Grommets, snaps, witch stitchery … Now that we had our solar panels and knew where we wanted to put them, we were debating all the different ways you can possibly attach them. I kept trying to break out the old hot glue gun, and Phillip kept vetoing it (for good reason). After some debate and research, we finally decided on Velcro. I was thrilled with the decision. I love velcrow. Back in the day, it was all I wore! Who wants to waste time tying laces when you can rock those Velcro flap shoes?
Nailed it! (Me and the Bro always brought it at the annual Albuquerque Hot Air Balloon Fiesta).
I considered myself a bit of a whiz with the Velcro. I had used it often to rig up nifty little things on the boat. You recall the Chair-Wow and my various Velcro/hot glue creations:
Velcrow for the solar panels was going to work just fine. So, we got up with our regular canvas guy — Tony with Coastal Canvas — and started laying out the panels and determining the attachment points. Recall we did have the issue with the Eisenglass window pane over the helmsman’s head that we had to work around:
However, Tony said it would not be a problem at all. He would simply reduce the size of the opening for the pane on top to accommodate the two square panels on either side. I like that guy. Seems for him, nothing’s a problem! We provided Tony with the bimini and our panels and he set to work.
In the meantime, I kept at it with the silks,
and eventually learned my first drop trick! (We call this the reach-and-grab … for obvious reasons.)
Phillip, however, seemed to think my new acrobatics could be put to better use on the boat.
“You like to climb, huh? Well, up you go!”
The Man runs a tight ship! Remember that steaming light we crushed during our trip to the Keys when we attempted our first (and hopefully our last) mid-sea mast climb to retrieve the main halyard?? Well, while we were waiting to get our bimini back from Tony, we picked up a new one and Phillip sent this little Cirque de Soul up the mast to fix it.
Maybe some silks skills do come in handy on the boat.
At 50 feet up, it’s hard to say which “sport” is more fun!
A few new tricks and projects later and it wasn’t long before we had our bimini back outfitted perfectly for our panels.
Tony reduced the size of our Eisenglass pane to open easily between the two square panels on the back.
And, his craftsmanship proved to be a vast improvement from my hot glue jobs.
With the Velcro outlines in place, we were ready to slap some panels on the bimini!
While the decision to stitch the Velcro onto the bimini was an easy one (it’s canvas, that’s a no-brainer), how, exactly, to attach the Velcro to the panels was another story. Although the panels we bought (the Renogy monocrystalline) are technically “flexible,” that really only means up to 30 degrees. The “flexible” panels could actually be considered pretty rigid when you start trying to stick a needle through one.
For an equivalent, I would say they feel about like a thin sheet of PVC. While there is a little white lip around the edge that we could have had Tony try to stitch through, there was no guarantee the needle could punch through or that, if it did, it wouldn’t crack the panel and ruin the monocrystalline cells. This time, Tony had a problem. He was understandably hesitant to crank up his heavy-duty industrial sewing machine and run one of our brand new expensive panels through. Can’t say that I blame him. Tony suggested we simply apply adhesive-backed Velcro to the backs of the panels to stick them on the bimini and even supplied us with a roll of industrial strength adhesive Velcro to use.
It was probably the right call. Having used that type of adhesive Velcro before, we knew it was pretty strong and risking the panels in a sewing machine catastrophe was not worth the added comfort of having the Velcro stitched onto the panels. Plus, the panels came pre-made with grommet holes at each corner if we wanted to do some hand-stitching to the bimini later for added security. We applied a thin strip of Velcro on each edge of the panels to match up with the Velcro outlines on the bimini.
We set them in place on the bimini and were pleased to find the Velcro gave a good, solid hold.
Absent gale gusts or a hurricane, we didn’t feel like the panels were going anywhere. But, now they were only attached. That was the easy part. They were not yet wired in.
Each panel has a positive and negative output — positive to pass the solar energy through, negative to ground the panel. We had three panels, a large 100 watt panel in the front and two 50 watt panels in the back. We were planning to wire the back two square panels together to basically have two panel outputs coming in (the 100 watt and the combined 50s). As I mentioned previously, we also had to install two MPPT Charge Controllers to regulate the flow of each solar “panel” into our house battery bank.
Example diagram of the combined 50 watts:
You having fun yet? While we like to research and troubleshoot and try to figure things like this out for ourselves (because no one’s going to be there to help us when these systems break in the middle of the dadgum ocean), when we’re faced with something completely new and do have the collective knowledge of our fellow boat buddies to pool from, we like to invite them over to the boat at times like these to “have a few beers.” That’s boat code for “I want your help with something.” We’ve been lucky to fall into a great group of boat friends in Pensacola, and they’re always eager to lend a hand or an opinion. Bottom-Job Brandon and our Broker-turned-Buddy Kevin came over and we all started scooching panels around, running wires and scratching our heads.
(Don’t they look smart?) What can I say, there were beers involved.
Decisions were made, though, as to where to mount the MPPT controllers, how to run the wires from the panels on top of the bimini, down the bimini frame and through the deck of the boat and how to connect the charge controllers to the main house battery bank. Up next, the real work of the solar project begins!
These circus skills really do translate. Perhaps I need to take up contortionism next … Stay tuned!
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Everyone likes power, right? Edison knew it. Torches, lanterns and candles are great, but bulbs are just way cooler (and much safer on a boat). We love the silence of the sea, the serenity of being at anchor and are pretty frugal with our amp hours. But, our trip to the Keys in 2014 told us there are a few electric gizmos we consider a must, and that we must find a better way to power them. Some of our more Edison-esque priorities are …
Lights:
Laptops and phones:
The radio and, most definitely, the fridge!
Ice just puts the “happy” in our hour(s) if you know what I mean.
But, if you want to enjoy all of these fun electric things, you must find an efficient way to POWER them. On the Niagara, our house battery bank consists of four (4) 6 volt Trojan T-125 wet-cell batteries, wired in series and in parallel, which charge on either shore power or the engine via the alternator (much like a car battery). We did replace the batteries in the fall of 2013, so they’re solid.
And, we do have a handy eMeter, which helps us monitor our usage and the remaining “juice” that we have left to enjoy our power-driven amenities.
But, with the engine as the only option to charge the batteries when we are away from shore, this meant we often had to crank the engine while on the hook and let it run idle to give the batteries some juice.
Now, there are a LOT of things we like to do while at anchor:
(Total gratuitous shot of Phillip, I know. It’s my blog. I don’t care.)
Sitting around watching the engine run so we can charge the batteries, however? Doesn’t really rank very high in our “fun” category:
Not to mention, it’s just hard on the engine. Diesels do not like to run idle without a load.
So, one of our primary projects after returning from the Keys was to install some solar panels on the boat that would allow us to use power from the sun to charge the house batteries while at anchor. Sounds simple, right? Well, it wasn’t. Thankfully, Phillip bore the brunt of the research end of this project. (Because let’s face it, he is definitely the brains of this outfit. I’m the brawn. We’ve got a great thing going.) There were so many different types of panels, manufacturers, installation techniques and set-ups to consider. We were debating between rigid panels versus flexible panels:
The high-end Italian-made panels versus the much less expensive Chinese “knockoffs.”
Think real Gucci versus what the guy is selling out of the back of his trunk around the corner. But, who’s going to know, right? Maybe there really are three “c”s in Gucci.
Without venturing too far outside of my meager solar knowledge (I’m sure Phillip is cringing at what I might be about to say right now and how far it might be from reality), one of the primary concerns for solar panels is their efficiency–that is, how much of the sun’s energy do they convert to solar power. While the fancy Italian models (Solbian) were boasting 22%, the knockoffs (Renogy and Aurinco) were still clocking a good 18% for a third of the cost (roughly, for purposes of our project, about $900 versus $300). We checked out a lot of cruiser’s forums discussing the Renogy flexible panels (mostly with good reports) and debated to no end about the pros and cons of each:
“You mean there are eight different products I have to choose between and everyone’s got a different opinion about each of them? Who ARE these boat people with all of their complicated decisions?”
The great solar debate quickly became exhausting. I felt like we needed one of those Don Draper decision trees (if you have not seen this – don’t rush it – it may help you make every important decision in your life going forward):
Finding the magic problem-solving power of the drink to be futile in the face of our dilemma, I decided in the meantime to take up another vice/hobby to help relieve some solar stress — the AERIAL SILKS!
A good friend of mine had been encouraging me to take it up for quite some time and I promised to give it a go when we got back from the Keys. The minute I started, I knew …
I should have done this years ago!
It was way too much fun to even remotely be called “work,” and I was trained by the best. My silks instructor, Garret, is (sorry, but there’s really no other way to put this) a total silks badass:
It was also the perfect outlet for my inner circus!
With regard to the solar project, though, we found my new hobby quite emPOWERing and inspiring. After a few weeks of silks training and further solar debate, we decided the Renogy flexible panels were the right choice for us.
The reviews were encouraging, the price was better, and the flex (up to 30 degrees) would allow us to mount them on top of our curved overhead canvas without having to add the stainless racks that would be necessary for rigid panels. The flex decision, however, did not end our debate. (We referred back to the Don Draper chart, but sadly found a drink and a nap didn’t solve this problem either.) We now had to decide how many panels to buy and whether to mount them on the dodger or the bimini or both.
The dodger:
The bimini:
Unfortunately, if a solar panel is shadowed, even if only partially, it greatly hinders the solar power output for the entire panel. While the dodger offers a wide canvas area for mounting, it’s sun exposure would be partially blocked by the boom, which meant output from panels on the dodger would be limited. We were also unsure where we would feed wires in from panels on the dodger down below deck to the charge controllers. (Solar panels require separate MPPT controllers which regulate the amount of solar power coming in to ensure it does not overload the batteries and/or burn the boat down, in that order. Don’t worry, we’ll get there. That’s a-whole-nother solar dilemma. It will require two Don Draper drinks and repeated insults to fellow crew members).
The bimini, while offering a large canvas area for mounting, unfortunately had the “window” to contend with. Our bimini has an Eisenglass cutout in the center, right above the helm, to allow the helmsman to view the sails and the windvane, which is mounted at the top of the mast, from behind the wheel. We certainly didn’t want to block this, but it’s large rectangular shape made fitting two panels on either side of it very difficult.
