Monday, June 2, 2014

The Sanity in Trading an Appreciating Asset for a Depreciating Asset; or Be Careful What You Ask For; or Boat Shopping With Dummies

In moving from dreaming the dream to actually living the dream, the process was a little sketchy.  I think we thought/hoped we would sell the house and like magic, the right boat would be waiting for us, and as we stepped on board a chorus of celestial beings would let us know "this is the one."  For those of you who have been through this process you are thinking, "yea, fat chance" but what did we know; let me tell you, we learned and are continuing to learn quickly.

Moving out of the house was more difficult than I had anticipated.  No, no, there was no nostalgic reminiscing or tears at leaving our home of 26 years full of good and not so good memories.  No, difficult in the sense that even though we had an estate sale, garage sale, gave a truckload to one charity and four carloads to other charities we still had a mountain of stuff/ crap.  We had dragged our heels on all of this not because we were lazy, well not too lazy, but because we have been to this opera before and in our case the ending was tragic with the deal of the house falling through, so we took a skeptical, wait-and-see attitude; big mistake.  The result of that plan put us working from 0630 Wednesday straight through to 0830 Thursday morning with closing at 0930 that same morning.  Around 0030, we had filled the 5x10-storage unit.  By 0445, both of the dumpsters were full as was every inch of each car save the driver's seat and we were stacking items in our neighbor's driveway and on their porch.  Somewhere between the time the storage was full and the dumpsters had a fly's-ass worth of room in them we discovered a closet we had forgotten, full of stuff we put in there to be sure to take.  Oh did I mention, I had a fever and stuff was coming out of both ends of me all day and into the night.  I was beginning to think God was telling me something.  Well somehow, we made it to the closing, signed the papers and later that afternoon we had more money in the bank than ever in or lives.  The plan (I know, man plans God laughs) was to stay at the neighbors (the ones with all our stuff in their driveway) that night and leave for my brothers in Aubrey TX the next day.  Well after the closing and I made a trip to the UPS Store to return our UVerse stuff and the credit union I went back to my neighbors and passed out until 1900hrs. That evening Jo came in at some time and lay down but I am not sure.  The next day we spent emptying most of the storage unit and reorganizing it, gaining enough space that all that would not fit could go in Jo's car and mine would hold what we were taking boat shopping.  So now its Saturday morning and we head to my brothers, get there in time to see my nephew graduate from University of North Texas and headed out Sunday for Florida via a crappy Best Western Hotel in Mississippi and an even worse Comfort Inn in Tallahassee; life on the road.   Three days later, we were in Lauderdale By The Sea at the Horizon Hotel with money in our bank account and a whole lot of good intentions.  We had a list of boats we thought we wanted to see and were eager to go. 

We crossed in to Florida along I-20 and stopped at the visitor's center.  I took opportunity to call our broker with whom we had been visiting for the past several years about different boats. All along, our plan was to identify catamarans that 1) we could afford (read as: not new) and 2) had enough headroom for my 6'6" lumbering frame to fit in without too many head scars.  I have determined that sailors, by in large, are not tall people since finding adequate headroom meant going bigger (i.e. longer and wider) and older in our hunt for our floating home.  We had taken every opportunity we could fit into the budget to either charter or at least step on board every catamaran in our price range we could during this process, and while frustrating to our broker, it did help us decide what not to look at. You may or may not be aware that our home port, Lubbock Texas, is not a place where you would find too many boats to examine; in fact there are exactly 0, and while you would think the Texas Coast would allow more boat-looking opportunities when it came to catamarans we ended up seeing 1 catamaran there and she was new (read unaffordable) so didn't really count.  NOW, had we wanted a monohull (I explained the difference back in one of my earlier blog entries) you would have still zero in Lubbock, but many on the Texas Coast.  I had actually broached the subject of looking at monohulls, and we stepped on a few at boat shows but it was a non-starter for Jo.  All the cats were either down in St. Martin's, Tortola in the BVIs, or in Southern Florida.  Since we could drive to Florida we headed there first with passports in hand, ready to fly off to St. Somewhere if need be and that brings me back to the visitor's center and a phone call to our broker.  The person we have always been working with is a walking encyclopedia of knowledge, truly one of the most fascinating people I have ever met, he is also one of the busiest people I have ever met between owning one of the most notable catamaran brokerages in the world and developing a line of cruising catamarans.  Our phone call reached him right as he was about to leave for St. Martin's and other stops in the islands and then off to Philly and then off to… well you get the idea but he was determined to get us a boat to fit us.  Therefore, I emailed him the list of boats we had found online and he arranged for his senior broker in Ft. Lauderdale to show us some boats, problem being that this broker (who we very much enjoy working with and are still currently working with) was in town; he had the morning of one day available.  This turned out to be a whole day but still not a lot of time. Working with a Broker has it pluses and minuses, but since this was the first time for us to buy a boat that didn't fit on a trailer and would have to sustain us in a fluid environment it made total sense for us.
    
