COSTA RICA

COSTA RICA

So far things have gone pretty well here in Costa Rica! The only bad thing has being able to check in. As I typed we made it into the gulf with only 2 gallons of fuel left. I nursed every ounce of fuel, and zephyr of wind to get here, but we’re here.

Fortunately through the kindness of Zepplin we got 10 gallons of fuel, and local information too. We motor sailed over to Caldera from Ballena Bahia. The guide we aquired told us we could do all check in there. We dropped the hook at 4pm, and had been hailing the Port Captain since 3:30pm. There was no reply, so we figured they had closed up for the day. You never know when you will run into a Holiday in a foreign country.

Yacht Zepellin in Bahia Ballena

Bay of the Whales settlers

The next morning come, and Mel is on the radio first thing at 8am. No reply at all, and throughout the whole morning there is no reply. Then just before noon the Port Captain comes on the radio, and tells one of the freighters it will be noon. We try to hail him again, and still no reply. Mel has now found a channel where the freighters talk to each other. Apparently some of the freighters had been sitting for days with no replies.

Imagine on Bahia Ballena

This almost too funny, but it’s the way it is at times in Latin countries. About 4pm on the second day. The freighter got through, and was told the Port Captain was on one of the tug boats cruising around the bay. He got with 150 feet of us, and completely ignored us. Imagine’s color scheme stands out, and is always remembered by many we meet along the way. So I know he sees us, and hears us too. We’re the only pleasure boat anchored among about a half dozen freighters, and right in front of his office. Finally the freighter got through too the Captain once again. Or should I type the Captain finally decided to answer the call on the radio! He asked what happened to noon? The reply was oh it will be Manana. I knew then it was time to raise anchor, and get over to Punta Arenas to check in. We pulled in the anchor at 7am., and made our way here.

Here wasn’t much different than Caldera. Once again no reply came from the Port Captain’s office. After numerous attempts finally we got an answer. After a couple of conversations back, and forth with this voice on the radio. I began to suspect he was not the Captain, but an agent. Mel asked directly if this was true, and the reply was I work for the government. He directs us to come along the waterfront, and anchor in front of a certain business. As we approach we’re hailed on the radio, and he’s on the wharf directing us exactly where to anchor.

We drop the hook, and dinghy into shore. He has an official looking badge, but Mel is suspect, and demands an honest answer. Turns out he is an agent, and works through the government, but for himself. I am looking around, and can plainly see this is no spot to leave the boat. Not in the hands of incapable crew, or alone. It’s obvious these are hard working people, and by the looks of things the rewards for working hard are not much. A boat like Imagine would just be easy pickings if left alone. The swing of current, and strength is reason for not leaving the boat in incapable hands.

So it turns out the man admits he is an agent. Seems Captains don’t reply to calls, because this way you fall into the hands of a third party. This can be good, or bad,, and this time it turns out too be good. Mel haggles with him. She explains our situation, and the man lowers his price to 1/3 of what he first asked. Turns out he worked hard to get what we paid him, and it took a whole day, or rather 2 half days to finish the paperwork.

There was a lot of misunderstandings, and misinterpetations with the paperwork. It may have taken another day, and had officials pulling out their hair if he hadn’t been there too smooth things over. Turns out this man had a tumor removed from his neck. While at breakfast on the second day after the work was done. He had all kinds of advice on herbal healing. Some we already knew, but there were others new too us. If it was up to Mel I wouldn’t eat a meal, but my complete intake would be some herbal healing potion of some kind! It can’t be denied though that something is holding back the growth of my tumor. Something is shrinking it, and making it hard. It is not really visible anymore, but I can feel it still there.

The agent guides us up the very shallow waterway leading to the end of the small bay of Punta Arenas. He gets us up to the Costa Rica Yacht Club where for $25 (plus 25% surcharge for not staying a month)  a day we have a safe place to leave the boat, so we can provision. We’re out of fresh fruit, and veggies. There are lots, and lots of canned ones, but those are out of necessity. We have some canned meats too, but those are also out of necessity. There’s still 2 weeks of meat left in the freezer. Not to mention weeks, and weeks, perhaps months of Pancake, oatmeal, and dry cereal left. Mel has tried to bake bread, but it turned into fish food, so bread was on the list too. Especially since there are lots of small bakeries on the street with fresh made bread, yummy! We can get fuel here, and just plain get off the boat.

