10/14/2011

TESTING


TESTING..KNOCK KNOCK 1,2,3,TESTING..KNOCK KNOCK 1,2,3, do not change your channel this is only a TEST!
I am in yet another test. It seems like my life is a test. Another challenge, another hill to climb, another hill to decent. Pick myself up, and dust myself off. Push harder against that load, and move that mountain. This test is just about half over, and so far so good.




In 93 I singled handed Frolic to Mexico from S.F. Ca.. I hadn’t meant to do that, but my wife at the time just couldn’t let go of the security. The night I met her she asked me what my dream was. I told her I had just bought a business, and plan to sell it in six years, and sail away. I didn’t know how to sail, but I had been on other people’s boats, and on a charter from Lauderdale to the Bahamas. I was sick with tonsilitis most of the trip to the Bahamas. It didn’t stop me from snorkeling, or having a good time half the time. The other half I laid in my bunk thinking I might die. This was in 81, and the hook was set.


5 years, and 11 months I had slipped the dock lines of Frolic. She stood on the dock saying I can’t believe you’re doing this. I told her I got the boat, I fitted her out. It was obvious that over the past 18 months what I was preparing to do. I backed her out of the slip, and never looked back. I wanted to look over my shoulder, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that.
I made it to Cabo, and she joined me there. We sailed to Puerto Vallarta, and then I went home with her. I had been thrown across the salon, and off the boat. Only to be drug back onto Frolic before I hit the water. I was going home to buy a wind vane. One thing led to another, and the autopilot was never replaced. The relationship soured, and I was on the street. Eventually made it back to Frolic, and I finally got her home to the S.F. Bay Area.


As life moved on for the next couple of decades there were still more tests. You already know how I ended up in Golfito, Costa Rica. Bad crew, bad timing, and a bad economy. Saint Melanie flew home to work. She will be supporting Imagine, and I until it’s time once again to leave Panama. Yep that’s right the old burning bridges, and back to Panama.

Imagine in Panama
Bridge of the Americas, Panama

Actually I am sitting in the navigation station writing this. The boat is gently tossing this way, and that way. Being alone, and needing to get back to Panama. Has kind of left me between a rock, and a hard spot. Hah what else is new? I am alone, and need to sail 356 miles. I thought I had some help, but the logistics just couldn’t come together for her. I needed to go, and so I decided I would test myself.

When I went to Mexico I was 19 years younger, and a whole lot stronger. The sail then wasn’t so much a test as it was to see what’s over the horizon. Now with my recent health problems. It’s a test, a test of what I am made of, a test to see if in my sailing abilities I have learned to finese the boat instead of muscle it. OOOOOH SHIT, I got to go there’s a test outside, a big black squall. Be back when it passes…..
Well, I got lucky, and nothing came of it. Although I did roll up the jib, so I could drive into the wind, and drop the main. The blackness started to disappear into gray. It thinned out, and moved away. I rolled out the headsail, and am on my way to Punta Mala.

This is the kind of test I am typing about. What will I do, how will I do, or even if I can do it. Mel would be proud of me. She always wants to put the sails away when there is any indication of problems. Where I wait, and want to see if we are going to miss it. Sometimes this leads to a wee bit of excitement. I believe in keeping the boat moving. Now though with my diminished strength, and being alone. I was very cautious, and just got rid of all sail. Then slowly added some to the boat as I felt the squall was moving away.



It’s gray, and ugly outside, but at least that keeps the burning sun in hiding. There has been little wind that is steady. Last night though there was a nice wind, and I turned off the motors. To just hear the boat sailing with no mechanical noise except for Otto the autopilot. He tends to squeak, and groan. He doesn’t eat, drink, or ever fuss about missing sleep. Just to hear the boat sailing is a beautiful thing!


Imagine was doing 8-9 knots with a reduced mainsail, and a full headsail. She was smooth, and whispering through the water. Unfortunately it only lasted for a couple of hours, and then back down to 6 knots. Then down to 4, and one of the motors came on to assist. I want to keep at least 5 knots, so I can just get there. I worry about lack of sleep & freighters.