Now if you equate selling a boat to selling a house you would be correct in many aspects of the process with two distinctly different aspects.  First, in real estate you often hear the mantra: location, location, location, with boats the same is true but with a different twist on the adage.  When most people look at houses they look in neighborhoods they want to be in whether for schools, nightlife, prestige, etc.  Boats, on the other hand might be spread all over the place located at the dock in someone's backyard who might not even be the owner, out of the water sitting on the hard behind locked gates, on the hook (anchor) out in the middle of a bay or lake, there aren’t any "boat lots."  We went from downtown Ft. Lauderdale, to Boca Raton, to Key Largo, to Jacksonville, to White Stone VA to our "locations."  The other big difference is that while most houses for sale have lock boxes with keys in them getting into boats involves a different set of showing instructions with each one that might even involve being met at a dock and taken out to the boat in a dinghy. We also spent a lot of time on each boat crawling around and looking at everything knowing that getting a second look would be time consuming and maybe not even possible.  We would spend on average two hours on something 44 feet long.  You take so much time because you are buying a home that is designed to take you where you were not designed to go, the open ocean, and could, if not seaworthy, kill you in the extreme.  We arrived at the first boat, a Lagoon 440, priced suspiciously low for this model and after just a short while on board we discovered why.  Now water and sailing go hand-in-hand in sailing but the goal is to keep the water out of the boat or else bad things tend to happen from, let's say, sinking, to, as in this case, mold and dry-rot.   Even our broker was amazed at how bad of shape this boat was in, we still examined every inch but moved on.  We moved on from there to see a Grainger 47, a semi-custom boat that was amazingly big but had spartan sleeping accommodations and was 100k over our budget (he wouldn't be a broker if he didn't show us something we couldn't afford.)  Even though it was way out of our price range, we spent more than an hour on her filling out our spreadsheets.  Yes the spreadsheets.  We both follow an online newsletter and Face Book page entitled The Boat Galley, one of the articles chronicled the author of the sites' purchase of their new to them Gemini Catamaran.  They shared their as well as another sailors' check list for shopping so we used their 2 to create our own and filled one out on every boat.  Three pages on everything we thought we should look at, examine, measure, and record.  Helpful to Jo in keeping all the boats from mashing up together , and to make sure we actually took note of each thing we had thought was important, not just assumed we noticed it.  Web site listings often give apples-to-oranges descriptions and , surprisingly, leave out all the unappetizing stuff.  From the Grainger it was off to Boca to see a Leopard 42 that was on the hook in Boca Lake. We wanted to see her more for how we might fit on her than as a purchase since she had not been imported into the U.S. and hence was not for sale to U.S. citizens in U.S. waters.  OK so here's another difference from real-estate, boats might be flagged (registered) in other countries and each country has its own rules as to what procedures, import duty, and taxes are required to sell a boat to someone in another country.  You can re-flag a boat if all the proper duties are paid and regulations are met.  This Leopard was flagged in the BVIs, owned by a French citizen with a Bahamian wife, and sitting in Boca Raton FL in the US of A.  All of that aside, the boat was lovely, well cared for by someone who knew and appreciated boats.  While Jo and I were poking around, our broker and the Leopard's owner were conversing in rapid fire French and even though Jo and I had listened to part of a Pilsner method tape on basic French we had no clue as to what was being said.  His Leopard was anchored out in Boca Lake so it was a dingy ride out and back but it was nice to be on the water.  Except for the fact that the boat was overpriced and not for sale to a US Citizen, I might be writing this from the cockpit of our Leopard in Boca Lake.  After a quick lunch, it was off to what we had hoped would be the best for last, a Fountaine Pajot Bahia 46 rare owners version.  What's an "owner's version?"  Good question!  Many if not most production cats are built for the charter trade in exotic parts of the world.  Their average use is a week long charter 9-10 months out of the year, crewed with either a professional captain and crew, or bare boat where the charterer serves as captain.  They are mostly owned by private owners who, in exchange for a Charter Company such as The Moorings chartering out their vessel to cover the costs of ownership,  get to use it several weeks a year and at the end of the contract can either sell the boat or take over the full use and costs.  The difference in charter versions and owner's versions comes in the sleeping and head a.k.a. bathroom (head)/shower accommodations. With a charter version, the emphasis is on how many paying people you can get on board so they have at a minimum 4 cabins, 2 in each hull, each with a small head/shower combination.  An owner's version will have one hull (side) dedicated to the owner with a separate shower stall and head, spacious berth (bed) and often a couch or office area.  The other hull would be set up like the charter version to accommodate guests.  So an owners version is the more sought after in the used boat market and what we ideally wanted.  We had first seen a Bahia in Key Largo on one of our "will Fred fit" trips.  She was being repaired and updated by a French Ex-Pat who had the skills and a passion for working on boats.  His was a four-cabin version designed for the charter trade and represented some sacrifices on our part but she was long, sleek, and most of the systems from rigging to engines were new.  We spent part of two days looking at her but in the end when he was ready to sell her, our house had not sold, and she was quickly sold.  Back to present day.  So it as with some excitement and anticipation that we headed through the condo security gate where she laid to board this Bahia.  OK, I admit that last sentence sounded like it was from a cheap romance novel but in a way, there is that kind of anticipation.  However, like I suspect is true with internet dating, the picture did not match the reality. Not that the pictures of the Bahia were doctored, they weren't even pictures of THAT Bahia!  They were taken from one for sale down in St. Martin.  But it was closing time in the bar (country song metaphor) so we decided to take a look anyway.
 
As it turned out, she was a 4 cabin version converted to a 3 cabin version, sort-of.  She had an industrial sized transformer to convert the originally wired 220v to 120v and a battery bank big enough for a small ship in the Navy.  There was also evidence of structural damage and I couldn't stand up in the shower, and…we woke up the next morning and realized we needed to be choosier around closing time.  It was now after 1700hrs in non-metaphor land, our broker need to go deliver an offer to a client, and we were deflated and needed a drink. 
  
We went back to the hotel to regroup.  There was still the Leopard 45 in Key Largo we were scheduled to see on Friday, and we were waiting to hear back from our original brokers' assistant.  As I turned out there was a music festival in Key Largo that weekend so I went on line and grabbed the only overpriced room I could afford but only for Thursday night, I need to mention the room was pre-paid, un- refundable, but we were going to see the Leopard on Friday so ery'-tin-cool.  We finally heard back from the assistant to our original broker after many attempts both by me and the broker we were working with to text and call him only to find out the Leopard was under contract and not available to be viewed, but we had a pre-paid hotel room so off to Key Largo off  we went.  When we were last there, the French Ex-Pat turned us on to a bar / restaurant along one of the docks named Sharkeys.  So at least we could go to Sharkeys, drink too much beer and have very fresh fish and shrimp, which is what we did.   We also thought this would be a good time to regroup and spend time on the internet researching boats in the Caribbean.  Well the hotel had wifi, it just didn't work in our room, so that plan was shot too but there was Sharkeys.  On the road back to Ft. Lauderdale, we had no boat, no prospects for a boat, and no place to stay.  We called our broker and arranged to meet for breakfast Saturday morning to develop a plan of action.  We also booked a room in a nice hotel with excellent wifi and went to work.  Digging deeper I found a custom-built boat located in Ft. Lauderdale that I wanted more information about.  We also looked for boats in the Caribbean and Bahamas and were ready to do some flying, but there was that custom boat in Lauderdale…  After meeting for breakfast Saturday morning in a funky restaurant called The Floridian complete with a Cuban waiter who had the energy of a Chihuahua on speed we developed a plan.  We would try to see the custom boat on Sunday, Monday at the latest, then Jo and I would head for White Stone VA via Jacksonville FL to see boats in both locations.  Then we would come back to FL, find a long-term rental within 100 miles of Ft. Lauderdale and settle in for the hunt.  But first, the custom boat.  Sunday came and went, Monday came and before it went we heard from our broker that the boat would not be available for showings and even though a week later it is still listed as for sale, the owners do not want to sell after all; well crap!  At least we got time at the beach and pool and attended a lovely church service at an Episcopal church in Ft. Lauderdale.  We were reassessing everything, boats, plans, our sanity, and budget.

