Hunky-Dory in Pictures

Written and Published by: Robert & Joan Webb

220 Ibis Lane Goose Creek, SC 29445

(843) 764-3280 Website: www.motivation-tools.com

April 2009 Edition

© Copyrighted 2009

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Hunky-Dory in Panama Part 1

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The Dream, Design and Construction

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The Dream From the time I was a teenager, I wanted to sail the South Pacific

Ocean in my own sail boat. The dream came true during my mid 50s. During the waiting years I associated with cruising people. Because

of this association my dream was able to stay alive. Panama is the crossroads of the world because it is the most

convenient method to move a vessel from one ocean to the other. At the yacht clubs I was able to meet all types of cruising people and observe their boats. My conclusion: In the tropics, fiberglass boats cooks the occupants, there is little resistance to radiant heat. When it rains, all hatches and ports are closed, the cabin becomes a steam bath. Some fiberglass boats skin is so thin the sides are concave between the frames when they reach Panama. It is obvious some boats were never intended for ocean cruising. When repair parts are needed they must be ordered from the factory. I met one yachtsman who waited eight months for parts from Germany.

For many yachtsman arriving in Panama, this is their first ocean voyage. Some people with racing boats head back home. The stubborn one’s push on to Tahiti, then give up and go home. The reason: A racing boat is extremely difficult to handle in rough seas. Because of the fin keel they turn on a dime and one large wave against the bow will through the boat off course. In heavy seas the crew must take care of the boat. The opposite is true in a well designed cruising boat, because of the full length keel the boat takes care of the crew. In high winds the boat is hove-to and the crew goes below and rides it out.

A well designed yacht is easy to steer, that is, stay on course with little effort. In cruising yachts, two-thirds of the boat’s weight should be aft of center. This controls or prevents the effect of yawing, allowing the rudder to maintain control of steerage. Some manufactures try to maximize interior space. The results, when anchors and line are loaded the boat is bow heavy. The rudder is not in full control steering becomes almost impossible.

Most people want windward sailing ability. For this, comfort is sacrificed. Windward yachts require tall mast, deep narrow keels, and

narrow hull. This is a formula for extreme healing in heavy winds and small cabin space. Reaching and down wind boats are just the opposite, short mast, shallow full length keel, and wide hull. The boat sails comparatively flat and there is plenty of cabin space.

My experience as captain of the Canal Zone’s 55-foot training schooner Chief Aptakisic became a source of traditional seamanship knowledge. The hull was Ferro-cement but the rigging was traditional. The advantages; low initial cost, low maintenance, repair parts are universal and available at any major seaport. The feature I liked best was the wide deck around the cabin. For traditional rigging to look right the boat must be designed for it. For looks, fiberglass boats must use modern rigging. Designing The Hunky-Dory

I first built a 17-foot dory named Mistress, 1/3 my dream boat. This helped me understand pro and cons of dory design. After trial runs in stormy seas, I designed the 50-foot Hunky-Dory to achieve my cruising dream. The basic design was based on the St. Pierre Dory. Its graceful lines catches everyone attention.

Hard chine boats are easy to built. The down side is they are not efficient in beating to windward. The flat bottom of the dory makes it impossible. In V bottom boats, the water is pushed to one side, reducing the resistance to head seas. A flat bottom boat is stopped by the waves. The water piles up under it and has no efficient place to go. In following seas the effects are just the opposite, waves push the hull increasing its speed.

Three-foot wide deck around the cabin makes topside activities a pleasure. At the bow, I built a small cabin over the forecastle (fo’c’sle) where sails and ground tackle are stored.

Tiller steering allows for a wide variety of self-steering options. I added a trim tab aft of the rudder. The trim tab steered the rudder while the rudder steered the boat. This allows the use of small boat auto steering systems. I also had a rig that allowed the sails to steer the rudder.

Traditional rigging is in harmony with dory the designs. Gaff rigs

gives lots of sail area while keeping the mast short. Short mast reduces the strain on the rigging, which reduces hardware failures. Mast is wood with mast hoops. Block and tackle replaces winches. Traditional rigging is easy to maintain with standard hardware.

I gave up windward ability for comfort and ease of handling. Our destination would be down wind, sailing with the trade winds. The boat would be self-steering, it would take care of the crew during heavy weather, have plenty of ventilation during heavy rains, and use an outboard engine in a well for auxiliary power.

Keeping engine fumes out of the well was a challenge. Constructing the Hunky-Dory

For construction, the boat was designed so I could build it by myself after work, using lumber and hardware that was available from lumber yards in Panama. Steam bending of planks was out of the question. My average workday on the boat was two to three hours.

The boat was drawn full size on the floor where the boat was built. Measurements were taken and a table of offsets was created. On a layout table, the frames were drawn full size. The wood frames were cut and assembled to this drawing.

A construction frame was built to hold and a-line the boat frames. It was also designed to facilitate the ability to roll the boat out of the building.

Galvanized fittings were used throughout the boat. They are a fraction of the cost of stainless steel. The life span is the same as wood. Stainless life span is almost forever.

The frames were made of tropical hard wood. For side planking, I used two layers of 3/4 thick boards. The first layer was tropical hard wood. The second was pine with one edge cut at a 10 degree angle for caulking. The bottom was three layers of 3/4 inch pine, glued and fastened to each other. (Dimensions are actual size.) The keel was built up with 2x8 pine boards, glued and fastened with lag bolts.

The decks and cabin were pine, covered with canvas, painted with white exterior latex paint. Trim was brown exterior latex paint. Fine sand was added for a non skid surface where needed. For endurance, I could not tell the difference between marine paint and exterior latex

paint. The downside of latex is that it fades more than marine quality paint. With white, you cannot tell the difference. I used no varnish topside, because maintenance is a continuous time consuming job.

I made drawings of the interior, but the finished design was very different. As worked progressed, a better way of doing things presented itself.

The sails were made by Lee Sails in Hong Kong.

Sailing The Hunky-Dory At sea, my wife and I found Hunky-Dory a pleasure to sail. We set

it on course and read or any other activity we choose. In extremely heavy winds, there was no problem sailing under bare polls or hove-to. At anchor, Hunky-Dory was also a pleasure. There was plenty of room below and we carried a 14-foot john boat with a 5 HP outboard motor for shore travel. Maneuvering Hunky-Dory in the harbor was another story. We barely had enough power to stay in the channel, very often, the wind wanted to take control.

Joan and I cruised alone. Hunky-Dory steered itself. At night we would get up once in a while and check the course and go back to bed. Most of our cruising was outside the shipping lanes, no one else was out there. Joan read a lot, I had a computer where I worked on programming. Photos

The photos on this project were taken with snapshot cameras. Joan mounted the prints in an album. Years later, I scanned the prints to get a digital copy. To enhance the poor quality, I used a photo paint program that gave them an artistic look. They are not as sharp as photos, but they are much more pleasing to look at than the scanned copies.

