also considered a couple of lasers that the local clubs have listed on their sites. The Lido 14 looks the most promising at this point and there's an active fleet ten minutes from my house. Although I haven't heard from her owner yet (a yacht broker we have been working with on the big boat is putting us in touch with her), I've got high hopes.

Pickings seem kinda slim around here for a trailerable sailing dinghy and the guys who have them and post them for sale seem reluctant to part with them even though I found them precistley becasue they had been posted for sale. Lest you think the problem is on my end, I have not asked about price, nor did I send annoying strings of emails asking questions about boat equipment or condition. I've simply requested a time/place to check the boat out.

The guy who posted the Albacore lives in a small town, eighty miles south of us, fondly referred to as CowValley. They have access to the Willamette River, which is pretty sheltered by high banks at this point, so, I imagine, this guy must have to drive an hour to the nearest lake to get in any real sailing and, being a farm town, I also imagine the sailing community is, well, standing long watches.

I found the Albacore posting last Friday and emailed him immediately, since Kris and I were headed down to Corvallis for the weekend. Serendipity, I thought as I hit the send button on my email interface. My son was playing on Saturday night and we had already planned to head down with the vacation home on wheels to spend the weekend. Maybe we come home with a new boat too...

So, what does the guy say? "Sorry, I'm out of town this weekend."

Here's a clue for you folks, if you post something on Craigslist on a Thursday/Friday, expect to be around that weekend.

Makes me think his wife made him post it and he didn't really want to sell.

Either that or it was some elaborate secret agent message that I stumbled into and gave the right response initially, but missed the follow-up code words.

Oy.

The search continues.

Great posts

2008-10-20T08:49:00.000-07:00

Love Adam's account of haul-out day at the Raritan Yacht Club.

Pu'uhonua

2008-10-19T14:50:00.000-07:00

We were shopping for a house this past year and had found something that we thought would work for us. It was going to give us more room than the current place, and it had a floorplan that we liked. Kris was ready to sign off on it because it had a retreat off of the master bedroom, which she imagined as her safe haven from a hectic world of me and two little girls. Also, it was new construction. If you know her, you know she's a particular girl and likes things just so. She spent the afternoon today (a Sunday) blowing the pine needles and leaves out of the driveway and vacuuming her roadster's interior. The latter task gave her the chance to use the shop vac; possibly the gift I've given her that she has enjoyed more than any other, with the exception of her extra-large red Coach purse.

We named the house we are in now the Hale Nani Mino'aka, which is Hawaiian for House of the Beautiful Smile and describes how I felt about Kris and our new home together when we moved in to this place 2 1/2 years ago. Although it looks small from the angle in this picture, especially dwarfed by the McMansions we are trapped between, it has a 100 ft. driveway and plenty of room inside.

However, like I said, momma likes new stuff, so we began our search for a new retreat, which when we found it, we were leaning toward naming Pu'uhonua, Hawaiian for Place of Sanctuary. So, there we were, all set up to make the move to the new retreat when the builder filed for bankruptcy protection.

We had made an offer and they had accepted, but we'd given ourselves extra time, planning on closing in 45-60 days. Kris had a bit of a breakdown and cried it out on a Friday night and we spent the weekend hashing out our options and deciding how and what to do. I called on Monday and told the realtor we were going to withdraw the offer. We were able to back out of the deal, since the situation had changed with the builder, and that was the point we started asking ourselves what we really wanted to do with our future.

A couple of the places we looked at were very nice, lots of room, great neighborhoods, and the sort of houses where you end up for the rest of your life. That's where I get stuck. It would be great to move into some place, live on a hill, hoity-toit with neighbors and friends and live the good life, but then what do you do after a year or two has gone by? You're still there, god willing, and a long life ahead of you. That is where the dream of the s/v Clarity starts.

We have talked about looking for a resort in the South Pacific that we could run as a couple, or possibly moving back to Hawaii and living working there, but, still, there you are and the rest of your life is coming at you down that same one-lane road. I want to sail away. I love Portland, I love Hanalei, and I love my friends and kids, but I also know that there is a world out there that I belong too and I want to go be part of it.

Now more than any time it's possible to stay connected to family and friends with email, blogs, etc. Why not take advantage of that and go live our life traveling? That's where this adventure began. The first thing we worried about was leaving family and friends. We aren't leaving, we will just be living in another home. Now, rather than live our life on that one-lane road, waiting out time, we are sailing away and we expect you all to plan the occasional trip to share in our life. We'll supply the accommodations.