Now getting off the boat has been an experience. After a month of movement from Imagine. Terra Firma is another challenge. We rock while standing there, and laugh at ourselves. If there’s seasickness there has to be land sickness too, right? Well there is, and thank goodness it doesn’t make you green. Just a wee bit unstable. To others it probably looks like we have had several drinks, or more.

So here we are, and we have only seen a small part of what there is, but I like it already. It seems civilized compared to Panama. There are no outrageous buses here with sometimes gaudy, sometimes sexy, and sometimes even downright beautiful paintings covering them. The old Blue Bird school buses with suspensions knocking, and belching smoke like an active volcano are not here. I am really glad the blaring Latin music is gone too along with the pressing flesh of crowded buses. Although if it is a young beautiful woman that smells fresh. There’s really nothing to complain about when she presses against you. Usually though it’s another man, or some stinky old woman with tons of perfume on. Not to mention a guy working in the heat of the day, and all sweaty. Everybody has a seat here, and they wait in line patiently to board the bus. In Panama it is every dog for himself to get aboard, and off!


As far as the natural beauty here. The water isn’t gin clear like the Bahamas, and I miss that. There are many rivers dumping into the bay, and that either browns up the water, or at least darkens it. It depends on how close to the river you are. The closer the browner the water.

There aren’t large mountains that we can see. I don’t know how tall the country gets, but it is very hilly, and many small mountains. These give off all kinds of shades of blue, gray, purples and even at times reflections of the sunrises, and sunsets. Through out the day the colors of the mountains change. At times they completely disappear to due rain squalls that pass through. The rain is yet another plus. This means catching water, and a whole lot less of carrying 5 gallon jugs to the boat, and around the boat.

There are large ocean swells that come in to the wide mouth of the bay. These are dramatic, and beautiful like the Ca. coastline. With huge geysers spewing out of cracks, and crevices. White foam cascading down the sides of the coastline, and many islands through out the bay. The other side of the island can be very tranquil, and these will discover a wee bit before we leave this bay.

Isla Tortugas (Punta Coral)

The anti fouling paint we used is really horrible stuff. The idea is to keep creatures, and grasses from growing onto the bottom of the boat. A smooth bottom makes for the best chances of getting more speed. A fouled bottom makes a boat slow. This paint is only 2 months old, and already the growth is quite a bit. We will need to go into one of these tranquil sides of an island, and scrape the bottom clean.

Because there is fresh water dumping into the bay. It has helped clean off some of the growth already. What has died will still need to be scraped off. A fouled bottom can knock off a knot, and at times much more speed than that from Imagine’s progress. A knot is 1.2 miles an hour, and that doesn’t seem like much. After a 24 hour run that is equal to 28.8 miles loss, and if the bottom is worse the loss of miles are worse. Over a week it becomes a complete day lost, so you can see a clean bottom is important.

The thing about being here. Is that there are no cruisers. Meeting cruisers means gaining knowledge quickly of the location. Not that the locals have not been helpful, but cruisers know what another cruiser needs, or wants. Those that arrived before you. Usually get information of where to buy filters. Where the most inexpensive stores are for any merchandise. Hopefully by moving to Golfito we will run into more cruisers, and therefore enhance our stay here. Especially my stay since Mel will be leaving in 3 weeks, and gone for at least 3 months. Possibly up to 5 months, but as always time will tell how long she needs to stay in the states.

I will need too find some products too work on the boat. I have paint, sand paper, varnish, thinner, some small pieces of wood, brushes, but eventually I will need to refill what is used, and some things I don’t have any longer. An example is when we boarded the boat in May. We found a small oil leak in the shop. It soaked a bag with about 30lbs of triaxle cloth, and ruined it. I want to rebuild one of the chain locker hatches, and I will need fiber glass cloth for that. I used all the U.V. sewing thread on the sail, so more thread will be needed. Not to mention some new needles. I broke several trying to push them through the extra thick layers of cloth on the sail.

As we see more, and experience more I will add it to here. Just so you know I am not just soaking up the tropical sun, and having drinks with small umbrellas in them as I watch sunsets! I would hate to think any one is thinking I am living large like a millionaire. Living large? Well, maybe I am, but not anything close to a millionaire. We’re just hardworking people that have decided to live a not so normal lifestyle.