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by Oleta Tinnin

Robert L. Webb, a maintenance scheduler at Gatun Locks, has an affinity for sea craft, exploration, and adventure. Throughout his adult life, the combination -has led him to engage in unusual exploits, the latest of which is a shipbuilding venture. Construction is taking place at the Mindi Hobby Shop, where stalls are available for rental as work and storage space for U.S. military and Panama Canal Commission personnel.

Mr. Webb is building a dory, a flat-bottomed boat with high flaring sides, a sharp bow, and a deep V-shaped transom. The dory will be 50 feet long, which so far as he knows, will be the largest one ever attempted. He and his wife Joan plan to name it the Hunky-Dory, and to "sail out on the Pacific" when he retires. In the meantime, they will use it to explore local waterways.

The word "dory" is a derivate of "dori," a term used by the Miskito people of Nicaragua and .Honduras to mean dugout. Historically, dories have been carried on large commercial fishing vessels for use by individual fishermen. The French have built St. Pierre Dories as large as 35 feet long, with cabins that give the craft the appearance of houseboats. .Mr. Webb says he has always wanted a boat he could live on while exploring the South Pacific, and that the high cost of buying such a craft made him decide to build his own. He chose to build along the lines of the St. Pierre Dory because 44it is easy to build, and the available facilities and necessary tools and equipment all seemed to go together."

Before beginning the Hunky-Dory, Mr. Webb

designed and built a 17-foot dory as a practice model. The smaller boat, named the Mistress, has an outboard motor and is intended for use in lakes and rivers. It took only 3 months to build, whereas Mr. Webb expects the Hunky-Dory to take several years.

The Hunky-Dory has a frame of bitter cedar to which a pine planking exterior is being added. After 11/ 2 years of planning and work, the structure has begun to look like a boat. After the sides are completed, Mr. Webb plans to move the dory outside during the dry season, complete the hull, and then turn the boat over in order to add the cabin.

As for expertise, he says he is picking it up as he goes along. What he knows about boat building he has learned from books, many of which can be found in his personal collection on dories. "I wish you could see our library," his wife Joan laughs. Because wood is sometimes purchased 44green" and will shrink during the drying process, Mr. Webb has built an 440ven" for drying the wood before he uses it. The oven is a long, wooden, cabinet-like structure with a small heater inside; it takes about a week to dry a supply of wood.

Boats are built from a table of offsets, or specifications, says Mr. Webb. In order to work out the offset table, Mr. Webb made a full scale drawing of the Hunky- Dory on the concrete floor of the building area, a process called "lofting."

He speculates' that the reason dories have been kept down to the 35:.foot size is that a larger-size boat would have a weaker frame and be more easily broken up in the water. Therefore, he has made the bottom of his dory 21/ 2 inches

thick. He has also layered the frame and outside body planks in three separate directions to give additional support to the completed structure. The wood is protected by a wood preservative, then covered with epoxy and painted.

When completed, the dory will have a ketch rig comprised of a gaff mainsail with a mizzen sail aft. The cabin will be 21 feet long and 10 feet wide, including a galley, a dinette table with benches on two sides, a "head," and two bunks—one single and one double. The aft deck will be a sort of patio and, Mr. Webb grinned, "the swimming pool will surround the boat."

According to Mr. Webb, one never knows what might come up in the process of building a boat. One problem that has surfaced recently concerns the wood for the hull He's finding that ,the thick lumber he's using there doesn't bend easily along the contours of the boat.

Another problem, and perhaps a more serious one, is that he may have to give up his building area before the boat reaches a seaworthy condition. If this happens, he will be in trouble, because the dory is too large to be transported along the highway. However, Mr. Webb is optimistic and says he feels this problem can be worked out.

When asked about maintenance once the boat has been launched, Mr. Webb aid that boat maintenance is an ongoing responsibility. "If the boat is properly built and ventilated," he says, "maintenance work is considerably easier." Nevertheless, the hull must be scraped and repaired approximately every 6 months in the tropics to get rid of barnacles that slow down speed and efficiency.

Mr. Webb is building the dory by himself, although Mrs. Webb helps out with the drawing and figuring, and she lends moral support by sitting with him while she does her knitting and crocheting. Their 15-year-old daughter Karen comes around to check on the boat, but doesn't actually get involved in the building. "She'll enjoy going out on it when it’s completed,” says Mrs. Webb.

In no hurry to finish the dory so long as he can be assured of a place in which to finish it. Mr. Webb is enjoying the work and the education that is going along with it. He says he can retire next year, but probably won't because he and his family "love it in Panama.”

The fact that Mr. Webb has reached retirement status with the Canal organization is something of a story in itself. Stranded in Panama by a lack of funds, he came into service in 1962 as a temporary employee during a locks overhaul. Having sailed from Hawaii to the continental United States on a 36-foot sailboat, he was on the way to Brazil, where he planned to sail down the Amazon River. The ill-fated trip down the Amazon, taken 9 months later, was never completed, but his subsequent exploits more than made up for it. In 1970, Mr. Webb sailed from Panama to Hawaii in a dugout canoe named the Liki Tiki Too with only a kitten for crew, and in 1975, he made a motorcycle trip across the Darien Gap.

In between his adventures, Mr. Webb continues his employment on the Panama Canal, which he considers to be an adventure in itself.

World's largest known dory is being built by Locks employee Reprint from “The Panama Canal Spillway, July 30, 1982”

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The Rollover and Hull Completion

The Rollover The hull was built upside down inside a building. I put rollers under it to roll it out

of the building. Once outside, a crane lifted it and carried it to a parking lot where it was rolled over. Then it was carried back behind the shop to finish construction.

Deck and Cabin Up until now, I was working on it by myself. Tobe came by and said he was a

carpenter and asked for a job. On his first assignment I asked him to make a small floorboard in the bow section. It was all angles and only an experienced carpenter could get it right. By the end of the day he had a perfectly fitting floorboard. He said it took him all day. I told him hot to worry about that, you can do the work and was hired.

Keel The keel and inside ballast used 5,000 pounds of lead. I used plywood for the molds

and poured them under the boat with keel bolts in the lead. When set, I jacked them into place.

Mast I was concerned about mast weight causing extensive rolling. The first was round

and hollow. It was too weak and came crashing down to the deck in light winds. The next was solid with a hole up the center for wires. There was no problem with this design.

Interior Joan turned the cold shell into a home.

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Interior by Joan

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Launch and Sailing Launch

A crane carried Hunky-Dory 500-feet to the water. Fire trucks and tugboats were on hand to celebrate the event. In the water, the boat settled to the designed water line. The outboard in the well had some fume problems.

Sailing For the next two years we sailed Hunky-Dory in Panama waters. There was some

construction problems. During this time they were corrected.

