maverick dream

new year...

2011-01-15T21:50:00.000-08:00

Well..it has been an eventful 3 weeks, with Thomas and family... 9 people on board most of the time...so the watermaker and generator got a good workout... we did a full circuit of phuket, west coast then around Phang Nga and then down to Koh Muk where the emerald cave is located...

Was thinking over the boat fittings, and I am going to replace all the lights (all 53 of them) with a special LED fitting that takes 20% of the power of the current halogen lights (.1 amp instead of .5 amps). Then I have to fix my bedroom large hatch which is leaking when it rains...and then there are all the toilet pipes to replace...

Anyway, back moored off Patong Beach, where I have good wifi access AND 3G, so I can work on my latest internet project (miskio.com). I shall be leaving yacht in a week to go up to CHiang Rai and Bangkok for a week, then back to sailing and working later in January.

Happy new year to everyone!

back in Phuket...

2010-12-14T21:37:00.000-08:00

So after leaving the boat for a while in Langkawi, in the very capable hands of Paul and Sheila at Nautical Bits, I took off for Phuket on my own. I was going to go directly to Koh Lipe which is about 4 hours form Langkawi, but I changed my mind since the sea was calm and headed to Koh Rok Nai and got there at midnight and just dropped anchor. I've done this a couple of times before, as I normally do't like to arrive somewhere in the middle of the night if I don't know it. I'm used to the hundreds of fishing boats out there on the trip up, but still have to be constantly aware of the large fishing buoys that I get to see at the last second and avoid. Sometimes they show up on radar so that helps a bit..:)

On to Ao Chalong, and found on checkin the day was a public holiday although not sure what holiday (10 Dec), so had to pay over time of about 1,000 baht (about $35), for immigration and customs.

Ao Chalong hasn't change much..although I've noticed a trend for bars to have a massage shop at the back for those little backrubs. Villa Market is probably the only reason I stick around there to get my European food shopping done. Expensive but good cheeses, fish and meat and a large selection of wine from all over the place.

I'm with Ae, a friend from Bangkok for the next few days and then Thomas and family arrive for Christmas from Australia...so there will 8 on the boat. Should be fun.

Right now tho, I am stuck in the marina for a couple of days, due to a fried starter motor. Always something to fix..:-) - Getting into the Boat Lagoon marina is difficult...very shallow, and only at high tide...and even so I still got stuck and had to be pulled off using the pilot boat...he was my second engine since that engine was out.

back in Langkawi and the boat is for sale...

2010-01-26T22:44:00.001-08:00

I am back in Langkawi now, and the boat is up for sale for $500k if anyone is interested..:-)...I'm here for a couple more days then onto Phuket to help open a new massage salon, and then onto Philippines to set up a call centre...should be fun..:-)

sailing around Phuket

2010-01-06T06:47:00.001-08:00

Hope everyone had a good time over Christmas and New Year...I spent Christmas day on "The Beach"...the same one that was in the film... and then sailed up to Yacht Haven and left the boat there for a week while I went to Patong for New Years Eve and the fireworks..

Now about to head around the islands of Phang Nga. I hope the 7 inch tear I just repaired in the dinghy holds up...I shall be back next Monday to pick up my refurbished dinner table and then spend the next couple of weeks slowly wending my way back down to Langkawi...

Maverick Dream sleeping in Langkawi

2009-10-27T18:00:00.000-07:00

MD is now in the marina at Langkawi, looked after by Paul and Sheila who do that sort of thing from a small shop there. It's up for sale, although don't mind of it does not sell...will keep on sailing..:-)

I'm back in Australia for a while, so no one is living on board right now..Louis has gone back to Europe to sort out his life, and the girls are in Australia looking for work to save money to travel around Europe next year.

I'll probably be back on board in late December or early January, for high season sailing around Thailand and Langkawi...

Thailand

2009-09-17T22:41:00.000-07:00

We're back in Thailand..or at least the boat is. I've taken the 2 girls on a tour of Phuket and Bangkok and currently in Chiang Mai. It's Stephanie's job is to update the blog, but I'd thought I would give an update to let all know where we are and what's up. I'm writing this from the hotel, the girls are off today trekking, bamboo rafting and elephant riding...I am sure some pictures will surface here at some point..:-)

Plan is to head back down to the boat next week and get some sailing done around the islands - hope weather is going to improve - far too much rain..:-)

Penang

2009-08-29T00:00:00.000-07:00

29th August

It is definitely cooler up here in Penang, Malaysia…In fact so much cooler that I actually wore jeans the other day! However, it has been raining for a few days which has *forced* Lyssa and me to spend most of our time in various shopping malls. It’s a hard life. The rain has stopped for now so we are going to take this opportunity to explore Penang a little more, although we will probably just stick to the area around the marina as Penang is much bigger that I expected!
Last night Lyssa and I went out for the first time to the QEII bar on the marina side where we watched the semi-finals of Mr Penang, Hottest Hunk! Wow it was great. Watching about 40 local guys parading around in their (small) underwear and posing oh so seriously really did make my night. Uh huh. We hung around until the party finally started and even then it was slow to get going! Lyssa found some fellow Ozzys dancing on the stage so there were only about 8 of us dancing on the stage until the booze started to kick in and more people joined us. I can safely say that Lyssa and I were the most sober people there as there were a few strange drinking games going on…We finally got back to the boat at about 3.30 with sore feet and yucky hair but it was all good. Today is a lazy day with washing and showering and chilling in the boaters lounge on the marina. Exploring comes later when it cools down a bit! And then out again at about 9! If Uncle Mark is feeling better I’m sure that he will be joining us to show us (or me anyway!) how ‘it’ is done.
love to all
Steph xxx

Singapore update by Stephanie

2009-08-19T00:25:00.000-07:00

It certainly is a very full boat here with Alyssa and me as the recent additions to Maverick Dream! Alyssa arrived on the 9th and I arrived shortly after on the 10th. My initial reaction to Singapore was the heat! It hits you like a brick wall when you leave the air con it feels like breathing through damp cotton wool. We have had a busy week exploring parts of Singapore including drinking Singapore Slings in the Raffles Hotel;

Our days are mostly filled with visiting the swimming pool, morning, lunch and dinner without fail. I am going a lovely brown colour but Lys with her uber fair skin tone is going red. Or burnt. Either way people were stopping to look at her in the street.

(Pre-burn)

Yesterday Lys and I visited Chinatown and Little India towards the evening when it is much cooler here. We found that Little India was the more interesting of the two with more smells and little stalls wheras Chinatown was much of a muchness with similar shops and places to eat. It was in Chinatown that Lys decided that one nose piercing wasn’t enough and in a single, spontaneous move found a tattoo shop that would do it for her. The fact that the woman could speak barely any English should have been an indication to run for the hills, but no, they looked clean enough so Lys decided to go for it. Well. I shouldn’t laugh but it was a little amusing when she emerged with a huge stud in her nose…along with the sunburn she looked like the ultimate tourist. However I shouldn’t laugh too much as I am suffering from mozzie bites. I should take pride in the blood that I am producing as no-one else seems to be bitten at all!
The food here can only be described in one word – interesting. There is a mix of Thai, Chinese and a little Indian but a large amount of it is fish. Lys and I visited a huge food court with tiny stalls where you buy the food you want and then sit in a communal eating area. It is an experience but I’m sure my palate will soon adapt. Lys in true Ozzie fashion shovels everything down with little complaint. She does cook exceptionally well though. I sampled her french toast earlier today…mmmm!
We have also been let loose on the cinema in Vivocity which is a huge shopping mall. The adverts are the best bit… “My name…is Nicole” Snigger. “Turn it off or she’ll chop off!” Enough said.

Well…we are disappearing into the midday sun tomorrow to sail up to Thailand, dodging all of the cargo ships and oil tankers…so will update when we get there, but some pictures for now, the Aisian signs keep us amused!

(Lys, Helena and me!)

(Riiiiiiiight…)

Singapore

2009-07-13T08:10:00.000-07:00

MD is now in One 15 Marina in Singapore, after having picked me up in Phuket, stopping off in Langkawi. I'm back in Australia till 20th July, then back onboard. We'll be there for the next few weeks waiting for Stephanie, my niece who is arriving in August and another 18 year old from Australia (Alyssa) is joining us so it will be a full boat for a while..:-). I'll update the site from Singapore when we start to make a move...maybe take some pictures cos it's getting boring with only text..:-)

en route to Langkawi

2009-06-05T18:53:00.001-07:00

Louis and Francis got to Darwin, and then left on Wed 3 June, heading directly to Langkawi with no stops. At least that's the plan. I shall join them there in a couple weeks.

on the way to Asia

2009-05-11T09:24:00.000-07:00

Haven't updated a for a while now. I'm in Mallorca for the present, but Louis and Francis are en route to Cairns and then onto Darwin. I'm flying out to to Australia end of May, and join the boat first week in June to set off for Singapore.

Louis reported a broken rudder pin that needed replacing in Bundaberg - good job it happened close to land...and of course, good job it's a catamaran, and we have 2 of a lot of things..:-)

Right now they should be around Lady Musgrave Island, or perhaps further north at the Whitsundays. I shall report as soon as they get somewhere and send me email.

cheers to all
mark

Louis and Francis back on board

2009-03-12T16:48:00.001-07:00

Louis and Francis are back on board MD, getting the boat ready for the trip up the coast of Australia, leaving end of March, and apparently looking for a "mother figure who can do watches as well" - I think they must miss home cooking..:-)

I'm over in Europe for the next 6 months, and then back on board when in Asia, probably Thailand but we shall see where the boat is then. I'll update the site with news as the boat travels north.

at runaway bay, boat resting

2009-01-25T19:05:00.000-08:00

MD is currently in the marina at Runaway Bay, Gold Coast, Australia. There to stay for a couple more months, till Louis and Francis come back from Europe in March/April. Then it's up through the Barrier Reef, and onto Indonesia, Singapore and Thailand. where I shall rejoin the boat in October sometime for a few months (I'll be in Mallorca working on promoting iplotz.com in Europe and moving into a new apartment). Hope there's wifi on coastal areas in Thailand, and if there is, we have a new wifi aerial installed on the mast, so should be easier to pick up a signal.

Meanwhile, Thomas and family are living on the boat till they move into the new house...but that's another story...;-)

way overdue for an update...

2009-01-02T18:19:00.000-08:00

I guess I should update Maverick Dream blog...let you all know where we are..:-)

Louis, Francis and Menno successfully sailed MD to Australia, arriving in September in Brisbane, and we docked at Dockside in the City for a couple of weeks. We took the boat down to Rivergate for antifouling, but had a small problem when the mast fell down after we loosened the forestay too much...! - Good job I had the boat insured the month before - totally destroyed the solar panel array at the back, the bimini, the wheel, pulled out all the wiring going up the mast, ...but the mast itself was intact.

Anyway..all sorted after a month, and now the boat is at Runaway Bay marina, with Francis looking after it. Menno left to go back to Holland, and Louis shot off to Ethiopia to meet up with his better half...We should be set for sailing up the coast in April or May 2009, with the intention of heading to Indonesia and Thailand. After that, to Europe..but that's a year away!

Happy New Year everyone!

Huahine, Fare

2008-06-09T17:34:00.001-07:00

After an overnight sail to Huahine from Moorea, we've been spending the last few days surfing, windsurfing and kitesurfing. Plenty of wind, at one point too much, so we reanchored in the lee of the small island near Parea. Made some new friends, namely Atea and his 2 sons, who own part of the beachfront on Parea, and who invited us to eat and drink with them one evening. They surfed pretty much every day with us too, telling us the best breaks and problem areas.
Now we are anchored on the other side, in Fare, where there is Wifi, but lots of flies...really annoying. Not really much surf here, but still lovely. I think another day here and then off to Raitea.

engine finally working!

2008-05-25T17:36:00.001-07:00

We've been moored next to the fuel dock in Marina Taina for a couple of days, and Francis has been working to assemble the engine. After we swapped the batteries, it finally cranked and is now running smoothly. We've done a pile of shopping, Zhenya has just made us leek and potato soup to go with the rotisserie chicken, and in an hour we shall set off for one of the anchorages in Moorea which we can see from here. Nice and sunny, hardly any wind...so all systems go!

Zhenya now on board, parts as well

2008-05-23T01:14:00.001-07:00

Zhenya managed to fly out and get into Tahiti, despite not having a visa. She managed to wing it. Now we have gaskets for the heat exchanger and the cylinder head. We learned that the cylinder head was curved, so they shaved it flat and hopefully it will all work once it is all assembled. It wasn't the heat exhanger after all. Bit of a relief that we don't have to source non existent parts, at least for now.

We are now moored outside Marina Taina, and will do a big shop in Carrefour on Saturday morning before heading off to Moorea and other parts. When in a faster internet location I shall upload pictures to flickr and post links to them.

tahiti...

2008-05-21T12:01:00.001-07:00

We are now in Tahiti, moored in the Harbour. The wind changed on the day we arrived (Monday), to Northwesterly, which also brought lots of rain. It's now Wednesday, and nice and sunny.
We took the cylinder head and heat exchanger to a testing place, so they can get tested under pressure, but we are pretty sure now that it is the heat exchanger. A chap at the Volvo service centre looked at it and said that one of the exhaust vents inside was clean, which meant water and oxygen had the effect of cleaning it. We hadn't thought of that...learning again. Anyway, getting hold of one may be difficult and cost is around $3500.
We're off later today to go anchor somewhere, at least so we can swim etc. Zhenya says she will try and get here without a visa, and see if she can wing it with her Schengen visa instead, so if that works she will be here Friday and we can head off to Moorea or Bora Bora. She has been waiting for a visa for 2 weeks, and they have just said she can get it at the end of this month or take a slip of paper saying it will be issued then.
Off now to the local market, where hopefully I can get some avocados, which are huge here. If not, the chicken fajitas we are having tonight just won't be the same.

