Tuesday, August 13, 2019

San Diego: last evening

        “The sea is our most universal symbol for memory.”
        The words come from one of the short stories in THE STORIES OF JOHN CHEEVER which I bought through the ungracefully named but useful BookBud.
        I am not certain that the words are true, but they are worth considering.
        I knew John Cheever’s name, but had not read anything of his before THE STORIES, most of which first appeared in THE NEW YORKER and are about residents of that city or suburbs.  Some are set in other parts of New England and more than a dozen in Italy, though usually about American travelers or ex-pats living there.  
        I am not one of those who hate New York.  I lived there on the fringe at City Island for most of one year and have sailed there two or three times.  But I am also not one who thinks New York is the center of the universe.  That I read all 900 pages of John Cheever’s stories is testament to how fine a writer he is.
        Perhaps my favorite is ‘The Swimmer’ in which a man in one of the suburbs decides to swim several miles home from the house of an acquaintance, going from backyard swimming pool to backyard swimming pool.  His feat has an unexpected ending.

        I went from John Cheever to another BookBud purchase, FACING THE WAVE:  A journey in the wake of the tsunami by Gretel Ehrlich which is stunning in her intelligence, insight, sensitivity and writing ability.  
        The tsunami is that caused by the 9.0 earthquake on March 11, 2011.
        By chance the first chapter is titled, ‘The Swimmer’, a very different swimmer than John Cheever’s.
        In another chapter, a farmer who lost everything except his life in the tsunami gives his niece one of four fresh tomatoes he has managed to grow where he has been relocated.  She says, “This is absurd.  You have nothing and are giving us food.”  He stares hard at her:  “The less I have the happier I am.”

        I am writing in late afternoon and will soon go up to shower.
        Earlier a man, now 50, came by with his son and mother, whom I had met before.  He grew up in Mission Beach and on a November morning in 1978 his father walked him and his brother to the bridge over part of Mission Bay and watched CHIDIOCK TICHBORNE head out the channel to began her voyage.
        Before that I walked three miles to the closest liquor store that carries Laphroaig 10 year.  I was out—yes, all those bottles I was given upon my arrival on April 29 have been emptied.  In mitigation, I did not drink it all myself.  I shared—and I wanted to savor a sip on this my last evening on GANNET and the water for a while.
        I have been here seven weeks today and I accomplished what I wanted to.  Next time I will go sailing for a week or two.  I know not where.
        Most of my life is public, but part private and what more than a 25th wedding anniversary, so the rest of this week is for Carol and me.  The next entry will come from Evanston next week, where I will also upload two videos of the restored GANNET and her new home.
        Be kind to one another in my absence.  Be kind to one another period.


Monday, August 12, 2019

San Diego: the richest man in the world



        The richest man in the world is not Jeff Bezos or any other billionaire.
        The richest man in the world is Webb Chiles because he has enough and knows it, and because he has had the greatest wealth of all:  time.
        Neither of these came about by chance.
        I have enough because I don't need much.
        More than thirty years ago a British journalist wrote: "Perhaps no one in the history of seafaring has done as much with as little as Webb Chiles."  That was after the $29,000 EGREGIOUS and the $5,000 CHIDIOCK TICHBORNE, but before the $35,000 RESURGAM, the $22,000 THE HAWKE OF TUONELA, and the $9,000 GANNET.  While I spent more on each of them than that initial cost, I have never owned a boat that likely cost as much as your car.
        Of time, mine has been my own for more than forty years.  That was a deliberate decision.   Few, if any, billionaires could claim as much.  Their wealth owns them as much and perhaps more than they own it.

        I have just come below after sipping Plymouth gin and listening to music on deck, a mix that included an African, an Australian aboriginal, an American, a Spanish group, a Portuguese group, a Brazilian, a Canadian, an Irishman, and an Englishman.
        Friday night I started to listen to a Beethoven string quartet until a power boater in the next finger started working on his engine, which was always loud and became deafening when he revved it, as he frequently did.  Poor Beethoven didn't stand a chance.