I can only sleep 20 minutes at a time. Freighters come over the horizon, and can crush you in that amount of time. I also sleep on the cockpit bench. I want to be able to feel the wind. I can tell if it increases, changes direction, and worst of all if the wind tempature drops. Well, that means a squall is coming. I need to be prepared for that, and not surprised. Sleeping inside the boat insulates me from all these things. I see one right now, so I better change my course. Seems like we both, freighter & I, have to nudge the wheel over a wee bit. That means some one is on watch. Which is not always the case. Sometimes there no one at the wheel. On the freighter, and Imagine, since I might be napping. Ah how I miss the luxury of another set of eyes!
Tonight will be a busy night. I am coming to the turn to the Panama Canal, so ships will be coming, and going constantly. I’ll be drinking a lot of tea,, until I turn the corner, and can get out of the shipping lane. The ocean is like a hiway with much traffic in certain places. They have their own road to cross the oceans. It’s pretty easy to be relaxed in some places, and get lots of sleep. While others can be nerve racking for a single-hander. Handling the lack of sleep, and heavy traffic is part of the test though.

Well, it’s been 24 hours, and things have gone smooth. More motoring than I want, but it’s that time of the year for little wind. The wind is suppose to kick in tonight, and I am wishing it will. I would like to use less fuel. Not to mention the noise as compared to sailing with just the wind.
Typing of freighters there is China Shipping in my sights. It appears we are on a collision course. She is still several miles away, but I keep a watch on her progress. If you take up a piece of the boat while you stay in one position. Then line it up with the freighter. If the freighter stay aligned in position with this piece of the boat. Then you are on a collision course.
I call them several times over the VHF radio before they answer. I identify myself, and my position. The man on the other end of the radio isn’t happy. He asks again where I am. I repeat my position, and then there’s silence. I can only assume he is looking for me. Then he asks in his unhappy voice if I am plotting him. He is asking if I am following our positions. Only they use fancy instruments to plot those around them. My reply is that yes I am by eyeball. I hear in his voice a questioning statement when he replies EYEBALL? Yes, I am just a poor single handed sailor using my eyeball, and it appears our courses are merging. SILENCE once again, and it is nerve wracking. I give it a moment, then state that I would like to maintain my course, and stay out of the shallow water, or keep from tacking.

More SILENCE, and I am beginning to think I will have to tack, or fall away to the shallow water. Turning into the shallow water means all of a sudden with the same wind. That the waves will increase dramatically. Less than a mile away the depth goes from well over 1500 feet to around 200 feet. Tacking means rolling up the headsail, so I can turn across the face of the wind. The once across I roll out the head sail until I am sure we are no longer merging.
Then roll up the headsail, and turn back across the wind again, and then unroll it. Also adjust the position of the main each time. I have made the decision to tack, and I am preparing the lines to do so. I notice he is turning, and as I watch he is turning maybe 60 degrees. It’s much easier for them to turn the wheel than it is for me to turn the sailboat. We part, and both of us go on our merry way. I think the grumpiness of the man on the radio is due to I have woke him up?
I am past Punta Mala meaning Point Bad in Spanish in the feminine case. Just the name is enough to give me worry. Names were given for a reason. Mostly they are of description, and when it says on a chart a bad point it is for a reason. This is a place where the waves crossing the Pacific Ocean come to rest against the shoreline. WELL, maybe rest isn’t a good description. More like come to crash against the shoreline. The waves have had a long fetch, distance traveled, and have the chance to grow.

The water drastically lessens in depth which also makes the waves grow in heigth. So, because of this I am giving Punta Mala a wide berth while rounding her, and round her I do. I have dropped the main, because my home made batten has broke. A batten is a flat stick running through the sail to help keep a good shape as in a wing of a plane.
Imagine is sailing fine with the wind on the quarter, headsail only, and doing 6, then 7, then 8 knot. Back down to 7, and then 6 knots while she being to climb to 7, and then 8 knots. Are you seeing a pattern here? This is the boat climbing up the back of a wave which takes more effort, and slows her down. Then getting up on top, and starting the sleigh ride down the face of the wave, and being pushed by it at the same time. This is called surfing, and it’s what we sailor like with the wind behind the beam, center of the boat.

