Sunday, May 31, 2009

Interview: Aeron at One Year

New Teeth
New Teeth
Originally uploaded by toastfloats.
Roughly a year ago, Keet asked me to interview the girls about their experience as boating kids and their thoughts on the future. The time has come to update their answers and ask a few new questions.

* * *

Q: What do you think about our plans for the coming year?
I don't really know all of them, but they sound exciting. New.

Q: What was your favorite place to go or thing to do during our first year?
Is this just in Vancouver? No. Okay. I like hiking and going to all the different places and seeing all the new different things. And I'm getting a laugh at all these light houses. We only had about one that I saw up in Vancouver. There are a lot more down here.

Q: What was your worst time during the first year?
Well, I have two things. When the heater broke, that SUCKED. And I didn't like getting stung in Cabo by a jelly fish that was huge.

Q: What is your favorite thing to do as a boat kid?
Play. Swing. Make friends. Can you tell us about the swinging? The swinging? Spinnaker halyard. You grab on to a line that pulls the spinnaker, and then you can swing around the mast. I like swimming too. Yep.

Q: What is the thing you hate most as a boat kid?
Well, I don't like it when Mera and Jaime and you (Mom) are all seasick and then Mera comes in and she's really mad at me when I'm sitting at the table with my video game. She's angry and that makes me angry but I'm not seasick. I hardly ever get seasick. And another thing I don't like is jelly fish and sting rays.

Q: Are there any places you want to go or see during the coming year? Where would you insist that we go again?
Yes. Zihuatanejo. And the Navaho National Monument. Huh? Where did you hear about that? My social studies book. It's about the American Indians. It was one of the places that they lived. And they carved houses into the walls, so they could live there. It's really cool. I want to go there.

Q: Can you tell us one thing that makes boating families special?
Attitude. *laughs* Okay... can you tell us more?I've got one, I've got one!!! Snorkeling. We don't have to pay to snorkel or hookah dive. Or diving period.

Q: Would you like to shout out to any boat buddies or boat kids who might be following this blog?
Yes!!! Totem and Windfall. Sirius Star, Bay Wolf, Third Day, Sunbreak, Kamaya, Abby, Polly, Noey, Superbunny, Max and Kat, Glenn, Daniel, Nirvana, Victory Cat, Jammin', Gosling. Profligate!!! I like Richard and Donya. EA and RD in Emeryville. And Endless Slumber, Sea Level.

If folks wanted to send a care package, what would want in it?
That's a good question. Books. Tiny tiny tiny amount of money. Cards... I like getting mail. Mail, not playing cards. I like getting mail, it makes me feel special if you know what I mean. Flowy clothing. Oh yeah, and BANDAIDS. Lots and lots of bandaids.

Q: Anything else you'd like to add?
Kid boats... Get up here, please! Por favor. We need more kid boats. It isn't that the adults aren't nice, but it's kind of nice having someone your own age to play with. See you this summer!

Solar Wind
Solar Wind
Originally uploaded by toastfloats.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Doing More With Less - Money

San Francisco South Anchorage
San Francisco South Anchorage
Originally uploaded by toastfloats.
Everything about doing more with less is about not spending money, resources, or both. Less food, less soap, less water, less electricity, less clothing. Less less less. It's all about money. On the other hand, there are ways to just stop spending money by the simple expedient of Not Spending the Money.

Now, I'm not an expert at this. There are experts. There are probably hundreds of web sites now devoted to helping folks save – or simply stop spending – money. I feel like an amateur in a growing cottage industry. All I have to offer is how the Conger family stops spending money... for which there is only one real tip:

Do not go to town.

For a cruiser, town presents a kaleidescope of pleasures and temptations, each of which is associated with a price tag. There is the marina – a safe haven of showers, clean laundry, endless water, and constant Internet access. There are grocery stores, chandlers, and hardware stores. There are fabric stores, clothing stores, electronic stores, and the granddaddy of all consumptive rat holes: WalMart. You can find taquerias, taco stands, and restaurants, panaderias, coffee shops, and bars. How about dinner out with friends? Or an evening listening to music at the local bar?

