Fresh Out of the Box

A Shake-Down, Break-Down Cruise

PREFACE

I started this log as a way to record my thoughts and the events occurring during my participation in the voyage of Misty from Panama to Zihuatanejo in Mexico the winter of 2002 The format was simple with no attempt to pretty up the text or to provide explanation to casual readers of the notes.

However, as many friends and acquaintances became interested in the notes I have expanded them to include more explanation and more information about people and events. The idea is to make this log enjoyable and interesting to those who may not know me personally or who are not familiar with sailing or the geography of Misty's travel.

The events are factual, however I've taken some liberties in the interest of "poetic license" and in the interest of humor. Some events have been carried to an "ad absurdum" length or in some cases to fantastical conclusions. Anyway, let's see how it all comes out…

I've added a few comments after the fact with angle brackets <>

 

Sacramento to Panama

MARCH 20, '02 WEDNESDAY

Ordered a couple of fancy fishing lures and some tackle as a boat gift and possibly something that would contribute to our ability to snag a few dorado or wahoo on the sail north. Also heard from Dennis Greathouse, Phil's yacht broker, who is sending two zincs and a bilge pump switch. Tried to query Phil about the bilge pump, but the email didn't go through.

I have little doubt that any little problems should be able to be taken care of in Panama. <Ah, what prophetic words!>

Let's see if I can explain to myself how I really feel about this trip. It has been a long time since I have been able to really do something at all adventurous. I really do need that. For me the sailing trip is not a typical vacation with idyllic sailing through azure waters. It is more like a visit to a home at which I spent the better part of my adulthood. I don't expect it to be easy or smooth, but it may very well be all of that. Even with the email contact I know that I will have that real separation from the unreal world that let's me know that I am truly away from it all and cannot physically be suddenly back even in the most extreme emergency. On this voyage it will often be a matter of days not hours required to return.

I will be able to "let go". I don't really fear that somehow business will fall apart when I'm not there. My only fear business wise is that Jana will take on too much. Maybe I'm wrong there and I hope so. I don't really care what the amount of business is that is done while I'm gone. All I really hope for is for things to continue reasonably smoothly. By the time I get back I will be well ready to be back and will probably have a million ideas of how to supercharge the business.

MARCH 22, FRIDAY

Down to the last day before catching the plane and there are still a lot of things left undone. Still, most everything seems to be provided for. All that really remains is to pack and to hope that the zincs and bilge pump get here as planned.

MARCH 23 5 PM It's very uncrowded and quiet in the waiting lounge at Sacramento International. Although I expected long lines and many hassles, the check-in procedure was simple enough.

Jana cried when we parted in the parking lot and I feel a little choked up as I sit here at the Sacramento Airport thinking about it. We really haven't been apart for more than a few days at a time since we started living together and I know that this particular excursion seems dangerous. Of course it is more dangerous than some things but probably not as much as she thinks.

Jana is truly one of the most extraordinary women I've ever met. We've formed a strong bond of love, affection and mutual respect. I know she would sacrifice almost anything for me and I hope she knows that I feel just as strongly. I think we are both very lucky to have found each other as life partners so late in life. We're together because we both really want to be.

In a way I'm looking forward to the next 24 hours which will undoubtedly be long and uncomfortable. It will give me a chance to shift gears, to order my thoughts about many things, to retaste the vitality and excitement of venturing to sea where the impersonal might of nature is only an eyeblink away.

It will give me a chance to get into the rhythm of writing again. I'm going to write anecdotally and try to put my thoughts down as soon as they appear and worry about editing and refining later.

Through a phone call to one of the crew that left the boat in Grand Cayman I got part of the story of the first part of the voyage, Miami to Isla Mujeres in Mexico.

The process of getting Misty built, outfitted and in the water must have been monumentally frustrating for Phil. When he finally found himself with boat, crew and a time schedule in Miami, it's no surprise that he decided to leave in marginal weather. So with a boat "fresh out of the box" Misty started the first leg of her voyage, Southwest to Isla Mujeres in Mexico.