It’s time for one of my small naps, and I set the cooking alarm. When the alarm goes off, and wakes me I am in a deep sleep. It takes a moment to open my eyes, and then I feel a different sensation from the boat. She is smooth, and there is a wonderful hissing of her passing through the water. She feels strong, and able at the moment. I can feel the powers of the boat, the wind, and the water. I sit up, and look out. The white caps are much larger, and more plentiful.

The wind has picked up, and the boat is nearly flying on the wave tops it seems. I step inside the navigation station, and with a glance the GPS is reading 11+ knots. It doesn’t even register in my mind how much the + is. I know we are going too fast. Remember way back when I was sewing on the sail? I had to sew the clew. The clew being a steel ring attatched to the sail, so ropes can be attatched to the ring so you can move the sail left to right, and back again. This needs more attention from a sewing maching. I have doubts of how strong I made it. If it comes loose I have a big problem, so my goal is to reduce the sail, or roll it up.


The wind has gone from 15-18 knots to maybe 25, or 30 knots. This may not sound like a lot of wind. Next time you are riding in the car at 30 mph. Put your hand out the window, and lay it flat against the wind. The turn your hand so it’s no longer a wing, but a barrier, and flat against the wind. Can you feel the difference? There is quite a difference in force isn’t there? Now imagine your hand being the size of your living room wall. Just think of the force that would be with the same wind, that’s what I am typing about, it’s hell of a lot of pressure, and I need to reduce the area before something breaks, and RIGHT NOW!


I the line holding the clew, the sheet, and then I roll up a few feet of the sail. Then I ease some more sheet, and roll in a few more feet of sail. I do this until the whole length of 25 feet of sail is rolled up. With Mel it is easy. She feeds out the sheet while I roll it up, and things go mostly fairly smoothly. Alone I have to inch, and finesse everything that I use to muscle. Finally the headsail is rolled up, and Imagine is still surfing at 6-7 knots. The force of the wind against her body is pushing her up the back side of the waves, along with some inertia. Then once on the top gravity kicks in a wee bit, and off she goes at a higher speed.
She has got my attention, and I am awake now! She is doing this under bare poles. Which means she has no sail up at all. I feel she is a wee bit squirrely as she goes down the wave. I decide to roll out about 6 foot of sail. This will give strength pulling from the bow, and help keep her going straight forward. This takes pressure off of the autopilot to help keep her under control. Now we’re doing 6,78,7,6,7,8 knots riding the waves much smoother, and steadier. Another test has been put behind me.

If Mel had been with me in this situation. I would’ve put 2 reductions, reefs, in the main sail size. Had half the headsail out, and we would’ve been doing 12-15 knots steady riding the waves. The boat would be like a train on rails going fast, and steady. We’ve done it numerous times, and I just love the sensation of all the powers coming to be in the movement of the boat.
It’s 6:30 am on Sunday October the ninth in the year of 2011, and the sun is above the horizon. There are still clouds in the sky, so the sky is grey. I am sitting at the salon table having breakfast. The wind has calmed down. The headsail is all the way out again. No motors running, and life is GOOD! As I sit there looking out the 8 front windows. I see a large shape maybe 10 feet from the side of the boat. It goes higher than the boat itself, and I realize after being startled it’s a dolphin. I stand up, and look at the bows, and they are playing there, frolicking.



Normally I would go to the bows to watch. Without Mel here means I have to put on my harness clip onto the boat climb up over the top. Unclip, and clip on again at a new point to get to the bows. I just stand there, and smile. They always give me a warm fuzzy feeling when they ride the bow waves. I feel as though they know what I feel. I have laid on the bow of Frolic, and dropped my hand down. We have looked into each other eyes, and a feeling of knowing over comes me. Knowing what I do not know, but the feeling is there. A sense of we understand each other.