But pull the hook, drop the lines, motor sail out of the harbor and down the coastline ten miles, and all opportunities to spend money disappear. There may be a palapa from which you can purchase a beer or limonada... and then again, maybe there won't. Make your own water, cook all your own meals, sail from place to place, entertain yourselves and each other. There is literally no place to spend money.

In fact, I have tracked our expenditures for over a year now, and the data supports this conclusion. The total monthly spending for Don Quixote increases in direct proportion to the number of days we spend near a town. The longer we spend bobbing around in the middle of nowhere, the less we spend. And this isn't just a delayed gratification effect. You can see some of that in the data as we either provision before going out or fix things on our return. However, putting aside equipment purchases for boat repair, you still see a very strong correlation between increased expenses and town life.

When we go to town, we spend money. When we don't go to town, we don't.

That seems absurdly simplistic, but I wonder at times if we can use this as a metaphor for life. Even in the city – living in a house in the suburbs – we could pretend we are at anchor. Pretend like you can't run to the store for deli dinner, swing by the coffee shop on the way to work, or call for pizza. Imagine a house fifteen miles from the nearest civilization and no car to get there. What can you eat? How can you entertain yourself? Do you really need retail therapy in the form of new shoes or clothes or electronics or furniture or a night at the multiplex? If you couldn't connect to the Internet to buy something, would you buy it today? After thinking about the purchase for a week, would you still buy it or decide you could do without?

Personally, I plan to make a commitment on our return to civilization to declare “anchor out weeks” for the family. During those weeks, we absolutely won't buy anything. We'll provision and fuel up in advance, we'll make lists of what we need to buy when we “get back.” During those weeks, we will empty our wallets of cash and leave the credit cards at home. No doubt, anchoring out within walking distance of our favorite cafes is going to be more challenging with pitfalls, perils and temptations galore. On the other hand, we know we can do it, we've done it many times before, and it turns out that each and every time we've had to go for a few weeks without, we've survived. Perhaps more importantly, our checking account has done more than survived... it's thrived.
Agua Verda with a Catamaran
Agua Verda with a Catamaran
Originally uploaded by toastfloats.

Saturday, May 23, 2009

TechTip: YOTREPS

Short Answer
It's a pain in the neck, but go ahead and set up your YOTREPS account.

Long Story
So I have to admit a painful secret for a cruiser – I find the SSB (single side band) radio seriously annoying. I do not gain any pleasure dialing into the morning Amigo or Chubasco cruiser nets and listening to the checkins and weather. The hiss and pop and static make it impossibly challenging to listen to, and I find Don (who does weather every morning on Amigo Net) more than a little frustrating all by himself.

Jaime on the Radio
Jaime on the Radio
Originally uploaded by toastfloats.
But those irritations are actually minor compared to my single biggest beef with SSB systems: the software. Unless I'm missing something, all the software written to connect laptop computers to the SSB were written sometime prior to Windows 95. To a woman steeped in user interface design and super-satured with the daily tactile pleasure of working on a MacBook running Leopard, applications like AirMail, ITS HF Propagation, and WeatherFax are jarring, almost painful experiences. Put these horrid, kludgy ports on Microsoft Vista Home Premium and you have a perfect storm of endless frustration and viscerally disappointing moments.

And to make it all worse, you're supposed to use these tools connected in some great network on the air waves to send reports to probably the earliest social network site ever built: YOTREPS. YOTREPS collects the position and weather reports from boats all over the world, sharing them for the public, weather routers, and fellow cruisers. It was built and deployed in the dark ages and as near as I can tell, hasn't been upgraded since HTML 1.0.

I'm sure that circa 1992, YOTREPS plus SailMail plus an ICOM SSB and a Pactor modem were nothing short of miraculous. I have no doubt that at the time, cruisers must have been in heaven. Here was a tool which quickly and relatively painlessly posted to a public web site your latest position. AirMail even has a form built into the interface to prompt you for your position and weather information which it then converts into the text report required by the web site. It must have seemed the height of technology, pushing cruisers to the bleeding edge. In a world driven by Facebook, Twitter, and Flickr, however, this system is not just antiquated, it's comical.

