Thursday, May 13, 2010
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Friday, June 19, 2009
Snake in the Nest
I heard two mockingbirds making alot of noise in a bush, so I peeked in to see what was going on. My face met this guy in the nest. I like birds better than snakes, so he was really in the wrong place at the wrong time. With the wrong thing in his belly. I put the egg back in the nest.
whats that buldge there snakey boy?
whats that buldge there snakey boy?
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Home
I flew back to the U.S. on October 2nd, crossing the Atlantic in 7 hours. It took me 58 days on the sailboat, although when things go well its supposed to be only 30-40 days at the most.
Its great being home and being around my family, but I miss the journey. Its a great thing to have a goal ahead to work towards, I feel a little aimless now that its all finished.
I made it home in time for Molly the milk cow to have her calf. She had it this afternoon. I think were going to call her Polly. Molly and Polly, haha.She tried really hard to poop all over me while I was carrying her up to the barn, but somehow it all missed my arm and shoulder. It reminded me of the time we bought a dairy bull, and brought him home in the back of the station wagon. I sat in the very back seat with him (remember the seats that faced backwards?) and he pooped everywhere and jumped around, covering us both in calf poop. I think my dad almost drove into the ditch he was laughing so hard.
I shaved the beard, finally. My skin was so dry underneath that I had to get rid of the hair. It feels SO good to feel a breeze on your face again. I think Polly liked it; she was rubbing her nose on my face and snotting on me while I carried her. Its great to be loved.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Journal Thursday 7-3-08 5:59pm
Seventh day- decent winds, good food, way too much Jimmy Buffet. Saw a sea turtle that must have been 4 feet across. I dumped water on my head with the water bucket; I really wish that I had done that sooner. The coolness was incredible, it felt so good to escape the heat for a bit.
Friday 7-4-08 4:20pm
The 4th of July! Im missing my big family and the cookouts today. I wish I was in Fairhope, listening to the pops play by the bluff. I cooked lunch today- hamburgers on the grill, homemade (or is it boatmade) bread for a bun toasted with butter. I craved lettuce and tomato! And Cheese! Oh baby! Cheese!
In a few minutes I'll start cooking supper. Im thinking pasta with diced tomatoes (from a can...argh) and olive oil. My chocolate has been raided many times since last night. David said that he hate all his chocolate at once, and didnt regret it at all. That sounded like a great idea, because the one square a day was really pissing me off. Just enough to make you want more really bad; it wasnt satisfying at all. Its definitely not going to make it anywhere close to the Azores. The winds died to nothing during my watch, so we socked the spinnaker and went for a swim. The water wasnt nearly as cold as it felt from the bucket, bt it was wonderfully relaxing to just float around for a few hours. What wasnt relaxing were all the flashbacks that I kept having to all the shark documentaries that I watched as a kid. Dr. Eugene Clark and the part where they lower the speaker into the sea and it transmits sounds of thrashing about. The sharks drastically increase, attracted to the sound. I would dive in and picture a seven gilled toothy thing jerking his head around in my direction.
So this is the eighth day. Not much progress at all today. But then Im not so anxious, and am somewhat at peace with being confined to this boat for another two weeks. Ive been dreaming of going to the hunting camp and having a cookout. A Brian style cookout, where we eat 50 chicken quarters and listen to old country music. Where theres no such thing as a hurry.
Being around friends and family is the best thing in life. The most beautiful and wonderful things dont carry the same splendour if you have no one to share them with. This trip is a building of my character, hopefully. I long to get on the road of productivity, especially for my Creator. I long more intensely than I long for winter and cool mountains. Rocky rivers running through tall Poplars and evergreens. Campsites away from all the city noise and pollution, and waking up to a pristine sunrise shared with the people I love. No NASCAR, no Jimmy Buffet. But without those two, how would Patience ever come about? And supposedly, there is something to appreciate in everything that someone else likes. That may be a stretch of what Sheldon meant in ''A Severe Mercy'', but it makes the NASCAR and Buffet more bearable. I sure like the idea of a cheeseburger in paradise!
6:43pm- Im stuffed from what I cooked. Pasta noodles, canned tomatoes with garlic and onions, cubed chicken breast and olive oil. It was ok..my spaghetti is usually lots better.
Im about to take a nap before my 9p-12am watch. Sleep is as erratic as I think it could be, the only consistency being our 6 hours off between shifts. But that never means 6 hours of sleep. Usually more 2 or 3, but tonight Ive got the 9p-12am and a 6 hour break until 6am, so I'll actually get almost 5 hours! If I can fall asleep, ha. Its really hot during the day, and the cabin doesnt cool off until after midnight, usually. Im probably going to shave my head soon, to help with the heat as much as for something to do. I havent been able to read as much as I was planning to. I just finished ''A Severe Mercy'' before Bermuda, and now Im a few chapters into ''Whats So Great About Christianity''. Andy gave it to me, and Ive really been enjoying so far, but I find it hard to focus my mind as intensely as I would like in order to process everything as a whole. I have trouble with only picking up the major points and missing out on the facts and figures that he gives- well, not missing out, just not retaining the info like I want to.