Charles Keating's Nephew-the-Plumber

2008-10-17T04:28:00.000-07:00

How have the Republicans and the tiny little upper class managed to co-opt such a large swath of working-class Americans? I make enough annual income that I didn't qualify for the Bush stimulus check (you MUST click that link; it's DAMN funny). I'm okay with that, but do guys like Sam the Plumber know that there was a top-end on that thing? Are they aware that they are not in the same boat as guys like McCain-of-the-countless-houses? And why do they seem so oblivious to the fact that Obama is trying to ease their burden and that of the mass of quietly desperate men? This line in the story linked above summed it all up for me "Wurzelbacher told ABC he was 'not even close' to earning $250,000 but worried that Obama would raise taxes for those making less."

Maybe you've got other worries, Sam.

Okay, that's probably it for political rantings; back to the sailing.

Tillerman's Other Quest

2008-10-14T09:20:00.001-07:00

Our sailing Bucket List? Here we go:

1. Liveaboard.
2. Cross the Columbia Bar, turn to port, go South for a month.
3. Costa Rica to Galapagos with Aunt Dodo.
4. Galapagos to Marquesas passage.
5. Spend a Northern Hemisphere winter in Kiribati and surf deserted reef passes everyday, while living off the hook.
6. Sail into Sydney Harbor and spend a couple months on Mark Gately's lanai.
7. Up the inside of the Great Barrier Reef.
8. A season in The Maldives.
9. Back to Africa in a boat (Kris).
10. A season in the Caribbean on the hook.
11. Crew a Transpac race (Greg).

Tillerman's Quest

2008-10-13T15:10:00.000-07:00

Oh, crap. We are going to have to write more about sailing.

Swell blogger

2008-10-10T21:46:00.000-07:00

I started following Liz Clark's adventure on her Cal 40 "Swell" after reading about her in one of my surf magazines. She's a cute little surfer girl, but no lightweight. She knows her surfing and writes honestly about her struggles with backside barrels on Tuamotu reefs, amongst other adventures. She gets down and dirty in the maintenance of her 40+ year-old yacht and she is doing a ton of solo sailing, making stops at isolated reefs all around the Pacific.

I love her blog and find her pictures outstanding! Tons of great shots at sea, as well as in places like Kiribati, Bora Bora, Tuamotus, on and on. She's got a great eye, capturing the beauty in details of local life, realistic shots of the daily life in the boatyard, alongside postcard-worthy images of islands adrift in amazing seascapes. AND the girl can write. I predict a successful book in the future.

Young man! You've got no need to feel down...

2008-10-10T10:55:00.000-07:00

Yes, I was a squid. I was in the Navy. I sailed the seven seas, or four, or something. Why did I join the Navy? Well, I'll tell you .

I was born at Edwards AFB in the Mojave desert, where my father was stationed at the tail-end of The-Right-Stuff era. I grew up all over the country, living on or near AFBs and saw my father go from an enlisted wrench-turner to an officer. He went to night school until they sent him to get a B.S. in computer science, followed by an M.A. in management. I was set up to think that the military was a good home.

The Air Force might have been, but the Navy was tough. Too much time away from the family. I hated it. So why the Navy? I wanted to be a diver. I went in and told the recruiter that's what I wanted to do and he told me "No you don't." I said, "I don't?" He said, "You want to be a nuke!" I said, "I do?" And that's what happened.

Later I figured out that one of the tests I took qualified me to go to nuclear power school and the recruiter was required to get a certain number of guys signed up for nuke school billets. If he didn't make quotas, he was headed back to sea and the shore party in Portland would end. I don't mind helping a guy out, but at the impressionable age of nineteen, I kinda feel like my best interests took a back seat to this guy's desire to avoid sea duty. There are a lot of things that happen in life that you figure out later might have been steered a certain direction for someone else's purpose. I guess it's part of the package.

Let my life be an object lesson to your kids. Don't kick'em out of the house when they are nineteen. Especially if they've just started to make decent grades and find a niche. Ugh.

