“The Old Man and the Sea” by Ernest Hemingway or “Pop Challenges His Boating Curse” by me, Pop, 70-year-old father of the first mate and grandfather of five (3 on this cruise).
For those of you wanting to visit all of the US National Parks, you already know that the Dry Tortugas National Park, about 70 miles west of Key West, is the hard one to add to your collection. So, when the opportunity arose to go with family on the Cartermaran we knew we could not pass it up. Grace, my first mate and I had a wonderful time, and I learned a lot of things that most seasoned boaters already know.
MY BOATING EXPERIENCE
I know about a lot of things, but boating is at the bottom of my knowledge list, due to the following experiences. At age 9, I was in a 42-foot Chris Craft cabin cruiser that got caught in an unexpected tropical storm which mysteriously formed that day on the ocean. The boat rocked so hard that the people down below were bouncing from one side of the boat to the other side and into each other while getting sick. I didn’t get sick but suffered bruises from the flying elbows and knees. At age 13 my friend and I bought an eight-foot rowboat and fixed an old motor for it. When the boat tipped back and sank, it was then that I learned about weight ratios in a buoyancy situation. At age 15, my dad and I went fishing with my uncle on the next-door neighbor’s 26-foot boat off Port Everglades, Florida. As it started to get dark, we were headed back to port when a storm caught up with us, just as the motor died. The waves got larger and started coming in the back of the boat, and it soon became a new Olympic event, “Swim for the lights onshore.” It was a long swim (about a mile) and the boat sank and washed ashore the next day. Mike’s boating curse became a “thing.”
 |
| Ten seconds from leaving shore, we were swimming. |
KNOWING HOW TALL YOU ARE
How tall are you? Now add a flag and an antenna. Now, what is your height? All boats know their safe height to fit under a bridge, but it can be tricky. Your flag is one height, and your antenna is another height, and if you have a full tank of fuel or almost empty… all these things figure into whether you can make it under the bridge safely without waiting for the bridge tender to stop all traffic and raise the bridge. BUT you have options here… the antenna can be turned down, and the flag can be removed, so now you have two other height options to consider for the upcoming bridge. The math all starts with the water marker sign near the bridge showing minimum vertical clearance. The water line will give you the clearance number from the water to the lowest part of the bridge. BUT you can add two more feet to that number if riding directly in the middle of the bridge arc, BUT if two boats are passing under the bridge at the same time, then you are back to the minimum number measured at the low end of the bridge arc. This magic number is not known until you reach the bridge and see the water clearance sign. At that time, you may realize you need to call the bridge tender to raise the bridge, BUT most of them only stop the car traffic and raise the bridge on their schedule… every 15, 20, or 30 minutes. Bridges with minimal car traffic may raise at any time upon request; “Hollywood Beach Blvd bridge tender, this is the Cartermaran heading northbound requesting to raise the bridge.”
TIPS
The boat always rocks and the waves keep the boat in a persistent movement, so, if there is a handrail anywhere, make it your friend, say hello to each and every one as you walk by it with a good strong handshake. Your balance is constantly challenged.
The horizon is your friend. Your inner ear sends a signal to your brain to help you balance, and at the same time, your eyesight sends a simultaneous signal to your brain, and the two work together to keep you balanced. BUT, cut off your eyesight (being down below deck) and your eye signal is conflicting with your inner ear signal… thus you get seasick… or in other words conflicting brain signals equals dizziness. However, if you can see the horizon, then your signals are aligned for a balanced brain signal.
Find the menial things the captain does and take them over (ask first or you will learn new salty curse words). He doesn’t need to roll down the plastic sides when it is about to rain. He has lots of other things to do when it is about to rain, so volunteer.
Don’t question the captain’s orders. Whatever he says to do, you do it without question. While you are pondering your possible questions, the captain is already thinking 8 steps ahead of you about other things.
Don’t leave anything on the floor, tables, or counters because in rough seas or a storm those things act like balls in a pinball machine bouncing from wall to wall.
Boating with children: You need to understand the different meanings such as “Grandpa, will you go fishing with me?” That really means “Grandpa, will you help me untangle my fishing line all day?”
THINGS YOU HAVE NO CONTROL OF
The weather, the rain, the wind, other boats, docking spaces, and how long before the next low bridge gets raised.
THE FIRST MATE
My daughter Lisa, the first officer, first mate, (or ensign) follows the commands of the captain. They must work as a team and often anticipate the next moves especially in times of unexpected situations. One night we anchored off Water Key, along the Florida Keys. The weather called for scattered showers. At 1:03 am, an alarm went off signaling we were no longer anchored at the same spot that we dropped at last night. Resetting the anchor with 3 hours of sleep in windy rainy conditions while the boat is rocking up and down is easier only if your previous job was a circus performer who stood on a wooden plank on top of a ball while juggling chainsaws. Ben started the engines, and the first mate was already on deck preparing for this sometimes occasion. Apparently, the anchor can come loose off the ocean floor with high shifting winds. But this was no ordinary night. The weather started getting rough, the catamaran was tossed, if not for the courage of the fearless crew the Minnow would be lost… OH wait, that was Gilligan’s Island. So, I went up top to help if I could. The rain and wind intensified. It was the darkest night that I had ever experienced in my life. I reached for the Military Grade Super Light that can light up the dark side of the moon from the earth but with the rain, it could only penetrate about 50 yards into the gloom of night.