        I did my laundry today.  As I walked to and from the shore, I noticed four more owls on boats, in addition to the one on the power boat across from me.
        Imagine at the end of your life being asked what you did and replying, "I made plastic owls."
        "Why?"
        "To frighten birds off boats."
        "Did it work?"
        "No."

        Last evening while I was on deck a young man, at least by my standards, perhaps in his late 20s, came into view crossing from right to left on a stand up board.  He had on a black tee-shirt.  It read: 
                                      I ❤️ MY
                                       CRAZY
                                      (and then a word with smaller letters I could not read)
                                       WIFE
        When he got close enough I saw that the missing word was MEXICAN.
        I called to him that I had been trying to read his shirt and said, "Good for you."
        He laughed and waved.
        A few seconds after he passed out of view to the left, an attractive young woman on a stand up board paddled into view from the right.  She was smiling and I made the connection.
        "You are the one he loves."
        She nodded and grinned.
        It is good to be young and in lust and love, which I believe is the usual progression.
        It is good to be old and in lust and love.
        And anywhere in between.  
                                            

Saturday, August 10, 2019

San Diego: the anti-GANNET






        I pass this boat each time I go ashore.  It--and I intentionally do not use 'she"--is on the main dock near one of the two ramps to the marina.  Apparently the owner is unaware or chooses to ignore the rule about storing bicycles and other crap on the dock.  

————

        A clarification.
        If--and note the 'if'--I ever cross another ocean it will not be for years.  If it happens I am saving it for my 80s which don't start until November 2021, assuming I last that long. 
        I am so content in GANNET's present location that I may sip Plymouth gin or 10 year Laphoaig on deck though the remaining sunsets of my life.

————

         My time on the little boat is almost over.
        Next Wednesday I fly to Phoenix where I will meet Carol who will drive us to a resort in Sedona, Arizona, near the Grand Canyon, to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary.  On August 18 we fly together back to Chicago.
        I will return to GANNET in October or November, depending on where Carol wants to spend Thanksgiving.  
        

Thursday, August 8, 2019

San Diego: ‘Scorpion’; sea dogs; feels like

        I thank both Bill and Art for tracking down a reference I made to Lucy Kaplansky’s song, ‘Scorpion’, in GANNET’s passage log.  Art also found the earlier reference I made to it in the journal.

https://www.inthepresentsea.com/the_actual_site/journal/Entries/2010/8/27_Evanston__THE_ELEPHANTS_JOURNEY%3B_THREE_STATIONS%3B_and_a_sexy_song.html


————

        Dogs in kayaks and on stand up boards pass GANNET daily.  Usually several a day.  They are not doing the paddling.  They have trained people to do that.  I have even seen several two dog boats, which perhaps should be the title of something.  I do not recall that dogs on the water were common here five years ago.  Almost all of them are wearing life jackets and almost all seem quite content and usually curious.  One or two have looked a bit worried, and one yipped continuously until he returned to the dock.
        None are the equal to Tom’s, Baby, of whom I have posted pictures before.  
        Baby stands lookout when Tom paddles his kayak or sails his Welsford Pathfinder, FIRST LIGHT, and wags her tail as a metronome to keep his strokes up to the desired pace.
        Tom sent me a video of them out on a beautiful glassy morning in the Florida Keys.


        They were out early to avoid the southern summer heat.
        At noon today San Diego was 70 with a ‘feels like’ 70.  I checked Hilton Head which was 92 feels like 108.  Hmmm.

        When I went up to shower a power boat named BAD BUOY was being hauled from the water.


Tuesday, August 6, 2019

San Diego: Lucy Kaplansky; freed; what’s left

        I have written about Lucy Kaplansky here before, but I can’t find the entry.  I called her ‘Scorpion’ the sexiest song ever written.
        I have several of her albums.  I enjoy them all and have been asked which of her songs are my favorites.
        ‘Scorpion’ is certainly one of them.  I have two different versions and prefer the one on the album, RED HORSE, which she shares with Eliza Gilkyson and John Gorka.
        Another of my favorite of her songs is also on that album, ‘Blue Chalk.’
        ‘Ten Year Night’ from the album of that name and ‘The Tide’ from the album of that name round out my top four.
        I particularly like the contrast between ‘Scorpion’ in which a woman wants to give everything and ‘The Tide’ where she has nothing to give.

