The boat teaches many lessons in conservation. This is part of an ongoing series of posts about how we boaters do more with considerably less. The tips are valid for land based life as well, though, so hopefully folks can use some of these ideas.
* * *
No matter how long I cruise and no matter how many times and in how many methods people ask this question, the answer to "How do you entertain yourself on a boat?" remains a helpless shrug. In the Real World™ we had so many distractions, even after we turned off the television and discontinued cable. We could go to the movies, a museum, the zoo, the beach. There were restaurants and cafes. Our friends were nearby, our shelves filled with books…. oh god the libraries. The libraries.
Let's pause for a moment to contemplate the duel wonders of the Internet and Libraries. You people who live with ubiquitous access to both resources should never ever EVER take them for granted.
After you cut the lines and head out into remote anchorages, foreign countries whose primary language is not your native tongue, places where going out for pizza really isn't an option, it is an interesting question just how to spend copious free time. However, despite the paucity of civilized amusements and the wealth of free time available, I have yet to meet a bored cruiser. Tired, frustrated, dirty, miserable, or unhappy, but never bored. I haven't even met a bored boat kid which -- given the nature of children -- seems somewhat miraculous. So just what are we doing?
Read Anything -- At this point, I think every member of this family is willing to read absolutely anything published in English, up to and including computer user guides. If you start your cruising life as a lover of science fiction or fantasy, you'll soon learn to enjoy mysteries, diesel mechanic manuals, and even… say it isn't so… romance novels. Alternatively, if you enjoy a good bodice ripper but haven't read great literature since English 101 in college, you'll start to find yourself reading H.G. Wells and Shakespeare. Reading taste for cruisers is largely determined by what you find at the many book exchanges along the way. Every marina, yacht club, restaurant, and laundry room patronized by the cruising community has at least one shelf… in some cases an entire wall… devoted to casual literature. It is crucial to your happiness that you become agnostic regarding genre and open to new literary experiences. Consequently, I can now list Two Years Before the Mast as one of my favorite books of all time. However, I never want to read another account of sailors lost at sea again. Ugh.
Get a Hobby -- We've seen cruisers that knit, quilt, cook, and bead. There is one that crochets handbags out of plastic grocery bags and another who specializes in shell earrings. Like DrC, many cruisers take up an instrument or revisit one they learned many years ago. Others write stories, poetry, or blogs, carve wood, work on their photography, make videos, or build elaborate web sites. It is a good idea to become invested in your hobby before you leave, particularly if the materials and tools are going to prove difficult to find in other countries. Also, be open to discovering new hobbies while you are out here.
Walk… A Lot -- Hiking is our passion. We walk everywhere. One of the limitations of cruising the Pacific Northwest is that it is far more challenging to walk around up there than it is down in Mexico. In the desert, the horizon is literally limitless. We walk in the wilderness and in towns, up ridge lines and over to remote anchorages. Walking is good for the health, kills hours of time, and enables you to dramatically expand your horizons. A pastime which we did not take up but which many of our fellow travelers endorse is kayaking. I think of this as walking on water providing similar benefits and pleasures.
Learn to Play -- I think adults outgrow games and play as we age. Forgive me for saying so, but I attribute this loss in no small part to the industrialization of education. Somewhere between 6th grade and graduation, we tell our children to stop screwing around, stop having fun and get to work. It's a shame. We should never stop playing. From play comes some of our best ideas and our happiest moments. DrC and I, and even to a lesser extent our daughters, have reacquainted ourselves with the pleasure of play. We play Scrabble and Sorry, Gin and Rummy. We enjoy video games on our computers and handhelds as well as solo logic puzzles such as Sudoku and Crosswords. Mera and Aeron have sustained The Game long after I think most children would have abandoned it. One of our favorite games is Mexican Train which we enjoy with our cruising buddies on warm evenings.
Do It Yourself -- Boat life requires constant work and maintenance. It forces you to think creatively about how to fix, create, repair, replace and build it yourself. Once you start down that path, it seems increasingly stupid to buy. Don Quixote sports shelves, curtains, lockers, hooks, and covers all made by a member of this family. We make our winter Solstice gifts each year, and we spend a lot of time sanding, painting, varnishing, cleaning, polishing, waxing, and lubing. You can either suffer through all this work (which I do) or you can try to enjoy it. I'm working on this. I enjoy some of it.
Relax Your Mind -- The need for speed in the real world drives our entertainment consumption as much as it does our work life. There is an urgency to everything, a constant requirement of movement and activity. Cruising life teaches lessons about patience and relaxation. It is okay just to sit still for awhile and listen to the water sluice past the hulls, to lie in bed and watch the sun rise through the port hole, to sit in a palapa and watch the children play on the beach. This one catechism is so difficult for me; I am a Type A, hyperactive, pressure addict. DrC, though considerably more silent, is arguably even less capable of sitting still. It has been hard for us to learn passivity. However, the most elusive yet satisfying moments of our lives are those wherein we just sit side by side contemplating the horizon and feeling warm, happy, loved, satisfied with a moment requiring no embellishment.
Hours go by, days vanish, entire weeks and months simply slip into the past and never do we hear or feel the plaint, "Are we there yet?" When the journey is the destination, it's easier to be entertained by the present.
Showing posts with label questions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label questions. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Friendship Meme for 2009
We all get these over the ‘tubes... and as a rule, I ignore them. On the other hand, 2008 was a banner year for folks starting to read Toast Floats for the first time. In fact, it was the year in which the number of readers related to me was far surpassed by the readers who simply stumbled over this blog. So maybe a Friendship Meme actually offers an opportunity to those folks to get to know something about me rather than an insipid recreation of middle school slam books. Or maybe I just can’t think of anything else to write about this week.
What time did you get up this morning?
Sunrise. Does anyone know what time that is in Zihua this time of year?
Diamonds or pearls?
Tanzanite.
What was the last film you saw at the cinema?
I have absolutely no idea. The damn thing was in Spanish, animated, it had a dog, there wasn’t any popcorn, and the Coke was divine. I love Mexican Coke. Americans need to dump corn syrup in favor of whatever they are using down here if our country is ever to get back on track.
What is your favorite TV show?
We have all seven seasons of Angel, two seasons of Farscape, and three seasons of Battlestar Galatica. I’d trade them all at this point for Eureka and the rest of Farscape. It’s all about the trade, baby.
What do you usually have for breakfast?
Pan dulce and a cafe au lait. Thanks to s/v Beach Access, though, we’re beginning to reclaim the concept of fruit smoothie for the morning meal. Probably healthier. The fruit down here is just amazing.
What is your middle name?
Toast. *laughs* No shit. There have got to be at least a dozen readers blinking in amazement. What? Did you think I just pulled “Toast” out of a hat? Okay, I did... but I also had it changed to my legal middle name when I married DrC.