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FROM JOAN’S LOGS OF THE HUNKY-DORY [Author's note: When I starting these logs, I waited until evening to record all the things that happened that day. Later, when I got my "sea legs," I would go below from time to time and write a phrase, sentence or paragraph as the events occurred. In the morning, I added anything of interest that happened before daylight, then I began the current day's events. Many of the entries are short, cryptic phrases; others are comprised of several paragraphs. Many times I "waxed poetic" or just reflected or agonized about an event or feeling. The following is the way it happened, sometimes as it happened. At first I tried to type the log at the end of the day or as events occurred. That became a problem, so I began writing my log by hand--pencil on lined notebook paper--and then transcribing it to print when time permitted. After a while, that too became a problem. When we purchased a laptop computer, the problem seemed to be solved. But that wasn't to be. I couldn't wait to boot up a computer every time I wanted to make an entry. Besides, Bob had taken over the contraption and was using it every chance he got. When I did get to use his "toy," it was usually to word-process letters and to make better copies of the stories I wrote under weigh. I finally resigned myself to the fact that my log would be an endless pile of three-ring pages to be contained in a seemingly endless series of numbered binders. After we became permanent landlubbers, the notebooks sat in the shed gathering dust. With nothing to do, Bob began transcribing the logs of his pre-marriage trips onto the hard disk and suggested I do the same. Several years passed before I began the laborious process. Teaching, crafts and other distractions interfered and created interruptions that lasted more than a year in some cases. Finally, during the summer of 2001, I completed the task. Editing my typos was another matter, as well as making needed additions, etc. Bob made a template to record his own log entries as an addition to my log. His entries are the "technical" statistics, etc., that he entered in his "official" log of our trip. His is the "meat and potatoes" of our journey; mine is the vegetables, the seasonings, the desserts.

In my logs, I spent lots of time detailing our meals, which added variety to our days at sea or ashore. I also detailed the crafts I did, the books I read, and the stories I wrote. One needs a diversion while at sea, otherwise one could get bored out of his mind. I began recording the books I read in my log, later transferring them to a small "copy book" we bought along the way. I got into such a habit of using the copy book, that I still record my books. I kept copies of the detailed letters I wrote along the way and have added them to the log. All was not "hunky-dory" aboard the Hunky-Dory. Living in such close proximity for three years can take a toll on any couple and it did, but we survived even that. In fact, I feel it made our marriage stronger. Living aboard was something I learned to love and loved to hate. I had a fantastic time but I would never do it again. Joan]

Panama March 29, 1988, to June 22, 1988

March 29, 1988, 1550 We ate dinner at the club. Now we're spending a quiet evening

relaxing on the boat until we sail tomorrow, hopefully. Lots of boats are leaving tomorrow morning. The Bynums and a few others are going for San Andreas. The people eating next to us are transiting soon. The Black Stallion is leaving for San Blas. We still don’t know if we are even going sailing or not. The winds have been so strong lately. Today they died down with the cloudy day. Now that it is clearing, the winds have picked up. Can’t win them all!

Bob says that even if the winds are strong, we will go somewhere, even if it is only to anchor somewhere inside the harbor. Otherwise, we could do one of two things: sail twelve hours this way and twelve hours that way and check the SatNav for “drag”; or go to Porto Bello and anchor for a while. I’m game for either way. We have plenty of food, clothing, water, fuel, etc. We can go out for several days. I brought enough things to do: cookbook, crafts, book. Bob has charts for anyplace we decide to go. We won’t have to worry about the winds, that’s for sure! The only trouble is that it may be blowing from the wrong direction.

Bob wants to go for a walk. A large schooner just came in, and I

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think he wants to go have a look, even in the dark. It looked quite a bit like ours when she went by, but it was dark, and it was hard to tell. So, signing off for now. See you next time. March 30-31, 1988, 1220

At anchor at Porto Bello. Resting, eating, drinking, swimming, reading, sewing, trying to get back to normal after a rather harrowing experience sailing the past two days.

Left the dock at 0810 on Wednesday, March 30. A squall sprang up just before we left the harbor, so we anchored for an hour and a half and waited out the squall. Then we raised sail and left at 1100 after some hot chocolate and blueberry muffins. That was all I would eat until 0900 Thursday. The sea was rough with the wind out of north. We thought it would be an easy run to Porto Bello. Just as we entered the refinery channel, we decided to go out to sea for twelve hours and return after midnight and spend the next day in Porto Bello. What a bad decision that was!

The seas got rougher, and the winds were fierce. We sailed on and on until about 2200. Both of us had been hanging over the side and couldn’t hold anything down. I had spent most of the time in the bunk watching from my prone position. The boat swung up and down and side to side so much that I could see the ocean through the head port while I was lying in the bunk. The banging was so loud that I was sure the bow would splinter. I managed to make it to the head from time to time (about every two hours), but Bob had to flush for me.

At 2200, he decided to turn the boat around and head back to Porto Bello, expecting to be there a few hours after daybreak. After spending at least an hour in the head, I tried to join him in coming about. It was scary, waves splashing over the side, water rushing by us at breakneck speed, wind howling. I had him wear a life jacket when he went forward. We finally came about with some assist from the engine. But once about, the engine drove us faster, and I couldn’t let go of the tiller. The decks were so slick from the extra coat of paint Bob put on this week that it was hard to get a good footing even with boat shoes. I slid across the cockpit, slipping my knee against the opposite seat and getting a nasty bruise.

After that was done, Bob went below, and I stayed on deck. It was

cool, and it felt good after sitting and lying in my bunk below. Not fifteen minutes after Bob went below to get some rest, I heard a tearing above me, and suddenly the mizzen mast splintered and came down all around me. I yelled to Bob for help, and he managed to get the pieces aboard while I tried to handle the boat, but the main jibed. It was slow enough for us to realize that the mizzen had thrown the main downwind, and we managed to get it back with undamaged.

The mizzen was so rotten it had split like matchsticks. We cut the canopy away. We had not been using the mizzen except for support for the canopy (since we knew the mizzen was in bad shape), so we didn’t have any sail on her when we fell. The mizzen sail was still in its cover. We lost the radio antenna, though. We still haven’t taken the parts off to see what damage there actually was. We’ll do that soon. With the mizzen aboard, Bob again went below, and I stayed on deck, checking the compass and looking warily at the main. But that was holding, so I went below as well.

At daybreak, Bob went topside and sailed to within a few hundred yards of Porto Bello before getting me up to handle the tiller. We arrived with no problems. The Singers were anchored next to us. Soon we will have to tell them about our mizzen. I’m sure they are wondering as they look over at our boat. It’s nice to be still for a while. I can sew, cook, type, eat and drink again. I’m hoping this won’t be the story for our trip to the states this summer. But Bob says it will be. Oh, joy!

By the way, after dropping anchor here, I noticed some flying fish on the cabin top--dead, of course. It was quite a night! April 1, 1988, 1710.

At anchor in Porto Bello. Let’s see now. What happened after I last wrote? We stayed at anchor all day, swam, wrote, read, sewed, and figured our course for the past twenty-four hours. It seems we only went four knots. I was sure we were going faster. We went about one hundred miles in our out-and-back trip, and that wind sure was howling. Oh, well.

