Part of The Underway Gourmet by Suzy O'Keefe
Okay! So I screwed up! I violated the "Second Rule of Deliveries". I accepted a delivery assignment without personally inspecting the boat. The "First Rule"... "Never do a delivery with the owner on board" I learned the hard way a few years ago. In this case, I wanted so much to do the sail from Hawaii to San Francisco that I jumped at the first offer that came along after the (almost) dream delivery of a Pretorian 35 fell thru. This was NOT a Pretorian... it was an Erickson and only a 30 footer at that. But hey, it had just completed the Singlehanded TransPac. I mean it DID have to pass their inspection process, right? I agreed to the terms of the delivery before I even stepped on board and I made no provision for declining the delivery once I examined the vessel. Stupid!
I'd met the owner socially at several of the SSS Seminars and I'd been aboard several of the other boats also completing this year's TransPac. I already knew that the vessel was provisioned only with "vegetarian faire". I already knew there was no refrigeration. I already knew that 2 small equipment failures had occurred during the trip over - the center traveler car blew up and the forward nav lights had burned out. This I knew because I'd been asked to "bring stuff" when I flew over. I also brought a lifesling for the return ride since there'd be two of us on board.
Two of us. That issue was still unresolved when I landed in Hawaii. The crew I'd lined up had cancelled at the last minute so my first chores included lots of phone calls and beating the bushes trying to find a suitable crewperson.
After I arrived, I also found out that the owner had just finished the repair of the forward water tank after it leaked empty during the outbound trip. That leak had filled the shallow bilge and gotten into the settee storage lockers causing rust and other damage to tools and spares. I tore into those lockers first and moved some thing around. This exercise caused me to ask several questions like "Oil filters, but no spare oil???!?!!"
For some strange reason, the boards and cushions for the v-berth had been left behind so there'd be no sleeping up forward. (Not a safety issue and not a deal breaker but, I did prefer to sleep there.) A port settee board had also been left behind to accomotate a tall plastic container and the salon table wasn't there either. That area of the floor contained the borrowed life raft, flares, and other odds & ends. So... no table for eating or anything else, no really comfortable sleeping place, and rusty tools. The salon had only one grab rail on the starboard side so only one lee cloth could be set. And the worst thing... there was no galley salt water pump. To wash dishes one had to dip a bucket, a red "Fruit Salad Luau" bucket. I must admit I thought THAT was pretty dumb, but again, I thought I'd manage.
The owner proudly displayed (what he called) his $4,000 hatch board. A beautiful piece of woodwork joined together with smoked lexan and epoxy filler of a different color for a nice effect. Highly varnished... he probably spent about 100 hours on that piece but hadn't taken the time to install a damn salt water pump!
Another piece of woodwork he had made himself was a radio "shelf / handle". It afforded absolutely no protection from bounce or splash, but instead allowed the radio, SWR meter, and laptop to sit (held down by velcro) completely exposed facing the companionway hatch. It didn't quite fit where it was mounted due to an error in measurement, but it was oh so pretty.
I'd been told that the radar drew so little power that it had been run continuously all the way across. He had also run the strobe light. Now, I don't subscribe to either of these methods, so I expected to have ample power without running the engine by not doing either. I was briefed on the cooking stove, CNG, Compressed Natural Gas. I asked how it differed from propane since I wasn't familiar with it. It's lighter than air and rises so it isn't odorised. The owner had baked bread all the way over and said he had used just 500 lbs. A trip to the supermarket added a few canned and fresh items to the provisions along with an 18 pack of beer. I figured I could have one a day...
We drove over to Hanale Bay where the fleet was anchored and some of the *support crew* had condos on the beach. We dropped in on one of these shore bases, Bruce & Lina of"Razzberries" and it became an impromptu party when Steve on "Solitaire" and Craig showed up as well.