————

        Last week my removable bow sprit wasn’t.  One of the knurled knobs securing the flange that holds it in place was frozen and despite my massive strength could not be budged, so I painted around and beneath it, then sprayed it with Corrosion Block and WD40 and tapped it with a hammer a couple of times.  Yesterday I was surprised to find that one or the other of the sprays had worked.  The knob moved with fingers.  It still does.  A sailor’s small pleasure.


————

        I have had an indolent day.  I have done nothing but listen to music and read THE STORIES OF JOHN CHEEVER.  I have only left GANNET to put a sack of trash on the dock and move a can of paint into the dock box.  I expect to muster sufficient ambition to take the trash up with me when I shower later.
        The GANNET to do list is down to:
                   Stern running light
                   Wind instruments?
                   Repair foul weather gear
                   Upholstery:  pipe berths, v-berth
                   Replace spray hood
                   Replace standing rigging; furling gear inspection
                   Leaks bow and forward hatch

        I expect that the stern running light is only a loose wire, but before I crawl back there I will buy an LED light.  The present one has a bulb.
        The question mark after wind instruments is that I will probably buy another unit, but I sailed much of GANNET’s circumnavigation without wind instruments and am tired of them malfunctioning.
        The seam in the seat of one set of foul weather gear needs regluing.
        The pipe berths need replacing, but it is an ordeal to remove the covers and I may buy a yard or two of vinyl and glue it over the top third of each berth.
        The v-berth cushions are all right, but I have always wanted them to be an inch thicker and of firmer foam.
        The spray hood made in Durban is showing signs of weakening due to sun exposure.
        I see no defects in the standing rigging, but I always replace standing rigging after a circumnavigation.  
        Depending on what the rigger finds, I may replace the jib furling gear too.
        Listing the leaks is a gesture.  I have been trying to find and fix them for years. I have rebedded the forward hatch twice.  Maybe someday when I am really bored, I will try again, though I expect that I will have to continue to live with them.

Monday, August 5, 2019

San Diego: world wide; ocean walk






        I am simultaneously on opposite sides of the world and part way in between.
        I thank Mark for sending a link to an article about me in the Australian AFLOAT magazine and Goggle has just notified me that an excerpt from THE OPEN BOAT: Across the Pacific has appeared in PRACTICAL BOAT OWNER in the UK.  
        I knew that both pieces were being prepared, but not when they would be published.
        The PRACTICAL BOAT OWNER piece does not appear to be available online.
        Kevin Green, the author of the AFLOAT piece and I have emailed at intervals for more than a year and we had an hour long FaceTime conversation.  He did his research and got it mostly right, but there are a few errors and I take exception to his assertion that I am the first American to sail alone around Cape Horn only because of the technicality that Joshua Slocum went through the Straits of Magellan.  I have said that I believe the Straits are more difficult with deep anchorages, other traffic—though not in Slocum’s day, williwaws, and always lee shores.  I prefer sea room.  But the Straits of Magellan are not rounding Cape Horn.  That is not a technically; it is a fact.
        Neither Chichester nor I made non-stop circumnavigations.  He stopped once; I twice.
        Suzanne was not my fifth wife, but my third and maybe fourth in that we were married twice.
        And I have never used the Torqeedo on my dinghy.  I have never used any outboard on a dinghy.  I row.  I have said that when I am too old to row ashore, it will be time to give it up.
        These are not to be seen as criticisms of what is a mostly accurate article in which Kevin used the now compulsory ‘legendary’ before my name, just minor corrections.

————

        After a few minor boat chores, I walked over to Mission Beach and along the ocean to a supermarket a little over three miles away.  As you can see it is as is to be expected here another beautiful day. 






        

Saturday, August 3, 2019

San Diego: restored


       I finished painting the deck areas between the Raptor nonskid this morning.  GANNET is restored to respectability.
      There is more to do, but this is enough for now.  I am no longer living in moldy squalor.  And the mad painter has left the room.  Or boat.

