Here I Go Again (with any luck)

It's been a long while since I've had any adventures worth writing about, but with any luck that's about to change. I am heading off to sea on Halloween(October 31) for a sail to the Virgin Islands by way of Bermuda (though tropical depression Noelle thinks maybe not).
In any event you can catch all the news about the trip on the captain's web site at sailingallover.com. Stay tuned to this blog too. I'll provide details about this adventure later on.

"...If You Try Sometimes, You Just Might Find You Get What You Need" -- Rolling Stones

(continued from previous post) The hotel clerk arrived at 7 a.m. I was nearing the end of my minutes and wits as well. I explained the evening's drama, then had to do it all over again when the manager came in. So, out came the $4o, the unprocessed credit slip for the 2nd room, and a refund for my room that I didn't get to sleep in. Did I actually make money on that deal? Just then my phone died. I had half an hour to get to the airport. The manager said he'd keep a lookout for the taxi, then let me into my original room. I shoved everything into my duffels as best I could given the time I had, then hopped in the taxi that was already waiting for me. (I sat in front. You're meant to do that in Australia.)
The coach class queue at the Qantas desk was dismally long, so I went to the customer service desk to see about a seat in business class. Also, that line was much shorter. I started explaining the situation about having booked business with award miles when the agent looked at me like I was nuts, then asked me, "You do know that that flight has been canceled, don't you?"That would certainly explain why I'd been on hold for a half hour or more on my cell phone. As a result of the cancellation, all passengers on my flight were booked on the next flight, so there was barely a coach seat left for me, let alone one in business class. Oh, and by the way, my flight was canceled due to mechanical problems. A car hit the wing of the aircraft. I'm thinking both vehicles were on the ground at the time of impact.
Back in the coach queue I received a call from Russ. He started in telling me all about his misadventures with getting on the wrong ferry, having to back-track to the quay, and so forth. I'm afraid I won the "guess what happened last night after we left the restaurant" contest. Hands down, in fact. All that waiting in line for a boarding pass got me thinking. I figured that if I'd booked business class, they ought to allow me entry to the Qantas Lounge. So, back at the Customer Service desk, the same agent asked, "You again? What now"? Remember the bit about being at wits end? I served up my logic and won a pass to the lounge. Things were looking up. I had coffee and some sort of muffin before taking a long shower. When I emerged, I got online, replenished my phone card, downed two mimosas, and emerged from the lounge just in time to board. The best thing about being on board was not having to rush off anywhere for at least 13 hours.