This Erickson 30+ did have radar, GPS, Ham radio, vane steering, and an auto pilot. The rigging was new and beefy. The sails were new and the lifelines & stanchions had been replaced. The owner had baked bread all the way over and had arrived with a smile on his face. I asked for a couple of 5 gallon water jugs as backup in case that water tank failed again and got to add several canned items to the dry supplies. Now all I had to do was FIND THAT CREWMEMBER! My partner and the love of my life, Ken, made me promise not to sail back alone... God, am I glad I kept that promise! Ken had pulled a dollar bill out of his pocket when we got to the airport. He tore it in half and gave me a piece saying "You have to come back... you own me a dollar". That made me cry.
As it turned out, I found a fine crew member right there on the dock in Nawiliwili. Jack, he lived on his 27 footer and worked at the local boatyard. He was experienced and he was willing! The owner flew home. I wanted to get underway the next day but the weather was rather shitty so my crew took me to the local brew pub instead and we burned the dock lines the following day.
Understanding that this IS a delivery and things break, though disappointing, it was no surprise that equipment failures started almost immediately. The forward water tank filled the inside of the boat again and soaked the port locker and settee cushions. The vane steering nuts all had to be tightened to keep the unit from falling off the stern. The main halyard winch blew up, and the head quit... this was all before the 2nd day was completed! And, the head - THE HEAD - failed catastrophically refusing to pump overboard. Okay, perhaps we could use the holding tank. We changed the valves and tried a few pumps. !KERRRBANG! The tank was already so full that it popped the wooden braces holding it in place and the toilet overflowed . We had to do something fast to relieve the pressure (nope, no manual or electric pump) so Jack volunteered to go on deck and remove the deck cap. Of course, the vent was plugged since we were heeled over to port and it was installed on the hull instead of the cabintop. The port was open so we could talk (and I could breathe) and it was then that I advised Jack that the waste cap probably wasn't chained since neither of the water tanks had been... "so try not to lose it". Luckily, I didn't hear his reply!
Jack turned the cap ever so slowly until the "contents" of the holding tank erupted through the deck plate covering him and the boat. There was a blast pattern on the head wall (missed me, missed me). But, he held on to the cap!!! I knew I'd found a good crew person there & then! I started dipping buckets of sea water and dumping them on him. He continued the operation while also rinsing off the boat. I worked on the down below. The net time someone tells me I don't know shit, I'll say "On the contrary; I happen to know Jack personally!"
We'd almost forgotten about the failure of the main halyard winch that happened about the same time as the head disaster. No cleats above the mast winches made the jury rig a bit more problematic, but with the aid of a couple of rolling hitches and a spare block, I was able to re-lead the main halyard over to the jib halyard winch and relead that back to the cockpit. I contemplated rebuilding the winch, but realized I had no adequate or dry place on which to work.
The ridiculed red bucket suddenly became far more important as it was quickly promoted to Cockpit Comfort Station. Oh well, it was far more comfortable than that tiny head had ever been - just not very dry. This alternative use of the bucket created another problem though. We just couldn't allow it to double as a dish washing bucket so we found that we could dip the pressure cooker (very carefully) for washing. There was a huge (maybe 4 gallon) janitorial bucket that we could not dip because it tried to rip your arm off when it filled! Somehow I just don't think this had been a problem to the owner during his flat downwind passage, but now, heeled substantially beating to weather it was not going to work. We didn't have very many dishes to wash anyway. One plate, one bowl, one small pan, 2 cups. And, 4 plastic knives forks & spoons - each bearing the initials of the owner, wife, and 2 kids. Amazing! Why would anyone provision a boat this way?
I'd like to get my hands on whoever designed this boat (grrrrrrr). Shallow bilges, tiny head, no place to stand in the galley when heeled to starboard, leaky unvented plastic water tanks, AND it doesn't sail to weather. We spent 2 weeks sailing and motoring more than we wanted at the lightening pace of 3.9 to 5 knots trying to beat north and get around the Pacific High. As best we could figure, the design of the bow didn't split the water and push it aside. Instead, it pushed the water ahead of us just slowing us down. I'd also like to do the same to the entire list of people who have ever owned this boat!