Maybe now is a good time to talk about budget.  While it is said, that BOAT really stands for:  "Break Out Another Thousand" or is defined as a "hole in the water in which you throw money" that’s selling it short.  If budget is a concern (as it is since I have still not hit the lotto) then that becomes a limiting factor.  We, mostly Jo, were determined to enter this chapter of our life debt-free so financing was not an option if even possible since we now had no collateral on land like a house and the boat you are buying is not considered collateral.  We had the equity out of our house with savings set aside for the expenses associated with finding, surveying, and refitting the boat. Now while $260,000 (our budget) sounds like a lot of money, in the world of blue-water catamarans it was fairly small change and there appeared to be a lot of us boat paupers out there shopping.  Now if we had wanted a monohull the budget would have allowed us to buy close to a new boat but as I have discussed in previous entries a catamaran was what we wanted/needed.   As Captain Ralph was fond of saying, with a boat there are three factors: speed, comfort, and price, the catch is you only get two of the three.  For us, that meant if the driving one was price then if we went for speed all we could afford was a boat not meant for ocean cruising, well at least comfortably, or comfort, and of course we are going for comfort, but we don't get speed.

Back to the hunt!  We took off for White Stone VA where we planned to see a boat no longer in production that has as many critics as fans but was highly recommend (the brand not necessarily this boat) by someone I respect and whom I will hire and his wife to help Jo and I acclimate to the lifestyle and learn all the systems on whichever vessel we end up with.  Before White Stone, a stop in Jacksonville was on the agenda to have a look at a 47-foot Nautitech, a performance catamaran at a decent price so what was wrong with her.  We have learned (again) that is the first question you should ask yourself: if the price is that good there is something they are not telling you in the ad.   To be fair, the Nautitech was not in as bad a shape as the first boat we saw, the Lagoon 440, but she represented a lot more work than we wanted to do and besides when the engine throttles are attached to the hull with duct tape that to me is not a good sign so back on the road we went and made it over the state line into Georgia.  Now for all their "wackiness" in Georgia, at least I-95, were some of the best roads we had traveled on to this point.  The next morning we flew through Georgia, went through South Carolina bypassing the infamous 'South of the Border', and ended up on the North Carolina / Virginia border.  A side note if you will.  It continues to amaze me that I can drive all day and still be in Texas but eight hours on the road in the east and I can make it through three states and on the border of another, and, the further north I go the faster I can fly through states if not for the constant traffic.

That evening in North Carolina, we finally got viewing instructions for the cat in White Stone, a Dean 440 Espace.  I needed to call the listing broker and he would meet us at the boat that was located on a dock located in the back yard of the owner who was off at his other home in Colorado.  I don't have one home and this guy has two and a boat; damn lotto!  The next morning I punched the address in White Stone into the GPS and we were off to the mouth of the Chesapeake Bay.  Now our broker told us that he had clients last year who looked at this boat and she was too much work to get her into cruising condition for them and they eventually bought a Dean 3 years newer and 60-70k more expensive.   There is a real consideration to be had between buying all you can afford and maybe a little more but having to do less work on the vessel in order to live out your dream and buying what could be referred to as a "project-boat."  In workshops on buying multihulls, the presenters often encourage those in attendance to consider a newer and smaller boat in that fits in the budget and represents less work.  That thought has been present in the back of my head throughout this process so it is with some trepidation that I approach this "project" boat.  It should also be said that, to us, living the dream was more important than waiting for the dreamboat.  We met the selling broker whose office was in Deltaville VA about 30 minutes away and spent all the time he had looking around.  He was very straightforward with us about the history of the boat and some of the known issues as well as his experience on smaller Dean Cats off the Cape of Storms (Cape of Good Hope) from his native South Africa where the Dean was built.  First off, she did not look like other cats.  Her mast was raked aft (back) 7 degrees instead of straight up-and-down and while most cats have a large forward trampoline area, which is nice for lying out on or sleeping but really is to reduce weight, the Dean had a mostly solid foredeck with small tramps.  As I was asking the broker questions Jo gave me the "thumbs-up" which made me nervous.  While Jo tends to focus on the positive aspects of the boat, you know I found everything I thought was wrong but she was the best we had seen, well the best we had seen for sale to U.S. Citizens in U.S. Waters.
 
One night while on the drive up north I began looking at boats for sale by owner and found a Leopard 43 located in Northern Maryland / Southern MD.  I contacted the owner and the plan was to go from the Dean to the Leopard then head back south for personal business in Manteo NC and then a visit with Jo's stepsister in Mebane NC and a chance to once again unwind with some back porch sitting and wine drinking.   As we headed to Maryland, we kept talking about the Dean and the possible possibilities she represented.  So we pulled over, texted the listing broker and arranged to see her the next morning, did a U-turn and headed back to the White Stone area to find a place for the night.  Over a dinner that night of fine Chesapeake shellfish and Yuengling beer, we made a list of pros and cons.  The next morning we met the Dean's broker for the second time at the boat knowing his time was limited so we were as efficient as we could be.  We looked at things like rearranging the berths to make a semi-island berth for the owner.  We rooted around more in the cabinets looking for mold and more signs of abuse.  We took pictures of all the "problem" spots so we could send them off to our broker.    But the biggest issue I had with the boat was the lack of holding tanks.  I am now going to discuss the ever important but not dinner table subject of dealing with human waste.  There are few things more disgusting than a clogged toilet and because of that, sailors are very temperamental when it comes to what goes in the toilet.  My rule is, if it didn't go in you, it doesn't go in the head.  This means unless you are in the habit of ingesting any and all forms of paper or personal hygiene products you are asked to discard them in the wastebasket provided.    Agreed, that left unattended things might get a little ripe so we try not to let that happen.  The other subject not for the table is what happens to what does go into the head.  In most of the world solid and liquid waste is pumped directly overboard; this is why I don't run the water maker or swim if the anchorage is full of boats.  However, in this country and many U.S. Territories the dumping of waste either via the head or by direct deposit is illegal.  Waste must go in something called a holding tank that, hopefully, is designed to hold it safely and odor free until it is pumped out.   My RV-ing friends know all about that.  If one of the many state or national organizations  who are charged with enforcing the rules catches you not conforming to this rule within 3 miles of the U.S. coast line they will be happy to issue you a healthy fine.  The Dean was built in South Africa and as such did not come with holding tanks.  The current owner met the letter of the law by installing one 8-gallon holding tank that services only one of the 3 heads.  Unbelievably, that single dilemma on this boat kept me up most of the night trying to figure out a work around.  Really, 8-gallons, one high fiber meal and you need a pump out.  We really didn't want to spend our days in U.S. waters either holding it in, which at our age isn't an option, or plan our cruise from holding tank to holding tank.  I was ready to walk away but Jo and our broker was sure we could find a fix; remember, Break-Out-Another-Thousand!