Not much sailing news on the home front. Kris and I are making great progress on getting into a boat, however. We've sold a few things, refined our plan, and we're on track. This is the period where we spend lots of time looking at boats and trying to make the right choice between something we can live with and something we can't. Lots of compromises between practical livability and, well, flair, such as wooden interiors, fancy fiddles, wine bottle racks, dish dryers, and the list goes on.

I'm learning a ton, however. I'm perusing the blogs you see on my list regularly, and the list is growing as I connect to more from the originals. The forums at Sailnet and Cruisers and Sailing are great places to get some information, as well as some practical experience sifting through loads of opinion for the nugget or two of helpful info. These sailing folks seem to have more than their fair share of opinions.

The Poop on Technorati

2008-10-01T09:42:00.000-07:00

Anybody familiar with Technorati? I just learned about it reading someone else's blog. There is a feature that allows you to claim your blog and then you can check your ranking. I'm not sure if I should celebrate because the world has over 6 billion people and I got this message:

Rank: 4,647,702 (update - October 20: moved 2,706,351 spots to 1,941,351 ; watch out world!)

Or, maybe I should lapse into despondency about the futility of modern life (as if W and his cronies haven't raised this thought in my head every day for the past 7+ years), since there are likely only 3-4 million of those billions with computers, a few of them most likely running multiple blogs, which means I'm at the bottom of an extremely long ladder.

Oh, well, at least I'm not number two*, because as every parent of toddlers knows, number two is the pooper number.

Technorati also offer an authority figure (okay, it's really an authority number, but who am I to resist a pun, when they were the thing by which The Bard was undone? [or a bad couplet, for that matter]), which is some indicator of how many people are linking to you. So, if you're a blogger and you link to me, I'll get some aww-thore-uh-tay (October 20 update: authority = 2; very funny, Mr. Technorati. Been reading my blog, have you?)

Right now? I got nothin'.

* All of the numbers, other than blogs ranking and the pooper number are irresponsibly speculative guesses on the part of the author of this post.

Direct Input Limited Duty Officers

2008-09-30T11:41:00.000-07:00

The military has classifications for the officers who serve. Most are considered line officers, which means they can do just about anything and are in line for the top job; not sure and can't be bothered to look up if the 'line' comes from 'in line' or 'front line,' but that's what they are called. Other officers are restricted in what they can do, some may serve on a ship, but they'll not ever be a ship's commander because they are limited in their duty responsibilities.

Navy Nuclear Power School in Orlando in the mid-1980s was staffed by both line officers, most of whom had served on ships or subs and were getting some shore duty time managing our daily lives, and limited duty officers, who were grabbed upon completion of a physics or chemistry graduate program, shown how to tuck their new shirts in, and shipped to Orlando to teach us enlisted guys the basics of nuclear science and the related disciplines.

We sat through lectures about heat transfer and fluid flow, worked out complex physics problems, learned about interstitial point defects, and a whole bunch of other top secret stuff that I'll probably get arrested for if this blog ends up in the CNO's hands. The see-en-whatchoo-say? That's an acronym for Chief of Naval Operations. Like most bureaucratic organizations, the Navy loves acronyms. I suspect that creating many acronyms is a way of making up a new language, without it having to be something that adds any value to anybody's life; knowing how to use a bunch of little codes is a way of signaling other members that you are in The Club.

Letting civilians into the military during wars has resulted in a hijacking of the secret language. In fact, those draftees ended up adding their own acronyms that took off and have gone into the mainstream. Two of the best are SNAFU and FUBAR. Look'em up.

So, back to Nuke school (which was sort of a weird thing to call it in the penultimate moments of the Cold War), where I was taking classes from those LDOs straight out of grad schools in Berkley and Boston. The best one was this hot little blond Ensign, named Heisel. This being the eighties, and all nuclear-powered vessels being front-line warships, the Nuke program was a boys club. Only men could go to war at that time. My understanding now is that women are in the foxholes and on the front lines in aircraft carriers, et.al. I don't have any problem with that. I know that my biggest fear while serving on my front line ship was not the gender of the guys I was working with, but the intelligence level. A cigarette butt in a fuel tank full of a couple hundred thousand gallons of jet fuel was the thing that I feared far and above a silkworm missile from the Ayatollah.