The boat had no fishing gear (I brought a lure and hand line gear just in case) and Jack brought along a fillet knife and a few lures of his own. His favorite lure he named "Fish-Go-Tech" and it 's action was something to see... the problem was that the boat hook was just no substitute for a gaff and although we were able to catch fish, we were not able to boat fish. Very, very frustrating!
Jack was taken in (just as I was) by the *halo* of satisfying the SSS requirements.
I felt just a little off that first day so I didn't have my scheduled afternoon beer but, I had checked into the Pacific Seafarer's Net the first evening and gotten us on the "Roll Call" . Something called an inventory of safety gear - number of gallons of water on board, identifying marks on the boat & sails - is reqiured and they keep track of boats progress all across the Pacific. I'd be able to get weather info from boats up ahead of us, make phone patches, and generally socialize a bit each evening before getting some zzzzzzzzz's.
What with all the problems the 2nd day, we were both thinking "Turn back? No, we're not in danger - just damn uncomfortable and with a common enemy - the owner! " With the day's firedrill over, I really wanted that beer, but I just couldn't have a beer without offering Jack one too. I realized that I had a *spare* beer since I hadn't had yesterday's yet... but what if - what if we each had one beer every other day? That would still make them last 18 days AND I'd found an old bottle of wine in the bottom of the nav station. We could make that last a couple of days. I grabbed 2 beers and handed Jack one. He actually said "No thanks, I can't drink your beer". I insisted and told him my plan and about the wine. This little ritual really gave us something good to look forward to in a boat full of problems to dread.
We doubled up the cushions on the port settee so we could have a dry place to sleep and we pumped out the lockers with a hand pump. I guess the owner must have been confident in his repair of the water tank because he had instructed me to put his tool boxes and spares back into the same lockers that had flooded the first time the tank failed. Everything was wet again. I spent several hours wiping the rust off and coating each item with lubricant. Things were so rusty, I can only think that, before, the water was just dumped out. Needless to say, the multi-meter was toast but I'd try to cook it in the sun for a while.
We had a little trouble starting the engine due to a faulty connection at the starter switch, but we had found through trial & error that two people could start the engine if we engaged the kill switch first. Sound strange? I agree, but nevertheless, that's what was required. Pull on the alarm switch (several times until the alarm actually sounded), pull out the kill switch, push the glow plug switch several times holding it in for 5 second intervals, push the start switch 6 to 10 times until the starter engages, push in the kill switch and the engine starts! This was a two person operation initially because of the cramped space behind the wheel at the starter panel - that and the fact that three hands were needed. Later we found that one person could perform contortions so that two hands and one foot could be used. Apparently, the kill switch was connected to the compression release and engaging it took enough stress off the starter to get it turning. All I know for sure is that's what worked.
The next couple of days were fairly uneventful and we were still progressing at an alarmingly slow rate of speed. Day 5 dawned with severe line chafe visible at the bottom of the self steering unit after a night of strong winds & big seas. Gee, the line looks pretty bulletproof, but it isn't. While Jack steered, I shinnied under the aft rail and hung over the stern to re-tie the stopper knot. We kept an eye on that from then on. We moved some things on the aft rail to allow clearer air to the vane and agreed that the solar panel really needed to be flat when sailing upwind. It (unfortunately) didn't do much anyway. It would only keep up with the GPS if that was all we were running.
Jack preferred to try to use the only other bucket (that huge janitorial type bucket) as a scoop so he could pour it over his head for a bath. On one such occasion I was awakened by all kinds of comotion and what sounded like a huge toilet flushing above my head. He had chosen that spot on the deck for his bath. When I mentioned later how noisy it was he realized what he'd done and also confided that he had almost lost the bucket during one of the dips, He had only managed to catch the very end of the rope tied to it. Naked and dragging on the non-skid deck, his upper body was mostly under the lifeline and his legs were locked around the jack line. I'm still not sure how he recovered but he wasn't about to have to use the shit bucket for double duty!