Let's talk about falling in love.  Now some (idiots) out there believe in love at first sight.  I will give you lust at first sight but love, well that's something deeper more meaningful, it takes time to grow and fester, I mean flower.  This particular boat, for me, wasn't lust and wasn't love, but there was something that was intriguing, something that kept us going back and discussing possibilities; we were falling in-like.  We never did go see the Leopard and just when we thought this might be the one, a new temptress appeared in my Gmail inbox, a sleek Leopard 43, 6-years newer and with all the bells and whistles, however, like a temptress to a middle-aged man her costs were too high and even if we stretched every penny she was out of or league, well bank balance.  We took the weekend to think about it, said the final goodbye to a wife of a dear friend and headed for respite in the hills of North Carolina.  Monday was Memorial Day and even though our broker's main office was closed, we knew he would be working, so we called him and instructed him to make an offer on a 2002 Dean 440 Espace.  The owner was in his other home in Colorado Springs so a lot of electronic back and forth and tense as well as heated moments ensued over the next few days but as of this moment, we are sitting in Deltaville VA, waiting for a survey (like a home inspection but more detailed and on and off the water) and if all goes well, by early July we should be sitting in a boat yard adding holding tanks getting ready to splash the, then, newly christened s/v Lizards On Ice.  So stay tuned for the next chapter of this exciting tale of insanity.

A Few Pictures of Jabulo soon to be renamed Lizards on Ice; why you ask, well what is more out of their element that a couple of Lizards on Ice!

Dean 440 Espace 

Dean 440 Espace Port View

The Admiral The Spreadsheet and tape measure 

The Navigation Station so we don't get too lost

The Pointy Thing a.k.a. the Mast 

A Proper Gally

The Front End or as we call it the Bow

The Back End or the Stern



Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Getting Ready Part 10 or "Put a Fork In It Its Done"

Pre-ramble:
Well as the saying goes: "time marches on"!  There are a lot of other sayings but I'll stick with that one for now.  Since my last up-date I have remained retired and despite what some think, am enjoying it.  Not getting a lot accomplished but that's ok.  Well I did remodel the lower level laundry room / half bath and fixed things as they needed fixing.  We have done a little traveling.  Most recently, down to Houston for the Southwest International Boat Show and a nice visit with the Kingwood family.  In early March we headed to Aubrey TX (outside Denton which is outside Dallas) to celebrate my dad's 82 birthday.  The whole event was hosted by my brother and his wife in their new home which is beautiful.  Relaxing in his media room made me wonder where I could put one on a boat.  Daughter #2 rode down with us and Daughter #1 and husband came down from AR and were able to bring grandson #1.   On the day of dad's birthday we were hit with an ice storm that made everyone's departure and trips home a little more stressful then we would have liked but all arrived home safely.

After a brief attempt at selling our home on our own, we have once again engaged the assistance of someone who knows what they are doing and the house went on the market in mid February.  So we are back to making the bed every day.  We also drastically reduced the listing price to the point it impacts the boat decisions when they come.  After a series of long discussions, we decided that the dream of being out on the water was more important than the "dream" boat.  This is not to say that if I hit on the Powerball that 50' Catana won't be on order.  Given my odds are both slim and none on wining the Powerball we have adjusted out wish list and are focusing on getting out there, wherever "there" is. 

Part 10, or the last time we went sailing:
If you know nothing else about Jo you must know she hates cold.  Not in the, I really hate it when __fill in the blank_______; no hate it in the most profound of ways.  The other thing you should know is that way out here in West Texas the weather can be best described as bipolar and really polar.  For example, this past Saturday 12 April it was 93 and on Monday the high wasn’t even 43 with a low that night of 25, in Texas, in April.  Now my friends up north are thinking boohoo, but again, it is Texas not Minnesota.  This particular fall it was unusually cold very early and that set the stage for all, well some, future decisions.  Being a college professor, as glamorous and high paying as it sounds, well it is neither and as a result, we have to carefully budget our sailing adventures.  For example, sailing one summer, a new driveway the next; never sailing two summers in a row, except!  Cold trumps most everything and one late October day in which we looked out into the courtyard and say white flakes falling from the sky the decision was made to book a charter for that summer even though we had just gone the previous summer.  So on the phone I went to contact BareCat Charters and booked a Lagoon 410 named Eyes of the World, yes the owners were Dead Heads.  We chartered her for 2 weeks, later extended to 18 days in late July through August, is way off season.  The other thing different about this time was we were not going to bring either daughter, it was just Jo and me alone on the boat.  Although we invited our neighbors later in the coming spring they could only come down for 5 days, but I am getting ahead of myself.  Winter continued to confirm Jo's belief that her attitude is determined by her latitude and I will admit that I too was quickly losing any fascination I had with the cold.  Spring came, slowly, then summer arrived like a freight train; all the while we checked off the days. 