What foods do you dislike?
I -want- to dislike packaged foods, but I have an unfortunate love of cookies and sugar corn pops. I’ve discovered I have a strong aversion to innards, and the more times I see them spread out at the mercado, the firmer I am of the opinion that guts are nasty and should not be eaten. Nor should pig heads or chicken feet... although Behan really wants to convince me otherwise on the feet, “Tastes just like chicken!”
What is your favorite CD at the moment?
No CDs. We ripped everything to iTunes before we cut the lines and left the disks in an enormous box in my mother’s garage. I’m really fond of a mix my father in law made of every piece of popular music he could find with the words “sail” or “sailing” in the lyrics. I’m also painfully addicted to listening to the score for High School Musical while doing chores.
What kind of car do you drive?
Avon 10’ dinghy with a Mercury outboard. I think we’ll go back to the 9.9 Yamaha, though, as soon as we can move the planing fins and get the 15HP upgrade.
Favorite sandwich?
Tacos.
What characteristic do you despise?
Isms. All of them. Indiscriminately.
Favorite item of clothing?
Clean panties.
If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go?
Some place featuring a king sized bed with box springs and dry sheets.
Where would you retire?
Any place cleaner than my boat.
Favorite sport to watch?
Kitty Climb the Main Sail
When is your birthday?
September -- I’m a Virgo.
Are you a morning person or a night person?
Morningish.
What is your shoe size?
My Crocs say that I’m a Mens 6. That’s weird.
Pets?
Do children count?
Any new and exciting news you'd like to share with us?
DrC has been in Seattle for nearly two weeks, and I have neither sunk the boat nor drowned my children. I’m feeling pretty smug about that.
What did you want to be when you were little?
I wanted to build an electric car.
What is your favorite candy?
Whatever is on the boat at the moment I have a craving for sweets.
What is your favorite flower?
Lavender.
What is a day on the calendar you are looking forward to?
I deleted the calendar. I even emptied the Trash just to make sure it was gone. It’s a little frustrating, but it turns out that you can’t delete the Date & Time function on a Mac so Apple Bruce tells me what time it is every hour. Tomorrow is a good day. I’ll figure out how to shut up Bruce tomorrow.
What is your favorite pastime?
Wasting time on the Internet.
What are you listening to right now?
Skidoos. I hate those things. I need a weapon that I could mount on the bow that would neatly take them out when they get too close. The only thing worse than skidoos are those idiot parasailors who keep trying to hit the mast.
What was the last thing you ate?
Bollo and manchega with sliced cucumbers and papaya.
Do you wish on stars?
Yep.
If you were a crayon, what color would you be?
Okay, that’s just a stupid question. As an aside, did you know they now have Crayons of the color “Macaroni and cheese”? Do you ever wonder how much Kraft had to pay Crayola to make that happen?
How is the weather right now?
Tropical paradise if you like that sort of thing.
The first person you spoke to on the phone today?
No phone. Girls did the morning cruisers’ net, so it was probably a fellow boat.
Favorite soft drink?
Fresca Toranja. I could live on it. You might know it as just Fresca.
Favorite restaurant?
We always walk up into town far enough to leave behind 95% of the fat, white tourists from up North. The prices drop and the quality improves. Then we search out a restaurant stuffed to the gills with locals.
Real hair color?
Black and grey wires are starting to insert themselves into my mousy brown bristle brush while at the same time, the sun is bleaching the hell out of the lot of it. It’s just a disaster.
What was your favorite toy as a child?
Men.
Summer or winter?
Spring.
Hugs or kisses?
Cuddling.
Chocolate or Vanilla?
Blackberries. Okay, there is definitely a theme here, I realize. These memes assume you are essentially normal. What do you bet the next question is “Coffee or tea?” “Paper or plastic?” or “Skis or snowboard?”
Coffee or tea?
See?
When was the last time you cried?
The kids brought me to tears a few days ago from sheer, unadulterated frustration. I haven’t had a really good all and out bawl however in quite awhile. It might have been when Greg died, and I was reminded that we’re not immortal.
What is under your bed?
Two giganormous D-Cell batteries, a 26 HP Yanmar engine and 20 gallons of highly explosive fuel... Booo yah! There aren’t many women who can say that.
What did you do last night?
Made grilled cheese and smoothies for the girls and Beach Access. Went skinny dipping after everyone went to bed and watched my body light up the water as I moved around the boat.
What are you afraid of?
Something happening to DrC when the girls and are not there to help him.
Salty or sweet?
Salty.
How many keys on your key ring?
It’s more like a float. Let’s see... dinghy lock, starter engine x 2, door padlock. Five? That sounds about right. Any more and the thing would sink.
How many towns have you lived in?
Counting Zihua? A lot.
How many years at your current job?
*laughs*
What time did you get up this morning?
Sunrise. Does anyone know what time that is in Zihua this time of year?
Diamonds or pearls?
Tanzanite.
What was the last film you saw at the cinema?
I have absolutely no idea. The damn thing was in Spanish, animated, it had a dog, there wasn’t any popcorn, and the Coke was divine. I love Mexican Coke. Americans need to dump corn syrup in favor of whatever they are using down here if our country is ever to get back on track.
What is your favorite TV show?
We have all seven seasons of Angel, two seasons of Farscape, and three seasons of Battlestar Galatica. I’d trade them all at this point for Eureka and the rest of Farscape. It’s all about the trade, baby.
What do you usually have for breakfast?
Pan dulce and a cafe au lait. Thanks to s/v Beach Access, though, we’re beginning to reclaim the concept of fruit smoothie for the morning meal. Probably healthier. The fruit down here is just amazing.
What is your middle name?
Toast. *laughs* No shit. There have got to be at least a dozen readers blinking in amazement. What? Did you think I just pulled “Toast” out of a hat? Okay, I did... but I also had it changed to my legal middle name when I married DrC.
What foods do you dislike?
I -want- to dislike packaged foods, but I have an unfortunate love of cookies and sugar corn pops. I’ve discovered I have a strong aversion to innards, and the more times I see them spread out at the mercado, the firmer I am of the opinion that guts are nasty and should not be eaten. Nor should pig heads or chicken feet... although Behan really wants to convince me otherwise on the feet, “Tastes just like chicken!”
What is your favorite CD at the moment?
No CDs. We ripped everything to iTunes before we cut the lines and left the disks in an enormous box in my mother’s garage. I’m really fond of a mix my father in law made of every piece of popular music he could find with the words “sail” or “sailing” in the lyrics. I’m also painfully addicted to listening to the score for High School Musical while doing chores.
What kind of car do you drive?
Avon 10’ dinghy with a Mercury outboard. I think we’ll go back to the 9.9 Yamaha, though, as soon as we can move the planing fins and get the 15HP upgrade.