Some water was coming into the cabin from above and a walk around the deck with a roll of duct tape revealed at least a dozen holes left from removed equipment and God knows what.
The radar never worked once for us. It was mounted on a single tall pole on the aft deck so wasn't very high off the water and swung around wildly in certain conditions. I pretty much gave up on getting any image from it at all, although I generally turned it on to try to get distance on large traffic. I'm glad we were never fog-bound and had to rely on it. It just didn't work! We found that the entire unit atop the pole was free to turn about 40 degrees and later, in the quiet at dockside, we could hear the motor grind and stop; grind & stop.
I'm certainly thankful that the little 21 horse diesel's fuel consumption was so minimal since we actually had to motor for many hours just to GET north! It used less than 1/3 gallon per hour at 2200 RPMs. We added our first 6 gallon jug to the tank on the 10th day, a second 6 gallon jug on the 13th day, a third jug on the 15th day, and we still hadn't reached a point far enough north to consider turning east big time. (We had 4 jugs plus 20 gallons in the tank when we started.)
Also on the 10th day, the secondary water tank (20 gallon) ran dry. No way had we used 20 gallons! We decided that this tank went the same way as the first one... plastic, old, poorly maintained, AND no visible vent on the hull. The vent was most likely on the top of the tank and had poured most of the contents into the bilge once we had gone onto the other tack. The automatic bilge pump had managed to pick up most of it on that tack and we just hadn't realized it was happening. Well, here is where the jury jugs came into play. Water rationing! One liter per day per person plus cooking needs for all that dehydrated food! And, NO MORE COFFEE since it dehydrates. In a way I guess it was just as well. Ya see, all that coffee the owner had said was on board (3 lbs)... 2 and 1/2 lbs of it was really decaf! We could have killed (grrrrrr). At least, I'd learned THIS lesson previously and had brought a small jar of Instant Coffee.
I took the first of the 2 water jugs and secured it between the companionway ladder and the engine cover, re-lead the hoses from under the sink so that we could continue to use the galley pump and filter (already a year beyond it's recommended replacement date). There were a few 1 liter bottles of spring water and after we drained them, we refilled one for each of us, labeled the top "S" and ":-)" and kept a record each time we refilled. A big rain a few days later enabled us to collect a few more liters and it reeeeeeeally tasted good!
Our biggest disappointment came on day 14. After baking our 2nd loaf of bread (and doing so conservatively by using the pressure cooker) I decided to see how we were doing on cooking gas. GASP! We were down to 400 lbs and we had begun this voyage with nearly 1000 lbs!!! This was awful. What I hadn't learned from the owner (because he didn't know himself) was that CNG is notorious for lasting only a few weeks at best and that it burns cooler than propane thus requiring longer cooking time. This I learned via radio from my Mexico cruising friend and another participant in the Transpac, Ken aboard "Harrier ". He was also making the return passage. He had suggested we burn alcohol in a can filled with salt or sand, yes, I've done that before but alas, there was no alcohol on board either! Jack & I decided to hard boil the 16 eggs we had left, pre-prepare 3 of the freeze dried meals with the water used to boil the eggs and severely ration whatever was left so that we could have ONE CUP OF COFFEE when we reached the Farallons. Jack assumed the rationing responsibilities and that was fine with me. We had three full meals of deviled eggs & chopped pickles on crackers, but mostly, in the end, we had warm chili and soggy noodles.