      Fifteen minutes or so ago I was sitting on deck sipping Plymouth gin and listening to Lucy Laplansky when two two person kayaks came past.  People in these kayaks are pretty much at eye level with me sitting on GANNET and so I often speak with them.  In this instance I said, “What a wonderful evening and how great it is to be on the water.”  I should perhaps preference that by noting that a bit earlier I watched another two person kayak go past with a young man, perhaps boy, and young woman, perhaps, girl, who were clearly unfamiliar with being on the water and as clearly awed by the experience.  They went out a short distance and just drifted overcome by the grace and beauty.  One of the men in the two kayaks who were passing now responded, “How come you are not out sailing?”  I would not have said this had he not asked, but I replied, “I sailed this boat around the world finishing a few months ago and that is enough for a while.”  Gasps from four young people who of course had no idea of my other voyages.  I suppose one of my purposes is to stretch imaginations.


     

Thursday, August 1, 2019

San Diego: three surprises

        I painted the cockpit today. 
        Painting white on white in bright sunshine and with my flawed vision, I found in this evening’s subdued light  places I need to touch up which I will do when I paint the remaining parts of the deck between the Raptor nonskid panels.
        I am content here working on GANNET.  That is the first of the surprises.  I don’t know that contentment is my natural state.
        While I have lived more in the MidWest than anywhere else, I am not a MidWesterner, though when I think of Americans I admire, other than those of the true greatest generation,  that of the Revolution, the names that first come to mind are MidWesterners:  Abraham Lincoln; Ulysses S. Grant; Harry Truman.  But I am pelagic and and as I have noted Quivira Basin and Mission Beach are as much as any place on land the center of my life.
        The second surprise came when I learned that several people thought that I would sell GANNET after completing her circumnavigation.  That had never occurred to me.  I did not buy GANNET intending to sail her around the world.  That evolved.  She suits me perfectly and I think I suit her perfectly.  Unless, as I think highly unlikely, Carol decides she is willing to live on a boat full time again, in which case I would buy something THE HAWKE OF TUONELA size, GANNET and I are good for the duration.
        The third surprise to me is that only three months after we completed GANNET’s circumnavigation I have thought of another voyage I would like to make.
        It took me a year after my first circumnavigation before I thought of another.  And the passage from Panama was brutal and joyless.  I completed it from pride and honor.  I have a self-image of Webb Chiles being as far as possible out to the right of the bell shaped curve of normal distribution where the line flattens and never quite touches the baseline, a self-image I will not fail to live up to.
        I am not saying I will ever make another voyage.  If I do it will  not be a circumnavigation.  The first phase would be to sail GANNET across the Pacific to New Zealand’s Bay of Islands, where she would spend a final year.  And from there I know, but will not say.
        It may never happen.
        I am really old and we are all ultimately self-solving problems.
        I have done enough, and I haven’t.  I might never be able to do enough.
        Time and chance will solve that.

Wednesday, July 31, 2019

San Diego: miss

        Although today was another perfect day, I did not go sailing.  I did not feel enough enthusiasm to tack out the channel, sail along the beach for an hour or two and turn back, so I sanded the cockpit.  I will paint it tomorrow.
        I am long on the record as not liking to daysail.  I like to go out and not come back.  I am going to have to think this through now that I am in the third part of my life.  Perhaps, Iike my friend, Steve Earley, I am going to have to plan week or two week cruises, though I will admit that I have thought of another voyage, and I am only three months from the completion of GANNET’s circumnavigation.  I don’t know that it will happen.  It is not a circumnavigation, but it would be epic. 
        I am feeling my way into the dying part of my life, as I expect that all of us who are aware do.  My situation may be unusual in that I believe I have already fulfilled my destiny and perhaps outlived it.  A Ulysses far older than any other great poet ever imaged, and perhaps more aware of Penelope, which I will write about in time.  I don’t believe I have to do more, but perhaps I do.  Perhaps as I wrote in the first passage of GANNET’s circumnavigation from this very basin to Hilo, Hawaii, “Use yourself up, old man.  Use yourself up.”  It may be my pride and curse that perhaps I still haven’t used myself up.  And perhaps as Milton wrote about his blindness, “And that one talent which is death to lodge in me useless.”  I am aware of the religious interpretations of that.  But there are powers some of us are born with that demand endless expression.
        As I say in the video not yet uploaded I have a lot of history in this basin and within a few miles.
        I lived aboard here in the late 1960s.  I began my second circumnavigation from here.  I began my sixth from here.  And my grandparents’ house where I spent my teenaged summers was two miles away.
        Quivira Basin would be an honorable end.  But maybe it isn’t.  I don’t know.