The winds were fair and the seas were following if a bit energetic.

<I'm making a few speculations derived from what I heard about this first leg of the trip to set the stage>

"Following sea", however, doesn't really do the sea state justice. The waves followed and passed Misty shouldering her first from the stern and then from the bow as they passed. The helmsmen felt each 16 foot wave that passed as a breath taking ascent as the stern was forced to the right and then to the left as the bow was forced in the opposite direction. As the helmsmen caught the rhythm of the movement they found they could hold the boat steady on course only by applying first right rudder and then left immediately afterward.

The constant working of the steering mechanism finally worked loose a poorly adjusted linkage.

"Phil," shouted the helmsman, "we've lost steering."

The huge waves continued their rude shoving and shortly Misty turned beam on to their path and was rolling steeply. The search for the emergency tiller finally uncovered it at the bottom of the sail locker. The tiller arm was inserted in its place on the rudder post and Misty was once again under control, albeit at the cost of lots of muscle applied by the helmsmen.

Now what to do. Turning back for Miami was the first thought of the skipper but the thought of beating against those marching towers of water quickly quashed that idea.

A discussion with a passing fishing boat resulted in Misty following the boat into Key West where the rudder was repaired and the voyage resumed.

After four exhausting days for the crew, Misty reached her first destination, Isla Mujeres, a quaint island off the shore of the Mexican Yucatan peninsula. Isla Mujeres was the first tourist destination in the Yucatan that became an "in" spot for Mexicophiles in the 20s. It is still much as it was 30 years ago with small hotels, shops and lovely beaches. By day in the season hundreds of tourists ferry out to the island for the day, but the real action starts in the evening when the day tourists leave and the residents and resident tourists gather at the beaches and the outdoor cafes to pay homage to the sun and to relax with a margarita or tequila con sal y limón.

Slave to the schedule supplied the insurance company that called for the boat arriving in Panama on the 22d, Misty got underway the next morning and found herself fighting headwinds. Motoring was unpleasant but the only option if the time schedule was to be met. Now those following seas and winds didn't seem so bad because the new combination was head winds and waves and current opposing Misty's course.

The passage was uneventful. Well, aside from taking on water due to a faulty installation of a depth sounder transmitter; the subsequent failure of the automatic bilge pump switch; the failure of the main bilge pump; the necessity of bailing out the bilges with bucket and teacup; and almost running out of fuel. Grand Cayman did seem a welcome site, however, when it appeared on the horizon.

Victor, one of the crew, due to press of business, had to debark on Little Cayman to await an outgoing plane. The remaining crew set off for Providencia, an island belonging to Colombia. All went well on this leg. Well, aside from the failure of the single sideband radio the steaming light, deck light and the satellite phone along with very rough seas.

BACK TO THE LOG

That was terrific -- how easy it was going through the checks in Sacramento. Got the luggage checked all the way through to Panama and the ticket agent even told me I wouldn't have to check in to get more boarding passes all the way to Panama <Ha!>. The flight was smooth and even arrived in LA 15 minutes early.

I took a leisurely stroll to the International terminal and found Mexicana. Checked the board, noted my gate and went to the checkpoint.

Whoops, there seems to be a line. Oh, well, I've got three hours more or less so this should be a piece of cake. I begin walking to the end of the line. I walk and I walk and after a while I see where the line snakes out one of the doors and eventually I find the end. What the hell I've got lots of time. I patiently wait as my line moves forward and finally I am again at the check point.

"Sorry, sir, you need a boarding pass." The security guard smiles helpfully.

"But they gave it to me in Sacramento. It must be there!" I whine.

Consultation with several other uniforms...

"Sorry, but you just go over there at the end of the counter and tell them that security sent you to get your boarding pass."

OK. I do what he says.