Rangiroa

2008-05-14T15:25:00.000-07:00

We learned that the parts we needed have been held up in Tahit at customs..what a surprise..:). So we left Nuku Hiva on Friday afternoon, headed to the Tuamotos, specifically Rangiroa, a 50 mile long atoll. Since it was a fairly overcast day on Friday, our batteries had not charged as much as usual, so around 3am we had to hand steer as the batteries went completely flat. Soon as the sun was up, we could use the autopilot again. Since then, no problems, and we arrived early morning on Tuesday, after a perfect sailing trip.

Spent most of the day reading a book from a hammock strung between 2 palms, and am writing this on Wednesday after diving in the Tiputa pass..great dive with sharks, turtles etc...

So..we are here for the next few days and then headed to Tahit, staying at the Taina Marina, where Zhenya will join us with spares to maybe fix the engine...

cheers form paradise!

Marquesas and no power

2008-05-09T15:52:00.000-07:00

Louis and crew arrived in Hiva Oa on 23rd April with not too much of a problem - 21 day trip , so not too bad. However, one engine wasn't working and the generator starter motor was burned up. I met them in Nuku Hiva a couple of days later, 20 minutes away from the airport in a tiny bay. It was a choice of 2000 francs to get there, or a 2 hour trip 4 wheel bumpy drive to Taioha'e on the other side for 4000 francs. Easy choice. We started looking at the problems we had on board, and ended up finding we had 2 broken alternators and no generator. So, no way of generating power to charge the batteries except the solar panels. Got Keith to order spares to get shipped to us (at a cost of $900 shipping fedex!), but as I write this on 9th May, they still have not arrived due to holdup in customs in Tahiti, so we are about to set sail for Rangiroa, which is a 45 mile long atoll, 575 miles from here on the way to Tahiti. Oh, and one engine we took apart since we discovered water in the cylinders, so it looks like a cracked cylinder wall, or cylinder head or bad gasket, although we cannot figure out what exactly is causing the problem so far, even after taking everythign apart.

During the time we have spent here, we have done a fair bit of walking - at Anaho Bay, over the mountain to the village on the other side so we could buy some food bits..not a lot to choose tho, but on the way back we managed to gather a fair amount of mangoes,coconut, bananas, passion fruit and lemons - all wild. I was reliving my youth by climbing high up a tree to shake down the mangoes..:-). Louis and Francis were up early a couple of mornings to go trawl in the dinghy for tuna, with sme success - 2 mornings they went out and brought back a large tuna each time. Have to live off the land a little, since prices are extortionate here - and you can get some thngs only when the supply boat arrives. To give you an idea, 8 apples cost $20, same for oranges. The one thing that is quite cheap is the french bread, at less than a dollar for a loaf, but oyu have to get it early otherwise they all disappear.

Anyway..will write more when we get to Rangiroa or failing that, when we arrive in Tahiti...hopefully we can get stuff fixed there. Zhenya should be arriving there on 19th May with some spares.

8 april position

2008-04-08T07:41:00.001-07:00

Got a call from Louis on board, and he is 730 miles out in the Pacific, position 04 08S, 101 28W - had wind of 30 knots yesterday and did a 175 mile day. They've had 2 x 2m marlins on the lines but when they jumped they cut the lines...too big for our rigs..;-) - Currently there is 4 knots of wind, no waves, on engines. Menno and Francis are asleep and Louis is about to cook marinated pork for dinner...and pasta and octopus for lunch...not my cup of tea those rubber things..more in a couple of days when he calls back...

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Finally off to The Marquesas

2008-04-01T18:52:00.001-07:00

Louis finally managed to get delivery of the propeller and they are off - he says it should take about 20 to 25 days to get to Hiva Oa. I'll be staying in touch from Australia via satphone, and then joining them in the Marquesas in the first week of May. I'll keep you posted over the next few weeks of their trip.

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Still in Galapagos..awaiting a propeller

2008-04-01T09:52:00.001-07:00

Maverick Dream is still in Galapagos, awaiting a new propeller. It's been over 3 weeks since it was shipped from the USA via Fedex..and still not there. Hope it doesn't take too long...

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panama canal and stuff...

2008-02-25T13:38:00.001-08:00

I've been really lazy for the last couple of months...onboard life does that to you sometimes. I had a break from sailing to head to Europe for some skiing over Christmas and new Year, then to London for Bett education tradeshow and then to Macworld in San Francisco. Headed back to the boat in late Jan in Aruba. Louis had sailed it there from St Lucia with 2 new members of the crew Pia and Baptiste (aka Bapi).

We were in Aruba for a week or so, and then picked up 2 new crew members Francis and Menno. Francis is a windsurfing and kitesurfing instructor (at 21), ever since he wentto Aruba on holiday with his parents at 17 and decided to stay there. Menno has been there 3 months and is a friend of Louis from Europe. He's interested in building wooden boats. Both are a good complement to the boat and will be sailing with Louis across the Pacific to the Marquesas.

We set out for Cartagena on 29th jan, and were there on 31. Horrible short, high waves for the later part of the trip made it little uncomfortable. Cartagena is a pretty cool place, safe for yachties. Did some kitesurfing from the beaches at Boca Grande, and tried a little salsa dancing in the clubs. Francis is learning..:-)

We spent a few days there and then headed to the San Blas Islands, where the Kuna Yala Indians live in fairly isolated islands scattered through the area along the coast of Panama. Beautiful place. We headed to Panama after a week there and settled into Shelter Bay Marina, on the other side of Colon. The second day we were going to do some provisioning but there were strikes and riots in Colon, where the strike leader was shot dead by police. Our agent, Enrique Plummer, couldn't make it that day either since all the roads were blocked from Panama. Still, the day after we managed to get some food in..all $1600 of it. Enough for a couple of months methinks..;)

Seems we might get the name, "Love Boat" since Pia went to have some stomach pains checked by a doctor and discovered she was 6 weeks pregnant! Seems they have to cut the South American tour a little bit short. They seemed happy enough with the news tho.

Transited the Panama Canal on 17th, which was interesting. Started at 7pm, took about 5 hours to go through the first 3 locks and then moored in Gatun lake, ready for a 6.30 am start the next day to transit the lake and remaining 3 locks, which took another 9 hours.

Dropped off Pia and Bapi at balboa yacht club, and this is also where I jumped ship to head back to Australia via Miami, Los Angeles and New Zealand...long flight.

So now, Louis, Menno and Francis are en route to the Marquesas, via Las Perlas islands and Galapagos. I shall join them around mid April to sail to Australia via all the islands between.

Caribbean Sailing

2008-01-06T06:41:00.000-08:00

We finally made it to St Lucia on 12th, spent a couple of days there learning how to walk on land again and meet up with Zhenya (my wife) and then set off to Martinique for a couple of days...partly to drop off keith so he could fly back to USA and partly to buy some fine French produce to top up our stores. (some nice duck foie gras and a little Sauterne..mmmm.)

After that, back to St Lucia Pitons, and head to what we thought was the airport to drop off Zhenya. Wrong end of the island, so by the time we realized, she had to get a taxi and travel at breakneck speed the length of the island to get to the plane on time.

Next day, down to Fort Vieux to drop me, my father and Tom off. Pretty lumpy getting down there, but nice on arrival. Not so many tourists down there, which makes a change.

Anyway, we left Louis in charge of the boat, while we each headed off to our destinations...my father back to Malta, Tom to Holland, and me to geneva and france for some skiing. Bit of a weather change, but have to do it. Besides, my wife booked it ages ago so who am I to argue. (she who must be obeyed...)

So now Louis is headed down the island chains, and will be in Aruba in time for me to join him late January. The onto Panama to figure out crossing the canal...a first for us. I'll update from Aruba.

strange lights and heeeewwwge fish

2007-12-11T11:33:00.001-08:00

In most cases, when one of the fishing reels starts spinning wildly, it's either Mark or Louis who grabs it first. Barry has hauled-in one or two, but he's usually in the galley. Tom loves to eat fish, but is perfectly happy to let someone else work out the details of acquisition. Having already made a bird's nest out of one reel of fishing line, I generally step away to avoid annihilating anything else. With that said, I was far and away the closest to the reel when it took off yesterday. As I jumped up to grab the rod, being extra super specially careful not to let it get pulled into the sea, Mark and Louis pulled the giant sock down from the top of the mast and over the big red spinnaker to slow the boat. The consensus was that I was reeling in a pretty good sized dorado. Having only brought in one other dorado, I was in no position to argue. All I knew for certain was that this fish was not nearly as willing to go quietly as the one before. By the time it was fifty meters away, we saw a flash of brilliant green at the surface. Oh yeah, that's a dorado. See how it goes to the top? As someone was speaking this wisdom, the beast plunged straight downward and then away. I mentioned that I didn't want to rush this guy in, as I was worried about breaking the rod.

"Ohhh no. You won't break that rod," Mark said. I nodded and was now 100% certain the rod would snap in half.

I pulled and reeled, pulled and reeled, pulled and reeled. The fish got close enough to the top of the water to see us, and for us to see him, and nobody on either side of this struggle was terribly pleased with the result. This thing had a mouth on it that would have given a British dentist night sweats. After sussing us out, the savage brute made straight for the bottom. I finally got it to the aft steps, and Mark somehow got it onto the low decking - tail first. It was a barracuda, and neither one of us wanted much to do with the business end. Barry pulled the leftover mahi mahi from the fridge and chucked it overboard, "fresh fish tonight, then." For the sake of conversation, we dropped a tape measure on the sea ogre. 1.35 meters. That's 53 inches in English measurement, and in American that's a nickel of high-fives and back slaps all around.

Our victorious troglodyte dance was cut short when Barry appeared from the cabin with a book in hand. "We can't eat that," he said, "we might die."

"What? Okay wait, define 'might'."

Apparently, according to the "book", a barracuda of this size was almost certain to carry with it a toxin called "ciguatera". Little fishies have it in low doses, and the higher you go up the fishy foody chain, the more concentrated the dose becomes. This dinosaur we just winched out of the water didn't spend a whole lot of time looking over its shoulder. The thing was the king boss dictator of the deep. Everything he ate contained some ciguatera, and he held on to all of it. I wasn't about to be convinced just because it was in a book - paperback no less, but then Mark and Louis both said yeah, it'll make you really really sick or even kill you. Mark added that it was particularly deadly to cats. Interesting tidbit, albeit a tad odious and tangental. So the barracuda was committed back to the deep where his neighbors now had a chance to have a go at him for a change. We sailed onward with the spinnaker back up and the winds climbing.

During the night we made great speed under a brilliant and clear sky. One note; Louis reports having seen a very strange thing at about 01:15, St. Lucia time. In the sky high above and to the east of us, there appeared a huge white streak. It was like a falling star, only much larger. Then, the white streak burst open into what looked like a white explosion overhead. It was so bright, it lit up the sails. A moment later, the white streak continued from east to west. Meteorite? Satellite launch? Can you hear me, Major Tom? If any other boats saw this, or if anyone has some information to add, we'd love to hear it. Our position at the time was 14º 20.982N - 056º 25.886W.

After sunup this morning, Louis brought in another large fish. His was a 1.2 meter-long dorado. He didn't make anywhere near the fuss that I made, and his is a completely edible delicacy.

The clouds are heavy and almost gray today. The wind remains high at around 23-25 knots, and the waves are often more than five meters high. We are less than 200 miles from St. Lucia, and still hope to make landfall in the late afternoon tomorrow, Wednesday.

and onto some Dutch...

2 mannen van boven de zestig zitten ‚s morgens om 6.00 uur op het bovendek de zaak te bespreken. De vorige en de dag van vandaag, hoeveel vis we vangen, wie gaat koken hoe we geslapen hebben etc.De wereld bespreken is er niet bij omdat we daar niets en dan ook niets van weten. Heerlijk!!!
Reuze gezellig en dat bij een wind van 25 knopen of meer. De 2 oude mannen zitten nu meer dan 3 weken aan boord en ze weten al veel van elkaar. Als er wat moet worden gedaan aan de boot of aan de zeilen stampen we met de voeten en komt het jonge volk uit hun bed en doen ze wat ze moeten doen.
Nu om 9.00 uur is de eerste vis, een hele mooie Mahi Mahi, van ongeveer een meter gevangen en is het diner weer voorzien van verse vis. Het fileren en in porties verdelen gaat bijzonder efficiënt. Iedereen heeft een taak. Ze weten dat ik vis hou maar hem zelf pakken is er niet bij.
Gisteren mocht ik even voor de foto een Barracuda van 1.35 meter vasthouden. Dat was wel de laatste voor deze reis.
Morgen komen we om ongeveer 16.00 uur lokale tijd dan is het 21.00 uur Holland dus dan zal ik nog proberen te bellen anders wordt het donderdagochtend 11.00 tot 12.00 uur in de morgen jullie tijd.

Cheers from the almost home crew of Maverick Dream

bird problem...SORTED!

2007-12-10T12:09:00.001-08:00

We are headed due-west now at around 8 knots with the red spinnaker boldly announcing our approach. We are down to seven 5 liter bottles of fresh mineral water and still eating well, with a menu of fish, rice, long-life milk, juices, a few apples, and frozen or dry foods. We still hope to make Rodney Bay by Wednesday evening. Bella the bird and her boyfriend are no longer with us. It would be nice to leave it at that, but some kind of explanation is deserved and even required.