        I was asked recently what I miss in moving from a 37’ boat to a 24’ one.  A good question that I had not been asked before.
        I thought for a moment and said, “Other than living with Carol on a boat, which she doesn’t want to do anymore, nothing.”
        GANNET suits me alone perfectly.  I go to the monastery of the sea.  She is the perfect monk’s cell, and better at this instant than she has ever been now that I have gotten rid of unnecessary debris.
        I can fit every essential part of my life on GANNET’s small space:  I can write; I can sail; I can read; I can listen to music.  Every essential part of my life, except Carol.


        

Tuesday, July 30, 2019

San Diego: the owl myth and more



        The above shows something I should have done a long time ago and a gift that makes me smile.
        On my last trip to West Marine I bought three feet of black 5mm shock cord.  Back on GANNET I cut it into two pieces, drilled four holes, and in less than five minutes had mounts for the Boom 2 speakers.  This has been surprisingly pleasing.  I can reach over and turn them on or off while sitting at Central, set them to play in stereo from an app on my iPhone, and due to this ease have been listening to more music than ever.  I can also easily remove them to take on deck.

        Also in that photo is a GANNET billfold that is a gift Carlos made and sent to me.
        I hesitated to write about it because I do not want to seem to be soliciting gifts or turning every personal relationship public,  but I like it so much and appreciate the thought that I asked Carlos for permission to show it.  I have thanked him personally for the billfold and do so publicly.
       

        Some believe that sea gulls and other birds can be frightened off boats by hanging a plastic owl on them.  You can see how effective this is.

        High tech boats come and go from the boat yard.
        These two are there now.
        The trimaran has far too much beam for the travel lift and must be raised and lowered with a rented crane which probably costs almost as much as it did for me to get GANNET put in the water in Panama.



        I was asked to make a video of GANNET’s restored interior, which I did yesterday afternoon.  I also took the GoPro on deck to show my evening view.  I will not have a good enough Internet connection to upload it until sometime in the last half of next month.

        The GUARDIAN ran an interesting piece about the benefits of walking, both mental and physical, calling it a ‘super power’.

https://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2019/jul/28/its-a-superpower-how-walking-makes-us-healthier-happier-and-brainier

Sunday, July 28, 2019

San Diego: seven sea lions; a round the world boat


        I cleared the port pipe berth and slithered aft this morning.  I found to remove only the outboard mount for the Avon dinghy, a backup manual bilge pump which had no hoses, and a corroded folding cart.  
        I have now gone through GANNET bow to stern and she is much less cluttered and better organized.
        I have bought new towels and new stowage containers and waterproof bags.  The little boat is as clean and as mold free as she was 30,000 miles ago.
        I do not like to live in squalor, yet sometimes during a voyage I must.  I am very glad to have imposed order on chaos and slowed entropy.
        Later in the morning I Ubered to West Marine and spent a totally boring $240 on a replacement PortaPotti, a flotation cushion, dry bags, life jackets, and a replacement backup bilge pump.
       
        In the afternoon I rowed around Quivira Basin.
        Seven sea lions were clustered together at one end of the bait barge tanks almost sinking it.  
        One was a big male.  Six sleek smaller females sprawled around him.  Two more sea lions were on the big yellow float at the end of the line of bait tanks and two more swimming nearby.  This is the most sea lions I have seen.
        Quivira Basin is a sea lion paradise.
        Ample food.  No predators.  A protected species that we the greatest predator cannot harm and I am sure they sense this.  The bait barge and floats and the swimming platforms of boats to sun and sleep upon.  Without dying they have gone to sea lion heaven.
        Sea lions are amusing, but I am not impressed with them.  They lack grandeur and ambition.  