"Sorry sir the computer is down. It shouldn't be long. Please wait over there in that line."

"The one where everyone has 18 giant boxes and 4 little kids?"

"Yes, sir, that's the one. It won't be long."

"What the hell, I've got plenty of time." I sigh to myself and resignedly shuffle over to the line indicated.

Now the line really smokes! It goes at least as fast as an ant trapped in a honey pot. What the hell! I've still got some time. Don't I?

Get to the counter and a young señorita happily fixes me a boarding pass. I ask her for one for Mexico City also but she regretfully tells me that is impossible and I'll have to check in again in Mexico for the leg to Panama. I try to control my tears.

"Do you have any luggage?" she asks.

"I checked it through in Sacramento."

"Didn't they give you a luggage tag," she asks reaching for a box of tissues she has at her side and slides it in my direction.

"No, nothing," I said. Mercifully she made no comment but simply looked at me with eyes reserved for helpless gringo victims. She hands me my boarding pass in a folder and Lo! there is also a pass for Mexico.

I shuffle off to try the line again. It is still where I left it, about 10 yards beyond the door. OK, I can do this again. After all, I'm a veteran. Hoo Yah!

The line has slowed down a bit so it takes a while, but I endure and even trade spirited banter with a guy who is traveling to Sydney to sell microwave towers. Then we reach the checkpoint again.

Not just a little proudly I hand the gatekeeper my boarding pass.

"Sorry sir, you need a boarding pass from Los Angeles to Mexico City."

I step aside stunned and look at my pass. It is indeed from Mexico to Panama not LAX to Mexico. Feverishly I rummage through my pack and voilá I find the right one.

Now I'm through the check point except... The next line is to go through the security check, but what the hell, I've still got almost an hour. No sweat.

Well, I'm sitting here in the waiting area writing and furtively looking around to see if there might be a terrorist who could cause an 8 hour delay. What the hell, I've got seven weeks.

LA BELLA CIUDAD DE MÉXICO

Uneventful flight. Arrived about 3:30 AM Auburn time. 5:30 local. Connection to Panama City at 9:05 AM

Since I hadn't been issued a luggage tag I was unsure that the bag was checked through so I waited a while to see if it would appear on the carousel. After a while I asked one of the officials lounging at an unoccupied desk and he reassured me that I needn't worry so I went to the Mexicana check in area. As I arrived I looked over the seething mass of humanity crammed into the half acre or so of floorspace. The tears began to well up in my eyes and I asked the lady controlling the entrance to this cattle pen if it was necessary to check in. She said yes at first but as I waved my hard won boarding pass she relented and told me it was OK to go to the gate. I fell to my knees and said six hail Marys and dedicated them to that merciful ticket agent in LAX who went out of her way to push the right button and get me the pass. I got up just as the emergency response team arrived with oxygen, a stretcher and a complimentary tequila sal y limón. Well, maybe I was a little hallucinatory by then. We'll never know.

Anyway after only going through two security check-ins one womanned by a lady doing her nails and another manned by a functionary with his eyes firmly fixed on a hovering moth, I was at the waiting lounge with only 1 hour to spare. About that time the cafe opened and I was able to get a roll, coffee and Gatorade for a measly $4.

I'm pretty sure I got a couple hours sleep on the flight from LA. Blessedly they were showing a movie through TV type monitors fastened to the overhead and so I was able to play with the volume and channel buttons pretending that they were a remote and the movie was on TV. Falling asleep was no problem.

I don't think my neighbors in the immediate vicinity slept as well as I did though because as I awakened there was no one within ten feet of me and everyone was looking at me as though I were a runaway buzz saw. I might have been snoring....(just kidding, jet engines are even louder than me, well, not much but some.)

I should do ok until Panama. This is the time I usually get up in the morning and the morning high should keep me going until this afternoon. The next challenge will be if the bag does not arrive in Panama. God how I love economy plane travel!!  Next