We have made our choice to not live in a house with a white picket fence, and a pet, or 2. Our house can go most places where the water is 4 feet, or deeper, and explore this lovely planet we call home, Mother Earth. From our dining table, back porch, and galley our view changes often. Sometimes a wee bit intense, and sometimes so seren it makes one wonder who is painting that sky, or scene that is being gifted to us at the moment.

Off Isla Alcatraz

Isla Tortugas

For me it sure beats looking out onto the same tree waiting for it to grow, and give me shade. Taking half of my day off to mow the lawn, and keep the yard tidy. Instead I scrape, and varnish, or crawl into a hot engine compartment to see why the engine won’t start, so we can move our home against the tide with no wind. I look for, and replace lines that are worn. Shackles that are suspect to failure at the wrong time. Cutting out soft wood, and replacing it so the boat is safe. It’s not much different keeping the boat tidy. We just change the scenery now, and then.

MAKING LEMONADE

Sometimes in life you’re handing a bunch of sour lemons. Now as a kid I made lemonade in my Grand father’s concession stand at the Illinois state fair. You just add a little sugar, and stir a lot. What was once sour, and distasteful is now a treat to drink.

This turning around to Costa Rica was a bunch of lemons of life. Last night sitting in the cockpit while Mel prepared dinner I was busy making lemonade out of our situation.

Here we are sitting in a tiny cove that is well protected from the prevailing winds. There’s a tiny resort on one end, and a tiny home on the other. The sun was setting through grey clouds with a beautiful rose colored sky here, and there behind the clouds. There are no insects biting me, the water is tranquil. While in the distance I can see the water is ruffled from wind. It took us only 4 hours to get here from Puntarenas, and several more to go to our destination. There is no rush, or stress to be anywhere at this time. The pain in my neck, and eye are gone. Mel has bought a fresh snapper from a fisherman in a canoe. So in my mind I was busy making lemonade out of the lemons of life.

I use to use a phrase as a very young man. Some days you eat the bears, and some days the bears eat you! Where it came from I don’t know. What I do know is over time I forgot this phrase. Several years ago when we were struggling with the economy. My friend John asked me what happened? How did I forget that the bears are still roaming. I had to laugh, and told him we were pretty young then. Some where along this time line I have forgotten that you got to take the good with the bad, it’s life. So there I was last night taking a long cool drink of delicious lemonade. Watching from my back porch the scenery swing back, and forth as we hang on the anchor, and swing.

It could be a hell of a lot worse. I could still be under a microscope being probed, cooked, and having toxins dumped in my veins, but I am not. I am here in Costa Rica. Swinging gently in semi circles as the wind, and tide changes. The morning air is cool, and the sun is peeking out through those clouds again. I am eating cinnamon pancakes as my scenery changes from tree, to resort, to small house, to mountains in the distance wrapped in clouds. Let me take another sip of that lemonade, uh I mean morning tea!

Wheres the beef?

A LITTLE WHITE LIE

A LITTLE WHITE LIE!

It’s been 3 weeks since I have entered anything. There has been much that has happened. Some of it dull, some it perfect, some of it horrifying, but still in her moods of rage. Mother Nature can be the most beautiful thing to witness. I never did get to the sanding, and varnishing. I was too busy provisioning, and chasing down last minute parts.

Since we were moving from Florida to Ca. Imagine has become a Bekins moving truck. She is loaded down, and every nook, and cranny filled. It took some rearranging to move things, so our crew had a berth, and a place for his belongings. It was done, and we waited for his arrival.

What I know of the crew is from a friend, and his own resume of sailing. Resumes are nothing but a chance to embellish on the facts. Especially in the corporate world, and a very paper friendly world of teaching.

I had run an ad in several forums looking for crew. It was a short ad. Asking for crew who can get themselves to, and from the boat at their own expense. We would pay for anything else, except for time off the boat. That Imagine is a dry boat while under sail. I explained my bout with cancer, and my loss of strength, and stamina. I clearly asked for some one who can reef a main in a gale. If you can reef a main in a gale! You can most likely tend to most other tasks required to sail a boat. Things like understanding trimming the sails, and making small adjustments in a course.