The diesel just clanked to life. No wind enough to fill the spinnaker- the only sail that weve had up for the past two days- so now we motor along at 2-3knots. The rocking of the boat at least triples when we are under motor power, because the sails help to control the movement of the boat. Its a drastic difference between the fuming clank clatter of the diesel throwing you from side to side, and the clean smooth silence of the sails. I say smooth completely in a relative sense, for compared to land Im on a perpetual pogo stick that is stuck on a roller coaster, being slapped around by a tornado.
Im fully into my previously rationed chocolate, and couldnt be happier with that. Im always putting silly restrictions on myself- one square of chocolate per day, dont turn on your truck's a/c for 5 miles, eat your orange one wedge every 15 minutes...like that but I forget the others. I do it often, and its very frustrating. Most of the self imposed restrictions are self denial in some way. In fact, most all that I can think of are that. Why do I do this? Most every time whatever I am restricting myself from is some sort of enjoyment or comfort, but is never immoral and usually isnt unhealthy (not counting my current chocolate binge) and I find that throwing off these odd restrictions leads to a more peaceful state of mind. Otherwise Im constantly arguing with myself about meeting some standard that doesnt matter. How odd the mind! Im looking forward to the day that my conscious is tied to my soul rather then my body. Im sure a better understanding of all this, and a de-cluttered train of thought will come as a given.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Journal- Wed. 7-2-08
We just reached 38 degrees of latitude and took an almost 90 degree turn to starboard; were heading straight to the Azores- due East.
Weve got 1380 miles left out of 2000. So if we can keep up the average of 100 miles per day or better, we could be in Horta in two weeks or less! This is awesome news when you keep telling yourself 30 days. I may have to stop that, an extra 10 days is really depressing. Today is madly hot. The wood of the deck is right at too hot to walk on barefoot. Not much wind- weve got the spinnaker up and are making 3-4 knots. Our Aires windvane isnt working, were going downwind and there isnt enough of a breeze to give it any strength. Our 12volt auto tiller has a broken shaft- it came unscrewed and once it let the tiller free, the tiller handle smashed it against the side of the boat; breaking its shaft. So now we steer by hand. The spinnaker flys and swoops all over, jerking the boat with it, and you have to fight that with the tiller to keep the spinnaker from folding. As a result the boat is swerving to and fro between a section of 20-30degrees on the compass. It cant be good at all for our net progress.
I ate a piece of chocolate in celebration of reaching the 38degree mark. It wasnt tomorrow's piece, but Ive been saving my daily square until evening or early morning, depending on when my watch is. Not that Kenny is back in Vegas, its only David, Mike and me, and weve decided on 3 hour watches. Today Ive got 6-9am, 3-6pm, 12-3am, 9-12am... and so on for the next two weeks. It can be really confusing when you wake up at 3am to the spinnaker popping like a rifle and you cant remember when you were supposed to be on watch, if you set your alarm, or when your last watch finished. So a long thought process begins for an exhausted, sleepy brain, and by the time that you figure out that it is 3AM, that your watch ended at 12AM, and therefore you have 3 more wonderful hours of sleep (2 1/2 really) until 5:30 or so, at that point youre wide awake. And then the progress of falling asleep starts all over again, of tuning out the slaps, pops, and jerks of the spinnaker, the rolls and nauseous throws of the waves, the sweaty greasy, slimy never ending heat, the too short bunk. And then its 5:30, time to go on watch!
The mornings are usually blessedly cool, but thats all forgotten by the afternoon when youre roasting. I like the 9pm-12am and the 3am-6am the best, although the 3-6am is usually the sleepiest. Theyre the coolest of the day.
Ive tried fishing with the closest thing I could find to jap feathers, but I cant get a bite. I think we need more line out to allow the line to sink further- right now it stays at the surface to 2' below.
So far, Im glad that Ive taken the sail. I think that it will do so much for my character- paitience is the most obvious work, along with slowing down my anxiety and taking time to spend with people and develop deep relationships. And its very much worth it. But Will, if you read this in the future, never do this again! Im writing this with a nauseous dizzy head on a table under swaying patches of intensely bright and hot sunlight, being tossed around the cabin. Im listening to the watermaker churn and the diesel engine chug- the batteries were low. Im smelling diesel fumes and sweat. Its hot in the cabin and there isnt any breeze. Im a sweaty slimy ball of stink, with only a ripped pair of plaid shorts on, a two week beard, and a greasy mop of hot hair on my skull. Ive got 20 minutes until the next monotonous watch, where I'll sit and sweat and stare at the floppy spinnaker and the swaying compass. When my watch is finished, I'll start all this over again.