Favorite sandwich?
Tacos.
What characteristic do you despise?
Isms. All of them. Indiscriminately.
Favorite item of clothing?
Clean panties.
If you could go anywhere in the world on vacation, where would you go?
Some place featuring a king sized bed with box springs and dry sheets.
Where would you retire?
Any place cleaner than my boat.
Favorite sport to watch?
Kitty Climb the Main Sail
When is your birthday?
September -- I’m a Virgo.
Are you a morning person or a night person?
Morningish.
What is your shoe size?
My Crocs say that I’m a Mens 6. That’s weird.
Pets?
Do children count?
Any new and exciting news you'd like to share with us?
DrC has been in Seattle for nearly two weeks, and I have neither sunk the boat nor drowned my children. I’m feeling pretty smug about that.
What did you want to be when you were little?
I wanted to build an electric car.
What is your favorite candy?
Whatever is on the boat at the moment I have a craving for sweets.
What is your favorite flower?
Lavender.
What is a day on the calendar you are looking forward to?
I deleted the calendar. I even emptied the Trash just to make sure it was gone. It’s a little frustrating, but it turns out that you can’t delete the Date & Time function on a Mac so Apple Bruce tells me what time it is every hour. Tomorrow is a good day. I’ll figure out how to shut up Bruce tomorrow.
What is your favorite pastime?
Wasting time on the Internet.
What are you listening to right now?
Skidoos. I hate those things. I need a weapon that I could mount on the bow that would neatly take them out when they get too close. The only thing worse than skidoos are those idiot parasailors who keep trying to hit the mast.
What was the last thing you ate?
Bollo and manchega with sliced cucumbers and papaya.
Do you wish on stars?
Yep.
If you were a crayon, what color would you be?
Okay, that’s just a stupid question. As an aside, did you know they now have Crayons of the color “Macaroni and cheese”? Do you ever wonder how much Kraft had to pay Crayola to make that happen?
How is the weather right now?
Tropical paradise if you like that sort of thing.
The first person you spoke to on the phone today?
No phone. Girls did the morning cruisers’ net, so it was probably a fellow boat.
Favorite soft drink?
Fresca Toranja. I could live on it. You might know it as just Fresca.
Favorite restaurant?
We always walk up into town far enough to leave behind 95% of the fat, white tourists from up North. The prices drop and the quality improves. Then we search out a restaurant stuffed to the gills with locals.
Real hair color?
Black and grey wires are starting to insert themselves into my mousy brown bristle brush while at the same time, the sun is bleaching the hell out of the lot of it. It’s just a disaster.
What was your favorite toy as a child?
Men.
Summer or winter?
Spring.
Hugs or kisses?
Cuddling.
Chocolate or Vanilla?
Blackberries. Okay, there is definitely a theme here, I realize. These memes assume you are essentially normal. What do you bet the next question is “Coffee or tea?” “Paper or plastic?” or “Skis or snowboard?”
Coffee or tea?
See?
When was the last time you cried?
The kids brought me to tears a few days ago from sheer, unadulterated frustration. I haven’t had a really good all and out bawl however in quite awhile. It might have been when Greg died, and I was reminded that we’re not immortal.
What is under your bed?
Two giganormous D-Cell batteries, a 26 HP Yanmar engine and 20 gallons of highly explosive fuel... Booo yah! There aren’t many women who can say that.
What did you do last night?
Made grilled cheese and smoothies for the girls and Beach Access. Went skinny dipping after everyone went to bed and watched my body light up the water as I moved around the boat.
What are you afraid of?
Something happening to DrC when the girls and are not there to help him.
Salty or sweet?
Salty.
How many keys on your key ring?
It’s more like a float. Let’s see... dinghy lock, starter engine x 2, door padlock. Five? That sounds about right. Any more and the thing would sink.
How many towns have you lived in?
Counting Zihua? A lot.
How many years at your current job?
*laughs*
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Questions from the Class - Connecting to the Internet
Question: In Episode 522 of the Daily Giz Wiz, Dick asks Leo, “Is she connecting to the Internet via satellite?” Leo and Dick speculate for a moment before Leo verbally throws up his hand and says, “That's a good question.”
Answer: Yes, it is. Connecting to the Internet from a boat can be tricky. While the process gets easier and cheaper as technology advances, we still must deal with the challenge of connecting something land based to something floating around in the middle of nowhere. Even the most shore-fixated boat is rarely connected to anything more substantial than a dock cleat. How you get online depends on where you are and what you need to accomplish: On shore you do your bulk, multi-media transfers; In or near a marina you conduct daily business with short posts, blogs and overnight downloads; Out in the middle of nowhere you connect for safety reasons.
On Shore – Cruisers are the ultimate road warriors when it comes to on shore connectivity. The crew of s/v Don Quixote grows increasingly adept at finding free wifi hot spots in the oddest spots. For example, did you know that you can sit outside of most Apple stores on a comfortable mall bench and mooch broadband? Starbuck's service is great now that all you have to do is purchase a latte. Of course, virtually every small coffee shop in the country now trumpets free wifi. Other great places to pull bits include: public libraries, rich homeowners with more money than security sense, and cool Internet hippies with “Hack the Planet!” and “All Your Base Are Belong to Mine” bumper stickers in their apartment window.
If you can't find it free, you can usually find some place to pay for broadband. McDonald's has their own network which means there is wifi access literally everywhere in the world; Unfortunately, it costs money, smells like old fry grease, and the children's screams can drop elk in their tracks. Most hotels have a net they'll let you use for a small fee, and you can always count on a copy place like FedExKinko's.*
“Internet cafe” is a redundant term in the U.S. where every cafe has Internet access. However, in other countries, this is precisely what you find – shops whose primary purpose is to offer broadband service. And “Oh... would you like a cerveza with that?” We've had little reason to seek out these types of establishments as we haven't yet ventured beyond the shores of the U.S. and Canada, but it's only a matter of time. We're very happy to hear the reports from other cruisers that these establishments are flourishing in every corner of the world.
In or Near a Marina – As with coffee shops, it has become standard for marinas to broadcast wireless service out over their harbor. Most subcontract to ISPs which provide coverage for a wide swath of coastline. For example, we currently subscribe to BBXpress broadcasting from most major and minor ports throughout Oregon, Washington, and southern British Columbia. You can subscribe daily, monthly or annually. They even have a reciprocity agreement with a provider down in California so it's not likely we'll need to look elsewhere until we cross into Mexico.
Using a marina service, it is a very good idea to invest in a card and/or antennae to extend your range and increase the power of your laptop card. We recently purchased an Edimax card from Urwifiguy. Look, you can clearly buy more powerful sets, run line up the mast, and make the whole thing bullet proof. I'd argue, though, that tech changes so fast you are probably better off buying a cheap, adequate set today and upgrading to another, better version in 18 months. You'll still spend less than the “marine hardened” brands.