"Harrier " Ken was also checking into an SSB net on 12 Alpha. We couldn't do that because of the owner's choice of radio antennas and it's mounting location. It was a manually changed antenna that required un-plugging and re-plugging a wire into the appropriate hole. I would have to suit back up and change the antenna with each band change - that is if I could have reached it. On a starboard tack it stretched precariously out beyond the rail about 6 feet in the air. Not me! And not Jack either! But Ken told me that all of the boats on that net were terribly concerned about our safety. I assured him that although uncomfortable, we were enduring. We joked about the fact that by the time we ran out of water, we'd also be out of food & fuel. Once it became possible for me to communicate with my fiancee back in California on 12A, I tilted the antenna inward and Jack did make the necessary changes for me a couple of times, but he constantly got soaked from big swells rolling over the stern quarter and we just couldn't continue that process. What a completely useless antenna... dangerous to adjust and salt water got into all the connection holes making the signal degrade substantially.
We began hydrating what we could in a zip lock bag on top of the tiny trickle-charge solar panel. We called this our N.A.S.A. Bag or "No Amenities Survival Assistance" Bag. Each "cooking" took about 4 hours if it was going to work and forever if it wasn't. We found that there were several complete rice meals that we were unable to eat at all. Among the other foods that were also uneatable were: 7 boxes of bread mix, 2 boxes of pizza mix, 1 apple cobbler mix, and bits & pieces of pasta, etc. This severely reduced our food supply. Those last 10 days we were limited to small portions of cold or lukewarm food that wasn't necessarily all the way cooked. If it hadn't been for the several cans of chili, well...
I know that Jack lost pounds. Me? I only weighed 106 lbs when we started and that little pair of white Levi's had always been tight... I could have tucked my sweatshirt into the waistband with room to spare when I got back! I'd tried to make sure that Jack got plenty to eat of the "main dishes" (always a second helping) and he had encouraged me to eat all the remaining granola bars & pop tarts. I did, along with a few rather strange combinations - raisins & peanut butter, hot chocolate mix & peanut butter, hot chocolate mix and mayonnaise (really, I did).
We had various & sundry other equipment failures... pretty much normal on a delivery. Broken shackles, chafed lines, the electric auto pilot failed and Jack revived it once before he declared it dead for good a couple of days later, a broken belt on the alternator, the swing-out arm holding the radar & GPS lost it's grip, the tack of the jib came loose from the furler, one of the spinnaker poles fell out of it's holder, the boom brake was chafing the main sheet so we removed it and rigger preventers, twice more we re-tied the line at the bottom of the vane steering, etc.
Things were depressing. It was around this time that I pulled that half dollar bill. I just handled it and looked it it for a while. I remember saying (more or less to myself) "I have to get home, I own Ken a dollar". Then I went to sleep. I slept hard. When I woke up I could visualize myself laying on the yacht club dock and smiling. I felt better.
If only, I had checked each and every inch of the boat personally instead of relying on someone else... if only, there had been a spare cooking source... if only the owner had sailed to weather enough to know his boat... if only we could have slept in the v-berth... if only there had been plenty of food we could eat... if only the head worked... if only we could have boated fish... if only the owner had a *clew... If Only! What a great name for this boat! That's what I'll call it from now on, the "If Only" and the "Single-Minded Transpac" whose Motto must be: "Just get the boat to Hawaii and someone else will bring it back"!!! Redundancy? This boat didn't even have "onedundancy"!
IF ONLY either Jack or I had listened to that little voice inside. We had (as we discussed later) both experienced the "light of recognition & understanding" in the owner's eyes when we brought up a topic he hadn't considered. "Oil? Oh, I should buy some of that." "I bought some duct tape after what you said." His eyes got reeeeally big when we spoke about the jack lines being tight enough to keep you OUT of the water. We had oil filters but no oil to go with them. Had he really not even considered these things? Apparently!
During one of out cocktail hours, I told Jack about laying on the dock when we pulled in to the Bay. He grabbed my arm and said he saw himself doing the same thing... this was a sign we were definately going to make it!!!