So why am I going to recommend to cruisers-to-be that you invest the time and energy in getting and maintaining a YOTREPS account? Because YOTREPS adds a valuable piece to the communication puzzle. SPOT is a much better tracking system, but it doesn't work in the middle of the ocean. Twitter is a much better way to communicate to your friends and family what you are doing and works perfectly over SailMail, but it doesn't have a map to enable folks to easily track your progress. Finally – and most importantly – YOTREPS is still widely accepted as a resource for weather routers and meteorologists to obtain real-time data about conditions on the high seas. I put YOTREPS in the same necessary evil category as pooper scoopers and mammograms.

Our own communication plan relies on combining the three services: SPOT, YOTREPS, and Twitter to provide a constant stream of information back to the people who worry and care. Now I'll grant you, we may be getting a little carried away with all this tweeting and posting and reporting, but at least there is very little chance anyone will lose us is in the stunningly beautiful wilderness down in the Sea of Cortez.
YOTREPS
YOTREPS
Originally uploaded by toastfloats.

Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Interview: Jaime At One Year

Pass the Gorgeous Lady
Pass the Gorgeous Lady
Originally uploaded by toastfloats.
Roughly a year ago, Keet asked me to interview the girls about their experience as boating kids and their thoughts on the future. The time has come to update and ask a few new questions.

* * *

Q: What do you think about our plans for the coming year?
I don't know. Okay. They're fine.

Q: What was your favorite place to go or thing to do during our first year?
My favorite place to go was La Paz, but my favorite thing to do was go surfing with Stevo (Endless Summer) and Jimmy (Sea Level).

Q: What was your worst time during the first year?
I guess when we went to Zihautanejo and there were no kids, no one my own age, just lots of old people.

Q: What is your favorite thing to do as a boat kid?
Get together with lots of other boat kids and have bonfires and hang out on each other's boats.

Q: What is the thing you hate most as a boat kid?
The boredom. Other kids my age are only few and far between. So I get bored a lot. I listen to music when I get bored, or I watch movies. When I'm REALLY bored I do my school work... when I'm absolutely, petrifyingly bored.

Q: Are there any places you want to go or see during the coming year? Where would you insist that we go again?
I want to go back to La Paz, Zihautanejo, Tenacita, Mantenchen Bay, and Barra de Navidad. And La Cruz.

Q: Can you tell us one thing that makes boating families special?
We're not idiots? We don't live in a house. We get better experiences. We tend to be smarter. Better looking.

Q: Would you like to shout out to any boat buddies or boat kids who might be following this blog?
I don't know of anybody who follows our blog. Hello, people of the world. This is Jaime. Life is good. Yeah, that's all I got to say.

Q: Anything else you'd like to add?
No.
My Young Lady
My Young Lady
Originally uploaded by toastfloats.

Friday, May 15, 2009

I'm Melting

Peek a Boo
Peek a Boo
Originally uploaded by toastfloats.
As I stowed our laundry this afternoon, I was struck by the peculiar sense of humor evidenced by the weather gods. Three weeks ago, we spent a brisk week with a fleet of boats enjoying the stunning anchorages of Islas Partida, Espiratu Santos, San Francisco and San Jose. Sea of Cortez Sailing Week 2009 was treated to a feast of fantastic sailing days with winds from just the right direction at 15 to 20 knots. We blew up during the first half of the week, and we blew even more briskly back to La Paz during the second half. The fleet enjoyed the days hiking on rocks, lolling on decks, and exploring salt flats and agate covered beaches, soaking up the twin pleasures of warm sunshine and cool breezes.

The evenings, however, were quite brisk. Sailors unearthed fleece, foul weather gear and sweat pants to rub elbows on the beaches with Richard, Donya, and the crew of s/v Profligate. Hot dishes didn't stay hot, cold dishes stayed cold. We jumped around a lot. The young un's playing volleyball half in and half out of the water came out blue, and we had to send them back to their boats for clean, dry clothes. None of us made it much past sunset. Teeth chattering is a party killer.

DrC broke out the milk frother for the first time in months for our morning coffees. I haven't seen it in months since we long since tacitly agreed that luke warm coffee on hot mornings is tastier. We hadn't quite moved to iced coffee, but I suspect that was not far in the future. However, with the temperature dropping to a bone chilling 60 degrees at night, sunrises munching pan dulce on the deck were improved with good old steamed milk topping our espresso.