Out In the Middle of Nowhere – There are really expensive things you can do to get a high speed connection to the Internet while you're bobbing out in the middle of nowhere. These solutions are highly appropriate for the merchant marine, the military, and people with more money than god. They are not particularly useful or affordable for the rest of us. Moreover, spending the money isn't really necessary. Something like 95% of a cruiser's life is spent bobbing at an anchorage where a little elbow grease and a good war driving antennae will get you decent service from the comfort of your salon.
So for those odd passages and occasional times where you really must connect while out of reach of somebody else's wifi router, the solution is SSB, a Pactor modem, and a crappy piece of Windows software which hooks you up to AirMail. While the bandwidth is absolutely bad by modern standards (2200 kbps is a good day), the computer <=> modem <=> radio option works well enough to send and receive critical messages and to download weather data. We are just starting to use our rig, and the thing more or less makes me want to take out a hammer and go postal. The only method I've found to endure the limits of the WinLink software and glacial speed is to pull out a bottle of red wine and disappear into my cabin until the damn thing is done. We plan to use radio mail to send a daily position and status tweet to Twitter or Jaiku and otherwise pretend it doesn't exist.
There is also good news on the horizon for those who, like me, hate paying monopoly rates to SCS Pactor for their proprietary protocol. Open source alternatives to enable radio to Internet communication are beginning to spread. I am watching with great interest the growth of both Xastir and PKSMail. Someday, I may pitch this Pactor modem overboard and just get my Mac to cozy up directly to the SSB.
* * *
The bad old days of cruising families disappearing into the sunset ne'er to be heard from again are long gone. If you want to exchange tweets with friends and family, daily connectivity is within the reach of any moderately well heeled cruiser. And there is something to be said for sailing into harbor, grabbing a beer and a bowl of chips, and gorging on Diggnation, Wait Wait... and MacBreak Weekly all in a single sitting.
* Is there are more sad attempt at a merged logo than FedEx Kinko's anywhere in corporate America?
Answer: Yes, it is. Connecting to the Internet from a boat can be tricky. While the process gets easier and cheaper as technology advances, we still must deal with the challenge of connecting something land based to something floating around in the middle of nowhere. Even the most shore-fixated boat is rarely connected to anything more substantial than a dock cleat. How you get online depends on where you are and what you need to accomplish: On shore you do your bulk, multi-media transfers; In or near a marina you conduct daily business with short posts, blogs and overnight downloads; Out in the middle of nowhere you connect for safety reasons.
On Shore – Cruisers are the ultimate road warriors when it comes to on shore connectivity. The crew of s/v Don Quixote grows increasingly adept at finding free wifi hot spots in the oddest spots. For example, did you know that you can sit outside of most Apple stores on a comfortable mall bench and mooch broadband? Starbuck's service is great now that all you have to do is purchase a latte. Of course, virtually every small coffee shop in the country now trumpets free wifi. Other great places to pull bits include: public libraries, rich homeowners with more money than security sense, and cool Internet hippies with “Hack the Planet!” and “All Your Base Are Belong to Mine” bumper stickers in their apartment window.
If you can't find it free, you can usually find some place to pay for broadband. McDonald's has their own network which means there is wifi access literally everywhere in the world; Unfortunately, it costs money, smells like old fry grease, and the children's screams can drop elk in their tracks. Most hotels have a net they'll let you use for a small fee, and you can always count on a copy place like FedExKinko's.*
“Internet cafe” is a redundant term in the U.S. where every cafe has Internet access. However, in other countries, this is precisely what you find – shops whose primary purpose is to offer broadband service. And “Oh... would you like a cerveza with that?” We've had little reason to seek out these types of establishments as we haven't yet ventured beyond the shores of the U.S. and Canada, but it's only a matter of time. We're very happy to hear the reports from other cruisers that these establishments are flourishing in every corner of the world.
In or Near a Marina – As with coffee shops, it has become standard for marinas to broadcast wireless service out over their harbor. Most subcontract to ISPs which provide coverage for a wide swath of coastline. For example, we currently subscribe to BBXpress broadcasting from most major and minor ports throughout Oregon, Washington, and southern British Columbia. You can subscribe daily, monthly or annually. They even have a reciprocity agreement with a provider down in California so it's not likely we'll need to look elsewhere until we cross into Mexico.
Using a marina service, it is a very good idea to invest in a card and/or antennae to extend your range and increase the power of your laptop card. We recently purchased an Edimax card from Urwifiguy. Look, you can clearly buy more powerful sets, run line up the mast, and make the whole thing bullet proof. I'd argue, though, that tech changes so fast you are probably better off buying a cheap, adequate set today and upgrading to another, better version in 18 months. You'll still spend less than the “marine hardened” brands.
Out In the Middle of Nowhere – There are really expensive things you can do to get a high speed connection to the Internet while you're bobbing out in the middle of nowhere. These solutions are highly appropriate for the merchant marine, the military, and people with more money than god. They are not particularly useful or affordable for the rest of us. Moreover, spending the money isn't really necessary. Something like 95% of a cruiser's life is spent bobbing at an anchorage where a little elbow grease and a good war driving antennae will get you decent service from the comfort of your salon.
So for those odd passages and occasional times where you really must connect while out of reach of somebody else's wifi router, the solution is SSB, a Pactor modem, and a crappy piece of Windows software which hooks you up to AirMail. While the bandwidth is absolutely bad by modern standards (2200 kbps is a good day), the computer <=> modem <=> radio option works well enough to send and receive critical messages and to download weather data. We are just starting to use our rig, and the thing more or less makes me want to take out a hammer and go postal. The only method I've found to endure the limits of the WinLink software and glacial speed is to pull out a bottle of red wine and disappear into my cabin until the damn thing is done. We plan to use radio mail to send a daily position and status tweet to Twitter or Jaiku and otherwise pretend it doesn't exist.
There is also good news on the horizon for those who, like me, hate paying monopoly rates to SCS Pactor for their proprietary protocol. Open source alternatives to enable radio to Internet communication are beginning to spread. I am watching with great interest the growth of both Xastir and PKSMail. Someday, I may pitch this Pactor modem overboard and just get my Mac to cozy up directly to the SSB.
* * *
The bad old days of cruising families disappearing into the sunset ne'er to be heard from again are long gone. If you want to exchange tweets with friends and family, daily connectivity is within the reach of any moderately well heeled cruiser. And there is something to be said for sailing into harbor, grabbing a beer and a bowl of chips, and gorging on Diggnation, Wait Wait... and MacBreak Weekly all in a single sitting.
* Is there are more sad attempt at a merged logo than FedEx Kinko's anywhere in corporate America?