Little Hotel of Horrors

After the Big Hit in Hamilton Island, I flew to Sydney and took the airport train to Central Station, where I caught another train to St. Peters Station, where I set off on foot to find the little hotel, Formule 1, that Alan had recommended that was "just a few blocks" from the train station. I kept walking and walking in what I felt should be the right direction (according to my little map). Sure enough, just as I was about to give up hope, there was the motel, sandwiched, as promised, between a McDonald's and KFC. A blind person could find this joint. Can't miss the smell of french fries and the colonel's oh-so-special secret recipe!
By the time I checked in, it was about 7 p.m. The hotel clerk gave me a key code for the key pad lock on the room, and told me to use the same code on the hotel door if I came back after 10 p.m. (after which time there would be no one on the desk). So off I went, back to the train station, to meet Russ (that's him above) for dinner in Kirribilli. We ate at an Indian restaurant and I must say that it was the best meal I'd had in 10 days. (After the bowl of frozen prawns I sent back to the kitchen on Hamilton Is., anything would have tasted great! But I digress.) A bottle of wine and a few stories later I was on the train again heading back to the hotel. I use the term hotel rather loosely. It was more like a dorm room hybridized with a port-a-pottie. (See the photo of the room and the bathroom below.) But it was all I really needed--just somewhere to shower and sleep for the last 2 nights in Sydney. I returned to my room to sleep off my goose egg.
In the morning I woke up slowly, showered, and had some muesli I'd brought along from Hamilton Is. Then I prepared for my last outing in Sydney. That included camera, sunglasses, book, maps, sweater, etc. etc. I'd be out all day and well into the evening. I did a lot: hopped on a ferry to the Maritime museum in Darling Harbor (see photo of Capt. Cook's Beagle replica below); walked to the Art Museum of NSW; walked back to the Quay via the botanical gardens (where I got a bit lost as the sun set...and the hordes of bats took to the air...and a park "ranger" told me the park closed at dark, but didn't offer to guide me to the gate!); walked to the Rocks and found a good ole pub where I had a pint and waited for Russ to join me for dinner on my last night in Sydney. We ate some sort of hybrid middle-eastern and Italian meal--a pizza with cous-cous and lamb? Anyway, the beer was good! And I was very happy to have company.
Russ had to rise early for a tennis match. I had to rise early to catch a plane. So I walked Russ to the Quay to catch a ferry back to Kirribilli, then I boarded a train back to the hotel. Except that I went the wrong way when I transferred, so had to back-track to Central Station and try again. It was sort of late and the trains weren't in any hurry to get me home. Then there was that walk from St. Peters station. By the time I arrived it was probably around 10:30. I was beat. I entered the code to get into the hotel "lobby." Hmm...that didn't seem to work. So I tried again. And again. Still no joy. Some other "guests" walked in, so I finally gained entry that way. Walked to my room, entered the key code, and hmm...that didn't seem to work either. So I tried again. And again. Still no joy. I was tired and was not enjoying this little challenge. I walked outside, wedged my knapsack in the door so I wouldn't me caught out again, and tried to retrieve my internet reservation from the ATM-like reservation kiosk. It kept refusing my information. I tried another credit card. No joy. In desperation I made an on-the-spot reservation for another room, thinking that at least I could sleep somewhere and then get things straightened out when the clerk returned to the desk at 7 a.m. So, the machine spat out a new room number and a new code, which actually worked to get me inside the hotel. With renewed confidence, I found the new room, entered the code (which worked!), opened the door, and found that the room was not made up. In fact it looked so recently-abandoned that I wasn't sure if the guests were coming back or not. The room spelled like smoke. There was an empty bottle of Moet on the counter and several other items of merriment strewn about. I've slept in some unsavory places before, but I wasn't about to sleep in that room...not even on the floor. Back to square 1. By now a few people had figured out that I was having a great deal of trouble. One of the "regulars" offered me his room for $4o AUD. He didn't need it and could stay with his friends in their room. $4o was all I had left in my wallet. I'd need some of it to get to the airport in the morning. Still, I really needed to sleep, so I took him up on his offer. He took me to the room and gave me the code. It was smoky, but the bed was made, so I felt like things were looking up! (No towels, or anything, and of course all my luggage was in a locked room--my room.) So then it was about midnight. There was but a flimsy latch on the inside of the door that served as a lock. That wouldn't offer much protection against someone breaking in, especially if that someone had the key code! So I slept fully dressed with all the lights on. I didn't have my Swiss Army knife, because I'd forgotten to remove it from my carry-on pack at the airport and had to hand it over to Mark in Canberra.
I set a cell phone alarm for 6 a.m. I wanted to call Qantas to see about getting a business class seat. After waiting on hold till almost 7 a.m., my phone ran out of minutes. (to be continued in the next post)

One Hit; One Myth

Finally got to circumnavigate something! So what if I had to pay for it, and it lasted only an hour. The boat was a 36' Catamaran called Adrenalin Rush. The breeze was slight, so hanging off in the trapeze was not that thrilling; my adrenalin strolled if anything. Needed bigger wind, so I called the skipper/owner, Keith Logan, the next morning for a weather forecast. He said that the winds were filling in, he'd take me from the harbour to Catseye Beach, and get me back in time to catch my flight to Sydney that afternoon, all for the low, low price of $AUD50.00 cash.
Keith picked me up from the Reef View hotel, where I'd stored my gear. We boarded the boat, along with the deckie (deck hand). Headed to windward and hoisted sail, then turned off the wind, toward the lee shore. Keith went forward to help the deckie with the centerboard; I was sitting amid ship on the trampoline. Seemed to me that we were awfully close to shore. Just as I had the impulse to run aft and grab the helm, the boat slammed into a coral head. The boat stopped dead, hurling the deckie overboard and into the net between the hulls. The momentum shot me forward where the rigid boom vang had a go at my head as the sail gybed. I was knocked down on my back. There was an awful lot of swearing coming from the skipper. A rather humongous goose egg was lain on my head. I marveled at how tough titanium must be to have held my neck together through the impact. Quite a hit!
The deckie checked for water intake, then was ordered into the dink (dingy) to push the boat off the reef and to turn it to head for a tack away from shore. Looked like the centerboard took a bit of a beating but the hull seemed sound. The deckie was ordered to survey the hull from the dink but could see nothing amiss. He took the dink around to Catseye Beach while Keith and I continued our little cruise as if nothing had ever happened.