Needless to say, the decision had our heads spinning … I reverted to more silks therapy,
and Phillip took a nap. Both seemed to help.
Eventually, we decided to mount the panels sol-ely (no solar pun intended!) on the bimini. This would allow maximum direct sun exposure. It was also the largest canvas area available and the most protected, being above our heads and out of range of lines, sheets, gaffs, boat hooks, falling tools or other objects that could potentially damage panels mounted on top of the dodger. Our plan was to reduce the size of the Eisenglass window to accommodate two square panels on either side.
We measured the available space on the bimini, allowing a sufficient opening for the “window” above the helm to see the sails and wind vane, and decided to buy one large 100 watt panel (approximately 42″ x 22″) to mount on the front of the bimini:
and two (2) 50 watt panels (approximately 22″ x 21″) to mount on the back on either side of the Eisenglass window:
Like so!
The larger 100 watt panel promised an approximate 5 amps/hour input in direct sunlight and the two 50 watt panels combined promised another approximate 4 or so, for a (hopeful) total of 9 amps/hour going in. To be conservative, we estimated 8 amps/hr input. For anyone interested, here’s where you can earn your shooting PBS star for the day. As a general rule of thumb, we use approximately 4.5 amps/hour on the Plaintiff’s Rest while at anchor. With a 480-hour capacity battery bank (which we do not like to drain past 50%, or 240 hours), we could generally make it about one and a half days (~ 180 amps used) before we had to crank to recharge the batteries. With an estimated input of 8 amps/hour during ten (10) peak sunlight hours from the solar panels, this would offset our amp hour usage by about 80 amps per day, allowing us to go an approximate 4, if not 5 days, without having to crank the engine to recharge the batteries.
Four and a half days without having to run the engine would qualify as a pretty significant improvement to our lives on the hook. And, wasn’t the learning fun?
So, we finally had our panels and, presumably, we could make them fit around our Eisenglass window. Now came the simple task of mounting them. How do you go about doing that? Like everything else in the boat industry, it seemed there were eight different ways to do it and everyone had eight different opinions about it. We knew we were going to get those darn things on there somehow, but it would require more research, more therapy and another debate — snaps versus grommets, velcrow versus stitching. On and on. The possibilities had us tied up in knots.
Many thanks to the folks who make these posts a little more possible with PATREON.
To a certain degree, every passage is a shake-down passage. I mean, it’s rare cruisers pull up to a dock or anchorage after a trying-but-successful passage and say, “Yep, we did everything exactly right. All of our equipment worked just as we intended and we executed everything with unquestionable precision and skill.” Please. If you know cruisers like that, unfriend them. Nothing ever goes exactly as planned. There’s always something to learn or take away from a passage. That’s the beauty of sailing. It’s all about shaking–shaking things up, shaking them down, keeping the dust and cobwebs off. There are a million things we learned during our trip last year to the Keys. We’ve forgotten half of them by now, but most of the important lessons stuck. There were also many things we learned we wanted to do to the boat to better prepare it for our next BIG trip. We started keeping a running tally as we were going and then prioritizing–which projects were musts, and which were luxuries. One of our higher-up items on the list was replacing the old leather cover on our steering wheel.
Yeah, that ratty thing.
While a leather steering wheel cover for the boat may sound like a luxury, we consider it a necessity. If the auto-pilot will not hold and you’re forced to hold that thing for hours on end, anything that keeps your hands comfortable and less prone to cramp and ache while you’re doing it is anything but a luxury. Our leather cover had served us well since we bought the boat in 2013, but had suffered a few holes and missing chunks over the years.
And, if I had to hear Phillip gripe one more time about this flap, I was going to rip it off and throw it overboard.
That thing drove him nuts. Heck, it drove me nuts. I’m one of those that can’t leave a scab or a wayward cuticle alone. If it’s snagging and catching on things, or just bugging me in general, I’m going to pick it until it’s a big, infected bloody mess, but at least the flap is gone! Take that flap! Phillip had to watch me closely during the Keys trip to make sure I wasn’t tempted to rip this obstinate little piece off (because it would have caused the whole cover to unravel and fray). Luckily, I didn’t. This worn, ragged cover made it back home in, well, a couple of worn and ragged pieces, so it was high time we replaced it.
Thankfully, our previous owner, Jack, was meticulous in his care of the boat and he kept all of his receipts, manuals, instructions, etc. While we weren’t surprised to find he kept the receipt from his purchase of the leather cover, we were surprised to find that he had bought it in 1992!
So, that the ratty cover we were cursing had been on the boat for 22 years! TWENTY-TWO?! Do they make anything these days that lasts that long? Other than diesel engines, I can’t think of much. When it came to replacing it, we really had no reason to branch out. We were pleased with the product and it had clearly proven its durability. It was an easy decision. Another Boat Leather steering wheel cover it would be. Tom, with Boat Leather, even had Jack’s old records, so he already knew our wheel size, making the order a snap to refill. Within minutes, our new Boat Leather cover was on its way, along with a detailed instruction guide to show us how to accomplish the specific herringbone stitch needed to secure it around our wheel.
Tom has also published a very helpful video on his website which shows, in real time, his perfected method for installing the wheel cover. Armed with our instructions, the new wheel cover and a thick needle, Phillip and I picked a sunny August day and set to it.
I have to admit, the first final RRRrrrrip! of the old leather cover off of the wheel felt good. “Take that flap!”
Our wheel sure was pretty underneath–all polished and shiny!
We are the original gangstuhs.
We didn’t let her breathe for long, though. The next step was a thin layer of double-sided tape to hold the leather cover in place while you wrap it around the wheel.
(That’s my pretty work face)
The Boat Leather cover comes pre-sized specifically to fit your steering wheel and, you can see here, it has holes pre-punched into the leather to make the stitching easier.
Ahhh … the stitching. That was definitely my favorite part! The taping and wrapping was followed by about three hours of super-fun stitching.
I’m smiling here because I didn’t yet know how much “fun” the stitching was going to be. I felt like Forrest Gump experiencing all the different “directions of rain” in Vietnam. We stitched backwards, sideways, upside down.
It honestly wasn’t too bad, though. A nice sunny day, some good Gordon Lightfoot playing in the background and I could have stitched all day. Before we knew it, we had made it around full-circle and were putting the last stitch in!
And, then she was done!
Wheeeh-whoo! Ain’t she a beaut? One hot afternoon of stitching, and she was on there–a new Boat Leather steering wheel cover, ready to take us cruising another 20 years. The Captain was obviously pleased with my stitchmanship.
“Why thank you ma’am.”
And, the best part? No more flap! Our wheel is now soft and smooth and a true joy to hold. We were so impressed with the product, we knew when we saw Boat Leather listed as one of the exhibitors at the Strictly Sail Miami show this past February, we were going to have to stop by the Boat Leather booth and tell Tom ourselves what an awesome job he has done putting out such a quality boat product for so many years.
Tom was incredibly humble and grateful and asked us only for one small favor in return … a live testimonial from yours truly for his soon to be updated website.
Me?? Have something to SAY about something? Never!
I didn’t hesitate (although perhaps I should have–I could have planned my giddy teenage spiel a little better, but alas … it is done). Tom clicked his phone on video and I took off, talking ninety miles a minute, raving about his twenty-year product, throwing in a blog mention and ending the whole thing with a wicked thumbs up. YEEEAAAH!
Remember when I become famous, you saw it here first …
So, replacing the wheel cover? Done. Next time, we knock off another biggie of our Post-Keys Project list. That’s right followers, it’s time to do some sol(ar) searching. Join us!
Many thanks to the folks who make these posts a little more possible with PATREON.
Waiter No. 1: “Ahhh … Here we are folks, the spicy tuna tartar.”
Phillip [swallowing a bite of his curry]: “No, sorry sir. We’ve got our food already.”
We shrug our shoulders and get back to our plates. Phillip and I are dining at the new Tokyo Blue Asian fusion restaurant a few days into the Strictly Sail Miami show, already well into our third course and beginning the push-back-and-sigh routine. When the first waiter happened by, trying to dump a second entree on us, we thought nothing of it. But, when the second came along, I started to sense a story brewing. While the boats and “sailebrities” and seminars at the Show were all very well and good, as it seems is often the case, adventure tends to find us. During our time in Miami, Phillip and I stumbled upon a number of chance encounters, unlikely occurrences and other note-worthy experiences that I knew you all would enjoy. While they were numerous (believe it or not, I did cull this down), before I left this brightly-lit city to cover our next blog adventure, I had to share the following–some of our more memorable Miami moments. This one I like to call —
Where’s the Beef?
As Waiter No. 1 saunters off in a bit of a perplexed state, Phillip and I continue indulging in our sweet Chilean sea bass skewers, slow-roasted chica duck and an unforgettable Masaman Curry.
It isn’t long before the next server arrives, extending an exquisite looking display of fish towards me.
Waiter No. 2: “Here you are madam, the salmon carpaccio.”
Annie [putting her chopsticks down and wiping her mouth]: “That’s not mine. Sorry.”
Waiter No. 2 [looking confused]: “Isn’t this table 55?”
Annie [looking even more confused]: “Ummm … I couldn’t tell you.”
Having only been open a week or two at the time, we chalk it up to some table numbering kinks Tokyo Blue had yet to work out, shrug it off and get back to our chopping and sticking when a third one comes at us.
Waiter No. 3: “And, here we are folks. The beef tenderloin.”
He sets it down on the table before we can object (assuming we would). It’s a hot juicy slab of filet mignon sizzling on it’s own ceramic, stone coal pit.
Neither Phillip nor I said a word. No, “Sorry sir, that’s not ours,” or “Nope, not here.” It was silence and mesmiry (the Asian fusion version of mesmerize). Phillip didn’t know then–he’ll find out when he reads this–but, I nodded ever-so-slightly at the waiter while Phillip was eyeing that succulent piece of meat. I couldn’t help it. Did you see that sizzling thing? “Mmmh-hmmm” my eyes said. “That’s ours. Leave it.” I figured, twice we’d done the right thing and sent perfectly good food away. Third time’s a charm. The minute Waiter No. 3 pulled his hand away from the stone, Phillip and I both stabbed at the meat and started shoveling mouthfuls of savory red beef in.