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Questions from the Class - Material Things
Keet asks, “What are the material things you'll miss? I am thinking I would miss holiday decorations... the Christmas tree... the really big TV.”
Hard to say. I think it will be interesting to compare, though, what I think we will miss to what I'm actually Jonesing for in, say... August of next year after we've cruised British Columbia. And probably we can check in again after a year or so in Mexico.
It's easier to start with what I won't miss -- the TV. I won't miss the big TV. Hard to miss something you've never had. We did have an enormous projection system for DVDs at one point. That was lovely. It was like watching a movie screen in your house. We haven't had cable, however, in nearly five years, and I can't say our quality of life is diminished in any respect.
I won't miss the car. My clothes already suck, so squishing them into the a closet the size of a toolbox, washing them in salt water weekly, and bleaching them on a line in the sun isn't going to cause me any great worry. I won't miss furniture, decorative knick knacks, or glassware. My children already destroyed what I valued pre-birth and a parsimonious nature kept me from replacing them. I don't use hair or skin products – no wise acre comments from the peanut gallery – nor do I use makeup, wear jewelry, or indulge in fine shoes.
Basically, I'm a perfect candidate for a penitentiary.
Books, my friends. Books are the material things I am going to miss.
A few years ago I tried to participate in a support group for The Artist's Way. This is basically a self-help program for people who are trying to connect with their inner artist. I was doing well for the first four weeks till we got to the Week Without Reading. The objective of the week was to go on a complete media diet for one week, foregoing reading utterly. No books, magazines, or newspapers. No browsing the web or diddling around with friends on Facebook. Without the cacophonous din created by the clamoring voices of the Information Age, we could free our minds and allow our creative souls to flower.
I made it 46 hours, 12 minutes, and 15 seconds. It was the worst two weeks of my entire life. I gave up when I found myself reading for the third time a theater ticket stub found stuck on the bottom of my shoe.
I will miss my broadband connection to the Internet.
I work, sleep, eat and play on the net. I play role playing games and read the news. I download roughly 20 hours of podcasts a week and pull down free books, magazine articles, and video content. Taking away my broadband connection is like cutting my hands off at the wrist and poking my eyes out with a stick while playing Barry Manilo at 11 in a bus that never gets to my stop. While up here in the States, I've invested in a Pacific Northwest-wide network of wifi hotspots which stretches from Olympia to Juneau. Once we head south, however, I feel as though I will be entering a form of computer geek hell.
Balsamic vinegar and pine nuts may prove another great loss.
I'm not a fantastic chief by any stretch of the imagination. I make up for it by the creative and liberal use of the four staples of mediocre cooking: olive oil, garlic, balsamic vinegar, and pine nuts. I can get my family to eat absolutely anything that combines those four ingredients in a long, caramelizing sauté. While olive oil and garlic are most likely readily available in just about any major port of call, pine nuts in affordable quantities are available in only one place: Costco.
Maybe I'm just going to miss Costco. Is that technically a material thing? Or is it all material things rolled into one convenient warehouse. In addition to pine nuts, I'm going to miss cheap panties (the dryer eats mine), cheap athletic socks (my girls steal mine), and Ling Ling Potstickers. Oh... and I'm going to miss the $1.50 Polish sausage and medium drink special at the kiosk in front of every Costco like a shrine to the Goddess of Thrift and Obesity.
Just call me a Material Girl!
Hard to say. I think it will be interesting to compare, though, what I think we will miss to what I'm actually Jonesing for in, say... August of next year after we've cruised British Columbia. And probably we can check in again after a year or so in Mexico.
It's easier to start with what I won't miss -- the TV. I won't miss the big TV. Hard to miss something you've never had. We did have an enormous projection system for DVDs at one point. That was lovely. It was like watching a movie screen in your house. We haven't had cable, however, in nearly five years, and I can't say our quality of life is diminished in any respect.
I won't miss the car. My clothes already suck, so squishing them into the a closet the size of a toolbox, washing them in salt water weekly, and bleaching them on a line in the sun isn't going to cause me any great worry. I won't miss furniture, decorative knick knacks, or glassware. My children already destroyed what I valued pre-birth and a parsimonious nature kept me from replacing them. I don't use hair or skin products – no wise acre comments from the peanut gallery – nor do I use makeup, wear jewelry, or indulge in fine shoes.
Basically, I'm a perfect candidate for a penitentiary.
Books, my friends. Books are the material things I am going to miss.
A few years ago I tried to participate in a support group for The Artist's Way. This is basically a self-help program for people who are trying to connect with their inner artist. I was doing well for the first four weeks till we got to the Week Without Reading. The objective of the week was to go on a complete media diet for one week, foregoing reading utterly. No books, magazines, or newspapers. No browsing the web or diddling around with friends on Facebook. Without the cacophonous din created by the clamoring voices of the Information Age, we could free our minds and allow our creative souls to flower.
I made it 46 hours, 12 minutes, and 15 seconds. It was the worst two weeks of my entire life. I gave up when I found myself reading for the third time a theater ticket stub found stuck on the bottom of my shoe.
I will miss my broadband connection to the Internet.
I work, sleep, eat and play on the net. I play role playing games and read the news. I download roughly 20 hours of podcasts a week and pull down free books, magazine articles, and video content. Taking away my broadband connection is like cutting my hands off at the wrist and poking my eyes out with a stick while playing Barry Manilo at 11 in a bus that never gets to my stop. While up here in the States, I've invested in a Pacific Northwest-wide network of wifi hotspots which stretches from Olympia to Juneau. Once we head south, however, I feel as though I will be entering a form of computer geek hell.
Balsamic vinegar and pine nuts may prove another great loss.
I'm not a fantastic chief by any stretch of the imagination. I make up for it by the creative and liberal use of the four staples of mediocre cooking: olive oil, garlic, balsamic vinegar, and pine nuts. I can get my family to eat absolutely anything that combines those four ingredients in a long, caramelizing sauté. While olive oil and garlic are most likely readily available in just about any major port of call, pine nuts in affordable quantities are available in only one place: Costco.
Maybe I'm just going to miss Costco. Is that technically a material thing? Or is it all material things rolled into one convenient warehouse. In addition to pine nuts, I'm going to miss cheap panties (the dryer eats mine), cheap athletic socks (my girls steal mine), and Ling Ling Potstickers. Oh... and I'm going to miss the $1.50 Polish sausage and medium drink special at the kiosk in front of every Costco like a shrine to the Goddess of Thrift and Obesity.
Just call me a Material Girl!
Monday, October 01, 2007
Questions from the Class - Interviewing Aeron
This series ends with my interview of Aeron. She wasn't a heck of a lot more responsive than Jaime. I think Keet is right... this would work better if I just interviewed them for an audio podcast.
* * *
Q: What do you think about our plans to cruise?
Really really really cool. I feel really happy.