So much for the hit. Here's the myth:
The myth: you can never go back. The reality: You can go back, but you may never figure out why you wanted to in the first place!

How to Make Enough Bread to Keep a Roof Over Your Head

There's nothing like travelling to make you aware of just how far a buck will get you. I stopped into a Technical Writing agency in Sydney to see about the chances of getting some work there. Unfortunately I'd need to be sponsored by a company in order to work in Australia, so the contractor thing is right out.

I was discussing the situation with the Georgelins when I stayed with them in Canberra. (Yes, I stayed with friends again, free-loader that I am.) Because my skills are not exactly in short supply, and because really I think an Australian could do my job, my chances of getting a company to sponsor me are nearly nil. I went on to say that although my work is somewhat mundane, and certainly not as creative as the special effects animation I was doing here before (and let's just throw in the fact that nobody ever reads the manuals I write), it does keep a roof over my head. Without missing a beat, the kids chimed in, "Yeah, someone else's roof!" Good on ya, mates.

To compensate in part for sharing their roofs, I made bread for the Rays and Georgelins. I think the recipe comes from the Silver Palate cookbook, published sometime last century. Here's how to make some bread (challah) to keep the roof over your head:

What you'll need:

2 c. milk

8 T. unsalted butter

1/2 c. sugar

2 pkgs. active dry yeast

4 eggs at room temp.

2 t. salt

6 c. unbleached all purpose flour

1/3 c. cornmeal (palenta will do)

1 T. cold water

poppy seeds

What to do:

1. Bring milk, 6 T. butter, and sugar to a boil. Remove from heat, pour into a large mixing bowl, and let cool till lukewarm (105-115F.)

2. Stir in yeast and let stand 10 min.

3. Beat 3 eggs in a small bowl, then stir them into the milk mixture

4. Stir in 5 c. flour, 1 c. at a time (add salt to flour). Flour a work surface and turn the dough onto it. Wash and dry the bowl

5. Sprinkle additional flour over the dough and begin kneading, adding more flour till dough is smooth and elastic.

6. Smear reserved butter around the inside of the bowl and add ball of dough, turning to coat it with butter. Cover with a towel and set aside to let dough rise until tripled in size (approx. 1 1/2 - 2 hours, though it may take longer in the cooler climes such as Bermagui, NSW)

7. Turn dough onto lightly floured surface and cut into halves. Cut each half into 3 pieces. Roll the pieces out into long snakes about 18" long. Braid 3 snakes and tuck ends under. Repeat for the other 3 snakes

8. Sprinkle a large baking sheet with cornmeal, and transfer the loaves to the sheet. Leave enough room between the loaves for them to rise. Cover with a towel and let rise till nearly double (approx 1 hr.)

9. Preheat oven to 350F.

10. Beat remaining egg and 1 T cold water in a small bowl. Brush evenly over loaves and sprinkle on poppy seeds

11. Set baking sheet in middle rack of oven. Bake for 30-35 min. or until loaves are golden brown and sound hollow when tapped

12. Cool completely on rack

Makes 2 large loafs, but don't expect them to last long!

Life on Land and Sea

The constant cackle of cockies (cockatoos), crows, and kookaburras may rival that of wayward roosters in the Micronesian islands, who never seemed to know what time of day it was, and so crowed constantly. I guess, like sailors, they know that the sun must be over the yard(arm) somewhere in the world. Just as well they woke me early--I left my bungalow and found that a wallaby and her joey were foraging right in front of my room. Nice way to spend the day. Here's what my bungalow looks like:

Now, to continue from the last post: I did get to do some snorkeling the following day, but must say that I've had better. I think the problem is that I'm rather spoiled, having dived at Jacques Cousteau's favorite reef in Palau. Anyway, the islands are lovely and the water warm.