It’s ours now. And, it was incredible–both Tokyo Blue and the free beef.
Well, That’s Very Proper of You
Speaking of free food, after our third day at the show, we found ourselves nearing the evening, wandering the docks yet again and poking around all of the fancy boats we couldn’t afford. Inadvertently, we stumbled into the velvet rope cordoned-corner for Leopard Catamarans. Champagne glasses were clinking. Everyone had dainty little plates in their hands heaped with dainty little saucy bites and bits. It looked delicious, and we were hungry. We had no interest in buying a boat at the show, much less buying a catamaran, but that’s the beauty of the boat show–it doesn’t matter! All they want is your name and an email so they can eHound you later and you’re in! “I’ve got plenty of junk emails. You’re welcome to all of them!”
It didn’t take much and we were soon behind the velvet rope, standing in line at the hot bar filling our own little dainty plates with steaming empanadas, croquettes, meat pies, you name it! And, there we were, two stacked plates between us, and a glass and a half of champagne, and guess who we saw standing not five feet away? The one. The only. Nigel Calder. I nudged Phillip hard, pointed in Nigel’s direction and hissed at him, “Look, it’s Mr. Seized-it-up-Solid!” He was right there, eating the free food right along with us. I wanted to find a suitable bush I could nestle in, pick it up and twinkle-toe over so I could spy on him. Phillip had the better idea to actually walk up to the man and talk to him.
Turns out, he was super approachable and easy to talk to. After a few exchanges, Nigel asked Phillip and I what connection we had to Leopard, to which we replied, “None. We just wanted some free food.”
“Well, that’s very proper of you,” Nigel responded in his thick British accent. “Why d’you think I’m here?” he said with a smile and continued nibbling.
Nigel then told us how he and his family, when they were live-aboard, on-the-hook cruisers, would scope out the big boat shows at the marinas and find out when the roped-off sales tents–like the very one we were standing in–would shut down for the day. The whole brood would then plan to motor up in their dinghy about that time and let the good yachties know they were welcome to donate any food that was going to go to the trash to the Calder clan instead. Nigel said they used to rack up on all sorts of free provisions that way.
The man is a total cruiser to the core. Love that guy.
The Lunch Line Nazi
Another fun (not free, but cheap!) food encounter–The Cafeteria. While we certainly enjoyed every meal in Miami, I hate to even think back on some of the pricier ones knowing what each little morsel cost us. But, I am proud to say, one of our favorite dining experiences of the entire trip only put us back $11.94. As I mentioned, the condo we snagged via Airbnb on Biscayne Boulevard offered us an exceptional view of Biscayne Bay and put us right within walking distance of the Strictly Sail show and just about every restaurant and area we wanted to check out.
Often, when we were walking to-and-fro for our morning coffee or dinner or what-not, we would pass by this little corner walk-up-and-order diner called The Cafeteria that usually had a line half-way down the block. The minute their roll-down street bars were raised, folks started to flock. About our third time walking by it, or, more accurately, walking around the line that was flowing out from it, Phillip and I decided we had to eat there just once. We planned it for our last lunch of the trip – Day Five, baby!
We were eyeing the little concession stand-like menu board on the back wall and watching folks as they stepped up, ordered and promptly moved out the way like a factory conveyor belt. You could tell this was a real locals joint. There would be no “dressing on the side,” no “hold the onions on that,” no special orders of any kind. ‘Your way’ was not an option here. The only way you could ‘have it,’ was their way. The beefy lunch-lady looking gal that was running the joint gave me that Soup Nazi vibe.
You walk up. You order a few items from the board. You step to the side. That’s how it was done. Phillip and I planned our attack and, despite a few bobbles with a bit of the Spanish, Phillip did a good job. The lunch-line Nazi seemed to accept our feeble request for some food and we were shuffled along with the rest of the brood to wait for our fried goodness. We ordered a croquette, some type of stuffed yuca roll, an empanada, a beef-filled biscuit thing and a traditional pressed Cuban sandwich. It was all fried or pressed, and it was all delicious.
The croquette, especially. Phillip risked another Nazi attack by getting back in the line to order us up a couple more, but he successfully weathered the storm. Atmosphere, experience and pallet-pleasing combined, The Cafeteria was easily our least expensive, yet one of our favorite meals of the trip.
We Draw the Line at Walgreen’s
So, I don’t go to Miami often. I’ve been maybe three times in all of my adult life. You would think whatever those crazy algorithms credit card companies use to determine which purchases are so uncommon they fall into the category of “suspected fraudulent charges,” would find lavish dinner and drinks in a rare city potentially fall under that purview. Apparently not my credit card company. Lunch at Ceviche 105 off of Biscayne Boulevard? Totally normal for Annie. A big, three-course dinner at Toro Toro in downtown Miami? Happens all the time. Those charges went through just fine. You want to know where they drew the line? Walgreen’s.
I pop over one morning to the Walgreen’s near our condo to pick up some shades and a hat, and the credit card Gods say, “We’ve had it. Enough is enough. We draw the line at Walgreen’s!” Card declined. Makes no sense. But, thankfully I had some dollar bills with me and was able to get my goods and go. The hat was totally worth it.
How the Other Half Lives
Our last night in the lavish, lit-up city we ended up wandering down Biscayne Boulevard toward the new Epic Hotel. The place was a spectacle. High-dollar cars littered the circle drive and mega yachts lined the waterfront access from the Miami River.
I’m sure the “Just J” stands for Jay-Z’s cousin’s or something.
We soon found ourselves sitting at the newly-opened Lilt Lounge in the Hotel craving a few of their signature cocktails. The back-lit tower of colorful liquor selections got patrons in the right “spirits.”
The place was super swank. Excellent jazz vibe, modern decor and a really impressive drink menu. The barkeep was a lot of fun, too. A real soft sell. He let us ease into our chairs and set out some waters while we perused the menu, gently wiping down the bar around us, waiting until we had made the perfect selection. He started chatting us up about where we were from and telling us a little about the hotel. He encouraged us to head up to check out the rooftop pool overlooking the Miami River and the Area 31 restaurant overlooking the pool. It really didn’t take much encouraging. What else were we doing? But, the view topside really knocked our socks off. Let’s just say it was — Epic. Join us, will you, and see how the other half lives …
I guess we got a little delusional in the crisp night air because we sauntered right into Area 31, one of Miami’s premiere ocean-inspired restaurants, like we were some distant relative of Jay Z himself and asked for a table with a view. We were either lucky, or on a slow Sunday night even twice-removed kin make the list, because they sat us and within minutes, Phillip and I were looking out on that gorgeous view from a rose-adorned table for two, settling in for our last swank meal of the trip.
How was the grilled octopus, you ask? Epic, I should say. Every morsel was delicious, and the service was superb. No free beef this time, but we weren’t complaining. We indulged one last time and then decided we were all ‘swanked’ out. It was high time we got this crew home before we could no longer afford a boat!
A breathtaking sunrise stretched over Biscayne Bay as we packed our bags the next morning and got ready to fly back to Pensacola.
In all, we spent five wickedly entertaining days in Miami and thoroughly enjoyed the Strictly Sail Miami show. The wealth of information and contacts we gained made it well worth the trip. We would definitely recommend it for anyone interested in learning more about boats, sailing and cruising or who is or might soon be shopping for a boat. Cruisers form such a small, supportive community, and some of the most knowledgeable in the business are all there at the show, readily available and eager to talk to you about just about anything. Once you’re plugged in, you feel there is always somewhere you can turn for help troubleshooting, plotting different passages, and ideas and solutions for rigging gear on the boat. Speaking of which, while I have had a lot of fun jumping right into this Strictly Sail Show after wrapping the epic Keys diaries, we did make some serious upgrades to the boat this past fall after returning from the Keys that we’ll cover in detail soon. We installed some really cool new boat stuff and took our balsa-cored beauty out to witness some of the most breathtaking sunsets yet. Plenty more in store! Next up, we “Go Green.” Stay tuned!
Many thanks to the folks who make these posts a little more possible with PATREON.
We did!! Sure, the Strictly Sail show is a great place to look at a ton of sailboats, but it’s also a great place to learn a ton about them, too. The Strictly Sail folks bring in speakers from all over the world–real experts in their field when it comes to sailing, cruising and crossing oceans. And, they offered so many different topics! From chartering to boat buying, ocean sailing, engine maintenance, navigation, tropical destinations, you name it. They offered something for every skill level and interest. We only had four days at the show with a half-day committed to a hands-on sail class and, of course, the desire to check out all of the boats and “cool boat stuff” on display. Time was of the essence. We had to be selective!
I felt like Elaine on Seinfeld trying to decide which seminars were really “spongeworthy.”
(And notice I said seminars not speakers – keeping it classy). We had a checklist that we stuck by and tried to coordinate and catch the topics we were really interested in or certain “sailebrities” we knew we just had to see. While we saw plenty of seminars–most were great, although there were a few snoozers (I will not name names)–here are the highlights:
1. Kretschmer‘s “Storm Sailing Strategies”: Ahhh … Mr. Kretschmer … where do I begin? This is a man who has crossed the Atlantic ocean more than 20 times and has taught and trained hundreds of mariners worldwide in hands-on storm tactics, yet he prefers to walk around the dock barefoot and hang with the everyday, no-name sailors. Our primary takeaway from his “Storm Sailing Strategies” seminar? “Forget about the main!” When downwind sailing, drop the main and just throw out the head sail. The main just bangs around shadowing the head sail, often accidentally jibes and basically just drives you crazy. I think it was Al Pacino who said it first, but Kretschmer sealed it for me:
2. Nigel Calder’s “Lessons Learned Along the Way”: Hands-down favorite presentation for us at the show. As I mentioned before, Nigel, being the hyper-technical yet undisputed expert of marine diesel engines and electronics, I expected him to be knowledgeable, yes. But, entertaining? No. Absolutely not. Was he, though? You better believe it. Nigel was surprisingly humble, self-deprecating and willing to re-live any number of his colossal screw-ups with a comedic timing that would knock your socks off. In this presentation “Lessons Learned Along the Way,” Nigel recounted, in vivid detail, not two but the THREE times that he, in the process of changing the oil in an engine, drained the oil from the engine, forgot entirely that he’d drained it (usually because a friend said “hey let’s go get a cold one at the pub”), then cranked the engine (to get to the pub) and promptly “seized it up solid.” Repeat that in a thick, British accent and you’ll come remotely close to understanding how wildly entertaining Nigel Calder was. Our primary takeaway from his presentation?