While at anchor, we visited the Singer’s boat. I couldn’t get on yesterday and had to stay in the Hunky-Dory for a few minutes. The Singers then came to visit us after we cleaned up the mast things and got the pieces read to throw overboard in the evening. The only thing that

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was missing was the antenna for the radio. The only damage to the boat was a nick in the railing where the mast fell. We disconnected all the halyards and got them ready for the next mast which is almost finished. We stowed away the lines and the sail. It took all of about one hour to square things away. We’re getting to be old hands at this. I hope we don’t get another opportunity. Bob says that eventually we will have to get a tree for each mast, but that will come later.

For dinner we had macaroni and cheese and string beans. This morning I made some English muffins, and we had them after lunch. We can use them for lunch tomorrow and breakfast. I saved the water from draining the macaroni and the beans and had hot water for washing the dishes. It worked out very well. When Chris came aboard after dinner, she had more good suggestions:

1. Never fill your water tank at any port, just top it off. That way you don’t get a full tank of bad water.

2. Put fire extinguishers at exits within handy reach and check them once a year. The Singers have had a bad fire on their boat and know.

3. Use Joy for dishwashing as well as cleaning the boat, washing clothes, hair bodies, etc. It will suds in salt water.

4. Wash dishes and everything in salt water and rinse in fresh. Dishes can be rinsed in salt water and dried right away.

We spent some time yesterday and today watching Charlie pull the kids around on a surfboard behind his dinghy. This morning, we took the dink out to the fort and climbed to the very top. It was hard work and really wore us out. Then we went for a swim around the boat, washed out the dink and rested before lunch. At three, we took the dink out of the entrance and to False White Beach, which is just around the entrance. The beach was nice and sandy, not like Porto Bello’s rocks. People were picnicking there and snorkeling. The water was shallow so we would never be able to bring the H-D, and we even had to be careful with the dink because of coral around and below the surface. It was a beautiful cove, and we made up our minds that we would snorkel there some day.

Bob also made up his mind that he would resign around the end of May and use the two weeks in June to get ready for our trip. Things are really moving fast now.

We’ll leave for home some time tomorrow morning around 0800. This will be the last trip we make before our long voyage in June. Well, time to quit for now. April 2, 1998, 1200

At dock in Cristobal. Left Porto Bello at 0730 and had smooth run to Cristobal. Seas high but not too rough. Sailed with main and first jib (now called #3). Hot, but nice day. Singers left soon after us and came in soon after. They sailed way out, the way Bob told them he was going but changed his mind. We docked by ourselves again and had less trouble than the last time. Bob bought some ice, and we had cokes to cool us down. It sure felt nice. Now we have to get cleaned up and go home. I have a load of laundry for Leonora, including bedding and towels. Lots of dirty clothes, too.

So, what did I think of this trip? Well, parts I would never want to duplicate and parts were great. I guess I like sitting at anchor and at the dock best or at sea sailing when it is very smooth. I’ll just have to get used to the rest of the adventure. It will be coming up very soon. Bob will be stepping the new mast soon; then there are a lot of piddling things to do like making sure the doors in the closets don’t open when we don’t want them to, making a shelf for my sewing machine, etc. I have to make my own list of wants before Bob thinks he has done all he has to do. I want a dish and silverware rack, too.

Some day I will get used to sailing and love it, as Chris says. I will jump from boat to dock, swing aboard boats anchored near us, climb the mast, raise the main, hoist anchor, and lots of things. I feel like a klutz sometimes and don’t seem to be able to do anything about it. I will some day be devil-may-care, but it will take a lot of doing before I come that far. Until then, it’s trial and error and practice, practice, practice.

One thing is for use, I have an excellent teacher who is so sure of himself, even if he really isn’t, he seems to be and that is what counts. He is patient, even if he tries not to be, especially with me, and that is also what counts. I need all the patience I can get if I am going to be a sailor. It definitely is not in my make-up and will have to learned over a period of time. And time is what I have lots of, so here goes! April 4, 1998, 1700

From my conversation with Bob last night when I admitted having

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to overcome my fear of sailing, these insights were discovered: OCEAN CRUISING IS:

a means to an end, not the end in itself something to be enduring not enjoyed a way of getting to a place you want to visit an unpleasant way to travel an adventure you relish when you relate it after the fact mostly uncomfortable with few redeeming qualities something to overcome and be proud of the fact that you

survived not popular because of all the drawbacks an accomplishment full of obstacles that must be met and dealt with to prevent

disaster frightening quite a bit of the time entering a world where you have little control a lot like sitting in your house for a month of more something to say you did

I guess I want more. I want to enjoy the trip as much as the destination. I want to do more than “function.” I want to write and sew and read and cook and learn and take pictures and dream. Bob thinks I am expecting too much, and perhaps I am.

So far, it HAS been quite a bit like those insights. The only really pleasant time for me have been at anchor or during calmer sailing days when I could relax and enjoy the wildlife.

Being the type of person who enjoys the simpler things in life--staying home, curling up with a good book, enjoying an afternoon of sewing, baking bread--rather than nightlife and lots of company, I think I wouldn’t mind the “loneliness” and being “cooped up.” It’s the OTHER words that now charge around in my mind: "endure, uncomfortable, unpleasant, seasickness, functioning." It certainly isn’t the most encouraging thing to think about, is it?

Well, if nothing else, it IS food for thought; Don’t expect too much. Be prepared for a struggle. You’ll be glad when it’s over. It’s the feeling of accomplishment you get when you’ve safely made it to port with your boat in tact.

May 8, 1988 Yesterday we sold quite a bit of excess furniture, promised a guy

our air conditioners the day before we pack out and almost sold our red car. It had been hectic around here, with getting ready to move, adding things to the boat, selling unwanted items, and working full time.

Our big white cat, Windy, is back! The lady, Laura Bilgray, who took him lives in Panama City. During the riots, she couldn’t get home for three weeks and had to stay with a friend. (Seems Noriega has a girlfriend in the same area and the people were protesting HIM.) The caretaker of the condo where she lived had to check on Windy every day, and she didn’t think it was fair to him. When she could get back home, she decided she wanted to move to a better, safer location, and she can’t take him. So she gave me the choice of either taking him back or she would take him to the vet, and you know what they do after three days, so I asked her to give him back. Now we’re stuck with the big oaf (all 23 pounds!), and it looks like he’s going to be a boat cat whether he likes it or not. We’re trying to get him used to the boat when it’s at the dock and so we take him out there whenever we work and let him wander around. He doesn’t seem to mind anymore and has already picked some favorite spots. So he’ll be coming to the states with us this summer. Maybe we can find a home for him there before we leave. The Caribbean islands are “friendly” to pets, but there are very strict rules about animals on board when you’re in the Pacific. They get quarantined and yachts are not permitted to stay very long. Lady, on the other hand, will be leaving us on the 20th of this month. Janet, one of the teachers at school, is looking forward to taking her new Persian. Lady hasn’t said how she feels..