I did get another offer for a ride, this time to Perth, on board a 46' catamaran. I could get off it anywhere along the way, say Canberra, for instance. Two things scuttled that adventure: a) the owner didn't know how to sail, being a new convert from power boats, and b) there are no flights available from anywhere in Australia back to D.C. any time soon. Oh yes, a Swedish woman was teaching the skipper how to sail along the way. Never did receive any calls from the New Caledonian, Richard, who Bottle Shop-Debbie thought would love to take me out for a sail.

So, the only thing left to do was to try my hand at windsurfing. I gave it my best for a good hour and a half, half of which I spent in the water rather than on top of it. After a short break I sailed a small Hobie Cat for an hour to make me feel better. Here's why I need to be at sea:

Time to go.

...And a Bottle of Rum, continued

Where was I? Oh yes: just as I was getting ready to board a bus back to Schute Harbour to catch the ferry back to Hamilton Island, I received a call from a yachtie, Craig, who saw my notice in the Whitsunday Sailing Club. He lured me from the bus stop back to the club by suggesting that perhaps I would like to join him for the Dent to Dunk rally--a sailing voyage from Dent Is., near Hamilton Is., to Dunk Is., near Cairns. And so we met and chatted (long enough that I almost missed the last ferry back to Hamilton Is.) and decided that I would go along if a) Craig's other crew approved, and b) I could change my flight back to Washington.

Because you are reading this, you have probably guessed by now that that ride fell through. The following day I found out that Craig's boat suffered a grand mal cutlass bearing failure and that the trip was cancelled. But that's not all that was cancelled that day. First it was the sea kayak adventure I'd signed up for in the morning, due to wind and waves. Given the wind part of that cancellation notice, I signed on to the Banjo Paterson, a yacht built originally for the Sydney to Hobart race long ago. I scrambled to get to the pier on time; everyone was waiting for me. And off we went. We even got the sails up. But then came the notice that there was a crack in the heat exchanger and we were taking on water a bit faster than the pumps could handle. So we turned back. The crew was apologetic and offered us free drinks. I had a glass of champagne while sitting on the bow pulpit. I understand that they drank champagne on the Titanic too. Back on shore; back to the tour desk. I booked onto an afternoon snorkel safari in the Coral Gardens in the Great Barrier Reef. So off I went--back to the harbour and into the dive shop, only to find that there were not enough people for the trip. They needed a minimum of 6 people and had but 3. You'd think I'd know when to quit. But no; I signed up for the next day's excursion.

And now you'll have to wait for the next installment because the masses are staring me down as they circle for computer time.

The weather has been spectacular. Just lacking wind.

"Yo ho ho and a Bottle of Rum," or, "Yo, a ho, and a Bottle Shop"

Sorry to say that I still can't post any photos. I did manage to transfer my photos to CD in Airlie Beach today, but the computer I am using doesn't have a CD bay. But hey, it's free. Stay tuned...

I spent last weekend with Mark, Danie, Joseph, and Rosie Georgelin in Canberra, Australia's capital. The American embassay consumes 3/4 of the city, and may be larger than the White House itself. How embarrassing! So what do you do when you meet up with friends you haven't seen? Well, you watch the kids play netball (sort of like basketball, and sounds like "nipple" when Australians say it), and Aussie Rules football (sort of like a combination of American football and soccer), and of course you bake challah, just like before in Pohnpei.

We had a fine walk in the Tidbinbilla nature reserve, where we hunted the great Australian koala bear. Rosie spotted one first; I wouldn't have noticed one if it had dangled a eucalyptus leaf in my face. They are tough to see, of course, because, well...they hide high up in trees and blend in with the bark. Later we saw gaggles of kangaroos and wallabies, and even a couple of emus. That about rounds out the fauna, except for the echidna and platypus. Have to have something to look forward to the next time I return.