Why do my friends admire me for this? How could they be jealous? Ignorance and its bliss!!
Ive got two more weeks of this, and nowhere to run! Future Will! Remember- a fool is one who does the same thing twice, expecting different results. If you dont get the results you expect from this the first time, dont do it again you fool! Its miserable and you cant escape! No matter what. No escape.
Weve got 1380 miles left out of 2000. So if we can keep up the average of 100 miles per day or better, we could be in Horta in two weeks or less! This is awesome news when you keep telling yourself 30 days. I may have to stop that, an extra 10 days is really depressing. Today is madly hot. The wood of the deck is right at too hot to walk on barefoot. Not much wind- weve got the spinnaker up and are making 3-4 knots. Our Aires windvane isnt working, were going downwind and there isnt enough of a breeze to give it any strength. Our 12volt auto tiller has a broken shaft- it came unscrewed and once it let the tiller free, the tiller handle smashed it against the side of the boat; breaking its shaft. So now we steer by hand. The spinnaker flys and swoops all over, jerking the boat with it, and you have to fight that with the tiller to keep the spinnaker from folding. As a result the boat is swerving to and fro between a section of 20-30degrees on the compass. It cant be good at all for our net progress.
I ate a piece of chocolate in celebration of reaching the 38degree mark. It wasnt tomorrow's piece, but Ive been saving my daily square until evening or early morning, depending on when my watch is. Not that Kenny is back in Vegas, its only David, Mike and me, and weve decided on 3 hour watches. Today Ive got 6-9am, 3-6pm, 12-3am, 9-12am... and so on for the next two weeks. It can be really confusing when you wake up at 3am to the spinnaker popping like a rifle and you cant remember when you were supposed to be on watch, if you set your alarm, or when your last watch finished. So a long thought process begins for an exhausted, sleepy brain, and by the time that you figure out that it is 3AM, that your watch ended at 12AM, and therefore you have 3 more wonderful hours of sleep (2 1/2 really) until 5:30 or so, at that point youre wide awake. And then the progress of falling asleep starts all over again, of tuning out the slaps, pops, and jerks of the spinnaker, the rolls and nauseous throws of the waves, the sweaty greasy, slimy never ending heat, the too short bunk. And then its 5:30, time to go on watch!
The mornings are usually blessedly cool, but thats all forgotten by the afternoon when youre roasting. I like the 9pm-12am and the 3am-6am the best, although the 3-6am is usually the sleepiest. Theyre the coolest of the day.
Ive tried fishing with the closest thing I could find to jap feathers, but I cant get a bite. I think we need more line out to allow the line to sink further- right now it stays at the surface to 2' below.
So far, Im glad that Ive taken the sail. I think that it will do so much for my character- paitience is the most obvious work, along with slowing down my anxiety and taking time to spend with people and develop deep relationships. And its very much worth it. But Will, if you read this in the future, never do this again! Im writing this with a nauseous dizzy head on a table under swaying patches of intensely bright and hot sunlight, being tossed around the cabin. Im listening to the watermaker churn and the diesel engine chug- the batteries were low. Im smelling diesel fumes and sweat. Its hot in the cabin and there isnt any breeze. Im a sweaty slimy ball of stink, with only a ripped pair of plaid shorts on, a two week beard, and a greasy mop of hot hair on my skull. Ive got 20 minutes until the next monotonous watch, where I'll sit and sweat and stare at the floppy spinnaker and the swaying compass. When my watch is finished, I'll start all this over again.
Why do my friends admire me for this? How could they be jealous? Ignorance and its bliss!!
Ive got two more weeks of this, and nowhere to run! Future Will! Remember- a fool is one who does the same thing twice, expecting different results. If you dont get the results you expect from this the first time, dont do it again you fool! Its miserable and you cant escape! No matter what. No escape.
Tuesday, September 9, 2008
Journal- Leaving Bermuda
Wed. 6-25-08 9:58PM St. Georges Harbor
Sailing for the Azores tomorrow morning. Im surprised to say that Im actually looking forward to it. Ive explored as much as possible of whats within my reach here, and without renting a scooter to expand my boundaries, Ive seen enough to satisfy. Although I still havent been snorkeling...Today I had a whole baked chicken for lunch with a quart of Dunkleys chocolate milk. I just climbed the mast to run a halyard for the spinnaker, and a ground wire for the mast tri-color. Ive been wanting to climb it, and the mast felt taller than the 40ft it is.
Mike and I also stopped by Ocean Sails to pick up a section of stainless railing to mount the dingy motor with. I love the building and the owners seem great. I talked to Suzanne. Didnt mention it to her, but I would love to work there. But theres a journey to finish, and a life to get back to in Alabama.