Bob has been busy working on the boat. There are new shelves, a hand pump for the bilge (in case we lose power and have to pump), and he is mounting foot pumps in the galley and head for the same reason. I have added carpeting throughout the boat (except the galley because of spills), altered the awnings and am making “hanging lockers” for some of our clothes. I’ve also been provisioning for the trip with food, etc., and our basement looks like a grocery store. When Bob officially retires at the end of this month, he plans to work on the boat full time until we leave. The last day of school for teachers is June 16; we are pack out on the 21st, and we leave on the 22nd. Our APO box will be effective until

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June 17th. We’ve decided to store our things with PanCanal down here, as we

get two years of free storage. After that, we can decide where we want them to send it. We’re shipping our Ramcharger to the states so we’ll have transportation when we get to Annapolis. The Army will deliver it to Norfolk, so it won’t be too big a problem picking it up. We’ll sell it before we leave to come back down here on our way to the Pacific. Retirement checks will be sent directly to our credit union in Arlington. We have a mail forwarding service ready to accept our mail after June 1st and to send it to us when we give them the word. So many odds and ends to deal with when you move! May 31, 1988

Well, Bob’s last day of work was today, and now he is officially retired from the Panama Canal Company. They gave him a farewell at work and presented him with a wooden ship’s wheel complete with a brass plaque engraved with his name, the company name, and the date of retirement. We’ll mount it in the boat somewhere. His secretary gave him a gift, too. Amelia was also his secretary at the locks.

Last week we did a lot of work on the boat. Bob finished attaching the foot pump in the galley and head. I now have a shelf in the galley with storage areas for dishes, stainless, etc. Monday we did some shopping on the Pacific side: navigation charts and pilot guides, “milk” crates for food storage, another boat hook, etc. Tomorrow, Bob is hauling the boat out of the water for a final check, scrape and paint. When he puts it back into the water, we’ll begin stocking it with the things we’ve gathered. Right now, all of those things are piled in the basement or on my pantry shelves.

Our plans haven’t changed. School is over on June 15 for the kids; June 16 for me. The inspector comes here on June 17 to check out the house. The packers come in on June 21. We’ll leave no later than June 25 and head for Jamaica for R & R, rest and refuel. Then on to Bermuda for another R & R. Next stop will probably be Wilmington, Delaware, and then on to Annapolis.

I’ve either sold or “promised” most of the furniture I wanted to get rid of. A GI is interested in our Ford and will discuss the details with Bob on Wednesday. Small things will be disposed of at our patio sale on

June 11. The rest will be stored here free of charge for two years. We’ll decide what to do with it after that.

Things are speeding up, and I hope I’m ready when the big day arrives. Right now I’m a mixture of emotions. I’m excited about the trip and looking forward to a new adventure. At the same time I’m petrified. But from what I’ve learned, a little apprehension is good for you. It keeps you from getting careless. The ocean is something to be respected, not taken for granted. I’m sure I’ll become more attuned to its moods when I’m totally at its mercy. And being aboard a small sailing craft will definitely put me there.

Bob knows how to SCUBA. He took lessons a while back and also knows “hard hat diving” because he used to work as a diver for the locks. I never took lessons, although I wanted to. We could never have a compressor on board because of all the electricity needed, so he just suggested that we get snorkeling gear instead. We could use it for checking the bottom of the boat when it’s in the water, since the draft is only four feet.

The SatNav only receives signals from satellites, it doesn’t send them. Probably the only way to keep track of our trip from space is to get those pictures from spy satellites.

We’ll take very good care of ourselves and not try anything dangerous. If we find that our plans aren’t working sailing wise, we’ll change them. Right now the winds are just right for our trip. I hope they stay that way for another couple of weeks. If it looks too dangerous, we’ll stop somewhere and rethink everything. If necessary, we could always leave the boat at a yacht harbor and fly up to the states for a visit. Bob isn’t one for taking chances and sometimes I think he plays it more on the safe side because I’m with him. He’s outgrown his dare devil days, but he still loves the challenge of it all. While he has mellowed, I’ve gotten my taste of adventure and found that I can conquer my fear, somewhat. As Churchill (Roosevelt?) said, “We have nothing to fear but fear itself.” It sounds weird but it’s true. You can will yourself not to be afraid, or at least to function while scared out of your wits. The cross-stitch picture I made a few years ago says “Boating is hours of pleasure interrupted by moments of sheer panic.” That’s about right!

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Monday, June 20, 1988. Well, I finally have everything put away on the boat. The place was

a real mess for quite a while, and things didn’t go in the places I thought they would, but I found places for everything. Bob is home getting things ready, like the sewing machine and taking down the antenna, etc. The big problem is that everything heavy seems to be going on the starboard side, and we already have a two degree list. We’ll use the water in the starboard tank first. But, the worst tasting water is in the port side. Can’t win them all. Maybe I’ll drink warm sodas and juices instead and use sea water for cooking. The water in the port tank can be used for final rinses for dishes, washing clothes, and bathing.

Windy has moved aboard and seems to be adjusting, even if it has only been four hours. I don’t know how he’ll like being alone on the boat all day tomorrow when the packers come. Maybe I’ll ask Carmen to look in on him from time to time.

Karen and Greg are more excited than I am about the trip. Right now I’m just plain tired. I could use a hot soak in a tub, if we had one. I had to settle for a shower at the yacht club. I’m a yachty now, live aboard and all. I’m breaking ties that bind me to the shore, little by little. Tomorrow the furniture goes into storage. The next day the car gets shipped. Probably the trip to the states will be an anticlimax after all the planning and hard work of getting a boat ready for sea. Time will tell.

Mom isn’t very excited, or she doesn’t sound that way over the phone. I get the feeling that she thinks we’ll change our minds and just move to the states. Bob’s mom doesn’t seem to have any opinions one way or the other. She’s too excited about joining her sister Marion in South Dakota. Carol is excited about the trip. I can’t tell how her boys feel. Wilson is just glad we’re getting out of the political situation here.

Bob is all relaxed and looking forward to the trip. He never seems to get up tight about anything, but then he’s done sailing trips before. It’s nice to have a cool hand at the tiller.

Well, time to start a good book and wait for Bob. Then get dinner out of our vast stores of food. I really went overboard with shopping, but once I got started, I couldn’t stop. Like an addiction. Closing now. See you soon.

June 22, 1988, 1410 Today we broke with the last link to land: our car. We drove it to

the Pacific side for shipment to Baltimore, a closer location than Norfolk, where we originally wanted to send it. The drive would have been uneventful if it hadn’t been for the transmission which was giving us problems. We could drive in first and second with no trouble, but third meant a grinding noise and no power. We stopped at Documentation first to check on our passports. The girl called and found them over here. We got the car checked in, took a taxi to the Colon bus and had a bouncy salsa bus rid back to Colon. Bob picked up the passports while I opened the boat the checked on Windy. Right now Bob is getting the boat documentation so we can leave.

Last night we had a better sleep than Monday. The other tom cat only came once to disturb the peace. Windy screamed, I screamed, Bob jumped up, Windy sank his fangs into my shoulder, I screamed again, the cat ran. Much better than Monday, our first night on the boat at the club with Windy.