        While the Avon was in the water I scrubbed GANNET’s waterline.
        There was only slime and some weed.
        The antifouling is Pettit’s Vivid white.  It seems to me that they have made it harder and stronger.

        Tomorrow I will do laundry.
        On Tuesday I will have lunch with a friend.
        On Wednesday I will go for a sail and probably anchor for the night at Mariner’s Cove off South Mission Beach.

        Late this afternoon I was in the Great Cabin when kayakers came by.
        One, looking past GANNET, said, “That ODYSSEUS is a world rounding boat.  Look at that mast and cutter rig.”
        It never occurred to him that he was looking at the wrong boat.

        
        

Saturday, July 27, 2019

San Diego: time traveler



        This is a rare second post in one day, but Goggle notified me of a mention of Webb Chiles online.  It was a repeat in something called SF Gate of a piece that originally ran in LATITUDE 38.  What is amusing here is the caption.

Webb Chiles aboard ‘Gannet’ in Durban, South Africa, in 2106. “I [had] just arrived in Durban after the 6,000 mile passage from Darwin, Australia. You can see the Q flag flying. I was then a mere 74 years old.”  


2106?   I am amazing, but not that amazing.

I must confess that I do like this one’s “77 years old never looked so young.”


        My life is amusing.


San Diego: ruddered; dancing



        A noisy night.  Not people, creatures.  A Great Blue Heron spent the night standing on the launch hanging from ODYSSEUS’s stern, sometimes screeching loudly, often merely grumbling to himself, and the sea lions were more vocal than usual.  

        With the dinghy in the water, I removed the other items stowed on the starboard pipe berth and slithered aft and pulled out everything stowed in the dead stern space starboard of the center line.  I’ll do the port side tomorrow.
        Among the items is my emergency rudder which, along with the Jordan drogue and my dry suit, I do not regret buying and am very pleased not to have used.
        I have not fit the emergency rudder since before the circumnavigation began and decided to do so.  It is heavier than I remember.  Or perhaps I have become weaker.  As you can see it did go briefly in place and is now again stowed below.
        I sprayed and wiped down all I could reach with my last bottle of New Zealand's Exit Mold.  There was not a lot of mold there.
        I found several objects that I enjoyed disposing of including a length of hose and the PortaPotti that came with GANNET which was moldy beyond redemption.  I have never used it, but will buy another in order to meet inspection if GANNET is ever inspected.

        Last evening I came across a quote at the beginning of a film about mountains and partially about climbing them.  “Those who dance are thought mad by those who cannot hear the music.”  I have subsequently found it to be well known and attributed to various people.
        I have noted before what I call the dog whistle effect of my life.  There are those who cannot see or understand it, just as we cannot hear sounds dogs do.
        This is why I don’t try to answer the question, “Why do you sail?”  People either hear the music or they don’t.
        However, I have agreed to write a short ‘why’ piece for Latitude 38.
        It is not likely that I will do so before September at the earliest.

Thursday, July 25, 2019

San Diego: painted; rowed; home



        This morning I painted the tracks that attach the pipe berths to the hull and I am now finished.  For a while.  The cockpit needs to be painted, but it will wait.  
        I shot the interior with my iPhone 7+, Nikon AW1, and GoPro Hero 5 Black.  The GoPro was the best and the above came from it.  
        
        Having moved the dinghy into the cockpit while I painted the track, I pumped it up and rowed once around the bait barge.  Sea lions were sunning themselves and sleeping on the big floats at each end.   Sea gulls, pelicans and cormorants crowded the bait tanks.  Sometimes there are also egrets and at least one Great Blue Heron.  The smell on the leeward side of the bait barge is breathtaking.