“If you’re going to seize one up solid, try and be sure it’s not yours.”
Smart man, that Nigel.
3. Lee Chesneau’s “1-2-3 Rule for Hurricane Avoidance”: Smart man, that Lee, too. We caught two of Lee’s weather forecasting seminars and learned a great deal from both of them. I, in particular, learned these are not little haircombs dotting the chart
Rather, they are wind symbols (arrows to be exact), indicating wind direction and speed.
Ahhhh … brilliant! Lee also did an excellent job of explaining the National Weather Service’s 1-2-3 rule for avoiding a hurricane path. If you’re out there, too far from land to get to shore, you can safely maneuver your way out of the path of a hurricane by estimating the “danger area” over a 72-hour period. Using the NWS’s 10-year average track predictions, you can predict the path of a hurricane’s danger zone (meaning the radius where the winds escalate above 35 mph) by projecting its path 100 nautical miles over 24 hours, 200 nm over 48 hours and 300 nm over 72 hours.
Voila! The 1-2-3 rule. Thank you Lee!
While there were plenty of other seminars we thoroughly enjoyed, I’ve tried to not be a snoozer myself by recounting them ALL in excruciating detail here. Pam Wall’s “Do You Want to Go to the Bahamas?” and Woody Henderson’s “Sailing Offshore” presentations, though, do get an honorable mention. In all, the seminars at the Strictly Sail show were well-planned, informative and–once you’d bought your $20 ticket to the show–absolutely free! Always a plus in our book. And, they were very intimate settings (think 20-30 folks, at most, attending, although it was usually 15-20) where you could interact with the speaker, interject and ask questions during the presentation and approach them afterward to ask them pretty much anything you darn-well pleased, which, for me, was … Will you read my book??
I hope I didn’t scare them too badly …
We had checked out a good deal of the boats at the show and heard plenty about them. And, I’ll tell you, one thing walking around a lot of sailboats makes you want to do is — SAIL! Isn’t that the point? We had signed up for a hands-on sailing class out on Biscayne Bay and were really excited to get out there on the water and put some of our newly-acquired sail plans to work.
Hands-On Essential Cruising Skills Class: We headed out Saturday morning (Happy belated V-day followers!) from 9:00 a.m. to 12:00 p.m. for a three-hour hands-on sailing class. The workshops are limited to 6 persons and were $99 a person.
We weren’t sure what to expect, but at $99 for a 3 hour sail around beautiful Biscayne Bay we figured we couldn’t miss. Perhaps he (and, yes, I assumed our instructor would be a “he” – totally misogynistic of me, I know) would spend an hour telling us which lines controlled the main sail and which ones the jib, how to drop the anchor, etc. Really basic stuff. That was definitely a possibility. But, what if he jumped right up and made us put a triple reef in in some heavy winds or … even better – HEAVE-TO!
Heck yeah!
What is “heave-to” you might ask? I once heard a boat instructor say, “It’s not where I heave, and then you heave, too … ha ha, snort,” and I hate to admit I actually chuckled when he said that. Heave-to is actually a critical sail skill for cruisers. It’s basically where you stop the boat (pretty much) in the middle of water so you can get some rest, make some food, hold your ground in a treacherous storm, or worse, turn around to pick up a man who has fallen over-board. For those of you non-sailors (or sailors, but non-heavers!) out there, heaving-to is basically where you leave the sails as is and turn the boat around in the wind to back-wind the jib. See how the Jenny, the head sail, on our boat in this picture is full because the wind is coming across the starboard (right) side of the boat?
If we were to heave-to in this position (i.e., turn to starboard until the wind came around and pushed on the back side of the Jenny), it would look like this:
Notice how the head sail is backwinded. We would then slowly turn the wheel back toward the wind (to port, or the left) until the boat basically parked itself in this position. It’s kind of crazy to think a boat can just stop itself in the middle of the water with sails up and the wind blowing, but it can. I’ve heard many sailors describe it, in rough conditions, as “turning off the sea.” Basically the sails are fighting the keel and rudder and the boat barely moves, usually a knot or less. Imagine if you’re bucking and rolling over monster waves and you can execute this maneuver to safely stop the boat and wait it out? American Sailing Association video on heaving-to HERE.
Knowing how to quickly and effectively heave-to is an incredibly valuable skill and, one that I’m a bit embarrassed to say, Phillip and I had never actually tried on our boat prior to the Strictly Sail show.
I know. We agree. We should have never shoved off for the Keys without trying it at least once during a safe afternoon sail in Pensacola Bay, just so we could be sure we knew how to do it, and how exactly our boat would perform in a hove-to position before we got ourselves out in the middle of the freaking Gulf. But, suffice it to say, we were inspired by what we learned during our hands-on sail class and we have since tried it on our boat in the safety of Pensacola Bay. You’ll also be thrilled to know we (and by “we” I mean “I”) goobered our sails up sufficiently–or as Nigel would say, “seized them up solid”–in the process, with witnesses to boot! Look out for that doozy-of-a-post soon!
We were pleased to find that, in addition to some basic skills, our hands-on sail class also covered docking maneuvers in high winds, storm tactics such as heaving-to, anchoring in rough seas, best practices for picking up and securing to a mooring ball and other skills that were great for Phillip and I to broach for the first time or just brush-up on. It never hurts to practice (or get out on the water for a beautiful day sail!). We got to get out on a Jennau 35, one Cruising World’s Pocket Cruisers of the year (although I have to say, I don’t personally consider a 35″ boat to be a “pocket cruiser” but that’s just me). We had another couple aboard who had done some chartering and were looking to buy a boat soon and a guy who had just bought his first sailboat and was just getting into sailing.
A quick shout-out to our American Sailing Association sailing instructor for the day — Jeff Lewis — who was super knowledgeable but also easy-going, a great teacher and a lot of fun!
So, great edutainment at the Strictly Sail show. We learned a ton, and I hope you have too. Sailing is awesome, intriguing, forever challenging and rewarding. You never stop learning.
Now, on to the COOL BOAT STUFF! There were only like 500 booths (give or take) at the show, each offering some really innovative, helpful and interesting boat products.
Some highlights?
1. Boat Leather: This guy, Tom, has been producing leather boat products for decades. When we bought our boat back in 2013 it had one of his boat leather steering wheel covers on it. Unfortunately, it had a couple of tears and a flap that were driving us crazy, so we started doing some research to replace it. When we flipped through our previous owner, Jack’s, meticulous paperwork (the man kept every receipt – and we’re so grateful!), we found Tom had sold the wheel cover to Jack back in 1992! So, that one piece of leather had lasted on our boat for over twenty years! We reached out to Tom this past summer and bought a new wheel cover from him. His instructional video was very helpful and allowed us to easily stitch the cover on ourselves. Boat Leather is a great product with exceptional service and instruction behind it. Can’t recommend it enough.
2. The Furling Spinnaker (Code Zero): That’s right, it will knock your socks off. Literally, because you no longer need a spinnaker sock! Before the Code Zero, sailors would launch their spinnakers by raising a big “sock” that houses the spinnaker sail, letting it fly freely, and then pulling the sock down to douse the spinnaker when they wanted to drop it.
Not a bad method (and not a bad 80’s one-piece, Trisha), but they have now created a furling spinnaker which is not quite a true spinnaker but close enough and a lot easier to manage. It is asymetrical, called a Code Zero, and it furls, meaning it spins around a stay at the front of the boat like most jibs and stays there. With the Code Zero, your spinnaker can now actually stay out on its own fore-fore stay all the time and you simply unfurl it when you want to fly it, and furl it up when you don’t.
And the crowd goes aaaahhhhhh …. It was probably the most innovative and intriguing item on display at the show. Many of the new boats come with a Code Zero already installed or are rigged with the necessary equipment to easily add one. I’m not saying we’re going to go out and put one on the boat this year, but they’ll definitely make you start thinking you want one. Lugging that huge sail from down below up onto the deck and then raising and lowering the massive sock can often deter sailors from flying a spinnaker when the winds are right for it, and get them into some trouble if they can’t get it down fast enough when the winds have picked up and are too strong for it. Winds can gust up quickly and if the sock jams and you can’t get your spinnaker down fast enough, well …
let’s just say it’s not pretty. The Code Zero definitely got a lot of folks rubbing their chins and thinking twice.
3. Gill Offshore Weather Gear: They are cranking out some pretty flexible, seemingly light-weight, yet high-performance foul weather gear at Gill. They also offered a 15% discount if you purchased at the show. If you recall, we had been sporting the Gorton’s gear that came with our boat (thank you Jack!) for years now.
High fashion.
We are clearly in need of a new (non-circa 1994) foul weather set that actually fits us, so we were seriously considering picking up a pair of the offshore Gill sets at the show.
While we didn’t end up getting them there (thinking it was a little late in the season to be buying foul weather gear), I have to say I was almost swayed by the Gill sales guy who had something super flattering to say no matter what bulky piece of rubber I decided to put on.
“Oh Matthew, stop it!”
Alright, and last but not least. Now that we’ve reached the bottom, let’s talk about the head.
4. The Airhead: This little gem. A composting toilet for the boat.
Think no suction tube, no joker valve, no holding tank, no pump-out, no macerator, no extra thru-hull on your boat … Definitely a lot to think about. The “stuff” drops in and is then contained or composted until you are ready to dump it out. No odor (they claim) and anticipating standard use, the No. 2 bin should only have to be dumped about once a month. Hmmmm … considering the fun we had replacing the suction tube on our boat and every equally exciting head project since then …
we were certainly giving the composting head some serious thought.