Q: What was your favorite trip on the boat?
I gotta say it's probably going up into Canada. 'Cause I was with my grandparents and I'd never been up to Canada before.
Q: What was your worst time on the boat?
Being stuck in my cabin seasick. I was stuck there because it was too roly poly outside.
Q: What is your favorite thing to do as a boat kid?
Go everywhere. I'm always on my boat and my boat makes me happy.
Q: What is the thing you hate most as a boat kid?
Doing dishes.
Q: Are there any places you want to go? or see?
I'm looking forward to seeing dolphins, going down south, and swimming in warm water.
Q: What do you think about homeschooling?
It's cool cause I get to spend more time with my mom and my family. I like sailing.
Q: Anything else you'd like to add?
No. Not really. I itch and I can't think about this.*
* Note to boating families: Sea air is good for your health but bad for your skin. LOTS of sun screen and LOTS MORE moisturizing lotion are in order.
* * *
Q: What do you think about our plans to cruise?
Really really really cool. I feel really happy.
Q: What was your favorite trip on the boat?
I gotta say it's probably going up into Canada. 'Cause I was with my grandparents and I'd never been up to Canada before.
Q: What was your worst time on the boat?
Being stuck in my cabin seasick. I was stuck there because it was too roly poly outside.
Q: What is your favorite thing to do as a boat kid?
Go everywhere. I'm always on my boat and my boat makes me happy.
Q: What is the thing you hate most as a boat kid?
Doing dishes.
Q: Are there any places you want to go? or see?
I'm looking forward to seeing dolphins, going down south, and swimming in warm water.
Q: What do you think about homeschooling?
It's cool cause I get to spend more time with my mom and my family. I like sailing.
Q: Anything else you'd like to add?
No. Not really. I itch and I can't think about this.*
* Note to boating families: Sea air is good for your health but bad for your skin. LOTS of sun screen and LOTS MORE moisturizing lotion are in order.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Questions from the Class - Interviewing Jaime
I strongly recommend never interviewing a teenie bopper. We started off okay. Her answers were a bit canned, mind you, but there was a wee tiny itty bit of thought. Then she lost interest in the exercise. It would be slightly improved if you could hear the insouciant, hip Facebookian coolness with which she manages every word and gesture. However, I don't think we're going to learn much from this one.
Q: What do you think about our plans to cruise?
It's hecka fun! I think it would be fun to go new places and see new things and meet new people and stuff.
Q: What was your favorite trip on the boat?
I don't know. I think I like all of them. I don't think I have a favorite. I just like being out on the boat.
Q: What was your worst time on the boat?
When we were on really rolling seas and we couldn't go outside because it was too hard and we had to stay inside and we got sea sick.
Q: What is your favorite thing to do as a boat kid?
Sleep.
Q: What is the thing you hate most as a boat kid?
I don't hate anything about being a boat kid. I don't like high seas.
Q: When you look forward to the time when we sail away, what you do want from this trip?
I really want to see new animals and new sea life and stuff. New marine activity.
Q: Any places you want to go? or see?
I want to go everywhere and I want to see everything.
Q: What do you think about homeschooling?
Hmm.
Q: Anything else you'd like to add?
Ask me another time.
Q: What do you think about our plans to cruise?
It's hecka fun! I think it would be fun to go new places and see new things and meet new people and stuff.
Q: What was your favorite trip on the boat?
I don't know. I think I like all of them. I don't think I have a favorite. I just like being out on the boat.
Q: What was your worst time on the boat?
When we were on really rolling seas and we couldn't go outside because it was too hard and we had to stay inside and we got sea sick.
Q: What is your favorite thing to do as a boat kid?
Sleep.
Q: What is the thing you hate most as a boat kid?
I don't hate anything about being a boat kid. I don't like high seas.
Q: When you look forward to the time when we sail away, what you do want from this trip?
I really want to see new animals and new sea life and stuff. New marine activity.
Q: Any places you want to go? or see?
I want to go everywhere and I want to see everything.
Q: What do you think about homeschooling?
Hmm.
Q: Anything else you'd like to add?
Ask me another time.
Friday, September 21, 2007
Questions from the Class - Interview Mera
Question: Ask your kids what their hopes/expectations are for cruising life -- what are they excited about? What are they dreading?
I started this project with Mera. Now before you accuse me of putting words in my child's mouth, I want you to understand that Mera is a very literate, bookish nine year old with an incredible vocabulary and an imagination like nothing I've ever seen again. She is enrolled this fall with a teacher at the resource center to start middle and high school literature studies. These replies are direct quotes.
Q: What do you think about our plans to cruise?
I think it might be dangerous, but it's going to be very fun. It's a change; we're going to get to spend more time with each other. The new experiences will help us when we grow up.
Q: What was your favorite trip on the boat?
My favorite trip is when we went over to one of the islands and saw fireworks. And later that day, the Mushens -- our friends that live upstairs -- came over and we all sat on the tramp covered in blankets. I think the fireworks were better than the ones you see from Seattle.
Q: What was your worst time on the boat?
This might not really be the worst time but I can't think of anything worse. Well, we were anchored of Blake Island and we went for the longest walk I've ever been on. I couldn't see Jaime and we barely even talked. And we just walked and walked and walked. My feet ached.
Q: What is your favorite thing to do as a boat kid?
Hanging on to the metal bars that keep up the big clothy thing that shields us from the rain. Looking at the open sea and getting rocked back and forth and back and forth. It's real pleasant and fun.
Q: What is the thing you hate most as a boat kid?
Being shut up in my cabin when it's too windy outside.
Q: If you look forward to when we sail away, what
do you want from this trip?
I want great experiences, more time with my family, more time to learn about my dad and my mom, more time with the wildlife, more time to swim and more time to just do stuff.
Q: Are there any places you want to go? or see?
I'd love to go to this good hotel that one of my mom's friends described to me. It sounds like a really lovely place. I'd like to see a dolphin burst out of the water and see it's whole body before it goes below the water.
Q: What do you think about homeschooling?
I love it. It's great! It's really really fun.
Q: Anything else you'd like to add?
Boating life is hard but fun. And the hardness is what you pay for having fun.
I started this project with Mera. Now before you accuse me of putting words in my child's mouth, I want you to understand that Mera is a very literate, bookish nine year old with an incredible vocabulary and an imagination like nothing I've ever seen again. She is enrolled this fall with a teacher at the resource center to start middle and high school literature studies. These replies are direct quotes.
Q: What do you think about our plans to cruise?
I think it might be dangerous, but it's going to be very fun. It's a change; we're going to get to spend more time with each other. The new experiences will help us when we grow up.
Q: What was your favorite trip on the boat?
My favorite trip is when we went over to one of the islands and saw fireworks. And later that day, the Mushens -- our friends that live upstairs -- came over and we all sat on the tramp covered in blankets. I think the fireworks were better than the ones you see from Seattle.