Thursday 6-26-08 9:26PM
St. Georges lights are fading to my back; were headed ENE for the Azores, 2000 miles away. For my last meal from land I bought a pack of lamb kabobs. My first time on the boat's grill, and I charred them to a crisp. Ive got one chocolate bar with 32 squares to last me the whole trip. One square every day. Its going to be hard not to eat it all at once, but Im going to try and use it to gauge our time left on this floating coffin. Things arent really that bad when the motor isnt running, but its running now; loud and shaking the whole boat. Its hot, and I already feel crappy. 30 days of this. Come to me cool breeze! Bermuda Harbor radio just cracked in, said red flares were spotted south east of the island. Exciting!
Friday 6-27-08 12:18pm
First day Azores bound. Im already thinking about my dark chocolate bar, but Im going to wait until tonight and have it nightly, piece by piece as a sort of celebration of making it through another day. Ive been reading ''Atlantic High'' by William F. Buckley, as he seems to insist at using his middle initial in everything. I hate William F. Buckley. If he were here I would knock a few of his teeth out with the winch handle. He sails across the Atlantic with six friends, four crew, and a chef on the 71ft ''Sealestial'', a luxo-cruiser where they all have their own bunk in shared staterooms. They also have a freezer full of steaks and lobster, cabinets full of crispy chips and chocolate, and are always toasting each other with a glass from their huge wine collection in every photo. I suppose they were trying to be funny. I hate you, Buckley. Oh yes, day one of thirty. Hooray. The day is halfway done, or, the trip is 1/60th complete.
Sat. 6-28-08 3:02PM
Second day Azores bound. I forgot to eat my chocolate chunk last night, and I just ate it a few minutes ago. It was wonderful. I also had a bit of my milk this morning, it seemed so rich it was like half and half. I instantly feel dizzy and nauseous upon coming into the cabin. But I cant stay up on deck all the time- the cockpit is really the only halfway dry place, and only with room for two to sit. So my routine is- on watch in the cockpit, come down to the cabin and sleep a sweaty, nauseous sleep, wake up and find something unappetizing to eat, eat it above to be able to almost slightly enjoy it, go on watch...and start over. Thats about it. Two days of thirty. Nice progress- 6knots in the right direction. Stop complaining you sissy.
Sun. 6-29-08 2:18PM
Third Day. I had to check my journal to see how many days it had been (yes, sadly you can really forget thats it's been three days at sea.) - I was hoping that I was behind on my chocolate, needing to eat a piece to catch up. Sadly, I was right on schedule. Had my first poop of the Azores leg today, it was the highlight of my day. No exaggeration, it took 21 minutes of toilet pumping to clear the bowl. 21 minutes! Think about how much pumping in a rocking and rolling boat that is! I would love to post that on the blog...I think I will. No sense in hiding the truth about sailing! Im in a good mental state today. I think that its tied in closely to plenty of rest (HA. Is that ever a relative term!) and staying hydrated to keep the headaches down.
Tuesday 7-1-08 6:47AM
I had the 6-9PM and 3-6AM watches. Both were beautiful. I listed to Colin Hay, Allison Krauss, and Kanye West, ha. Fifth, fith, what is it? I cant spell. All this rocking and rolling is taking a toll on my brain!
Wednesday 7-2-08 9:24AM
''...count it all joy when you encounter suffering for the sake of our Lord Jesus Christ.'' -I havent had much in the way of suffering on this trip, and certainly not any suffering on behalf of my Saviour. But I can say that I have been more uncomfortable than ever before, and with absolutely no chance at all of escaping my discomfort until we reach our destination. I am already certain that once we reach the Azores, I will never have loved sturdy land and freedom so intensely, or have appreciated things so deeply. I dont want to loose this forthcoming of an ever deeper appreciation of life. So now, even though I am ''suffering'' in the lightest sense possible, I can easily consider these times joy, because I know what will be produced in me in the future as a direct result- joy! A truer happiness, a more fulfilled life. If the suffering were for my Lord, I can only imagine how much more of all these things (joy, fulfillment) and how much more satisfying a result, as the results would be towards not only my character now, but towards my eternal soul.