And so but then back to Ensign Heisel and the rest of the LDOs. She would stand on this podium at the head of the class, wearing her officer khaki skirt and stroking up and down her thigh, while a classroom full of 19-26 y/o sailors watched her answer a question. Did she know what sort of reaction this was causing? I'll never know. What I did find out, however, is that all of these teachers were not only LDOs, they were also direct input, which if you put the whole together, in the right order (like in the title of this post) in an acronym, comes out as my favorite of all time.

Article of the Day

2008-09-30T08:37:00.001-07:00

A good article in Blue Water Sailing about what to look for in the search for a cruising boat.

"Messing about in Sailboats"

2008-09-28T13:56:00.000-07:00

I've been following Messing About in Sailboats and loved this tale of a lost dinghy. It involves all the elements of a great sea story: the Caribbean, rum, piracy, lovely naked wenches, rum, a barracuda, and a giblet bag. Go read it here: Too drunk to find my dinghy. I'll wait for you to return.

So, pretty funny, eh? Reminded me of a (mis)adventure of my own from my Navy days. We were out to sea for a month or so, in transit from the Philippines to Thailand, with some at sea international maneuvers thrown in with the Australian Navy. At the end of our trek, we anchored off Pattaya Beach for five days liberty.

Being in the engineroom and anchored too far away for an extension cord to reach the shore power outlet meant we had to keep the engineering plant steaming, so my liberty was cut by a fourth. It would have been half that, but the other underway engineroom supervisor and I worked a couple of the upper-level watchmen extra hard the last two weeks before we arrived to get them qualified to stand an auxiliary steaming watch, giving us four watch sections to cover the time we were anchored.

I steamed the plant for the first day and night and then hit the beach for the last three nights. It felt good to kick around on solid ground with the freedom to walk anywhere I felt like going, after a month-long stretch at sea. I explored the little beach side town, did some shopping, picking up gifts for my wife and new baby back home, and then found a hotel swimming pool to relax alongside.

As I sat down I overheard the two guys next to me talking in Aussie accents about their own engineroom duties. When I introduced myself, and they knew me for a fellow hole snipe, they offered me a 'gin and tonic' which I happily accepted. I tipped it up and took a sip of straight gin. I coughed a little and said, "That's a stiff gin and tonic" to which my new found mates replied, "Yeah, we ran out of tonic about an hour ago, but still have plenty of gin." To me this incident is an illustration of the split between Englishmen and Aussies. Although they will stand on form, and continue to call it a G&T, damn if they are going to stop drinking for lack of a mixer.

As the sun began to fade away and the gin ran out, I said goodbye to my (at this point highly inebriated) friends and headed downtown to try and catch up with some of my shipmates. Pattaya faces west on the Gulf of Thailand and has a long beach that's wider on low tide. Toward the south end the beach ends and a seawall begins. Above the seawall is a long row of buildings that house all sorts of money-making propositions. The first of which was a kickboxing arena (found a recent picture [to the left]; it looks like the kickboxing either expanded to include a beer garden, or got replaced by a beer garden). Most of the businesses along Pattaya Road are open air, so as you walk along you can see the current kickboxing match-up, the latest t-shirt styles, and who's drinking beer in the handful of bars along the way.

I found my engineroom crew in a bar about 200 yards down from the beach's end and stopped in for a beer with the boys. Lucky that I had the gin in my system because these guys were well down the road of stupidity and it would have taken a lot of beer for me to catch up. Did I say lucky?

As time went on I caught up on the beers, while drinking and dancing with the local girls in a big group. As the bar got more crowded, a couple of us got up on the actual bar, toward the back of the building. I turned toward the Gulf and could see the Wabash anchored a half-mile out to the West. By this time I was pretty soaked in sweat from the dancing and took my shirt off as I turned back toward the crowd.

By a coincidence of timing, two important things happened that led to the events I will describe forthwith. First, the guy next to me had drawn everyone's attention as he was encouraged to chug a bottle of Singha and, second, the song Tarzan Boy (one-hit wonder Baltimora: who it turns out was a gay Irish dancer, named Jimmy McShane lip-syncing and fronting an Italian pop-song making songwriter/producer; sort of Milli Vanilli meets Lou Perlman, with some Fabio and Liberace thrown in) kicked off with its trademark jungly disco beat. Just as these two worlds collided and this tragically happy coincidence occurred, my shirt came over my head and I turned around, swaying to the lyrics "Jungle life, I'm far away from nowhere, On my own, like Tarzan Boy" and the little Thai girls, who'd been cheering my shipmates beer-chugging, began hooting and whistling and gesturing to me, as though we couldn't have choreographed the whole thing better if we'd thought to.