One of the great joys we have is sharing our excitement and experiences on boats with others.  First Jo with me so many years ago, then with our son when he was younger, then our daughters, and this summer with our neighbors.  There is always a risk when you expose someone to something radically different then what they are use to that disaster will ensue.  We were pretty sure our neighbors would enjoy the experience and if not, well they would head home and we would never speak of it again.  We did our best to prep them for life, albeit for just a few days, on the water.  Stuff like Navy showers, no A/C in the tropics, potential nasty weather, the joys of a marine head (bathroom), etc.. but they were game.  We were flying in from different locations but met in Puerto Rico and flew on to Tortola  BVI. When we got in it was late and we shared a buss/taxi with another couple as we headed on a white-knuckle ride to the BareCat base in Sea Cow's Bay.  When we got there, of course nothing was open and our provisions weren’t scheduled to arrive until the next morning, there was, however, a bottle of Cruzan Rum waiting for us as a welcome gift, and Jo was smart enough to pack with us some Raman Noodles and Crystal Light, so our first dinner on board was Crystal Light, made with warm tank water and mixed with the complementary rum and the Raman Noodles.  Now I won't say it was the best meal we had on our charter but at that particular moment, it was pretty damn good.  The freezer and fridge weren’t working and an alarm kept going off that I misidentified as a bilge alarm (it was the inverter being overloaded by a laptop we were trying to get up and working) but we were all tired so we would wait until the morning to work the bugs out.  My instincts told me to check the shore power breaker and I should have listened to them because that's what it was.  We were stuck at the dock until early afternoon while we waited on our neighbors lost luggage but we were on island time so it gave us time to buy more rum, ice, beer, and other essentials, get the provisions from Bobby's Market stowed away and to arrange for a pilot to take us up to Anegada later in the trip.  When the luggage finally arrived we motored out of Sea Cow's Bay and set a course for Soldiers Bay went through the "Happy Hooking of a Mooring" drill described in Part 9 of this blog.  You might notice we sent our first night in Soldiers Bay on our last charter and did on this one as well.   This is no because it is a "special" anchorage but it is an easy sail from the charter base and somewhat secluded.  Being somewhat secluded, it is often missed by the guys picking up the mooring fees ($25 then now $30) for the privilege of using their mooring and being basically cheap I was hoping on a free night, which I got, this time.  The next morning, after breakfast we headed out for some basic sailing with no particular place to go.  The wind was barreling right down the Sir Francis Drake Channel so we got a lot of tacking and gibing practice in as we made it to the Cooper Island Resort located in Manchioneel Bay for a relaxed dinner at the resort.    The next morning involved a quick trip to the Baths, the rock formation not the tub and a sail over the top of Tortola down to what was suppose to a relaxing swim at Sandy Spit and some snorkeling but turned into an anchor recovery exercise when the anchor chain jammed on the windlass (the winch that raises and lowers the anchor).  Once recovered on deck we made for Jost Van Dyke and picked up a mooring outside the infamous Foxy's.  A little doctoring on the windlass and several libations at Foxy's and all was good.   Unfortunately this was not our last issue with the anchor windlass.  A trip to Cane Garden Bay, because as Jimmy taught us I hear it gets better, that’s what they say, as soon as you sail on to Cane Garden Bay.  We wanted to visit the Callwood Rum Distillery but it was closed for the Emancipation Holiday, as were most places but a nice visit was had.  Some snorkeling at Monkey Bay then it was off to Trellis Bay for our friends last night with us.  Early the next morning I took our neighbors to the dingy dock for the short walk to the airport and their flight back to reality and I hung around waiting for our pilot who was required by the charter company to take us to Anegada for the first time.  As I said earlier, you are never sure when introducing something like cruising on a sailboat to someone if it will be a disaster or success but I can say without a doubt it was a resounding success and they are almost as anxious for us to move aboard a boat as we are so they can come visit and welcomed crew they be.
 
Our romp across the open ocean to Anegada was uneventful.  I picked up a lot of pointers from our pilot, a charter captain from South Africa who looked the part.  Once into the only real anchorage we did that, anchor.  No mooring balls or fees and the anchor windlass behaved itself.  When we sailed in the Bahamas we almost always anchored.  The sea bed was a mixture of sand and turtle grass but in the BVIs, for the most part, all the islands are volcanic and where there is sand it is very deep the exception being Anegada which looked more like Abaco than the BVIs.  There were mooring balls to be had but why pay the fee when you can anchor for free.  We spent two wonderful days there.  Rented a car and went in search for the Pink Flamingos but all we found was some pink plastic staff stuck in a mangrove tree.   We swam at Loblolly Bay and had lobster at the Anegada Reef Hotel.  We also encountered the first of two "credit card captains" as we came to know them on this trip.  A nice enough couple came over to our boat for drinks and a visit.  They were on a 30-something foot monohull on a mooring ball off our stern.  They were quite amazed that we were anchored and were sure we would drag into them during the night.  Once I assured them we were, or should I say, they were fine the evening proceeded and then refused to end.  They told us their life story and that they were promised a power cat from the "M" charter company but the boat they reserved was unavailable and they were given a sailboat, told to just motor around in this and they could even pull out that white cloth at the front of the boat, or as we like to call it, the jib.  Of course they had no idea what they were doing and I was even more concerned when they told us they both had their Coast Guard "Six-Pack" operator's license; I doubted their veracity.  The evening came to an unceremonious end and in the morning they motored away and since I didn't hear of any "M" brand charter boats sinking for the next two weeks I will assume they or should I say the vessel survived; as for them, I won't venture to guess.  The rest of the charter to quote  Zach Brown: Flew by like a drunk Friday night. 

We had planned to sail to the Spanish Virgins and the USVI but had entered full cruisers mode, "no hurry mon,"  and just enjoyed the cruising grounds on a relaxed pace.  That's not to say it was uneventful, like the time we went to anchor in  a small little bay where there are no mooring balls and room for maybe three boats.  As we headed in there was already one boat there and of course in the prime spot but there was still room.  As we entered and began to find a location to drop the hook, I had Jo go forward to prepare the anchor rode.  As she inched it out, emphasis on inched, the afore mentioned windlass decided it was not finished with us and started running freely.  As I watched all the chain (200') followed by the line (rope) head to the bottom of the bay I wondered if the bitter end of the line was cleated off; and yes, that is why it is called the bitter end!  Well the anchor gods took pity on us and the rode did not all end up on the bottom of the cove but we did have several feet of line and all that chain to haul back on board by hand.  I am sure the entire escapade provided fine entertainment for the monohull successfully anchored in the bay.  Not wanting to trust our ground tackle, or precisely, the windlass we made our way over to Marina Cay and picked up a mooring ball.  The rest of the charter went from great wind to no, I mean no wind.  You come to appreciate a little breeze when trying to sleep in the Caribbean heat, in August, with no breeze but it did give us a taste of the cruising life; well maybe just a nibble. 