So – you learn some stuff, you check out new stuff, you peruse boats, babes and bikinis and you drink a lot of booze. Who’s liking the boat show now? Raise your hands! Next time, we’ll pull back the curtain and give you a glimpse of the “show behind the show”–the food, the restaurants and the chance-sailebrity encounters–before we call it a wrap and get on to the next adventure!
Many thanks to the folks who make these posts a little more possible with PATREON.
So, the thinking is, you go to a sailboat show to, you know, look at sailboats, right? Right! Of course! Now, do you have to necessarily be “shopping”? Heck, no! Looking is just fine. And, we did plenty of it. From the old to the new, the brown water to the blue, they had the whole gambit–tons of used and new, all in one place for (mostly) anyone to step aboard. Let’s go explore, shall we?
There were some pretty amazing boats we set foot on at the show, in a wide range of prices. Think yacht-price-guessing is something y’acht be good at? (Surprisingly, that did not take me long to come up with). Let’s see! How about a good old-fashioned Showcase Showdown! Who’s in?
Well, then, what are you waiting for … COME ON DOWN!!
First up — the GunBoat 55. Named Cruising World’s 2015 Domestic Boat of the Year, this high-performance, world-cruising luxury yacht offers a simplistic, clean, contemporary layout and style with full 360 visibility from the enclosed helm. Carbon fiber rigging and great attention to detailed assembly affords this boat an average 20 knots of speed.
Virtual tour of the boat:
There was a good bit of talk at the boat show about the inaugural run of GunBoat Hull No. 1, the s/v Rainmaker. Sadly, the boat was dismasted by a 70-knot wall of wind south of Cape Hatteras.
Thankfully, the crew were airlifted out safely in a heroic rescue effort by the U.S. Coast Guard, leaving the boat, however, abandoned for salvage recovery. Some pretty dramatic footage here:
It was definitely a sobering report to hear but an exemplary showing of a skillful and successful rescue by the USCG. It definitely gives me comfort knowing that’s the kind of response we would receive if–knock on wood–we ever had to activate the EPIRB. The GunBoat we got to poke through at the show, the Toccata out of Annapolis, was exquisite. Probably a little too contemporary and modern for my taste (I just love the old classic wood designs), but who doesn’t like to travel smoothly at 20 knots?
So, contestants, what’s the Price-is-Right guesstimate on this one? $1 mil. Maybe two?
Wrong! $2.5 mil.
What’s next Bob?
Ahhh … the Knysna. I’m generally not a Cat fan, but this one was wooing me a bit. Or maybe it was the sales pitch. Knysna is a a boutique builder. They work with the owner to develop every step of the design. Everything is fully-customized and unique to the owner. They only build ten boats a year. It is the epitome of collaboration, craftsmanship and creativity.
And, if that’s not enough, they build them in the stunning Knysna Heads Lagoon on the East Coast of South Africa, where they encourage you, after the build is complete, to drop the anchor and stay a few weeks while you test out the systems and learn your boat with the Knysna service team in easy reach and ready to assist with any service need.
Kind of hard to say no to that. When we asked the lovely gal who was showing us around the boat what the “base price” was, her response was “Eight-ninety.” Phillip and I acted like we’d heard this a million times. “Ahhh, yes,” we said, shaking our heads decisively. But, as we walked away, we looked at each other stumped and asked the obvious question — Did she mean $890,000 or $8.9 million. Which is it contestants?
Bid carefully … Aha! $890,000 it is!
Not a bad deal, really, for a custom-built South African beauty. Let’s see another, Bob!
This was a favorite of ours. The Amel 55. Phillip got to step aboard an Amel years ago when he was cruising with some friends down in the Grenadines and he immediately fell in love, proclaiming it the most “well-thought out, intuitive boat he had ever set foot on.” I thought it was awesome because it is the same boat our Delos buddies have cruised all over the southern hemisphere.
And, I use the term “buddies” loosely. They don’t really yet know I exist, but they will soon! LOOKOUT!! Get a virtual tour of their Amel here:
If you haven’t yet been struck by the revelation that is Delos, I encourage–nay I urge!–you to check them out, donate to watch their awesome travel log videos (it’s like a buck, the best one you will spend this year I promise) and send Delos some love!
The Amel at the boat show did not disappoint. Of all the boats we set foot on, this was definitely the classiest broad!
So, Showcasers, what are we thinking for this 2015 beaut? Another lucky $890? A smooth $1 mil.
Guess again! Only $1.5 mil and this baby is yours! Who’s cutting a check?
While there were so, SOOO many more boats we looked at, I’ve got be selective (or you’ll likely fall asleep). One other honorable mention in the ‘spensive category was the 75’ Little Harbor. While the layout was impressive (I lost count of the rooms and beds at like 8),
what really caught our eye was the massive engine room. More like an engine suite really …
There she is, do you dare to enter?
And, don’t you just love the engine names? We’ve got Lucille on starboard and Roxanne on port. That way you know exactly which of these white beasts to curse when she totally flakes on you (because you know she’s gonna – women always do at some point). My money’s on Roxy. She sounds temperamental.
What’s this? A room within the engine room?
A look back.
Also, a little reminder of the spacious engine room on the Niagara 35 might help give you a little perspective here.
Ahhh … roomy. So, the Little Harbor could be yours! You want all 75 feet of her? Well, break out another mil. This beauty goes for a sweet $1.1 million. Pocket change! At this rate, the only boat we were going to be able to buy at the boat show would be this inflatable number:
“We’ll take it!”
While we did check out some of the more affordable production line boats, Benneteau, Jenneau, Hunters and the like, all I can say is they just weren’t too picture-worthy in our opinion. Some of the headliners and paneling would actually indent and pop back out, audibly, when you pushed on them. The build quality made it feel like you’d stepped into a Jim Walter model home that floated. When we saw one model (I won’t name names) that boasted a built-in hook on either side of the vberth cabin for “crew” to hang their roll-aboard suitcases … I just shut down. Not only do we frown upon the bringing of a roll-aboard on the s/v Plaintiff’s Rest, if you happen to commit this fatal faux pas, we certainly don’t have a hook you can hang it on once it’s aboard.
“Permission to come aboard?” Uhhhh … NO!
We’re not blue-water snobs or anything, but that was just laughable. One glimmering hope, though, was the Marlow-Hunter. I will say Marlow has really stepped up expectations in the production department and the build quality. The 31-footer is a pretty well-built vessel for $116k. In all, a look at the new 30′-42′ cruising monohulls only confirmed our rock-solid belief that our 1985 Niagara 35′ is not only an incredibly well-built, capable world cruiser, it is the perfect boat for us. They just don’t make them like they used to. We love you old gal!
But, boy, looking at all those boats was sure exhausting, and dehydrating! Are you thirsty yet? We were! It was high time for some booze, the price for which, in Miami, can sometimes knock your socks off. The cost of the drinks was almost as shocking as the cost of the boats. So, let’s have a little more Showcase Showdown fun, shall we?
What do you think the going rate is for one of these numbers–a pisco sour and a jalapeno-infused Peruvian pisco fuego drink at Ceviche 105?
$20.00
‘Scuse me?? For both. $10.00 a piece. Not bad that far South. Let’s try another.
How about these light-up, two-foot tall tall mojitos at the Mojito Bar in Bayfront?
Those look fun. Do they? They’re $22.00, in the souvenir glass. And, yes, that’s $22 a piece. Holy …
If you want to go a little cheaper, try the beer and the coconut mojito, in them regular glasses and save yourself $13 a drink.
Ouch … You broke yet? Boats and booze alike, were any of you right on the money? Well, what do we have for them Bob? Ahhh … looks like we’re giving away a free ticket to view next week’s post – the “Edutainment” portion of the Strictly Sail show. Congratulations, and thanks for playing!
“Hi, Bob … pardon me. I’m sorry to interrupt, but, hi. Bob. It’s Annie. I’m Annie. I’m a huge, huge fan … ”
I’m pretty sure it sounded about that timid and giddy. I mean it was Bob Bitchin, THE Bob Bitchin–right there in the very darn coffee shop where Phillip and I were having our first caffeinated sip before the big boat show! I had it all planned in my mind that I was going to meet him at the big Cruising Outpostparty on Saturday and this early, unplanned coffee shop encounter was totally throwing me. But, Phillip, as he often does because he knows it’s best for me, threw me to the wolves, and I’m so glad he did. I was thrilled to find Bob actually remembered me from our meager email exchanges about my first article that he published and my desire to self-publish a sailing book. I extended a shaky hand with my Salt of a Sailor book in it and tripped on words like “honored, privileged and inspired” trying somehow to convey the message that I hoped Bob would read it, enjoy it and let me know what he thought. For all I know, though, I could have been speaking German. I can’t remember a single English sentiment that I conveyed before I thanked him, giggled again and started tripping my way back to Phillip in a total sweaty mess. But, I had done it! Met Bob Bitchin, gave him the book and said something that (I believe) resembled praise. There. Done.
Just as my blood pressure finally started to subside and I could once again taste my coffee, Bob came back over. Oh boy … He was super generous, though, telling me he had flipped through my book and that he liked the interior formatting and the photos. He gave me some advice on some additional publishing mumbo jumbo that I should include at the beginning next time and gave me some recommendations on ordering author copies for resale. He was so generous with his time and insight. I sat starry-eyed and spoke some more German. It wasn’t until we were actually at the boat show and I had gathered my wits about me that I finally saw fit to ask him for a photo so I could share it on the blog. There you have it. The giddy German gal and the man himself – Bob Bitchin!
“I hope you enjoy the book, Bob!”