The responses to the ad was insane. From willing people with the ability to entertain by playing musical instruments, and singing. To one man applying for a job to run a freighter. There were a couple of replies that after several letters back, and forth just quit replying. Then there was the person we accepted, a friend of a friend. Now my friend was taught her sailing mostly by me, but has gone on to accomplish much more. Including her own sailboat ownership. What she said is mostly true, MOSTLY! There are things you learn about people only by living with them. Obviously there were things my friend did not know about her friend. He likes to embellish about his experiences. For 38 years he taught, and became a principal. Mostly living in a small town in the Sierra Foothills. I can only assume twisting one’s words a wee bit while moving up in the world of teaching is quite accepted. They are only little white lies, and polish something up quite well that may not shine so much on their own. Mother Nature has a way of exposing these lies, and bringing out the raw truth. Unfortunately the raw truth, or lack of it can kill you at sea at worse. At the very least it can be frustrating, and bring damage to a vessel. This little white lie has put Mel, and I between a rock, and a hard place.

I was told with much enthusiasm that our crew had sailed the Southern Ocean on a 3 masted Bark. From South America to the Antartic. Standing watches, bracing the yardarms, steering, and going up the masts. Then there was the delivery of a 85 ft schooner. From Cabo to San Diego by going the old clipper route offshore. He would always lower his voice, and bring his head closer with wide eyes while telling these stories. Kind of like telling a boogey man story to a child.

Now I have sailed single-handed along the shore line of the western Baja coastline. Both going north, and south. It’s a trashing going north, and unfortunately for me it was a trashing going south the year I went. it’s unusual going south, but it happens. It is suppose to be a milk run. I was later quoted in Latitude 38 that if it was a milk run. I had spilt milk all over me going south.

I have never been in the Southern Ocean, but for a sailor it is the pinnacle of sailing. Much like Everest is the pinnacle of mountain climbing. Talking about it justifies lowering your voice, because the Hoorn can be the boogey man. What I have learned since is quite a bit different than the way it was first expressed to me. He paid to go on these cruises with professional crew. Yes you can have some hands on time, but that is way different. I would kind of liken it to mommy walking you to school on the first day holding your hand. You can quit anytime you like, and a professional will step in for you. If you don’t understand the job, a professional will step in for you. Your responsibility to make sure the ship arrives safely is pretty small if any at all.

So this is where Mother Nature, and the raw truth becoming exposed comes into play. I specifically asked if he could reef a main in a gale. His answer was he understood reefing, and his experience would justify his answer. I failed to read between the lines of his answer. I take a person’s word for what is said. I was raised a man’s word is his honor, so I thought I had found someone to help us get to Hawaii from Panama.

The first day on the boat he refused to help us provision. He wanted to stay on the boat, and look things over, get a feel for her. Next morning we walked around while he identified the rigging, and it’s uses. He also asked some very intelligent questions. I thought to myself I had A WINNER here. Have you ever heard the phrase? THAT’S A REAL WINNER! Well it’s not a COMPLIMENT, and that is exactly what we ended up with. My friend told me that he took instructions well. I found just the opposite within a couple of days. Giving him the benefit of the doubt with everything being new. I didn’t give it a second thought. This would bite us in the ass tremendously later in my bad judgment call.

After a couple of days. I was asked where he could find items to clean the head. I thought this is great he’s clean too. With in a couple of more days he was wanting to clean his head again. Mel pointed out his head was stinking. I asked what seemed to be the problem. Looking down I noticed spray of urine on the floor, and seat. I pointed to the sign above the head that indicates no standing while peeing. I also suggested he should follow the instructions to keep from making a mess. He smiled, and indicated it was only a little as I raised the seat to look. The water was brown like a muddy football field. I told him he wasn’t flushing enough water through the system. He denied that, and me thinking he has spent some time on boats knew a marine head took a lot of water to flush the system clean. I explained it again, and showed him how much water it took. He said he knew that. I thought okay, maybe the joker valves has gone bad while the boat sat for 8 months in the tropic sun. I had him run some vinegar through the system to hopefully soften, and lubricate the valve to fix the problem.