I occasionally hit my marks and nail the timing, only because I've seen it all done before and I'm a great mimic. Having arrived at this moment so serendipitously, I took my cue and I tossed my shirt to the ladies, the perfect picture of Tom Jones. With loud approval they signaled that they wanted more. My brain having been reduced to lizard-size by this time, I reacted as requested and, to the pounding rhythm accompanying the Tarzan yell "oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh" I kicked off my Sperry topsider, spun in a circle, and shoe number two followed, sailing out into the sea of inequity.

Our little group's focused cheers drew in more of the crowd, until the whole bar was bouncing and singing along (at least they had the oh-oh parts down; not sure anybody knew any other words; I had to look it up myself to ensure I hadn't misinterpreted, even though I've been singing along to it for 20+ years) with the manufactured electronica while pointing at me. Who am I to deprive the people of their entertainment? I unzipped my hiking shorts to "Night to night, Gimme the other, gimme the other, Night to night," slid them down and flipped them out to the crowd.

So, I guess this is the moment of truth, right? You're wondering to yourself: boxers? briefs? commando? Frankly, I don't recall, but I know there was at least one more stanza in the song and I had one final article of clothing. The Navy issued us Fruit of the Loom briefs, but I'm pretty sure I ditched those things right after boot camp. I think I must have been wearing boxers and at this point, the crowd wanted them.

And so but then to the oddly-accented encouragement of some Italian pop-mercenary, singing the strangely apropos words "It's all right, You won't miss home, Take a chance, Leave everything behind you, Come and join me, Won't be sorry, It's easy to survive," I slowly bent and worked my boxers down to my ankles. Stepping out of the left leg hole, I stood and flipped my right foot out over the crowd, tossing my shorts (and probably swinging a couple of other things) out to the masses, in the way that only a 23 y/o with no concept of consequences could do.

I took a chance. I left everything behind me (maybe in front, but I was in tune with the spirit of Jimmy's lip-synced request). And, to my surprise as I write this 22 years later, I wasn't sorry. I was, for a brief moment, happily liberated right up until the song came to an end a moment or two after my unveiling. What to do?

They always say, "Leave'em wanting more" which, of course, takes on whole different levels of meaning when a man is standing naked in the room, so, once more on cue, and again without much rational thought, I turned toward the Gulf and did a swan dive out the window, into the ocean. I had about ten feet before I hit and tucked to round off underwater.

When I came up I was facing out to sea with cheers coming from above and behind me. I turned, treading water and saw faces leaning out the bar and waving. Underneath the faces were the poles and piers holding the building up. I looked right and left and didn't see anywhere that looked like an access point back up to the bar or the street, so I started swimming back toward the main beach.

I stroked along for two hundred yards, mostly in the shadow of buildings, which were all similarly propped up and offering no apparent access to the street until I reached the beach just past the kickboxing palace. As I crawled out of the water, it dawned on me that I now had to return the same distance that I just swam, on foot, naked, down a crowded street.

With my fishing tackle in hand, I began the walk. Surprisingly, only about a 1/4th of the folks on my side of the street, shuffling down a crowded sidewalk, seemed to notice that they had just passed a naked man. One guy who did notice was sitting just inside and open air bar, facing the sidewalk. As I passed by a woman carrying a bottle of Singha on a small serving tray, placed the beer in front of him. He put his hand on her arm and said, "Hold on, baby, get me another, would'ya?" Then he handed his beer out to me and said, "This one's for you, sailor."

As I came back to the bar in which I'd last been seen clothed, a loud cheer went up. I saluted with my beer and my clothes were tossed back my way. One of my shipmates said that they had considered throwing them out to me in the water, but I'd swam away before they could gather them up.

Obviously there's no moral to this story, and, without passing judgment, there would seem to be very little morals involved either. I still wonder at the chance that I could have hit a submerged post, or a shallow bottom and broken my neck. But I didn't and I don't dance naked anymore, which is by no means a loss to anyone as I'm on the wrong side of forty these days and not quite the dancer I was at twenty three.