Mistakes were made:

1) It was assumed that two birds on the boat would be twice as wonderful as one bird on the boat.

2) The two birds were permitted to "fully explore" this strange and wondrous man made island.

3) The two birds were given generous portions of raw fish scraps.

The night air was warm in the cabin, and even with the two overhead hatches fully open it was difficult to find a decent sleeping position. From this vantage point, the lights atop the mast throw a secondary glow that alights the bunk in a blue-green wash. The normal cycle is to sleep a few minutes, overheat, awaken to wave noise on the side of the boat, roll, look at the dim light coming through the hatch, sleep a few minutes more. It's not the stuff of mattress advertising, but when it's what one has, one makes it work. Anything that breaks that cycle is more than a little unwelcome. A precocial seabird repeatedly poking its head and then its tail into the hatch directly over one's face fits the description of a cycle breaker. Eventually, I closed the hatch. The air in the room went still, but the bird could no longer get in.

The seabird made adjustments of his own. After a few peaceful sleep cycles, I opened my eyes and looked up at the hatch to make sure I was looking at sky and not sea. Sky is good, sea means it's time to get in the life raft. What I saw was the bottoms of a bird's feet, feathers, and tail, made enormous by the mast backlighting. Very funny. I'm fairly goodnatured. So I was the butt of a bird's joke. Touche, bird. Goodnight.

After a peaceful early morning watch, I stayed up top and chatted with Barry and Tom. We put the world to rights as a stunning sunrise lit the sky in red, pink, blue, bluer, white, black, and purple. The wind was gaining strength and all signs pointed toward a good day at sea. Tom got up to get some water or something. As he descended the steps, he exclaimed, "Aww horrible, horrible bahhh! Get out you birds!" A couple days ago, Tom kindly inquired as to what we call bird excrement in English, and I immediately supplied the first word that sprung to mind. Despite Barry's protests at the time, Tom seems to have determined that the word is succinct, easy to pronounce, and even sounds like the stuff that is being described. Since then, he has named nearly every surface of the boat in conjunction with that word. While this in itself was adorable, we all recognized that we had a problem.

When Mark arose, he took one look at the mess and announced to the two birds that it just wasn't working out. The seabirds listened politely, but in the end, they disagreed. With shelter, food, fresh water, and a free ticket to ride, it was working out splendidly. Mark was marching around the entire boat with a pole in hand, jabbing it at the two stowaways. Shoo! Get out! The birds lazily spread their wings, circled, and landed at the opposite side of the boat. The Cap'n then marched across the bow and repeated the insults. He even performed an ancient bird riddance dance which involved throwing both feet above his elbows and spinning on his back. Breathtaking, bruising and surprisingly effective, or so it appeared. At last, the two birds flew off and away, disappearing against the gentle sea swells. All was quiet.

Louis said, "You don't really believe those birds are gone for - "

"INCOMING!" And they returned as Hitchcock always knew they would. This had the makings of a project, and five dudes on a boat for two weeks love a project. Without any instruction, we positioned ourselves on all four corners, with a fifth man at the wheel. Some with poking sticks, others clapping hands and yelling OYE OYE. I took the American Cowboy Approach, hurling a bundle of rope at them to allow the end to snap. The object was to keep them flying. LANDING ON THIS BOAT IS NO LONGER AN OPTION, GENTLEMEN. The birds would occasionally squawk at us, "I thought we were cool! We're still cool, right guys?" It was becoming clear that this was not going to be an amicable breakup wherein we all remained Good Friends. Something had to be done before these birds found a good lawyer. Cap'n Mark emerged from his quarters with a homemade slingshot, some cork balls, and a steely glare. He drew back, took aim, cracked his neck, and fired.

Somewhere east of our position a boat is making its way. Two white seabirds are spotted well off in the distance. They look tired and beaten. Poor little birds! Of course you can stay with us! We're delighted to see you. Would you like some food and water? You must be starving so far from land, my goodness! Yes, thank you, the birds say, thank you so much. You're very kind ...

and a little Dutch for you to translate with babelfish.altavista.com

De reigers zijn nog steeds aan boord en hebben de boot op een vervelende manier ondergepoept.
We zijn nu op alle mogelijke diervriendelijke manieren aan het proberen het de beesten moeilijk te maken en maar een andere boot op te zoeken.
Maar kennelijk vinden ze dit vliegdekschip nog de meest aantrekkelijke in de buurt.
De spinnaker staat weer op na een zeer vredige, alleen motorgeluid, nacht. Desondanks prima geslapen.
Vandaag hebben we Barry vrij gegeven zodat de Dutch het diner, supper of give at a name mogen klaarmaken.
Het wordt, als er geen verse vis wordt gevangen prima boot eten t.w. spaghetti met tonijn uit blik en een goede saus erbij. De ingrediënten zijn aanwezig.
Verder is het een prima dag met vanmorgen een kleine regenbui en de vooruitzichten zijn goed. Op naar St. Lucia.

cheers from the blessedly birdless crew of Maverick Dream.

ANOTHER bird on board

2007-12-09T07:42:00.000-08:00

The rain came and went all day yesterday, accompanied by precious little wind. Cap'n Mark had an engine running to give us some distance, heat the filtered water, and charge up the batteries. We were into the late afternoon doldrums when one of the fishing reels started shrieking. Louis picked it up as I ran up to cut the engine. "The other one is also going!" Mark grabbed the second rod and started reeling it in. Louis pulled a small barracuda out of the water. The fish had been ravaged by something else. Our best two guesses are either a shark tried to get it, or the larger fish that Mark was now fighting saw the hapless 'cuda on the hook and tried to eat it. Failing that, it saw the pink squid lure on our second line an opted to settle. It took a long while for Mark to get the dorado to the boat, and nearly that much again to wrestle it up onto the deck steps. Barry reckons it was just short of one meter in length. It was cleaned by Mark with great efficiency and put into the fridge for Sunday dinner. The smaller barracuda was issued $5.00 and a bus pass and sent off with a stern talking to.

The night was far far better than the previous one, and we all slept well. At 03:30 MDT, it was my watch shift. I sighted the dim green mast light of a small boat as I went up to the helm this morning to take over the watch from Louis. Louis was watching the sea in the other direction, so I had a golden opportunity to spot a boat before he did.

"There's a boat, port side forward. It's just on the horizon," I reported.

Louis did not turn his head, "Yes, it's just in front of that party boat."

I looked back and saw the giant cruise ship for the first time. A thousand lights were blazing on her three decks. "Yes ... right in front of ... the party boat." It looked like an enormous mardis gras float hovering just above the water line. Aside from that though, it was easy to miss.

"There is also another boat in front of us," Louis continued, "it might be the Lilly, maybe somebody new."

I squinted and made out a haze of light far ahead. I was now much more concerned with Elvis' floating wedding cake bearing down on us. "It's going the same way we are. What do I do if it gets any closer?"

"Switch boats."

It turned out that the small sailboat was the one to watch. Deck lights went on, then off, then she turned away, and then she turned hard-right and crossed in front of us. Following another series of confusing lighting changes, the boat headed westward again, along our starboard side. There was a series of flashes. Their crew were taking pictures of the party boat. Those will never come out. That task completed, the sailboat made a hard-left turn and crossed behind us, falling in well behind the cruise ship. Thankfully, Louis had stayed up top during this dance number, but he soon left me with three comfortably far-off boats so that he could grab some sleep.

There is no moon now, and the stars are brilliant in a monumental dome above us. "We are nothing," Tom had said. Sundays are special, so we had the last few eggs in the larder for breakfast, along with toasted bread rolls, butter, jam, and Swiss cheese.

Bella the Ibis is still with us, and as of a couple hours ago, we are now joined by a second Ibis. This one is an as-yet to be named male. He's much more self-assured, and has already inspected the cabin along with Barry's bed. "I'm going to be in trouble when Polly finds out I had a bird in my bed," he observed.

We are now sailing with spinnaker out and mostly blue skies. All is well here. As we draw closer to St. Lucia, we fully expect more sails, whales, and tales.

and of course, we have to finish with a lil bit o dutch:

Er gebeurt elke dag wel iets. Gisteren de meeste tijd regen. lles was doorweekt en na het drogen begon het weer te regenen. Gelukkig zijn we de avond droog ingegaan en bleef het droog.
Ook is er een kleine witte reiger geland en heeft ons niet meer verlaten. Zelfs vandaag als ik dit schrijf is er een 2de bijgekomen. Ze proberen de boot geheel te onderzoeken tot zelfs een zit op het bed van Barry. Waarschijnlijk om zijn eieren te leggen. We noemen de boot nu Loveboat for birds. Na de windstilte hebben we redelijk lang op motor gevaren We willen a.s. woensdag binnen zijn. Ik zal blij zijn weer even te kunnen telefoneren en te internetten. We hebben zoveel te vertellen.
N u schijnt de zon weer volop en varen we op spinnaker, heerlijk met een gangetje van 8 knopen.
Op zondagmorgen hebben we nu de traditie van 2 zachtgekookte eitjes en Keith vind ze fantastisch. Kennelijk kennen ze die niet in Amerika.
En zo gaan we gewoon weer verder met heel leuke kleine dingen groot te maken.
groetjes

PS from Mark: I am just composing the emails, getting them etc and I sit here on the couch inside with one of the white birds on the cockpit table literally within arm's reach. Very brave birds..

cheers from the birds and people on board Maverick Dream

wet wet wet, and a white bird

2007-12-08T12:10:00.001-08:00

When the clouds broke this morning, a small, white seabird made a direct flight for our decks. She circled once and aborted the attempted landing upon the slippery stainless steel rail. She circled again and made for the solar panels behind the wheel. Good enough. She plunked her scrawny frame down and eyed Louis and me. We were big and looked like predators and we were only a few feet away. Who cares? She was tired, and she seemed to know we were too.

All of us had spent the past 15 hours doing battle with the elements. The rain started around dinner time. Barry, who is amazing, had prepared curried beef, curried vegetables, and rice. Louis was watching yet another dark cloud behind us. Most of these potentially threatening clouds had missed us until now. I asked him if he'd rather eat up top and he said yes. The table had been moved indoors, "just in case we got some rain". I brought a plate to the skipper, and the rest of us sat down to eat inside. The mainsail was full and it was too late to discuss dropping it or even putting a reef in it. The winds were already around 20 knots.

The black cloud did not miss us, and it brought with it winds of 40 knots and a swimming poolful of rain. Louis loved the curry. He tried to eat it while steering the boat. The sails would break, or even the mast, if too much wind caught them on the wrong side. He put the plate down on the deck and concentrated on the wind, the sails, the waves, and that plate of curry which was now hydroplaning away and back to him. Tom went up to check on his son and rescued the food. Then Mark went up to help, but there wasn't much that could be done. Just steer the boat and concentrate.

After the winds died down again, Louis came in and professed his love of the curry to the chef. Through the night the rain and wind stayed with us. For its own entertainment, the wind would shift from westerly to southerly to northerly and even occasionally head on. In the early morning hours, thunder and lightning joined the party. On several nights, I've seen lightning behind us, or to one side or the other. Last night, the lightning was simultaneously in front, behind, to our south, and directly above us. The sky came right down and planted a messy kiss on the sea, right when we were attempting to cross from upper to lower lip.

By the time the sun rose, we were all wet and tired. No one had slept at all. After lying in my bunk and staring at the car wash-like conditions pummeling the escape hatch above me, I went up top again. Louis was at the wheel once more, and the two of us watched the same storm cloud pass over us and dump torrents of rain no fewer than four times. It crossed from stern to bow, then the wind reversed itself and it crossed from bow to stern. Then it repeated that gimmick. Our storm jackets had long-since forfeited their duties. It was as if we were wearing sponge coats.

Finally, around 10:00, the clouds parted and a bright blue sky clocked in late and pretended it had been there all along. From the direction of St. Lucia, 700 miles way, the white bird appeared. It looked like a WWI fighter plane stumbling its way back home after a long and damaging night mission. We have named her Bella. I wondered how many other boats saw the same storm. How many exhausted crews are nursing themselves back this morning. Tom is a brilliant and thoughtful man. It must be frustrating for him to try to express what are obviously complex ideas in a foreign language. His English vocabulary grows daily, and he manages very well. This morning, he said, "We are running a marathon. That was a big hill. The rest of the way ... good." We came through with no damage. We hope the same for all the other ARC boats.

and over to Tom...apparently we have a good following in Holland via the Maverick Dream website...

Voordat iedereen gaat denken dat dit reisje een groot plezier is wil nu dan de keerzijde even belichten.
Gisteren tegen 19.00 uur kwamen donkere wolken op ons af die eruitzagen van veel wind en regen.
Nu dat klopt elk uur minstens een felle regenbui en af en toe windvlagen van 40 knopen. Onze eerste wacht begon om 20.00 uur tot 22.00 uur. Barry en ik zaten klaar.
Regelmatig kwam Mark even boven om bij te sturen om de harde windvlagen te verwerken.
We varen praktisch voor de wind en dan is het erg lastig als er bij een van de windvlagen de wind uit een andere hoek komt. Louis en hij gaan dan met de autopilot de golfen en windrichtingen verwerken in een zo prettig mogelijke vaart. Wel is het voordeel van veel wind ook dat de snelheid behoorlijk toeneemt. De ochtendwacht was tot 8.00 uur redelijk rustig maar gelukkig kwam Louis op tijd boven om de wacht over te nemen.
Daarna even een licht ontbijt en weer gaan slapen omdat de afgelopen nacht zeer lawaaierig en rumoerig was waardoor van slapen niets terecht kwam.
Nu is het 10.00 uur en Louis staat nog steeds boven met veel regen.
Ik zal hem maar eens gaan bezoeken. Zeker weet ik dat hij het allemaal prachtig vindt. De hele dag loopt hij met een grote grijns op zijn gezicht.
Tot morgen.