Earlier I mentioned two credit-card captains, the first being the couple we met in Anegada; the second was witnessed while resting peacefully one morning after the tropics version of a Pub crawl.  This one involves starting at one end of the beach lined with establishments specializing in "adult" beverages and making your way to the other end.  We had to do it, I mean we had coupons left from the Drinking Mans Guide to the BVIs.  Well needless to say, the next morning I was moving at a measured pace enjoying a cup of coffee while Jo slept when I see this monohull from the "M" brand charter company heading in towards White Bay.  Now to get into White Bay you need to cut through one of two channels at either end of the reef that surrounds it.  One is barely marked with a buoy of questionable placement and the other, smaller and not marked at all.  The channels were located, one at one end of the bay, one at the other.   Well this captain credit-card decided to split the distance and was going to go between the two channels.  I got on the VHF radio as well as others witnessing this to try and warn the captain but to no avail.  We heard him hit where we were so I can only imagine the noise on board the charter boat.  A few of us hopped into our dinghies and motored out to see if we could help the young man with his wife, kids, and parents on board get off the reef but he assured us he had it all under control.  We left White Bay several hours later, the monohull still aground.  As much damage as it did to the young man's ego and the vessel, the real damage was to the reef and that's the real shame.

Well the charter came to an end after a quiet night in a cove on Peter Island, just us and a 175 foot motor yacht from Puerto Rico.  The next day we fueled the boat back up cleaned it up and returned it to the charter base.  We learned a lot this trip about the life we thought we want.  We realized it can and will be boring at times, challenging at times, entertaining at times with us providing the entertainment occasionally, but in the end I walked away convinced that it is something we have to try.

Post Script-

Well this is the end of the  "getting ready" chapters of the blog.  The next step will be finding a boat, buying a boat, learning the boat, and a thousand other things that go along with it before we "cast-off".  If you have been following these posts you know that the execution of this dream is dependent on selling this house.  The other elements, selling our possessions, kids moving out, Bagel the Beagle going to the happy howling grounds after 18 years of tormenting me to my wife's amusement, oh yes, I retired, got really sick, got better, so here we are.  Additionally, if you have been following this blog you know shortly after we put the house on the market in March 2011 we had a contract for close to asking price and you might remember that deal fell apart leaving the dream hard aground.  Well although we don't have the check-in-hand as of yet we do have another contract on the house!  We have made it past the option period, the inspection (survey in boat terms) went well, now we wait for their sold home to close and as of 8 May (knock wood) we will be homeless!  The offer was nowhere near the original asking price but what is important is that it is enough to get out there because to quote the "pleasant" Captain Ron: if it's going to happen, it's going to happen out there! .  So stay tuned as we move into the next phase of this adventure that will include shopping for, buying, and surveying  a boat, taking all our stuff to the boat, getting rid of the stuff we took to the boat when we realize it is still too much stuff, and finally sailing off out there!




Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Getting Ready Part 9 or BVIs Here We Come!

Pre-Ramble:
 