The next day I could smell vinegar, and we discussed this. He claimed he was pumping enough water through the system, and I told him flatly if he was the vinegar would be gone. It’s obvious he is not. Next day the head was clean smelling, and he told me he had to pump 3 times what he was pumping to flush the system. This should’ve been an eye opener, but there I go again giving the benefit of the doubt.

It’s 3am 8/6/11, and the crew was fired two nights ago. Our position is N95*54, W91*17 headed due East instead of West to Hawaii, and here is another example of his not listening. I have come to the point where I can’t trust any of his judgment, or lack of judgment. He was told he has no more responsibility to the boat, and no more watches by me. He was also told this last night by Mel when he got up for his usual watch while I slept. Tonight once again he got up to do a watch. I plainly told him he could sit at the dinner table with us. He can come on deck, and enjoy the beautiful evening under the stars, but only in an emergency could he have any responsibilities. Even then he would scare me, but sometimes you have to ask. If Mel fell over I would ask for his help. If I fell sick such as last year I would ask for his help, but he is not to touch anything unless I ask. He scares me, and this I will get into, but I just have to throw in this example of him not getting it! He looked at me, and said but John don’t you need some rest, and I can watch. What is it you don’t get about what I just said? I repeated myself, and he looked at me dumbfounded. Once again I explained he has the freedom of the boat, but no more responsibilities unless I ask in an emergency. This is the ignorance I have tolerated for over 2 weeks, and nearly 2000 miles. We are returning to Costa Rica, because he scares the shit out of me. He has already brought damage to the boat twice. Once a huge thumping that rocked the boat got me out of my bed. He said it was just a log, and nothing to worry about. I couldn’t believe his statement, and went below to inspect the bilges.

Back to what lead up too my decision to fire him. A couple of days we were motor sailing along, because the wind was light. He has aquired the cooler as a perch on the right side of the house. He liked to do his watch from there with a good view, and breeze. The clew of head sail was set right in front of him. There was a small change in the wind towards the bow. The sail started to gently flap back, and forth 2 feet in front of his face. I watched him for about 5 minutes, and finally asked what he was going to do about the sail. He looked at the sail and then at me without any understanding at all. I explained it was going to be a long way to the trade winds, and the wind would be fickle. That we would have to pay close attention to sail trim, so we could get every mile out of what was offered. This to keep the passage as short as possible. 4,500 miles at the least is a long way at jogging speed!

Then I went into a long, and gentle explanation of sail trim. The wind indicator, and how to use the instruments to watch all of this. This we had gone over before, and not just once. I also made sure he started, and killed the motors every they were needed. I wanted to make sure in an emergency he could do either without delay. It took him over a week to understand the key on the right went to the right side motor, and the key on the left went to the left side. Yes they are alongside each other, but there I go again giving the benefit of the doubt. At times his hand would tremble with fear to make a decision of which side to use.

Like every owner of a sailboat, or at least every owner should have his own way. The reason being I want a line in a certain spot with a certain knot. Is so that when chaos begins there is no fumbling, or looking for what is needed to bring the chaos under arrest. I like lines coiled a certain way, and laid a certain way, so you can let them run free, and less chance of a knotted line to struggle with when Mother Nature gets in a playful mood. It happens, but if you treat your lines properly it will happen a hell of a lot less! I like nice big loops, and too this day. Even with an explanation of why he will lay small loops over a winch with the handle in the winch itself. Just another chance of tangling a line, but he doesn’t get it. Is the old saying that you can’t teach an old dog a new trick true? I guess it depends on the dog! Where’s the smiley when I need one? As you can see there is a pattern here, and it is beginning to irritate me. I am an easy man to get along with, but this kind of behavior makes me a MotherFkr to get along with. Some people say I am difficult to get along with. It is true, but only for those trying to cheat me, or being ignorant. These are the same people who refuse to see where this behavior started, and why it started. As I typed earlier. I was raised to never start a fight, and to never walk away from one. Sometimes I burn bridges doing this, but in life I have found it pushes me forward by reducing the chance to go backwards.