The 18th day brought the explosion of the turning block for the vane steering control lines. I had been sitting in the companionway listening to a Mystery Theater CD with the headphones (the portable CD player was the best piece of equipment on board) when a loud bang came from behind me. I scrambled to the aft cockpit and took the wheel before we got crossways to the swell and surveyed the problem. I woke Jack early to go on a scavenger hunt for 2 blocks we could "fly" from the cockpit cleat as a temporary fix. This particular kluge worked better than the original turning block so we kept it in use. In fact, the reason the original block had blown up was because it wasn't a fairlead. The line that ran over the top of the wheel attachment constantly pulled up on the block. This turning block was one of many *distorted* pieces of hardware that we saved for the owner.
Each evening at 0330 Zulu we listened for out turn to check in to the radio net, give our position, and relate the days new failures. I'm sure we were the evening's entertainment!
The most serious problem became apparent about 5:30 A M on the 19th day. Water was beginning to show inside the cabin again (there weren't any more water tanks to fail). The automatic bilge pump switch was on but nothing was happening. Jack switched it to the manual position and heard the pump run, but no water was coming out of the discharge. The manual pump was only sucking air and the water was rising. I was sleeping and he generously allowed me to continue while he rigged a temp fix. He took the nozzle from the water jug, duct taped it to the Thirsty Mate hose, and jammed it into the head basin. It just reached from the deepest part of the bilge access. I did wake early however... I think it was the water sloshing over me in the bunk! Thirsty Mate to the rescue! It did a fine job. So well, in fact, that it sustained us thru the next 5 days of pumping the bilge every 30 minutes. The Beckson folks, who make the Thirsty Mate, get our sincere thanks! Yet another temporary fix worthy of continued use.
As best we could tell, a hull/deck joint up forward had opened up enough to allow substantial water into the boat when we were on a port tack. A waterfall poured onto the cabin soul from under the door of the hanging locker. Where the bilge pump pick up had been; it was no more (apparently coming lose) and could not be seen or reached. We could reach the hose at several points, but could not feel the pump either. There was no spare electric bilge pump, but there was a small electric water puppy. It had gotten wet along with everything else though and there wasn't much spare hose to kluge something together. There was no rebuild kit for the manual pump and we never found a spare manual pump that we were told was on board. Turned out the bilge system also operated the cold box drain and had started sucking air, even so it wouldn't have picked up the water running around the salon sole. Did I mention that I hated the designer of this boat???
With this new development, the only remaining dry sleeping area was where the food was kept in the quarter berth. Oh well, there wasn't much left anyway so we protected it as best we could and moved it to the starboard berth behind the lee cloth. The quarter berth was warm & dry and relatively comfortable except that the electrical panels were in direct conflict with knees and feet. A wrong move could turn the battery switch to "off" while the engine was running... not good! Other not so crucial switches were also unprotected. Duct tape to the rescue again. Gee, I'm glad I mentioned the value of duct tape to the owner in Kauai...
The last 72 hours of our journey consisted of 45+ knots of wind (Jack saw 49K of true wind) and 14' seas. Jack confessed that he just got naked and performed his daily ritual with "the bucket" in the cockpit. As for me, I wimped out and brought the bucket down into the cabin wedging it in-between the ladder and the nav station so I could stay dry. Jack was always a gentleman even to the point of dumping my bucket sometimes (as long as he was outside anyway)! The conditions didn't deter a whale in the least. He played around us for at least an hour leaving aqua colored patches of water to mark his last location.
I found that I could most easily pump the bilge by staying attached to my tether at the companionway. I could just hang on the end of the outstretched tether, sit bracing my forehead against the bulkhead, plant both feet against the opposite settee, hold the shaft of the pump down with my left hand and pump like crazy with my right hand. Only twice was I *launched* from my seat and thrown against the opposite side of the boat. Once slamming my hip against the edge of the settee and once jamming my finger into the grab rail. Pretty minor stuff.