Me: Where’s the island we anchored in front of last night? Which way are we drifting, how fast are we drifting? Where’s the sand bar?
Ben to the First Mate: Step on the switch to pull the anchor in.
First Mate: It’s coming in slow; it’s struggling.
Ben: keep at it.
First Mate: It stopped by itself. It won’t go any further.
Me: Maybe it anchored in.
Ben: No, we are still drifting. Pull out the backup anchor (tied to 300 ft of rope).
The first mate and Ben pull the rope anchor out of the front compartment on deck. Untangle it and toss it overboard. They tie it up, but the chained anchor is still an issue. Ben needs to go back to the captain’s chair to put the boat in reverse to help set the rope anchor, but that can’t be done until they work out the chained anchor problem that is not anchored and refuses to come in. While the boat is bouncing up and down and swaying back and forth with the torrential rain and high winds, I am holding onto the railing at the front of the boat aiming the light down to the chained anchor slowly making an appearance. It is covered with sea grass and seaweed the size of a small washing machine. The anchor is now about 150 pounds heavier and that explains the struggle. The first mate, bending over the railing, stabs at the ball of seaweed with a stick hook to clean it off, while the bouncing boat sets a horrific rhythm. Ben decides both anchors need to be set in the storm and then there is a series of colorful language exchanges between the captain and first mate as directions and information is exchanged and as I listen, I discover new curse words that I have never heard before. Finally, at 2:11 am, we are double anchored and back to bed. Mike’s boating curse gave a nod.
 |
| The anchor struggles. We thought the anchor mechanism was malfunctioning, but the 150 lb seaweed ball was the problem. |
Later in the week as we made it to my final port, we anchored off the coast of North Palm Beach, in another storm. Brother-in-law Paul and first mate Denise, in their 24 ft Robalo, taxies alongside the catamaran to bring us to shore. Standing at the side of the boat I first see Paul 3 feet higher, then 3 feet lower as the pouring rain and high winds cause the two bouncing boats to appear as a see-saw, making it a challenge to tie up to us. Boarding Paul’s rescue boat from the Cartermaran cannot be even attempted at this point. We decide it’s best if they come aboard until the storm subsides a little. After 30 minutes, with garbage bags around our luggage and backpacks to keep them dry, Captain Paul brings us to shore with the first of two runs. Mike’s boating curse says hello one more time.
 |
| There's a storm coming. |
NOTE: Earlier in the trip there was the 7-hour journey from the Dry Tortugas with 3 hours of constant seas 5-8 feet that I won’t talk about, so don’t ask. Overall, it was a great trip with family that I will never forget. Let’s just say I will never go on a roller coaster again.
I am proud of my daughter in many ways, but her patience stood out the most. Patience with the kids, patience under tricky stormy situations, and patience with the captain. Her boating knowledge impressed me very much. She took boating courses to prepare for the trip and it gave her an air of confidence. The kids are still learning their jobs on the boat (when to stay out of the way during docking and anchoring, and not to repeat new colorful words they may hear at those times).
CAPTAIN BEN
My son-in-law is a project genius. He built a two-story cabin from scratch on a trailer on the side of his house, then towed it to his property 3 hours up in the mountains. Then he bought a bulldozer that didn’t work and rebuilt it. He also finds rare old cars and trucks and fixes them up and sells them (some he keeps as future projects, much to the chagrin of the first mate). When he told us he was buying a boat to travel the seas, we were surprised (we all live in Colorado) but later learned that when he was a teenager, he sailed with his grandfather around the Florida Keys.
If a car breaks down, it’s generally the same things, dead battery, flat tire, broken starter, fan belts and you get it fixed. But on the open seas if your boat breaks down you are at the mercy of the prevailing winds, drifting helplessly until you fix the problem yourself. Fortunately, Ben went to Diesel Mechanic school and that helped me gain more confidence if mechanical situations occurred. The boat (44-foot catamaran with two 240 horsepower diesel engines) is a meticulous thing that requires constant checking and detailed attention. It has many monitoring instruments of dials and gages to help you keep the boat healthy, like a doctor with his patients. There is no waiting until the boat is sick, instead, preventive medicine (maintenance) is required to stay ahead of the problems that may arise. Every day he had his routine of checking the numerous items to assure a healthy boat. He fixed several unexpected things along the way and ordered needed parts to be shipped to our next port. He is the mechanic, engineer, problem solver, and planner. If Captain Ben was an astronaut on Apollo 13, then history would have recorded “Houston, we HAD a problem, but Ben fixed it… never mind.”
Passenger Pop, signing off…
No comments:
Post a Comment