I guess the other male cat took offense that Windy was in his territory. After Monday’s dinner, Windy started growling and looking at the port above the couch. Another cat was looking in. We chased it away. It came back, and we chased it away again. We figured that that was that. Not so. At 2330 (after we called it an early night at 2100), the cat was looking in the main hatch. We three were in side the mosquito net and jumped up when Windy started growling. I chased the cat way and put the front part of the hatch is place. I forgot about the hatch in the fo’c’le. An hour later the cat was sitting in the fo’c’le, and Windy was howling in reply. I chased the cat away and put in that front hatch. Now, I thought we’d have some peace. So much for good intentions.

At 0430, Windy was crazy again. Bob took a flying leap out of bed, and I grabbed Windy. The cat had come in through the skylight and couldn’t’ get out. He kept bouncing off the screens while Windy howled and Bob tried to catch the unwelcome visitor. Finally the cat accidentally caught his claw in the screen above the dish rack and fell with the screen in his claw. He let go and took a leap out the port. We didn’t see him for the rest of the night. Bob was sure he would never come back because of the scare of not being able to get out of the boat. But last night proved different. Tonight is our last night on the boat at

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the club. I hope it is a good one. Yesterday the movers came and took our household possessions for

storage. We sold the air-conditioners, John took the table and dryer. The house is now empty except for two phones. Talk about breaking ties with the land.

Tonight some teachers want to give us a bon voyage party. I don’t know if we really want it. I’d prefer a quiet night, but tell that to a group of teachers who will look for any excuse to party. So we’ll be willing victims of their generosity.

I reorganized the boat food after dinner last night, and it seemed to help the list a little. From two degrees it is now one and a half degrees list to starboard.

The wind has been blowing steadily from the south, perfect for us. Today it is from the north west, still not too bad. We don’t know what it will be like tomorrow. Time will tell. Bye for now. June 22, 1988, 1800

Bon Voyage “party” farewell from teachers and friends: Dorothy, Sally, Kap, Janet Rigby, Howard Perkins, Sally’s friend, and another teacher who’s name I can’t remember. Fantastic copper sunset below mackerel clouds gave a real show to watch while toasting our voyage with champagne.

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Hunky-Dory in the Atlantic Part 2

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Sailing to Jamaica

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Jamaica

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To Bermuda

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Windy Investigating Squid

Bermuda

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Repairs at Sea

Chesapeake Bay

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Annapolis Maryland

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The Webb Clan

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Norfolk Virginia

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Oriental North Carolina

New Saltwater Pump

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Karen & Greg

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Building and installing a new mast.

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Repairing Boom in Gulf Stream

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Virgin Islands

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To Panama Coast Guard Inspection

They are Leaving!

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Through the Panama Canal

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Getting ready to cross the Pacific Ocean

April, 12, 1989 We are just about ready to leave for the South Pacific. Some of our

stay has been fun and games, such as the dinners we have been invited to, the pot lucks at the yacht club, helping a boat transit the canal, relaxing aboard and listening to our compact disk player. But there has been a lot or work, too. We hauled the boat out of the water to paint the bottom and sides, and repaint the boat. That took about a week of having to climb the ladder down to work on the boat and up to sleep. The boat sat at a 10 degree angle and walking and sleeping was an uphill experience! We couldn’t use the sink or head (we can’t have things run out of the boat) so we had to climb down and use the club bathrooms for basic functions. At night I had to use a bucket. Cooking was impossible without using the sink, so we had to eat all of our meals at the restaurant. Luckily the lunch menu included an inexpensive special each week day. We hired a Panamanian to help us but, we did most or the work.

After we put the boat back into the water, the real work began. We hauled lots of things out of the boat and filled our club locker top to bottom. Then we moved everything out of the storage spaces we have in the fo’c’le and lazarette (front and back part of the boat), including all the floor boards for these areas, and hosed and scrubbed them down. The floor boards were scrubbed, sanded and varnished. That took two days. Everything in the living areas of the boat was removed and put in the fo’c’le and lazarette and we scrubbed down that part of the boat. Then we brush-painted and spray-painted all the walls (bulkheads) and ceilings and corners, and sanded and varnished all the natural woodwork, including the ladder and floorboards. That took over a week. All of this time, we were “living aboard.” Each morning I would literally strip the bed. I stripped the linen, removed the foam bed sections end put them in the fo’c’le. Every evening the process was reversed. In the meantime we worked, did the wash and cooked and ate meals. It was quite a mess, as you can well imagine. When we finally got the floor boards back in and put the bed together for the last time, it

was such a relief. We still haven’t gotten everything out of the locker, but we’re getting there. Things are shaping up.

This week we have been tackling the outside. We painted the railing around the boat, the mast, all the trim, and the cabin top and sides. We painted the hatch covers and the areas around the hatches and ports. The cockpit area will have to wait until we get more paint. We can’t find the kind we need here - acrylic latex. The paint we are using now is what we bought when we were in the states this time. Inside paint we bought locally. It is so nice to be finished with the messy part of getting the boat ready. Some of the things we did haven’t been done since the boat was launched, like varnishing the inside.

While all of this was going on, Bob was fixing things, adjusting the tiller, altering the boom rest, etc. The major change was to take an area near the galley that was used as a catchall shelf and turn it into a “hanging locker” (closet) complete with vented door. We can now hang up our dress clothes rather than keeping them folded and wrapped in the storage area behind the couch and having to drag out the iron whenever we want to wear something besides shorts and jeans.

I dug out the sewing machine and made my own changes. I made some canvas shoe bags for the hanging locker. Some pockets hold shoes; others, slips and nylons. The shoe bag for the head holds combs and brushes, our “shower bags” (soap dish, shampoo, razor comb) for when we use the showers at the club, deodorant, nail things, extra tooth paste, etc. Shoe bags are very handy items on a boat. I cut and hemmed several pair of jeans to make shorts and made five blouses and two dresses with material I bought locally and in the Virgin Islands. I also went to Fort Davis and Fort Gulick to visit with teaching friends.

Our new interest now is the lap top computer Bob bought while he was in the states in February. He is working on Pascal, a computer language he has always been interested in learning. He is also working on a book about building the Hunky-Dory. The other day he went back to the Industrial Division to help the guy who took his place there. He is having some problems programming the computer. I am more interested in the fact that we can hook up the computer to our printer - we decided not to store it along with our other computer items. Now I can write long letters to everyone instead of laboriously writing them out individually and not being able to tell everything I want to because of lack of space,

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time and energy. I have a standard typewriter on board that I am using for my personal log. I use it everyday to record things that we do or see or learn, random thoughts, poetry when the mood strikes, feelings and fantasies and desires. But the computer I’ll use to communicate with others, so expect more extensive information from now on.