As my watch began that last morning, Jack was complaining about not being able to trim the boat out. He'd checked the tension on the vane steering lines, adjusted the sails over & over again, it just wouldn't hold. I crawled out of the bunk saying "It's this (pointing at myself) 100 lbs sleeping in the quarter-berth". "Nah", he said. With that, I moved to the high side and the boat straightened right out. "Why didn't you tell me" he said rather indignantly. "I DID tell you. I've been complaining about your 160 lbs all along". He volunteered to not sleep there, but where? After a few moments, he took a tether and secured himself to the high side settee by his arm pits. I couldn't help laughing. He was not amused! Although he got very little sleep there, he did remain in that spot all the time I was on watch.
A strange thing happened sometime that last day. All the previous days blended together into but a few. Suddenly, somehow the entire passage had compressed & condensed into a very loooong day sail. I can't really explain it, but we both felt it. Maybe you'll only understand if it's happened to you, too.
Neptune and, in fact, all the Gods Of Wind & Sea were good to us even though some of the other forces tried to do us in!!!
Land Ho! There were the Farallons right where they should be on that last morning and you know what that meant... COFFEE! It was very strong and very, very good!
The winds began to die and the motor came on. We had expended very little fuel once actually turning East so we headed straight for The Gate "motor sailing". Sunset found us just inside the bay. One last battle with the boat as the jury rig of the traveler car blew and things flogged as I dropped a winch handle overboard, ooooops. We pulled into the guest dock at BYC at 9:30 and lay on the dock as each of us (separately) had envisioned during one of our darkest days.
My Love, Ken, met us at the dock with cheeseburgers, lasagna, salad, milkshakes, sushi, juices (and dry tennis shoes for me)! We took over the yacht club and told our stories to a small welcoming committee for several hours finally taking long hot showers. Jack planned to stay aboard the boat, but Ken drove me home to our own v-berth, ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Ken's waiting ordeal was almost as distressing as mine because he faithfully listened in to the Pacific Seafarer's Net and received phone patches from me along the way with all of the gory details. In our own website "Log Book" Ken has written the story of the delivery from his perspective. The support group that formed around him... the radio learning experience... the sleepless nights. Through this though, he did manage to connected with a fellow in New Zealand, Mike www.pangolin.co.nz whose computer program was capable of displaying positions of all the boats out there underway in the Pacific. Ken took on the chore of hacking the program so it would automatically display information such as boat name, course, and location on the chart. Ken did it! Now anyone interested can visit the site anytime and see who checked into the pacific Seafarers Net last night and where their friends are. YOTREPS
Ken & I drove back up to BYC the next morning to meet with the owner and complete the journey up to his marina just a few miles away. Jack was just completing his 4th cup of Yacht Club coffee when we arrived. He & I took Ken down to the boat and UNLOADED! We pointed out every failure, shortcoming, and breakage in great detail not holding back any of our feelings. By the time the owner arrived a couple of hours later, we were able to calmly and rationally discuss all the issues without once trying to ring his neck! And just how much cooking gas was left in the line after Jack's skillful rationing and that one & only cup of coffee??? 15 seconds!!! 15 SECONDS!!! We lit it as the owner watched.
My conclusion: I'm angry with all concerned, especially myself. I will never allow a boat to do that to me again and I hope in some small way I can benefit others with my story.
Since I returned, I've had an opportunity to read the SSS Rules & Conditions in detail. This boat should have totally failed the Inspection process! See requirement # 13.1 "The object of the inspection is to verify that the Required Equipment detailed in Rules 8 & 9 had been properly installed, and that any part of the yacht's design, construction, or equipment does not negatively impact the seaworthiness of the yacht to participate in the race." What I said above still stands. Wouldn't you consider the following items to have an impact on seaworthiness?
In my opinion, all of these items negatively impact the seaworthiness of the vessel and the safety of the crew. I just can't believe this vessel could possibly pass any inspection - let alone one conducted by an organization with such a fine reputation as the SSS. Perhaps there is too much stress placed on the personal challenge...
| Copyright © 1998 | Suzy O'Keefe |