This was my first and certainly most memorable “sail-ebrity” sighting during our Strictly Sail trip but there were many more. I thought, before we get into all the boats, booze, sailing and “edutainment” seminars, I could help set the stage for you by introducing you to Have Wind Will Travel’s version of the Strictly Sail Miami’s cast and crew:
THE CAST (Sailebrities) — These are the big dogs of sailing, the cruisers that you read and read about, the ones that have crossed oceans, circumnavigated, been sailing for decades and talking about and presenting on it even longer. The great thing about the Strictly Sail show is that they’re no longer icons in print, they’re right there, standing not five feet from you. They’re approachable, friendly and seemingly just as eager to meet you as you are them (or at least they pretend really well). Phillip and I were super impressed with the intimacy of the seminars at the show and the opportunities it allowed us to meet and chat with some of our favorite sailebrities:
Bob Bitchin — I’m sure I’ve said enough about him already. Hell, he’s probably cringing and ducking his head by now as many times as I’ve “gone giddy” over him on the blog. But, just to add a little background, I picked up one of his books, Starboard Attitude, the first day at the show (and made him sign it for me – of course!), started flipping through it and was astounded to read the man’s bio. He spent 28 years ripping across the U.S. on a motorcycle (certainly explains the Harley shirts and tats) and even served as a bodyguard and roustabout for Evil Knievel back in the 70’s. I don’t even know what a “roustabout” is, but I want to be one! Before he even thought about cruising, he produced one of the largest cycle shows on the West Coast, CycleExpo, as well as published multiple biking and tattoo magazines. He then … oh hell, I’ll just let you read it. If you can dream it up, Bob’s done it:
John Kretschmer — This man, the sailor who has crossed the Atlantic ocean more than 20 times, the one who stopped counting his nautical miles when he reached 300,000, was the most humble, self-deprecating, genuine person I might venture to say I have ever met. He performs professional yacht deliveries around the world and takes eager crew members and captains out on training passage across some pretty harrowing waterways. You can sign up to crew a passage with John via his website, although I believe he’s booked well into 2016. (The man is popular). His seminars were also engaging and authentic. To be honest, for me, crossing an ocean was a bit further down the list (well after spending a year in the Bahamas, cruising the Carribean and what not), but after hearing John speak about it, I started to see it in an entirely new light. John was an inspiring and entertaining speaker and, we heard from several independent sources at the show, an exceptional writer. Phillip and I bought his Sailing a Serious Oceanbook at the seminar (and made him sign it – of course!) and we can’t wait to give it a read. At the Mercy of the Sea will be next on our list. When I got all giddy and told John about my own book, he laughed and said he “loved reading stuff like that” and “couldn’t wait to check it out.” Even if it was just a line, I ate it right up. John was such a pleasure to meet.
2. Pam Wall — Pam served as West Marine’s Cruising Consultant for over twenty years. She has sailed more nautical miles in the Bahamas than loaves of bread have been baked in the U.S. in 2015 (check that fact), and she has helped thousands of cruisers out there every step of the way. Her passion for cruising and the adventure and cultural education it offers is clear from the minute she starts speaking about it. Her bit on the black squalls that cruisers often face when crossing over to the Bahamas really stuck with me. “Respect the weather, watch the skies, but don’t curse a valuable asset,” Pam said. “Prepare for the passing storm, let the boat and crew enjoy a refreshing ‘Mother Nature shower’ and fill the water tanks. Squalls can be a good thing.” Pam writes an insightful and informative blog on her website — www.pamwall.com — and will tell any cruiser who is passing through Ft. Lauderdale to make contact and “take her out to lunch!”
3. Nigel Calder — I have to say Mr. Calder was the biggest surprise for me. He is like “THE” expert on diesel engine maintenance and boat electronics. I remember trying (sorry, Nigel, it’s not you, it’s me) to read his Mechanical and Electrical Manual well before Phillip and I even found our boat and while it was incredibly informative and detailed, it was also super technical. Nigel is an obvious engine and electronics guru. So, I figured he would, obviously, be a stuffy professor type, sporting an accent and a monocle. Well … let’s say I was right about the accent, but wrong about everything else. Nigel’s presentation “Lessons Learned Along the Way,” which I will cover later (that, and the chance encounter with him in the Leopard Tent, many a-Nigel story to come) was Phillip and I’s agreed favorite of the whole show. Nigel was a riot.
4. Lee Chesneau — The Weather Man. When it comes to pressure systems, wind patterns, and hurricane prediction, Lee is your guy. Lee is a senior marine meteorologist who boasts a distinguished and extensive career with the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA’s) National Weather Service (NWS). Lee gives weather presentations all over the nation and hosts educational weather forecasting seminars for commercial vessel captains on a global scale. He’s also a hoot, with these awesome lopsided glasses he sports during his seminars. Very high fashion. Lee has a real talent for “dumbing down the weather” in a way that enables everyday cruisers to watch weather patterns and make safe predictions for passage. I’ll lay out his helpful 1-2-3 rule for tropical storm and hurricane monitoring in our upcoming “Edutainment” portion (I know you’re excited), which we found very helpful. Lee maintains an extensive and informative website on marine weather forecasting where you can also contact him to request weather predictions.
Woody Henderson — This man-boy has seemingly done it all, solo-circumnavigated, wrote for Latitudes & Attitudes (you may recall “Woody’s World”) for thirteen years, and helped form Adventure Voyaging, where he and Tonia Aebia, the youngest sailor ever to circumnavigate, now plan and lead multi-boat sailing adventures to exotic locations all over the world — Tonga to Croatia, The Grenadines, Thailand, you name it. He has cruised and taught cruisers for decades but, by the looks of it, my guess is he started doing all of that at the ripe age of ten. I think he was also on the cover of BOP and Tiger Beat when I was still cutting those up and hanging them on my bedroom walls.
His boyish good looks aside, Woody was an incredibly warm and endearing speaker with a wealth of information to offer. He is a sharp captain, experienced cruiser and capable voyage leader.
THE CREW — While the sailebrities were very exciting, I have to say, the real entertainment were the folks we encountered walking around the boat show. While there is a whole cast of them, here are some honorable mentions:
The Yacht Models — These men are pretty. They like to walk around the boat show in pristine, pressed sweaters, either pulled tightly around their chiseled frames or draped delicately over their shoulders and in a neat tied knot.
“Yes, Eduardo, I’ll take my brandy out here on the lido deck, please.”
The Drink Service Gals — A real classy bunch, and apparently hearty too. They wear these skimpy crotch shorts and wedge heels in any kind of weather!
“Another round, sir?”
The Money Suits — It seemed if you wanted to really catch a boat broker’s eye, you walked up to the yacht covered head-to-toe in a white linen suit, with a vivacious broad on your arm (the majority of which typically sported a wildly unnatural hair color and some form of pleather, snakeskin apparel). A toy dog in an shoulder bag was optional but also common. Show up looking like this and they knew you were serious about signing papers today.
However, there was another kind of “power suit” in play–certainly not linen and I think he was more in the business of selling, as opposed to buying.
The Wanna-Bes — Watch out for these guys. They’ll act like they’re interested in your big, fancy, production-line boat as they kick off their shoes and step aboard, but they really want to look at the Clorox-build quality and snicker because they know their older, well-crafted 80’s model could run circles around her.
“Uhhh, yes, thanks for letting us have a look. She’s beautiful. We’ll be in touch.” (NOT!)
Although, I will say I think we were a bit more “kind of are” as opposed to “wanna be” that night because Phillip’s shoulder-sweater-swagger got us escorted into a super swanky exclusive affair. We headed to the Design District for dinner that evening and while we were walking the streets, checking out all of the construction and renovation that’s going on down there, we passed by this sea of snarly socialites.
The woman were all perched on six-inch stilettos, at least, clad in super-tight cocktail numbers with their hair slicked back in high fashion pony tails. The men were donning very high-end blazers and trendy horn-rimmed glasses, and they were servers milling around in tuxedos offering sparkling trays of drinks and little fru-fru hors d’oeuvres. There was a live band with a buttery-voiced female lead crooning in the corner, sculpted art rising up out of the ground and a cacophony of clinging champagne flutes and high falsetto laughter. Ha ha ha. It was quite the haughty affair. Being the curious, roustabout cruisers we are, Phillip and I were just poking around, taking it all in, when a snippy woman confronted us with a clipboard, a visible stance blocking our entry and a prompt, “Name please, sir?”
Phillip and I looked at each casually, shrugged our shoulders as if the whole thing didn’t matter and Phillip said, “We were just going to have a look around.”
The woman dropped her head down, squinted at Phillip over the rims of her naughty librarian glasses for a long minute and finally said, “Welcome then,” as she swept the clipboard behind her back and stepped aside, extending one arm to invite us in. I think she might have mistaken Phillip for this man.
Common mistake.
With his convenient look-alike status, Phillip and I stepped into this elegant, high societal gathering and pretended like we were the most important people there.
An Italian-accented lad in a tuxedo came up with a dazzling tray of drinks and offered me a brandy cocktail and Phillip a sparkling flute of prosecco. We cheersed each other, laughing at the irony of it all, “If only they knew,” and infiltrated the crowd.
Having finished our first sparkling round rather quickly, I was about to summon the nice Italian boy over for another when Phillip stopped me. He was looking at a flyer that was sitting on one of the tables. Turns out the “haughty affair” was a fundraiser, with “suggested” donation amounts starting at one thousand and escalating to TEN. My eyes just about popped out of my head. “$10,000?!” We’re cruisers. The only thing in our world worthy of a $10,000 donation is our boat, parts for our boat, or work that needs to be done our boat.
“We need to go,” Phillip said easing me back behind the pillars. We left our empty flutes by the empty donation placard on the table and slipped out the back before they could trap us. That was about to be the most expensive drink we’d ever had. It was fun to flirt with well-to-dos, though, if only for a bit. Our first day at the boat show certainly introduced us to an interesting array of characters that we would meet, gawk at and interact with over the course of the next few days. Now that you have a good flavor of the cast and crew, it’s high time we raised the curtain on this Strictly Sail Miami show. Next time these “wannabes” will take you along as they set foot on many a boat they cannot afford — Cruising World’s Boat of the Year, the GunBoat 55, an exquisite Amel 55 (think s/v Delos), an Oyster, Hylas, Knysna and more. Stay tuned!