Someone take the wheel

2008-09-28T12:12:00.000-07:00

Kris and I arrived a little early to The Sailing Life dock for our Saturday morning sail, so we kicked around and looked at boats. I think anybody who's thinking about making the move to a boat should plan on spending multiple hours/days looking at boats. Kris and I found this story by Suzanne Giesemann very inspiring. We are getting a steady education looking over any and all possible boats. It's even a little tempting to fly out to Annapolis for the big boat show in two weeks, but I'm not sure we'll do it.

The Sailing Life had a newly arrived Beneteau 40' in the commissioning stage. Still had some grease pen notes on the hull and the mast had yet to be stepped, but it was in the water.

We looked around at a few of our favorites, the Hunter Deck Salon models being at the top of the list. There are two DS 45s (picture to left from Hunter Web site) and one DS 41 in the vicinity. The 45s have been sold and the 41 is still available. We are both very interested in these models as they have more room in the main salon for living, as well as for storage.

Our boat for today's sail was the Hunter 38. This 2008 model had been sold to someone locally, who used it for less than a year and decided to bump up to one of the DS 45s moored a couple of slips away. So, she's in excellent condition and the main salon still has that new boat smell.

Kevin briefed us quickly on our roles for mooring when we returned and we were underway. After we got out in the main channel, Kevin gave me the helm, pulled up and stowed the bumpers, and started prepping us to get under sail. I helmed us out to the main river channel and then handed it over to Kris so I could go help Kevin and learn a little about how to setup and trim this boat's sails. That was the last I had my hands on the helm.

Kris was reluctant to take the wheel, even though she was sitting right next to it, and I ended the discussion by just walking away and telling her it was all her's. The winds were very light and blowing upriver, but it was a joy to shut the engine down once we hauled out the mainsail. After that we unfurled the foresail and made an easy 1/2 knot across the Columbia on a port reach, occasional puffs giving us the slightest bit of heel. We jibed upriver a couple of times, fell off, turned her into the wind, and began tacking back down the river, the apparent wind picking up noticeably.

Kris was excitedly calling out the boat speed as the wind picked up and bubbles began to flow under the transom behind us, our speed inching up toward three knots in a close reach to starboard.

There was nothing near a regatta, but a handful of boats were playing around in the light air. Our early fall day warmed steadily, turning into a nice day as the afternoon approached.

I'm sure Kevin thought we were pretty goofy, although he was a good sport and answered all of our questions about the boat, sail trim, and the local yachting/racing scene. He even shared some of his own adventures from the local beer can and club races.

After a couple of tacks down river we came about and pointed her into the wind so we could start up the diesel, haul in the sails, and head back to the dock in time for a late lunch.

Guess who helmed us back in the channel?

What do you know?

2008-09-25T11:55:00.000-07:00

I've been surfing for a few years now, most of that time spent bobbing around on the surface of the sea, eyes cast offshore analyzing the swells moving toward me. I know the image that most of society has about surfing is more like what you see in the latest videos: a young, bleached, tanned kid dropping in, carving a cutback, and slashing off the lip; or maybe a long-bodied, baggy-shorted Wingnut (look him up; the heir of Robert August and one of the funnest [yeah?] guys ever), smilingly, soulfully-arched and cruising through a deep green barrel.

Those things happen and they look great on film and they stick best in memory, but the bulk of time spent in search of waves is a lot more pedestrian (amphibian?). Most of my time has been spent paddling around, working into position, especially on windy days, and a lot of staring into the distance. Rather than a frenetic music-video experience, I find myself drifting, floating and reflecting on my life. I've spent a lot of time studying the way water moves around near shore, the rips, currents, swells, and waves that eventually form up and break as that ocean energy pushes into shallower water.

The wind is a large part of the equation, and can quickly turn a session into something fun, when it shifts and blows offshore, holding up wave faces as they try to pitch over themselves. Alternatively, a fun session can quickly get messy and blown out when an onshore breeze kicks up and starts blowing the tops off the waves before they can form.

I've learned to spot a rip current and use it to get myself out into the lineup quickly. A spot I surf in Baja sits inside a little bay with a rocky cliff projecting out into the ocean on the North end. The waves pump into the little bay and the water that builds up in the bight has to move back out and, with the right swell, it will push along the beach to the North and then right out along the base of that cliff.