Cheers from the drying out crew on Maverick Dream

"wind puffs of 50 buttons"

2007-12-07T11:35:00.000-08:00

The sea was flat and the sun was throwing off its first hints about how intense it intended to be in the Caribbean. The boat was quiet late afternoon yesterday as I lounged on the seat at the wheel. Suddenly, Cap'n Mark popped up from the lower deck and jerked me loose from my internal revelry. He was looking behind us, "Yep, there it is. A severe storm warning was just issued, and we're right on the front edge of it." I sat up just as the winds increased and watched the wind gauge cruise from 10 knots to 16-18. All at once the whole crew was on alert and in action, stowing water jugs and cushions, organizing storm gear, reeling in fishing lines, and battening the hatches.

The skies over us were robin's egg blue, but the dark ones that had suddenly appeared behind and to our south had all our attention. The sea began to roll and as the wind increased to 25-28 knots, the tops of the waves were clipped off and blowing ahead. The main sail was already down, and now Louis was rigging a rope around the boom and cinching up the fabric. The genoa sail, which opens as if it were the last paper towel on a roll that is positioned vertically, was rolled-up slightly in order to take some of the stress off of the usual pressure points.

As we maintained a vigil up top to see what the fates would bring us, a whale was spotted well off the starboard side deck. It seemed as though the creature was rather enjoying the change in circumstances, as it rose up out of the sea and flopped back down onto the frothing white caps. Time and again it performed these acrobatics as we played the part of enthralled audience.

The black clouds were obviously dropping a lot of rain into the sea behind us. It would be a crap shoot as to whether they would roll over us or push off toward the northwest before reaching our little pin point on the chart. Over the next few minutes, we all watched as the weather dice were thrown. They came up sevens. The rain passed just behind us before advancing, but we reaped the benefits in strong winds and surf. The storm gear was shelved, within easy reach, and Barry carried on with his dinner plans consisting of egg noodle pasta, tomato sauce, and grated cheese. With the winds howling onto the aft deck dining table, we ate quickly, lest the pasta be transformed into a cold rubber ball.

Mark said to us, "You've now experienced Force 7 winds." Had we? Dear me. What will my neighbors and Barry's breakfast club members at the Brecon Leisure Center say? Not to mention Tom's friends at the piano workshop. Ah well ... let them all talk. After the dark clouds, we continued with winds tickling 30 knots and waves around three or four meters high until the wee early morning hours.

By sunrise things had calmed considerably, affording us the chance to make repairs to the system that heats water on the boat. Since this involved the engine in the generator, it gave us license to try out our mechanics' mouths.

The problem centered around the @$#% pump. The #@!! impeller had busted and a piece of it was stuck in the €ç¬ç#! intake system. To make matters worse, we had the replacement part, but the ¤@$7!!s no longer include the required gasket so we couldn't close it all back up. Normally, one of us would just run down to the parts store and spend the buck-twenty on a new gasket, but Pep Boys has yet to open a store near our current location. After #$&% - about and trying to piece together some kind on compromise, Louis remembered that he had purchased a tube of gasket sealant back in Tenerife. Out-#@$!%*%#-standing! The instructions on the tube were in Portuguese, but we got by ok and the generator is currently humming like a $@&?-1⁄4**?¬.

Our projections are now for an arrival in St. Lucia on Wednesday afternoon. If we can maintain an average speed of 6.5 knots, we'll be there in time to dine out. Note to my Ellen: I'll attempt to call your mobile phone this evening to see if you had any luck finding me a plane ticket home. I miss you.

We're all having a good time on the high seas, or a high time on the good seas. As we get closer to St. Lucia, we are seeing a few more boats. We came within 10 miles of the boat Lilly, but could not see her. We know they were to our south only because Mark spoke with the American captain on the VHF. Mark told him that we had an American on board too, and perhaps our American will talk American with them in St. Lucia. "Marvelous," I thought, "maybe we can all go out for Chinese." We continue to roll along on a heading of 2601⁄4 or so. The waves are directly behind us and raising us up about 3 meters before we gently skid downward into the next trough. I am not positive, but it looks like tonight will feature a new moon. The past few nights, the stars have been phenomenal, with shooting stars mixed in. With the prospect of a very dark night and billions of stars, I'm looking forward to tonight's graveyard shift for the watch.

And some more Dutch for you fellow Netherlanders...and those whose curiosity leads them to AltaVista Babel Fish will understand the title of this log

De verwachting is dat we woensdag in de late middag aankomen wanneer we genoeg wind in de zeilen houden.
De ontvangstceremonie op St. Lucia heeft iets met Rum te maken dus we moeten niet te vroeg aankomen.
Gisteren werd er een waarschuwing in het noordelijke gedeelte afgegeven van windvlagen van 50 knopen.
Voor alle zekerheid maar alles in gereedheid gebracht om snel te kunnen reven en alles goed vast te zetten.
De zeilpakken, de reddinglijnen en zwemvesten klaargelegd en maar afwachten. Er kwamen wel donkere wolken aan en de wind wakkerde goed aan maar boven de 30 knopen is het nauwelijks gekomen.
Wel was er weer even reuring op de boot.
De golfen waren inmiddels redelijk ruig en toen zagen we op zo’n 800 meter naast ons een grote staartvin uit het water komen en er weer induiken dat gebeurde een aantal keren. 4 vn ons waren ervan overtuigd dat het een walvis was. Louis was een iets andere mening toegedaan. Hij dacht aan een grote vis die acrobatiek liet zien.
Maar hier konden onze ervaringen met het zien van natuurfilms op National Geografic ons niet van de wijs brengen.
Vanmorgen is er een kleine reparatie uitgevoerd aan de generator.
Er miste een klein onderdeeltje maar vijf heel nuchtere kerels hebben het geklaard zodat alles weer naar tevredenheid werkt.
Zo direct gaan Barry en ik pannenkoeken bakken waar we allemaal veel trek in hebben.

Groetjes
en de rug van Louis is weer helemaal bruin.

Cheers from the surfing crew onboard Maverick Dream

water, pipes, poo and stuff

2007-12-06T13:48:00.000-08:00

This morning, I faced down the keeper of my cryptonite, my archest of enemies. This morning I summoned all my strength and character and went head-to-head with The Head. Until this day my mind and body were held hostage by this tiny, taunting, chamber of torture. Not so today. No sir. Today would be different. The seas were somewhat flat, and we were on a steady course. All crew were quietly occupied about our vessel as I lay in my bed, contemplating the plumbing. Perhaps you've never taken the time to think about plumbing on a boat. You're obviously a very busy person with a lot of work to do. If you find a bit of time, to paraphrase Jesus, consider the loo. Boat plumbing is but a distant relative of house plumbing. There is neither a fresh water supply pipe coming in, nor a septic field or sewer pipes going out. I lay still in my bed, fighting back the queasiness, as I envisioned the pipes and their workflow. I have a pretty clear understanding of plumbing on terra firma, so naturally it was truly bothering me that the same thing, when applied to a boat, was an unresolved riddle. I listened to the whir of a pump which is stowed only 8 inches beneath my matress. What is it pumping? Steady man, steady. At last, I sat up, stared at the door to the head, and uttered the quote that Kevin Costner uses to make the roaring noise of Yankee Stadium go away in For Love of the Game: "Clear the area". My mind became something like an empty lobby - only more Zen-like. I went in. After my eyes got accustomed to the light, I opened covers, turned valves on and off, and even disconnected a few things. After thirty minutes of battle, I emerged from the head a hard-worn but victorious hero. I had overcome the head's evil spells and clutched firmly to the confidence given to a man who knows in his heart as well as his head exactly where the poop goes.

Above deck, nobody seemed to take notice of my newfound shimmer and swagger. Tom read a book about angels, or maybe, the English. The title was written out in Dutch, of all things, so there's really no way to be certain. Louis hung laundry on the small clothesline on the aft deck. Mark watched a movie. The wind and sea paid no mind as they gently nudged us onward. The fishing lines have been out all day, but even the fish seem to be distracted and noncommittal today. Barry was looking at the waters and lazily scanning the horizon.

"When you write your journal today, Keith, would you please send my love to Polly? And Andy, Joey, Stephanie, and Ben. It's really the only way to get through to them out here. I can't send a postcard."

"Of course I will, Barry." I announced in a confident, victorious tone.

"What else are you going to write about? There's not been a lot happening today."

Not been a lot happening? Was he serious? Could he really not see that I was a changed man? Was he truly blind to the fact that I had defeated no lesser a villain than The Head? If this were professional wrestling, I'd be clutching a giant gold belt in my gorgeous, shining white teeth. If this were science, I'd win the Nobel prize! If this were the Tennessee State Fair, I'd be Miss Tuscalusa pinning a blue ribbon on the fattest damn pig you've ever seen! Not a lot happening? I had a sudden impulse to grab Barry's arm and escort him down below to see The Battlefield, but I couldn't because Mark was blocking the path and looking concerned.

"Whatsa matter?" I asked him.

"Not sure ... the tank that holds the desalinized water is really low, and it was full yesterday. Also, there's a bunch of water in the hull. I think something might be leaking somewhere."

"I ... see," I said, as I mentally reviewed the various valves, filters, and whatnots that I had been twisting and banging on, "well ... good luck."

So the point is, there's not been a lot happening today. Not a whole lot to write about. It has been very quiet, as I will continue to be.

p.s. - we never spoke.

and over to the Dutch side...

Nu begrijp ik waarom veel mensen het prettig vinden te gaan cruisen.

Je voortreffelijke eten en drinken op tijd, af en toe een beetje gokken,(Rummicup) de was wordt voor je gedaan tot zelfs het wasgoed opgehangen (Louis). Het enige wat er tegenover staat is om af en toe op de bok te moeten zitten en zelfs dat is geen straf. O ja en de vaatwas doen want dat kun je de chefkok toch niet aandoen.
U hoort het al hier gaat alles naar wens alleen je vrouw zal er bij moeten zijn.
Er gebeurt op dit moment niets bijzonders om verder over te vertellen.
Keith zal wel weer iets uit zijn duim zuigen om het log vol te krijgen.
Er is namelijk een prijs voor wie de leukste, gekste, meest bijzondere weblog instuurt. Volgens hebben we daar zeker recht op.

Gegroet
16.37N
43.11W

yo to all our dawgs hanging out there checkin' out the 'dream (or something to that effect).

Dutch Christmas on board Maverick Dream

2007-12-05T10:57:00.000-08:00

"Five pounds sterling to the first man who spots a sail," Barry threw down the challenge to Tom early yesterday morning. All day the two men scanned the horizon, but nothing was seen. Only the flying fish, which we have taken to calling "Flish", occasionally interrupted the calm waters. Barry blamed Tom's failing eyesight and old age, while Tom helpfully reminded his senior friend to take his pills. The fact remained that we were in a section of water all our own, and would stay that way for some time. Later, Cap'n Mark decided to fire up one of our diesel engines and let it push us along for a while. The engine charged the batteries, heated the water, and gave us a little distance on a day with nearly no wind.

As the day slowly went amber and turned to evening, it was Louis who first spotted the sail. The £5 pound bounty was abandoned with a compromise agreement that Barry would buy Tom a sandwich and beer at Gatwick on their return home.

On our starboard side, another catamaran had appeared. It was the Wakamizu. We had spoken with their Japanese crew in Las Palmas before setting sail. The Wakamizu was moving southwest at 210 degrees, and crossed about 100 meters in front of our bow. Mark spoke with the captain over VHF radio. They were following what little wind there was and would cut sharply westward on the latitude of St. Lucia. They were running a dark boat; only the instruments and a bow and stern light were using battery power. Their generator was not working, so a single engine ran in neutral in order to charge the batteries. As the Wakamizu passed, Tom and I watched it from the helm. The sun was nearly gone, and the sky glowed rose and yellow as their sail and a single twinkle of light continued away from us and toward the horizon again. The similarities and contrasts were striking. On a giant, empty stretch of ocean, two boats crossed paths. Each boat had twin hulls, white fiberglass bodies, and small crews. One sailed southward with a muted and dark interior. The other hummed, fully lit, with fajitas being prepared in the galley and Happy Feet blaring over the interior speakers and showing on the DVD. I felt as though our deck looked like the Las Vegas Strip, with a chorus line of high-kicking ladies across the bow, slot machines and lounge singers across the port side, and an oom-pah band in the dinghy.

Today is December 5th; the day all the children in the Netherlands awake to find their wooden shoes filled with presents from St. Nick. Since two of our five man crew are former children of Holland, we have tried to maintain the St. Nick Day tradition as much as possible. Having no clogs onboard, we had to improvise a bit. We set a pair of flip flops upon the deck. At first, we thought that the good saint had passed us by. While no gifts were found, we did discover the plastic container that served as our cookie jar had been surreptitiously knocked over in the night. Maybe it was the wind from last night's squall, or perhaps St. Nick had indeed stopped by, but doesn't favor stale Fig Newtons and mini-choco-chip cookies. Nonetheless, Barry whipped up a yellow cake with chocolate frosting.

We ate it after lunch as our own small salute to the saint and in honor of two of Holland's finest exports, Tom and Louis. Suddenly, as if called forth by our gesture, before our very eyes, from out of nowhere, with a grand entrance, the great saint appeared before us!