At night, DrC and I battled over the down comforter. We used to have two: his and hers, if you will. But in Zihautanejo, DrC insisted he no longer needed one. His way of communicating this was to throw his off in a fit of overheated, masculine aggression. I would wake from a nightmare involving sweat, small biting insects, and a football team to find myself buried in a foot and a half of bird feathers and flannel. I finally got fed up and stowed his comforter, folded mine neatly at the foot of the bed, and set the bed up with a small fleece throw and a queen size sheet.

The deeply penetrating cold of April in the Sea of Cortez, however, had DrC ripping my cover off of me each night. It was the classic marital, grab-and-roll maneuver in which the larger partner in a long term relationship manages somehow to strip the smaller of all covers leaving them frozen and bare-assed while simultaneously and self-righteously denying the same since it all happens while the bigger one is profoundly asleep. After two nights of this nonsense, I dug into the cavernous locker under the master bed and found a second comforter, the telescope, and two reams of white paper.

Emails galore should wing off to the organizers of Sea of Cortez Sailing Week requesting that this event take place in late April instead of early April. Moving from the warmth of Puerto Vallarta and Manzanillo into the chill of La Paz is hard on marriages. But apparently, if you just wait three weeks, all is well since Easter signals the end of winter in La Paz and sends the temperature soaring.

High View
High View
Originally uploaded by toastfloats.
Which brings us back to my laundry. It takes us weeks to get our laundry done. I'm standing in my cabin stowing fleece pullovers, heavy socks, two pairs of sweats, long sleeve shirts, and DrC's Cal sweatshirt. I'm hiding down here, because it's 98 on the deck, 95 in the cockpit and there isn't a breath of wind. As I push the fleece to the back of the locker, I muse on the fickleness of weather. And of husbands. No way do I want another down-induced, sweaty football team dream – as provocative as that might otherwise sound. With a vigorous shove and a grunt of preemptive satisfaction, I consign winter to fate and the second comforter to the wilderness of our main locker.

Monday, May 11, 2009

Cooking Tip: Limonado

More Teeth Please
More Teeth Please
Originally uploaded by toastfloats.
This isn't really cooking; It's adaptation. It turns out that in Mexico, water is frequently more expensive than beer. Go figure. Limonado is definitely more expensive than beer. The girls, however, are addicted to limonado. In fact, it is oddly satisfying to watch the girls order a “jarro de limonado sien azucar” at every bar, cafe, and palapa from Zihuatanejo to La Paz. Basically, they are ordering lime water. Their dedication to their favorite beverage is such that I had to add a lime juicer to the boat. We purchase mini-Mexican limes by multiple kilo bags, and I try to keep us stocked in agua minerale. Otherwise, the entire cruising kitty would evaporate in a lime induced coma.

For those in the States pining for a taste of real Mexico, I recommend the following beverage:

1 tumbler full of water, mineral water, or ginger ale
3 fresh limon (mini limes) or 1 large regular sized lime
sugar (optional)
ice

That's it. Put it together. Drink it. No tricks.

Now for the cooking tip. I found this idea in Kay's cruising cookbook, and I endorse it highly. When you are either land bound and find cheap limes or provisioning for a long stretch, you can make limonada concentrate. Kay's recommended ratios are:

2 cups fresh squeeze lime juice
2 cups sugar
1 cups water

The Limonado Gang
The Limonado Gang
Uploaded by toastfloats, taken by Anne Brown.
Stow in a sealable jar such as a large mayonnaise jar. To serve, add mineral water, water, ginger ale, or tequilla to taste and serve over ice. My girls prefer less sugar, but remember that the sugar is partially serving as a preservative here so you can't eliminate it entirely. We've never been able to make this last in our refrigerator for more than four days so I can't vouch personally for durability. Kay says several weeks, and I believe her as her other long range provisioning tips are excellent.

Next time we make it, I'm going to toss it into the bottom of the freezer and not pull it out until the girls and DrC have blown through all the fresh food on the boat. That'll show em.

Thursday, May 07, 2009

Interview: DrC At One Year

Contemplating the View
Contemplating the View
Originally uploaded by toastfloats.
Roughly a year ago, Keet asked me to interview the girls about their experience as boating kids and their thoughts on the future. The time has come to update and ask a few new questions as well as get some thoughts from DrC.