So, here I am in Hamilton Island in the Whitsundays on the Great Barrier Reef. What's up with the "Yo ho ho"? Turns out that yachties don't sail into the harbour here because it's just too damn expensive. So I spent the day on the mainland in Airlie beach, where I donned my "boat ho" hat and made the rounds of yacht clubs (one, actually) and marinas (also just one), leaving notices and pleas in my wake. Still I felt that chances of getting a ride were slim. So I posted a package (what else could I do). And lo and behold, across the way from the Post Office was a bottle shop (Australian for liquor store). Naturally I walked in and went for the rum. The cashier asked me how long I'd been here. I said it was my first day in Airlie beach, but that I was staying on the island, and was just here looking for a sailing fix. And Debby from the bottle shop came through for me. Turns out she has a friend with a great yacht who just likes to take people out sailing and would more than likely pick me up from the island. There's more to the story...including a call from someone who saw my notice in the Whitsunday Sailing Club, but I'll save that one for next time. I'm on a shared computer and need to relinquish it to someone else for a while.

I'm going sea kayaking tomorrow and will return to the post sometime thereafter, but don't hold your breath--I can't always count on getting online when I'd like to.
So, "yo" from the boat ho.

Life in Bermagui

I'm getting lazy.
Australia has some of the planet's most deadly
wildlife: Black snakes, great white sharks, stone fish, jelly fish,
etc., and a nasty spider called a Funnel Web. Here in Bermagui the Funnel Webs don't bite. They're just too damn lazy.
There are, of course, more benign types: kangaroos, wallabies, Rozellas,
etc.
Alan Ray was kind enough to wrangle up a few kangaroos for me. We
walked down into the paddock where Alan shouted, "All right you
kangaroos. Time to get up." Right on cue 2 Big Grays hoped out of the
bush, did their tourist posing act, then hopped right back to the bush.
They've been telling me that dolphins play in the surf
below the hill, but so far there have been no sightings. Alan assures
me that I should look for them in the sea, and not in the paddock.
Now making plans to visit with Danie and Mark Georgelin, who took me in when I jumped ship in Micronesia. They live some 5 bus-hours from Bermagui
in the Australian capital, Canberra. From there I hope to fly to
Hamilton Island in the Whitsundays for a week or so of even more
R&R. Looks like my sailing adventures will be reduced to hourly
expeditions on small catamarans. At least I won't have to stand the dog
watch.
I can't post pictures of Bermagui because I forgot to pack a cable or card reader for my camera. Details, details.
More details as they coalesce...

"We've Been Squashing Quite a Few 'Sepos' Here Lately"

Translated, this means that Americans are getting run over in the streets. Remember, it's all upside down and backwards here, which means that Americans must remember to look RIGHT instead of left when crossing the street.
Further translation: The word "Sepo" is the shortened, endearing form of "Septic," which is what the Aussies call the Yanks. "Septic" is derived from the rhyming slang for Yank, "Yank wank septic tank." Charming, I know. Anyway, in an effort to cut down on the numbers of squashed sepos, Sydneysiders have painted little reminders in the street for us. See the photo.

I'm off to the northern beaches now to see if the house I used to live in on Bungan head is still there. Then from there I'll head north to Palm beach and the Hawkesbury river. Tomorrow I'm busing myself down to Bermagui on the south coast of New South Wales to visit my long lost friends.

Meanwhile, my former colleague and now well-renowned Film Director, Bruce Hunt, is trying to get me a spot on board a race boat that his brother is delivering from somewhere in Queensland back to Sydney. Too soon to be hopeful about this, but perhaps this is the big door that is supposed to open when another one has closed.

Stay tuned... Oh yeah, the weather is beautiful, and I wish you were here!

There Are More Ways Than One to Traverse the Ocean

Although the flight from DC to Sydney was a bit circuitous, I must admit that it was drier and much much faster than a sail would have been. There are other differences as well between Business class travel as a passenger and mate-class travel as crew:
1. When sleeping in the bow, one can anticipate being airborne on occasion at sea, but one can only hope that one remains airborne in flight.
2. When flying Business class, one can anticipate being served hot nuts. When sailing one can anticipate someone on board driving you nuts.
3. When flying Business class, one never has to worry about being awakened by the captain to stand watch. When sailing, someone always wakes you to take the helm.