        Yesterday a dingy boat slightly larger than GANNET pulled into the space behind her.  Surprisingly for a boat that size she has an inboard engine, a noisy and odiferous inboard engine.  After it was turned off the man on it, aged I would guess somewhere around fifty, and I talked briefly.  The conversation ended when he asked what kind of engine I have and I replied a Torqeedo electric outboard.  Rather aggressively he declared, “No matter how green you people try to be, the best, most efficient fuel is diesel.”  I said, “No.  You are wrong.  The most efficient fuel is this.”  I pointed to my mainsail.  
        His jib was lashed to the bow pulpit.  His mainsail to the boom.  Both were uncovered and in tatters and unuseable.

        While sitting last evening on deck I realized that a good caption for the photo I posted yesterday would be ‘Home is the sailor.’
         I did not remember that the source is Robert Louis Stevenson’s ‘Requiem’.
               
                    Under the wide and starry sky
                    Dig the grave and let me lie.
                    Glad did I live and gladly die.
                    And I laid me down with a will.

                    This be the verse you grave for me:
                    Here he lies where he longed to be:
                    Home is the sailor, home from the sea,
                    And the hunter home from the hill.  
    

        But what is a sailor to do if his home is the sea?
        (This has decided to double space and I am tired of trying to fix it)
        I have written that my home is where Carol is and where GANNET is.
        I have also quoted in the front of one of my books, Nikos Kazantzakis in his THE ODYSSEY:  A Modern Sequel, “My soul, your voyages have been your native land.”
        Time to shower and sit on deck.

Wednesday, July 24, 2019

San Diego: almost finished



        I finished installing the last two replacement Blue Performance bags I use for stowage in the Great Cabin.  Naturally they were the most difficult, being placed between the main and partial bulkhead and awkward to reach, and today was sweat inducing.  The outside temperature was only 76º, but inside GANNET it was 89º.
        I used Gorilla Heavy Duty Construction Adhesive to glue strips of wood to the hull and then screwed the supplied hooks into the wood.  Many of you know far more than I about boat construction and may be aware of better products, but I have found Gorilla Super Glue, duct tape, and now Construction Adhesive very useful.
        Tomorrow I will apply another coat of oil to the wood and paint the black rails that attach the pipe berths to the hull and then I really will be finished.

        I thank my neighbor, Carlos, for the arbove photo which he took last night looking down from the deck of ODYSSEUS.
        I will be in the same pose in about five minutes.

Monday, July 22, 2019

San Diego: finished; differences; a failed drogue

        I finished painting the interior a few hours ago.  There is still some detail work to do and I still have to mount four of the Blue Performance bags that I use for stowage.  The one that attaches to the forward side of the main bulkhead is already in place.  But the job is almost complete and the little boat’s interior is much improved.  I did not mind the painting, but I did get a bit tired of tearing the boat apart each morning and putting it back together each afternoon.
        I had a wonderful time with Susan and Howard in Julian this weekend.  So close and yet a completely different world.


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        I measured the distance from where GANNET’s forestay reaches the deck to the forward edge of the mast.  It is 117”, which is 9.75’.  For non-sailors in measuring sailplans this is known as ‘J’.  Glenn measured the J on his GRENDEL, the prototype Moore 24, and found it to be only 104”, so my observation that her mast seemed farther forward than GANNET’s is correct.  
        GRENDEL’s sailplan differs from stock Moore 24s in other ways too.
        She is a masthead rig.  Stock Moores are fractional.  For non-sailors that means that the stay on which the jib is set does not go all the way to the masthead.
        And GRENDEL’s mainsail has a luff of 22’10”, where as far as I can tell GANNET’s is 25’.  The foot of the mainsails on both boats are about 9.5’.
        I am not sure where Glenn keeps GRENDEL.  It would be interesting to see her photographed beside a stock Moore.
        GRENDEL is an historic boat and, as I have said, Glenn has beautifully restored her.
        I thank him for taking the measurements.


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        I do not follow the round the world races or any longer read much about sailing, so I thank Bill for a link to an interesting analysis of the failure of a Jordan drogue in one of those races.  

https://www.morganscloud.com/2019/04/15/susie-goodalls-series-drogue-failure/

        GANNET’s was custom made by Ocean Brake because she is far lighter than their smallest standard drogue.  It is presently in the dock box.  I will pull it out and look at the bridle connection one day.