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Bermuda Journal
Sunday 6-22-08 10:32PM
''The world we find ourselves in! We all have this nostalgia for a world that never existed.''- says the man down the dinghy dock from me in St. Georges, Bermuda. Instantly C.S. Lewis came to mind and I wish I had a chance to talk to Mr. Dinghy before he buzzed off into the night harbor with his friends. I just finished A Severe Mercy on the sail, and my mind was still full of nostalgia and longings beyond this world.Tuesday 6-24-08 10:47AM
I had my first real shower today since we left Charleston. It was at Captain Smoke's marina in the little blue building. The shower was as hot at it would go and amazing. Im not at all excited about the 30 days to the Azores. Ive been spending as much time as possible on land here in St. Georges. On sunday the 22nd I finally had a chance to spend some time on shore alone. Its hard to do when youre anchored in the harbor and only have one dinghy. It was already 4pm and I was running antenna wires for the GPS and HF radio. I finished my job with the wiring, and tired to see what I could do next. Space was really limited on the boat, and it was hard to have more than one or two people working at the same time. The v-berth is full of at least 7 different head sails and other things, and we have to rearrange the cabin to sleep, and re arrange once we get up to get to tools and work areas. Usually we also rearrange to work and eat. So three people working on projects at the same time can be more of a hassle than productive. It was 5pm before I got to the dock, but I made the most of it and started walking to Ferry Reach Point, where there is a beautiful park. The undeveloped land was wonderful, everywhere I walked smelled deeply of flowers, which were brushing against me on both sides of the path, treetops swaying slowly in the warm breeze. The beaches were white sand with coral giving it hints of pink. Smooth clear blue green water that seemed extra salty rolled softly into Whale Bone Bay. I was very lonely when I swam at sunset alone.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Old journal entries
Ive posted a journal entry on the Azores to Ireland leg, but instead of starting there I'll go back to the beginning of the sail, to the start in Charleston.
It's raining heavily today in West Cork, Ireland, so I'll post a few entries.
Charleston Harbor Wed. June 11 2008
We were supposed to leave yesterday morning, then evening, then late night, then early this morning, then noon, and now its 12:48pm and Im still alone on the boat, waiting. There is so much to do to prepare for an Atlantic crossing.
Every time I move I whack my hot air balloon sized head on something. Boom gallows here (that was a good one), garlic and onions hanging from the ceiling there, heater, cabinet, hatch, my skull has marked them all. I know Im still alive by my constant headache.
Last night it was so hot I slept out on the deck. I was out cold until what must have been two A.M. I heard something that woke me to a face staring down at me! I had a seizure and fell into the cockpit onto my new headphones, snapping them. It was only David in the dinghy; he forgot the tools he needed to build the bowsprit in his hotel room.
Atlantic Ocean 6.12.08 Thur. 9:14pm
Im on a 32' Sailboat in the Atlantic. We left the harbor with quite a few unfinished projects. The bowsprit was rotten and cracked, and David took it off to make a pattern for the new one. The new one is laying on the top deck because he didnt have access to a drill press to drill the holes for the all-thread. So we have no bowsprit and that makes changing sails a real balancing act. Another side effect is that the bowsprit handrail has nothing to bolt into, making all lifelines ahead of the cabin loose and almost useless. Our watermaker isnt wired up, and that means it hasnt been tested, and I dont think we have enough water to make it to Bermuda. Our new batteries are sitting in the floor of the cabin, and our main inverter isnt working. Our compass lights arent wired up so we use a flashlight at night, our safety rail around the cockpit isnt finished, and we have no mast or stern lights, although we do have red and green on the side stays. Our GPS wiring isnt finished, so were using a handheld. Our radar isnt wired. Our sansom posts are cracked, the new ones are sitting on the deck. The inflatable dinghy wouldnt fit on the deck inflated, so its rolled up on deck. The pump is somewhere in the cabin, and the motor is on the stern deck, in our way because the motor mount attaches to the unfinished saftey rail for the cockpit. We dont have a life raft. The HF radio isnt installed, and our EPERBS arent registered. The spreaders have no spreader boots and can easily rip the headsail if it comes in contact with the spreader, in fact the sail may have just been ripped a bit on the starboard spreader. I would probably get off if I could.
The wind just changed from due west to due east and weve been tacking between a heading of 30 to 160 degrees. Average speed of 4.3knots.
Saturday 6-14-08
Earlier fears have subsided, but I will still be mighty happy to see Bermuda on the horizon. Were stuck on a glassy smooth surface with no wind; the diesel has been clanking us along for hours. I just took a ''shower'' in the head sink.
Sunday 6-15-08
Were almost halfway to Bermuda! Thats not so much a joyous exclamation as it is one of perplexity. This was supposed to be a 5-7 day lef. I know why its taken so long- the wind has been in the totally wrong direction. Weve covered more distance in the past 24 hours than in the whole of the first 3 days..or 2 or however long its been. It hurts my head to think of how much longer it is to Ireland. One day at a time has never been more important.
So far its been much smoother than I was expecting. Smoother and slower! Right now I'll say crossing the Atlantic is overrated, but Im sure that will have changed by the end, ha.
We dodged a waterspout today. It was my watch from 1-3pm and I saw it in a storm group probably 10 miles or less off to our starboard. We were using the Genoa, and travelling with the wind at 90degrees to the sweet tune of 5knots. I was sorry to take it up to 30degrees to make sure we stayed well clear of the spout. You can see from the last line that Im not yet able to refer to the sailboat as ''her''. But after 40 days out here I'll probably be calling anything ''her'' that will let me.