Much more to come. Feel free to write your own comparisons. But no matter the downsides, I'm playing the Boat Ho card here and am hot on the trail of a delivery of a race boat from Queensland to Sydney.

For now, I'm in Sydney and loving it, sail or no sail.

Interest Rates Climb as the Federal Reserve Board Grants Leave

It's true. Americans and Aussies alike have taken quite an interest in my plans for a voyage OVER the ocean to Oz. I have managed to track down quite a number of friends down under, thanks to Google, and now must prepare to give a full accounting of my life since I left Aussie in 1989-90 (the first time I left, that is).

Kudos to the Board of Governors of the Federal Reserve, who has granted me leave for the month. Taking a month off as a contractor and having a job to come back to is no small feat. At least, not for an American. The rest of the civilized world (and I include Australia here) has the good sense to provide adequate vacation time to the proletariat.
Here's the itinerary so far (Be fore-warned, it is a bit circuitous. But it's still faster than sailing!):
Depart Washington DC Sun, 22 April at 11:00.
Arrive St. Louis 12:05
Depart St. Louis 12:45
Arrive LA 14:50
Depart LA 21:05
Arrive Melbourne (via Auckland) Tue, 24 April at 08:20
Depart Melbourne 10:00
Arrive Sydney 11:20
Collapse in a heap at 12:00 (Thanks to Marcie and Coca Cola, I'll be able to collapse in a heap in grand style at the Quay Grand Suites at Circular Quay in Sydney.)
The return trip to the US is a bit more straight forward. Currently I am due to depart Sydney for LA on Fri, 25 May at 09:45, then on to DC, due to arrive at Dulles at 16:25.

Just writing the itinerary is exhausting! Can't wait to see what happens throughout the rest of the trip. So far, my plans are still in flux. I plan to stay in Sydney for about a week and then take the bus down to Bermagui by way of Heathcote. That will put me in range of Canberra should I connect with CMDR and Mrs. Georgelin, who provided me, quite literally, shelter from the storm (a cyclone, actually) after I jumped ship in Micronesia.

I will attempt to post to the blog while in Australia in an effort to keep everyone up to date on my whereabouts, and to track interest rates as the voyage progresses.

Post script: I received a call from Steve last night. Seems he found the charger for the handheld GPS I loaned him. I think he's offering it up in return for the mast cover I took off Victory to clean. Actually, I left the clean mast cover with Tad some time ago. So now all bets are off on whether I'll get the charger before I leave for Australia. Tad said something to the effect that Steve got the union involved in his case to get the year off, and ended up, possibly, with a month or two later this year or next. Tad seems to think there's an ocean voyage to Europe in the making. I'm not holding my breath. And I am not renting my house any time soon!

Muffling the Deafening Disappointment

I have decided to try to quiet the deafening disappointment by spending some time in Australia. I'll be flying to Sydney on miles my sister Marcie surrendered so generously. After spending some time with her there, I'll visit friends in Sydney, Heathcoate, Burmagui, and almost anywhere I can find them.
After that it's a bit of a mystery. I have my heart set on some sailing in the Whitsunday's, but don't want to get my hopes up too high! There is a slight chance that my old friends in Bermagui can convince the young man who bought their Bluebird that he should loan it to me for a while. He keeps it up in the Whitsundays somewhere, so you never know...
Meanwhile, there's been no Steve sightings, and I haven't spoken to him since I finally told him that I would not sail with him even if he does quit his job. It is coming up on the spring sailing season in Annapolis. I'm hoping to get on the Bay before I hit Sydney Harbour. I wonder if they tie their bowlines upside down there?

Whether Lesson: Tropical Depressions

It is no longer a question of "whether" I am going to sea with Steve or not. I told him today that I would not go with him, though he still seems to think that he can get that year off from work.

I have passed through the denial and anger phases and am now being kicked around by a tropical depression. Tropical depressions are precursors of hurricanes or cyclones (depending on your position north or south of the equator).

So, today's whether or not lesson is this: If you find yourself in a depression (tropical or otherwise) go to sea where it's safe (i.e. no land or reefs to run into) .