 I realize it has been some time since I last posted to the blog.  No real excuse, just a lot of good intentions with little follow through.  Before I get back to the tale of how we got here, an update on what has been happening or not since I last posted.  At last post, we had our big sale, I got to ride in a big vehicle with lots of flashing lights, and had people cut stuff out of me.  I am happy to say, after some recovery, I am doing fine.  October found Jo and me on the road until early November.  The trip took us to Riverton NJ, Washington D.C. (during the shutdown), to Annapolis for the U.S. Sailboat Show, to the middle of N.C. for chicken and waffles, back porch sitting (and drinking).  From there we headed to the OBX of N.C. for time with friends, family, and time by ourselves wandering the lower OBX, walking in the sand, and enjoying the beach life.  Back on the road it was off to Biloxi via a couple ferry rides, short stops along the way, and a shock to our sense of all that is ascetically correct in "South of the Border" S.C.  In Biloxi, a large time was had with a former student and her family with a side trip to LuLu's in Gulf Shores and some time on the Red Neck Riviera, complete with a visit to the Naval Air Museum in Pensacola FL.  A long haul took us to Houston (Kingwood) where Jo fed her other passion at the International Quilt Show; we spent some quality time with her family before a pit stop back in Lubbock and then a trip to see my father in Colorado Springs.  Overall, it was 6,000+ miles, many hotel bills, an unidentified smell from the back of the car, a case of Kalik, one of Carib, and 2 of Yuengling beer, and most importantly the time-off from life, health, our house not selling, and time with each other.  Oh yeah, the house.  Well, as I said, it had not sold as of the trip and remains unsold today.  Currently it is for sale by owner and if you are wondering what kind of dump we are living in that has not sold in 20 months you can visit the website at
Tampa-Miami-Tortola :
Ok now back to the sailing.  When I last visited the subject, we had survived Captain Ron in the Abaco's and Homeland Security and Immigration let me back into the country after a few tense moments.  Having learned a lot while on our two week bareboat charter we realized we had a lot more to learn so it was back to school back on the s/v Kathleen  D, except this time with Captain Tracy in Florida, in February.  Now the Chamber of Commerce would have you believe that it is always sunny and warm in FL; it's not, and it happened to be especially not this February.   Even though, as compared to the Northern parts of the country, the upper 30's to mid 40's is relatively warm in February, when you are on a boat, on the water, it's pretty damn cold.  The plan was to complete ASA 105 Costal Navigation and ASA 106 Advanced Costal Cruising in preparation for a 10-day bareboat charter in the British Virgin Islands (BVI) that summer and for our life aboard that, we had hoped would be sooner, not later.  There was another student for the two classes, Bob (I think; sorry if not) from Pittsburgh and Jo was a ridesail-along.  As I mentioned, it was cold and we were cold, and of having believed the Chamber without cold weather clothes but the sailing was great, the classes were expertly delivered by Captain Tracey.  Bob, being an engineer in the real world helped me with the difficult (a.k.a. math) in the navigation sections.  We passed our classes and were qualified on spinnakers and kissed a migrating sandbar only once.  As you might remember form earlier posts, s/v Kathleen D is a Maine Cat 41, she is a fast boat, and we had seriously considered a Maine Cat for our live-aboard home but for a lot of good reasons (budget for one) won't go that route.  The sailing was wonderful with plenty of wind and surprisingly from the right direction.  We sailed into Tampa Bay under the Sunshine Bridge, met up with Bob's wife, who was staying on land during the class, one night for drinks and dinner and with the exception of Jo's hair freezing to the inside hull had a great time.  From there we made the short flight to Ft. Lauderdale and on into South Beach for the Miami and Strictly Sail Boat Show.  We had no idea what to expect and no way to expect what we saw.  If it went in or on the water, it was there.  From Cigarette Boats straight out of Miami Vice to small dinghies and everything in-between.    It was so big, that there was a shuttle between the two docks and the Miami Convention Center.  There were vendors of all things nautical and a lot that wasn't who tempted us like carnival barkers and the scene was completed with  girls in bikinis posing on the bows of sleek speed boats and grisly old-salts (Bob Bitchen) one of whom I swear had a wooden peg-leg.  Land Shark Beer had a rest area complete with cold beer and great beach chairs and the Florida Lottery commission was selling lotto tickets and dreams at every corner.  We looked at many cats, seriously  considered buying one through a charter company and putting it into charter service for five years but alas, my lotto luck was not with me (nor has it ever been) and the 56K needed as a down payment was beyond the balance in our check book.  Then each night, after our senses and feet could take no more it was off to the cultural roux that is South Beach; something right out of a Carl Hiaasen novel or Dave Barry feature.   The one negative of the experience was it was cold!  Damn cold with a northern front pushing through that brought extreme wind and rain one night.   Like all good things, it had to come to an end and life back in Lubbock beckoned so off we went, but still to come that summer waited a 10-day bareboat charter on s/v Birds Nest, a Lagoon 380 in Tortola BVI.
 None of us had ever been to the BVIs so a decision was made to stay on land a few days prior to our charter and enjoy what the island had to offer.  This meant finding affordable lodging.  We tend to book charters in the off-season, in this case the middle of the hurricane season.  There are several reasons we do this but the primary is that it is considerably cheaper.   In the Abaco's life seemed to go on at the same pace, hurricane season or not, in the BVIs however, most locals close down shop and head off island.  So I found this place to stay, The Jolly Rodger(JR) which had a restaurant and bar attached and  I paid extra for an air conditioned room (meaning it blew warm air instead of hot).  I got what information I could from online sources and it looked like it might be ok, and while not "cheap" was far less than the other resorts or hotels.  After a long and expensive cab ride from the airport on the north end of the island to the JR on the south end we settled in.  We were all very crowded in one room so since they had no one else staying there they offered us a second room; later I found it was not out of the goodness of their heart but the benefit of their pocket.  While we were having dinner at the aforementioned restaurant, the waiter said there was a party that night and for $20 you could drink all you want since they were closing the bar down as well as the restaurant down the next day; we had three more nights booked.  When I booked the room (now rooms) I was assured that they would not be closing down until 1 August at which time we would be on our charter.  Seems they decided to close early since business was slow.  This left us without food, drink, or any type of services for the next three days with the closest restaurant a 30+ min. (each way) walk along a dusty, buggy, and dark road.  We survived and had an adventure that included a grueling blister-inducing walk over the hill to a beautiful beach and a very kind beach vendor who offered us a ride back to the JR.  We rented a jeep, toured the twisty-turney island roads, and learned to drive on the left side, mostly.  The day before we were to start our charter we stopped by BareCat whom we were chartering from and after hearing what we had gone through the past several days invited us to move aboard Birds Nest early so that afternoon we used the rented jeep to shuttle all our stuff from the JR  to the s/v Birds Nest.   Along with it being the start of the offseason, also the Emancipation Week celebration resulted in a more difficult and time consuming process for returning the jeep that turned into a larger than expected bill for the cab ride back to the boat, but we were one-step closer to being on the water.  The take-a-way from this experience is that if you intend to spending some relaxing time before your charter don't go cheap, go with a resort of hotel that is a known quantity, your crew will thank you in the long run and your stress level will be much reduced.