Tuesday 6-17-08 10:41AM
So I eat my words about it being smooth. Early Monday morning on my watch from 12-3am a few rain drops hit my head. It was almost 1AM. I turned around and saw a few clouds, but nothing spectacular, and poked my head into the cabin to tell David, who was still up working on getting our HF modem working. His watch had just ended at 12AM. We were cruising at a steady 6knots, and just as the first rain drops hit we gained to 8knots quickly. (8knots is a big deal in a boat with a hull speed of 7knots. That means when you do anything over 7 you start to push the water like a bulldozer instead of slicing through it.) ''Hey man were at 8knots and getting a bit of rain, wanna take down some sails?'' I asked David. He quickly put the laptop up and climbed up to the cockpit with me. Within the next 2 minutes it felt like the wind doubled. David was already straining at the tiller, and we had the Genoa and full main up. (The Genoa was our second biggest headsail.) Our slow sail turned into a train ride barreling through heavy seas. Water was churning past us up to the first lifeline about a foot above the rails on both sides almost all the way back to the cockpit. Kenny threw us up the inflatable jackets with built in harnesses. I put Davids on him so that he wouldnt have to take his hands off the tiller. Mine was on next, and by this point everything was roaring massively. The wind was really coming after the mainsail, and after a quick debate with David about who should go and take it down (he wanted to, but I didn't trust myself with the tiller yet in a storm like this) I scrambled up to the mast and tore it down as quickly as I could move my hands, tying a line around it to keep it all together. I made it back to the cockpit and rejoined David. He was really under intense strain with the tiller. We stared stared with a sick feeling at the huge Genoa full of violent wind, dragging us through the seas at what must have been 12-18 knots. The Genoa is over 30 years old and Im wishing it would tear to shreds so that we could take cover in the cabin. The storm has blacked out the sky and the full moon. Im glad of it- I dont want to see the full face of the storm. The 10 feet of visibility that we have is enough. Through all the blackness we spot a container ship running almost at a right angle towards us. We get on the radio and try to make contact, but never get a response. Kenny hands us up the spotlight and as the ship gets closer I shine it right at the bridge of the ship. I dont know if it was the spotlight or if they heard us on the radio, but we didnt get any closer after that. After sending the spotlight back down to Kenny, the boat was thrown sideways by a huge wave that sent Kenny straight into the wing nut of a brass portal.
To my frustration the Genoa holds strong and the winds build. I feel like a locomotive plowing through the waves, or a submarine under dive. Were tied tight to the cockpit, but I still check and make sure that my EPERB is securely attached. Adrenaline drives me strong for 3 hours. Every motion I make is lighting quick and well coordinated. The adrenaline rush feels great, and I think that I can take the Genoa down, but David says that it's too risky without a jackline. After 3 hours of constant strain, the storm winds calm the slightest bit, and the rain stops. The seas hold steady if not increase. This continues for about an hour as our energy wears down. Weve been munching handfuls of chocolate chips and had a protein bar each, but exhaustion hits hard and fast. David says that he could fall asleep right there at the tiller. I cant have that! He looks really drowsy, and I think he means it. I start asking him questions and talking about whatever. He perks up with conversation about milking cows, farm work, my new barn apartment, and why I didnt last at an office job. He tells me about everywhere hes been surfing- Africa, the Med., Mexico, the Caribbean, Cuba, alot of big names are dropped. Next I hear about his Mexico trip where he and some friends drove all over camping and surfing. Seems like David has lived a full life so far, hes a really interesting guy to sail with.
We make it to daylight and the seas stay strong. I take over while David dries off. When he comes back up to take the tiller, I sit back and right away fall asleep. He isnt faring much better, and Mike comes up to take over. Kenny's cut could really use a few stitches. I pull out the suture that my Dad gave me, but Kenny won't let me sew him up. I try to bribe him with chocolate but he doesnt go for it. I dry off and head to sleep, the boat pitching and rolling violently. During the storm I was constantly repeating ''He is mightier than the waves of the sea'' calling on my Creator to calm the seas. He heard me, and my confidence grew in His power and strength.
It's raining heavily today in West Cork, Ireland, so I'll post a few entries.
Charleston Harbor Wed. June 11 2008
We were supposed to leave yesterday morning, then evening, then late night, then early this morning, then noon, and now its 12:48pm and Im still alone on the boat, waiting. There is so much to do to prepare for an Atlantic crossing.
Every time I move I whack my hot air balloon sized head on something. Boom gallows here (that was a good one), garlic and onions hanging from the ceiling there, heater, cabinet, hatch, my skull has marked them all. I know Im still alive by my constant headache.