* * *

Q: What do you think about our plans for the coming year?
Vague. They may change. Except for Sea of Cortez revisiting same places again less appealing. If job in NZ or AU comes we may cross the Pacific.

Q: What was your favorite place to go or thing to do during our first year?
I like the hikes. There are lots of hikes: hikes in Canada, hikes here in the sea. I like playing my guitar. Other things I liked are not printable in a family format.

Q: What was your worst time during the first year?
Probably that gale in Oregon or actually dragging anchor off Santa Cruz in the Channel Islands at three o'clock in the morning with 35 knots of wind in a Santa Ana in a tiny little rocky anchorage with a reef 50 yards behind us. Both were scary. In the case of the gale, it was good to have experienced it, and it wasn't really as bad in retrospect as it seemed at the time. It makes me glad we were going downwind. Basically, even if we weren't we would have turned around... so it's kind of just the way you do it. As far as the gale goes that's just kind of inevitable and if handled properly it need not be a dangerous thing.

With dragging anchor, it was more anxiety provoking of passengers/crew. That's not an experience I need to repeat. There was no benefit to that experience other than being better able to avoid it in the future.

Q: What is the best thing about being a full time cruising sailor?
It's interesting being a vagabond and not having any major responsibilities to the outside world. And watching to see if that would be a liberating experience or not over time. Any conclusions drawn so far...is it liberating? Possibly. Don't know yet. Take another year.

Q: What is the thing you hate most about the cruising life?
I guess having things break down that I've already fixed once before. Also, the dirtiness of the boat, inside and out. When we visit boats that only have an older couple on board, their boats are always so clean and orderly, it looks more luxurious, less like camping.

Q: Are there any places you want to go or see during the coming year? Where would you insist that we go again?
Well, I think the Sea of Cortez is nice. I'm looking forward to exploring it. It's all kind of nice, but I think the SoC is the only place I'd want to visit more than once. Las Hadas and Manzanillo were nice. Not having anything to do but go to the pool all day... It would be nice to do some inland traveling. I'd like to go to the village where they make guitars... see where the Zapatotec weavers do their thing.

Q: Can you tell us one thing that makes boating families special?
Well, the interactions of the family members with strangers. Openness to new experiences, especially the kids. Probably, an enlightened trait. What does that mean?Well you know this is what Buddha would say you should do with your life in some aspects. I think it seems like what life is supposed to be about. So, to the extent that we achieve that, I think that we are leading an enlightened life, succeeding in the way that the kids and you are open to meeting people, trying things, doing new things, rather than just sitting at home watching tv and living the old life.

It's not so much the travel itsef which is liberating or whatever you want to call it. It's the reactions of the kids and the interactions of the kids with other people and their growth.

Q: Anything else you'd like to add?
Um. The extent to which I don't worry about things as much is an advantage. I don't think I've achieved any sort of goal there, but I've made progress. It wasn't really a goal to become blasé about things, more so just to be able to appreciate the benefits of this type of lifestyle.
Proud Papa
Proud Papa
Originally uploaded by toastfloats.

Sunday, May 03, 2009

Are You a Hooker?

Yoga at Marina de La Paz
Yoga at Marina de La Paz
Originally uploaded by toastfloats.
When I spoke of this season's catitude, I think I depressed a few readers with my persistent combination of smugness and defensiveness about living on a multihull. Even at the time, I made clear that there are a lot of ways you can split the cruising community down demographic and philosophical lines. All are more or less “true” in the sense that the lines exist, the differences are real, and you can see the social dynamics play themselves out on a daily basis. However, it turns out that multihull versus monohull is not even one of the big players in the cruiser schism game.

Almost as profound as the division between sticks (sail) and smokers (power) is the gulf between those who spend the majority of their time at anchor and those who live on the dock. At times, this gulf is nigh on uncrossable since it goes to the heart of cruising philosophy.

Now, obviously there is no way a cruiser can completely avoid periodically throwing out the ground tackle and living on the hook. So we all invest in good ground tackle and learn how to use it. We endlessly sit over drinks and debate the merits of Rockna versus Bruce, scope ratios, storm tactics, bridling and holding ground. However, for all that effort and discussion, once you get out in the cruising grounds, the fleet tends to dissolve into two basic camps: those that live on the dock (dockers) and those that live on the hook (hookers).