Last weekend, we took some people sailing - a kind of “thank you” for inviting us to dinner or for the special favors they have granted while we have been here this time. It was the first time we have been sailing since January,

What is left to do now? We have to get most of our things back on board. We have decided to keep our locker as well as our membership at the club so we have a home port when we’re through cruising the Pacific. The fees are very low and we feel it is worth it. So, some things will remain - our refrigerator that runs on 110, some books we don’t want to keep on the boat, etc. After we decide what goes and what stays, we have to restock with food, paper products, etc. An agent from the Free Zone is taking us there to see what is available so we can make the necessary arrangements. We have to stock up for three months or more. Since we don’t travel with refrigeration, we buy mostly canned goods. Fresh foods that last a while include onions, potatoes, cabbage, lemons, lime, and garlic. We also buy other fresh fruits and vegetables and use them up quickly before they go bad. I grow my own sprouts to add to the fresh vegetables. I also bake my own bread aboard using a pressure cooker because we don’t have an oven. English muffins are easier so I make them more often.

While the shopping is going on, we have to go to the French Embassy in Panama City to get visas for French Polynesia. We have to make arrangements to transit the canal and get line handlers ready for the trip. We have to go to the port office and immigration to officially clear out of Panama. We have to secure everything so it stays put when we are underway. We still have to find a home for our cat, Windy. Hopefully the journalist who is coming later this week, a friend of a friend, will take our lovable feline.

After we transit, we’ll refuel and take on more water and then we’ll head West toward the Marquesas, a journey of 5580 miles that will take us about 55 days, without sight of land. From there we go to Tahiti in time for their yearly celebration that coincides with Bastille Day in

France, July 14. So we want to leave soon to avoid rushing from place to place. We’ll play the rest of our trip by ear and spend the winter (their summer) in New Zealand or Fiji. During that time of year, their typhoons come (similar to our hurricanes) and we don’t want to get caught in unprotected waters. So expect Christmas cards from that area.

Two things to make clear about this trip, as well as explain the problems we have had in the past: One is with mail. Please use our Seattle forwarding address. When we get to a port, we call our mail service. They collect all of the mail waiting for us and forward it to whatever address we tell them. This his worked out very well. So, don’t worry if your letters aren’t answered quickly. I answer them as soon as I get them, sometimes two months after you write them, but they eventually get read and answered.

The second matter is phone calls. When we finally get to a port we have to find a phone. Sometimes this isn’t easy. Usually it is a public phone on a busy street corner. Just getting to the phone can be a problem. We have to climb into our dinghy and motor ashore, since we rarely tie up at a dock. (Docking fees are by the foot per day and can run into a lot of money, anchoring is free). In the Virgin Islands, just getting to town to use the phone usually meant a 10 minute trip in open water around an island. The hour can be a problem especially if several time zones are involved. When everything is perfect, Bob calls his mother or brother and I call my mother or daughter. Word is passed along from there. Post cards are sent as quickly as possible to everyone concerned. Then we can sit back and wait for the mail to arrive from Seattle.

One problem we are having in Panama is with money. The banks don’t want to cash traveler’s checks and we can’t have money wired down here for fear of ever getting it out of the bank it is wired to. Luckily, we have friends at Pan Canal who cash our personal checks for us through the Pan Canal treasury office. They have to put their credit on the line for us in case something bounces, which we’d never allow to happen. Everywhere else, we’ve been able to cash traveler’s checks and have had our bank in Virginia wire money to a local bank with no problem. Just here. Well, that will change when we leave. One nice thing about cruising: once we have the boat stocked with food and water and fuel, we can go for months if necessary and never have to spend a cent.

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Cruising? What can I say? It’s wonderful. You’re free to come and go and stay as long as you wish. You meet interesting people everywhere you anchor, international people, people who have been there and have something interesting to say, even if it’s only about their last passage. You see strange sights, lovely sights, frightening sights, fantastic sunsets, quiet dawns, majestic islands; the sea when it’s glassy calm or angry froth, when the colors change from indigo in mid-ocean to aquamarine in 50 feet of Caribbean water; when you can see deep into the clear waters and make out coral and other sea life, where the sea life comes to the surface and meets you, flying fish and porpoises, whales and squid, jelly fish and Portugese Man-’o-war. You see the weather change from dead calm to gale force wind. You work the sails, watch the compass, check the winds, watch the waves, read and write and dream. But mostly you find out that you have the ability to cope with your surroundings. In one of the books I read recently, the author summed it up nicely: “Capacity for survival may be the ability to be changed by environment.”

So, off we go to make Bob’s dream a reality: to build a boat and cruise the Pacific.

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Hunky-Dory in the Pacific Part 3

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SAILING THE PACIFIC DOLDRUMS

May 9, 1989 It is an area of unpredictability, of changing winds, of no winds,

of sunshine, and of rain, of storm clouds of blue sky; of flat seas one moment and contrary currents boiling around you the next, of swells coming from two directions at once.

It is an area of frustration, where your charted course on the map looks like a maze instead of the great circle route, where you watch your fuel dwindle as you motor to try to find a way out and then resign yourself to the fact that you’ll simply have to wait it out and take things as they come - 60 miles today, 40 yesterday - too slowly edge to the trades and a strong steady dependable wind that will make the next 3000 miles whiz by.

It is spending hours in a wet cockpit while the steady rain causes water to trickle down unseen openings of your foul weather gear, wetting your dry clothes, while you wait for some wind to move your boat.

It is a sudden burst of wind from the right direction that has all hands frantically changing sails or coming about, only to reverse the process when the tell tales and the luffing sails show a 90 degree shift.

It is where you are finally doing 6-8 knots by pointing as close to the wind as you can, and a squall hits you from behind and your wind dies and you sit and rock for hours while the current drags you back at one knot to where you first picked up the wind.

It is waiting it out for the next wind while the swells hit you broadside and you try to do your tasks below as the boat thrashes from side to side and things you thought were secure tear loose from their mounts and rattle or fly across the cabin.

It is waking after a good 24 hour run under sunny skies only to discover overcast and rain and no wind; or seeing a clear day darken into angry blue-gray clouds that surround you with squalls.

It is sailing toward a promising open patch of sky only to discover heavy dark clouds on the other side.

It is miles of endless sea and lonely sky and a slight wind that goes pretty close to your course and keeps your boat plodding along for hours

at 4 knots with hardly a heel, and the miles drift by at such a lazy pace you are surprised by your next sight.

It is dreading sundown because you know the pattern: the wind will die and then start up again, but when? from where? how long? how strong?

It is moving so slowly you see a turtle raise his head and you float gently by his brown shell, a booby scoops up a flying fish that suddenly breaks the surface, a whale breaches across the horizon, a school of fish leap out of the water as a squall approaches.

It is settling back to the rhythm of the sea - not fighting it but flowing with it - time to thoroughly enjoy that novel, take that much needed nap, make that special meal, finish that log entry, fix the taff rail log.

It is a kind of peaceful frustration, an ambiguity, a contradiction... and something to be avoided at all costs.

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Panama to Marquesas Islands About 4,000 miles - 46 day voyage.

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Tahiti Moorea

Jay Carlisle, the owner of the Liki Tiki

25 years later.