Before I go on about the damage to the sails that became the straw to break this beast of burden’s back. Today after 3 weeks it is not understood to flush the head. He went to Mel, and complained there was no water for the head. I told him to take the fucking thing apart, and fix. Don’t even consider leaving the head a mess, and walked outside to the cockpit. Mel came out a few minutes later, and told me he wasn’t flushing the head again. Everything was dropping back into the stool. She went down, and simply flushed the head by pumping. He doesn’t come out of his berth, except to look at sunsets. Walking past his berth is a stench of sweat. Today being 8/14/11 he hasn’t taken a real shower since he boarded the boat on 7/18/11. When he walks near me I can smell him. For awhile he was doing splash showers out of the cooler where we catch water, but even that stopped a week ago. He is refusing to eat. Mel the sweetheart she is takes him food. I think he’s losing it mentally.

There is so much more to describe his lack of knowledge, and inability to learn, or take directions. I will quit my sniveling now, and get into the meat of the subject of why I turned the boat around.

I told him like I tell everyone new to watches. If you feel a dramatic drop in tempature. There is a squall coming, and to wake, or get me without hesitation. I took this crew on to help me with the main. So he could get to the mast, and do the heavy work. It has become apparent he couldn’t reef the main, so I have taken the job. I get up, and reef, raise, and lower the main.

The first big mistake was one night he came in, and told me the autopilot didn’t work, and he didn’t know what to do. Once again he had let the wind back the jib. Fortunately the wind was so light there was no damage. The boat was moving so slow it couldn’t keep up with the sail back winded, and the breaker went off. For the third, or fourth time I explained to him again what had happened.

The another night he woke me again to tell me there was a lot of wind. A real lot of wind, and he didn’t know what to do. It was a squall, and he was panicking. We got the boat settled down, and I asked him about the cold wind. He denied there was any cold wind. I told him under no certain terms is that true. There is always a cold wind, and the reason there is a squall. Is because the cold wind is falling forward over the top of warm air. Then he admitted that maybe 2 minutes earlier there was a small cold breeze. I told him well, there you go. That’s your 2 minute warning isn’t it!

I was either reading, or napping when I could hear a grinding noise. I looked forward, and could see the clevis pin on the jib’s furler vibrating violently. The wind was from the quarter, so I let the main block the wind to furl the headsail. Mel started to ease the sheet, so I could furl. The sheet slipped away, and the sail started to flog itself, and the staysail rigging. I looked up, and the crew was standing there watching. I yelled Help her, and he looked at the sail, her, and me, and then looked again. I got a couple of turns on the sail, and then it stopped. I looked again, and he was standing there staring at the sail. I yelled again FUCKING HELP HER! Finally he grabbed the sheet, and they got it in a wee bit, and I could furl the sail. He froze like a deer in headlights, and without a clue to what had happened.

We turned the boat around, and I lowered the main. The whole time telling him what line to pull, and when. Still he couldn’t follow instructions, and fumbled badly with everything. After 2 weeks, and to this day he doesn’t know how to push the small lever that releases the lock to allow the winch handle to go in, and out of the winch.

I looked up at the headsail, and said. Well that’s a lot of fucking sewing! It took about 20 hours of sewing to reattach the canvas that protects the sail from the sun when rolled up. Also most of the webbing on the clew was torn loose. I did about 2/3 to ¾ of the sewing, and ended up using pliers, because my fingers were so raw. The clew is only partially sewn, because it is too thick to push a needle through. It will have to go into the loft to redo my stitching.

Then the straw was placed on my back that broke me. Mel woke me to tell me wind was coming. I got up, and watched. Yes it was building, but how much you never know. I yelled down for crew to get up we have a squall. There was a delay of what seemed like hours, but was only minutes. The wind was still building, and quickly. I yelled down now get up here right now. Another minute had passed, and Mel started with me to work. Up comes crew dressed in a foul weather jacket, and shoes on. Now I have watched him struggle to get his shoes on. He refuses to let loose the laces, and has to force his feet in. Once again we were down wind, so we took in the head sail first as the wind continued to build. I got up the mast, and started giving instructions at the top of my voice, so I could be heard over the wind. I glanced over the bimini, and could see smoke on the water. In the light of the deck light it was awesome in a primitive, and beautiful way. Before we could turn the heel of the foot of the main gave way, and started to shred.

The main was down, and I had Mel turn down wind. She pulled back the throttles, and we were doing 6-7 knots bare poled. I looked around, and said that at least we are going in the right direction. Right then I realized it was over for now. I couldn’t trust his judgment, or ability. I told them when the squall ended we would turn back. I said the old sail no longer fit the hardware, because the new sail had been altered. It was a lie, and I was being nice. Being nice would end the next day though.