He brought greetings to all, clarified a few facts that we had somewhat misconstrued, and gave us all gifts of chocolate. Then, in a flash, before we were even sure he was here, he was gone. Tom was in the head and missed the whole thing. If you are unfamiliar with the tradition of St. Nick's Day, the crew of the Maverick Dream highly recommend the briefing on the subject in Esquire magazine, under the title, "Six to Eight Black Men", by David Sedaris. I would hot link it for you, but I am on a boat, hoisting sails and such. Surely it would not be too much trouble for you to, you know, find it on Amazon or Google it or something. I mean, come on. You're already reading this when you should probably be doing something important. Take a moment.

We all received the best gift we could have gotten, as winds have returned to the trades and we are flying the main and the genoa sails and pointing directly at our destination. In 24 hours, the waves have gone from nil to four and five meters high. We are riding high and somewhat dry. The fresh fruit is no longer that, and we are choking down as much as possible to avoid chucking it overboard in the coming hours. Our capable chef compulsively counts and recounts our stock of food and water, and we have every confidence that he will find a way to make tinned and frozen foods downright tasty over the final week. Ever since the waves have gone directly behind us, my outlook has brightened markedly. As long as I don't spend too much time indoors, my stomach is happy to be a sailor.

Another little ditty for your delectation:

Five guys in a boat, all from different nations
fishing outside when most would have stayed in
Five guys in a boat, with no confrontations
most likely down to the lack of fair maidens

and a message from our Dutch correspondent:

Tijdens een, helaas, kort telefoontje met Annemieke werd me duidelijk dat er veel reacties zijn gegeven in het gastenboek van de website van www.maverickdream.com waarvoor onze hartelijke dank.

Helaas kunnen we website aan boord niet bekijken zodat we geen reacties kunnen geven. Zo gauw we aankomen en een internet verbinding hebben dan zullen we dat alsnog doen.

Alle communicatie met de rest van de wereld verloopt via 2 punten t.w. de Worldcruising organisatie die onze weblog bekijkt en die weersberichten en standen terug stuurt. Daarnaast wordt de website door de moeder van Mark aangepast met onze berichten. Als je deze verstuurt naar hun is vaak al een kwartier van de 20 minuten tijd, die via sataliettelefoon beschikbaar is, voorbij.

Heb nog even geduld.

Gisteren voor het eerst in enige dagen weer contact gehad met een andere deelnemer aan de Rally. Ook een Lagoon passeerde ons met een veel zuidelijker koers. Hier zaten Japanners aan boord die we hebben verteld dat we tussen de middag sushi hadden gegeten met verse Tonijn. Tevens verteld dat we er 2 hadden gevangen en er een, helaas wegens ruimte gebrek, weer hebben teruggegeven aan de zee. Je kunt je voorstellen wat de Japanners hiervan vonden.

De wind was zeer matig de afgelopen nacht waardoor we maar af en toe hebben op de motor hebben gevaren.

Nu is de wind weer 15 tot 20 knopen en gaan we weer volop vooruit naar het einddoel.

Tot morgen

cheers from the stuffed to the gills crew on Maverick Dream

swimming at sea after sushi

2007-12-04T08:26:00.001-08:00

As the sun set last evening, five guys on a boat finished their tuna steaks and held animated discussions in an effort to not only predict the atmospheric conditions during the coming night, but also to determine the precise appropriate action to take in response. Barry began the debate by going over old business.

"Are we going to spend another sleepless night with that mainsail banging? Every half a minute, just as I fade off to something like restful slumber, it goes 'SLAM', and for what? There wasn't even any wind last night."

"It wouldn't go 'SLAM', if the sails were kept trim," Mark said, looking straight at me.

"Trim it however you like," I was affronted, "If there's 2 knots of wind, the sail is gonna 'SLAM' every single time we rock back from a wave."

"What about flying the spinnaker?" someone interjected.

"Only if the wind is directly behind us. Besides, there is the busted pulley we have to consider."

"Oh yes, the busted pulley ... "

"What wind? There was no wind! At one point we were moving backward."

"That doesn't mean we'll get the same tonight."

Oh my, what a gaggle. On and on it went, until Barry called for a vote, in the manner of lying on the bench to drift off to the same acrimonious half-sleep that had been sustaining him for days. In the end, we left the mainsail and the genoa sail up until night fell, at which time the mainsail was dropped. Thereafter, the boat rocked placidly and moved forward only as swiftly as the current. All of us, including Barry, slept like newborn kittens on a floating island in a sea of satin which, had we been able to find the edge, we would have tucked in neatly at four corners and left a mint chocolate kitty treat on the pillow clouds before us. Tom and Barry both said the boat talked to them last night. While there were no conversations going in my bunk, I must admit that I could at least hear her breathing.

By morning, we were all 14 year old boys on a raft again. After the sun rose and we had a hasty breakfast of pears and cereals, the water around us was still flat and the wind nonexistent. Tom, Mark, and Louis determined that it was high time to take advantage of our fifty kilometers wide, four kilometers deep, members only swimming pool. The safety cables were pulled back at the aft steps and two ropes were deployed behind the boat. Within moments, Tom was in the water and making appreciative Chewbacca noises and hanging on to a knot in one of the ropes. Louis, in high style, made a running full-circle flip into the drink, and quickly swam under the boat and out of sight. Barry and I played the part of a team of mother hens, asking if Louis had a hold on one of the ropes and if Tom was alright and so on. I would have gone in, but you see I'd just had my hair done. When Tom finally removed himself, it was Mark's turn to demonstrate complete disregard for the dangers of the deep. He mugged for the camera and did a pirouette into the salt water.

Last night with the sail down, and the night before as well, we made very slow progress. As the sun warms the air, the winds pick up, and we go into the afternoon confident that we will make up some distance. There are, after all, still 1,400 miles to go. Even though Barry insists it is Wednesday, it is indeed only Tuesday. We all want to get to St. Lucia, and onwards to our various distinations. Barry misses his Polly and the little restaurant down the street where he insists they must give him his own table. Tom is looking forward to getting back to the Netherlands and his wife and life. Mark will reunite with Zhenya in Europe. Louis is already making plans to take the boat through the Panama Canal and across the even-larger ocean to Australia. I want to see the Shire again and my little hobbit home. Not a moment goes by that I am not thinking of Ellen and Ro. Every day I read the note my little one tucked into my duffle. But as long as we're here, in this most remote spot on Earth, where the fish fly and there are still no sails or whales on the horizon, we're going to have a little fun.

And a little tidbit from the flying Dutchman (till he hit the water anyway)

Na het dagprogramma van gisteren wil ik even in het kort vertellen wat ons vannacht en vanmorgen overkwam gisteren viel de wind weg, wat bekend was via de weersberichten en is er een kleine vergadering belegt over wat te doen. Nu om het geklapper van het grootzeil te verminderen is dat naar beneden gehaald en alleen op de Genua verder gevaren met zoÕn knoop of 3. In de morgen was iedereen vroeg wakker omdat we gisteren de tijd hebben verzet, 2 uur terug, Voor 9.00 uur hebben Louis, Mark en ik een duik genomen in de Atlantic waar het ongeveer 4000 meter diep is. Het is heerlijk om elke 2 dagen een douche te nemen maar dit is helemaal speciaal.
Zo zijn we weer een dag verder, de hengels weer uit en op naar St. Lucia.

Cheers from the slightly soggy crew on Maverick Dream

Dream Time

2007-12-03T07:13:00.000-08:00

WHIRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!! The reel on one of our two fishing poles was turning faster than a zydeco dancer at a hurricane party. Louis grabbed the line while the boat was brought around. We could all tell from the sound that this was a big fish. Our regular practice has been to reel in the other line when we have a fish, but this was not possible. The other line had also started screaming as something big pulled it down and away. Now Mark had the second rod and was next to Louis as they played two fish at once. Within minutes, the dinner menu had changed from spaghetti to seared tuna steaks. The mood of the crew was boosted palpably until we came to the realization that we actually had too much fish. The smaller of the two fish had to be thrown back, as we had no room to freeze it. None of us felt good about the decision. The fish was obviously dead, but we knew it was the only real option that we had. Louis was sullen, "I don't like it. We will have bad fishing luck now because of this." Maybe so. We shall see. Bless us, Neptune, for we have sinned.

Up until today, we have been running on a schedule that is based on the clocks back in Las Palmas - Greenwich Mean Time. As we run westward, our watches have increasingly been in conflict with the sun. While the first night watch may have been scheduled to begin, there was still far too much daylight. By the time the early morning watch was over, it was still the middle of the night. It was a problem, and some kind of action was required. Last night the Cap'n and crew held an informal galley meeting to try and figure this out. The first order of business was to disregard any and all of the time-based norms established over the centuries by the Druids, the Mayans, and all those physicists. Instead, we used models. "Awright ... my hand is earth, see, and this cup is the sun ... " In time, it was decided that we would on this day institute Maverick Dream Time. At high noon, we would move our watches backward by two hours. Or is it forward? Let's see; if my hand is the sun, and my knee is Earth ... yes. We move the clocks back. We chose to move time during the day, rather than at night, for two reasons. The first reason being that a long day at sea is unquestionably better than a long night at sea. The second and more important reason was that we had the power to change the time any time we wanted to, and that's very, very cool.

While most of us were drunk with power, changing over to Maverick Dream Time was not a unanimously agreed upon decision.
Tom was downright hostile to the notion. It offended his sensibilities. Only a moment ago, he pointed at his watch and declared to me, "It is the time."
I pointed at the sun and said, "There's no way we're 25 minutes away from high noon."
"You Americans ..."
"Man on the moon, Tom."
"You think you know everything."
"Say Tom, what time was it when Holland put a man on the moon?"

If you are reading this, there can be no doubt that you are either a contemplative and learned individual or a Google robot spider. Either way, it has probably already occurred to you that a two hour time change between the Canary Islands and St. Lucia is not the end-all answer to our problems. Unbeknownst to Tom, we will buy back another two hours a few days from now and even then we will be off by one hour upon reaching our destination. We are watching him closely for telltale signs that it is all too much for him. It's almost time for lunch. Perhaps we will spend our new-found two hours dining in a leisurely manner on the fresh sushi that Mark is making with the tuna. We will raise a toast to the fish we kept and to the one we had to sacrifice. We will raise our bowls of Tipsy Cake that Barry made using no less than half a bottle of sherry. Perhaps this will appease Neptune. Time will tell.

And a lil bit o' dutch:

Dagindeling Tom op 3 december 2007
5.40 uur opstaan
6.00 tot 9.00 uur wachtzitten
9.00 tot 11.00 uur ontbijten meestal iets uit een groot pak zoals Kellog‚s slapen douchen of opfrissen
11.00 tot 13.00 uur logboek schrijven veel fruit eten
13.00 tot 14.00 uur lunch ditmaal suchi met advocado en komkommer en natuurlijk de tonijn rauw
14.00 tot 19.00 uur spelletjes Rummicup de stand is nu Mark 3, Tom 3, Keith 1 en Louis 0. Op de bok zitten en af en toe een slaapje doen
19.00 tot 20.00 uur diner Sla met rare gebakken tonijn.
Daarna afwassen
20.00 tot 22.00 uur wachtzitten op de bok
22.00 tot 5.40 uur slapen
Alles is zo eenvoudig
Till tomorrow

chow from all the ravenous crew on Maverick Dream. Tuna steaks, tuna sushi, tuna bake, tuna pasta, tuna......

and the nearest shop is ...?

2007-12-02T08:25:00.000-08:00

Barry: We need a new oven.

Louis: We need a new oven ...

Barry: yeahhhhh that one is useless.

Louis: Maybe if we get one with a DVD player it will be cheaper.

Barry: Yeah ...

Louis: I can't get past a spot in uhhh .. Laura Croft Anniversary Edition ... and Grand Theft Auto.

Barry: That oven, no matter what I do it burns everything.

Louis: I keep looking at those sheets hanging to dry and blowing in the wind and I am thinking of Marilyn Monroe.

Barry: You're daft.

Louis: I think I'm getting uhhhhh ... a leetle bit loopy. (singing) Happy birthday, Meester President ...

We are exactly one week at sea, and I think we're all getting a leetle bit loopy. Either absolutely nothing is happening, or something has gone terribly wrong and we're working through the chaos. It's like war, except nobody is shooting at us; except the flying fish. Early this morning, just before the sun, Barry and Tom were ruthlessly attacked by one. They sat together at the helm, chatting amicably about why the Dutch are superior to the English and why, in turn, the Brits are therefore altogether better than the Dutch when suddenly Barry heard a crash. He checked the sails and the rigging. Everything looked ok. While he took a visual inventory for damages, Tom spied the culprit. It was an attack flying fish with a lot of initiative. It had exited the Atlantic and flown all the way up to the wheel in the center-top of our craft. Tom pointed it out to Barry, and Barry began to laugh. Then Tom started laughing, and the two of them laughed like asylum inmates for far too long a period. They then hatched a plot to drop the fetid thing through a hatch and onto Louis as he slept. It seemed the perfect crime and it almost came to pass, until Tom came to the realization that he sleeps in the same bed that Louis was occupying at the time. Damn ye, fates!

The longer we are surrounded by water, water everywhere, the more intriguing even the smallest distraction. By the time we make St. Lucia, we'll have completely disassembled the galley in an effort to fix the oven, 200 of the worst movies ever produced will have been mindlessly viewed, and we'll be playing croquet with an onion, some fishing line, and some poor unsuspecting sea creature. Happy one week anniversary, ARC participants.

And over to our Dutch correspondent, Tom...