Q: What was your worst time on the boat?
This might not really be the worst time but I can't think of anything worse. Well, we were anchored of Blake Island and we went for the longest walk I've ever been on. I couldn't see Jaime and we barely even talked. And we just walked and walked and walked. My feet ached.
Q: What is your favorite thing to do as a boat kid?
Hanging on to the metal bars that keep up the big clothy thing that shields us from the rain. Looking at the open sea and getting rocked back and forth and back and forth. It's real pleasant and fun.
Q: What is the thing you hate most as a boat kid?
Being shut up in my cabin when it's too windy outside.
Q: If you look forward to when we sail away, what
do you want from this trip?
I want great experiences, more time with my family, more time to learn about my dad and my mom, more time with the wildlife, more time to swim and more time to just do stuff.
Q: Are there any places you want to go? or see?
I'd love to go to this good hotel that one of my mom's friends described to me. It sounds like a really lovely place. I'd like to see a dolphin burst out of the water and see it's whole body before it goes below the water.
Q: What do you think about homeschooling?
I love it. It's great! It's really really fun.
Q: Anything else you'd like to add?
Boating life is hard but fun. And the hardness is what you pay for having fun.
Thursday, September 06, 2007
Questions from the Class - Eating Afloat
Question: If you're preparing a meal on the boat for your family, what do you make and how does prep on a boat differ from prep in a full kitchen? How is the meal served? Do you all sit at a table together?
The really important thing about boat cooking is that you work assiduously to make it less like camp cooking and more like house cooking. No one... and I do mean NO ONE... wants to spend several years camping. Camping is fun. It's like a city you want to visit, but you'd never live there. So long term living on a boat necessitates you figure out ways to make you feel like you're living in the Real World and not in some state park in Montana.
The cramped quarters, limited surface space, restricted equipment, and the propane stove and oven shove your head space into car camping mode. To exacerbate this situation, Dr C and my mom keep getting us gear from R.E.I and the Amish catalogs. This makes complete sense, mind you. When you live on a boat you need equipment that doesn't weigh much, doesn't take up much space, and best of all, doesn't require electricity. Boat life makes you really paranoid about using electricity. The Sierra Club sustainable greens could take lessons from cruising folks about how to use less electricity.
So here we are: No place to cut stuff. Two sinks, both of which are smaller than our smallest pot. A utensil drawer roughly the size of a Payless shoebox for toddlers. Two propane burners that require matches to start, a refrigerator the size of a breadbox, and all our food supplies stored under the girls’ butts in the salon table seats. The way prep differs is that you learn how to bring your elbows close to your body so you don't knock someone out, and you cook one item at a time. We do a lot of “one-pot” and grilled meals. The pressure cooker is an absolute lifesaver.
Limited storage space has, however, forced a very positive change in our diet. I now shop roughly every other day and purchase a lot more fresh, local produce. As part of our “people in other countries eat” project, we seek out the seasonal, local, organic, and unfamiliar, and we look increasingly to whole foods since our closest grocery store is very much into the funky, Berkeley-style, sticks-and-twigs, granola-crowd customer base.
Dr C has also done several customizations to make our galley much more Real World, with a whole array of To-Do enhancements in the queue to keep him busy on quiet anchorages in the future. The most important and useful addition was a large board which covers our companionway and literally quadruples the functional counter space. He also created an extension to the sink area which gives us a place to put dishes as we wash them. Another nifty trick was the hangers behind the stove for all those pesky cooking utensils that won't fit in a drawer that's only 12” deep. On the agenda will be more shelves, spice and wine racks, a drawer under the stove for pots, and hanging baskets for produce. In other words, more holes in the boat.
Serving is another adaptation. The table is easily big enough for all five of us to sit comfortably. In fact, when we have my in-laws on board, all seven of us can gather round. The problem is that it's only big enough to hold plates. So we always serve buffet style... except the cook does all the serving from the buffet while folks shout out what they want. Remember that the table is round, so basically all folks except the cook are trapped in their seats for the duration of the meal.
Then we have cleanup. After nearly two years we've finally figured out how to do the dishes. The restrictions here are space (well that was obvious) and water (we don't have very much despite the fact that we are floating in it) AND soap (we are reluctant to kill the fish). The solution is to put two inches of hot water in each of the mini-sink basins. We put microscopic amounts of soap on the sponge and wash the dish. Then we rinse it in the left “soapy” sink then in the right “fresh” basinlette. Then it gets dried by an army of minions using those ubiquitous blue cloths.
Still, I often feel like we're camping, particularly when we pull out the stove-top waffle iron, the hand crank blender, or the classic Don Quixote solution to BBQing on the cheap off the back transom using our $15 special. On the other hand, we have proven that you can get used to almost anything. And some aspects of boat cooking actually improve our lives. Trading in our $500 Gaggia espresso machine for a small, stove-top coffee maker and milk foamer upgraded our coffee experience by orders of magnitude. I swear I will never go back to the Real World for lattes.
The really important thing about boat cooking is that you work assiduously to make it less like camp cooking and more like house cooking. No one... and I do mean NO ONE... wants to spend several years camping. Camping is fun. It's like a city you want to visit, but you'd never live there. So long term living on a boat necessitates you figure out ways to make you feel like you're living in the Real World and not in some state park in Montana.
The cramped quarters, limited surface space, restricted equipment, and the propane stove and oven shove your head space into car camping mode. To exacerbate this situation, Dr C and my mom keep getting us gear from R.E.I and the Amish catalogs. This makes complete sense, mind you. When you live on a boat you need equipment that doesn't weigh much, doesn't take up much space, and best of all, doesn't require electricity. Boat life makes you really paranoid about using electricity. The Sierra Club sustainable greens could take lessons from cruising folks about how to use less electricity.
So here we are: No place to cut stuff. Two sinks, both of which are smaller than our smallest pot. A utensil drawer roughly the size of a Payless shoebox for toddlers. Two propane burners that require matches to start, a refrigerator the size of a breadbox, and all our food supplies stored under the girls’ butts in the salon table seats. The way prep differs is that you learn how to bring your elbows close to your body so you don't knock someone out, and you cook one item at a time. We do a lot of “one-pot” and grilled meals. The pressure cooker is an absolute lifesaver.
Limited storage space has, however, forced a very positive change in our diet. I now shop roughly every other day and purchase a lot more fresh, local produce. As part of our “people in other countries eat” project, we seek out the seasonal, local, organic, and unfamiliar, and we look increasingly to whole foods since our closest grocery store is very much into the funky, Berkeley-style, sticks-and-twigs, granola-crowd customer base.