I finish breakfast, and clean up my mess. I step outside, and I can see the Islas de Farollones. I get the feeling I am home, and the word home is a feeling of security. I have been here 4 times, and several of those have been returning for reasons that be. In the distance I can see Taboga where I kept Imagine for nearly 9 months while I was being treated. Once agai n I can’t be thankful enough for the understanding, and help that came from Chuy, and Susan while Imagine was in their hands.
The clouds are breaking apart, and to my left I notice a partial rainbow. It’s no a large rainbow, with extreme colors as some I have seen. Yet is a rainbow, and like the feeling of the dolphins, and the word home give me. So does a rainbow. I want to sail in front of Chuy’s home, but that will leave me anchoring in the dark. Anchoring will be yet another test.

As I am turning away from Taboga I put in my favorite CD. It was made for me by a friend who also sails. On the label is my naked butt while sailing into Puerta Vallarta on the bow of Frolic. My butt is white as can be. While the rest of me is like a dark chocolate. One year I sent it out as a Christmas card. It was titled DREAMING OF A WHITE CHRISTMAS, and did I have fun with that! I sent it without a signature thinking everyone would know it was me. Many didn’t know it was me , and some were accused of being me. While others claimed it was them. Even Lat38 the famous S.F. sailing magazine printed, and Identified me as #141 of the 2nd annual Baja Haha cruise to Cabo. They even had the nerve to call me eye candy….hahahaha
The second song is Imagine by John Lennon, and the third is ‘TIL THERE WAS YOU, and as this song started. There was a strong grasp on my heart. Tears came to my eyes as I thought of Mel. We first shared this song in the Philippines at the resort of Pearl Farm soon after we met. We were seated for dinner with a view over the pool, and Gulf of Davao. The troubadors asked if we had a request. I asked Mel, and misunderstand her sending them away. I could see in her eyes I was wrong. I got up, and went to them, and asked if they knew ‘TIL THERE WAS YOU.
They did, and came back to the table a moment later. There was maybe three strums on the guitar, and Mel looked at me, and said ‘TIL THERE WAS YOU with questioning eyes. It was like a strike of lightning that hit me. It was a sealed deal for me. She is the one. Not number one, but the only one. Number 1 indicates there might be a #2? It’s kind of funny. I don’t know if Mel feels this way, but I do, that it is OUR SONG.


Pearl Farm, Island Garden of Samal-Philippines
We have our uncomfortable moments like all couples do, but when we return to each others arms. The glue that holds us together becomes stronger each time. Many feelings swept over me while the CD played on. Many of the songs are related to feelings that I have. Some of love, the lack of love, and of course there are the sailing songs. For now life is a crow bar prying us apart. Only is our grip lost, and I can not reach out for her hand. But those fragile strings that intertwine our hearts. They have become chains of huge dimensions, and will keep us together! I miss her affection, her body, her laugh, her smile, her pouty face when she wants something. Because love is a very complicated thing I even miss our disagreements. Not because I like to argue, but it means she is with me.


I avoid getting close to Taboga, and sail on the outside of little Toboga. I am in a hurry to get to the anchorage in day light. It may take me awhile to get the anchor down. I have never anchored Imagine alone. Someone has always been with me to drive the boat while I drop it, and set the hook. Because the bow is narrow on a mono hull. It’s a matter of dropping the hook, and letting the wind blow you back to set it. With a catamaran when the wind blows the bows down I fear the chain will run across the windward bow, and cut the bow.