The first time I paddled out there I was nervous about how exactly it would play out, but I had scoped it pretty well and, although it was a very narrow little rip, it looked like the water was moving swift and true, right out to the back of the lineup, without exposing me to any breaking waves and the potential to get pushed onto the rough volcanic rocks. With a dozen other surfers surveying the spot, I was the first to test it out and after a half-dozen waves, followed by the express lift back out, I was quickly joined by a handful of surfers boldly riding my wake.

I know a few things about the near-shore seafloor, too. And can easily spot waves breaking over sandy bottoms, versus the more powerful and consistent reef breaks, which I love. When a surfer has surfed a spot long enough, he begins to know where to go, and when to be there. He knows what the wind and swell reports mean to his spot and he's always in the right spot out there in the water. He's got it wired.

It's pretty clear that some of my surfing skills and knowledge will fit with my sailing needs. I also have a pretty good base of experience with ships' systems, having run an engineroom on a Navy oiler. I even have some book knowledge specific to sailing, having read volumes of marine-related material including sailing blogs, novels, circumnavigation reports, maps and charts, technical manuals, ad infinitum. However, what really appeals to me about this adventure that Kris and I are embarking on is the things I don't know. And that's a lot.

I could spend every day of the rest of my life sailing and studying sailing and I'll never learn all there it to know, nor will I go all the places there are to go. I may get one or two things wired, but all I have to do is pull up the anchor, make sail, and I'm on a new course to something I don't know.

So, here's to not knowing. I hope I know enough to stay safe. I think I know enough to take risks that I can afford to take. I want to know enough to challenge myself to learn more. Most importantly, I know that I'll never know it all and that makes life look more interesting.

Here's somebody who is certain that she knows a lot more than me and you, including what's best for us.

Love and Coconuts

2008-09-23T15:57:00.001-07:00

Lately people have been asking us what the smiles are for. Apparently, one of the symptoms of full-engagement with your dreams is a big-ass smile displaying on your face when you aren't even particularly aware of it. We've ended up laying out the plan for most of the folks we talk to and, surprisingly, they seem to get a little swept up in it. The guys especially are excited.

I'm realizing that this dream I've had since I was about twelve and read my first Robb White novels, was only missing one key ingredient, a fellow sailor to go along with me. I was somewhat affixed on the idea that my dream was a daydream and not something to actually do. Why? I don't know. Maybe I knew I needed to do some emotional-growth work, and so sought out partners who would challenge me in a relationship, as though it were some sort of contest on a hot tin roof. Now that I'm with a partner who meets me and only challenges me to be a better faster stronger me, I'm struck by how close I am to, and how capable I am of making the life I want into a real daily thing.

Best response so far, Kris sent a link (to a boat she's interested in) to a designer she works with. His response was, "That is a super-sweet boat! 150k is a great deal for a floating house! You could sell everything, buy that, and have hundreds of thousands left over. Then you can sail the world and live on love and coconuts."

Love and coconuts.

That's beautiful.

If we hadn't already named the boat Clarity, I think we'd have to go with Love and Coconuts.

Our hopes and dreams in a spreadsheet

2008-09-23T03:47:00.000-07:00

Which is kinda like a bottle, but not really at all. Kris and I had a follow-up to our initial meeting, this one being a more practical, logistical type thing, and we put our hopes and dreams into an Excel spreadsheet. We have a project plan now (which I'll post here eventually) and can chart our progress toward boat ownership, living aboard, and eventually casting off the dock lines and sailing across the Columbia Bar for a warmer port.

The beauty of laying it all out in the spreadsheet is that we can see each step on our journey and we can chart or progress as we make way toward the larger goal. There are a raft of boring logistical tasks to take care of now, but each one (selling household items, etc.) is made more interesting for the progress it gains us in fulfilling our dream; the sails are beginning to rise up the mast, where they will eventually fill and be trimmed to our liking.

We are spending a lot of time looking at boats now, these initial explorations helping us to negotiate what design elements are essential, important, and attractive. I like the solid practical feel of the Catalina yachts, while Kris is drawn more toward the French design aesthetic in the Beneteaus and the appealing little liveaboard touches of the Hunters. Of course, spending time in any boats salon reinforces the dream. We had the opportunity this past Sunday to look at a boat that currently has a couple living onboard and Kris was much interested in how they had appointed themselves inside, taking note of the hooks and snaps holding pots and pans on the galley wall, the candles burning in the main salon, incense in the head, and a few of the other creature comforts that fit in a small space.

Selling the house is the next major step.