Dockers prefer the convenience, comfort, and beauty of the marina. Dockers are clean: their boats are clean, the cloths are clean, their dishes are clean. Dockers know how to negotiate with the local harbor master to get the best weekly and monthly rates. They can tell you where to get Puddle Jumper discounts (12 bottles of dark rum for about $35USD is only my most favorite example). When they pull into a town, they spend weeks or months learning everything there is to know, participating in charitable events, going to all the amateur and professional musical nights, identifying each and every quality tienda, mercada, and restaurant. Their experience of any single city is deep, their knowledge wide, and their enjoyment manifest.

Hookers, on the other hand, prefer the nomadic, camping life of the hook. Hookers are filthy: their boats are salty, their clothes often stand up and try to walk away. Hookers know how to tuck into even the smallest bight to get protection from wind driven fetch and Pacific swell. They know how to negotiate with pangeuras to have fuel, laundry, beer, and fish delivered to the boat. They visit remote villages, natural parks, off shore islands, and open surfing road steads. When they come into a big town, they frequently stay only long enough to take on fuel, food, and clean clothes before letting the wind blow them back to quieter, more remote locations.

Now, nothing is absolute. Every once in awhile, a hooker spends a week on a dock. Even then, their lifestyle choice manifests itself. Hookers in dock work very hard; Docking is an expensive opportunity to complete maintenance that simply can not be accomplished without quick access to hardware stores, water, or other facilities. Their experience of the local town is dominated bysail makers, machine shops, or fabric stores. Of course, they'll have some fun, take in a show, go to a potluck in the marina lobby, but these activities are only at the end of a long, hard day with the expectation of more work on the dawn. Their conversations with one another focus on solving their maintenance problems and getting out from under the expense of marina life as quickly as possible. Hookers are often on extremely limited budgets, and even in the dock, they constantly trade methods to save money.

Periodically, a docker spends a week on the hook. Dockers on the hook seem to view their time out as opportunity to vacation from their vacation. It's not unusual to see them pull into an anchorage and never drop their dinghy. They enjoy sundowners on the deck, gently complain to one another about the rolliness of the anchorage, and struggle with deploying flopper stoppers. They take a million pictures, and are generous with their time, food, and booze to the hookers already in situ. Dockers anchor more tentatively, and they seek the recommendations and advice of hookers for where to go, what to do, and which palapas to visit. Even on the hook, dockers are clean, have the freshest and tastiest finger foods, and serve drinks with ice.

When we set out, Don Quixote anticipated being one of that unusual breed of boats which lives a hybrid, hooker-docker lifestyle. An informal survey suggests that this is a common cruiser dream, assuming the cruising life will be similar to long vacations on the boat. Most thought they would divide their time roughly evenly between hook and dock.

But that's not really what happens. In practice, you find your life sliding into a docker or hooker pattern. Docking is so much cheaper here than in the States, that if you really like the dock lifestyle, you should be able to afford it. It's a wonderful way to live, to raise children, to enjoy and participate intimately with the Mexican and ex-expatriate communities along the water front. Hooking, however, also has an unexpectedly seductive appeal. A hooker can reduce a family's living expenses to less than $USD1000 per month, and the longer you live on the hook, the easier it becomes, the more liberating the pull away from land based concerns.

Contemplating the View
Contemplating the View
Originally uploaded by toastfloats.
I apologize if I have failed to be objective in this article; we are hookers. Even last summer in the Northwest, our time between dock visits grew steadily longer, but now here in Mexico, we basically do not dock at all. From the time we said goodbye to Victory Cat in December to the time we pulled next to Totem in March, our fenders never came out. After a week of intense scrubbing and maintenance, we abandoned the pull of the La Cruz marina in favor of bobbing around in the La Paz Magote or swinging on the hook out in the southern Baja islands. We empathize with and admire those who drop the lines in late October and do not pull again into a marina until it's time to put the boat to bed for the hurricane season the following July.

The hardships of hooking are well repaid in the economic savings and the sense of empowerment and freedom providing by life outside of the box. On the other hand, the dock box is a lot cleaner. And you can't really overestimate the pull of ice cubes in the rum punch.