I have been giving this some thought, and I have come up with a plan. I charge Mel’s Panama phone. I give Donna a call to see if she can help if I have a problem anchoring. She says she will stand by. This gives me comfort to know if help is needed then I can have it.
I approach the anchorage, and can see my favorite spot is open as always. It is the farthest away from the dock. I like it because it is also away from the cluster of boats that sometimes break loose, and damage other boats. There is a much better breeze, and at times there is no breeze at all in close. The breeze keeps the wind generator putting out electricity. It keeps the insects away for the most part. The water is much more shallow. Shallow water gives more scope, anchor chain, out per depth. This gives better holding, and that means much safer.
As I approach I am a wee bit anxious to do this alone. I pick my spot, and make a false approach. I want to test the boats reaction, so I will know if my plan is a good one. I turn up into the wind slowly. I put the boat in nuetral. I walk to the bow, and ready the anchor, by unlashing it to the boat. Get the switch ready, and in place. I give the anchor a kick to release it from the roller a wee bit. I put a plastic tie on the chain to indicate 10 feet, and drop the anchor down to that mark into the water. I was going to place another plastic tie to indicate 20 feet. Then I noticed I had a long time ago placed several yellow ones there. I watch the boat as the wind grabs her bows, and she drifts back. Even though it’s fairly windy she moves slow off to windward, and back.

I walk back to the cockpit to spin her bows into the wind once again. I move her forward slowly. I slip her into nuetral again, and walk to the bows. She is preparing to stop, so I drop the hook down until the chain goes slack, and I know it’s on the bottom. I let out another 15 - 20 feet, and snub the chain. The chain slowly rises from the water. It goes straight, and the bows of the boat are in place with the sterns swinging into alignment. I look for reference points on shore to gather my bearings. The hook is holding. I let out another 20 - 30 feet. The bows swing down once again.

Again the chain raises out of the water, and Imagine comes into alignment. I let her sit to make sure she is stuck. I do this until a total of 150 ft. of chain is out. I put the bridle on the chain. Go back too the cockpit, place the motors in reverse, and give her a good tug. The boat comes in to alignment again, and seems to be stable. I take the motors out of gear. The boat is pulled forward with the weight of the chain. She comes to a stop, and in reverse again I give her more throttle this time. I do this one more time at 1,500 RPMs. She comes to the end of the chain, the bridle stretches, and creaks as it strains over the rubrails on the bows.
 I look around at my reference points, as the motors pull. She is stuck, the hook is set. I take her out of gear, and the weight of the chain pulls her forward. The motors are idling.

I look around, and I think of the meaning of harbor. A place of refuge, and we’re safe. Yes. we as in Imagine myself, and Mel. Imagine, and I are one for now. Mel is also safe, because now her worries of me single-handing can be put to rest.

Over 400 miles sailed in 3 days adding 2 hours. You always sail more than the route laid out. Wind changes, and conditions change. On paper it’s one number, but in reality it is another. Nearly 2 days of motoring, or motor sailing. A day, and a half of what brings joy to my soul, real sailing. No motors running, just the wind, and the sails working to get you there. We got here, and in decent time even though at times we were only doing 3 knots motoring along at low RPMs to conserve fuel. Even though my home made batten broke, and I was reduced to just a headsail, even though I went with out any real periods of good sleep.

My body was just getting into the rythum of sailing with a bakers clock. Cooking, and cleaning while underway. While the motors were running turning them off now, and then. So I could check oil levels, and look for any unwanted problems such as water leaks, worn belts on the motor pulleys. Checking my location, and the predicted weather along the way. The weather can be very unpredictable, but it is what it is, and you adjust to it.
There’s one test left now that I have arrived to my place of refuge with the anchor set firmly. That’s the world of officialdom in the third world. Dealing with paper pushers in any country can be trying. In the third world, and especially with any machismo by officials. You sometimes want to pull your hair out. It’s Monday morning, and I will check into Panama for the fourth time. I have found great difficulty here at times. Then again at times I have found beautiful smiles, and great kindness.






My friend Z from the sailing forums. She has under her screen name a signature that says. LIFE IS AN ADVENTURE MEANT TO BE LIVED. Well, I have lived my life this way. As long as it is possible I will continue to live this way. I just can’t help myself as hard as I tried to live a more structured & normal life, but it’s just not me. TESTING,, TESTING,, this has been a TEST. You may now return to viewing your favorite channel, but the
TESTS will go on……….