|
5 March 2004 navigating the high seas |
|
|---|---|
|
|
previous chapter back to index next chapter
Chapter 1: Buying a Craft and Exploring a Flat Soggy State (March 5)
The weeks that preceded and followed my last day at work were consumed by an intensive telephone-and-internet campaign to find a suitable sailboat. Starting from scratch with only a rudimentary understanding of even how sailing works, I absorbed everything I could, from Jim's own knowledge and books to the unlimited and unorganized resources and experts of the internet.
We peeled through Boat Trader Online to create a list of boats in Florida that seemed to fit our budget (in the neighborhood of $5000) and size (24-30 feet) requirements. Those two factors were all we really had to go on, while there is so much more that goes into choosing a craft suitable for open ocean cruising. Some boats are great racers, but would collapse in heavy water like a Palestinian orphanage under an Israeli bulldozer. Others are built like bomb shelters but sail worse than garbage trucks. Certain manufacturers may have made fine craft for decades, but for some reason their 1974-1977 models should be avoided like the plague. Draft is a major issue in Florida and the Bahamas, as the water is so shallow that any boat drawing more than 4 feet will have a hell of a time not making love to rocks and coral. And on. And on.
Also of heavy consideration was what necessary equipment was already included with the boat. What looks like a money-saving budget boat may actually cost and extra $4000 before she is actually ready for cruising. So for every boat we figured an adjusted cost based on what we would expect to add (GPS, solar panels, extra sails, etc.) before departure.
Once we had a list of what looked like about ten potential candidates, I flew to Florida with a digital camera, Jim's copy of "Inspecting the Aging Sailboat", and a goal of returning a week later as a boat owner.
Florida is an oddity. The air is wet, the land is wet, the people are wet. God laid out this phallic peninsula in the days previous to inventing such modern complexities as elevation change and soy milk. The state is governed by a sociopath and local officials do all they can to prevent votes of dissent from being counted.
In Madeline L'Engle's "A Wrinkle in Time", our childhood heroes find themselves on the planet Camazotz which, since being consumed by a dark evil cloud, is ruled by a disembodied brain called IT. IT keep the planet in strict conformity, and a drive through any neighborhood reveals miles upon miles of identical houses, and the families within retain none of their individuality. This image has stuck in my brain since childhood as the horror of suburbia, and this image is alive and active in Florida. I thought I'd seen the worst of suburban sprawl here in California but nothing could have prepared me for the mindless homogeneity that is Florida's suburbia. Faster than the rainforests are being replaced by logging efforts, the vast Everglades are being replaced with zone upon zone of gated cookie-cutter housing developments and strip malls. Want a cute, walkable neighborhood with a coffee shop, movie theatre, and maybe a grocer? Forget it. Go to Walmart, or drive on down to the AMC, conveniently located near Target AND Costco.
Ponce De Leon came to Florida seeking the Fountain of Youth and testament to its non-existence is the thick geriatric fog that has descended onto the land, filling every nook of the state with shuffling, mumbling, slow-moving blue-haired ladies. Everywhere you turn, whether on foot, bike, car, or boat, you are met with the progress-impeding Elderly Wall. Every other car has a sticker that says "Nice and easy" or "Once day at a time", and the only way to avoid driving yourself into a certain madness is to take this advice and move slowly, becoming one with the fog. Florida has the air of being a place where people come (albeit happily) to relax themselves to death.
But woven into this web of stagnancy are striking anomalies, some very interesting people and places. I discovered several in my 7-day whirlwind tour of the state. I talked to crusty old sailors, confident brokers, Jimmy Buffett's modern-day ambassadors, a 29-year-old on his 19th boat, drug runners, harbor masters, yacht clubbers and racers, boat builders, and an inventor/luther (my Uncle Phil), gathering information and advice on boats and cruising. I heard stories about real Pirates of the Caribbean, ate Thai food, drove 80 miles straight through swamp (twice), endured torrents and gale-force winds, and slept among the largest colony of stray cats in the solar system. I pleased a sleepy bar with my upbeat jukebox choices, I saw two surreal lines of helmeted senior citizens on Segway tours. But most importantly, I shopped for boats.
I ended up inspecting 7 boats and owners/brokers in total:
They were all over the scale in size, quality and cleanliness. Some were meticulously cared for while others had sat dead in the water for years. Some were like spacious hotels inside, and some were, well, let's say better suited for elitists such as ourselves.
Craig was selling the Yankee 30 since his dream of cruising with his teenage son died with his son two years ago. 29 year-old Scott (with six years left to live before Hutchinson's takes him) found that he and his wife Beth's baby son just wasn't cut out for life on the Cal or the Morgan. Dan liked his sailing-phobic girlfriend more than his Yankee Dolphin. Aeolus's owner was just too old to sail anymore. Mark is selling the Ericson to raise funds to get the family business off its feet-- building small boats for handicapped sailors (his parents and siblings are now all dead or too crippled to continue the business). And the Kiwis who brought the Grampian up from the Caribbean went home to get married.
I photographed and inspected all these boats to the best of my abilities, emailed the photos to Jim, and then he and I deliberated for hours via phone. Eventually we chose the Dolphin. It was the right boat from the start. While being on the cramped side (it was the smallest boat on our list), the Dolphin has a reputation for being a sturdy boat that sails well and holds up to heavy weather. I have read accounts of them being sailed all over the world. The shallow draft (2'10" but with a centerboard that drops down to 5') makes it ideal for the shallow shoals of the Bahamas. In addition, the owner (a fantastic man named Dan Levinson) takes care of boats for a living and has been meticulous with this one. It is in fantastic shape, and doesn't look any older than the ten years he has owned it.
We made the decision
when I was in Tampa, and I headed immediately
(I noticed something else mechanically exciting at the boatyard. They have forklifts that can pluck a considerably large boat right out of the water!)
The speedometer stopped working recently. Whether it
happened previously or during our attempts
to troubleshoot it, we found the cable that connects th
Dan has been fantastic through
this entire process. He is very honest and it is
I have left the boat in Dan's care and returned to San Diego. Over the next three weeks Jim and I will tied up our loose ends here and on March 25 we head to Florida with one-way tickets to prepare the boat, gather supplies, and take it for a test spin in the Keys...
|