Dr C has also done several customizations to make our galley much more Real World, with a whole array of To-Do enhancements in the queue to keep him busy on quiet anchorages in the future. The most important and useful addition was a large board which covers our companionway and literally quadruples the functional counter space. He also created an extension to the sink area which gives us a place to put dishes as we wash them. Another nifty trick was the hangers behind the stove for all those pesky cooking utensils that won't fit in a drawer that's only 12” deep. On the agenda will be more shelves, spice and wine racks, a drawer under the stove for pots, and hanging baskets for produce. In other words, more holes in the boat.
Serving is another adaptation. The table is easily big enough for all five of us to sit comfortably. In fact, when we have my in-laws on board, all seven of us can gather round. The problem is that it's only big enough to hold plates. So we always serve buffet style... except the cook does all the serving from the buffet while folks shout out what they want. Remember that the table is round, so basically all folks except the cook are trapped in their seats for the duration of the meal.
Then we have cleanup. After nearly two years we've finally figured out how to do the dishes. The restrictions here are space (well that was obvious) and water (we don't have very much despite the fact that we are floating in it) AND soap (we are reluctant to kill the fish). The solution is to put two inches of hot water in each of the mini-sink basins. We put microscopic amounts of soap on the sponge and wash the dish. Then we rinse it in the left “soapy” sink then in the right “fresh” basinlette. Then it gets dried by an army of minions using those ubiquitous blue cloths.
Still, I often feel like we're camping, particularly when we pull out the stove-top waffle iron, the hand crank blender, or the classic Don Quixote solution to BBQing on the cheap off the back transom using our $15 special. On the other hand, we have proven that you can get used to almost anything. And some aspects of boat cooking actually improve our lives. Trading in our $500 Gaggia espresso machine for a small, stove-top coffee maker and milk foamer upgraded our coffee experience by orders of magnitude. I swear I will never go back to the Real World for lattes.
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
Questions from the Class - Worst Cruise
Question: What was your worst cruise?
Oh, this one is easy. The one where the port head exploded, and I spent three hours standing in two inches of shit working to get it fixed. I don't think I have ever been so unhappy in my entire life.
Oh, this one is easy. The one where the port head exploded, and I spent three hours standing in two inches of shit working to get it fixed. I don't think I have ever been so unhappy in my entire life.
Monday, August 27, 2007
Questions from the Class - Best Cruise
To help me break through a stress induced case of writer's block, my good friend and illustrator Keet suggested that I just start answering her questions. She pointed out that while acerbic and amusing, my life couldn't be nearly as horrid as I was making it sound.
Or maybe it could.
In any case, we start with Keet's questions about s/v Don Quixote, Toast, and crew. If any of you, my fine readers, have unanswered questions, please send them to me so I can tackle them over the coming weeks.
Question: What was your best cruise so far? Where'd you go? What made this cruise the best? The destination or the way the cruise itself went?
Best is such a funny word. I have to start with a challenge to anyone to define the best experience of their lives. What makes up “best” on a cruise? The least number of repairs? The most fun had by all? Great wind? Good weather? Memorability?
For me, the best sail of my life was after the weekend of the 4th this year. I was single-handling the boat from Dockton State Park on Vashon Island to Elliott Bay Marina. This is a one day trip, mind you, not some odyssey, but I was completely sans Dr C. I motor sailed up Colvos on a 13-knot wind, taking advantage of the winds by tacking back and forth periodically. As we rounded the north end of Vashon, the wind kicked up to 18 and I turned off the motor, put her into her most favored angle to the wind, and did my damndest to top out our knot meter. At one point, I had her flying along the waves at 8.53 with 9.7 over ground. For our condomaran, that's good speed. We sailed all the way home and just kissed the dock when I slid her into her slip. It was a thing of sailing beauty and marked a turning point in my confidence in myself as a sailor.
But there are so many other bests. There was the cruise with Dr C's parents to the Gulf Islands last month during which my husband smiled for the first time in so long it's hard to remember. He is so very unhappy here in the Real World, still tied to a job that requires he spend six hours a day in a dark room. It makes him ill. Literally. After days rolling around on the deck of our boat, blowing holes in it and installing things, Dr C finally woke up to life again and smiled at us just because the weather was fine, the girls were healthy, and he was happy.
There was the time Jaime navigated us through a tricky anchorage, and she decided she was a sailor. And then there was the great evening when the girls set up a tent on the tramp and camped out all night. There was the week I actually managed to provision the boat with just the right amount of food, the day Jaime and I pumped out the heads without getting covered in shit, and the many days we spent with s/v Reverie buddy boating through the South Puget Sound.
The best trips have this in common:
Or maybe it could.
In any case, we start with Keet's questions about s/v Don Quixote, Toast, and crew. If any of you, my fine readers, have unanswered questions, please send them to me so I can tackle them over the coming weeks.
Question: What was your best cruise so far? Where'd you go? What made this cruise the best? The destination or the way the cruise itself went?
Best is such a funny word. I have to start with a challenge to anyone to define the best experience of their lives. What makes up “best” on a cruise? The least number of repairs? The most fun had by all? Great wind? Good weather? Memorability?
For me, the best sail of my life was after the weekend of the 4th this year. I was single-handling the boat from Dockton State Park on Vashon Island to Elliott Bay Marina. This is a one day trip, mind you, not some odyssey, but I was completely sans Dr C. I motor sailed up Colvos on a 13-knot wind, taking advantage of the winds by tacking back and forth periodically. As we rounded the north end of Vashon, the wind kicked up to 18 and I turned off the motor, put her into her most favored angle to the wind, and did my damndest to top out our knot meter. At one point, I had her flying along the waves at 8.53 with 9.7 over ground. For our condomaran, that's good speed. We sailed all the way home and just kissed the dock when I slid her into her slip. It was a thing of sailing beauty and marked a turning point in my confidence in myself as a sailor.
But there are so many other bests. There was the cruise with Dr C's parents to the Gulf Islands last month during which my husband smiled for the first time in so long it's hard to remember. He is so very unhappy here in the Real World, still tied to a job that requires he spend six hours a day in a dark room. It makes him ill. Literally. After days rolling around on the deck of our boat, blowing holes in it and installing things, Dr C finally woke up to life again and smiled at us just because the weather was fine, the girls were healthy, and he was happy.
There was the time Jaime navigated us through a tricky anchorage, and she decided she was a sailor. And then there was the great evening when the girls set up a tent on the tramp and camped out all night. There was the week I actually managed to provision the boat with just the right amount of food, the day Jaime and I pumped out the heads without getting covered in shit, and the many days we spent with s/v Reverie buddy boating through the South Puget Sound.
The best trips have this in common:
- We hook up one or more times with a buddy boat, preferably one with children but even that isn't a requirement.
- We stock the boat with lots of hardware for Dr C to mess up, books for Mera to read, and power for my laptop.
- We do not have a set destination but rather just go where the wind blows us.
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