For all the BVIs are not like the Bahamas, they do have catering to the chartering industry down since this is where it originated.  Provisioning the boat is one of the most thankless jobs there is and one in which the person doing the provisioning is often blamed for not getting the right stuff, or enough of this or that.  You have to go to a market (usually several) arrange for a cab and try and get your frozen and cold items back to the boat before they are neither frozen or cold.  Some charter companies offer to provision the boat for you for a fee but that has never appealed to me.  In the BVIs, several of the markets offer a delivery service, for free (well you should tip the delivery guy); we used Bobby's Market and are quite pleased.  How it works is a week or so before your charter you go online and fill out a form with all your requests, whatever you wish for the time you are there, give them your CC information and they fill it as close as possible.  Then at an approximate time (it is Island Time, mon) the stuff shows up at your charter vessel and you unload the food, beer, sodas, more beer, rum, well you get the idea and the delivery guy takes the cardboard boxes away.  Note: cardboard onboard equals roaches onboard so no cardboard of any kind is allowed.  You can rent about any water toy you want, including dive gear or in our case a hammock and even rent a local pre-paid cell phone.  So the morning of the charter the provisions arrived, the hammock arrived, we received our walk-thru and briefing which consisted of telling us where we could go and where we couldn't and  what to look out for.  The BVIs are comprised of the main island of Tortola that has a basic north-east to south-west orientation with a series of islands on the Atlantic side roughly south-east and one main island towards the west.   The body of water between Tortola and the islands to the south-east is the Sir Francis Drake Channel.   Now if the name, Sir Francis Drake sounds familiar then you are either a British Naval history buff or fan of swashbuckler pirate movies; that would be me.  For those of you who are neither he is described by the Google as a sea captain, navigator, slaver, and privateer; that is a sanctioned pirate by one government usually to pillage another countries ships, think of them as a government contractor.  While the English see him as a hero, the Spanish wanted to hang him as a pirate.  Yes my friends, this is the real Pirates of the Caribbean part of the world, replete with the real Dead Chest, so yo-ho-ho, here we go!
We motored out of the protected cove that was charter base to BareCat into a 25knt wind.  There is a saying that the wind is either too light or too strong but always from the wrong direction and this was the case.  Instead of beating into the wind inducing even more queasiness in daughter #2 we motored across to Soldiers Bay and grabbed a mooring.  Ah moorings!  In the Abaco's we had anchored everywhere with rare exceptions.   There the islands are low and the water depths are relatively shallow and the seabed is mostly sand and turtle grass.  It's what you might think of when you picture an island in the Caribbean or South Pacific.   However, the islands that make up the windward and leeward islands of the Caribbean, including the BVI, are volcanic in nature (some still active) with very deep harbors and for the most part coral seabed.    Anchoring in coral is never ok since it kills the coral, which is the heart and lungs of the ocean.  Therefore, throughout the islands the anchorages are placed and allegedly maintained mooring buoys to which, for a fee, you can tie your vessel.  It is not as easy as it sounds and takes coordination between the helmsman (who is usually the man/captain) and the happy hooker (usually the spouse/admiral) so if you want to play 'happy hooker and the boat boy' later in your cabin you should not take on the persona of Captain Bligh during this process.  Watching other people attempt to pick up a mooring can be an entertaining way to spend your cocktail hours.  We got pretty good at mooring and there wasn't as much shouting as expected or predicted. We worked our way from anchorage to anchorage, hit the popular spots such as the Baths (where parts of the Johnny Depp movies really were filmed) and Willie T's (a floating Bacchanal) and docked a cat for the first time by ourselves; three times!  As I had mentioned it was offseason so many of the on shore diversions were closed but also gone were the crowds of bareboat sailors, credit card captains, and cruise ships that dominate the waters during the winter.   We sailed on to Cane Garden Bay just like in the Jimmy Buffett song and drank the Foxy's Firewater Rum that Kenny Chesney sings about and drank a lot of Carib Beer and good cheap rum.  Once Daughters' # 1&2 got over their displeasure of being denied their cell phones they began to enjoy themselves.  Still seeking their independence from mom & dad I decided to let them take the dink ashore to Pussers at Marina Cay once we had snagged a mooring and the deck was swabbed (yes I am that captain).   Jo had gone below for a nap and I had cut the auxiliary engines.  Daughter 1 & 2 got gussied-up and with spending cash in hand (shopping after all) they were ready to go.  As I have explained in past blogs, the dinghy is akin to the family car and like the family car; it is hard to get it from point A to B without the engine, outboard in this case.  Yes you could row it and with an inflatable dinghy you would be just as successful as pushing your car down the street.  The big difference here however, is the dinghy will go on its own willy-nilly at the whims and forces of current and wind.   For this reason, it is best to start the boats family car while the painter (the line you use to tie and tow the dinghy) is still attached to the mother ship.  Well you know what happened next, right, they couldn’t get the outboard started but had already untied the painter and off they drifted.  Now this was the first of many bad decisions that were to be made that day.  As I watched them drift away and shouting instructions, I had two, well maybe three options.  One really good and prudent something a good captain would do, the other ok but not as fast, and the third one.  Option one would be, start the engines, cast off the mooring bridle and go retrieve the daughters and as sound as this might have been it didn't come to me at all.  Option two would involve getting on the radio and calling for assistance, ok help.  Now I did consider this but decided on option three; captain hero dad!   Now in preparation for my cruising life I had gotten a gym membership and actually went 3-4 days a week for the past two years and I was in pretty good shape for a ageing fat man, so of course it was time to channel my inner Johnny Weissmuller and dive into the ocean, swim to the daughters and save the day, except, well I had seriously misjudged their distance and drifting speed and my physical abilities.  As daughter #2 put it "daddy you just kept disappearing behind the waves" while in reality I was in the trough between waves but it was humbling.  Luckily, for all involved, there were several boats coming in and one plucked me out of the ocean and went to retrieve the arrant dinghy.  Unfortunately,   mom did not sleep through the commotion and was waiting for us when we were dropped off by the other boat.  I do believe this is where daughter #2 developed the philosophy that if you were going to be in trouble, get yourself in said trouble when another around you was in more trouble; in this case, that would be me.  Shore leave was canceled for all, needless to say.
From there we headed to Virgin Gorda first to the Baths then into Spanish Town to replace the bucket the daughters lost over board, which, as we all know it is bad luck to kick the bucket.  From there off to Saba Rock in Gorda Sound.  This proved to be one of the nicer places to stay complete with up to 60 gallons of free water with your mooring.  We also had a free drink coupon from the bar, they had hammocks for their guests under swaying palms, and did I mention the free drink coupon.  The next morning rose on my birthday and to celebrate we left the protection of the Drake Channel and skirted Sir Richard Branson's Private Island (Necker Island) out into the Atlantic for a run down the outside complete with a following sea and seasick daughter #2 who after a Dramamine slept the day away.  We surfed down the waves and I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday.  That night we ended up in the Bight at Norman Island for an evening at the infamous Willy T's and even thought I came home with a T-Shirt, I did not get it for free by jumping naked off the upper deck.  The next morning, was time to fuel the boat up clean her up and return her to her caregivers.  The BVIs held many other wonderful experiences ranging from dodging jellyfish while snorkeling to the self-service bar and wonderful people at Sidney's Peace & Love in Little Harbor Jost Van Dyke.  A cab ride to the airport, a night spent in Puerto Rico followed by a long flight home and we felt one-step closer to our dream. 
Next time, back to the BVI's, introducing friends to cruising, 2 weeks just the two of us, and for our last sailing trip to date.     

 

 Photos From Getting Ready Part 9

Sailing in Tampa:

Captain Tracey


 
Bob... I Think
Jo along for the ride



 

Sailing in the BVIs:

 
Sunset at the Bight, Norman Island
Two little monkeys  sharing a hammock



PDA at Manchioneel Bay, Cooper Island Beach Club 


That's just living life on Saba Rock
Sidney's Peace & Love

Mom & the white bellied child at the Baths

At The Baths Daughter #2
At the Baths Daughter #1





Ours is the sub-compact dinghy
 
Nap Time at Cane Garden Bay


Mom's turn in the hammock
I sense a theme  



Get Your Guns Up in the BVIs

Sailing into the deep blue

Sister Selfie

 




Mooring receipt for the day of my birth


Caribbean AC



 
What is the drinking age in the BVIs

 


One Too Many Pain Killer?

 





How did they get my copy of Drinking Man's Guide to the BVIs?





Sailing on the outside with a following sea on my 53'd birthday


Last Night; But First....Willy T's
 

I Hear It Gets Better, That's What They Say As Soon As You've Sailed On To Cane Garden Bay