Last night it was so hot I slept out on the deck. I was out cold until what must have been two A.M. I heard something that woke me to a face staring down at me! I had a seizure and fell into the cockpit onto my new headphones, snapping them. It was only David in the dinghy; he forgot the tools he needed to build the bowsprit in his hotel room.
Atlantic Ocean 6.12.08 Thur. 9:14pm
Im on a 32' Sailboat in the Atlantic. We left the harbor with quite a few unfinished projects. The bowsprit was rotten and cracked, and David took it off to make a pattern for the new one. The new one is laying on the top deck because he didnt have access to a drill press to drill the holes for the all-thread. So we have no bowsprit and that makes changing sails a real balancing act. Another side effect is that the bowsprit handrail has nothing to bolt into, making all lifelines ahead of the cabin loose and almost useless. Our watermaker isnt wired up, and that means it hasnt been tested, and I dont think we have enough water to make it to Bermuda. Our new batteries are sitting in the floor of the cabin, and our main inverter isnt working. Our compass lights arent wired up so we use a flashlight at night, our safety rail around the cockpit isnt finished, and we have no mast or stern lights, although we do have red and green on the side stays. Our GPS wiring isnt finished, so were using a handheld. Our radar isnt wired. Our sansom posts are cracked, the new ones are sitting on the deck. The inflatable dinghy wouldnt fit on the deck inflated, so its rolled up on deck. The pump is somewhere in the cabin, and the motor is on the stern deck, in our way because the motor mount attaches to the unfinished saftey rail for the cockpit. We dont have a life raft. The HF radio isnt installed, and our EPERBS arent registered. The spreaders have no spreader boots and can easily rip the headsail if it comes in contact with the spreader, in fact the sail may have just been ripped a bit on the starboard spreader. I would probably get off if I could.
The wind just changed from due west to due east and weve been tacking between a heading of 30 to 160 degrees. Average speed of 4.3knots.
Saturday 6-14-08
Earlier fears have subsided, but I will still be mighty happy to see Bermuda on the horizon. Were stuck on a glassy smooth surface with no wind; the diesel has been clanking us along for hours. I just took a ''shower'' in the head sink.
Sunday 6-15-08
Were almost halfway to Bermuda! Thats not so much a joyous exclamation as it is one of perplexity. This was supposed to be a 5-7 day lef. I know why its taken so long- the wind has been in the totally wrong direction. Weve covered more distance in the past 24 hours than in the whole of the first 3 days..or 2 or however long its been. It hurts my head to think of how much longer it is to Ireland. One day at a time has never been more important.
So far its been much smoother than I was expecting. Smoother and slower! Right now I'll say crossing the Atlantic is overrated, but Im sure that will have changed by the end, ha.
We dodged a waterspout today. It was my watch from 1-3pm and I saw it in a storm group probably 10 miles or less off to our starboard. We were using the Genoa, and travelling with the wind at 90degrees to the sweet tune of 5knots. I was sorry to take it up to 30degrees to make sure we stayed well clear of the spout. You can see from the last line that Im not yet able to refer to the sailboat as ''her''. But after 40 days out here I'll probably be calling anything ''her'' that will let me.
Tuesday 6-17-08 10:41AM
So I eat my words about it being smooth. Early Monday morning on my watch from 12-3am a few rain drops hit my head. It was almost 1AM. I turned around and saw a few clouds, but nothing spectacular, and poked my head into the cabin to tell David, who was still up working on getting our HF modem working. His watch had just ended at 12AM. We were cruising at a steady 6knots, and just as the first rain drops hit we gained to 8knots quickly. (8knots is a big deal in a boat with a hull speed of 7knots. That means when you do anything over 7 you start to push the water like a bulldozer instead of slicing through it.) ''Hey man were at 8knots and getting a bit of rain, wanna take down some sails?'' I asked David. He quickly put the laptop up and climbed up to the cockpit with me. Within the next 2 minutes it felt like the wind doubled. David was already straining at the tiller, and we had the Genoa and full main up. (The Genoa was our second biggest headsail.) Our slow sail turned into a train ride barreling through heavy seas. Water was churning past us up to the first lifeline about a foot above the rails on both sides almost all the way back to the cockpit. Kenny threw us up the inflatable jackets with built in harnesses. I put Davids on him so that he wouldnt have to take his hands off the tiller. Mine was on next, and by this point everything was roaring massively. The wind was really coming after the mainsail, and after a quick debate with David about who should go and take it down (he wanted to, but I didn't trust myself with the tiller yet in a storm like this) I scrambled up to the mast and tore it down as quickly as I could move my hands, tying a line around it to keep it all together. I made it back to the cockpit and rejoined David. He was really under intense strain with the tiller. We stared stared with a sick feeling at the huge Genoa full of violent wind, dragging us through the seas at what must have been 12-18 knots. The Genoa is over 30 years old and Im wishing it would tear to shreds so that we could take cover in the cabin. The storm has blacked out the sky and the full moon. Im glad of it- I dont want to see the full face of the storm. The 10 feet of visibility that we have is enough. Through all the blackness we spot a container ship running almost at a right angle towards us. We get on the radio and try to make contact, but never get a response. Kenny hands us up the spotlight and as the ship gets closer I shine it right at the bridge of the ship. I dont know if it was the spotlight or if they heard us on the radio, but we didnt get any closer after that. After sending the spotlight back down to Kenny, the boat was thrown sideways by a huge wave that sent Kenny straight into the wing nut of a brass portal.