For about a week my pain returned in my head. Behind my left eyeball, and over the top of my brain. What is left of the tumor had been aching. Once again I didn’t say anything to Mel. I was afraid she would start freaking out, and pull the epirb, or 9/11 on the Spot Tracker.

I had started wearing my polarized S/S prescription sunglasses to ease the pain. I was trying to make the headsail, and old headsail run off the same furler. I was re arranging the sheets while crew was holding one. I told him okay, and he let it go like a guitar string. It plucked me in the head, and knocked off my glasses. In slow motion I watched them sink, very slow motion. That’s when nice stopped! I went to the cockpit, and let my temper cool down. He came back, and said something he thought was funny. I looked at him with disgust. I told him he no longer had any responsibility to the boat. DON’T TOUCH MY BOAT, and keep your distance from me will be the best thing to do. His shoulders slumped, and he went inside. For 2 days there was a tension so thick. A bulldozer couldn’t get though it from me. He came out, and asked what on earth he could do to ease this tension.

I told him in a disgruntled voice with plenty of tension. There is nothing on this earth that can remove the tension. That he had deceived me by not admitting he never reefed a main in a gale. I told him you must’ve had a pretty structured life, and in your retirement you were looking for a little spice, or excitement. He did so at my cost, and maybe the cost of my health. In Hawaii there is medical help, and our insurance will cover it. In Central America I would be lost. That Mel would have to leave the boat, and go work in the states for 4-5 months. This would be a separation for us, because he wanted a sailboat ride to Hawaii. I told him that I asked bluntly if he could reef a main in a gale, and he replied he understood. You understand nothing, you can’t even get the winch handle in, and out without a struggle after 2 weeks. You know nothing about reefing a main. Now he had gone to Mel a day earlier to justify he could reef a main. He had reefed my friend’s main. I asked him if this was at the dock, or the lee of Tiburon, possibly Angel Island, and he gave no reply. He dropped his shoulders once again, and went below.

I can only be thankful that Imagine is big, and he has his own head. It keeps us separated. I told him once again he had the freedom of the boat, but keep his distance from me. The raw truth is out, and the truth is that he doesn’t know squat about sailing. He has put at risk my chance for medical help if needed. Mel, and I will be separated for months. We can’t afford to leave Imagine alone. Let alone the damage that happened while she was alone in Panama. Boats don’t do well sitting. They need to be used, and kept limber like a runner.

The crew claimed he read this blog. How he couldn’t understand what was required of him, and why is beyond me. I have very seldom asked for help in my life. Am I dying? We don’t know, but I will type this. I won’t go without a fight. I won’t become a science project, and let the white coats drain me down again. I will get Imagine home, and if need be I will sell her. I refuse to accept pennies on the dollar by abandoning in her in Central America. If she needs to be sold the money will go to Mel’s future life, and her freedom to make life choices.

Tomorrow we motor to Punta Arenas, and do entry paperwork on the following day. Then crew is free to fly home, and say what ever he wishes to say about me. Mel, and I will sail Costa Rica for awhile. Then she will fly to the USA, and go back to work. What was the pain in my eye, tumor, and brain? I think it was worry. I don’t know what it was. I do know this that it has almost completely stopped in the last 2 days.

I will stay with Imagine, and get to work on that varnish, and stainless steel polish I typed about some time ago. I will make the old main fit, and repair the new one for a back up. I might even get in some fresh paint for the cockpit, and salon.

I am not as strong as I once was. At least not yet. Everyday I prove to myself I am healing. It was me reefing the main. Hanging onto the mast in a blow where the water looked like smoke on the sea. It was me doing all the things I asked of for from crew. It will be me who sails Imagine away from Central America this time. It will be Mel, and I sailing into Hawaii to lay my father’s ashes, and my friend John too. As I have always done in life. I will dust myself off, and move on with life. As my forum friend ZEE types on the forum. Life is an adventure to be lived, and I am not done living yet.