I know, a blog post in real time? Modern day 2015? This is crazy! But, it was all too exciting to let simmer on the back burner. While we embarked on plenty of adventures, excursions and (always) more boat projects since our return from the Keys in May of 2014, honestly, they can wait. From the moment we docked back in May, the next big “sail trip” on the horizon was, for us, the Strictly Sail Miami show in February.
Their unbiased sponsor, Flo, claims, “It’s the sailing event of the season!”
Strictly Sail puts on shows in various cities–Chicago, California, etc.–every year and we had been trying to make it to one for a while. When the show in Miami came up, we booked it months in advance and started scraping our pennies so we could afford, you know, like three drinks in Miami. The show would also be a great opportunity to check out the latest technologies and developments in boat design, sail accessories, electronics and hardware, as well as attend seminars and hands-on sail classes taught by some of the sailing world’s well-versed and renowned experts–Nigel Calder, Jimmy Cornell, John Kretschmer and the like–real, live sailebrities, if you will. *sigh*
I also had another more personal goal in mind. I had been mulling over the idea of polishing and cobbling together a few of my early blog posts into a book for quite some time (I know–surprise, surprise). But, when the time came to get serious about it, I reached out to the man who published my very first sail story for some guidance. You may recall this notorious character —
Bob Bitchin, self-proclaimed “Editor-at-Large” of Cruising Outpost. Bob has written and published a number of books himself over the course of his colorful career, so I figured he could give me some words of wisdom when it came to publishing my own. Bob’s recommendation on publishing? “Self-publish,” he said. “It’s the best way to go.” Self-publish, I thought with a huff. Who’s going to buy my hand-made, self-printed drivel?But, I pondered it for just a bit before I promptly decided to take his bitchin advice and do it! Then I got real bold and told Bob I’d bring him a first edition, signed copy at the Miami show! *gulp* Now I had a real deadline, but an incredibly motivating goal.
Luckily, I busted my arse, finished Salt of a Sailor in record time and packed the very first hard copy with me on the flight to Miami. My plan was to corner Bob at the famous Cruising Outpost Party he hosts every year at the show. I planned to gently saunter up to him at the party, introduce myself in person, book in hand, and thank him for all of his help. Or, if that didn’t work, spring out from behind a port-a-potty if need be and hold him down until he took the book from me and promised to read it cover to cover. Either way, I was excited about the Bob encounter.
The book all printed and packed, Phillip and I hustled ourselves to the airport to get on a big jet airliner to Miami the day before the Strictly Sail show began.
Who’s excited??
Another really cool part about this trip was that it was our first time to try out this fancy new vacay rental website called Airbnb. Don’t know if you’ve heard of it, but it’s a fantastic concept. Anyone, anywhere in the world can list their property (be it their whole house, apartment or studio) or just one room (the guest bedroom, the garage, whatever) on the Airbnb website for rental by total strangers (aka … us!). We had poked around on the site weeks before the trip and found a one-bedroom condo that looked like it was just a few blocks from the Strictly Sail show, which meant we could walk everywhere – no car rental! Even after taxes and the Airbnb service charge, it was still cheaper than any hotel in the area. Thank you Airbnb! We hopped on the Metrorail (a whopping $2.25 a piece to get from the airport to our condo) and headed downtown.
And, when we got to the condo, the Vizcayne on Biscayne Blvd, we were thrilled to find it was literally right across the street from the show!
We could literally throw a stone at the Strictly Sail tent from the front door of our condo building! (That is, if we were inclined to throw stones at it … we opted for embarrassing selfies instead!)
And, the condo? Let’s just say we had a bitchin view!
And, you might think it would be hard to really kick back and get comfortable in someone else’s place? Trust me, it’s not.
But, we didn’t stay at the condo long. We were ready to get out and explore and dig into some authentic Miami cuisine. Our trusted rigger back home, Rick Zern with Zern Rigging, had recommended an upscale Peruvian restaurant near the marina, which turned out to be about a half block from our condo. I’m telling you – location, location, location. So, we went to check it out–CVI.che 105. And, I’ve had some really great ceviche before, I’m definitely a fan, but every time I’ve had it, it’s always been a mix of tiny little diced up pieces that look a lot like pico de gallo. Something like this —
Peruvian ceviche, however? Looks like this!
Huge chunks of shrimp, octopus, fresh fish, calamari, mussels, etc. They’re tart but tender. And, it comes on a bed of fried corn (which adds great texture), these sweet, plump hominy-looking kernels and sweet potato. Yes, sweet potato. I would have never thought to throw in some sweet potato with ceviche, but trust me, the Peruvians know how to do it. We also tried their grilled octopus with chimichurri and creamy pepper sauce,
and Phillip ordered the braised beef and beans, both of which were incredibly flavorful.
Then we were miserable. Pretty much, anyway. That was a lot of food. Way more than we needed at the time, so we knew next time, to order one entree and split there, but it was absolutely divine–best ceviche I have ever had, hands down. Stuffed to the gills, we decided to go poking around the marina, get a little preview of the boats and decide which ones we wanted to check out first tomorrow.
“Uhhh, yes, I’m looking to upgrade my Niagara 35 to a 74″ Catamaran.”
Not really. We would never! We love our Niagara! But, that’s what we were planning to tell the brokers so they would let us on these big, buoyant monsters just for a look-see. There were soooo many floating mansions to see! We spent a couple of hours poking around the boats and the big tent, planning our attack for the next day and eventually worked our appetites back up. (It really doesn’t take much with us, though). After some thorough Trip Advisor scouring, Phillip had rooted out this little place called Toro Toro for us to check out. The bar at Toro Toro was THE happening place in Miami–a modern, swanky atmosphere, finely crafted cocktails and all walks of elegant Miami life.
We also got incredibly lucky to get in without a reservation (because the place was booked solid the rest of the time we were in Miami) but after a quick sip at the bar, they called us right back. From the moment we sat down, everyone in the place stopped by to check on us–make sure we had menus, our candle was lit, had the sommelier come by yet? The service was phenomenal. And, the food? So good I forgot to take pictures. That is … until the highlight. Their La Bomba dessert. I’m not sure you can handle this.
Three scoops of vanilla bean and strawberry ice cream, fresh fruit and cookie crumble, complete with an edible flower garnish, are brought to the table in a sculpted chocolate shell bowl.
The server lays down a clean piece of plastic on the table and then … CRACK! He drops the bowl onto the table where it shatters into a beautiful, melted chocolate dream. Slow-churned caramel is then drizzled over the top, almost like a painting.
It was a true culinary experience.
That, sadly, among these two ravenous travelers, didn’t last long!
We sauntered home with visions of caramel drizzle and chocolate shards dancing in our head. The Strictly Sail show hadn’t even begun yet and we had already sunk our teeth deep into the adventure. Despite the full bellies and travel fatigue, we found it a bit difficult to lull ourselves into a deep sleep that night. Perhaps it was the newness of the place, but I suspect it was the excitement of the day to come–the boats we would explore, the fellow cruisers we were going to meet, the sailebrities!
Phillip and I both rustled to before the sun rose the next morning and started checking the seminar schedule and readying the backpack for the day. This was it! The Strictly Sail Miami show! We stopped in at a little coffee shop at the YVE hotel across from the show, where many Strictly Sail folks were staying, ordered up a couple of lattes to sip on before the show and settled in at a window seat. I was perfectly content, sipping my latte, munching some granola, with a lovely view out of the cafe window. Phillip, however, had a different view. He spotted him first. Over my shoulder. Sitting there, drinking coffee, eating a bagel, like a totally normal person, not five feet from us. The man himself … BOB BITCHIN.
I immediately started sweating, fidgeting with my hair, biting my nails, glancing over my shoulder. It was really him! Phillip and I debated it a bit. Should I bust up on him, now, all starry-eyed and stammering, book-in-hand or wait until the Cruising Outpost party on Saturday? Would it irritate him if I interrupted his breakfast? What if he held up his hand to cut me off and just said, “Sweetheart, talk to my people?” I had no idea what this man would do! I was all hot and clammy and nervous, but ready to get it over with. Phillip pulled the copy of my Salt book I had signed for Bob out of the backpack, handed it to me and told me to go for it …
There she is! My first (but certainly not my last) real, live published book about sailing.
Available in hard copy on Amazon HERE or Kindle HERE.
I can’t believe it was only two meager years ago, in February of 2013, that I first set foot on a sailboat and headed out for My First Sail. Now, here we are, February, 2015, and not only have Phillip and I found the pretty-much-perfect boat for us, but we sailed it all the way down to the Keys and back. While we have closed the chapter on our first Keys trip, we still have many adventures, boat projects, refits, upgrades and future trips planned to share with you. This blog has served as such a source of inspiration, support and motivation for me. Having followers like you thank me for giving them the opportunity to live vicariously has encouraged me to keep traveling, keep collecting stories and keep pursuing this challenging but rewarding craft of writing.
If you have found yourself, even just once, chuckling to yourself while reading this blog (because, let’s face it, in truth, LOL’ing is really quite rare), I, without any hesitation, guarantee you will enjoy this book. It’s not a shameless plug if it’s an accurate one. While the blog is a great platform for me to recount our numerous tall (and small) tales, it doesn’t allow me to tell you the full story, with all the necessary details and smells (those are important) that will really put you there, on that salty, swaying boat with us. You may recall parts of the main story–our first harrowing passage across the Gulf of Mexico in the boat–but you didn’t get the critical back stories–the tobacco wad and the maxi pad, the piss and the pom-poms, the Malt-o-Meal in New Mexico, not to mention Runt and the sunken truck. My God! You need these to truly understand what it feels like to be out there and what it takes to make a sailor truly “salty.” Many a fine book began as merely a fine blog, so you might have seen this coming. But, I guess you can say, in that regard, that I’ve been sweating and laboring over this for years and I hope it shows. If you’re inclined, don’t wait. Buy it. Read it. If you like it, write a review and tell others whom you think would enjoy it to pick up a copy, too. Know that I’m thrilled you enjoyed it, grateful and humbled by your support and that I’m working hard writing the next one for you.