DutchARC021207

Het is net een TGV veel geluid en snel.
Hij gaat maar door. Af en toe een donkere wolk met soms wat regen en veel zonneschijn.
In de ochtendwacht, het was nog behoorlijk donker, werden we opgeschrikt door een luid gespetter op het bovendek, dat zo‚n 3 meter boven de waterlijn is, door een vliegende vis die vlak voor het instrumentarium terechtkwam. Verschrikkelijk gelachen. Gelukkig hoefden we hem niet overboord te helpen want hij spatterde en wipte zichzelf weer terug in het water. Het is een lelijke vis met vleugels die zo lang zijn als hun romp, gemiddeld 15 tot 25 cm.
Vannacht had ik een droom dat ik zeilde door de straten van Reeuwijk met een catamaran.
Annemieke en ik durfden niet de plassen op te gaan want daar stond een behoorlijke golfslag. We hadden alleen een lange regenjas aan. Zal de zeemansgekte nu al bij mij aan het doorslaan zijn? Als je ziet hoe hoog hier de golven af en toe zijn en verder niets te zien.
Gisteren voor het eerst in dagen een groot Containerschip gezien op zo‚n 10 mijl afstand.
Morgen gewoon weer verder.

Cheers from the almost loopy crew on board Maverick Dream.

Into the Tropics - day 6

2007-12-01T07:28:00.000-08:00

We have found our way to the trade winds. We made a ceremony out of moving the dining table from inside to the aft deck. It is now warm enough to eat outside, and nobody is happier about that than my stomach. Last night, we dined in high style on dorado, mashed potatoes, and peas. Cap'n Mark declared that it would be smooth sailing from here on out, with the wind and the waves at our backs. Cap'n Mark is a dirty, filthy, no-good liar.

Near the end of our luxurious meal, the winds changed and the waves tested us. At one point, Louis came very close to having everything on the table moved to his lap. We spent the night on a heading of 290 degrees. If we stayed on that track, we would make landfall in Boston, or maybe Halifax. The only options the winds gave us were to head more northerly, at 290 degrees, or due south. Hellooooo Rio. Mark and Louis chose the northerly direction because we could get more speed. Barry's argument, that going at a high rate of speed in the wrong direction just makes you more wrong, faster, fell on deaf ears. The only real difficulty with this heading was the question of comfort. Our little boat was once again thrashed by waves coming at us from the starboard side. Trying to sleep in our bunks was like trying to sleep inside a giant clothes washer.

During the day, it's a different matter. The sea is relatively calm, and the sun is shining. We do, in fact, have the steady 20 knot westerly trade winds pushing us ever-closer to St. Lucia. Right now, flying fish are jumping all around the boat and blue skies prevail. We've just finished eating lunch and everybody is retiring to their chill-out spots. Barry, who did not sleep last night because of the waves, is kipping on the aft deck. Tom is in his quarters, also sleeping. Mark is inside, headphones on, watching yet another really bad B movie. Louis and I are up top.

We are half a day ahead of where the Maverick Dream was during last year's ARC. In spite of the challenges of existing on a tiny chunk of fiberglass atop an endless expanse of ocean, we are all well. Nobody has seen another boat in the past two days. In spite of Polly's reports back on our position, I choose to believe they are all behind us.

Ode to the Head

2007-11-30T08:40:00.000-08:00

The day leading up to that hellish night had been wonderful. Barry made crepes for lunch, and demonstrated his flipping skills and sea legs. We were surrounded by scores of dolphins, who came charging at us in hopes of finding a new playmate or a pancake. I can think of no other wild animal whom I would welcome so readily as they charged at us. Monarch butterflies, maybe ... but they don't really charge, do they?

Oh yes; and I caught my first Dorado. The reel started spinning, and Tom said, "Fish! FISH!" This, of course is a Dutch phrase which means, "I happen to know that the one who reels in the fish must also clean the fish". With technical assistance from Barry, I did just that, and there was fish on the table for dinner.

Sadly, the next day was lost for your scribe, dear reader. Anyone who drinks three cups of coffee a day knows the cold turkey misery that occurs when you skip two days. The java monkey will abide one missed day, but may the good lord help you on day two. On day two, the Java Monkey playfully jumps on your chest and kicks you in the head. Here in the vast expanses of the Atlantic, he made fast friends with a thousand Sea Monkeys. It was this unholy alliance that descended upon me at 04:00, during my watch. They had all lurked quietly like unruly pre-schoolers on a time-out, until a squall kicked up behind us and rocked and pushed our boat faster and faster into the inky darkness.

Cap'n Mark awoke and came up to the wheel when he heard the tell-tale sounds of his boat rapidly gaining speed. We both eyed the squall as it spun around behind us, and watched the compass and wind direction readings. Meanwhile, 1,001 monkeys kicked and pulled and laughed at their luck. For two hours this went on; the wind shifts, the instruments, the monkeys, and the lurching. All spinning around me, like Dorothy in the twister scene of the Wizard of Oz - if Dorothy had eaten clams and liver with tequila the night before. By 05:30, it was apparent who would win this tug-of-war for my well being. I explained to Mark that I may need for him to completely take over my watch, as I had a bit of a problem.

"Stomach," I managed as I jumped down the steps and lay prostrate on the deck, looking down at the aft steps. Demons come OUT! There was an exorcism, and I was born again, if only for a moment. I walked back up top and explained that I felt so much better and thank goodness that's over and all is well now and perhaps I'll have a lie-down for a moment.

I awoke nine hours later and forced myself to go in the head and shave. I immediately lay back down on the aft-most seats. Louis calls it The Puking Couch.

This fine morning has been much kinder. Blue skies with puffy clouds. Barry says Polly calls them Sit-upon Clouds. We are frequently visited by flying fish. They look like with moths fluttering just above the water. They emerge, fly for about 25 meters, then plunge back in the ocean. Sometimes, instead of plunging back in, one will run across the waves on its tail fin. Seriously. I don't blame you if you don't believe it. It's the weirdest thing I've seen since high school. But that is what they do.

This morning Mark and Louis have each caught a Dorado. Dinner plans are made, and nothing is coming out of the freezer. We had a good sized Tuna on the line, so Louis picked up the reel while Mark and I ran to the bow to take down the sail. With a 25 knot wind speed, we were unable to bring in the spinnaker. The tuna got away, but in our sail struggle we discovered a superior positioning. It now flies higher, and we are moving 1.5 knots faster. Hang on Polly! Hang on Ellen! Your men are coming for ya. We do miss our sweethearts. Especially in my seasick misery, there was a gaping maw of malaise over the emptiness where my wife and kids and life are supposed to be. The fever has broken now. The gut pains are gone. The sun is shining. When we get home, there will be joyful reunions, Christmas, and stories. Lots and lots of stories.

ODE TO THE HEAD

Crapper, oh crapper
I hate you so much
Your chemical stench
makes my gut muscles clutch

You lurk below decks
you never come look for me
you know you can't lose
I will come back eventually

Crapper, oh crapper
I now understand
it is you who has made me
a once a day man

What sadistic mind
thought to build you below?
all around, open space
where we'd happily go

Crapper, damn crapper
you are the most cursed
no gas station $#!7hole
could knock you from first

~fin~

DutchARC301107
De voorlaatste nacht was heel helder op af en toe een donkere wolk met wat regen na.

Zeker in het begin van de avond zag je onnoemelijk veel sterren, zo veel dat je met een boek over de sterren in de hand kon je nog geen beslissing maken welk sterrenbeeld het zou kunnen was. Gisteravond precies hetzelfde ook mede omdat de maan niet in ons beeld was. Vanmorgen echter zag je alleen nog de belangrijke sterren waardoor we nu 2 vaste punten hebben kunnen bepalen. We hebben de Bettelgeuze en de Dolfijn. Hiermee gaan we vanavond verder.

Ook vandaag weer 2 vissen gevangen die we vanavond eten. Louis heeft helaas een tonijn niet kunnen binnenhalen omdat we de boot niet langzamer konden laten varen. Regelmatig komen de vliegende vissen langs naast elke dag al een poosje de dolfijnen.

Volgens Mark hebben we nu de Tradewinds,een constante Nood-Ooster wind van 15 tot 20 knopen. We vliegen over het water.

Vandaag weer vers brood tussen de middag. Ons leven is goed.

Groet.

De crew van de Maverick Dream

4th whole day at sea

2007-11-29T12:09:00.000-08:00

This is Cap'n Mark writing today, since our boat scribe Keith has been feeling a bit under the weather (only a tad seasick and now getting better) and has been sleeping all day, now spread out on the back deck along with the chef (Note open mouth of chef just waiting for insertion of carrot or suchlike).

We've been running under our red spinnaker alone for more than the last 24 hours now, with the occasional windy and rainy squalls coming through at 25 knots, praying that it holds up (north sails says it is good for up to 25 knots apparent wind). Our speed increases to 10 knots when this happens, but mostly we are pottering along at a leisurely 6 to 7 knots with 15 knots of wind. Showed the crew how to use the automatic heading function of the autopilot, since we want the wind directly behind us at all times. If not for that we would be constantly changing course manually to adjust. Heading ranges between 220 and 260 degrees.

Dinner was great last night...stir fry with chicken, and a whole baked dorado stuffed with lemons as well. Keith caught that although he was loath to kiss it. He also learned how to clean it as well. We aren't short of food yet. When we do run out, we can always eat Tom. Anything tastes good with ketchup.

Had a huge school of dolphins again, but so far no whales. Last year we had a 30 foot whale surfing down the waves alongside us for 3 days. Thinking perhaps he could mate with us 2 upside down whales?

Chatted again with Talulah Ruby, who were ahead of us by 12 miles..grrr..I thought we would catch them up during the fast sprints in squalls, but no...they slipped over the horizon again when we slowed down in the aftermath. Now as I look out the window there is a boat with a red and white spinnaker. Wonder who they are. Have to call on the VHF and see.

Thanks for sms messages from friends and family, nice to get them. Till tomorrow, but as always a postscript in Dutch. One of these days I shall find out what he is writing.

Op dit moment zeilen we met de spinnaker pal voor de wind van ongeveer 13 knopen met een snelheid van 5.7.
Het is nu erg gemakkelijk omdat ook de windcontrol aangezet is. Wanneer de wind draait, b.v. vanwege een bui in de buurt, dan slaat het alarm aan en druk je een knopje in zodat de boot automatisch weer voor de wind gaat zeilen.
Ondanks golfslag en toch de geluiden van een varende en af en toe zeer snel varende boot kunnen Louis en ik uitstekend slapen. Wij hebben geen problemen. Je weet niet hoe snel een dag om is aan boord. Je doet heel weinig maar de tijd vliegt. Van vliegende vissen heel veel dolfijnen praten over eten en gezellig keutelen.
Zelfs het douchen is heerlijk.
Het boek pak ik ook regelmatig om ergens op een rustig plekje wat te lezen.
Jullie zien nu hoe mooi het is om aan boord te zijn.
Á demand.

Fish 'n' pancakes

2007-11-28T11:13:00.000-08:00

"I am not so proud of this one." Louis eyed the mahi mahi he had reeled in from the fishing pole mounted to the aft deck. Granted, it was half the size of the beast he hauled in last week, but it was large enough to afford five portions at dinner time. As soon as the reel had started singing, Mark had the boat hove-to. Louis hauled in the 100 meters of line in quick fashion. Once in the net, it was only moments later that Barry had the fish cleaned and in the refrigerator. Such agility and grace has not been seen at anytime since then.

As the afternoon wore on yesterday, the winds got tricky again. The sails would puff to life, then deflate completely, and snap full again. Three times, at least, the gennaker sail did this and got momentarily hung-up on the large, round radar which is mounted to the mast. Each time this happened, one of us would make a slight course adjustment, and the sail would free itself and go back into its natural position. The mood was light as we sang The Irish Rover and made jokes about each other's countries. The gennaker flopped behind the radar again. The course adjustment was again made, but the sail remained stuck. By the time it freed itself, it was too late. It snapped back into place, but then immediately made a terrible tearing sound as we watched our second and last gennaker form a horizontal tear all the way across. After Louis and I wrestled the remnants to the deck and stuffed it into a bag to stow it away, we all sat quietly. Mark was philosophical. "These things happen," was all he said.

The loss of the gennaker sail was not catastrophic for us, though it may well slow us down a bit. We still have two sails aloft and hope they last the journey. It was more of a sobering event that reminds us how quickly things can go awry at sea. I now know exactly what it means to have something "take the wind out of your sails".

Overnight, the wind died down again and we maintained a more westerly course for the sake of comfort while the crew slept. When I went to the bridge to take the wheel for my 03:30 watch, Louis pointed out a couple of boats on the far horizon and said it would be quite a boring shift. I made myself busy by tidying the ropes and singing to myself as I watched the two boats slip out of view. The moon was covered by clouds and the night got darker.

At 05:05 I noted a green light far off our port side and back a bit. It was so far off that the light was fuzzy as it mingled with the seascape. Ten minutes later, the green light was a bit brighter, indicating that the boat was drawing closer and on a slightly more northerly course. I mused over how long it would take for our boats to intersect. At 05:30, I saw a red light beside the green light. This meant that the boat was now facing us. I thumped three times with my foot to wake the captain. This is our signal that he is needed. My thumping was too quiet, so I thumped again. The boat was now clearly drawing closer. I hopped down the steps and into the main cabin.

"MARK."

"HUHWHA," came the reply.

"There is a boat approaching. It's coming from ..."

"I see it," he said as he sat up looking out the window.

In the time it took to get back up to the wheel, the boat had come to within 30 meters of us. It was a beautiful large yacht with two masts running alongside us. They probably wanted to see our ARC number. Five minutes later, their crew grew tired of toying with us and pulled away, crossing our bow and heading northwest.