Saturday, July 20, 2019

Julian: 4,000’ up and 34 miles inland


        The view from Susan and Howard’s home.
        Quiet and peaceful here.
        Though the coast near Encinitas is only thirty-four miles to the west, you have to drive considerably farther to get here.
        We have driven and walked, seen a deer and many birds, including two wild turkeys.
        A sign beside one trail warns not to leave the trail because of the danger of rattlesnakes.  The sign is too far from the trail to read without leaving it.
        
         

Friday, July 19, 2019

San Diego: almost finished; outdoor concert

      I am almost finished painting GANNET’s interior.  Only the spaces between and under the pipe berths and beneath the two small counters beside Central remain.  They will wait until Monday.  Friends are coming by in an hour to take me up to their second home in Julian.  I have been there before.  Although only about an hour’s drive inland, Julian is at more than 4,000’ and has a completely different climate.  Hotter than San Diego in the summer and with an average of 2’ of snow in the winter.  I like it up there.
       After painting I will replace all five of the Blue Performance bags I use for storage in the Great Cabin.  The old ones are moldy beyond salvation.  I had a slight shock when I ordered the replacements because each costs $60-$70 and the order total was well over $300.  Ah, well, it is for a good cause:  a boat.
        
        While most of the US is brutally hot with temperatures that are or feel like more than 100ºF/38ºC, San Diego of course remains delightful.  The coastal clouds have burned off early the past two mornings and my evening drinks on deck have been perfect.  Two nights ago I was listening to Bach Cello Suites and two kayakers on their way in stopped to enjoy the free outdoor concert.  I am pleased to be a public service.
        I love GANNET’s location, but it is not one for a boat with a high priced paint job.  Kayakers run into the little boat with distressing frequency, sometimes hard.  There is lots of room and no excuse for this.  I accept it.  Usually this happens when youth groups come out in fleets.  
        GANNET’s does not have an expensive paint job.  Her topsides need repainting.  I did it before myself and will again sometime.  I don’t do professional quality work, but I can afford my wages.

        I thank Ants, who is preparing his Moore 24 for the Race to Alaska, for sending me information about the narrow catamaran I photographed a few entries ago.  He believes her to be a Gougeon 32.  The Gougeon brothers were behind the WEST system of boat construction, which has nothing to do with West Marine.  The boats were narrow for ease of trailering and had water ballast as well as a masthead float to keep the boats from inverting when they capsized.  Maybe I should put one on GANNET.

Monday, July 15, 2019

San Diego: Rustoleum and me; three hypotheses; flat

  
        GANNET’s interior is painted from the bow to the main bulkhead.  The bilge is also painted.
        I did the bow to the partial bulkhead and the bilge yesterday and the rest of the forward area today.
        The bow is difficult requiring long awkward reaching.
        Many of you wrote that you have used and recommend Rustoleum.  Jim and Steve and Glenn, in addition to Kent.  How is it that I have gone all these years without knowing this?  I’m still learning.
        James wrote about a special extra hard Appliance Epoxy Rustoleum.  I found it in a spray can and used it on the bilge.  For the rest I used flat white Rustoleum from a can.  
        The fumes from the spray can were intense even with the hatches open.  Fortunately GANNET’s bilge is small and didn’t take long, after which I sat on deck until fumes dissipated  below brain damage level.  I hope.
        Painting while living on board is complicated by having to move everything out of a given area and then back in at the end of the day.  San Diego’s lack of rain makes this easier.
        Glenn, who beautifully restored GRENDEL, the prototype Moore 24, wrote that he used Rustoleum inside and out down to the waterline and sent along these photos which I am permitted to share with you.
        Looking at them, it seems to me that GRENDEL’s mast is farther forward than is GANNET’s, but I am not certain this is the case.




        I expect to have the interior painted to the end of the pipe berths this week.  I don’t think I am going to paint the stern area.  I got stuck back there last time I did.


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        Several readers inquired about the ‘Three Hypotheses’ post.  Apple never had a way to search iWeb, but I googled ‘Webb Chiles three hypotheses’ and got an instant link.


        That was even before fake news.

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        Michael sent me the following which he saw on a friend’s Facebook page.