While I still have the stage (I know, I know – thank your parents, your spouse, the Almighty and get off – I’ll be quick, I promise), a big thanks to fellow Amazon publisher and author of many a-riveting sail tale, Ed Robinson, for giving my book an early review, offering some critical editorial insights and providing an endorsement for the back cover:
“If you’re thinking about buying your first sailboat and making it your own, you need to read this refreshingly honest tale.”
I highly recommend Ed’s “Poop” book, along with a roll of toilet paper to dab at the laugh-till-you-cry tears. Much gratitude to loyal follower, Casey, as well for the thorough manuscript scouring and insightful edits. And, finally a heartfelt thanks to Amazon for giving budding little doe-eyed authors like myself the opportunity to self-publish. Anyone can write anything and put it out there for anyone in the world to read. What a fantastic concept.
Without further adieu–imagine this with some great Hollywood score playing in the background and dramatic, captivating sail footage, like a kickass movie trailer …
“Had I ever sailed? No. Did I think that mattered? No. I had endured enough uncomfortable and arguably dire situations that I felt I had whatever grit and guile I needed to handle this silly sailing stuff. I parachuted with a sheet, drove a car that started with a screwdriver, swished with hydrogen peroxide. I rode horses, climbed rocks, leapt off cliffs. I spent summers in the sleeper of a big rig. I ate Malt-o-Meal. Surely these were excellent traits of a sailor. Surely I was salty enough. I fancied I was. Either way, we were going to find out. The time to go was now. All we needed was a boat.”
So, this sailing stuff? Nothing to it, right? It’s just ropes (which we call “lines”) that control sails which make the boat move. That’s pretty basic. But, then, there’s also the engine, the batteries, the thru-hulls and sea cocks, the water tanks and pressure systems, the propane and solenoid, the steering wheel and rudder, not to mention all of the instruments, gauges and meters.
Okay, maybe it can get a little complicated, but the good news is, when you get down to it, most of those complicated-sounding systems really are basic when you take the time to dissect and understand them. Meaning, most of them can be fixed on the fly, as long as you have the right parts, or parts that “will do” (we call this improvising).
During our trip to the Keys, we found most of the “issues” that occurred on the boat were operator error (sorry boat!) and most were fairly easy to fix once we figured out what had gone wrong. We chalked these up to “lessons learned” and felt it may help other cruisers out there to pass them along.
1. The Lazy Jack Snap! Before the trip, we had a new stack pack put on for the main sail with a new set of lazy jacks attached to the spreaders to hold it up.
The lines also cleated off at the boom, and our riggers had left some surplus in the lazy jack lines in case we needed to loosen them for any reason. Good idea, we thought … at the time. But, when the time came where loosening the lazy jacks would have actually been a good idea, thinking about the tension in the lazy jacks was one of the last things we were doing. Unfortunately, during our first night offshore, when we were heading from Pensacola to Port St. Joe, we ran into some rough seas–winds in the high teens and rolling five-foot seas all night long. Water was crashing over the bow, spraying us in the cockpit and the boat was beating into a steady southeast wind. The sails were taut, full to the brim all night long, likely pressing hard on the new lazy jack lines, but we didn’t know it. We heard plenty of cracks and bangs during the overnight passage, but it’s hard to tell–in the dark of night– if the sound you heard was just a normal ‘boat groan’ or something actually breaking. You handle the boat the best you can and try not to worry about her too much (key word being ‘try‘). But, sometimes you wake to find, in the rough winds of the night, that something did actually break. For us, it was the lazy jack on the starboard side.
Kind of a bummer. But, we figured they must call it a “lazy” jack for a reason, right? It must be the lazy way. Surely people have been raising and lowering their sails for centuries without these “lazy lines” to help. I mean, you have to ask yourself–What Would Columbus Do? (Back in 1492). He’d flank that sail the old-fashioned way, and keep on a-keepin’ on. So, that’s what we did. Until we got a little lazy …
Next leg of the trip, Phillip had the great idea to re-raise our busted lazy jack line with the topping lift for the spinnaker pole.
You see? Improvising. Once you know how the systems work, you can then use them in all the wrong ways to achieve whatever result you’d like. It’s a product liability defense lawyer’s dream! So, what did we learn? Be sure to check the tension in your lazy jack lines when your sails are full. If they’re too tight, the wind in the main can bust the line. And, if something breaks, don’t mourn. Look around! You may find something else on the boat that can serve its purpose.
2. A Spun-Out Jenny Much like the suicidal strung-out version in Forrest Gump,
just outside of Tamp Bay, we found our Jenny, too, was busted. During a fairly mundane furling of the Jenny, you might recall the pop we heard, followed by a clattering rainfall of ball bearings on the deck. Sadly, the spinning halyard for our Jenny broke in two while we were cranking her in. One half remained at the top of the mast, and the other came barreling down the forestay, flogging our Jenny and letting her pile down in a useless heap on the foredeck.
DOH!
Why did this happen? After some serious research, troubleshooting and second opinions, we decided it was caused by pulling the halyard up too tight at the mast, causing the shackle to pull into the throat at the mast and putting tension on the bottom top part of the halyard, which should be allowed to spin freely. A thorough review of the manual for the furling system was quite helpful in this regard (as most manuals are). I’ve said it plenty of times but have no qualms repeating it. Keep all manuals in a single, organized location and refer to them often. It’s amazing what you can learn from … I don’t know … the folks who built and designed whatever Godforsaken contraption you are cursing at the moment. We had dropped our Jenny prior to the trip to have the UV cover re-(re-)stitched and figured we must have pulled the halyard just a tad too high when we raised the Jenny back up.
Back then, we were also furling our Jenny in using the large winches in the cockpit. It was easier that way, but it was also deceiving because the winch is so powerful. If there is an inordinate amount of tension in the line, pulling by hand you’re going to feel it. Pulling by winch, you may not, and you’ll power right through it, likely breaking something in the process. I think there’s some appropriate saying I could insert here about a cannon and a mosquito. However, I believe a more vivid example (sorry Confucius) would be a surgeon who operates not with his hands but with a remote-operated backhoe. Are you going to let him in your abdomen? There is simply no substitute for the human touch. How does it feel? How hard is it to pull? Conway Twitty would agree. Don’t be shy. Sing it with me! “I want a man with the slooow hands … “
Luckily, we were able to get the Jenny repaired in St. Pete by a talented and resourceful rigger, who ended up having the exact halyard we needed (which had been discontinued) in his self-proclaimed “Sanford & Son boat part yard” (a.k.a. his shop). And, what did we learn? Don’t tighten the Jenny halyard too much. Refer to your manuals. And, when feasible, opt for the “slow hand” over the powerful pull.
3. Never Let Go of the Halyard! Have I said that one before, too? Then why the hell do we keep letting go of it? I’m not sure exactly. All I can say is when you’re up on the deck, riding your boat-of-a-bull as it’s bucking over waves and focusing all of your mental energy on the simple task of staying on the boat, you just kind of forget about that little thing that’s in your hand–the all-important halyard. I guess think of it like this–have you ever accidentally poured a glass of something on yourself when you turned your hand to look at your watch? Why did you do that? (Because you’re brilliant like me, of course!) And, also, because your brain just kind of forgot you had a glass in your hand. Well, same thing can happen with the halyard. When it comes to you grabbing something to keep your scrawny arse on the boat in the middle of pounding seas, your brain just kind of checks out of the whole halyard-holding process and forgets about it. And, then … You let go! Of the halyard! And, the minute you do and see that halyard start swinging around, you curse yourself! Stupid brain! Why did you let go of that?! It just happens. All told, we’ve done it four times, three of which required Little Miss First Mate to ascend the mast to retrieve it:
Once in Carrabelle (when we first dropped the Jenny to re-stitch the UV cover and pulled the halyard back up afterward, thinking it would magically drop back down when we needed it to–turns out we were wrong). Up you go, Annie.
Once in St. Pete (when the Jenny halyard busted, it left half of a mangled halyard at the top of the mast, which again would not magically come down with a little (or lot of) shaking). Up you go, Annie.
Once mid-sea, on our way into Clearwater when we accidentally let go of the main halyard while trying to raise the sail at night and it snaked its way all the way up the backstay to the top of the mast. Up you go, Annie.
And, the fourth time? Well, that retrieval was more of a fall than a climb, but I did get it back! Unfortunately, I busted the lazy jack line on the port-side (and a bit of my arm and knee) in the process.
Moral of that story? Never let go of the halyard. But, if you do, don’t be a hero trying to retrieve it. I guess the best advice would be to not do dumb things. But, we are human, and I am a blonde, so … it’s just going to happen. To lessen the frequency, we did come up with a better main halyard-rigging system in which we never un-clip the halyard from the main sail. We just re-route it down and back up to maintain the tension when the sail is down.
And, thanks to the Captain’s spiffy fix of the lazy jack line on the starboard side, we knew just how to fix the one I’d busted on port. This time with the halyard for the spinnaker.
Although I will say we were running out of spare lines to use to hold up our lazy jacks. It’s a good thing we were headed home by then.
4. Book Swap Mojo. One final lesson–not so much related to rigging as reading–but just as valuable. The Book Swap Mojo phenomenon. If you uncover a great book at one of the free marina book swaps,
be sure to give it back to another free marina book swap down the line when you finish reading it. If not, the Book Swap Gods will learn of your insidious hoarding and leave you with wretched book crumbs like this at every marina book swap to come.
Read it. Enjoy it. Then give it back.
While we learned plenty of lessons on the trip, these were just a few that stood out for us, particularly because of the valuable insight they provided in terms of rigging and equipment failure, and how to (try to) avoid them, overcome them, or improvise around them if we, or other sailors, found ourselves in the same predicament in the future. But, the biggest lesson learned? Mishaps are just going to happen. No matter how cautious you are. No matter how much care you take to try to prevent against them. Things are going to break. Things will have to be repaired. Things are going to slow you down and hold you back. So, what do you do? Keep sailing, of course. Keep getting out there and bumping into things.
And, in my case, keep writing about them. You never know when you might just have enough colorful tales and Conway Twitty bits to cobble them all into, I don’t know, say–a BOOK. One that might be coming out real soon. Big things are happening over here, followers. Be excited …