Tom and Louis just laughed when I told them about it later. "Ya, that's ok," Louis said, "terrorize the night shift ... it's fun. I would do the same thing."

sunrise

We are now tacking southerly again as the wind is more cooperative. Our chart thus far is almost exactly the same path as last year's ARC trek. I'll be home as soon as I can, Ellen. Our estimated time of arrival into St. Lucia is the 12th of December, but don't write it in stone. Sails rip. "These things happen"."

pancakes

Bye from the violently insane crew aboard Maverick Dream...but a last aside in Dutch:

De stemming is uitstekend ondanks het verlies van de 2de gennaker. Op dit moment zitten Barry en Keith boven en Louis en Mark in de salon een film te bekijken.

De wind de afgelopen nacht was matig waardoor we wat aan afstand hebben ingeboet. Nu proberen we dat weer goed te maken. Heel belangrijke momenten zijn wanneer de lijn van de hengel vanzelf begint te lopen dan zit er een vis aan. Iedereen gaat dan rennen de een pakt de hengel een ander het net en de rest gaat de boot langzamer laten varen. Zo even zaten er 2 vissen van 50 cm aan de lijn die ze beiden hebben teruggegooid. Prachtige vissen maar niet groot genoeg. Kleine die dingen maken de dag zo nog leuker. Gisteren had Louis nog een vis die we als lunch gebruikt hebben. Overheerlijk! De meer technische dingen schrijft Keith in het log.

Till tomorrow.

Day 2 the time is NOW!

2007-11-27T06:05:00.000-08:00

After a lackluster night with very little wind, we have had a much better morning. We spent the overnight doing 4 and 5 knots with wind speeds around 10 or 11 knots. Around 03:30, as I came to take over the watch, Louis was highly bothered to see a boat to our starboard moving in and overtaking us. We are not racing, but we do have our pride. At the time, we were sailing with mainsail out toward port and the gennaker out to starboard. That is; the older, bright red gennaker, not the black and orange gennaker that was torn on day one. As the other boat gained, Louis was forced by competitive nature to make a sail change. We moved the gennaker to the port side and changed our course from 270 degrees to 255. This put the wind, what little there was of it, behind and to the right of us. I have learned that this is the wind direction that catamarans like best. The only problem was, instead of aiming straight for St. Lucia, we were now pointing at the Bahamas. We have plenty of distance ahead of us to correct our course.

After the sun rose, the winds were a little more kind. After several more scene changes with the sails, we are currently moving comfortably at around 9 to 11 knots, with winds around 18. The mainsail, spinnaker, and gennaker are all full.

Around 09:00, we had guests. A large school of dolphins surrounded us. Mark ignored my warnings that these looked like bloodthirsty killer dolphins. They had him fooled into believing they were the playful, cuddly sort. Mark lay on his stomach at the bow and hung down with his hand in the water. The dolphins responded by drawing closer and swimming on their sides to get a better look. I continued filming, in order to document the impending catastrophe for the $10,000.00 prize on America's Funniest Home Videos. Tom was speaking in non-stop Dutch. Probably saying some pagan death prayer, who knows? Who knows.

"They're sizing you up! They do that just before they move in. They're a vicious pack of sea-dogs!" Mark was ignoring my warnings and cooing baby talk to them. "We gotta get a bigger boat," I mumbled. Luck was on his side, as the mob spied something even more delicious somewhere down below the watery depths. In a moment, they melded back into the sea. They were gone. I watched the waters warily. " ... we gotta get a bigger boat ... "

We are now living quite comfortably, with the waves coming toward us from the stern instead of the starboard side. Mark spoke to the good ship Xenia via VHF radio yesterday. They contacted us to ask who we were and scold us for having the unmitigated impertinence of being in front of them. The Xenia is a very fast Swan 46, and Mark had trouble keeping his humility in check. At this moment, have the Talulah Ruby in sight as they pass behind us on a course of 255 degrees. As I write, we are running at 8.5 knots. The children onboard the Talulah Ruby are urging their captain to overtake us, but their speed is currently 6.5 knots. Their captain reports one child and one adult with seasickness, and he is prudently maintaining 6.5 knots. I imagine the kids who are not seasick are ... less than understanding. EAT OUR WAKE SPRAY, PUNKS! I mean that only in the nicest possible way.

Barry is keeping us well fed. Spaghetti bolognese for dinner last night. Porridge for breakfast. He has become quite adept at running the galley as it teeters and totters. If it were up to me, we'd be eating uncooked rice for every meal. Hats off to Barry.

And words from our Dutch crew , Louis and his father Tom
Weer een berichtje van Louis en Tom
Na een goede wacht zonder problemen voor allen hebben we vanmorgen al weer het een en ander meegemaakt. Alle kleine dingen worden belangrijk.
Louis had een kleine dorade aan de haak maar die vond het niet leuk om opgehaald te worden dus die vertok maar weer. Na een wisseling van gennaker naar spinaker toch maar weer terug naar gennaker omdat dat deze meer snelheid geeft en stabieler is. Er zijn nu 2 boten in de buurt waar we contact mee hebben via de marifoon. Een kwam een beetje te dicht bij dus hebben we maar 3 zeilen opgezet en gaan we weer volop.
Ook een leuke ontmoeting met dolfijnen gehad die behoorlijk lang in de buurt bleven. Je kon ze voorop de punt bijna aanraken.
Hasta maÀana

cheers from the well fed crew (and surprisingly not sea sick)
Mark, Louis, Barry, Tom and Keith

Day 2 Back to the Future

2007-11-27T06:03:00.000-08:00

Having some difficulty getting this post through from the year 2080

Faraway lives up to her name...

2007-11-26T05:57:00.000-08:00

237 sailboats circled a tiny area, waiting. Just beyond the well-wishers on the shoreline, a warship to port side and a large yellow buoy to starboard marked the starting line of the 2007 ARC. The racing boats were already full sail, speeding back and forth in the crowd of boats, coming within a few meters of the cruisers as they warmed up. Their crews were intense, shouting, disciplined men dressed in uniform gear. A rainstorm had passed, soaking the crowds onshore. In its wake was a sunny sky and placid sea. At last, a single petard was fired from the warship, and the racers were off. Exactly twenty minutes later, at 13:00, we would be too. Cap'n Mark steered the Maverick Dream toward the commercial port where container ships are loaded and unloaded. The port blocked the wind and provided a safe place to raise the mainsail. We faced directly into what wind there was, and the sail was deployed. Mark then jockeyed us back toward the starting line. All a matter of timing now. Too fast, and we would have to turn and circle around toward the back of the pack. Luck was on our side. As we came near, another petard was fired, and we were off.

As a school of playful dolphins escorted us past the Canary Islands and the coast of Africa, we were greeted by 30 knot winds. Our position put us in line with the white capped waves. Rather than riding up a wave and down the other side, we were surfing. The gennaker sail was deployed; a splash of black and orange sail stood out sharply against the white boat, white mainsail, and white jenoa sail at the bow. The sun was smiling. The winds were strong. We were moving fast, topping 17 knots at times - a full ten knots above what Barry might describe as "cooking speed".

Louie stood on the platform behind the ship's wheel, a satisfied smile on his face. For the first time in weeks, he said, he was not congested. Tom also looked quite satisfied. Barry and I were very happy to at last be underway, but we had our own problems to resolve. Our speed and position on the waves meant that the boat was coming to the troughs at a diagonal. The starboard side bow would plunge into the water first, then the the boat would right itself. The entire boat would then rock violently to port before coming even. But there was not a lot of coming even.

Within the first 180 minutes, we had our first tragedy. The black and orange gennaker had flopped listlessly for a only a moment, then a gust filled the sail. The sail, however, was at a strange angle, and a tear developed at the top. Within seconds, the tear had shredded all the way to the bottom. The gennaker was in tatters and destroyed. Our speed did not subside.

Not one hour later, as Barry and I struggled to find our legs in the galley, we came to the bottom of a particularly large wave. The starboard bow tucked deeply into the sea, scooping up several hundred gallons of water which washed across the deck. The power of that water forced open one of the port windows atop the deck, and about 15 gallons of the sea made its way into the captain's quarters. Happily, the bed where Barry sleeps was missed, but the water covered blankets, cushions, and a lot of floor. While we cleaned the mess, Louie rigged some exercise weights atop the window, which will keep out the majority of the sea until something else is worked out.

Barry faced the near impossibility of preparing food in the galley. I, in turn, face the very-near possibility that I might start yacking and never stop. Like some mythical beast on the stern, I would howl into the night with a gap-jawed cry that would keep away all sea monsters. We each worked hard to stay out in front of our demons, and we emerged somewhat victorious. Barry laid a table of mashed potatoes and cheese, salad, bread, and water. There may have been other things as well; I did not spend much time looking at the food. I was in bed by 20:30, my stomach being rocked to sleep.

Tom and Barry took the first night watch, then Mark, then Louie. I awoke around 02:30 and went up top to try to get some sailing lessons from one of the best. Only two other boats were in sight. After Louie left, I watch them like they were mad dogs who might overtake us at any moment. The sails banged around a lot during my 03:30 to 06:00 watch. Mark came up and trimmed them accordingly. We have all had breakfast of Muesli and fruit. Tom has the audacity to attempt to bake a loaf of bread as we continue to hurtle forward into our first full day at sea.

More tomorrow
cheers from cap'n Mark, skipper Louis, pirate Tom, chef Barry and boat scribe Keith

oh..and here's a little something from Tom for those able to read Dutch..it's all Greek to me.

Zielsroerselen van Tom
Je weet niet waar je aan begint om 16 tot 18 dagen aan boord te gaan voor een oversteek zonder land te zien.
Wat ik denk is een belangrijke voorwaarde is kan de bemanning door één deur met elkaar en is de boot wel comfortabel genoeg.
De start van een week voor de start met elkaar te zijn was een goede test.
Op de avond van de 25 ste gingen we de 1ste wachten draaien met als supervisors Mark en Louis voor de aanpassingen aan zeilvoering en koers.
Ook die test hebben we goed doorstaan. De ochtendwacht van 6.00 uur tot 8.00 uur is het mooiste want dan komt de zon op.
Morgen gaan we verder

Hasta Luego, Gran Canaria

2007-11-24T00:07:00.000-08:00

~~~

When we awake tomorrow, there will be no cafés. The sidewalk lottery ticket sellers will be no more. The sidewalks themselves will be a memory. When we awake tomorrow, there will be no internet. Who sang that song? The answer will have to come from somewhere other than Google.

So long, pavement.

No more popping down to the local mercado for a loaf of bread, a cup of espresso, or perhaps 400 hams on the hoof.

We have taken the Maverick Dream out to sea to test the sails, the generator, the instruments. On the way back in to port, we put diesel in her tanks, but very few hours will be spent running the two Volvo engines. This crossing will be made with strong tradewinds at our backs and sails aloft.

This morning as the sun rose, we caught a glimpse of what our next two to three weeks will look like. Five guys, from very different backgrounds, in a fiberglass tub. The boat is as big as four parallel parking spaces. A luxury of space, to be sure. There are many many smaller monohulls of 10 meters making the journey with us.

As we pull away from the dock in the morning, and line up for the Grand Start, we say goodbye to land and all its connotations. Our world will dramatically shrink, and the importance of good manners will be clear.

Every Saturday at the Real Club Nautico in Las Palmas, a children's sailing club comes to learn to sail . They are taught how to rig their Optimist boats, how to navigate, and what to do if there is trouble. Then, they push their little boats into the sea, and give it all a try.

While we are at sea, I will keep a daily journal and log our position. If you would like to follow our progress, you can.

Our position will be posted daily, HERE. You can track us using Google Earth as well on that page. Ellen in Virginia will copy and paste our journal entries HERE and Polly in Malta, will post to the boat site.

There will be a lot fewer pictures. While at sea, we will only upload one image a day, using the satellite phone.

The decks are swabbed. Everything is stowed. What little clothing we have is a cleaned. We've stolen our last hot showers at the pool locker room. Are we ready to set sail? Yes, we are. Starting tomorrow, we will all be Optimists.

Buena Mar.

Weather Outlook for the Start Saturday 24th November High pressure is intensifying to the west of Biscay near 45N 25W, and a small area of low pressure is over N Africa moving to the east. This is giving us a moderate to strong N to NE’ly flow. This will continue for the next 24 hours, moderating Sunday morning. The air is unstable making the occasional shower likely. A band of rain is expected to cross the Canary Islands during tonight. Today the wind will be N-NE force 4 to 5 occasionally 6 with the chance of showers and some sunshine. The temperature is expected to reach 25-27C depending on the number of showers that we get. On Sunday the wind will be N-NE force 4-5 occasionally 6 easing during the afternoon, however there will be a significant acceleration zone near the south of the island. Barometer reading at Las Palmas airport at 0830 : 1020mb

~~~

Tick Tock

2007-11-23T00:51:00.000-08:00

~~~

As we draw ever closer to the launch date of Sunday at 13:00 hours (GMT), the local stores, boat shops, and repair shops are becoming more and more frenetic. 250 or so boats with crews from one person to 10 or even 12 are flying the ARC flag. A large number of these sailors do not speak Spanish or English. Conversations in stores often begin in halting Español.
"¿Ehhhh uhhh habla Ingles?"
"Mmmmmno. Eh, un poquito, para ... no."
Then the dancing begins. The two attempt to pantomime the particulars.

"Very impressive, but I'm still not going out with you."

Yesterday, we hit the Corte Ingles grocery store again to purchase fruits, vegetables, frozen vegetables, and meat. We bought a huge piece of beef that cost around £100.00. The butcher kept asking, "¿Todo?". Si, todo.

Last night, around 21:30, all that stuff was delivered to the boat. We are now heaving with food and water. As the trek across the Atlantic progresses, the boat will get lighter and the crew heavier.

Gettin' all carnivorous

This morning there was more scurrying around the island. Skipper Louis and I exchanged dirty jokes in a tackle shop while they repaired our main fishin' pole. We also found holistic meds for his stubborn sinusitis (thank you, Ellen, for the recommendations), and continued to try to kill the life raft issue by using shuttle diplomacy between the ARC offices and the Ino.

Many thanks are in order for Polly in Malta, who helped track down paperwork in the UK for the aforementioned life raft. Cap'n Mark worked that issue from Las Palmas. A new wrinkle has arisen from the probability that the good ship Ino may be taking-on a fifth crew member. If this indeed happens, they will need their 6 man raft back and we will need to look elsewhere for a boat with four or fewer and a raft for five or more.

Quite frankly, this reporter doesn't have a list of achievements for Barry and Tom, as I was trudging around the city all morning. I know, though, that they have been non-stop as well. Tonight, for the first time since our chef arrived, we will dine out. The Cap'n and his bride are attending a soiree, and the rest of us want to save the food onboard for the trip. THE TRIP! We are 44 hours away from The Crossing.

Weather for Las Palmas 20 November 2007 There is a complex area of low pressure that extends from the UK to Portugal and west to Madeira where there is a small depression. This will give us an unstable south westerly airstream with the chance of rain and showers. During today the wind will be SW force 4-5 offshore, although we are sheltered in the port of Las Palmas, where the wind will be lighter and more variable. The temperature will reach 25C during today feeling colder in showers. The wind will stay from the SW until late tomorrow when it will veer to the west then northwest as the tail end of a cold front passes over the Canary Islands. The outlook for the start is for a moderate north-easterly trade wind.