THERE WAS SOME BEAUTY TOO

Yes, there was some beauty too, and something that will be with me for the rest of my life. There were those night sails although slow mostly. The slowness can’t take away the beauty of the sea. Coming north along the Costa Rica coastline one night. There was so much phosphorous in the water. That for over 2 hundred feet the sterns put out a glow like headlights on a car. You could’ve read by the glow sitting on one of the sterns. The boat seemed to float. There were the friends of the sea almost always. The dolphins came to play on our bows almost daily. Then there was the most fantastic light show I have ever seen.

It was the night of the main sail loss. When the excitement was over. As far as the eye could see there were stars to the horizon. Extremely bright, and clear. The sea it self was glowing too. Where the horizon stopped, and the sky began was hard to see. The sea was a planetarium turned upside down. There were exploding Novas, shooting starts, and a depth of light that was deep in the ocean. The breaking waves were the novas. It was as if we were one of those snow scenes in a glass ball. It was unearthly, and beautiful as we floated through the sky like a space shuttle. The streamers once again from the sterns reminded me of headlights, or even rocket exhaust as we flew forward in space. We were the Enterprise of Star Trek flying through space.

After laying my eyes on my only child after birth it was the most beautiful sight to witness. I stood there, and life was timeless. All things were beautiful, and this was everything. Looking out the 8 large front windows of Imagine while we flew through the stars will never leave me, NEVER! Her bows piercing the back of waves, and stars exploding everywhere. Yes in the same ugly moment to decide to turn around. I was gifted this beauty, and I will be back. One other thing of beauty came to me. I have struggled with the many thousands of miles Mel,, and I have sailed together. To get her involved in handling the sails. I have basically single-handed Imagine all these years. Mel would stand a good watch. She would drive the boat while anchoring, or raising the anchor. She would attempt to keep the bows into the wind while I reefed the main. This has always been an issue between us.

She did handle the boat last year while I slept when the pain was in my head, and wrapped around my brain. Once I woke I was scared, because we were over canvassed, and sailing so fast we were jumping from wave to wave like a dolphin. I was afraid we could’ve stuffed the bows into a wave, and brought down the rigging.

Now that she has seen what can happen when someone doesn’t know any better. She has taken a deep interest in the sails. Although crew had spooked her with the damage to the sails. She would want to lower all sails at the sight of a dark cloud, or a puff of wind.

When the wind was almost non-existing. It was her, and I who got the spinnaker up, and kept the boat moving for several afternoons at a couple of knots. She paid attention to the trim of the sails. My wish is this will continue. I don’t care to depend, or wait on crew ever again. I just want to get to Hawaii, and then onto the S.F. Bay Area. If I am actually blessed with being healed through natural means. I want to continue to sail on, and sail to the Philippines. As always time will tell.

AT LAST FREEDOM

At last I have freedom from worry. I don’t have to worry what will be broken, or unattended next. Crew left yesterday, and after being on Imagine for 1 month. He still went to Mel, and complained the toilet was not flushing. Even Mel who has the patience of a saint. Even she had had enough of his hand holding. She told him he had to pump the bowl more. He claimed he pumped it enough. Finally she called him a liar. She told him how he had endangered all of us, and the boat by being deceptive about his skills in reefing.

I am at a lost as to what his motivation was to get on Imagine. When asked bluntly he was not honest. Honest would’ve been a reply that said I have never reefed a main in a gale. I do know the first day he asked if I could fill out a form for him to get sea time, and earn a seaman’s card. What ever his motivation was I think it was a selfish one. Possibly he just wanted a sailboat ride. Possibly he wanted to fulfill what he called his life dream to become an able bodied seaman? I do know I am sure he will read this, and hopefully he will try to defend himself. If so there is more, so much more, and I will again ask where, and what reefing experience he truly has. I will ask for the proof. You can read about flying a plane, but it doesn’t mean you can actually fly one.

A certificate in sailing lessons doesn’t mean squat. When I took my lessons with 3 others. In the end none of them could trim the sails, reef the main, or sail on any point. What they could do was answer the test questions correctly, and this alone passed them. I know I felt cheated when the others were passed, but that’s life.

So here we are in Punta Arenas topping off with fresh veggies, fruits, and fuel. Mel, and I will take our time, and sail south to Golfito. There I will settle in, and get to work on Imagine while Mel flies home to earn money. Next I will get into our short time about being here in Costa Rica. It’s about small minds, kindness, and the beauty of what we have seen in a short time.