To my frustration the Genoa holds strong and the winds build. I feel like a locomotive plowing through the waves, or a submarine under dive. Were tied tight to the cockpit, but I still check and make sure that my EPERB is securely attached. Adrenaline drives me strong for 3 hours. Every motion I make is lighting quick and well coordinated. The adrenaline rush feels great, and I think that I can take the Genoa down, but David says that it's too risky without a jackline. After 3 hours of constant strain, the storm winds calm the slightest bit, and the rain stops. The seas hold steady if not increase. This continues for about an hour as our energy wears down. Weve been munching handfuls of chocolate chips and had a protein bar each, but exhaustion hits hard and fast. David says that he could fall asleep right there at the tiller. I cant have that! He looks really drowsy, and I think he means it. I start asking him questions and talking about whatever. He perks up with conversation about milking cows, farm work, my new barn apartment, and why I didnt last at an office job. He tells me about everywhere hes been surfing- Africa, the Med., Mexico, the Caribbean, Cuba, alot of big names are dropped. Next I hear about his Mexico trip where he and some friends drove all over camping and surfing. Seems like David has lived a full life so far, hes a really interesting guy to sail with.
We make it to daylight and the seas stay strong. I take over while David dries off. When he comes back up to take the tiller, I sit back and right away fall asleep. He isnt faring much better, and Mike comes up to take over. Kenny's cut could really use a few stitches. I pull out the suture that my Dad gave me, but Kenny won't let me sew him up. I try to bribe him with chocolate but he doesnt go for it. I dry off and head to sleep, the boat pitching and rolling violently. During the storm I was constantly repeating ''He is mightier than the waves of the sea'' calling on my Creator to calm the seas. He heard me, and my confidence grew in His power and strength.
Saturday 6-21-08 12:51 AM Bermuda time
We just dropped anchor after threading our way through the surprisingly narrow channel. I love to smell land again. The first thing I remember smelling were the trees and the dirt. Even the chirps of the night time insects were welcome. In the ''quarantine'' section of the harbor (we have to wait until 8am to clear customs) it is amazingly quiet and still. I cant feel any movement at all from the boat. Once I was aware of the stillness, the exhaustion hit me. My calves feel like rocks- every muscle feels to have been used in keeping balance on the sail here. And I am so happy to be here. I have never appreciated land like this. A smooth breeze is flickering through My Star and Im sleeping in the V-berth tonight.
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Treefort
We finished the treefort last weekend. The materials were all from trees that had fallen over from storms in the woods, so it blends in well except for the bright blue rope used to tie it all together, hah.
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Three fingers
Theres stuff like this just out in cow pastures over here. One neighbor said that they date to 3000B.C.
Looking for good skipping rocks. And diamonds and crystals as usual..
Two studs in front of some equally studly cliffs
Im living on the tip of Reubens finger!
The coast is painfully beautiful. My legs still hurt.
Looking for good skipping rocks. And diamonds and crystals as usual..
Two studs in front of some equally studly cliffs
Im living on the tip of Reubens finger!
The coast is painfully beautiful. My legs still hurt.
Somewhere in Southern Ireland
Im working on a farm in Southern Ireland now.
Ive upgraded from wet sailboat bunk to caravan in the backyard! Ive got a kitchen, living room with TV!, bedroom with non-floating bed and a shower with HOT WATER. Its quite the pad.
Reuben is 7 and A HALF (the half is very important) and we look for crystals and diamonds on the way to the treefort that weve been building in the woods. We just finished the treefort today, which was perfect because Reuben starts school tomorrow. Here he is with a diamond. Around here you can find them just laying around, princess cut and all. We rich.
Green is my thing at the moment. And no more water than this, puh-leaze.
Reuben is 7 and A HALF (the half is very important) and we look for crystals and diamonds on the way to the treefort that weve been building in the woods. We just finished the treefort today, which was perfect because Reuben starts school tomorrow. Here he is with a diamond. Around here you can find them just laying around, princess cut and all. We rich.
Green is my thing at the moment. And no more water than this, puh-leaze.
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