Rescuers Lament

Voyeurs and voyagers alike have been calling and writing to console me and offer such things as dinners out, weekends on the Bay, and promises of circumnavigations down stream. I'm thinking a circumcision may be in order, but I understand that that is rather illegal. Have to think about my Capt. License after all.
Capt. Dennis Daniels called to lift my spirits, or just to check that the one I had hadn't died altogether. I was all set to go to Buffalo to take his celestial navigation course, but Capt. D . suggested I wait till I actually had plans to go somewhere, in deference to the "use it or lose it" rule.
Meanwhile, I have a huge metaphor growing in the middle of my back. It's an itch that I just can't scratch. I need saving. Or, perhaps salving. I am not sure which.

Anyone have any frequent flyer points?

That Sinking Feeling

It is pretty clear now that the ocean voyage is a no-go. This is a huge disappointment for everyone involved.
What's next? Personally I am looking into other options. I've come up with three so far:
1. Cruise the Caribbean for a month or so (bareboat charter)
2. Sign on to a voyage already, or soon-to-be in progress
3. Visit friends south of Sydney and then cruise the Great Barrier Reef (bareboat charter)
Then there's always the alternative: stay put and get a job.
Is anyone having any difficulty deciding between any one of the listed options and the alternative?
Thought not.
Stay tuned...

Ocean Voyage Suffers a Knock-Down While Boat is Still at the Dock

On Thursday, March 1, 2007 Steve's boss denied him the year off that he had anticipated for the circumnavigation. That's about as big a knock-down as they come, and as a result my own timbers are shivering.
Steve now must make the choice between abandoning the voyage or abandoning his job. While normally a no-brainer for those of us without dependents, Steve's situation calls for a bit more thought. If he does quit the job, he thinks he can be at sea for 18 months. So now I am re-routing for an 18-month jaunt beginning in May, or one beginning in October/November. Two years would be ideal.
Meanwhile we've had help from John Yanich, uber-racer, with radar and telecommunications, and from Ed Tanzer, uber-cruiser, with the SSB. Looks like Tad's Icom 710 works just fine, though John recommends using a sat phone hookup instead (or as well). Ed will come back another time to program some Caribbean channels. The Pactor modem is en route from the eBay seller, so we'll be able to hook that up as well. Trouble is, we still don't have Tad's laptop. This is like trying to get a wx fax or email by hooking up your car radio to your old dial-up modem. It may look cool, but without the computer and software, you're not going to get much more than what comes out of your AM frequencies. Imagine a whole 18 months listening to radio evangelists.

Onboard Communication Options

Last night Steve and I met onboard the BOAT (currently SV Victory) to sort out some of the electronic communications logistics. We want to have at least two systems: 1) An SSB (single sideband, high-frequency) radio with a Pactor modem for sending and receiving email messages and downloading weather faxes; and 2) An Irridium satellite phone for very expensive phone calls to and from friends and family.
Unfortunately the Icom 700 SSB currently on board is not compatible with the Pactor modems (it's just too old). However, Tad's 710 model will work if, of course, the SSB works. We wanted to test it last night but need a different set of connectors and a different tuner. However, we had a long chat with someone who used to sell the modems for Icom, and he provided a great deal of valuable info. He's got a couple of used modems on eBay--Steve's got his eyes on 'em. The last unknown in the SSB realm is the number and types of ports on Tad's laptop, which is currently AWOL at his sister's place in New Jersey. A road trip is in the works for Tad this Sunday. Then we can at least choose between the USB and Serial cabling for the modem for whatever modem and SSB combo we come up with. (Are you still reading this? I thought I'd lost you by now!).
I'll post again on this subject when we've resolved the issues. Then we'll be able to keep in touch along the way. Just remember that a Pactor modem on an SSB runs about the same speed as those dial-up modems of yester-century. So keep your notes brief! More details about that later...

Planning Meeting Held in Annapolis on Superbowl Sunday

While the clientele at Sean Donlon’s Irish Pub on West Street were glued to the Tube, Tad, Steve, and I had a world map spread out on a big table in the back room which we had all to ourselves.
We discussed routes over a few beers and a few baskets of bread. Despite the fact that it will be like our own mini-Whitbred (Volvo Ocean Race), we decided to go all out for the global circumnavigation in a 1-year window.