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Raiatea Bora Bora

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A Day at Sea

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Typical Sailing Day Bob says I should include what cruising is really like. So here goes: Up at dawn to check sails, weather conditions, sea conditions,

course and position. Then the usual brush the teeth, wash up, make the bed and get breakfast, which can be anything from toast to eggs to pancakes to cereals with juices, hot chocolate, tea or coffee. Sounds pretty down to earth, doesn’t it?

Then Bob checks the reading on the Taff Rail Log, a mechanical device that measures distance, he then turns on the SatNav, plugs in the log’s numbers and waits for a position from the satellite. We usually average 100 miles in a 24-hour period. If everything is running smoothly, we are on course, the boat is sailing well, no squalls on the horizon and the boat isn’t rocking too violently - we each have our own pastimes. Bob is learning how to program in Pascal in preparation for computer jobs that now require that skill. He reads, plots courses, trims sails, adjusts steering, naps or just sits on deck and enjoys life.

I read and sew and write and cook and clean and wash. Nothing fantastic. I’m making a counted cross-stitch square for every place we go. Someday, when we are in our own house, one wall of our “den” will have a kind of patchwork quilt made up of the squares, surrounding a cross-stitched map of the world. A record of our travels.

We spend time listening to our collection of compact disks and tapes, too.

Lunch time is our big meal time. It is easier to prepare, eat and clean up at that time of day. We usually eat on deck. weather permitting, balancing the dishes on our laps and watching the birds, flying fish, turtles, porpoises and whales that we frequently see around our boat.

Dinner is a light affair, usually soup or just a can of fruit. By now, 6 p.m., the sun is going down and we like to spend this time on deck, too, watching blazing sunsets.

We check the skies, the seas, the course, the sails, and if nothing is amiss or we are not close to shipping lanes or land, we go to bed. Depending upon which way the boat is heeling (angled) I either sleep in bed with Bob or on the couch across from him. We usually check things from time to time during the night to be sure we’re on course and there

are no ships in the area. We just bought a radar detector that sounds an alarm if someone (usually a big ship) is using radar. That should add to our peace of mind next time. Sometimes we sit out on deck for a while. If the need arises, we stand watches of about 2-4 hours each, depending upon the situation.

Usually things are rather boring after a while when nothing goes wrong and the weather is behaving itself. But then when no one is looking, things suddenly get too exciting! We get into a strong squall and have to reduce sail, sometimes even running bare-pole because the wind overpowers the boat. We are out there in the rain and wind and waves and Bob is forward with his foul weather gear and safety harness trying to reduce sail and I’m at the tiller in my foul weather gear trying to see through the torrential rain and spray and keep the boat on course and keep an eye on Bob and hope he has the harness secured to something on deck so he doesn’t decide to go for a swim and go floating by. Then we go below and dry ourselves and try to ignore the whole thing. But the waves and the current take over and we rock and things below, like my spices and books, break loose and rattle and sometimes fall to the floor. And we find it difficult to walk from the bunk to the head (bathroom) without banging into things. And the wind howls through the rigging and the waves crash on deck, and buckets and things that we thought were tied down on deck begin to slide this way and that, crashing first into the rail and then into the cabin. And then the sun comes out and the wind dies down and the sea calms itself and everything is right with the world. And we pick up the things that fell, and set sail again and continue on our way. Ho, hum, nothing ever happens here!

And then there are other times that we just sit. No wind, nothing. We can’t use our engine because we don’t carry enough fuel. But still the swells continue, usually small ones during a calm period and the boat rocks this way and that. And we just sit and then yet tired of it and try to change our direction or hope that little cloud on the horizon will bring some wind and the sun beats down and it’s hotter than blazes and we try to keep cool and we look out over the empty ocean and can see for miles and not a ripple. We get a lot of computing and reading done during those times - anything to vent our frustration.

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Now, just suppose we have just found land and have made our way into port and have dropped our anchor and now we can relax. Right? Wrong. We have to worry what is down there.

Is it sand or mud or coral or rocks or grass? That makes a difference in what kind of anchor we put out. How deep is it? How much anchor chain and line do we have to put down? What is the wind condition? How many boats are in the harbor? How close are they to us? Do we have enough swinging room? Are we close to the channel or in a acceptable place to anchor? Which way is the wind blowing? So we sit on the deck and spot things on shore to see if the anchor is dragging and has to be reset.

Once all of these things have been taken into consideration, we can launch our dinghy, tie up our boarding ladder, and go ashore. Hopefully there will be a good place to land the dinghy. Maybe a dock or sandy beach. Then where to tie it up? Can we get out of the dinghy without capsizing it? Then is it safe to leave it? Then we have to bring our bundle of boat papers and passports to immigration and customs to check in, scout out the local shops, etc., and hope our dinghy with oars and engine and gas can are still at the dock or on the beach when we finish. Many times it rains in the meantime and we come back to a wet dinghy or have to rush back to the boat to close hatches and ports which are merrily letting in all the rain onto our bed. And it’s always fun and games trying to get to shore or the boat during a rain squall or a sudden blow, especially when we have decided not to put the outboard on the dinghy and have to row. And imagine the added fun if this happens when you are dressed up to go to a fancy restaurant! Or the boredom when you’d like to go ashore just for a change and it is raining cats and dogs and you know you’ll be soaked before landing the dinghy, so you give up and you look longingly at the shore, watching from the ports of course, because you can’t even sit in the cockpit and keep dry.

Now comes the experience of sitting at anchor. You look out the port and see one view. and a few minutes later you see another from the same port as the boat swings and glides and bucks on the anchor line. We see one yacht far away from us and the next instant our boats are close together. We check from time to time to see if we have dragged or are just swinging on the anchor line in a different direction. If a storm comes up during the night or the wind changes direction, we are up and

checking again. We not only have to worry that we might drag into another boat, but we have to hope HIS anchor is holding as well. And then power boats zoom by and leave a wake that sends us rocking and bouncing just as I’ve managed to get three perfect fried eggs on the grill. Ah, the joys of cruising!

Another is bathing on deck. No problem when cruising. Just get down to the birthday suit and bathe using rainwater and soap. etc. In port the boats are too close for that. I made a weather cloth around the railing but it doesn’t completely enclose the bather. We some times wait until dark and then wash up on deck when no one can see. The water in our “solar shower” bag cools after dark and you should hear the reactions when that water hits us!

But, then we are close enough to everyone, like people in real neighborhoods. And, like good neighbors, we visit and trade and share things. We go to each other’s boats and play card games or just enjoy each other’s company. When we see a “neighbor” with a problem, we rush over to help. The other day, Bob helped a friend tie his boat on a mooring. Someone came by this morning. We were going to buy a windlass and lots of chain and he gave us some alternative ideas on anchoring. I had heard the sailing fraternity was one big happy family and now I’m convinced.

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Suwarrow

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America Samoa Pago Pago Harbor

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Tonga

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Fiji

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Kosrae Nan Madol Ruins below.

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Pohnpei Nan Madol Ruins

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Pohnpei Swimming hole

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Guam

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The End of Hunky-Dory