~~~

Scavengers and Pilgrims

2007-11-22T23:27:00.000-08:00

~~~

Editor's note: Portions of this entry were written on Wednesday, and continued on Thursday. Sorry for the confusing timeline.

Wednesday, 21 November:

06:30 - Awoke to go for a swim in the local pool before we headed out to sea for a trial run.

07:30 - Exhausted, but feeling "oh-so alive", we trudged back to the cat for a quick bowl of cereal and coffee before we headed out to sea for a trial run.

08:00 - Realized we were in need of bread, fishing lead weights, 80 lb. line, non-slip stuff for the countertop, rubbing alcohol, and nylon washers. Headed out on foot to hunt and gather before we headed out to sea for a trial run.

09:00 - Returned to the boat to find Mark and Louis had set-off to make purchase of one (1) 70 meter length of Extra Special Rope before we headed out to sea for a trial run.

09:00 to 10:00 - Tidied up and cleaned stuff before we headed out to sea for a trial run.

10:00 Realizing a morning sail was not going to happen, we made plans for an afternoon sail. Went back wifi hotspot to chat with Ellen, whom I miss terribly and my little Rosellen, the best 10 year old in the world.

AFTERNOON - Zhenya and Galina come aboard and begin preparing a simple Russian lunch of fish and vegetables to eat before we headed out to sea for a trial run.

15:00 - Lunch is ready, galley is trashed. We eat, clean up, and chat amicably before we headed out to sea for a trial run.

16:00 - Discussions begin regarding the methodology needed to replace the rope that is used to hoist the mainsail. The existing rope looked pretty good, but not great. A new rope is expensive, but an earlier debate deemed it a necessary expenditure. This debate seems to happen time and again on the boat. It's a cost/benefit analysis, but the side that supports replacement always holds a trump card.

*The rope that is there will probably last through this run, and can be replaced after.
*The rope is very expensive.
*If the existing rope fails, we lose the main sail. We could do a repair at sea, but that is risky.
*TRUMP CARD: Is it worth the cost to ensure our safety?

It was agreed that this would be done before we headed out to sea for a trial run.

17:00 - We ain't going out today.

The mast is about 20 meters high. Louis took the lead job of harnessing up and being hoisted aloft. Mark was lead ground guy. The rest of us played supporting roles and pointed out to Louis that he should "take care" and "be careful" and "take care".

Louis stepped into the harness, tied a bowline knot from a rope already attached to a block atop the mast, tied the new rope on to his harness, and we used the electric winch to hoist him aloft. Tom fed new rope up as the harness rose and made sure it stayed clear of hazards. Once he was at the top, Louis replaced the existing spreader pin in the pulley up top and did some regular maintenance. Next he tied the new rope to the end of the old rope. From below, we waited for Mark's direction to heave-ho. We pulled the old rope down through the center of the metal mast, and in so doing, also pulled the new rope up.

The Flying Dutchman

"I should change these pants ..."

The operation was an elegant success. When Louis was back safely on-deck, we gave manly nods all around. After the new rope was fed through the jammer thingy that locks it down tight, we discovered another problem. One of the jammer thingies was busted. It is spring-loaded, and the spring had given out. Dear oh dear.

Thursday, 22 November:

*The jammer that is there will probably last through this run, and can be replaced after.
*The jammer is very expensive.
*If the existing jammer fails, we lose the use of it. We could do a repair at sea, but that is risky.
*TRUMP CARD: Is it worth the cost to ensure our safety?

As I write, it is completely disassembled and we are en route to the parts shop.

The Jammer Thingy

Just the first delivery

In the galley, our chef is also very busy. The galley was full of cooking tools and foods that were useless for an Atlantic crossing. Barry has stowed the bread maker, numerous pots and pans, and many many leftover foods have been tossed. Barry has also overseen provisioning for the trip. A local grocery here caters to boats and will deliver to the dock. We received the first delivery of non-perishables earlier this week. On Wednesday, we took delivery again - this time for semi-perishables. We will get a last delivery on Friday or Saturday for fruits and vegetables and anything else that spoils. In all, Barry estimates that we are carrying 1,000 pounds of food. We are also carrying about 835 pounds of water - 100 liters (26ish gallons). As we use the water, we will refill the plastic 5 liter bottles from the tap. The boat has a water filtration system that makes sea water potable. It doesn't taste good - it's quite briny - but if we were to run out of spring water, we will still be ok.

Mark food.

While in the marina, we are being wildly wasteful with our water, food, and power consumption. Once the sails go up, a lot more thought is required. For example, we will rarely open the tiny freezer. If we catch a fish, it will be put in the fridge first, then the freezer. Putting a fish directly into the freezer would have the effect of warming everything else inside, and making the system have to work very hard to cool it back to freezing.

Today is Thanksgiving in the U.S.. Hello with much love to David, Kelly, Keith, Emily, Rosellen, and most importantly among these most important people, my Ellen. They are all gathering at my home for a feast and to give thanks for all the great gifts we have. Even though I am not there, my heart is. They are the ones who support me while I am off on this wonderful adventure. For you, my family, I am most thankful. You make me proud in the way you take care of each other ... and me. A storm moved through this morning. It will be afternoon before we head out to sea for a trial run.

Ellen. And some handsome guy who isn't me. Hey, what the HELL!??!

~~~

ALL HOPE IS LOST! no wait ... it's ok. Sorry.

2007-11-20T22:19:00.000-08:00

~~~

Today the officials of ARC told Cap'n Mark that we could not sail unless we got a new, larger life raft. The one onboard now is certified to carry four Desperate Souls. ARC cleverly pointed out that we have five potentially desperate souls. Our argument was strong; we could easily fit five on the raft if needed, and our route is so well-traveled, we would not have to wait all that long before being scooped out of the briny deep.

ARC were not impressed.

Forgetting for a moment that a new life raft would cost around £4,000.00 pound sterling (that's around $78,860,093.92 dollars - U.S.), the more damning fact is that we could not purchase one in time. We had a very real problem.

Salvation happened a few hours later. Jim, the captain of the British monohull "Ino" most graciously agreed to trade his 6-person life raft for our 4-person, since he has a crew of four. When we arrive in St. Lucia, we will trade back. If not for this, we would have been in trouble. Safety in numbers, even before we head out to sea!

As it stands now, we could actually carry one extra person in our life raft. Therefore, if the boat sinks and we are forced to get in the life raft, we could still pluck one other even-more desperate soul out of the sea. Heroes! That's us. How could someone be an even more desperate soul? Perhaps they had been watching Bee Movie and they jumped.

It's been repeatedly stated, by many a seasoned sailor, that it is better in an emergency to stay with the real boat if at all possible. Dudley, a crewman on the Ino, put it best when he said, "One should never step down to get into a life raft; only up."

1st runner-up in the quotes department was that guy in that movie who mumbled repeatedly, "never gitoutta the boat ...never gitoutta the boat ... " Of course, if memory serves, I believe that he had just been attacked by a "F***** tiger".

This morning, Barry, Tom, and Keith walked to a nearby bakery for fresh bread.

After which, we crossed the street for a cup of espresso. While it was quite good, Barry is not used to the strong stuff. He finished his, but I don't think he enjoyed it like we did. He said it was too much, but Tom said he needed it in order to turn into a pirate.

Please don't mention to Tom's wife that he is a pirate.

~~~

No flag, no country!

2007-11-19T02:16:00.000-08:00

~~~

Keith, Louis, Tom, Galina, Mark, Zhenya, and Barry

On Sunday, Crew and Captains of all ARC participant boats paraded around the shark-infested harbor in a display of international cooperation that made the U.N. look like a dysfunctional and archaic entity. Ahem.

Many of us, including the crew of Maverick Dream, did not promenade together. Instead, we each walked under the flag of our home country. In our case, Tom and Louis held the flag of the Netherlands.

Tom and Louis

Zhenya and Galina represented well their homeland of Russia.

Galina and Zhenya

Mark was asked to do the honor of carrying the European Union flag, and Barry (England by birth, Malta as his home, with 36 other addresses in his career) joined him.

Mark (with EU flag) and Barry (waving)

I walked with the Americans, or, fat people. We all made the circuit around the harbor in grand fashion, along with proud countrymen from countless other countries.

Tum tee tum can you seeeee

Ze Germans

The parade was not long, but it was filled with the spirit of the ARC event. All of us have been busy preparing for the long journey westward, and the anticipation is palpable. Each time we met a new person, we were greeted with a real smile and a firm handshake. There is a subtle message in each of these encounters; we are all well aware that, should we get into a difficult situation at sea, the closest of any one of these people would come to our aid. And vicé versa. That was the serious side of this display. The other, much more overt side of it was an iteration that these are people who love to live, and know how to laugh - except Sean and Xavier (they know what they did).

Once the parade ended, we gathered and held a flag raising ceremony.

The band played on, while a skinny Santa Clause (or two) threw flour in the air and a group of Vikings tussled amongst a throng of pirates. This was foreshadowing of the Grand Dinghy Race that was about to begin.

The object of the Dinghy Race, as far as we could tell, was to cheat, swindle and befuddle your way to an ill-defined finish line in the water. The first one to do so ... was declared nothing ... as no declarations were made. Mostly, it was a chance to put others into the tainted waters before they could do the same. While these high jinx were ongoing, many of us had already started remembering all the work that must be done before we could begin the audacious undertaking of piloting a floating camper across one of the planet's largest bodies of water.

Today has been about that very business. We attended a seminar on boat rigging, picked up hardware, flares, and a spare bucket from the boat shop, cruised the grocery store for preliminary items (more compete food details later), and arranged for the long-overdue purchase of a new dinghy for the Maverick Dream. This week of preparation seems like the team bus ride to a big game. There is an abundance of enthusiasm, but we are all checking our gear and making mental reviews of the play book.

~~~

Are zee papers een order?!?

2007-11-17T01:59:00.000-08:00

.
.

Today the Maverick Dream was boarded by a Safety Inspector for the World Cruising Club. We were told to produce life vests, a grab bag of survival gear, flares, a life raft, a manual lever for steering the rudders should the wheel fall off, a knife, and a long list of other gear. With a couple of small exceptions, our craft passed inspection. The same fella will return on Tuesday morning to follow-up and make certain that we have a medical book and a certificate verifying that our life raft is up to snuff.

The inspection went something like this:

Inspector: "You will need _______ (insert some piece of safety equipment here), in case your craft were to sink."

Cap'n Mark: "Yes, we have that, but our craft will not sink. It is a catamaran, and they are extremely safe."

The inspector would look at our optimistic Cap'n and envision the skipper of the Titanic as he declared his craft unsinkable. This happened repeatedly, as one might imagine. With every declaration of confidence from Cap'n Mark, there came deeper inquisitions from the Inspector. It was, in fact, The Spanish Inquisition.

Not so unexpected.

Your humble scribe, for one, was pleased to have an Inspector who cared enough to distrust us and dig deeply.

We are already working out jobs on the boat, as well as a watch schedule:

During the day, all will be on watch.
6:00 pm to 8:00 - Dinner (all on watch)
8:00 pm to 10:00 pm - Barry and Tom (co-watchers)
10:00 pm to 1:00 am - Cap'n Mark
1:00 am to 3:30 am - First Mate Louis
3:30 am to 6:00 am - Keith

We're all comfortable with this schedule, because it puts Mark and Louis on watch during the most intense times. I am an early riser, and my watch means I get to watch the sun come up. Barry and Tom are early to bed types, so they too are happy. Neither Mark nor Louis have any faith at all in the rest of us, thus proving they are fit to lead. All happy.

In the next couple of days, we will take the boat out for a bit of fishing and a lot of training. In addition, we will be taking day classes on various safety and skills subjects. By the time we set sail for realsies, we will be a Swiss freaking watch.

We are getting on well, but I miss Ellen and Ro.

~~~